Read Online OBSESSED WITH TAYLOR JAMES by Toye Lawson Brown - Free Book Online

being too busy at work, but
she would not lie to herself; she was too busy playing with Mario Infante after
work and on the weekends.  The man had managed to sweep her off her feet with
his romantic ways.  They were taking it slow with the intimacy, but had come
close only to stop and regroup.
    Without the sex, which was getting harder to avoid, they
enjoyed late night dinners, dancing, long walks in the park and shopping. 
Mario was a tolerant when their dates ended with them cuddling and kissing on
her sofa.  He didn’t press her for sex when she pulled away when it got hot and
heavy.  He was understanding, and said it would happen when the time was right.
    A mile into her run, she’d made up her mind the time had
come.  The when and the where it would happen was the barrier standing in the
way.  Dreaming about him night after night and playing with him during day
hours had her wondering what lay beneath the expensive suits and the silver
tongue.  He had the ability to tell what he could do; she finally wanted him to
show what he could do.
    Taylor finally made it to her street, as the song playing on
the iPod was the last on the playlist.  She had different playlists she used
for exercising depending on her mood.  A short playlist lasted for an hour run
and the longer playlists she used when she wanted to run for more than an hour.
Today she used the short playlist until she regained her endurance for longer
runs.
    She lived in a quiet bedroom community on Cleveland’s
westside.  There were hardly any children among the mostly working class
residents who occupied modest homes with well-kept yards, but plenty of dogs.  
She did not have a dog to walk or run with, and therefore kept her running to
daylight hours.  Just because her street was quiet, it did not mean freaks did
not lurk about.
    A few houses from her brick colonial, she noticed Dillon
sitting on the stairs of the front porch.  He was reading a book and drinking
what looked to be coffee from a fast food restaurant.
    She picked up her pace to get to her house.  Wiping sweat
from her forehead, she pulled the buds of the iPod from her ears. “Hey, what
are you doing here so early in the morning?”
    Dillon looked at her.  “Wow, you do still live here.  I was
starting to wonder if you’d moved and didn’t tell me.”
    “It’s too early in the morning to be sarcastic,” she said
squeezing by him to walk up the steps.
    He gathered up his belongings and followed her into the
house. He loved Taylor’s style of decorating.  It reflected her inner beauty
and soul.  The African artwork and statutes strategically placed around her
modest home accented the modern furniture, and polished hardwood floors. The
only carpeting was on the steps leading upstairs. 
    Taylor was proud of her rich African-American history.  She
had photographs of family sitting on the mantle and inside curio cabinets.  She
also had very rare photographs of her family dating back as far as the 1800s. 
Her mother had given her pieces of furniture from her great-great grandparents
that she kept protected from the elements in a climate-controlled warehouse
until she had a house big enough to display everything.
    The one piece she loved and used was the hand-carved
mahogany queen-sized bed her great-great grandfather made for his ill wife so
she would have a peaceful place to sleep at night.  Taylor had it restored and
searched the internet for a dresser and other bedroom furniture of that era
that came close to what he’d made to complete her bedroom.  He’d been inside
her home plenty of times, and knew the layout like the back of his hand.
    Dillon followed Taylor into the kitchen. “So, what have you
been up to lately?  I hardly see you anymore.”
    She held up one finger while she swallowed down the glass of
cold water. Putting the glass in the sink, she said, “I see you every day at
work.”
    “Really at work,” he said ditching the empty coffee