| Author: | Yuwanda Black | ISBN: | 9781519935014 |
| Publisher: | Inkwell Editorial Publishing | Publication: | November 24, 2015 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Yuwanda Black |
| ISBN: | 9781519935014 |
| Publisher: | Inkwell Editorial Publishing |
| Publication: | November 24, 2015 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
PROLOGUE
Before him was a real woman. She had all the right assets in all the right places, even though her stomach wasn’t exactly flat. It wouldn’t have looked right if it was. It was curvy just like the rest of her. Her curves gave him plenty to hang onto as he made love to her time and time again.
He found himself imagining her pushed up against the concrete wall out in the alley, exploring every crevice of that glorious silky skin as she begged him for more.
Those hips … they’re what set him on fire. He could feel his blood cousing through him as he thought of what it would be like to grab a handful of her lushness.
Could he make her cry out his name, as he had so many?
He could spot a woman who needed some good loving a mile away. There was something in the eyes – a searching, a yearning that was plain to see -- if you knew what to look for. And judging by the look in this beauty’s face, she hadn’t been with a man in a while.
He stubbed out the cigarette he’d been holding, rearranged himself and walked out of the shadow of the darkness. It was time for some answers.
***
Tara entered the doors of the bar and her nostrils were immediately assaulted by the odor of cigarettes and stale alcohol. She was definitely in the right place. Since New York City had banned smoking in public establishments like restaurants and bars years over a decade ago, the fact that this one ignored the rules made it ideal for what she wanted tonight -- some good loving by a no-namestranger she could send on his way when it was done.
She slid onto the torn vinyl of the bar stool. She could feel the scratch of the torn edges on her skin through her tight, black lace dress.
"Whisky. Neat," she said to the burly bartender. She started her hunt there. Bartenders were usually easy targets; they could be sure things because they were used to hooking up with random girls and more than happy to be on their way right after.
***
"I’m Gideon," he said, extending his large hand.
"Tara," she said succinctly.
"So Tara, may I ask what brings you into a dive like this? You know you’re out of place, right?"
"Not for what I want," she said. "You know exactly what I want. That’s why you came over here."
PROLOGUE
Before him was a real woman. She had all the right assets in all the right places, even though her stomach wasn’t exactly flat. It wouldn’t have looked right if it was. It was curvy just like the rest of her. Her curves gave him plenty to hang onto as he made love to her time and time again.
He found himself imagining her pushed up against the concrete wall out in the alley, exploring every crevice of that glorious silky skin as she begged him for more.
Those hips … they’re what set him on fire. He could feel his blood cousing through him as he thought of what it would be like to grab a handful of her lushness.
Could he make her cry out his name, as he had so many?
He could spot a woman who needed some good loving a mile away. There was something in the eyes – a searching, a yearning that was plain to see -- if you knew what to look for. And judging by the look in this beauty’s face, she hadn’t been with a man in a while.
He stubbed out the cigarette he’d been holding, rearranged himself and walked out of the shadow of the darkness. It was time for some answers.
***
Tara entered the doors of the bar and her nostrils were immediately assaulted by the odor of cigarettes and stale alcohol. She was definitely in the right place. Since New York City had banned smoking in public establishments like restaurants and bars years over a decade ago, the fact that this one ignored the rules made it ideal for what she wanted tonight -- some good loving by a no-namestranger she could send on his way when it was done.
She slid onto the torn vinyl of the bar stool. She could feel the scratch of the torn edges on her skin through her tight, black lace dress.
"Whisky. Neat," she said to the burly bartender. She started her hunt there. Bartenders were usually easy targets; they could be sure things because they were used to hooking up with random girls and more than happy to be on their way right after.
***
"I’m Gideon," he said, extending his large hand.
"Tara," she said succinctly.
"So Tara, may I ask what brings you into a dive like this? You know you’re out of place, right?"
"Not for what I want," she said. "You know exactly what I want. That’s why you came over here."
