A Choice Between Two

Cover art by Tuesday Dube © July 2007

Amira Press

Baltimore, MD 21216

www.amirapress.com

No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means,

including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from
Amira Press.

Prologue

Lisa stood at the window, clutching a crumpled sheet of paper in one hand; the other clenched and
tucked in her robe pocket. Her forehead pressed against the glass; she let tears course down her

cheeks. Now she had no choice. It was all set. The ache in her throat, the unsettled feeling in her
stomach, all culminated because of her decision.

She lifted the sheet before her blurred vision and read again the words, ―We’re anticipating your arrival
on May 10

.‖ So soon. The tenth was only days away. She had to get packed, return the key to her

landlord, take her little shitzu to her friend Kate‘s house and…tell Trace. Her heart nearly stopped at
the thought. The tears, which had begun to dry with her renewed resolve, started up again. Oh God,

how can I do this?

Strong arms encircled her waist and dipped low so that his fingertips brushed across her panties, and

Trace pulled her back against his hard body. ―Hey, baby. What are you doing?‖

―Nothing.‖ She wasn‘t quite ready to explain. This time was different.

His laugh was more of a low rumble in his throat, ―Then bring your sexy body back to bed, woman.

I haven‘t had enough yet.‖

She brushed the tears from her cheeks and twisted in his arms, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.

―Trace, do you think—‖

―As little as possible.‖

She swatted at his shoulder, having to lift a hand up an inch above her eyebrow to reach it. ―I‘m

serious. Do you think about us, ever? Do you wonder what it would be like if we settled down
together?‖

His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped over to the dresser. That was always his reaction.
What had made her think Trace would be ready today anymore than he was five years ago? He was

the same jet-setter now as then.

She eyed him speculatively. With those Siberian grey eyes, the too-long, sable hair and that hard
body physique, she had never been able to resist him. Not his mouth, or his body. She literally

craved him. Even now, as she stood watching, she wanted to feel his hands molding her breasts,
teasing the tips with his tongue.

She swallowed and dismissed the thought. She was leaving and she better get used to not having the
man she had loved from the day she‘d fallen into his lap at Myrtle Beach. The instant sexual

attraction was unmistakable, and Trace had been satisfying her every physical need ever since—and
she his.

―Trace, I‘m leaving,‖ she announced. ―I‘m leaving for good, moving to New York.‖

He didn‘t answer at first and then his gaze swung toward her. She didn‘t miss the instant of pain in
their depths before he masked it. ―We‘re going there again, Lisa? Come on, haven‘t you had enough

of the dramatics?‖

He crossed the room in two steps, then stood before her with heavy hands on her shoulders.

―I…I,‖ she muttered incoherently. She swallowed and tried again. ―This is not for show or to tease
you into giving me what I want, Trace. I‘m really going. This letter confirms it.‖

He snatched away the offensive missive and tossed it to the floor. With a roughness he always

demonstrated when miffed at her, he grasped her around the waist and tugged her panties down.
Before she could protest, he shoved one long finger inside her already moist center. ―You‘re telling

me you‘ll walk away from this?‖ he demanded.

Lisa threw back her head and her intimate muscles clamped down on his finger, as he slid it in and
out. Sticky wetness was already pooling around his strokes and dampening her upper thighs. She

whimpered, knowing she should make him stop, but Trace‘s slightest touch was so good.

―Are you sure about this?‖ he whispered, before imprisoning her nipple between his teeth and
tugging at it. ―And this?‖

He pulled his finger free and captured her chin, forcing her to watch as he licked her sweet juices
from it. Lust roiled inside her, threatening to erupt. One last time, she thought, hating herself for

giving in to his expertise.

Trace seemed to see her surrender without her uttering a word. Already his hands were relieving her

of her gaping robe, and he kicked away her discarded panties. He lifted her and carried her back to
the bed where they‘d spent most of the night making love.

A jolt of pain stabbed at Lisa‘s heart, knowing she wouldn‘t lay beside him ever again. She wouldn‘t

fly around the world to exotic locations like Paris or Rome or even South America. But that had
never been the appeal. It was the man. The dominating, self-assured--yet totally generous--man.

She grinned secretly as he placed her face down on the bed. Trace always demonstrated his
unquenchable desires and his penchant for dominating her by his choice of sexual positions.

Yet, she wasn‘t mentally griping about it. No man had ever satisfied her like Trace, and she wasn‘t a
virgin when she met him either.

In anticipation, she drew up her knees beneath her and arched her back to give him greater access to

her rear. Anticipation had beads of sweat forming on her lip and at her hairline. When he delayed
too long, she glanced back to catch a look of open lust in his eyes.

She clamped down on a groan of impatience, ―Come on, Trace. Fill me now, baby.‖

He chuckled and toyed with her swollen center, easing in a finger and withdrawing it. His
exploration spread to her rectum, as he shoved in a thumb, rough and punishing. She cried out and

pressed back against it. She loved when he was rough. And when she couldn‘t take his cruel teasing
anymore, she reached back, grabbed his thick, erect shaft to give it a yank.

―Ouch.‖ He slapped away her hand and then grinned. ―You‘ll pay for that.‖

―How?‖ she demanded, wanting him to stop delaying.

―Like this.‖ He grasped either side of her hips and without any preamble, shoved deep inside her.

His stroke was fast and he pounded against her bottom, causing her to scream in ecstasy.

Unable to stop it, she exploded in a too-soon orgasm. ―No. Oh, God, Trace.‖

―Don‘t worry. I‘m not finished punishing you yet.‖

He reared back and slapped at her already sore bottom. She clenched against the sting, yet it did the
trick. Her desires began to climb again. His thrusts had not slowed, though she‘d become more

sensitive. Trace reached beneath her and entered two fingers in her vagina. Coupled with his
pounding thrusts, Lisa squirmed against his hold and screamed the second time.

Trace pulled his fingers free, licked them clean, and then shoved her down flat on the bed. With the
straightening of her legs, his stroke became tighter. She was going to cum again.

He reached a hand beneath her again and pinched at her nipple. She turned her head, seeking his

mouth. They kissed, tongues twirling in aching lust for their perfect lover.

For Lisa, this was it. This was the last time she‘d taste her lover‘s mouth, and she savored it. She let
his tongue fill her mouth as she sucked gently. When she came the second and then the third time,

tears wet her face.

She clung to him, dragging at his arms to wrap around her. With a trembling voice, exhausted from
their bedroom activities, but also from her breaking heart, she whispered in his ear, ―I really am

leaving, Trace. In a few days. I love you, but I can‘t do this anymore.‖

―This?‖ He indicated their stance, him still buried within her.

―This!‖ She insisted. ―This relationship. You don‘t want children. You don‘t want to settle down.
I‘m not getting any younger.‖

He rolled off her and she immediately missed the feel of him inside her.

―You picked a great time to argue about this, Lisa. During our love-making.‖ He sat on the side of
the bed, his back to her.

Lisa rolled over, wincing at her abused rear. ―There is no better time. If we‘re not traveling, we‘re
having sex in some hotel room somewhere or at a resort having sex, on the beach….‖

―And you‘re complaining?‖

He was deliberately being obtuse. She wasn‘t playing the game anymore. She said what she needed
to say. He had time to review the letter she‘d received. It was over and the sooner she got dressed

and said goodbye, the better.

Chapter One

―Are you sure about this, Lisa?‖ James Johnson queried.

She nodded, ―Yes, Daddy. It‘s the only way. You know I‘ve wanted to advance my career for a while

now. Marketing and Advertising in Holt is not something I want to do for the next twenty years.
There are bigger and better opportunities in Manhattan. I‘m just following my dreams.‖

Her father sighed wearily. Lisa knew he‘d miss her. He‘d depended on her presence to remind him
to take his medicine, to cook his dinner, pay the bills and clean the small house she was born and

raised in. But she had to do this, despite the twinge of guilt that reminded her that she was the only
one her father had left, now that her mother had passed.

―Well, I support you in whatever you do. You know that, Lisa.‖

―I know, Daddy.‖ She stood and crossed the tiny, crowded living room to perch on her father‘s
knee. She brushed affectionate fingers against the graying hairs at his temples. How handsome he

was, she thought--half Cherokee, half African American.

His eyes, almost black with worry, fixed on her face. ―What about Trace? I always thought—‖

―I know.‖ She didn‘t want to discuss her ex-boyfriend. The pain in her chest barely allowed normal

breathing as it was. ―That‘s another dream, one that I have finally given up. Trace doesn‘t want to
get married and have a family. He doesn‘t want to settle down. No matter how much he‘s professed

his love for me, his all important love of freedom gets in the way.‖

―Well, my dear, you‘re not like your mother,‖ he said, a thoughtful look on his face.

She winced at the hurtful words. No, she wasn‘t like the gentle beauty her father had fallen in love
with forty years ago. Her mom had commanded the love and respect of her perfect match from the

moment he set eyes on her. Lisa wouldn‘t admit to anyone her inner doubts at not being able to win
Trace like that. Maybe he wasn‘t the one, though her heart beat for him only. She closed her eyes

against the pain, struggling to keep the tears banked.

Her father noticed, ―I‘m sorry, Lisa. That came out wrong. What I meant to say is you‘re the
independent type. You like to have your career. Kids will come along with the right man, I‘m sure,

but right now you want to write the next big Super Bowl commercial, huh?‖

She laughed and stood up again, ―Oh Daddy.‖

He chuckled and joined her by the front door. ―Well, come on. Your bus leaves within the next hour
and a half. Don‘t want to miss it.‖

* * * *

A few hours into the journey north, Lisa sat alone in her row of seats on a Greyhound bus. With
each passing mile, she trembled more, memories washing over her of the wonderful times she‘d

shared with Trace over the last five years.

Who would have thought the man accustomed to breakfasting at Tiffany‘s and jet skiing in Milan,

would be found on a regular American beach at the same time she was? She‘d been so embarrassed
when she, shuffling blindly through a haze of tears at her ruined relationship, fell headlong into his

lap. With his portfolio, it had to have seemed like a setup, but Trace took it well.

His eyes, as smoky as a steam engine—and just as hot—bore into hers, a smile brightening his face
in an instant when he looked down at her. ―Well, what have we here?‖

She wriggled to get up, growing embarrassed as it became obvious what her movements were doing
to his anatomy. She stiffened and wondered how she‘d gain her footing without causing this pervert

to maul her more than just leaving his hand on her rear.

―Kindly remove your hand, sir,‖ she demanded.

His hand shot away as if he‘d been burnt. ―Oh sorry,‖ he laughed. ―But when a woman‘s soft round

bottom is presented to me so freely, I accept the offer.‖

―Arrogant…!‖ She rolled to her side, their legs somehow tangling. A jolt of desire scorched its way

across her belly. She gasped and met his inviting gaze.

The straight white teeth, the chiseled physique, had her heart pumping harder and her words died in
her throat.

―You know what I‘m going to do?‖ he breathed against her ear, his lip barely grazing the delicate
skin.

―What?‖

A rumble of laughter, ―I‘m going to take you back to my room, rip off that cute yellow sundress
you‘re wearing and feast between those hot thighs.‖

She gasped, ―I don‘t even know you.‖

He laughed again, throwing back his head, causing his black wavy hair to swing. ―Oh my beauty, I‘m

going to know you over and over again.‖

Lisa squirmed at the memory, feeling moisture collect in her panties as she struggled to force her
mind away from thoughts of that day. Trace had always kept his word—about everything—but

especially about sex. He did take her to his room and he‘d completely torn off her new dress. Even
as the ripping sound echoed through the room, she didn‘t care. His long wet tongue had found its

mark between her legs. Lisa had stumbled onto the perfect lover.

* * * *

After a fitful sleep, hunched in her chair, the bus finally pulled into the New York station. Lisa

stretched out her cramped muscles and prepared to disembark.

Her first impression of the world famous city was that it was enormous and crowded with people,

even in the late afternoon. Somehow the sea of faces helped her not to feel so lonely, having just left
her home and those who loved her.

She lugged her bag behind her on unsteady wheels, while easing between the bodies littering the
sidewalks to the curb. A groggy smile lighted her face as she came upon a line of cabs waiting
for passengers. This transition was going to be easier than she thought.

Soon she was traveling along Main Street, taking in the sights—the boutiques with sassy women‘s

clothing, bakeries, and drug stores. The mixture of scents from all these places permeated the
already humid and close air of the city. At her destination, the driver let her out and Lisa couldn‘t

have been more thrilled at the quiet neighborhood with trees lining the sidewalks and flower boxes
hanging from windowsills.

The houses were all attached, something she‘d have to get used to, but the layout was very pleasing.

She stepped up to the front door and rung the bell for the second floor apartment. Her new
landlord was supposed to meet her with the key. According to her watch, she was right on time.

Score one for Greyhound.

A head popped out of the upstairs window, ―Yeah?‖

She smiled up at the twenty-something man with an unshaved jaw and hair a tangled mass. ―Hi, it‘s
Lisa Johnson.‖

He tucked a hand under his chin and an elbow on the ledge, and said with a boyish grin, ―Is that

right? Yummy, Lisa.‖

She knew without checking that at his vantage point, he could look straight down her blouse to the

swell of her breasts. She could only hope his eyesight wasn‘t that good. As she lifted a hand to cover
the deep V of her neckline, she noted the look of keen interest sparkling in those clear eyes. Twenty-

twenty or better, she didn‘t doubt.

She sighed, ―Are you going to let me in?‖

―I can do that.‖

His head disappeared and seconds later, the door opened. She had no choice but to follow him as he
headed back up to the second floor without a greeting.

It had been a long trip and she‘d hoped he‘d just hand over the key and leave. But when she reached
the compact apartment she‘d arranged for over the phone and through the mail, her heart sank. A

distinct smell of burnt popcorn permeated the air, dirty clothes were strewn about the sparse
furniture and ‗Dave‘ was barefoot in the midst of it all. He didn‘t look like he was ready to budge

any time soon.

―Um,‖ she cleared her throat. ―I think maybe you should give me the key now. It‘s been a long trip
up here and I‘m really tired. Thanks for meeting me.‖

―What?‖

It looked like he scratched at his balls and then smelled his fingers. Lisa averted her gaze. Just great, I
have to take the key from some guy who could have been digging in worse places before I came.

―Look, Dave,‖ she began.

―Name‘s not Dave, pretty lady,‖ he grinned suggestively. ―But if you really like that name, I wouldn‘t
care if you screamed it while we have some action in my bedroom.‖

She took a step back toward the door, ―This is my place and I‘ll thank you to leave if you‘re not the
landlord.‖

―Correction, my place.‖

It was her turn to look stupefied, ―What?‖

He nodded, ―Leased it not two weeks ago from a guy who owns quite a lot of realty around here.

Hard to come by too. Neighborhood like this? It doesn‘t even make it to the market, let alone stay
there.‖

Terror crept into her belly. Could this be some sick joke? She‘d paid her deposit. She had the proof

of the cancelled check in her purse. There must be some mistake.

A few calming breaths didn‘t help to slow her racing heart. ―Do you have any proof? Because I do. I

have the cancelled check that says I am the tenant here.‖

He laughed and strolled over to a cabinet, where he removed a document she suspected was a lease

contract. ―I‘ll let you look that over, and because you‘re so hot, I‘ll let you use my phone to call the
management agency.‖

―Thanks,‖ she muttered, taking the phone and studying the document.

―Oh but you won‘t get them. See, he owns the agency and the secretary happens to be his mistress.

They just left for a week in Acapulco.‖

Lisa stared, ―And you know all this because?‖

He snatched back the lease, tucked it away and stood staring at her breasts. She figured she wasn‘t

getting an answer. It was too obvious anyway. This person, whoever he was, knew the landlord
personally, probably called in a favor and she was screwed.

She moved toward the door, ―I will be calling the police about my deposit.‖

―Oh don‘t worry about that, beautiful Lisa. Landlord‘s not a crook, a jerk sure, but not a crook. He‘s
probably already sent you a check with some lame excuse. Probably waiting for you in the mail back

home where you came from.‖ He grinned at her reaction. ―The cute little twang is obvious.‖

―Thanks for nothing,‖ she snapped and pivoted on her heel to return to the street below.

It was already getting dark. She glanced up and down the street, wondering which way would lead
her to a main thoroughfare where she could catch another taxi. As she walked south, she went over

in her mind her predicament and her limited funds. It had not occurred to her that this would
happen; she was just trying to live her life as she saw fit.

She brushed at the tears on her cheeks and held her back stiffly as she walked. This was only meant

to make her stronger, she decided. She‘d come through it. Things would get better and the hole in
her heart would heal. It had to.

Chapter Two

After a seemingly endless trek to locate a cheap enough motel to stay in, Lisa had finally found
Motel Red Robin. She checked in, unpacked her bags and then walked down to the corner where

the front desk clerk informed her was a 7-eleven.

She browsed around a bit and then settled on a chocolate milk and a large chocolate chip cookie.

The addictive bean was just what the doctor ordered in a moment like this.

With a smile of contentment, she left the store and headed back to her new, hopefully temporary,

home. Before she‘d gone more than five hundred feet, the sound a car door opening, alerted her to
danger.

A hand grabbed at her elbow and jerked her backward. She cried out, lost her footing and dropped

her bag of treats. She would have rounded on the unknown assailant, but something hard was
shoved painfully in her side and a rough voice demanded, ―Give it up, lady. Hand over the purse.‖

Lisa stiffened, fear creeping up her spine. She‘d known this was a possibility, leaving a town so small
that everyone knew in half an hour that Lamont Jones mugged Carrie Willis in the Ice Cream Palace

parking lot. Here, she knew this man would disappear in the obscurity of a large population.

With obvious surrender, she released her purse to his eager fingers and a split second later, the

stranger was gone. In her confusion, she didn‘t even hear the car start up and pull away.

* * * *

Six-thirty the next morning, she was still curled on her lumpy bed, crying her eyes out. Her father

was unreachable on his fishing trip, and her best friend was vacationing with a new beau. Lisa
realized she was on her own and the only way to make it was to put this situation behind her and

move forward. She was due at her new job in a couple of hours. Nothing was going to make her
give up what she‘d dreamed of for years. This was her big chance.

* * * *

Lisa sank into the soft leather of the chair in her new office at Mundel Advertising and grinned with

delight. The professional, yet stylish office decorated in various shades of umber—from the divan
positioned beneath a genuine Monet on one wall, to the brass trimmings in her private bathroom, to

the wide picturesque window overlooking the cityscape—was beyond anything she could have
imagined.

She twirled her chair in a circle, laughing excitedly. Someone cleared his throat and she swung back

to face the doorway.

A man, maybe a couple inches shorter than Trace, with narrower shoulders, though still very hot

with those Persian blue eyes and friendly smile… She shook her head to clear it. She would not
compare every man to Trace.

―May I help you?‖ she queried.

He calmly shifted from the doorframe and with a hand extended, crossed the plush carpet. ―Justin
Fields, pleased to meet you.‖

She stood to receive his firm grip, a tingle running along her arm in the process. ―Hello, Justin.
Sorry, I was just getting used to the office.‖

He chuckled, ―No, no. Of course. May I?‖

He indicated his wish to join her where she stood. She nodded mutely. Justin moved to stand at her
side and Lisa eyed him again as he turned to take in the view at the window. His double-breasted

pinstripe suit fit his slim build to perfection. He stood with confidence, hands behind his back, but
not arrogant as Trace did. His demeanor was friendly, approachable.

He must have sensed her appraisal, for he turned to face her, the gentle eyes assessing her as she‘d
done him. Something in his gaze told her he liked what he saw. She was pleased to note the pause at

her breasts. They had always been her best feature, those and her rear. Trace‘s mouth had never
been far from her nipples, nor his hands from her curvy backside.

She found herself wondering what it would feel like if Justin were to touch her. Would it set her on

fire, make her beg to be man-handled? She tilted her head to the side, examining the man before her.
It didn‘t seem likely that he‘d ever spanked a woman, or shoved his hard-on inside her rectum until

she screamed from the pain and delight.

Her thoughts had her gasping, lips parted, legs nearly buckling. There was gentle amusement in

Justin‘s eyes. She had the feeling he knew exactly what she was thinking. When he moved to step
closer to her, she backed away, but was cut off by the wide oak desk behind her.

Justin was prepared to follow through. He continued forward, his gaze locked on her hers. Lisa
licked her lips nervously, realizing too late that the movement caught his hungry attention.

When he was less than an inch away, she tried putting him off, ―Listen, I really need to get to work.

I have a lot to learn, a pile of reading….‖

―Indeed.‖

She tried again, ―If you‘ll excuse me.‖

―Of course.‖

He didn‘t move. Did the man expect her to work with him so close? Even if she managed to turn to

face her desk, there was little doubt that her rear would brush his legs in the process. What was she
thinking? That was obviously his intention. She would be angry if she wasn‘t so damned turned on.

Guilt assailed her. It hadn‘t yet been a week since she‘d broken it off with Trace. She was still having
trouble without him, not hearing his voice. Even now with this beautiful man standing before her,

she would give almost anything to have it be Trace.

But that was her heart‘s voice. Her body wanted a stiff erection jammed so hard inside her that she‘d
cry. The craving left her dizzy. Craving. She‘d always thought she had an insatiable craving for Trace,

that no other man could fill it. In fact, she‘d needed a new dose every couple of days, sometimes
more often.

Now, as she stood panting at Justin‘s nearness, she wanted to test out her new theory, that maybe
any man would do. But first she needed to know if Justin was a rearend man.

―Well,‖ she began nervously, ―let me get your desk number and I‘ll give you a call later. Maybe we
can do lunch.‖

Deliberately, she brushed firmly against him as she swung around. Spotting a note pad and pen

conveniently placed across the desk, she bent forward, and stretched unnecessarily to reach them.

She felt her already short dress rise, revealing more of her thighs. Justin‘s hands slipped immediately

to her hips and she thrilled at his hard-on pressing against her. Before she could encourage him to
slip off her panties, and shove it in her, he flipped her over to her back.

He shoved her skirt up to her waist and hooked his fingers in her panties. Common sense returned
to her. ―Hold on, someone might come in.‖

He grinned, ―Don‘t worry, the employees here are constantly in meetings or collaborating in other

ways over the projects they‘re working on. Besides, haven‘t you ever had sex in an office? ‖

―No,‖ she admitted. ―It‘s because I—‖

―No worries. You‘ll like it.‖ The lust was practically pouring from his eyes as he snatched away her
panties and tossed them on her chair. When she was laid naked and inviting before him, he gasped.

―What is it? ‖ She smiled and propped her feet on the arms of the chair, with him caught in the

middle. She was never shy about her form. Trace had enjoyed watching her walk around naked. And
sometimes she‘d even dance that way for him. ―Don‘t you like what you see? ‖

―Is it possible not to? ‖ He gingerly toyed with the diamond stud almost hidden among her intimate
curls. ―You‘re pierced.‖

She pouted, ―You don‘t like it? ‖

In answer, he dropped down to his knees and buried his mouth between her thighs. When she felt
his tongue dart between her folds, Lisa bit her lip and arched her back. If he continued as he was,

lapping and eating from her moist mound, he‘d learn just why she couldn‘t have sex in an office. She
was a screamer.

The sensations escalated and Lisa bucked hard against his seeking mouth. Her fingers curled in his
hair and jammed his head down so she‘d get as much of his tongue inside her wet tunnel as possible.

Before she could reach her peak, Justin stood and unzipped his pants. She watched him with
anticipation, praying he had good equipment and knew how to use it well. She could almost feel it

burrowing hard inside her, sweetly tormenting.

His shaft uncovered, it was just as she hoped—bobbing and ready, thicker than she‘d seen in a long
time. She wouldn‘t allow her mind to compare it to Trace‘s perfection. Not able to wait any longer

for her climax, she hooked her thighs around his waist and yanked him forward with her leg
muscles.

He braced himself against the edge of the table, grinning down at her, ―You‘re ready?‖

―Really ready,‖ she growled.

He plunged within her depths, stretching her muscles to the point of pain. She squirmed and bit her

lip, arching her back. Justin looked hesitant and made to slow down, but she yanked him again with
a threatening look that had him stroking evenly in and out of her. The sheer motion and friction of

his almost forced entry had her writhing for more, at a much faster pace.

When her orgasm was eminent, a screech rose in her throat. She opened her eyes in time to see the
look of shock ripple across Justin‘s face, before he clamped a hand down on her mouth. She shook

her head back and forth, riding tidal waves of bliss, wishing he‘d shove harder.

―Faster. Harder,‖ she mumbled around his hand. And then her release came swift and sure,

satisfying her needs for the moment. They rocked together until the waves gentled, each of them
panting with exhaustion.

Justin pulled back, glancing at his watch, ―Come. Get cleaned up. This area will light up with people
in about five minutes, when the meeting ends.‖

Still enjoying the aftermath of sensation, she sat up, ―Ok, but you must promise to meet me after

work. I want more of that.‖

Justin winked, ―Count on it.‖ He fastened the button on his pants and moved toward the bathroom,

as he called over his shoulder, ―Oh by the way, Lisa, this is my office.‖

Chapter Three

―So who is he?‖

Lisa glanced up from perusing the various patterns, The Design Barn held. ―Who is who?‖

Justin swung to face her, resting his hip against the side of the bin of multi-colored fabrics. ―Who is
the guy you‘re hung up on? You know, the one who holds your heart?‖

Her eyes widened, ―I—I don‘t know what you‘re talking about?‖ She turned away, hiding her face.

―I‘m not hung up on anybody. Like I said, I‘m not interested in a relationship right now. I like sex.
We‘re good together in that sense. End of story.‖

―Uh-huh. I‘m not buying.‖ He tugged at her arm until she looked at him again. ―Now, tell me the
truth. I‘m not judging you, Lisa. I just want to know what I‘m up against when I fight to win your

heart.‖

She gasped and backed away. He couldn‘t be serious.

He chuckled, ―Just kidding.‖

She cast him a doubtful look. Somehow she didn‘t think he was being totally honest with her. Just as
she said, she didn‘t want a relationship, and had made it quite clear about her intentions regarding

their bedroom activities. But even a person with no judgment of character could see Justin was the
marrying kind. He would not be content to date for years, with no intention of committing.

She studied him. He was kind and attentive. He listened. If she could somehow retrieve her heart
from Trace, she could make a go at something great with Justin. Time would tell, and she‘d keep

seeing him until something gave. Maybe the more she saw him, the more she‘d care, possibly even

fall in love. But she wasn‘t in the market to hurt anyone, so she‘d been open about her motives. It
hadn‘t occurred to her that he would still be hopeful for something more—and so soon.

―I don‘t believe you,‖ she told him. ―I think you want me to love you. You think there could be

something between us.‖

―It‘s not impossible. You could come to love me.‖

Irritated, she slapped down the vase she‘d been studying and marched away, hiding her relief that
her anger hadn‘t caused it to break. She called over her shoulder, ―You can‘t convince me that you

care about me that quickly, Justin. We‘ve only been seeing each other a week.‖

―A week and a half. And no I‘m not saying I love you.‖ He grabbed her arm to stop her escape.
―I‘m saying it could happen and I want to know what I‘m facing. Who‘s the guy and what did he do

to make you hurt so much over him?‖

She stared silently.

―I can see it in those sienna colored eyes of yours that you‘ve been hurt.‖ He stroked her cheek. ―I

want to know how I can erase that look; how I can make you forget him.‖

She couldn‘t say his gentleness didn‘t appeal to her. A man treating a woman as Justin treated her in

their short time together was not something to overlook. But gentle attentiveness would not erase
the brand Trace had put on her emotions and her body. In the middle of the night, she still

experienced an overpowering desire to be used sexually. How she ached to have her clothes torn
from her body and then be bent over a chair with a thick shaft rammed into her from behind. She

could weep just thinking about it. She hadn‘t yet gotten the nerve up to ask Justin to give it to her
that way.

―Ok fine,‖ she capitulated. ―If you must know, I met him on a beach in South Carolina.‖ She paid
for her purchases and they left the store, heading for his car. ―I had just walked in on my boyfriend

doing some whore he‘d met in the day and a half we were down there. I don‘t know why I was even
crying over him. I had been thinking just before that I wanted to end it.‖

―That‘s when you met this new guy?‖

She nodded. ―Yes, Trace.‖

She clamped down on the name, hoping he didn‘t hear how lovingly she still said it. A peek at his

face showed he was simply strolling along, without a care. A deceptive look if she ever saw one.

―I was bumbling along and didn‘t see him lounging in a chair right ahead of me. I fell on him and

well, we got to talking. Funny enough, he was there hiding out from some socialite‘s ambitious
father. His set didn‘t expect to find him on an American beach when he could be anywhere, like

Turkey or something.‖

His face was set with disapproval, ―So you went out of one bad relationship, into another.‖

She stopped, ―You don‘t know anything about it. And I didn‘t ask your opinion. For your

information, Trace didn‘t mistreat me. He was generous and kind and –‖

―And if everything was so perfect, why aren‘t you with him now?‖

She turned on her heel and walked back the way they‘d come. She‘d learned at least how to get
home by bus since she‘d been in New York. Justin wasn‘t judging her. Hah! What a joke that was.

He caught up to her, ―Lisa, I‘m sorry. I shouldn‘t have said that. I don‘t know anything about it.‖

―No you don‘t, and I‘ll thank you not to give your opinion about what you don‘t know,‖ she told
him in a huff.

―Agreed.‖ He pulled her against him and brushed a kiss across her lips. ―Now, let‘s make up and go
to the party tonight, huh? I think you‘ll have a good time.‖

She was doubtful of that. After the practical joke of making her think his office was hers, she didn‘t
want to spend any more time with her co-workers outside the work place.

She didn‘t feel the Mundel Advertising staff signified the majority of the inhabitants of the Big

Apple, at least she hoped not. Her neighbors in her new apartment for one were quite hospitable,
but MA employees went beyond anything to the point of being somewhat cut-throat. Advertising in

Holt was a whole other ballgame from this place. She just hoped she could keep her head up long
enough to get that country girl scent off herself and become a success.

Chapter Four

Lisa tapped a toe to the beat of the music and rocked her shoulders slightly in line with the beat. She
scanned the crowd, a few familiar faces and a whole slew of new ones. She thought she saw a girl

she‘d been getting to know from at work and stood on tiptoe to get a better look.

―Looking for me?‖ a sexy voice rumbled from behind her.

She stiffened, easily identifying the person over the blast of music and elevated conversation. She
swung to face him. ―What are you doing here, Trace?‖

His even, white grin sent butterflies flying across her stomach. The confident pose he struck let her

know he was aware of the way he affected her.

―Oh, didn‘t I tell you? I have stock in this company. Major shareholders are invited to this shindig

every year. I thought I‘d drop in, see if the food and wine was any good.‖

She frowned, her hands finding their way to her hips, ―Yeah right, Trace. You found out I work for

Mundel Advertising and you‘re here to seduce me into coming back to you. I won‘t be stalked, do
you understand?‖

In the midst of her tirade, a model-like creature slunk up to Trace‘s side. Then the six-foot blond

hooked an arm through Trace‘s and pouted up at him. Lisa felt the shrimp puff she‘d consumed
earlier shift in her stomach. He could not have brought a date to stalk her, could he? Or was she

being self-centered?

Trace had the grace not to rub it in her face. He performed a brief introduction and soon

succumbed to the woman‘s demand to dance. Lisa had stood mute throughout the exchange and
now felt like a fool. Of course Trace had moved on. Hadn‘t she? It was stupid that part of her that

hoped he‘d suffered for a while before he finally came back to her begging for forgiveness.

For much of the evening, she mingled and met a few more people, though the cloud of depression
barely lifted from her shoulders. It was torment to watch Trace encircle the tiny waist of his date, as

they swayed to a slow song. And though she‘d demanded herself not to look their way, her
traitorous gaze disobeyed every few minutes.

Finally, unable to take anymore, she headed toward the French doors she‘d strolled by earlier and
exited out into an elaborate garden. The scent of jasmine wafted past her nose as she ambled along a

narrow path. The constant chatter from the room she‘d left began to fade into a gentle hum, along
with the music floating on the air. The cricket‘s song blended to ease her stress and unhappiness.

―Remember Panama?‖

Her heart beat faster, but she didn‘t turn. ―Of course. You insisted I leave work for the rest of the
week, bribed my boss so I wouldn‘t get into trouble for it and whisked me across the world.‖

He chuckled, ―If those gardens could tell our secrets….‖

She trembled, remembering. Trace had taught her things among those sycamore trees that she‘d
never imagined would feel so good. His fingers, his tongue, his body had sought out and found all of

her sensitive spots, places that made her plead for him never to stop.

Suddenly, she remembered something else significant about that night. Trace had opened his heart,

told her of his past.

He‘d taken her hand and led her to one of the benches lining the walkway. He‘d pulled her down to

his lap. ―I want to tell you about where I come from, Lisa.‖

She‘d laughed, ―I know where you come from. Montana, right? Come on, kiss me again, Trace.‖

He‘d brushed gentle fingers across her lips. ―Shh, baby. Listen. Yes, I was born in Montana—to
parents I never knew. I was turned over to the state right away, living in foster homes until I was

eighteen. That‘s common these days, I guess.‖

Sorrow for his lack of family filled her heart. How difficult life must have been. He‘d continued.

―I lived mostly with those who were more interested in getting the extra income than in seeing that I

had a decent life, and my needs met properly. At first I let it get to me. I worked extra hard to be a
screwup—failing classes, getting into trouble. Then one late night when I was up at two in the

morning watching horror movies, something just hit me. My success was my choice. I could just feel
sorry for myself, maybe get a low paying job or turn to crime, or I could make a decision to pursue

anything that would get me out of my present situation. I chose the second. Investing had always
interested me, though I‘d never done much about it. But after my decision, I devoured every book

on the subject I could get my hands on.‖

She‘d snuggled deeper into his hold, ―But how could you invest? Don‘t they say you have to have

money to make it?‖

He‘d grinned and nodded, ―Yes, but I began with studying the market--charts, graphs, predictions. It

was beginning to make sense. And one day, I decided to put it to use in a unique way.‖

Lisa suddenly burst out laughing at the memory of how Trace had put his new skill to ‗use.‘ Trace,
who hadn‘t stopped watching her since he joined her on the path in the present, gave her a curious

look.

―What‘s so funny?‖

―I remember what you said that night how you put your new skill to use,‖ she told him.

He chuckled, ―Ah, yes. Bribed my foster father. And here I was trying to get you to remember how
well our sexual appetites had been satisfied that night.‖

She rolled her eyes, ―I had forgotten that part. All I recall is you telling me you threatened him with

showing his wife the picture of his pale behind bobbing in the air over his girlfriend if he didn‘t
invest some money in your favorite stock.‖

He shrugged, ―And the rest was history.‖

He stepped closer to her, the moonlight catching his handsome face and framing it for her viewing

pleasure. A strong finger trailed along her cheek, before he dipped his finger inside her mouth. She
sucked it, closing her eyes. His hungry groan rocked her.

She pulled back, ―What about the model, um, what was her name?‖

―Does it matter?‖

―No.‖

Their lips met, tongues entwined. She shouldn‘t do this. It was entangling her heart all over again

just when she‘d thought the pain of leaving him was lessening. But Trace was like an addiction. One
taste of him set her off, creating a powerful craving she had little resistance against.

He locked his fingers with hers, their arms at their sides, bodies meeting in the darkness. A flood of
sensation washed over her, making her ache with desire. And then she cried silently, knowing Trace

had no one now that he didn‘t have her. He had no family at all that he knew of. His friends were
scattered about the world, people he‘d met in every city he visited. But that wasn‘t the same.

She pulled back to search his eyes. He always hid the deeper emotions, never allowing anyone to see
his pain. Even when she left, he‘d held it all inside. She supposed it was a product of his upbringing,

something he‘d never overcome. Maybe he never wished to.

Reluctantly, she pulled from his embrace. ―I should get back inside.‖

―Another moment.‖

―Your date and mine will be looking for us,‖ she told him.

She didn‘t need the moonlight to know he was angry. ―Just who is that guy you came with? He‘s had
his hand on your rear all night. I don‘t like it and if he doesn‘t—‖

―I‘m not yours anymore, remember?‖ She stepped back, crossing her arms. ―It‘s none of your
business who I date. You didn‘t see me demanding who the whore was you were with.‖

―Jealous much?‖

She held up her hands to ward off the argument. ―Whatever, Trace. I‘ve got to get back inside.‖

He caught her arm and whirled her to face him. ―Admit to me that you still want me, that you still

dream about me buried hard inside you.‖

He ran a rough hand down over her rear, fingering her through her dress and panties. ―Admit you
want me filling you right here, right now.‖

―What will that prove?‖ She gasped, wanting it so bad, it hurt. Her panties were soaked. She
imagined he could smell the pungent scent of her juices already flowing for him. ―It doesn‘t change

my decision. We‘re still right here with so much between us, forbidding a future together.‖

―The only thing forbidding us is you, Lisa.‖

―Why can‘t you understand?‖ she railed. ―What do I need to do to get it through your thick skull?‖

Angry, he tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged slightly. She whimpered, her head falling

backward, her mouth involuntarily offered to him. His hovered, his breath warm on her lips though
he didn‘t make contact.

―Stop,‖ she whispered.

―Why?‖ He didn‘t move his mouth from above hers. ―You like it when I‘m rough with you. You

love me stroking so deep inside you that you scream for more. Does he spank you like I do? Hmm?
Does he make you cum bending over a chair?‖

Maybe she felt she deserved his torment for walking out on him. Since the day he professed his love

in Venice, Lisa had never doubted it once. As sexy as he was, Trace wasn‘t the type to womanize,
jumping from woman to woman. Many times, she asked herself to just accept what and who he was.

At least he was faithful. Wasn‘t it better to have such a good man, one you loved rather than being
without him because he chose freedom rather than a family?

And then she was angry too. He was manipulating her emotions, her desires. He knew the buttons
to push to make her heat rise. But she knew his buttons too. Nights in his bed weren‘t spent only in

pleasuring her. Lisa knew the thing that would set Trace off. She turned the tables.

She ran a hand down over his solid chest, hanging her fingers on the band of his pants. She paused

only a second before plunging lower to cup his swollen shaft, stroking it and pinching at the head.

―Aw, baby. I know what you miss,‖ she whispered back to him. ―You miss me drinking your sweet
and salty juices right? Sucking until you explode in my mouth. That‘s what you miss, isn‘t it,

darling?‖

Trace flinched. She saw at once that he was no longer in control. Yet, it was too late. She had played
with fire and was going to be burned. The power she held over him was heady, and she wanted to

keep it.

Dropping to her knees, she unbuttoned his pants and reached inside to retrieve his thick erection. It

curved toward her as if in anticipation of her wet tongue. The greedy hunger stealing over her at
seeing him naked was hard to resist, but she worked to control it, to savor what pleased her as much

as him.

Her tongue darted out to lave at his balls. She sucked on one and then the other, alternately drawing

each into her mouth. Trace‘s grunt and his fingers tangled in her hair to drag her head closer,
encouraged her to continue.

She slid her tongue up the side of his hard-on and then took as much as she could into her mouth,

sucking until he bucked against her, almost losing his balance.

―Lisa, baby, what are you doing to me?‖ he growled weakly.

Satisfied that she was now the dominant, she sucked harder, swallowing more of him until she felt
his balls tighten and rise. An instant later, he exploded in her mouth and she hungrily drank every

delicious drop. She relished his taste, sucking for more until he was dry.

Finally, she pulled back, but let his member rest against her lips and along one cheek. She breathed
in his heady scent, the mixture of sweat and hot lust. When a tear slid silently down her cheek, she

swiped it away and then stood.

Chapter Five

―Come with me.‖

She sat forward, fluffed her pillow behind her and studied Justin as he dressed for an early meeting.

―Where?‖

He glanced up from his tie, catching her gaze in the mirror, ―To Chicago. I have a series of meetings

there. It shouldn‘t take longer than three or four days tops. Then I can take you shopping.‖

―I can take myself shopping thank you very much.‖ She turned her attention back to the morning
paper and her glass of orange juice. ―Besides, you‘re not good company when you‘re working.‖

―Ok, smarty-pants. Take yourself shopping in Chicago and I‘ll meet you for breakfast and dinner
each day we‘re there. That way, my attention can be solely on you during those times.‖

Lisa thought about it. Ever since the night she walked away from Trace almost two months ago,
she‘d spent as much time with Justin as she could, hoping that her growing affection for him would

drown out the lust she felt for Trace. As she watched him rushing about her bedroom, she could
honestly say she loved him. It wasn‘t the all-consuming love that she‘d felt for Trace, but that was

better anyway. She didn‘t get her heart broken every time Justin put his work before her. He did
spend plenty of time with her. She didn‘t feel neglected at all, proof being in his invitation to join

him.

She tossed aside the paper and rose, before crossing the room to stand behind him. ―Why not?
Might be fun.‖

* * * *

―Look, I didn‘t mean it the way it sounded.‖ Justin‘s tone was harassed.

Lisa knew he was barely in control of his anger, maybe not as apologetic as he should be. ―Now why
don‘t I believe that? Sometimes I think you get the impression that I‘m not capable of taking care of

myself.‖

―That‘s not true. I simply care about you. I want to be a part of your life in every way I can.‖

Lisa flopped down on the bed, still annoyed with Justin despite his explanation. She wanted to just
hang up on him, but resisted. ―Dictating to me where I can and cannot go, instructing me on what I

need to say and—the piece de la resistance—hinting at me removing my diamond stud? If that‘s not
control, I don‘t know what is.‖

―Lisa calm down. Let‘s talk about this. And surely flying back home without telling me wasn‘t the

answer,‖ he complained. ―That‘s really mature.‖

Without a word, she pulled the phone away from her ear, pounded disconnect and tossed away the

phone on the bed.

She stood and paced from one side of the room to the other, feeling like a caged animal. How dare

he act as if he owned her, making her feel like a child, incapable of making her own decisions. She‘d
survived on this earth for twenty-nine years without his guidance, and she didn‘t need it now that

she knew him. What kind of arrogant, self-centered person thought a grown woman couldn‘t choose
the correct words to greet a client or when to come and go? And if he thought she was taking out

her stud, he had another thought coming.

―I can‘t believe him,‖ she railed to the walls and pigeons on the window ledge.

She‘d been home a good day and a half and her anger still hadn‘t lessened. Probably if she calmed

down long enough, she‘d get to the real reason she was so angry with Justin. This thought stopped
her in her tracks, and she stared blankly out her window to the bakery across the street. Disjointedly,

she realized the lure of those freshly baked sweets was what had caused her to gain ten pounds since
moving into this apartment.

She forced her mind back to her present circumstances, and to Justin‘s behavior. Calmer now, she

realized why she was so angry. Some thought in the back of her mind had told her Justin should be
the perfect guy to marry. His attempt to control her decisions was interfering with her sub-conscious

plans, and she wasn‘t happy about it.

She chuckled softly. ―So Justin isn‘t perfect. Nobody is.‖

A key sounded in the lock at her front door. She frowned. He was back? Where had he been calling
from? She marched to the tiny foyer and held out a hand when he opened the door. ―My keys,

please.‖

He paused, ―Can we talk about this?‖

―What is there to talk about? You‘re under the impression that I‘m a ten-year-old needing Daddy‘s

guidance and you‘re mistaken. Nothing to discuss. Keys.‖ She wiggled her fingers and he placed the
keys in her hand.

She tossed them on the hall table and walked to the kitchen. Her movements were jerky and angry
as she prepared a sandwich. It was already three in the afternoon and she hadn‘t eaten that day.

Justin followed.

―Listen, baby—‖

―Don‘t call me baby.‖ She slapped a slice of ham between two pieces of rye smeared in mayonnaise.

Justin grimaced. ―Okay, Lisa. I made a mistake. I‘m sorry. Are you going to hold it against me
forever? I thought we had something going here that—‖

―We had sex. That‘s it, nothing else, Justin.‖ Taking a single bite of the horrid sandwich, she tossed

it into the trash. ―I said from the beginning that was all I wanted.‖

―Then why are you so angry?‖

She stopped and watched him silently a moment. Then, ―You‘re right.‖

―What?‖

―You‘re absolutely right.‖ She grabbed at his tie, hanging loosely about his neck, and yanked him

from the kitchen to her bedroom. ―Now, strip.‖

―Lisa….‖

―Strip, Justin.‖ She began removing the simple straight dress she wore and kicked off her sandals

before pulling the headband from her hair. ―Get naked and I‘ll ride you until your eyes pop out.
That‘s all I want. Your body.‖

She thought he wasn‘t going to do it. If she‘d learned anything about Justin over these last few
months, it was that he was a romantic lover. He thrived on tender caresses, gentle touches. And

there was a place for that in her own desires. She enjoyed his touch very much. But more often than
not, she liked wild, untamed sex. Her anger had her wanting to show him what she could do in bed,

how she could make him bend to her demands.

It may have been the influence of Lisa standing there in her lilac thong panties and a scrap of lace

covering her full breasts, but Justin wasted no time in undressing. With dominance in her every step,

Lisa crossed the room and shoved hard until he fell onto her bed. She straddled him, sitting heavily
on his growing shaft while watching his expression.

―You want a gentle miss by your side, but you‘re just like any man who responds to a freak in your

bed.‖ She covered his mouth when he would have spoken. ―No, don‘t deny it. The rock under me
tells it all. Now, let‘s see what damage I can do to make you pay for what you did.‖

She almost burst out laughing at his shocked expression. Lifting herself from him, she bent down to
run a tongue along his inner thigh. He shivered and she let the exploration ascend until she had his

swollen head inside her mouth, sucking first gently and then hard.

He gasped, ―Lisa.‖

She pulled back. ―You want me to stop?‖

He didn‘t answer, and she dropped down to take him in her mouth again. When his balls rose and
tightened, she released him again, knowing it was torment. This time she moved to his nipples,

nipped and teased them until he was writhing and groaning. He ran a hand down her spine and
hooked fingers inside her panties, squeezing her rear.

She yelped, desperate for his fingers to make connection with her rectum, but that would give him
control, so she pushed his hand away. Returning her attention to his erection, she sucked and teased

alternately until finally, only after he begged, she brought him to a wild release.

Teasing him, tugging on him until he was hard again, she pulled aside the crotch of her panties and
mounted him, coaxing his thick length to ease deep inside her. She rode slowly at first, allowing her

muscles to relax against his girth, and then she rode fast and hard.

With a desperate hunger that needed satisfying right then, she bucked against him, her nails digging

into the muscled flesh on his stomach. He pulled at her fingers, but she held on, demanding

satisfaction. She was almost there. Her passion increased, cresting high and ready to explode. Just a
moment more and she‘d reach the wonderful pinnacle of intimacy with her lover.

―So this is what you‘ve been up to since I last saw you.‖

Lisa screamed and fell over onto Justin. Just as quickly, he whipped her to the side and tossed covers
over her naked form. She clung to Justin‘s arm to keep from landing on the floor and then glared up

at Trace.

Despite herself, her already churning lust, increased exponentially at seeing Trace leaning negligently

against her bedroom doorframe. The tight black slacks, matching collared shirt and boots made him
look like steak at an all-you-can-eat restaurant. All at once, the pleasure she‘d experienced with Justin

a moment ago, faded into the back of her mind.

And then her anger at his presumptuousness for breaking into her home, surfaced to drown out her
desire for him. ―How dare you break in here? Get out, Trace, or I‘ll call the police and have you

forcibly removed.‖

He didn‘t budge. ―Now, baby. You and I both know you don‘t want that.‖ His words slurred

somewhat, and Lisa wrinkled her nose in distaste. He‘d been drinking.

―I can‘t believe you‘d come here drunk.‖ She pushed back the covers and stood. ―Go home and

sleep it off.‖

―Lisa, you‘re naked,‖ Justin reminded her.

She ignored him. She‘d made a habit of walking around naked in front of her lover—both of them.

She would not behave like the shy schoolgirl now. She advanced on Trace and shoved at his solid
chest, trying to get him to move from her doorway. ―I said get out.‖

―No.‖

She growled and pulled back to swing a fist at his face. Even inebriated, he caught it without trouble.
His large hand closed over hers and he stared into her eyes. She couldn‘t bring herself to turn away.

―Trace.‖

―I guess you don‘t know what today is, huh?‖ he asked, no emotion in his voice.

She wracked her brain, brought up a calendar in her mind, the month and day. It was their

anniversary, five years to the day she‘d fallen into his lap. Anguish washed over her, for herself and
for the love she lost—the man who must be hurting.

―Trace.‖ She moaned it this time, and stroked his face.

―Lisa?‖ Justin‘s voice irritated her at that moment. She wanted to look at Trace, to remember if only

for this time.

―Please, Justin,‖ she whispered. ―We‘ll just talk.‖

Her eyes shifted to Justin‘s angry face. His nostrils were flared, his eyebrows bunched and the tight

lips barely let words pass them. ―Put some clothes on. And I‘m not leaving with him here. So forget
it.‖

―Did I ask you to?‖ The snapped words were unintentional. She didn‘t want either of them hurt and
certainly didn‘t want to antagonize Justin. She wouldn‘t do anything with Trace, just talk and make

him feel better, be his friend. ―Ok, you two wait outside while I get something on.‖

She shuffled the two out, tossing Justin‘s clothes along with him, and quickly threw on a simple
dress with nothing on underneath. She needed to get out there before the two men came to blows.

There was no telling how she‘d calm Trace, while keeping Justin from being jealous. As she left her
room, she wondered how she‘d gotten herself into this mess.

Lisa joined the two men in the living room. Justin had helped himself to a drink. Like that’s going to

help anything! And Trace was nursing his head. Serves the idiot right, she thought, unkindly.

She dropped onto the couch, close but not too close, to Trace. A glance up at Justin by the window

let her know he wasn‘t yet ready to start anything with her ex. She began with Trace. ―Look, Trace. I
know what we mean…meant to each other, but that‘s over. I‘m with Justin now.‖

―I‘m not that pathetic, Lisa. I know. I was just in town on business. You know how it is,‖ he
shrugged, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. ―One drink too many leading to stupid acts.‖

She laughed, ―Acapulco?‖

He chuckled, ―Yeah, Acapulco. Bathing in that fountain seemed like a good idea at the time.‖

―I can‘t believe I joined you. How stupid was that?‖ She shook with laughter at the memory of the

two of them almost getting arrested. She‘d sworn off overindulging after that fiasco. Apparently
Trace needed a refresher.

―If you two are finished walking down memory lane….‖ Justin‘s voice held contempt.

Lisa blushed. She‘d forgotten he was there, when seeing Trace after so long. How she missed him,
the way his hair fell long to his shoulders, him refusing to trim it. It was a luxury many men didn‘t

have working in the office environment. Trace could do pretty much whatever he wanted, and he‘d
taken her along for the ride. She smiled, resisting the impulse to run her fingers through his silken

mane.

Right when she would have dismissed Trace yet again, Justin‘s phone rang. He flipped it open to
answer with a curt, ―Hello.‖ She listened while her gaze was still locked with Trace‘s.

Justin broke the trance. ―Honey, I have to go. Lakeland‘s flying in. There‘s a problem.‖ He stepped
forward, and slapped Trace on the back. ―Can I drop you anywhere?‖

Lisa suppressed a laugh at the insinuation that Trace was leaving whether he liked it or not. She

stood, tugging on Trace‘s arm. ―Yes, go, Trace. We‘ll talk another time.‖

Surprisingly, he stood without argument and shuffled unsteadily to the door. At the worried look on

her face, Justin assured her, ―Don‘t worry. I‘ll get him where he needs to be.‖ He brushed her lips
before the door closed behind the two.

It was only after they were gone that she realized she hadn‘t been sexually satisfied for the day.

Chapter Six

Later that night, Lisa stood in her shower washing away the last of the soapy bubbles she‘d spread
across her body in an effort to sooth away the tensions and pent up sexual desire she felt. She‘d

considered digging out a toy or two to do the job, but couldn‘t motivate herself to find fresh
batteries. When she was craving the real thing, plastic just didn‘t cut it.

She bent to turn off the valves when a hand stroked her bottom. She screamed and spun around,
nearly losing her balance. Trace stood at the side of her tub, lust written in his eyes.

―What are you doing back here? I thought you were at your friend‘s loft apartment, sleeping it off,‖
she rambled.

―You know it never lasts.‖ He continued to watch her, his gaze dropping to her naked breasts. ―I

always loved your beautiful brown skin, Lisa. And those dark chocolate nipples make me so
hungry.‖

―Don‘t.‖ She closed her eyes against what he was doing to her with just his words. ―How did you get
in here?‖

―Does it matter?‖

―No.‖

His fingertips grazed first one nipple, then the other, before slipping down her belly to the soft curls

at her apex. She wanted to push his hand away, but the strength to do so wouldn‘t come. The
command to get out stuck in her throat.

―When I walked in before…you were riding him like….‖ His voice was clipped, angry. She knew he
was riling himself on purpose. ―I still wanted you, maybe more seeing that.‖

―Trace, I‘m not—‖

―I know,‖ he interrupted. ―I know everything you‘re telling me, that you‘ve been telling me. My
body doesn‘t respond to the words.‖ He sighed and looked at the floor. She thought he would drop

it, but he continued. ―As much as I wanted you, I wanted to kill him for being inside you, for you
liking him inside you.‖

―Trace,‖ she cried out. But his self-pity was gone in an instant.

―Turn around,‖ he demanded.

―Trace.‖

―Do it.‖

She could say no. That wasn‘t true. She couldn‘t say no. How was she possibly going to resist the
thing she‘d been practically in heat for, for the last few months? The answer was she couldn‘t. On

unsteady feet, she pivoted slowly and then curved forward, bracing her hands on the rack at the back
of her shower. Lukewarm water cascaded down over her as she listened to him undress and then

step in the shower behind her.

He dipped two fingers between her legs into her moist opening. When they were coated in her sticky

juices, he pushed them roughly inside her rear. Lisa howled her delight and shoved back against his
hand.

Not ten strokes in and out, before an arrowed orgasm wracked her body and sent her bucking
against the wall, while Trace followed. Showing little mercy, he replaced his fingers with his shaft

and plunged deeper and harder than she remembered it being.

Her legs gave and he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her up against his wild thrusts. She
was almost limp in his hold, lavishing in the sensations that washed over her. He took her to new

heights of painful delight, one after the other.

When she was up to ten orgasms—Trace prided himself on stroking her until she came at least half

a dozen times—he flipped her around so that he could take her from the front. Lisa wrapped one
leg around his waist and captured his lips in a searing kiss that drove her desires up again. She

moved her fingers across his cheek and down to pinch his nipples while dipping her tongue inside
his mouth.

―Aw, Lisa,‖ he moaned against her lips. ―I have to have…I need…‖ He pulled back, breaking from
her hungry kisses. His gaze bore into hers. ―You do know how much I love you, don‘t you?‖

She whimpered, ―Don‘t, Trace. Let‘s just enjoy this. Please.‖

He jostled her slightly, ―Listen to me.‖

She fell silent.

―You know I love you, don‘t you, Lisa?‖

She nodded, unable to speak. Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought hard to contain them. She‘d
cried enough over Trace. He didn‘t want what she wanted. She‘d accepted that and moved on. Or at

least she moved on until he came around fingering her behind, making her lose all sanity. She sighed
heavily and prepared to climb down from him, plead again that he‘d give her space.

―Well, that‘s all that matters then. I love you. So, I say yes.‖

She stiffened, ―Yes? To what?‖

―To marrying you. I say, let‘s pack, fly to Vegas right now and get married.‖

Oh my God! He was serious. She saw it in his earnest expression—that and a slight fear before he
masked it. After all her prayers, he had come back to her. She paused mentally. Had she manipulated

him into it? Blackmailed him? She hadn‘t been using Justin to make him jealous, had she?

She searched her thoughts for a way to appease the guilt she was already feeling for considering—no
not considering—definitely planning to walk out on Justin, to marry Trace. There would be no

warning, no easing into it. It tore at her heart for she cared about Justin, and loved him in her own
way. But this was Trace, the air she breathed.

―Yes,‖ she whispered excitedly. ―Let‘s do it.‖

Chapter Seven

―Caesars Palace?‖ Lisa gasped. ―On such short notice? Surely….‖

―Don‘t worry, I‘m sure we can scare up something.‖ Trace‘s words seemed confident enough, and

she didn‘t doubt what he said, but the antsy look that came into his eyes and the way he seemed
ready to jump out of his skin made her nervous too.

She stepped into the hotel, her hand hooked through his arm and stopped in her tracks at the
luxurious outlay—cathedral ceilings, marble statues, spiraling staircases and shops. She caught her

breath, her eyes widening in awe. It wasn‘t that she hadn‘t seen places where no expense had been
spared. Trace had taken her all over the world—from a Yucatan Discovery Tour to a delicious

month long visit to the Great Barrier Reef. But they‘d always put off the pleasures of home, Trace
feeling there was plenty of time. Now, Lisa was glad to finally enjoy the renowned tourist spots of

the States.

A neatly dressed man rushed forward to be of service and while Trace was occupied getting them
checked in, she wandered in the direction of a clothier. A little trousseau shopping was not out of

the question.

Spotting Pucci, she darted inside, eager to find something interesting. She browsed the accessories,

but was interrupted when her cell rang. A glance at the display showed Justin‘s name. With
trembling fingers, she answered.

―Hello?‖

―Lisa, I...we…argued and I rushed back as soon as I completed my business, only to find a note that
you‘ve left to marry Trace?‖ Pain was obvious in his words. ―I can‘t believe you would do this. We

should have talked.‖

Tears filled her eyes, ―I‘m so sorry, Justin. I never meant to hurt you.‖ She set down the belt she was
examining and moved toward the exit when she noticed the sales person giving her curious looks. ―I

bet you think I‘m the most horrible person. I wouldn‘t blame you feeling like I was using you this
whole time.‖

He disagreed, ―No, you‘ve been plain about where you stood from the beginning. I was the fool

who….‖

―Who what?‖ She knew she shouldn‘t ask. It would take a fool not to notice a man falling in love,

especially one as open as Justin.

―Nothing.‖ He grew quiet for a few moments. ―I can‘t say I am not angry with you for doing this. I

think you‘re making a huge mistake from all you‘ve said about this guy. I mean what makes you
think he‘ll stay with you? Or that he won‘t let you down when you need him? I know his type—‖

―Stop right there!‖ she growled into the phone. ―That‘s the very thing that pisses me off. You and

your superior attitude, like everyone is beneath your perfect moral code. You don‘t know Trace.
Again, I am desperately sorry that I handled things this way. I‘m sorry we couldn‘t have something

more because I think you‘d make a great…boyfriend and maybe more.‖

―With someone else, not you, right?‖

―I‘m sorry.‖

She heard his fist slam into something and winced. His voice was thick when he spoke again. ―He‘ll
screw up again, Lisa. You‘re a fool if you don‘t see that, and I‘m not going to be here to pick up the

pieces when he does.‖

Choking on his gull, she stabbed an angry finger into the disconnect button and flung her phone

back inside her purse. How dare he judge her relationship with Trace? He didn‘t know her or him
that well.

As she stomped her way back to her fiancé‘s side, the niggling doubt refused to be silenced. Trace
had been quiet the entire flight out here, and when he did speak, he seemed barely able to contain

his irritation. Was he having second thoughts? Cold feet?

She reached the point where she‘d first wandered away from him and looked around. A hotel

employee was hurrying purposely past and she called out to him, ―Excuse me, I‘m sure you don‘t
know who he is, but my fiancé is Trace Averall. Have you seen him around?‖

The man paused, a friendly smile already forming on his lips, ―Of course, Ma‘am. I believe Mr.

Averall has gone into the lounge.‖ He gestured with his hand to the right.

―Thank you.‖

He nodded his head slightly and moved on. Lisa strolled in the direction he indicated, greeting other
guests as she moved. Just the vacationing atmosphere, the feeling of grabbing at all the fun that

could be had, was beginning to calm her. She allowed the fear she felt at Justin‘s cruel words to melt
away.

He was upset. That was understandable. Yes, she had been plain in her statement that she wasn‘t

interested in anything serious, but truth be told, they had grown closer. She was considering making
it more of a relationship. In fact, she did love him in her own way. Justin was a good man. He had

some faults, but so did everyone, including herself.

As she reached for the handle leading into the lounge, she shook her head, with a laugh. Well, Justin

was a thing of the past now. Her future was with Trace and she couldn‘t wait to find out where
they‘d be married, and when. If she knew Trace, it would be a memorable experience. He didn‘t do

things small time; he went all out.

She stepped into the dimly lit room and waited for her eyes to adjust. Glancing around, she grinned

again, thinking she knew just the way to ease Trace‘s worry over their upcoming nuptials. A good
tongue-lashing of the teasing kind would do the trick.

―Ma‘am, may I help you find someone?‖ another employee spoke from her side.

She shook her head, ―No, thank you. I will find him.‖ She wanted to walk up and toss her arms

around her lover. She wanted to kiss him silly and pull him up to whatever room he‘d secured and
get him naked as quickly as possible.

Moving past clusters of chairs, people happily enjoying the mellow tones of a jazz band, she didn‘t

spot him at first. Then over the heads of a few excited strangers, she saw him in a corner seat. Her
heart dropped into her toes and the room swirled.

Trace sat with a woman on his lap, a whore with her fake breasts practically bursting from her tight
white dress. His hand was on a creamy thigh, exposed because of the shortness of her attire. Worst

of all, the full lips she‘d drank from so many times before were nearly devouring this young beauty.

With lead feet, Lisa moved toward them, thinking all the way, that he never—to her knowledge—

cheated on her. Her thoughts weren‘t making sense. She struggled to comprehend why, of all times,
he would do something like this.

Drawing up beside them and not knowing what else to do, she reached out and caught a hold of his

long hair. A good hard yank backward disconnected his lips from the woman‘s cleavage.

―Trace,‖ she whispered. ―What the hell are you doing?‖ It was a stupid question. It was obvious

what he was doing. Cheating, the bastard!

He jumped up, sending the woman flying. Even in the dimmed lighting, she could see his face

redden. He stumbled over words of explanation, ―I didn‘t mean to do this, Lisa. It just happened.
I—‖

With as much aggression as possible, she drove a hand across the side of his face. His head snapped
to the side and the crack of her palm meeting his cheek had the room quiet in an instant.

Lisa ignored everyone, even the woman still protesting at their feet. ―You followed me everywhere I

went. You found my new place, got the landlord to give you a key. You seduced me into coming
back to you when all I wanted was the wonder of a family of my own.‖ Tears welled up in her eyes

and spilled down her cheeks. She swiped at them with the back of her stinging hand. ―You were too
selfish to let me go. You thought I should still be your plaything, no matter what I wanted. And then

you find a moment where you can give me what I have dreamed of for so long. And instead of
carrying through, you do this—with her.‖

She was crying in earnest now, covering his mouth rudely when he tried to speak. She didn‘t want to
hear a word from him.

―No. Don‘t you say anything. I finally figured it out; why you won‘t commit to me in marriage.
Because you‘re a coward. And you took the coward‘s way out. Cheating instead of telling me you

couldn‘t handle it—that you still weren‘t ready. Well fine, Trace. Have it your way. I‘m done. Have
the decency never to contact me again.‖

She marched out of the lounge and out of the hotel, unsure of where she was going or how she‘d get

there.

* * * *

Lisa had left her job. She had an interview with another firm—smaller, more friendly. Funny, she‘d
traveled so far to find that she needed a simpler life. She wasn‘t ready to concede defeat and go back

to Holt, but an easier pace would still be welcome.

It had been several weeks and she hadn‘t heard from Trace, nor spoken to Justin. It had been pure
humiliation to have to come back to town still single, a blatant advertisement that Justin had been

right. Trace did let her down just as he predicted.

Now she lay across her bed most nights drawing, throwing herself into updating her portfolio and
hoping just to be happy wherever she wound up. As much as she longed for it, it seemed an

impossibility. Trace was still deep inside and wouldn‘t let go.

She was putting away her supplies and preparing for bed when the phone rang. She stiffened,
worried about who it might be. Moving to the cordless tossed negligently on her bed, she pressed

the talk button without looking at the ID.

―Hello?‖

―Lisa. How are you?‖ It was Justin.

Still wary, she sat down. ―I‘m fine, thank you. I‘m about to go to bed, if this isn‘t important….‖

―No, wait. Please, I‘d like to talk to you if you‘ll meet me for lunch tomorrow.‖

She was prepared to refuse, being in no mood to be lectured or reminded of how he‘d warned her.
―Look, Justin. I think there‘s no point in that. What was between us is gone. Now, I‘m turning in.‖

―Lisa, please,‖ he begged. ―Hear me out. I‘m not inviting you to talk about the past unless you want

to. I was thinking of the future.‖

She rolled her eyes, ―Future? I‘m not coming back to Mundel, so forget it.‖

―Ok Mundel‘s out. What about me? How about coming back to me?‖

Chapter Eight

―Are you sure about this?‖ Kate, Lisa‘s best friend, worried at Lisa‘s hair, plucking curls into place.
―You still have time to back out. Trace….‖

―No don‘t. I…can‘t hear that name right now.‖ Lisa pulled away and moved to get her veil. ―What‘s
done is done. I‘ll make a go of it and be happy.‖

Kate flopped down on the abandoned vanity stool. ―Listen to yourself, Lisa. If you have to drudge
up that level of determination to be happy, what you‘re doing isn‘t the right thing. And to be fair,

Justin seems like he deserves a woman who loves him and not another man.‖

Anger flashed in Lisa‘s eyes. Hadn‘t she told herself and Justin that time and again? She wasn‘t using
him, purposely placing him second fiddle to Trace. From the moment he mentioned marriage to her

at the lunch date she‘d made with him, she‘d been absolutely honest. Her feelings for Trace weren‘t
dead. She didn‘t know if they ever would.

―Look, Kate. I told Justin that I‘m not in love with him. I do care for him. I love him in my own
way,‖ she sighed. ―He‘s a good man, strong, selfless. I‘m the lucky one in all this.‖

Kate rolled her eyes and stood to place the veil on Lisa‘s head. ―Whatever. I said my piece. Now,
let‘s make this a really happy day for you.‖

* * * *

Lisa kissed her father‘s cheek and then he exited the room to wait for her in the hall. She turned
toward the mirror, taking in her reflection one last time. In the weeks leading up to her wedding,

she‘d lost so much weight. She pressed a hand to her pale cheek, wondering how a woman could
look so bad on her wedding day.

Her dress was perfect—tiny sequins along the bodice leading down into a V above her navel and
around her short puffed sleeves. The satin and lace material stretched out into the longest train she‘d

ever seen. Kate had made her bouquet, and Lisa had cried when her best friend presented it to her.
Now, here she stood looking like she was attending a funeral.

―Come on, Lisa,‖ she whispered to herself, ―pull yourself together. This is what you wanted. Now

act like it. Justin deserves a devoted wife.‖

She sighed and slumped down to the vanity seat again. How many times had she told him he

deserved better, that her heart wasn‘t completely healed? It didn‘t matter to him. He loved her and
wanted to care for her.

She blew out a breath. She didn‘t need Justin taking care of her, but how could she walk away? What
other man could she possibly love above Trace? Her affection for Justin would no doubt grow and

they‘d live happily together—hopefully. With a forced smile, and optimism in her heart, she stood
and crossed the small room to the door. Excitement stirred in her stomach as she heard the familiar

notes from the pipe organ begin to signal her entrance.

Expecting to see her father waiting outside the door, she stopped dead at the sight of Trace. He
stood just inside the door leading out to the street, as if he‘d just entered. Their eyes locked, but

neither spoke a word.

Lisa‘s heart slammed against her chest. The flowers of her bouquet quivered with the unsteady grip

she held on them. Her eyes drank in the site of Trace, noting that the usual tailored suit hung big on
his body. Dark circles framed his eyes and his skin looked almost translucent in the soft lighting of

the foyer.

It was obvious that he was suffering as much as she was, but she wasn’t about to run into his
arms like the fool he’d made of her in Vegas. He’d made his bed, and she hers. It was too late to
go back. She closed her eyes against the sight of him, willing her foolish heart to stop the
longing. Yet, even as she turned to face the entrance into the sanctuary, her father coming to join
her with a nod to Trace, she couldn’t deny the small hope that somehow he would stop the
wedding.

* * * *

Lisa moved gracefully down the aisle, her head held high and a slight smile curving her lips. She
hoped no one saw how her eyes darted around the crowded room and her hands held her bouquet

in an iron grip. Her breaths came in short bursts, and she parted her lips in hope that her burning
lungs would fill despite the constriction in her throat.

Finally, her gaze settled on Justin just ahead. His smile was somewhat encouraging. A look of awe in
his eyes caused her to blush and look down at the floor. If she‘d questioned it before, that

expression confirmed he was smitten. At least she was going into this marriage with a man who
cherished her, someone who would put her first.

As she drew up beside him, she vowed to do the same. She‘d put Justin first, remembering how he

had been the one there to pick up the pieces, though she‘d treated him as something worthless. He
deserved her devoted love and she‘d give it to him, no matter what it took.

She turned to her soon to be husband, concentrating on his face full of love for her. The minister
made his speech, though Lisa barely attended until he spoke the words she‘d hoped for and dreaded.

―If anyone has a reason why this marriage should not take place, speak now or forever hold your
peace.‖

Lisa stiffened, expectantly. The church was, in an instant, as silent as a tomb. No one dared breathe,

or maybe she was being paranoid. A moment later, someone coughed toward the back. Her ears
strained to hear a voice, though she told herself repeatedly it no longer mattered.

Mentally she traveled the room to the point where he must be standing, toward the back of the
sanctuary where he could make his escape. Her heart gave a silent cry of goodbye and then the

minister pronounced them husband and wife. She was now, Mrs. Justin Fields.

Chapter Nine

―Would you give me a freakin‘ break, Justin!‖ Lisa railed. ―I‘m pregnant, not sick. I don‘t need you
hovering over me like a mother hen. I don‘t need to sit down every minute of this sweltering day.

And I can certainly handle whatever else I deem it necessary to do. Now back off!‖

His eyes grew wide at her tirade. He backed off just as she demanded, his hands held up before him

as if to ward off her verbal attack. ―Ok, ok, Lisa. You getting upset can‘t be good for the baby. And
will you at least consider my idea?‖

She pushed herself forward awkwardly, trying to stand to her feet from the plush lazyboy she‘d
dropped into earlier. The only reason she hadn‘t proven her point of being able to do whatever she

wanted was the difficulty of this chair. She should never have chosen it in the first place. Now she
was sure she looked like the helpless pregnant woman Justin was fond of treating her as. It was so

annoying.

When he reached to help, she slapped away his hand, tossing a scowl his way. Instantly she saw his
demeanor change. A mischievous light came into his eyes and he smirked as one eyebrow lifted.

―I think I know what‘s got you so snippy, my wife,‖ he teased. ―Let me take care of that.‖

The look in his eye was clear enough. He was offering her sex and since her libido had gone into

overdrive with her condition, she‘d craved it night and day—to the point of Justin looking frazzled
after she‘d reached for him so many times. If he weren‘t offering her what she was nearly panting

for all week long, she‘d have laughed at the memory of his face. Sweet Justin. He wouldn‘t dream of
complaining that he had a headache, though she was sure he was tempted.

Justin had her legs apart with minimal effort and was inching exploratory fingers along her inner

thigh, beneath her spaghetti strap sundress. He snagged the band of her panties and she gasped, her
annoyance at him ebbing away with his touch. When the cotton material was caught on her thighs,

he lifted her legs to ease the panties lower. Of their own accord, they parted again to give him a clear
view of her already moist mound.

He groaned, ―Mm, look at that, Lisa. Looks like a sweet treat to me.‖

She trembled, ―Don‘t tease, Justin. You know how I hate that. Come down here and taste what I

have for you.‖

―Sure?‖

He stuck a finger inside her, easing it in and out slow and excruciating. Pleasure rolled like waves

over her, causing her thighs to quiver and bottom lip to become lodged between her teeth.

His tongue soon found her wet spot and he first teased her swollen clit before dipping deep inside

her, to lap at her cream. She bucked and moaned, tangling her hands in his hair to drive him closer.
It was a slow cruel game he played, first nipping and then soothing. Lisa‘s eyes watered and then she

was crying full tilt when a pulsating sensation took control of her body to make her cum.

She squeezed her thighs together against the side of Justin‘s head, clenching again and again. ―Justin,
no. Wait…I….‖

She rode it out, wondering how she‘d gone one day, let alone four without sex. It was so very good.
When her senses calmed slightly, she wiggled in her chair, her tighter opening aching to be licked, to

be bullied into letting the biggest hard-on inside it she could find.

She whined, wanting more so badly, ―Justin—―

―I know what you want, Lisa,‖ he grinned.

Hope rose in her chest as it always did. After all, he couldn‘t lay on top of her with her belly so
round at nine months. Maybe, just maybe he‘d slip into the wrong spot.

He helped her to her feet, and Lisa turned, and bent over the couch as memories flooded her mind

of Trace. She forced them away, determined to concentrate on her husband‘s pleasuring of her.

His fingers found her center again, dipping inside from around her waist and down between her

legs. She moved forward slightly and his fingers slipped to her other neglected opening.

Determined to get what she wanted, she snatched his hand and drove his fingers inside, pushing

down on them. The tight fit, the raw pleasure had her screaming. Justin misunderstood and pulled
back.

―I‘m sorry, honey. I didn‘t mean to hurt you.‖ He seemed near to tears.

―You didn‘t,‖ she sighed turning to face him. ―Not really.‖

―What do you mean?‖

She hesitated. They‘d been married a year. She was about to give birth to his daughter. Was it time

yet to tell him of her fetish to be plunged full in her`, the rougher the better? Looking into his gentle
eyes, she wondered if it would ever be the time. Somehow she knew Justin would be shocked,

unable to handle what she admitted to him. But did that mean she should go through her life
without it, that they shouldn‘t even try?

Annoyance at the prospect made her lips tighten and her determination grow. She looked him in the
eye and blurted, ―I like it from behind, Justin. And I like it rough. I want it to hurt; I come much

harder that way.‖

Just as she knew they would, his eyes grew round, threatening to pop from his head. For moments
he said nothing, his mouth opening and closing with no words emitting. She bit her lip, hoping he‘d

snap out of it soon, say something—anything—that would let her know what he thought of her
admission.

―Lisa, that….‖

―Yes?‖ she said hopefully.

He shook his head, looked down, back at her and then turned away to face the window. He lifted a

trembling hand to the curtain and pulled it back. ―I don‘t know what to say. I find that disgusting.
There‘s no way I‘m putting myself in your behind. I thought it was an accident when my fingers

slipped inside you there. You did it on purpose didn‘t you?‖

He turned back, his glare accusing. She lifted her chin, refusing to feel ashamed, ―So what if I did?
It‘s nothing to be ashamed of. It‘s what I like, and I don‘t see why you can‘t just try it, for me.‖

He bent down and snatched up his pants, which he‘d discarded earlier. ―Forget it. I‘m not doing it,
Lisa. I‘m not risking my child‘s life for you to get your rocks off either.‖

―My rocks!‖ She gasped, shocked, wondering when or how he‘d changed so much after they said
their ―I dos.‖ Or was it that he found her disgusting? Maybe that was the excuse all along. She pulled

on her panties and slipped her feet in her sandals. ―I‘ve had it up to here with your superior attitude,
Justin. You don‘t have to worry anymore about me.‖

―What‘s that supposed to mean?‖ His nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. The reddening of his

complexion signaled he was losing control on his anger, but it didn‘t affect her one bit.

She plucked her purse from the end table beside her and stomped toward the door, tossing back to

him, ―Don‘t worry about what it means.‖

Chapter Ten

Lisa sat with tears wetting her cheeks, clutching a bowl of semi burnt popcorn. She had long since
given up eating it. The salt and butter was destined to give her heartburn, and she had enough to cry

about.

―Like the state of my marriage,‖ she moaned for the hundredth time.

It had seemed like the thing to do when she decided to catch the first flight out to Holt, and back to
her daddy‘s house. Forget the fact that she‘d screwed up the dates he was supposed to take his

fishing trip. Finding his house empty, with no one to comfort her had left her feeling sorry for
herself and indulging on the fudge ripple she‘d picked up in town before catching a ride out here.

She sighed and glanced up at the flash of lightening streaking across the night sky. Now, it looked

like a storm was brewing. There was nothing for her to do but to watch whatever boring show was
on the tube. Her father didn‘t have cable, so she wasn‘t that hopeful. Listlessly, she lifted the remote

and tapped the power button just as the electricity went out.

―Damn!‖

She stood, swaying a little and took a tentative step forward just as a sharp pain ripped across her
abdomen. The shock and impact of it had her doubled in half and gasping for breath. When she‘d

calmed herself and her breathing returned to normal, she started walking again, but another pain
wracked her.

A squeak of terror tore from between clenched teeth, ―Oh God, no, not now.‖

Her body didn‘t listen. The pains were coming regularly as she made her way across the floor in the
dark, one hand stretched out before her while the other clutched her belly. Neither act was getting

her far.

Just as she reached the wall where a tiny flashlight hung on a hook, lightening flashed repeatedly,
causing her to see the utility bill tacked next to the phone. Even without the flashlight she now had

trained on the slip of paper, she knew it was a suspension notice. Her father had forgotten to pay
the bill, and she‘d forgotten to remind him. Worse still, she‘d stupidly let her cell phone die before the

electricity went out.

Just because she didn‘t know what else to do, she picked up the receiver of the phone. There was no

sound. The service had been cut. She was out in the country, with the nearest house a good two
miles away, with no phone and no transportation.

* * * *

After trudging what felt like ten miles, Lisa stumbled up the front steps to her father‘s nearest
neighbor, John Eversly‘s house. The first time she knocked, the tremble and weakness in her hand

caused a low rat-a-tat on the door that she was sure no one would hear. Gathering as much reserve
energy as she could, she knocked louder.

It was only after waiting a good ten minutes, slumped painfully against the door, that she noticed

John‘s truck was not in its usual place. Despair washed over her just as the sky opened to drop a
torrent of rain.

She choked back a sob and started out into the downpour, thoughts of preserving the life of her
baby filling her mind. By the time, she reached the main road, she was soaked, crying in earnest and

stumbling over every pebble that found its way beneath her sore feet.

―Oh God, please. I can‘t take this,‖ she cried out at the sharp contraction that forced her down to

her knees.

She was brushing strands of wet hair from her eyes, when a light nearly blinded her. A car was
heading straight for her. With effort, she was standing again and waving frantic arms. ―Please. Oh

please help me.‖

A pain struck and she bent over, clutching her stomach. With the tormenting pain and exhaustion,
all her strength was gone and she knew in another second she‘d land face down in the mud. My baby!

Strong arms suddenly encircled her, holding her back from falling. Lisa would have uttered some

word of thanks, but no energy remained to speak or look in the face of her rescuer. She could only
hope he wasn‘t a murderer. He lifted her into his arms, and Lisa turned her face against his solid

chest, to ward off the rain. Soon another wrenching contraction tore through her leaving her so
drained, she collapsed unconscious.

* * * *

The birthing process was all now a haze in light of her precious angel, curled trustingly at her side.

Lisa stroked the tiny fingers and stared down into her infant‘s sweet face. ―All that pain, little one,
but it was so worth it to have you.‖

Tears wet her face as she pressed a gentle kiss to her baby‘s cheek. An instant later someone walked

into her room. In all the confusion of being whisked away, she hadn‘t had a chance to thank her
mystery savior. She looked up now to greet who she assumed was a doctor, and then froze.

―Trace,‖ she breathed.

Oh God. He looked so good. All the longing, the hurt of being separated from him so long, came

flooding through her. If she hadn‘t been lying down, she would have fallen. She drank in his smooth
tanned skin, and his smoky eyes, which were trained as desperately on her.

―Lisa, you‘re okay.‖

Her eyes widened, ―You mean it was you? But what—‖

―That isn‘t important right now. Knowing that you‘re okay, and that your daughter is healthy is what
I care about.‖

She gasped and began to cry again. It must be that the hormones weren‘t back in line yet. It was the

residual effect of being pregnant.

He took her hand in his and stroked it. Weak against him, she clutched at his hand and they were

still for long minutes just looking into each other‘s eyes and holding on to each other.

―Trace.‖

―Lisa.‖

She laughed. ―You go.‖

He shrugged, blowing out what looked like a nervous breath, but his gaze never left hers. ―I love

you with all my heart. No, please don‘t turn away from me. I was a fool to do what I did to you. It
wasn‘t because I didn‘t love you. I did. I do. I just got so scared, was so selfish….‖

He raked a hand through his hair and she remained silent, just enjoying hearing his words and seeing

the sincerity in his eyes.

―This year has been hell, pure unadulterated hell. I tried to move on, Lisa. I couldn‘t….‖

He trailed off again and she knew what he was going to say. It seemed impossible. Of their own
accord, her gaze dropped to the front of his pants. Even in her condition, heat shot up her thighs

and pooled between her legs. It was ridiculous that she should want him so much, even now.

He continued, ―I‘ve been grounded, not traveling anywhere. You know that‘s not me. I‘ve spent
these months dreaming of what we had and what we could have had. I guess it‘s too late, but at least

I got to make sure you were safe—more than I can say about your husband.‖

His lips tightened, as if he didn‘t come there to insult her husband. Still, she didn‘t know why he
showed up, just when she needed him.

―What are you doing here, Trace?‖ she wondered aloud.

His sheepish grin made her heart beat quicken. He looked so good. It was as if her eyes had been

starving for a view of him all those months they were apart. Of its own accord, her hand moved to
stroke his check and he covered it with his own.

―Two days ago, I decided I couldn‘t bare another lonely night without you—or day for that matter. I

thought maybe if I stopped by to see your dad, he could talk some sense into me, somehow reassure
me that you were happy now and I shouldn‘t screw it up. Just tonight, I came to your house, but no

one was there. The door was open though and I was worried. Imagine my shock at finding you out
on the road in labor.‖

She winced at the memory. God, she‘d been terrified. And there was Trace, her knight. Even as she
stared up at him, drinking in his grey eyes, she knew she couldn‘t survive without him again. She‘d

made the biggest mistake of her life walking away. There wasn‘t enough strength in the world to
make her do it again. Still, he had hurt her, his fear had come between them.

He spoke again as if he knew what she was thinking, ―I know I hurt you, Lisa. If I could take it back,

I‘d do it in less than a heartbeat. My fear was irrational. There‘s no real excuse for it, but you pegged
it right away. Not once in all the time we were together did I desire another woman. You satisfy my

drive….‖ He laughed then growled, running a hand through his hair, ―We both know how you
satisfy me. I could come just thinking about it.‖

―You just want to ram yourself in a behind. It doesn‘t have to be mine,‖ she teased.

―Don‘t say that!‖

She laughed and patted his hand. Hours passed as they talked and when she drifted a moment, she
heard him whisper something about being right back. She protested, but he wasn‘t gone long, and

she held on to him a long time to keep him there.

The door opened and he dropped her hand like it was on fire. She glanced up confused and noted

her husband in the doorway. Guilt cut off her breath.

The two men nodded and Trace left, to be replaced by Justin. Lisa figured Trace had called him.
That in itself was a testament of him putting her and her needs before his own. She could have wept

with love for him.

―Lisa,‖ Justin kissed her lips. His gaze settled on their daughter now sleeping in a bassinet at her

bedside. ―She‘s beautiful. I‘m…so sorry I wasn‘t here. I‘m sorry I let you walk out without a fuss.‖

She shrugged, resigned. ―It was the fuss that sent me away. We need to talk, Justin.‖ Her voice

wasn‘t unkind, but she hadn‘t been able to hide the finality in the tone. He noticed immediately and
turned back to face her.

―We can work this out. It doesn‘t have to be the end.‖ His voice grew thick, but he didn‘t cry. She

dropped her gaze to his hands clutching hers, not brave enough to face his pain.

―I love you, Justin. I always will. And I know this isn‘t the time or place for this, but I can‘t go

another day without….‖ She struggled to find the words that wouldn‘t destroy this man who‘d been
so good to her, who‘d picked up the pieces of her own shattered heart. ―I love you, but I‘m not in

love with you. I know that sounds clichéd but it‘s the truth, and I don‘t think that will ever change.‖

―I could make it difficult.‖

It was a statement, not necessarily a threat. She should‘ve expected it. Everyone acted immaturely in
the face of theses things. She tried to understand, but cried out at the thought of losing her daughter

or losing Trace.

He continued, ―But I won‘t. It would destroy the friendship I believe we have and can continue to
have. It would hurt our daughter. Lisa; I‘m her father.‖

―I know,‖ she hurried to soothe him. ―And you will continue to be. I want you to be a part of her
life.‖

He nodded and then leaned down to kiss her again. He put his lips to her ear and whispered, ―You
have my heart, no matter what you choose to do with it.‖

When he left after holding and kissing the baby, Lisa was relieved. The emotional strain was more

than she could deal with after giving birth. Before she could feel the loneliness at being apart from
Trace, he returned with a smile on his face fit to tie her around his little finger. She averted her gaze

to hide the vulnerable position she was in and received his kiss with parted lips.

Epilogue

She was doing it again. Nothing big and elaborate, but something intimate among family and a few
friends. It was what she preferred and Trace had done a full one-eighty. He was chomping at the bit

to marry her. She laughed, remembering. She‘d only made him wait a full year after her divorce from
Justin. It was his punishment in a sense and her assurance that he wouldn‘t turn tail.

But her lover had proved himself time and again, by sticking by her side the entire time. He‘d even
developed a sweet second daddy relationship with her daughter. How could she possibly fault him in

anything? No way at all. Lisa could not be happier.

―Ready, Sweetie?‖ Kate whispered over her shoulder.

She nodded, butterflies battling in her stomach. ―Yes, I guess I am.‖

Kate‘s eyes sparked with happiness and calm, ―Now, this is exactly what I hoped for you.‖

Lisa rolled her eyes, ―Was everyone sure of Trace?‖

―Duh!‖

They laughed and Lisa stood to face her future. She knew even as she followed Kate to the lobby to
wait her turn, nothing could have substituted for the man she loved to desperation. In reality, there

was no other choice besides him.

THE END

Author’s Bio

Tressie Lockwood is a new and upcoming author who enjoys writing interracial romance.. Her

works include Dreaming of Luke and Cheating with Randy and part two of Cheating with Randy is in the
planning stages currently. She writes straight from her heart, reaching out to those who find it hard

to be completely themselves, no matter what anyone else thinks.

Also Available From Amira Press

Speed and Need

Robin Wright

The throaty purr of the unassuming black sedan was deceptively quiet for its powerful, aggressive

passage. Silent and impressive just like the relaxed and skillful driver, this vehicle had no chrome to
mar the clean lines. Not just the door handles, but all exterior protrusions were shaved, and there

were no identifying marks or ornamentation. All the lights were blacked out, and the power was
obvious despite the quietness of the sound of the motor. From the outside, there was no way to tell

who was driving this impressive vehicle--it could be anyone behind the tinted glass.

* * * *

Street racing was not what it used to be. In the sunshine state, this new breed of street racers openly

thumbed their noses at safety regulations. They put both the publics‘ welfare and their own on the
line and using a complex method of communication, they always managed to stay one step ahead of

the law. Running cars that, upon first inspection, barely remained street legal were a menace. There
were no minor accidents--if one of the street racers crashed, lives ended with a boom.

Street racing attracted people from all over the United States, and brought in cars from everywhere.
All the racers packed weapons. Some ran drugs, and some ran car theft rings. Retribution was swift

among them, whenever anyone failed to live up to their obligations. The losers paid the winners, and
in so many ways, everyone lost. Street racing often-pitted members of one gang against another and

emotions were always over the top and often menacing.

* * * *

Were one to judge based solely upon appearance, this particular car would appear to be some
new prototype straight out of the design departments in Tokyo, but…no. This was American
muscle, made in Detroit. “Baaaad” was what the plates read, and that was enough to tell the
story, but this time, “Baaaad” was going to be punished.

The blue lights came on, and the officer pulled his cruiser out behind the sedan, thinking that this
street racer was about to get what they deserved. He unconsciously clenched his jaw. He had seen

"Baaaad" before, and he had heard stories about a magnificent woman who was wild and risky in a
race. She was a woman who had no problem with endangering herself and others as she raced this

quietly modified piece of machinery against anyone who was foolish enough to put up their money
or a clean title. Rumor had it she won often, and was the kind of girl no one even regretted losing to.

But this time she had met with the wrong person, and was about to learn a valuable lesson at the
hands of the law.