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Authors: Latrivia S. Nelson
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pulling away. She was amazed at the hard, thickness below. An ache began to fill her lower belly right before the sensation landed squarely between her steaming thighs.
“We had better get to washing my hair,” she said, finally as she realized that for the first time in a long time, she was wet…unforgivably soaking wet.
Flush red, he looked up at her and calmed himself. His hot hands ran over his stubbly beard. “Sorry,” he whispered with a naughty grin. He looked into her eyes and almost suggested what they both were clearly thinking but was afraid of the possibility of her turning him down and worse shutting down.
Rapture sat on the floor looking at both of them with his silver eyes flickering in the dim room. The tilt of his little head suggested that he too was confused or maybe intrigued by their odd pairing.
Hunter looked over at the cat and raised his brow. “I bet you weren’t ready for that one,” he said to Rapture as Stacey got up and went to the bathroom.
“Do you wash your hair naked?” he yelled as he heard the water running. He could hear her laughing. “Just a thought,” he said under his breath as he sat up.
Slowly walking through the apartment with the cat trailing at his feet, he entered into her bedroom and looked around. It was warm and welcoming like the rest of her home.
The walls were painted in a deep purple with one wall of exposed brick. Two large windows with heavy plum, expensive curtains faced the bay. One very large elegant bed sat in the middle of the room, perfectly made, with a plum colored comforter and large pillows. Hunter stared at it for a minute intrigued. It was the only thing in her house that didn’t fit. It was a great deal more ornate and luxurious than anything else she owned.
On each side of the bed were wooden nightstands and clear acrylic lamps with beige shades. By each lamp was a stack of books and bouquet of roses. The walls were adorned more black framed art and in the corner was an antique wooden rocking chair with a beige pillow and beige throw cover.
A thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shut it out. There was no need to dwell on things that he could not have.
What he did notice was that in the perfect little room she did not have a television. He knew instantly that because of her inability to sleep, her shrink, like his , had suggested no TV. However, unlike him, she’d actually listened. He, on the other hand, had purchased a 60-inch plasma and had it installed on the wall right across from his bed.
On the wall across from her bed was an antique large dresser, embroidered with intricate designs. On top of it was a picture of who must have been her father and her as a child sitting on a stoop outside of a brownstone. The other picture, framed in silver, was a picture of Drew.
He was a handsome, clean shaven black man with eyes the color of hazelnut and prominent ethnic features. His smile suggested that he was happy, but who wouldn’t be with Stacey . She had told Hunter once that Drew was an astrophysicist. Her story humbled him. All this time, he had thought he ran in intelligent circles, while this guy was studying Mars.
Hearing the water running in the bathroom, he turned and looked at the room again in one final assessment. Stacey was neat, simple and classy. He liked that about her. She was worth millions but her conservative spending and her less than gaudy personality only required comfort. Any man who lived in this society could appreciate a woman who had pulled herself up by her own bootstraps and still was grounded, rooted was a better word for Stacey .
Hunter had considered dating a few times before, but everyone that his family and friends had tried to hook him up with was so centered on appearance and prestige until it made him sick. While he was a doctor with a thriving practice, he just wanted to be a guy with a comfortable life. This was why he had settled on a
“We had better get to washing my hair,” she said, finally as she realized that for the first time in a long time, she was wet…unforgivably soaking wet.
Flush red, he looked up at her and calmed himself. His hot hands ran over his stubbly beard. “Sorry,” he whispered with a naughty grin. He looked into her eyes and almost suggested what they both were clearly thinking but was afraid of the possibility of her turning him down and worse shutting down.
Rapture sat on the floor looking at both of them with his silver eyes flickering in the dim room. The tilt of his little head suggested that he too was confused or maybe intrigued by their odd pairing.
Hunter looked over at the cat and raised his brow. “I bet you weren’t ready for that one,” he said to Rapture as Stacey got up and went to the bathroom.
“Do you wash your hair naked?” he yelled as he heard the water running. He could hear her laughing. “Just a thought,” he said under his breath as he sat up.
Slowly walking through the apartment with the cat trailing at his feet, he entered into her bedroom and looked around. It was warm and welcoming like the rest of her home.
The walls were painted in a deep purple with one wall of exposed brick. Two large windows with heavy plum, expensive curtains faced the bay. One very large elegant bed sat in the middle of the room, perfectly made, with a plum colored comforter and large pillows. Hunter stared at it for a minute intrigued. It was the only thing in her house that didn’t fit. It was a great deal more ornate and luxurious than anything else she owned.
On each side of the bed were wooden nightstands and clear acrylic lamps with beige shades. By each lamp was a stack of books and bouquet of roses. The walls were adorned more black framed art and in the corner was an antique wooden rocking chair with a beige pillow and beige throw cover.
A thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shut it out. There was no need to dwell on things that he could not have.
What he did notice was that in the perfect little room she did not have a television. He knew instantly that because of her inability to sleep, her shrink, like his , had suggested no TV. However, unlike him, she’d actually listened. He, on the other hand, had purchased a 60-inch plasma and had it installed on the wall right across from his bed.
On the wall across from her bed was an antique large dresser, embroidered with intricate designs. On top of it was a picture of who must have been her father and her as a child sitting on a stoop outside of a brownstone. The other picture, framed in silver, was a picture of Drew.
He was a handsome, clean shaven black man with eyes the color of hazelnut and prominent ethnic features. His smile suggested that he was happy, but who wouldn’t be with Stacey . She had told Hunter once that Drew was an astrophysicist. Her story humbled him. All this time, he had thought he ran in intelligent circles, while this guy was studying Mars.
Hearing the water running in the bathroom, he turned and looked at the room again in one final assessment. Stacey was neat, simple and classy. He liked that about her. She was worth millions but her conservative spending and her less than gaudy personality only required comfort. Any man who lived in this society could appreciate a woman who had pulled herself up by her own bootstraps and still was grounded, rooted was a better word for Stacey .
Hunter had considered dating a few times before, but everyone that his family and friends had tried to hook him up with was so centered on appearance and prestige until it made him sick. While he was a doctor with a thriving practice, he just wanted to be a guy with a comfortable life. This was why he had settled on a
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