the agency. His guilt increased. Knowing the threat she posed to his equilibrium,
he wasn’t sure if it was wise for him to ask her to come back to the agency. Unconsciously,
his glance strayed to her bed.
GianMarco wondered what it would be like to take her to bed, stripping away each article
of clothing, piece by delicious piece, taking his fill of her bountiful chocolate
body. He had no preferences about the color of his women. He was far too old to have
such petty hang-ups like race. Besides, if the truth were known, it was a huge turn-on
to make love to a beautiful woman with dark-hued skin like Maggie Williams.
Just the thought of running his pale hands over her ample dark body made his cock
rise. He imagined rubbing his dick between her large breasts and then burying his
face in her cunt to drink her nectar and perhaps sample some of the sweetness of her
blood. GianMarco shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the onslaught of carnal
images invading it. He had already been dangerously close to doing something he would
regret before the phone rang. GianMarco’s mind told him to leave but his feet wouldn’t
cooperate.
“Eugene, stop it! I told you I would sign those damn papers when I have some time.
You’re just going to have to wait.” Maggie yelled into the phone, regaining GianMarco’s
attention to her conversation.
“No, you have no right to do that, and if you come over here I will not let you in!”
She tapped her foot against the floor with an angry beat. GianMarco frowned. Who the
hell was Eugene?
“The landlord won’t allow you in either. Your name is not on the lease. You’re the
one who wanted this divorce. You can’t just call yourself my husband to gain access
to my apartment,” Maggie hissed into the phone. GianMarco resisted the urge to hear
what was being said on the other end of the line, but whatever it was, it caused Maggie’s
eyes to narrow.
“Eugene, this conversation is over. I’ll speak with you when you’re more civil.” She
hung up the phone with a decisive click, then rested her head in her hands. Her shoulders
began to shudder gently. It seemed he wasn’t the only one to make her cry today.
Unable to help himself, GianMarco walked over to her and lightly touched her back.
She jumped as if she had forgotten he was still there. To GianMarco’s surprise, when
he looked at her face, there was no trace of tears.
“Is everything okay?”
Instead of crying she was in the throes of laughter. “I’m fine. I’m just being silly.”
“What’s so funny? You seemed pretty upset only a short while ago.”
“It was my husband giving me a hard time as usual. I figured I could either laugh
or cry about the situation. Frankly, I’m tired of crying.”
“You’re still married?” GianMarco had heard the word divorce and thought she was dealing
with an ex. He was astonished and bothered that her announcement should affect him
this way.
Maggie twirled a lock of hair around her finger, biting her lower lip. “Not for long.”
She shrugged, projecting an air of indifference, but GianMarco wasn’t fooled.
“What happened?” GianMarco dragged his eyes away from the tempting sight of Maggie
nibbling her lip.
The sadness he’d noticed before re-entered her eyes. “It’s an old story. Boy meets
girl. Girl gets knocked up. They marry. Two kids and twenty-three years later, boy
gets tired of girl and trades her in for a sleeker, younger model.”
“We’ve only met today but I noticed there was some pain in your eyes, perhaps some
heartache. It makes sense now.”
“Does it really show?”
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, Maggie, but I get the distinct impression you’re
better off without him.”
“My best friend keeps telling me that, too. I suppose she’s right.”
“Your best friend sounds like a wise woman. But you don’t sound so certain of her
claim.”
“Deep down I realize
he wasn’t sure if it was wise for him to ask her to come back to the agency. Unconsciously,
his glance strayed to her bed.
GianMarco wondered what it would be like to take her to bed, stripping away each article
of clothing, piece by delicious piece, taking his fill of her bountiful chocolate
body. He had no preferences about the color of his women. He was far too old to have
such petty hang-ups like race. Besides, if the truth were known, it was a huge turn-on
to make love to a beautiful woman with dark-hued skin like Maggie Williams.
Just the thought of running his pale hands over her ample dark body made his cock
rise. He imagined rubbing his dick between her large breasts and then burying his
face in her cunt to drink her nectar and perhaps sample some of the sweetness of her
blood. GianMarco shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the onslaught of carnal
images invading it. He had already been dangerously close to doing something he would
regret before the phone rang. GianMarco’s mind told him to leave but his feet wouldn’t
cooperate.
“Eugene, stop it! I told you I would sign those damn papers when I have some time.
You’re just going to have to wait.” Maggie yelled into the phone, regaining GianMarco’s
attention to her conversation.
“No, you have no right to do that, and if you come over here I will not let you in!”
She tapped her foot against the floor with an angry beat. GianMarco frowned. Who the
hell was Eugene?
“The landlord won’t allow you in either. Your name is not on the lease. You’re the
one who wanted this divorce. You can’t just call yourself my husband to gain access
to my apartment,” Maggie hissed into the phone. GianMarco resisted the urge to hear
what was being said on the other end of the line, but whatever it was, it caused Maggie’s
eyes to narrow.
“Eugene, this conversation is over. I’ll speak with you when you’re more civil.” She
hung up the phone with a decisive click, then rested her head in her hands. Her shoulders
began to shudder gently. It seemed he wasn’t the only one to make her cry today.
Unable to help himself, GianMarco walked over to her and lightly touched her back.
She jumped as if she had forgotten he was still there. To GianMarco’s surprise, when
he looked at her face, there was no trace of tears.
“Is everything okay?”
Instead of crying she was in the throes of laughter. “I’m fine. I’m just being silly.”
“What’s so funny? You seemed pretty upset only a short while ago.”
“It was my husband giving me a hard time as usual. I figured I could either laugh
or cry about the situation. Frankly, I’m tired of crying.”
“You’re still married?” GianMarco had heard the word divorce and thought she was dealing
with an ex. He was astonished and bothered that her announcement should affect him
this way.
Maggie twirled a lock of hair around her finger, biting her lower lip. “Not for long.”
She shrugged, projecting an air of indifference, but GianMarco wasn’t fooled.
“What happened?” GianMarco dragged his eyes away from the tempting sight of Maggie
nibbling her lip.
The sadness he’d noticed before re-entered her eyes. “It’s an old story. Boy meets
girl. Girl gets knocked up. They marry. Two kids and twenty-three years later, boy
gets tired of girl and trades her in for a sleeker, younger model.”
“We’ve only met today but I noticed there was some pain in your eyes, perhaps some
heartache. It makes sense now.”
“Does it really show?”
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, Maggie, but I get the distinct impression you’re
better off without him.”
“My best friend keeps telling me that, too. I suppose she’s right.”
“Your best friend sounds like a wise woman. But you don’t sound so certain of her
claim.”
“Deep down I realize
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