When the Smoke Clears (Interrac - Kenya Wright

Contents Title Page Copyright Dedication Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chatper 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue Subscribe

By KENYA WRIGHT

When The Smoke Clears This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental. When The Smoke Clears Copyright © 2016 by Kenya Wright Cover Design By: J.N. Sheats Formatting By: J.N. Sheats All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Printed in the United States of America First Printing, 2016

To Eric, My Rustic Hustler Thank you for helping me submerge within the light until we became the sun.

Prologue As

soon as I pointed my gun, my husband pissed himself. And it wasn’t a metaphor. The air stank of urine. Yellow liquid streamed down his designer paints and turned the gray into a charcoal color. “Oh, God! She has a gun!” People in the firm’s boardroom shrieked. Some lifted their hands into the air. Others ducked behind chairs. My husband, Ellis’s fingers shook as he raised his hands. “Kassie, please.” “I gave you ten faithful years and you cheat on me?” I continued to aim at him. A burning pain swelled in my chest. Ten feet lay between us.

You did this. You think you can hurt me like this and everything will be okay? Fuck that. I’m not the one. “Please, Kassie. Don’t do this.” With each bead of sweat on his forehead, tension built around us. “Just put the gun down.” My voice came out hoarse. I’d cried so much I could barely talk. “Fuck you.” My husband was a beautiful black man. When the average woman stared at him, they licked their lips and thought of warm chocolate dripping down their legs and swirling around their thighs. He had the hot body, advanced degrees, bank accounts, and charisma. Plus, he inspired others. He’d survived a broken

home, escaped the trap of poverty, and risen to financial success. Now, Ellis looked like an angel sculpted in chocolate that had begun to melt. Things had gotten hot. Shit would never be the same. Fear bubbled along the sides and his ego liquefied, along with our marriage. I’m so alone. A black cloud weighed down my shoulders. I hunched over, but still kept my target in view. “This is crazy, Kassie.” Ellis stepped toward me. “Think of Richard. What would he think of his mother, if—” “Don’t even say his name!” I waved the gun in front of him. My auburn dreadlocks swung in the air. A

few blocked my right eye. I didn’t even move them and gripped the gun harder. I should’ve put those locs in a ponytail, but I’d been too mad while racing over to his law firm. Crouching behind a chair, Ellis’s senior partner cleared his throat. “Mrs. Jones, please let us help you—” “Shut up!” I glared at Ellis. A woman cried in the corner. Ellis tried to come closer. “No.” I shook my head. “Don’t test me. Stay right there.” His bottom lip quivered. “What are you going to do?” “I’m not sure yet.” “What do you want, Kassie?” “I just want you to hurt. . .so bad.”

I wiped away some tears with the back of my hand. “I just want you to feel as bad as I do. I want you to be scared and feel hopeless and not know what the fuck you’re going to do.” He opened his mouth and had nothing to say as he stared at the gun in front of him. “Do you feel that way now?” I asked. “Yes.” Someone banged on the locked door. I jumped a little. Lucky for Ellis, my finger hadn’t been on the trigger. It’s probably the guards or police. What am I doing? Tears spilled from Ellis’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Please put the gun down. I

love you. I know I cheated this time—” “And the other times. Don’t forget all of the other times.” “And the others,” he whispered. “But. . .I’m just a sick man. It’s an addiction. I can’t help myself because it’s in my genes and—” “I was going to leave it alone.” I said. “I was just going to bow out, when I found the first video of you fucking her. I was going to say, ‘Let’s get a divorce and do a reasonable custody of Richard. I’m done. She can have you.’ It was going to be this peaceful fucking hippy love shit, but then. . .I saw all of the mother fucking videos with you and Sky.” I pointed the gun to my husband’s

secretary, Sky. Earlier, I’d forced her to come in here, when I stormed through the firm’s lobby. Not a dummy, she obliged and rushed me to Ellis’s meeting. “Are you going to hurt me?” Sky lowered to her knees. You don’t get to treat people like shit and run off into the sunset. You fall. You crash. You lose. I blinked through the tears. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to shoot you or not.” “I will never see him again.” She shook her head. “Never. Ever.” “I don’t care.” I spat the words at her. “You disrespected me.” “I’m so sorry.” Her voice screeched at the last word.

“You came to my house. You lay in my bed. And you thought you could do it without hurting anyone.” I gestured to the gun. “That’s why I’m here.” “I-I didn’t think y-you would find out,” Sky mumbled. Ellis tried to step closer and stopped. “Think about our son.” Sky begged, “I-I’m so sorry.” “You’re sorry because you got caught.” I sucked my teeth. “You thought I was soft. Now you see this gun, and you’re regretting it all.” She placed her hands in a prayer position as she kneeled. “I regret everything.” “I may live in big home with a pool and a maid, but I grew up in the

hood and I will splatter your body parts all over this place.” Ellis inched back. “What’s going to happen to our son, if you kill me?” “If I let you go; it’ll teach our son that it’s okay to hurt the woman you’ve dedicated your life to. If I let you go, it’ll show him and other men that’s its fine.” Adrenaline rushed through me. “It would be better, if I go to jail for shooting you. It would be better, if every Miami paper reported the death of a cheating husband and his lover, and that news spread all over the country. You two don’t get a happily ever after.” One of the female lawyers gasped. “Baby, let’s go outside.” Ellis swiped at the sweat dripping down his

face. “I still love you. Let’s . . . let’s go to the counselor like you’ve been asking —” “All of those videos of you making love to her in our house.” The gun heated in my hand. “You fucked her in our son’s room. Who does that? What were you thinking about, while doing that? What type of sick shit went through your head, while you had her in our shower, sticking my loofa up this nasty chick’s behind as if it was cool? And you didn’t even clean it after you were done.” I turned to the other people in the room, cowering in fear. “He didn’t even clean it. Just let me wash with that nasty disease-infected thing for months. Does that make any sense?”

A red headed woman moved her head from side to side. “I know right?” I glanced at the old guy in a blue suit on my right. “There are videos with Sky wearing my makeup, gowns, and shoes, dancing in the video like she’s about to be a star.” “The Lord is my shepherd,” Sky whispered to herself. “He takes care of me. . .” “Oh, great. She’s praying now.” The gun rattled in my hands. “But she wasn’t praying, when she was modeling my stuff and laughing at me in the video.” Sky closed her eyes. “Even when I go through a dark valley facing death. . .”

My pulse sped up, booming in my chest. This moment would change everything in my life. I could pull the trigger right now and end it all. Someone could die—Ellis, Sky, or me. It already felt like the end of the world, everything crashing down. I’d woken up that morning to print out my manuscript. I wrote romance novels and made good money doing it. Last night, I’d finished a first draft. To revise it, I liked to print the story out, letting the plot unfold in black and white. It was all a ritual. I would grab a glass of wine, get a big red pen, lounge by the pool, and revise the three or four hundred papers. I’d been hyped for a morning of

strikethroughs and pinot noir. However, God said no. He broke my printer so I went into my husband’s home office, got on his computer, and boom. Ellis’s home videos. Short and long. With and without music. Threesomes and orgies where he performed as a star with people I’d never seen before. My home was always the setting. Some of the players were even men. One movie had a dwarf man in it, pounding in Ellis from behind. Every time, I drove with Richard to Sarasota to see my mother, Ellis had an erotic adventure, as if he’d been checking off a sex bucket list. And in almost every video, Sky danced and wore my clothes.

And the worse part, Ellis didn’t use a condom. For all I knew, every STD infected my body. Ellis had been my first and only lover. Now I could die from AIDS, because of his escapades. I’d vomited all over his desk. A black sludge filled my heart. I felt so alone, like there was no God and the heavens ran black and empty. The agonizing hand of depression yanked my throat and wouldn’t let go. It dug its cold claws into my flesh. I couldn’t breathe. Pain weighed me down. Sunshine skies transformed into darkened clouds. I had to bow my head, walking outside while holding my gun and readying myself to shoot this motherfucker dead. Anxiety shackled my ankles. Still, I made it to the

car and sped through the streets, cursing his name. Ellis’s voice cracked. “I love you.” “The cheating was only a means to the end. You dragged me down until I was nothing.” My vision blurred through the tears. “You told me I was fat, so I went on diets and ran and tried my best, starving myself.” Only a few feet lay between us. I stepped up closer to him. “You told me I wasn’t a good cook, so I planned meals for days and studied the food network channel.” I targeted the center of his forehead. “You told me I could be better in bed. I should do better as a mom. That

you wished I was more of a sophisticated woman.” “Don’t do it,” Ellis cried. “Don’t kill me, Kassie.” Should I do it? It would feel good. So, good. He hurt me. He didn’t have to, but he did. Images flashed in my head of what could occur. I could pull the trigger and watch the bullet explode from the tip, slice through the air with a boom, and pierce his skull. I could do it. Pain hardened my bones. Resentment swelled in my chest. Rage breathed life into a woman that had been walking around like a zombie in a loveless marriage. I could do it. I could witness his skull crack

from the impact and watch his brain matter explode, splattering all over his whore’s face. I would laugh. Why not? Sometimes, we had to enjoy the dark moments. Sometimes, we had to do more than fall upon our knees and cry. I could make blood rain. I could change another man’s mind, and make him reconsider stepping out on his wife, because of Ellis’s tragic story. Then my son’s face entered my mind, and I knew that I couldn’t carry out my plan of revenge. “You said I wasn’t as beautiful anymore.” Angry tremors ran through me. “And then you turned around, found this human tampon, and brought her into my house.”

“I’m sorry,” Ellis cried. “So sorry.” “I know.” I pointed to his leg, pulled the trigger, and let the bullets fly.

Chapter 1 Kassie One year later

I can’t

believe Richard pulled the fire

alarm. I jogged over to my son’s teacher, Mrs. Thompson. “Where is he?” I asked. Mrs. Thompson pointed to the front of the elementary office. “He’s up there with Lieutenant Hornsby.” Sirens blared all around us. A long line of cars, filled with worried parents, crowded the streets. Two big fire trucks and an ambulance blocked both of the school’s entrances.

“Principal Ziff already talked to Richard,” she said. “Lieutenant Hornsby is now lecturing him.” “Thank you.” I squinted and spotted a huge man towering over my son. Next to my eight-year-old, he looked like a giant. “Who is that?” “Lieutenant Hornsby.” Mrs. Thompson turned away, directing traffic toward the football field. I walked toward them and the Lieutenant looked my way. Fuck. I don’t need this right now. Sensations sparked across my flesh. Horniness ensued. Really? Do you have to be this good looking? Just go away. I had nothing against this guy, but

to me, he was a fire starter. I couldn’t care less that he wore a firefighter uniform. All I knew was that when our gazes met, he set a blaze through my body. Hazel eyes burned every inch of my flesh. Flames rippled. Heat rose. I stumbled and had to catch my breath. He was a fire starter. I walked toward him and my son, Rich. They both had been engrossed in conversation. Then the sexy man looked at me and he no longer concentrated on my son. I now had his attention. Oh, put out a fire or something. I simply didn’t have time for penises. I’d spent most of last year in a mental hospital for shooting my ex-

husband. My writing career had fallen into ruin. My romance novels weren’t selling as well as they used to. I needed to rebuild and start over. I had to focus. I marched forward. Twenty feet lay between us. Tanned skin spread over his muscular arms. His bulging chest stretched out the t-shirt showing his station’s number inside a fire hat. He had black, cropped hair that was tapered with a dose of swag on the sides. He couldn’t have been only one ethnicity. He was composed of a lovely mixture of genes. Maybe, Black and Irish or Japanese and Puerto Rican? Something exotic. He had to be at least

six feet of sex and warm flesh with sensual memories and dark groans as one gripped the bed sheets and prayed that he wouldn’t stop. “Uh oh. That’s my mom.” Rich pointed to me. I ignored the heat in the firefighter’s eyes and the sweetness of his mouth. I don’t have time for this. Instead, I turned to the reason I’d come to the elementary school in the first place. Rich. My son. The one who set off the alarm. The one who triggered hysteria in teachers and students and had fire trucks blocking the entrance. Every parent hoping to pick up their child, now had to

wait in a car line that extended ten blocks away from school. Lieutenant Hornsby kept his eyes on me as I closed the distance, feeling more naked than I already was. The principal’s call had ended my work out early. I wore tiny black shorts that gave my legs freedom to move while I ran, but didn’t hide the fact that I carried a big curve of plumpness behind me. A red athletic top finished the outfit and hid the extra cushion on my tummy. My auburn dreadlocks were gathered in a big ponytail atop my head. I fit in at the gym. But, on school grounds, I felt more like some hip-hop video dancer—ass and titties out to the world, jiggling and bouncing around like

I didn’t have a child and wasn’t over thirty. The firefighter’s hazel eyes drank me in like we were in a nightclub and he was on the prowl. Stop that. I moved to them and glared at my son. “Really?” Rich didn’t look my way. Instead, he ducked behind Mr. Gorgeous. The hottie extended his arm. “You must be Mrs. Jones.” Of course, he has a sexy voice. “I’m Lieutenant Hornsby.” “Nice to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances.” I shook his hand. “I don’t know why Richard would do something like this.”

“Apparently, it was a dare.” The Lieutenant continued to hold my hand. Warm skin heated mine. I tried to pull away. He wouldn’t let me. “Will Mr. Jones be arriving, too?” “Why?” “Department policy says that we explain our volunteering program to both parents, if possible. Is there a Mr. Jones?” “Yes. There is a Mr. Jones.” Unease began building. “We’re divorced.” “How long have you been divorced?” “It’s been a year.” He pulled out a pamphlet, but didn’t hand it to me. “How long were

you married?” “Ten years.” I almost added more, but I’d already said enough. Fire starter frowned. “I’m sorry.” No judgment lay on his face. That eased the tension away from my neck and shoulders. Sometimes, I swore people studied me while I answered questions about my divorce as if they were trying to discover what my problem was. Like they wondered why I couldn’t keep a man. Lieutenant Hornsby didn’t have that expression. Concern etched around his eyes. Slowly, he moved his hand away and kept his gaze on me. “How have you been dealing with everything?” he asked.

Okay. Let’s get off me and back onto my son. I gestured to the pamphlet. “So, about this policy. What is it?” He handed the paper to me. “When a kid pulls a fire alarm, we have them do an hour of volunteer work with us. Nothing big. It’s more for them to learn about our jobs and earn respect for what we do.” “When can Richard start volunteering?” “He’ll need to do an hour at the station within in the next two months.” “In fact, let’s make it two or three Saturdays, if that’s okay.” My son let out a tiny groan. I leaned his way. “Excuse me? Did

you have something to say?” Rich mumbled, “No, ma’am.” I pointed behind me. “Head to the car, please.” “Okay, Mommy.” Rich slung his book bag over his shoulders and scurried away. I stuck the pamphlet in my pocket book. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” “Call me Lorenzo.” He curved those sexy lips into a sweet smile. “What’s your name?” “Kassandra. Everyone calls me Kassie.” He watched Rich run off. “Are you dating anyone?” I frowned. “Excuse me?” “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked

that.” “No, I don’t think so.” “How about this?” He leaned in closer. “Are you interested in dating anyone?” “No. And uh—” “I’ve been divorced for five years. The entire process from separation to full acceptance is one of the hardest things I had to do in my life. In some ways it’s a mourning process.” I stood there, speechless. He continued, “You said you were together for ten years. That’s amazing. But, you feel defeated. Right? Maybe, even lost.” I raised my hands. “Okay, this is getting weird. Thanks for the psychic

reading.” Teachers passed by us. A few of the women glanced his way and giggled. “This is probably inappropriate,” he said. “It is inappropriate,” I said. “And I’m not interested in dating anyone, right now. That’s the farthest thing from my mind.” “Good. It means you’re comfortable with yourself. You don’t mind being alone, while you heal.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure my son had safely gotten into the car. “Yes, Dr. Phil. I’m learning that it’s not so bad to be without a man. Okay. . .so we need to end this conversation.”

“That’s fair. You’re not ready to date, now.” He raised one finger. “But when that moment comes, when you’re ready to dip your toes into the dating pool—” “You want the first stroke?” I crossed my arms. “Yes.” Then he scrunched his face into confusion. “Wait no. Not stroke like sex.” I tossed him a skeptical look. “So you have no intentions of ever having sex with me?” “Well yes, one day, but I would want us to take our time.” “Sure,” I said. “Look, buddy. I’m not interested.” His expression radiated extreme

arrogance. “I get it.” “Cool.” He smiled. “You should still get my number.” “I don’t need it.” “Take it.” He gave me a business car. “One night, you might have a fire that you need to put out.” “Wow. A fire to put out?” I stared at the card. “Does that line actually work with women?” “Always.” “I bet you bring your little hose to douse every lonely woman’s fire.” “It’s not little.” “It would be little when I’m done with it.” I got on my toes, tilted his way, and whispered, “You’re going to want to

put that card back in your pocket. I’m what genius scientists call a crazy bitch. You don’t want to put out my fire. You want to run. And if you ever bring your hose around me, I will chop it off.” That was the moment he was supposed to show disgust and inch back. Instead, he leaned my way and brushed his lips against my ear. My skin tingled. A sensual scent surrounded me. Why must he smell so good? His words lowered into a seductive growl. “Does that usually work?” The word barely left my mouth. “What?” “When you get on your little toes and threaten the guy’s penis, does it

scare him off?” I swallowed. “Yes.” “Good.” He winked at me. “That’s the sort of statement that separates the men from the boys. Keep it up.” “And did that scare you away?” “I’m a man. I’m a mixture of warrior lines. The black part of me knows how to face struggle and still win. The Irish part of me will never give up without a fight.” “And the humble part of you was chewed up and consumed by your big ego?” He had the nerve to crack his neck, like he was stepping up to a challenge. “Take my card. Call me when you need me, and I’m not just talking about my

hose.” I snorted. “Oh, really?” “Really, Mrs. Crazy Woman. I’m talking about offering real help. I have four sisters. I’m the only brother. I’ve seen their struggles with men that didn’t appreciate them. I know what it is to realize, one day, that you’re raising a child, alone.” “Wow.” I nodded. “I bet you bang a lot of divorced women.” The arrogance left his face. “Some guys will see how hot a woman is and run to her fire, only to stop, surmise that the flames are too much, and not save her, but instead, wait for when the smoke clears.” “But you like to run up, take out

your hose, and spray all over the woman’s face?” “You’re good with mixing my words.” He drank me in, again, from head to toe, slipping his gaze all over me. I tried to ignore it, but my flesh ignited and the area around us darkened, spotlighting only him and me. He licked his lips and whispered, “You’re different. I like that. Take my card.” “I won’t be using it, but thanks for the offer. Now, this is where we end the odd conversation outside of my son’s elementary school. Thanks for being professional.” “You're welcome. I’ll see you on Saturday.” “No.” I shook my head. “You’ll

see my son on Saturday.” His jaw twitched. “Nice meeting you, Kassie.” I hated my name on his tongue. It sounded so damn nasty, like he was imagining opening my legs with each syllable. Even worse, my clit jumped a little as if she had nothing better to do. Calm it down. We have a bunch of batteries and awesome sex toys. There’s no need to get excited over warm flesh and muscles. Forget these men. Too bad his voice drummed through me. “Have a good evening, Kassie. I’m glad your son pulled that alarm.”

Chapter 2 Lorenzo Kassie walked away and I hated it. Lust warmed in my groin, making my cock stiff and tingle at the tip. Possibilities flashed through my mind— me inside of her moving to a gentle rhythm. Cupping that lush bottom of hers, spreading the soft cheeks apart, and licking the puckered bud in the center. I bet no one ever did it like that to her. I bet I could teach her many things, make her less angry, less scared. And she was very scared. She had a tough exterior, but she’d been through some shit. I could tell from the way she would barely meet my eyes.

She was turned on, and hated it. Maybe even afraid of it. You’ll have to get over that fear. I shouldn’t have watched her walk away, but how could I not? There was a grace to her movements, and that squeezable behind didn’t help. It should’ve been against the law for her to have those shorts on. If she were mine, we would’ve been in bed as soon as I had spotted her. If she were with me, I’d be answering all the questions that had come to mind, after seeing her. Was she ticklish and where? Was that tough girl performance just an act or was she soft inside? Would she whisper my name in bed? Or would she roar? How did she

moan—long and hard or soft and rhythmic, like a sensual melody? My hormones sparked a whole list of puzzles. Yet, my heart had one single question repeating in my head. How bad did her ex hurt her? My best friend Zorro moved to my side. He’d gotten the name because of his ex-girlfriend. She discovered he’d been cheating with her sister and then posted his nude pictures all over Facebook. The photos hit everyone’s timeline, from long-distance cousins to the Captain of our station. One of the images showed him with a Zorro mask, hat, G-string, and holding a sword. Although we waited for Zorro to get over the heartbreak and stupidity of

losing her, we had some fun with the situation. A few guys made posters of the masked image and plastered them all over the kitchen. The nickname stuck. Later, Captain made us take the posters down, but only after a month of them hanging on the walls. Zorro whistled as he watched Kassie walk away. “You get her number?” “No.” Zorro had a surfer look—blonde hair, blue eyes, and the sort of tan one gets from lounging on the beach all weekend. He whistled again. “Now that’s a good-looking woman.” “Take your eyes off her.” His whistling ended.

Kassie got to her car, and I continued studying that behind. Turn around, baby. You know you want to. She did and I smiled at her. I could’ve sworn a curse came out of her mouth, as she faced the car and got in. Zorro caught the action and commented, “She’s a hot one too. Does she have a sizzling temper to go with those red locks?” “Don’t worry about what she has.” I waved at Kassie and Richard as she drove them off and looked the other way. The red convertible passed by us. Laughing, Zorro ran his fingers through his blond hair. “I don’t think she likes you. We might’ve found the first single mom to block your game.”

“She’s fast with her tongue.” I thought about the other thing she could do with that mouth. “I watched the whole thing. I thought you were going to attack her when she walked up.” “I almost would’ve, if her son hadn't been standing there. A woman’s curves are like kryptonite to me. I’ve never met extra padding that I didn’t want to touch.” “I watched you do that smoldering look. The one that’s a mixture of Zoolander and a bad Fabio book cover.” He did a bad job of holding back his laughter. “And still, she looked as if she didn’t like you, Lou.” Like the others in my company, he

called me Lou, short for lieutenant. “You’re just going to rub it in?” I turned and walked away. “Hey, Lou. You’ve been on a roll since summer. I must’ve seen you grab a number at every job. But not this one. Finally, your streak is over.” “No one’s counting, but you.” “Well, we’re all really counting on you.” “Did you all make another bet again?” “Let’s not focus on that. Let’s discuss that hot moment again. Okay. It could’ve been a scene out of soap opera.” Zorro lifted his hands and swung them around like a conductor. “I heard fucking violins and shit playing. It was

like da-di-da La-di-da. Doves were flying.” He brushed off my shoulders. “I think you have some feathers over here.” “Touch me again and I’m going to break the fingers on your right hand. Which will ruin those special moments you have with yourself?” “So violent.” Zorro backed away. “How can you be such a sexy god in one moment and a mean monster in the other?” “Shut up.” I headed down to our truck. Unfortunately, Zorro followed. “I really was moved by the scene. Magic happened. And your cheeks held a rosy blush.” “You sure you want your shift

covered for Christmas this year?” I raised my eyebrows. “Because if you keep this up, I’m thinking I won’t be able to find a replacement.” “Sorry.” He patted my back. “I mustn’t anger the love bird.” I groaned. “By the way, did you get her number? Because where we were all standing, it didn’t look that way.” “We?” I checked the trucks. Several of my people stood there, as if they’d been watching me the entire time. Knowing my crew, they probably stared at Kassie and my exchange. “Why are you asking?” “It’s just a question,” Zorro said. “So, did you get her number and could you give me some details?”

“Why?” I stopped. “Just wondering.” “Yeah right.” I frowned. “Did you run a bet on whether I could get her number or not?” Zorro winked. “We may have.” “How much did you bet?” “I put down fifty for you getting the digits. I was confident that the look was too smoldering for any regular woman to resist.” “You lost fifty.” I kept on walking. “The look and uniform didn’t work. In fact, she mentioned a knife and my dick in the same sentence.” “Wow. Brent is about to get a payload. He predicted something close to that.”

My frown deepened. “Good for Brent.” “No worries. Maybe you’ll see her again. Sarasota’s a small city.” “She wouldn’t even take my card.” “You tried to give her a business card?” “Yeah.” “This is why you suck at dating and continue causing me to lose these bets. What the fuck is that? It’s not even sexy.” Zorro deepened his voice and did an impression of me, “Here, sexy lady. Take my business card. This is for business, and yet, it is for so much more. Like. . .non-business things. Check out my font. I bet this logo with a fire makes you so hot.”

“Shut up. The card usually works.” “For skanks.” Zorro waved me away. “We’ve had this discussion before. The flame groupies don’t care. They’ll take your number anyway they can. They see us as heroes. Gods of fire. They think we walk around the station all day with bulging muscles and suspendered fire pants, grunting and dripping sweat off of our mountainous pecs.” I cracked my neck. “That’s pretty much a typical Monday for me.” We made it to the truck. Everyone else jumped in and got to their seats. It’d been a long day of car accidents and prank fire alarms. The shift would be over soon. The rest of my crew for this

week, Merck, Kathy, and Proc, hung around the side and tuned in to Zorro. “What’s the answer, man?” Merck called out to us. “We’ve got big money riding this bet.” “He didn’t get the number,” Zorro yelled back. My words dripped with sarcasm. “Can you scream that even louder for me?” Brent cheered. “Yes. She looked too pissed, walking up to you.” “Thanks a lot, Lou.” Kathy dug her hands into her pockets and handed Brent several bills. Everyone else exchanged their money, the losers glaring at me and muttering a couple of jokes on my behalf. I got out of there, before I had to

deal with any more embarrassment. Once everyone got into their vehicles, Zorro and I climbed into our truck. “I want to win future bets.” Zorro put the keys into the ignition. “So, I’m going to give you some advice. You need to do more than hand a woman a business card and the look is outdated.” “You’ve never had a relationship last longer than a month. I bet the business card works.” Zorro honked the horn at two chicks speed walking on the sidewalk. They giggled and waved back. “Eh, what did I tell you about doing that?” “Sorry. They’re too hot not to

celebrate it.” Zorro said. “Okay. So back to the ladies.” “I’m done with it.” I rubbed the tension in my neck. “The whole serial dating thing is getting old.” “Serial dating?” “I’m probably going to start looking for something that’s more than a warm body at night and a wet hole.” “Not the old man talk, again?” “Thirty-five isn’t old, but I’m damn sure thinking more about what I should be doing in life. I don’t know if I need a wife, but I want something more long term.” We pulled onto the main road and took our time heading back to the station. In Sarasota, people drove slowly and

took it easy. Most of the population was comprised of vacationers and retired folks, the rest served them. Sarasota didn’t have the flash and fast pace of Miami, in the south, or provided amusement like Orlando. in the east, but it sat along the west coast of Florida as the number one most visited beach in America. Sarasota had the western Florida Keys—Longboat and Siesta. Both boasted of pure, white sand beaches, smooth like powder under the feet. The ocean waved and sparkled under a gentle sun. There was always an available parking space. Never crowded with too many people. Never loud or obnoxious. Snorkeling spots outlined all

of the keys. Down-home restaurants bordered the rest—from high-end soul food to Ethiopian cuisine. All of my life, I’d lived here and could never move away. We’d just entered September, the beginning of great beach weather and tourist season, lasting from now until May. This fall would be busy. These months would bring European travelers and gypsy beach bums. Art and entertainment also lured people to the city. Classical musicians from all over the world moved here to play in the symphony. Plus, the city had more theaters than most in the state—from the black opera troupes to improv comedy groups. A festival, concert, or major red

carpet event was scheduled for every weekend, and with the liquor and laughing, dancing and romancing, came the fires and our alarms ringing. Then death would come, end the fun, and remind us all of our mortality. Every tourist season brought death, whether car accident or house fire. There was no way of avoiding it. Sometime this fall, I would be carrying another lifeless child out of a fire. Sometime this fall, I would wash that young one’s dead skin off my gloves, inhale the stink of smoke and burning flesh, and watch it all stick to the sink and mingle with the

ashes. Sometime this fall, I would need someone to hold at the end of the night, when the tears poured out and the rage over a child’s death was too much to bear. Last fall, I almost started drinking, again. I almost fell back into my old poisons—one night stands and limitless bottles of beer. I almost lost control and bought a six-pack. I’d come close, but had kept my three years of sobriety intact. Zorro interrupted my thoughts. “Are you going to try and get in touch with this chick through the volunteer form? Maybe get her number from there?”

My head grew fuzzy. “I don’t know.” “That’s not like you. Where’s the usual cocky determination? Hey, maybe you can convince her to be your friend. A little hand job every now and then, just because you both are best buddies?” “I don’t know.” Zorro scratched his head. “What?” An odd feeling of loneliness hit me. It had been doing that more and more. “I don’t know. Maybe I have more to offer a woman than my dick.” A clueless expression covered his face. “You lost me.” “I lost you, because you’re a heartless animal.” “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Zorro cupped one hand around his ear. “I can’t hear you, because I’m swimming in so much pussy these days. Everything is sloshing around. You’ll have to speak louder.” “Idiot.” “So maybe you’ll be just friends with no benefits, huh?” Zorro waved my theory away. “Dumbest idea I’ve heard you say all month.” “That’s the twenties talking.” I patted his head. “You’re a young buck. Wait until you get to the mid-thirties, my friend. You’ll wake up and wonder about your legacy. What would you leave to the world? Kids? Family? Who the hell is going to take care of you or come visit your old behind, when your

penis is shriveled up and you can’t remember your name? You’ll start thinking of the type of person that you want to die with. Who you’ll want to change your adult diapers.” Zorro slow clapped. “That’s the most depressing thing I’ve heard all day.” “Shut up and put your hands back on the wheel.” I tried to brighten my mood, but nothing much helped. The exchange with Kassie shouldn’t have meant anything to me. She was just another beautiful woman. Granted, the first one in a while, that had told me no so adamantly, but it shouldn’t have bothered me this much.

Chapter 3 Kassie The next morning, I hung upside down on an inversion table. Fuck you, writer’s block! Apparently, the act of dangling from my feet would rush the creative juices down to my head and trigger the words to flow. The author of the The Da Vinci Code raved about the table in several articles. He claimed it knocked out his writer’s block. It was damn sure worth a try. Who had the time to cry at their computer screen? Besides, I’d already done that for three months. These months were for rebuilding. Today, I will write! I can just feel

it. After taking Rich to school, I returned and strapped myself onto this rotating board with leather bedding. The equipment could’ve been sold in a sex shop. It looked so odd. I couldn’t imagine any other use for it besides sex or the stupidity of hoping to hang upside down. Once buckled in, I used my weight and gravity to rotate all the way over so that my head lowered to the ground and my toes pointed into the air. Already I regretted it. I think I’m going to throw up. While blood did rush to my skull, my stomach and other organs dropped too. Come on, inspiration. I’m ready.

So far, the only thing that happened was dizziness and watering eyes. Blood surged to my dome. My focus warped into a fuzzy point-of-view, everything turned the wrong way. The ceiling was the floor. The carpet and furniture hovered above my head. I’d had a big breakfast and my stomach dropped down to my throat. Food threatened to come heave from my mouth— eggs, bacon, and all. And. . .now, I know I’ve lost it. What the hell am I doing? Another minute passed and I teetered on the edge of passing out. “This might be the dumbest thing I’ve tried, yet. I’m getting out of this.” I swung my arms around. At first, no

movement occurred, and then the board and I lifted up and down, swinging back and forth and dizzying me even more. My stomach grumbled. Fuck! How do I get this thing back up?! I swung some more, rocking my hips, and moving my head back and forth until finally, the damn thing tipped over to the side. No! The sex trap and I crashed to the floor. The pain! Once I screamed like a baby, unbuckled myself, and kicked the contraption several times, pain penetrated my head. I might’ve even broken a toe. Fine. I’m hurt, but maybe it worked. I stumbled to the computer.

Determination pulsed in my heart. I’m going to write, this time! I had a sense that I’d gotten my mojo back. The magic. The thrill. That sensation of a book pouring from my fingers. The electrical craving to sit down for hours and write until my hands grew numb and my behind and legs ached to stand had returned. Back when I’d been married, my only problem had been to find the time to get all of the sentences down. Now, I had the time, but no words. Nothing but blank white screen. “I got this.” I limped over to my desk, sat down, focused on my computer, and placed my hands over the keys. “I’m back, baby. I can feel it.”

Then my brain ran blank, my fingers went numb and I typed absolutely nothing. Twenty minutes passed. I couldn’t even come up with a title. Every idea failed me. I wallowed in disappointment. My mind was a constant, churning sludge of inactivity. An hour went by and I sat at the computer, trying to form something together, but nothing would come. Somehow the words couldn’t connect. I got pretty close to completing a sentence, but then I began rewriting it, repeatedly. First, I battled with point of view. Should I tell the story in first? What about third? Nothing sparked my interest. I

shifted my attention to the main character. Who would it be and what was their goal? Man? Woman? Weird being? Maybe, I should make it an object, like a tree. Maybe a tree watches the love affair unfold. No. That’s fucking stupid. Why would a tree care about two dumb ass humans humping against it? Nothing filled my head. I moved on to other elements. What about theme? What do I want this story to say? Hmmm. What’s something I learned recently? Hmmmm. Men are pieces of shit that can burn in the flames of hell. Hmmmm. Not a good theme for a romance at all. Hmmmm.

What do I want to say with this book? Nothing. I had nothing to say. My life had crumbled into shambles. What the fuck did I have to say to anybody? My real life story was a cliché—broken woman shattered by a sick man. People had heard that before. I’d learned nothing from the situation. I’d shot my ex-husband in the leg three times. They’d rushed him to the hospital and arrested me. However, I used to be a lawyer, so I had a friend get me a sweet deal. There’d been no reason to scream non-guilty. At least ten people, at his law firm, witnessed the shooting. So, my legal team and I took the obvious route. Insanity. There was no

denying that I’d lost it. I figured I might as well own it and get some help. I served a month in jail and then eleven months in a mental facility. The entire time my ex, Ellis, pawned our son off to my mother in Sarasota. By herself, Mom took Rich back and forth to school, attended his events, and pretty much raised him full-time. Ellis only visited Rich one or two times a month. That bastard never stepped up. Our boy sat with his grandmother, confused and alone. We ruined our son’s life. One day, Rich had been in a large home in Miami with two loving parents. The next day, he sat in my mother’s apartment in a new city and at a strange school. Ellis could’ve done

more. My ex-husband’s lack of action made it even easier for me to get over him. Not only had he broke my heart, he’d hurt our son. When my sentence at the crazy bin ended, I vowed to get out, be better, and do right by Rich. I’d been free for only a month. Though, not a fan of Sarasota, I moved up here to keep Rich in the same school he’d been in last year. He needed balance. Things needed to remain the same for a little bit, before I decided my next move. I just need to get my writing back so I could pay the bills. I hadn’t seen Ellis since the courtroom. So far, my ex hadn’t called,

visited my son, or sent a check. The douche bag will call soon. Let’s just hope Rich doesn’t continue to get hurt in the process. He keeps breaking my baby’s heart, and I might have to shoot his ass one more time. And, this time, I will aim for the heart. I stared at the blank screen. I’ve lost it, and I can’t get it back. “Fuck!” I hit the desk. “That stupid inversion table cost three hundred dollars and I couldn’t even get three words out.” Why am I even doing this? Maybe I should give up. Maybe writing isn’t for me. Maybe I should get a 9 to 6 and just. . .oh shut up. Maybe I should just figure this out and stop doubting myself

so much. “On to the next experiment.” I got up from my desk and paced in front of my home office’s doorway for several minutes. “I’m not going to let this writer’s block bullshit ruin me. Not going to happen. I’ll figure it out. I always do.” But, nothing had worked. For the past four weeks, I’d tried it all— researching the writing habits of famous authors and reading the bios of amazing artists. I had tested out all of their methods. One famous literary author used to beat himself for twenty minutes before he wrote. He claimed it opened up all of his senses and made him describe

settings better than before. I’d bought a whip and hit my back several times, only to scream out like a mad woman, cry, and bitch about the tiny marks the rest of the week. I discovered more idiotic techniques to get rid of writer’s block and tried them—meditating at sunset invoking mythological muses with prayed-over candles, and cutting out lines of newspapers and gluing them to a paper, creating a collage to come up with an inspiring story. None of those things worked. I couldn’t find a story. All inspiration had abandoned me. Now, this wasn’t working either Okay. It’s lunch now; soon I’ll be

grabbing Rich from school. I only have time for one more experiment. Last week, I’d ordered a huge box, close to five feet high and four feet wide. A psychologist claimed that artists should get inside of an actual box, stand in the darkness, think about what they’re going to create, and then minute by minute, slowly tear through the box. This was supposed to trigger inspiration. Let’s do this. I placed the big box in the center of the floor, lifted it, got inside, and felt stupid as hell. Darkness enclosed me. Not one romantic storyline came to mind. Only a horror tale of a serial killer sitting in a home office, behind a weird author as she hid in a huge box.

So, I don’t have a story, but maybe the ripping away of the board will make something come. “Yes.” I rubbed my hands together. “Time to break through the box and break through the block.” An hour later, cardboard pieces scattered the ground, writer’s block still seized my passion, and my phone buzzed. “Great.” Pissed, I walked over the torn pieces. “That’s all I need is more distractions.” Samantha’s name lit up the screen. I groaned. She was my best friend and sister-in-law. Even though her brother and I didn’t work out, she refused to let me go, and I would’ve killed her if she

had. However, that wasn’t why I groaned. Samantha was also my literary agent and slave master. I picked up the phone. “Hello.” “How’s your writing?” She asked the question that she always did, every week. “Have you started anything? What did you work on?” “Nothing yet." “Nothing at all?” “No.” “You need help, Kassie.” “I’m actually trying some things to get over the writer’s block.” “Oh, God. What are you doing, now? You didn’t hold another séance with a chicken in your back yard, again,

did you?” “No. Today, I hung upside down and then sat in a huge box and ripped it apart.” Sarcasm dripped from her tongue. “Well, that’s just awesome. That doesn’t make me question your sanity, at all.” “Jokes on you. I’ve been in a mental hospital for close to a year. If you haven’t realized I’m crazy, then I’m now questioning your sanity.” “You should talk to someone about this writer’s block.” “I talked to people all last year. I’m done with head doctors. Besides, my next experiment is to submerge myself into a tub full of ice. I’ve got about ten bags.”

“I don’t have a response for that, but at least you’re not trolling the internet.” “Kassie, you need me to step in and help.” “I don’t need your help.” I entered the kitchen of my new place. In my old house, I had granite counter tops complementing cashmere slate floors, a matching island with full grill, and an elegant backsplash of turquoise tiles. It was a beautiful kitchen —breakfast bar, solid maple cabinets with pull-out shelves, and built-in speakers outlining a small TV in the wall. Now, my new kitchen could fit into my old one, and there would still be

space left to run around. The new place had a rusty sink, old microwave, ticking fridge, and stained oven. The counter was linoleum or something white with golden specks that cracked on the edges. When I turned on the faucet, loud buzzing sounded. In that moment, the noise filled the apartment, as I washed out a glass. “I’m not really sure what you’re going to live on. You have a couple royalty checks, but sales are going down.” “Stop stressing me out.” I opened the freezer and stared at a tub of ice cream. “I’ll be writing, soon.” “Look. My brother is a creep and douche bag for cheating on you. If I

could legally disown him, I would. However, it’s been a year, and although you have a right to be sad still and broken hearted, you do not have the right to stop creating stories that makes us money. Write me something that I can sell.” I grabbed the chocolate mint chunk from the freezer and headed for the drawer to grab a spoon. “Well. . . I have been working on this one story, but you won’t like it and neither will my fans. I stopped at the fifth chapter and didn’t write anymore.” Her voice brightened. “Oh, really? Let me be the judge. What is it about?” Spoon in hand, I headed back to my tiny office. “This guy dies every

night in really cruel ways.” “Okay?” “Each chapter he wakes up in the morning and by the end of the chapter, boom. He’s dead.” “O-kay.” Hope left her voice. “And the heroine? Is she smart, pretty, and in need of love?” “There is no heroine yet.” “Alrighty.” She sighed. “We’ll work on that later. Let’s get back to the hero. Why is he dying every chapter and coming back to life?” “He’s not going to fall in love with anybody. I’m thinking he’ll kill himself. Oh, god but there’s this great scene where he puts his dick into a blender and —”

“Yeah. How about you put that work of art to the side or maybe throw it away in a place where no one will ever read that.” “You don’t like it?” I stuffed my mouth with cold chocolate yumminess. “It’s not romance and you’re a bestselling romance author. You need two people to fall in love. Then, the relationship conflict. And of course, the happily ever after.” “Fuck a happily ever after.” I spooned some ice cream and piled more into my mouth. “I’m thinking, maybe, I should get into horror.” She shrieked. “I didn’t hear that. You did not say the h-word.” “Maybe, it will be fun.”

“You spent five years building an amazing platform among romance readers and you want to switch to blender dick stories that disgust people?” “It’s just a thought.” “You need to write about love!” I mumbled between bites, “Yes, ma’am.” “I’m sending over Mama Ganga.” “I don’t know who this Mama Ganga is. Don’t send crazy people over to my house.” “Mama Ganga isn’t crazy,” Sam said. “She’s just eccentric and has counseled several top authors, artists, and singers on breaking out of their mental jails and finding inspiration.”

“Blah.” “I’m flying her down and paying for the hotel. This will be coming out of your expenses, by the way. I’ll email you her details.” “Look, Sam. Do not send Mother Ganja down here.” “It’s Mama Ganga. Not Ganja.” “What?” “Gan-Gaa.” “With that name, she better have some ganja on her,” I huffed. “Don’t send her down here.” “She’s coming.” “She’s not.” “Trust me. She is,” Sam said. “And how’s my nephew?” I set the carton down, caught her up

on Rich’s latest problem, and even gave her a few details about the fireman. “I’ll call my nephew tonight and talk to him.” Then Sam’s voice brightened. “But on another note, did you say firefighters?” “Yes.” “Hot ones?” she asked. “Yes. Of course. Big arms and pretty eyes. Whatever.” “Write a fire fighter romance!” “Oh, please. It’s cliché.” “It’s not cliché.” “It’s been over used.” “Oh, really?” she asked. “When’s the last time you read a new firefighter romance?” “I’ve only been reading self-help

books.” “Dear God. You’ve stopped reading romance? I think I just vomited in my mouth.” “You represent nonfiction authors. How do you not like the category?” “You’re a horrible influence. Here I am trying to better myself and you’re like, ‘No girl, that’s stupid. Read erotica.’” “At least read romance.” “Fuck romance.” “I’m hanging up now so I don’t disown you.” “Well then, good day.” Smiling, I shut the phone off and thought back to one of the reoccurring arguments my ex and I would have. I’d been trying to get

rid of the old memories, but they continued to come back, over and over, hardening my heart and making me hate my life even more. “You’ve gotten too big.” Ellis packed his bags for another one of his business trips. “When we married, you were skinny and fit. Now, you’re leaning toward obesity.” “Leaning toward obesity? I’m not even a size ten.” I followed him into our walk-in closet. “I just have a tummy and some extra thickness here and there.” “You have dimples on your ass, behind, and thighs.” “I’m working out.” “You sit around and write more

than run.” I placed my hands on my hips. “Yeah. But you don’t complain, when the royalty checks come in.” “You used to be in shape.” He gestured to my stomach. “I didn’t sign up for this.” “First of all, asshole. That was ten years ago, and you’re not skinny anymore, either. Maybe you should look in the mirror.” “I’m a guy,” he yelled back. “I can take on a few extra pounds.” “When’s the last time you’ve seen your dick? Trust me, buddy, going down on you has been difficult. You want your balls sucked, but half the time I can’t find them through the fat.”

He slammed the suitcase closed and hissed, “This is why I can’t be around you. You’re a bitch.” “I’m a bitch!?” I hit my chest. “You think I’m going to sit here and let you talk to me that way, as hard as I work? Writing and taking care of our son and dealing with this entire house stuff—” “Congratulations. You’ve finally decided to be a real wife.” He loudly clapped. “All you do is sit on your fat ass and write stupid books about frilly fantasy guys doing everything for women who don’t even deserve it.” “You’ve never even read any of them!” He raised his hands in the air.

“Oh, not this again!” “Thirty-five books and you haven’t at least opened up one and scanned the first chapter.” “And why would I, when each day with you is a horror story waiting to be written?” I pushed that stupid memory out of my head. One of the best parts about not being with a douche bag was the silence. I didn’t have to hear the cruelty or argue about my insignificant position in his life. I didn’t have to care, anymore or try to be something more for them. Everybody figured I swam in broken heartedness. I didn’t. I’d been done with my ex years

before we separated. I’d read enough self-help books to get what my problem was. I was a survivor of abuse. Ellis had never hit me with his hands, but he’d pounded my guts with his words. He had me thinking I wasn’t deserving of anything more than him. He had me questioning my image in the mirror, thinking I wasn’t beautiful. My brain and heart held scars. A black haze surrounded me, and day-by-day, I was waving the stuff away to see life clearer. I hoped the healing would just take time, and not remain permanently. I headed into the bedroom, set the empty tub on the dresser, and took off my clothes. Everything left me—wrinkled

shirt, misshapen bra, stretched out undies, and jogging pants. It all fell to the floor. Every day, I tried to get my writing back, but I also had another routine. On my mirror, I’d taped three sentences at the top. I am beautiful, right now. I am worthy. I am love. I stared at those words and whispered them to myself, repeatedly, as I drank my image in. My stomach had seen better days. At one time, it was flat and something to nibble. Now, it hung over, hiding the cesarean scar from Rich’s birth. Ellis stopped touching my midsection, after

the delivery. He found the scar hideous and the barely visible stretch marks disgusting. But, since leaving him, my eyes cleared and whenever I looked at my stomach, I saw love and beautiful memories. The night I had Rich, I’d been so scared. It was an emergency C-section. The doctor told me my baby’s heartbeat was erratic. It crushed me. Every part of my body shook in fear. For six months, I’d sing melodies to him and rubbed my swollen belly, and now I’d never get to meet this wonderful gift. The doctors rushed me in. Ellis hurried to get in his scrubs and held my hand the whole time. We cried and

prayed together. The curtain separated my lower half. I couldn’t see what was going on. They’d numbed me. I could only feel pressure and tugging in my abdomen. The scent of blood filled the air. My pulse sped and the nurse kept telling me, repeatedly, to breathe. Tears spilled out of my eyes and I swear I didn’t exhale until I heard Rich’s shrilly cry. My son ended up healthy and never having any other problems. Ellis had made me feel ashamed of my scar, when I should’ve been happy. I looked at myself and touched the scar. “I am beautiful, right now.” My breasts sagged a little, but not much. Even Ellis had drooled, slipping

them out my bra. I bet any man would drool, too. If I ever let one around me again, which I didn’t think I would. Although my mid-section was no longer tight and firm, I had a lovely hourglass shape—a bounce in my breasts and sharp curve in my hips. My skin glowed rich and brown. I was fucking gorgeous! “I’ll never let another man make me think I’m ugly again.” I turned around and glanced over my shoulder at my plump ass. “I am worthy of love and success. I’m a good mom. I’m a good writer. I’m a good person, and any man or woman who doesn’t see that, can go fuck themselves.” I finished my ritual and headed for

the office. Read a romance book, Sam says. Fine. I’ll see what’s going on out there in the market.

Chapter 4 Lorenzo Kassie never strayed from my mind. I didn’t do well with rejection, especially when it came from such a curvy woman, like her. I would’ve enjoyed sulking in my bed like a big ass baby, but tonight, there was not time to rest, even at three a.m. Sirens blared. We ripped through the streets and flashed our lights. Cars moved out of the way. Zorro weaved in and out of traffic with full concentration. No jokes. No smart remarks. Comedy didn’t come until after the smoke cleared and everybody was safe and out of harm’s way.

Dear, God. It’s me again. Please, let this be a routine fire. Nothing too much to handle. No one gets hurt. Moonlit clouds painted the dark sky. Although low on sleep, I was thankful that the job didn’t have us out in the blazing sun. Geared up in the Sarasota heat was no joke. The helmets made me sweat. It was why I kept my head shaved. The bulky coats, bunker boots, and air tanks added so much weight to the body and damn near drowned me in heat exhaustion. We called our uniforms ‘turnout gear’ because we kept our pants in the boots and turned inside out when not in use. It gave us the ability to jump in everything within seconds and speed out

of the station. We had to be dressed in a minute. I’d just finished strapping on everything in the truck, right as we pulled out. Merck sat behind me and opened his iPad. When he first was transferred, the redheaded cowboy and I hadn’t gotten along. His bushy sideburns lined his face like long strips of fire. His mustache extended several inches below his top lip. I didn’t know what his people were thinking at his station, but I didn’t play that. With that facial hair, his self-contained breathing apparatus, or SCBA, would never gain a proper seal. We battled for weeks, but in the end, I won. There wasn’t much I put my foot

down about, but when it meant not having to watch my men die, I battled to the end. “Merck, do you have the blue print up yet?” I asked. “Almost.” I didn’t like almost. He knew it and sped up his typing on the iPad in front of him. For the guys, at Station 8 in downtown Sarasota, and me our reactions had to be quick and precise. I barked at him, “I want the blueprints before we hit the job.” We arrived, two blocks later. Clouds of thick smoke hovered over the Grooving Alligator nightclub. A crowd of people hung outside, dressed for a party. Several cops had been motioning

them to go across the street. Station 9’s fire truck had already parked in front. I recognized most of the guys connecting the hose to the hydrant. Flames had already engulfed part of the front. The truck stopped. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I hopped off, grabbed my oxygen tank from the side of the truck, secured it onto my back, and then seized my ax and Halligan bar. “Merck, what you got?” I headed to the back. More sirens blared. Two ambulances and several police cars appeared on the scene. Geared up, Merck had the blueprints of the club on his iPad screen. Station 9 had already hooked the hose and now, began the exterior attack,

spraying down the front so it wouldn’t spread. “Tell me something.” “The building is one level,” Merck said. “There are five rooms, but they’re large open spaces. A bar is on the side. That was where the fire began.” “Lit cigarette?” I asked. “No, some asshole bartender tried to make a Bailey’s Comet. Did four of them and knocked two over.” “Never heard of the drink. What else?” “He’s fine and just has burns on his legs.” Merck showed me the screen. “There are two bathrooms and an office in the back.” Susan came to my side, geared up and ready. “Manager said he thinks the

building is clear.” “Thinks? That’s not good enough. Someone could still be in there.” I jogged off, crew following. I yelled over my shoulder, “Merck, have Engine 18 keep the ladders ready in case we need to get on the roof. Susan, get your group in the back. I’m going to do search and rescue through the front and work myself to you.” Not waiting for a response, I kept it moving. Two of my guys rushed behind me. Black smoke billowed out the front door. We entered the club in less than a minute, trekking through the heat and burning space. Even with my jacket on, my skin warmed from the high

temperatures. The heat nibbled, but couldn’t get through the gear. I said through the radio attached to my mask. “Keep your gear tight and SCBA secure.” Hot darkness swallowed us whole, where the heat didn’t strike, black smoke did, rising and thickening the shadows. Debris fell around us. Flames roared like angry dragons on our sides. I gripped my ax harder and moved past it, searching the floor for any club patron with dumb luck. “It’s clear on the dance floor.” Part of the ceiling cracked above my head. “Back up!” We jumped back fast. Half of the ceiling caved in.

“Everybody okay?” I roared. They all responded and I counted each yes. Thank God. Checking from side to side, I rushed over to the DJ booth. “Nothing but melting equipment in the back. Let’s move on.” Shit boomed on our right, probably the ripping away of a ceiling or the crumbling of the foundation. Our father who art in heaven. I weaved through the rooms with quick speed. My guys—men and women who’d served the public and been a family to me for many years—they followed behind me. Hallowed be thy name. I’d lost people before. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be

done. They were mothers and fathers, daughters and sons. If I lost anymore, I wouldn’t be able to cope. On earth as it is in Heaven. A crack boomed through the building. The entire structure rocked. My bottom lip quivered as more adrenaline pumped through me. Give us this day. Our daily bread. “Speed it up.” I rounded the corner barely able to see. “John John and Kathy take the rooms on the east and then get the fuck out of here. Merck come with me for the west. Everyone else go through the center and out the back.” Kathy spoke into her mic. “Lou, what about the bathrooms?”

“Merck and I got them. Check for people and get out.” Her radio crackled a little. “Okay.” Continuing the prayer in my head, Merck and I did our search and rescue, yelling through the smoke with each step. “Sarasota Fire. Call out! Anyone in here? Call out!” We moved quickly and precisely, checking the floors and squinting through the smoke. I couldn’t see him, but heard his footsteps far behind me, among the crackling of wood and roar of flames. “Clear?” I asked. “Clear.” “Okay. Let’s do the bathrooms and we’re out of here.” I sighed and hoped

no one heard it. The property was old. I didn’t know how strong it would hold up under fire. Lord, thank you for getting us this far. Merck followed behind me. “I can’t believe you’ve never heard of a Bailey’s Comet.” “What the fuck is that anyway?” “Bailey’s Irish Cream, butterscotch schnapps, goldschlager, rum, and a dash of cinnamon.” “And fire?” I glanced behind me and didn’t see him. He must’ve gone in the male bathroom. I went back to heading my way. Sweat coated my whole face. Everywhere burned and hissed. Things snapped around me and I

prayed it wasn’t the walls or foundation. “Yeah. It needs some fire,” Merck said through the radio. “You mix the Irish cream, schnapps, and schlager together. Put a layer of rum on top and set it on fire. When I was a bartender, I used to sprinkle some cinnamon on the flame to make it sparkle.” “Maybe this guy used too much cinnamon.” “Maybe the guy is an idiot,” Merck said. “Male bathroom is clear, by the way.” “Good. I’m just getting over to the female’s room.” I reached a glowing, silver door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. “Sarasota Fire. Call out! Anyone in here? Call out!”

No one responded. I said into the radio, “We should have switched rooms. This one is disgusting.” “I’m shocked,” Merck said. “Women are usually neat.” “Never. Trust me. I grew up with four sisters. They’re worse than men.” Thankfully, flames hadn’t spread to this space, yet. Still, smoke filled the room. I flashed the light around the floor covered in wet toilet paper and a few bloodied pads. One of the toilets had over run and spilled out murky water. Someone coughed, several times. I followed the sound to the last stall. “Someone’s in here.” “I’m coming,” Merck said.

Right as I opened the stall door, Merck pounded in behind me. A woman lay in a tiny dress on the floor. Besides the coughing, it didn’t look like she was completely conscious. Her eyes had a glassy appearance. She didn’t move. I lowered myself to the floor and picked her up. She moved a little and groaned. “You need help picking her up?” Merck asked. “Naw.” I grunted. “She’s barely a hundred pounds.” “Show off. She’s closer to two hundred pounds.” I ripped my mask off and shoved it over her face. “Breathe! Can you hear me?”

Her eyes blinked a little. “Take small breaths. Come on.” I carried her out of the bathroom, coughing myself and damn near close to suffocating. Without the mask, my skin dripped in soot and sweat. It felt like I’d stuck my head into boiling water. Shit. You got it. Come on. Don’t be a dumb fuck. Pick up those feet. Pressure built in my lungs. The girl’s weight bore down in my arms, but I had no time to think of it. More ceiling crashed in front of us. Damn it. Merck jumped ahead of me and axed through it all. What he couldn’t tear down with the ax, he destroyed with the Halligan bar. He waved me forward and

the girl shivered in my arms, telling me that she’d possibly been doing better. If she was scared, then she was alive. Pain shot through my legs, but I increased my space. We rounded the corner with Merck serving as the guide. When he pushed the door opened, I shifted my walking into running and gasped in the fresh air. An EMT met me halfway with a board to carry her. Every part of me hoped to collapse right there on the ground. My legs were strained. My arms ached. My lungs felt like they were about to explode. I focused on my breaths as they took away the woman. More fighters rushed by to finish the job. No one died.

My whole group got in and out, and we’d even saved someone. I turned around and calmed my chest. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory. Forever and ever. People dealt with things every year. Maybe each month, week, or day. Some lost loved ones. Others killed. Many attacked, maimed, or hurt another and walked away as the victims lay bloodied on the ground, destroyed, and broken. Shit happened to everyone. But I believed in something greater than myself. A power that hovered above, watching and stepping in to save me, when it was necessary. Or maybe it was a force that had a plan I could never

understand. Things occurred right on schedule as we all stumbled around and tried to make sense of our lives. That power. That being. That energy that couldn’t be explained. It had saved all of our asses one more night, and for that, I would gladly go on my knees in front of everyone and praise its name. Thank you. I hadn’t expected a real fire this week. This fall had been uneventful, but tourist season had come and things were starting to happen. Many things. Kassie came to mind, again. Her snappy remarks had kept me on my toes. Those curves incited nasty things in my head.

Even after a fire and I’ve saved someone, I’m fucking picturing her face.

Chapter 5 Kassie The next day, my phone’s buzzing woke me up. I checked the screen. Ellis: Have Rich call me, when he gets home from school. Really? I don’t hear from you in several months and now you demand me to have my son call you? How about you call him after school, douche bag. Regardless, I made a note to make sure I gave Rich the phone. In the end, it was more important for him to have some relationship with his dad, even if the man was the scum of the earth.

Later that morning, a knock came at my door. Yawning, I headed that way. I’d just returned home from dropping Rich off at school and hadn’t even made my large cup of coffee, yet. Whoever it is, they had better make it quick. I haven’t had my coffee, so my filter is nonexistent! I peered through an eyehole. Who the hell is this? An old black woman stood on the other side. She was a short thing with a tiny frame. She had dreadlocks like me, but hers lay in long gray ropes that covered her tiny shoulders and reached her knees. She must’ve been growing those since birth. She wore all black with a huge, midnight colored shawl.

Her sandals were the shade of coal and even her long nails glowed like the night. However, the eyes held my attention, most. They were bright gray and big. She had cat eyes, minus the slits. The gray moved between her lids in a haunting way. Cold slithered up my spine. I turned away from her eyes and checked out the rest of her. Wrinkles graced a kind face, but the heavy wooden cane that she leaned upon appeared more like a weapon than her support. “Who is it?” I asked through the door. As if she could see me through the wood, she stared right at me. Her voice was a throaty boom. “I’m Mama Ganga.

Open up the door, child. We don’t have all day.” Samantha, I’m going to kick your ass. You were fucking serious! You sent a weird lady to my house! “Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath and opened the door. “Hello.” Instead of reaching her hand out to me or waving, she studied my face and then, moved on to the rest of me. Her eyes looked from my feet to my head and then back down to my feet. An odd fragrance came from her. It reminded me of a high-end brand of cloves—earthy, spicy, yet slightly sweet. The moment gave me time to check out her cane. With a closer look, I realized that the rest of the cane was

wood, but the handle was silver. That’s beautiful. As it shined and glittered in the sunlight, I noticed odd figures carved into the mahogany wood. Demons roared at the tip, as if they’d been battling for their life to get out. Some of their claws tore out of the wood in onyx sharp points. Their beastly arms entangled with legs and other screaming faces. Layers of flames sliced their fingertips. Even though I knew it was a solid object, the fire seemed to sway back and forth as if it were alive. “That’s a beautiful cane,” I said. “You’ve got a good soul,” she said, “But you’re all types of broken. I can smell the fear coming off you, like you haven’t washed in days.”

I opened my mouth, but didn’t say anything. How did one respond to a statement like that? She can smell fear? Stop it. Let’s just rein back the crazy and get to some exercises or something. “I don’t do writing exercises,” she said. I tensed. Did she hear that? No. I’m crazy, but not truly insane. It would make sense for her to start discussing writing exercises. Right? Mama Ganga spit a brown glob of saliva onto my porch. “Are you going to sit inside your head or are you going to work with me to begin writing again?” “Are you chewing tobacco?”

She nodded. “Don’t worry about that spot right there. It’ll be gone by the time we leave.” “We’re leaving?” I asked. “Yeah. Put on your shoes. We don’t have much time.” I’m not going anywhere with this weirdo. Mama Ganga pointed her finger at me. “You’ll go or I’ll make you.” Fuck. She can hear my thoughts. I couldn’t move or even speak. “No wonder you aren’t writing,” she said. “You’re too busy standing there and studying everything around you, instead of doing something. Put some sneakers on and come. You’ve got ten minutes.”

“Uh.” I backed up and headed to my bedroom without closing the front door. I did not intend to put on my shoes. Every part of me had decided to call Sam and curse her out. Then, that familiar ache appeared in my gut. It screamed that I wanted to write again, that maybe this weird lady had the answer. What’s the most I have to do, besides put on my shoes and go somewhere with her? Instead of grabbing my phone to call Sam, I picked up my sneakers. If I can hang upside down and sit in a box, I can go with some creative expert to wherever. Maybe we’ll go to an art gallery or museum. Perhaps,

she’ll actually help me. I met Mama Ganga back at the front of my house. As she said, the glob of tobacco spit had disappeared. “Come.” She waved her cane at a hot pink convertible in front. “You take your car and I’ll take mine. You follow me.” “That’s your convertible?” I asked. “No, it’s a rental. But the style is mine.” “So you’re big on pink?” The little woman said nothing else as she waddled to her car. Her long dreadlocks swung around her tiny body. “Hurry, before the water gets cold.” “What water?” I rushed to my own vehicle and pulled out the keys.

Mama Ganga spoke no more words, climbed into her convertible, started it, and sped off without waiting for me to pull out. “Awesome. The old lady’s a racecar driver. I owe you one, Sam. You’re so going to get it.” After a good ten minutes of speeding through Sarasota’s lazy streets and swerving in and out of lanes, we arrived at Siesta Key. Miles of white powdered sand greeted my eyes. Water flowed crystal blue. Sea gulls and other birds squawked and soared above in a perfect sky. Pale blue winds moved among sun-tipped clouds. Salt clung to the cool breeze. Damn. I must come out here more

often. Usually, I went to the public part of the beach. This side had to be private access. There were no sidewalks or parking spaces, only huge residential homes and vacant sand. Mini-mansions made up most of the block. Mama Ganga had parked in one of the driveways, making me think that she knew the owner and might have been staying there during her visit. How does she know these people? Unlike the public part of Siesta Key, no one walked the beach here. Only a few yachts cruised by. No footprints decorated the sand. It all appeared untouched and smooth. Mama Ganga joined me at my side.

“Beautiful day. Isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Are you ready to swim?” I raised my eyebrows and gestured to my jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. “I don’t have anything to swim in.” “You were born in a birthday suit.” I opened my mouth and again, said nothing. “Take off your clothes.” I placed my hands on my hips. “You’re crazy.” “Have you ever heard of Salena Gothmere?” “Of course. She won a noble prize for her book, Shattered Lands.” “Before she wrote that novel, she’d lost her son.”

“I read that in an article.” Mama Ganga tapped her cane in the sand. Something hit me. I stared at the tip and it looked completely different. Instead of demons, witches danced around the entire length of wood. Beautiful women with their hands stretched out to the sky and their breasts full and lovely. They had to be witches, but they could’ve been something else. I had no idea just that power existed in their eyes. Each pair was made of crystals and other lovely gems that glittered in the sunlight. And even the handle was no longer silver, but ivory. Bright and white, like a full moon. I looked up at her. “You changed canes?”

“No, you did.” She tapped it again. “When Salena mourned her son, I was there, helping her get through it. Her publisher had contracted me to help her cope and get back to writing as soon as possible.” “That sounds harsh.” “You know as well as I do, the book business isn’t a friendly art village. It’s a money machine. Most of the time the contraption pumps out readable entertainment-- other times it forces out quick books. Some authors become slaves to the industry. She was one. But, that’s not important. What’s significant is that I helped Salena heal from her son’s death and return to writing.” “And you did that by having her

skinny dip in the ocean?” “There were many layers to the solution.” “That’s not an answer.” “I didn’t give answers to Salena, and she had many decorated awards on her wall, when I worked with her. You can barely afford me. Calm your ego and do what I say.” “It’s not my ego. I just don’t do public nudity.” “You’re scared.” She smirked. “How’s fear helping your writing?” “How’s nudity helping it?” “Again, I don’t answer questions.” She headed for the ocean, using her cane with each step. “Your agent paid for me. Whether you get in this ocean or not, I

have a whole week of wages. Let me know if you quit now so I can go on to the other side and get me a young boy to spend time with.” “Excuse me?” She continued toward the waves and paid me no further attention. A cool breeze blew through my locs as I trotted after her. “Look. I’m down to try other things, but I’m not comfortable with getting naked.” “Good. This is about getting uncomfortable. Art is not about comfort. It’s about taking chances, diving off the cliff, and screaming out that you’re the victor.” Only a few feet from the ocean, she sat down on the sand and grinned at the sky. “Don’t waste the day. Make me

earn my money. Get naked and run out there, into the water.” “And then what?” “Scream.” She tapped her hand against the cane. “Once you do that, then we go to the next part.” “What’s the next part?” “There are layers to this. You’re only on a need to know basis.” “Okay, but—” “Do you want a Nobel prize?” She pierced me with her gaze. “At this point, I would be happy with a cracker jack prize.” “People don’t get prizes for standing in the sand and hiding in their clothes.” “They get it for skinny dipping?”

She pointed back to the ocean and said nothing else. Quiet ensued. Minutes passed. At one point, I sat next to her and tried to start a conversation. She wouldn’t even look at me. Her lips remained closed. Her eyes continued to drink in the space. Her cane lay dangerously next to her. Minutes of silence went by, and I wondered why the hell I still sat out there with her. Was it because Sam had spent money on this? Our money? Or, did I really want to cure my writer’s block and was just scared? More time passed. No one walked on the beach. Every now and then, a boat sped by. A small airplane flew above us in the sky, dragging a banner

advertisement announcing half off bar drinks at Loco’s. Other than that, our area stayed quiet and undisturbed. Get naked and run in the water? That’s it. What if I do it? What would happen? People would think I’m stupid. I don’t like that. Who would know? Not many. Who cares? No one knows me here. But naked? Really? I sighed. A half hour passed, and Mama Ganga lounged there as if it had only been ten seconds. “Okay.” I stood up. The entire time, I repeated it would be okay in my head. I pretended I was doing this all for Sam and my career, not ready to deal with the fact that I yearned to be the sort of women that was free enough to shed

her clothes and run into the ocean. “You are that woman.” Mama Ganga interrupted my thoughts. “You can hear what I said in my head?” “You’re being crazy. I’m just that good with reading people. Plus, the desperation is all over your face. You wish you were wild and free. Instead, you stand there hugging yourself and shaking in those dingy jogging pants. Take control of your life! Run toward your destiny!” I mumbled, “Take control.” “Yes. Go ahead. Let go of all that fear and take a risk for once.” “Take a risk.” I slid out of my sneakers. My bare feet met the cool

sand. “You’ve got this,” Mama Ganga said. “What’s the worst that could happen?” “I could get arrested for public indecency, while I’m already on year probation for shooting my ex-husband.” She didn’t even flinch. “You’ll be fine. As humans, we lose touch with nature. Sometimes we have to go out into the wild, run in the grass, or roll down a hill and laugh. Sometimes we have to jump in the water with nothing on and whisper praise in the wind.” “Maybe we could do the running in the grass part.” “Because you’re scared.” “Because I don’t want to get

arrested.” “This is about your craft. Now get in the water!” “You’ll be fine.” She must smoke some serious weed. Mama Ganga frowned as if she heard me. “Are you serious about being a writer?” “Yes.” “I don’t know.” She sucked her teeth. “Right now you look like a scared little girl. You know what’s the difference between a regular person and a writer? They write! They remain dedicated, even when none of the pages makes sense. They write because they would die if they didn’t. They write!

Even when the dialogue falls and no one cares what they’re talking about. They write. They do the things that others fear. They write when people hate their books. They write when people love them. They write during the rain and even on a sunny day. Now get in the water!” Jesus. I blew out a long breath, slowly pulled down my pants, and scanned the area around me. No one had shown up. I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this. I slipped off my panties and squeezed my thighs like I could hide my special place from the world. “Get rid of that fear,” Mama Ganga said. “Take a risk. Be free. Be fearless.”

“Be fearless.” I yanked off my shirt and spilled out of my bra. Hugging everything that was jiggling and bouncing, I jogged toward the ocean. Hurry. In and out. You got this. A yacht, filled with people, sped by and I dove into the water shrieking, “Jesus!” Cool water swallowed me whole. The sting of salt hit my eyes. Every inch of my body rippled in cold waves. Bits of sand and seashells tickled my toes. I fucking did it! Never had I experienced this sort of sensation at the beach. Usually, certain parts of me were covered. This time, I felt every inch of the sea with my body.

My head rose from the water, and instead of rushing back to my clothes, I swam. Sunlight warmed my skin. Adrenaline soared through me. My stomach bubbled a little with uneasiness and then relaxed when no cop or weirdo came out to see my nakedness. I’m already here and naked. I might as well check it out. When in the hell will I ever do this again? Never. I don’t know how much time passed. It might’ve been several minutes. No other boats floated by and still, I swam and even laughed a little. “Don’t forget to scream!” Mama Ganga raised her cane in the air as she continued sitting in the sand. “What should I scream?” I called

back to her. “Anything.” The ocean’s surface rocked against me. I looked up at the blue sky and let out a long and loud shriek. My voice rose high in the air. Seagulls scattered. Then, more giggles spilled from my throat. For some reason, I yelled out again. This time I shook my head. My locs splattered water everywhere. God, this feels good. I roared, over and over, rang my fists in the air, and splashed the water around me. “I got this! I got this!” Mama Ganga shook her head. “Alright. Alright. No one told you to make all of that noise. I said one scream. You’re going to end up getting us

arrested.” “What?” I hugged myself and hid my breasts. “I thought you said that wouldn’t happen?” She slowly rose and gestured for me to come her way. “That doesn’t mean you purposely draw attention to yourself.” “What?!” I rushed out of the water and back to my clothes. “I’m naked. Of course I’m going to attract attention.” As I bent over, a boat sped by and blew his ridiculous siren behind me. Men hooted from the deck. Awesome. Thankfully, they moved on. After that, it took barely two minutes to put on my clothes. I was sure that my panties

were on inside out. Mama Ganga returned to me as I pulled on my sneakers. She held a notebook and pen in her hand and dropped both of those items in front of me. Where the hell did she get those? I don’t remember her holding them. She’s like a. . . magical negro or something. She glared at me. “What?” She shook her head and handed the notebook and pen to me. “Write something.” “What am I supposed to write about?” “Anything.” She stuck the end of

her cane into the sand and proceeded to draw a large circle around me. “You don’t leave this spot until you’ve written two pages.” I tucked my dreadlocks behind my ear. “Okay, but—” “You talk too much.” She signaled for me to sit down. I did. “I’m just trying to say that I have writer’s block.” “You don’t have writer’s block. You have fear. It’s gripping at your heart and won’t let go until you claw at it. It’s eating away at your passion. You’re terrified. You deny yourself from writing because you think you failed at life, and so you’re scared you’re going to fail as an author. What else do you stop

yourself from?” “I don’t—” “You do. Now write. Think about something and put it all on paper. “But—” “Write! Write! Write!” “Well. . .I’m thinking you would like me to write.” I blew out a long breath of air. Ocean water drenched my locs. Salty drops spotted the first page of my notebook. I flipped through a few blank pages until I arrived at a clean and unmarked sheet. For some reason, I couldn’t put my pen to paper unless it only showed beautiful white space. For me, every space between a word and sentence was

just as important as what was being said. Quirks like that drove my editors crazy, but gained me respect from the fans. They always understood what I was trying to do. They always embraced the experience. Mama Ganga circled me as I sat in the sand in a half-lotus position. The notebook laid on my leg. I gripped the pen and breathed in and out. “Writer’s block is about desperation and failure.” With each slow step, she lowered her voice into a soothing tone. “It means that some emotion has crippled the author’s mind. The thing they had passion for is gone. Today, we light the spark. We bring the fire back. We make your heart and soul

hot inside. We condition your mind never to want to douse that blaze. We pray for the inferno. Who hurt you, Kassie?” There was a time when I would’ve blurted out my ex’s name. But, after a year of walking inside of myself, I knew the truth. I said the words aloud, “I hurt me.” Mama Ganga stopped walking and gave me a curious look. “And how did you do that?” “I allowed myself to stay in a harmful relationship. Maybe he caused the pain in the beginning and knocked me down with his words, but I never got up from the ground. I stayed down in the dirt and let him kick me some more.”

“Why?” “Because I was afraid.” “Of what?” She returned to moving around me in a circle, never increasing her pace. “What were you afraid of?” “Being alone.” “Then, that’s what your heroine is afraid of. She doesn’t want to be alone. Start writing about her. But, remember, this isn’t your story. It’s hers. And you need to use the water.” Mama Ganga pointed out to the ocean. “You need to use all of the nature around you and let it seep into your spirit and feed your creativity. Put the ocean in the story for today.” Anxiety crawled all through my insides, but still I gripped the pen tight.

“Okay.” “Put the fear in there. Explore it. How scared is your heroine of being alone? How bad is she in need of love? What crazy things would she do, not to be alone? How does that deal with the ocean? And will this fear be explored in a contemporary setting or will you get adventurous and build a fantasy world?” Mama Ganga spoke some more, but within those seconds, my own desperation drummed inside of me. My fingers itched to get it all out. I didn’t have the same feelings I used to for romance, but fear was something I could definitely write about. Even in this time of separation, I worried that I might die alone. I’d been thinking about it,

constantly. With each day, I thought it would be fine never to love again. Other days, I could barely swallow down that possible reality. I didn’t want to be the crazy lady down the street with all the cats. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ve got something to write about.” My pen’s tip hit the paper, and words spilled out of me. A story came, and I wrote. . . On the dark beach, the full moon glowed on Luna’s brown skin. She ingested the power. It surged through her veins and vibrated throughout her body. Her nipples tingled and the stars twinkled. She yearned to be as free as the gems in the black sky.

“Hear my prayers!” Luna raised her hands in the air, and yelled to the ocean, “Come to me!” A cool wind whipped her gown from side to side. Sheer red fabric danced to the song of waves crashing and beach grass swaying, barely concealing her body. If someone shined a light on her, they’d witness her lush skin, the darkness of her nipples, and the swell of her breasts through the fabric. They’d see the hungry flower of flesh between her legs and the way it ached and craved to be touched. “Connect with me! Mother Earth, bring me my soul mate.” Back

and forth, she moved her body in the desperate rhythm that pounded in her heart. Energy emanated inside of Luna, throbbing and pulsating between her thighs. “I dance under the power of your moon. I use your influence—the ocean, my ancestor’s dirt, fire, and the night air. Make love to my soul!” On the ground, a circle surrounded her, made from a mixture of blood and cemetery dirt. She’d spent two months, cutting her flesh, piercing her veins, and waiting patiently as blood drops fell into a crystal jar. Two months of preserving the fluid with fierce determination.

Two months of scars and sores on her arms, fingers, and legs. Two months of preparing herself for the One. “May the blood bind my wishes to you.” This spell has to work. I will find my soul mate tonight. Then, I won’t die alone. Luna had retrieved the cemetery dirt from around her grandparent’s grave, drawing on her ancestral essence to strengthen the spell. Her family buried their loved ones differently than others. After bathing the body in holy water, they prayed over the dead for six days while it lay on sacred ground covered in roses and

herbs. Chanting came next. On the seventh day, the ancestor’s vessel went into the ground, unclothed, and wrapped in a quilt of flowers, twine, and leaves, sewn together by the family. This ritual made their personal cemetery potent. Come to me, my love. “May all the four elements help me!” She bent over, lifted the jug of ocean, and poured every salty drop onto the line of her ring. The water merged with her blood and ancestral soil. Instead of washing away or separating, flames rose all around until a circle of fire outlined her swaying form.

“Yes! I feel the energy.” Luna twisted her hips and twirled around with the wind, turning the heel of her foot with each motion and finding the link between her soul and the power that flowed all around her. “Bring him to me. Show me my soul mate!” Her arousal rose in the air and overpowered the salty fragrance of the sea. The gown dissolved into the breeze. A warm rosy glow bathed her brown body. Then suddenly, dark groans traveled outside of the circle. “Lover?” Luna shivered and whipped her head in that direction. Several red eyes stared back.

Their gazes were slanted shapes of fire. She counted eight pairs of eyes. Are they demons? Luna squinted to get a better look at them, but her circle’s flames rose high into a protective wall. She couldn’t see how they looked, but was certain of one thing. Nothing human stood outside of her circle, just black bodies formed into men, but full of evil. She didn’t scream or curse them to go away. As long as they didn’t bother her, she wouldn’t mess with them. All I care about is my soul mate. In the end, wasn’t she a beast,

like them, in some way? Didn’t they both have claws and fangs that others only saw at the worst times? Didn’t they do their best to hide the monsters that lived inside of them? “Bring me my soul mate!” Luna returned to her chants. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, but she continued with the dance, never showing them her fear. “Show me the one who’s to claim me.” A deep voice roared above the growls. “I am to claim you!” A tall creature towered over the others. All black and solid muscle. “No.” Her body stiffened as she studied him more. “The devil has

become more creative. You’re not a man. You’re a demon.” “Is that all I am?” he whispered. “Yes.” He looked like a man, but he wasn’t. His fragrance wafted all around her—this mixture of cloves and cinnamon, smoldering sex and the darkest evil. Only wicked spirits could’ve shaped him. He was too perfect. Too sculpted. Too much of more than she could ever dream of. He had a gorgeous mouth and possessed a lovely body. But, there were other things that the dark lord could not hide. “The devil made you.” Luna

pointed at the evidence. Huge silver horns stuck out of the creature’s head. He was larger than any man or beast she’d seen, bigger than the kings and princes she daydreamed about. His eyes burned red like the others, but this time when their gazes met, he set a fire right inside of her. A dark growl left his lovely lips. “I am your soul mate.” Luna couldn’t hide her reaction. A thrill ran though her flesh. No one ever tried to claim her, not human nor demon. All ignored her, pretended she wasn’t worth more than a glance. He licked his black lips. “You are to be mine.”

She almost smiled, but then, fear overcame her. No. Focus. “You’re not my soul mate.” She backed away further into the center of the circle. “You’re a demon.” The flames’ light flickered on his dark skin. “Demons can’t be soul mates?” “Demons don’t have souls.” “And neither do you.” He sniffed the air. “You’ve scared your soul away. Now you’re empty. I can fill you, little witch. You’re so ripe and ready.” “Get away, before my love shows up and kills you.”

His chuckle rumbled along my skin. “No one is coming, but me. Let your walls down and I will show you pleasure. Nothing will matter.” “No.” “You’re starving for more. Let me feed you.” He trailed his fingers down the rows of muscle on his waist and continued to move them down. She couldn’t help herself. Luna’s mouth watered. Her heart boomed louder in her ears. She followed his hands as he gripped his length and whispered, “Let me feed you, little witch.” Mama Ganga clapped behind me. “Okay. We’re done for today!” “What?!” I jumped out of my story.

“Hey. I’m not done. I’m trying to get to the good stuff.” Mama Ganga snorted and stumbled away with her cane. “If I remember correctly, you have a child.” I checked my watch and cursed. “Shit. I have to pick up Rich in twenty minutes. How many hours passed by?” “Several did.” “I can’t believe it.” My stomach grumbled. “I have to eat too.” “Yes. Your passion is returning.” I held the notebook close to me. “I hope so.” “No, not you hope so. Say it with confidence. Say it loud and with pride.” “My passion has returned.” “Say it again.”

“My passion has returned.” “One more time and scream it to the sky!” I grinned. “My passion has returned!” “Good. Enjoy your weekend. Try to write some more tonight. You have the weekend off. On Monday we see each other again, for the next level.” “What is the next level?” I headed to my car. Silently, she made her way to her convertible. “Hey!” I yelled. “You’re not going to answer?” She huffed and opened the door. “Wait a minute. Don’t you stay here?” I pointed to the house.

“No way. I just figured this would be a nice place to park.” “Oh, God. We were trespassing.” “You’re such a scared one.” She laughed, got in the car, and sped off.

Chapter 6 Lorenzo That

evening, I left the station with Rich’s volunteer form in my back pocket along with Kassie’s number on it. I’m turning into a stalker. Cool air hit my face. The moon hung in the sky and the stars glittered brightly and hopeful. I should call her. What’s the worst that could happen? Rockstar pulled up for his shift, booming R&B. He was a cool black dude that I’d trained with ten years ago. Through the many things we’d experienced on jobs, our friendship had developed into family status. We spent

holidays together and whenever we were both off, we popped open some beers and lay back on the beach. His mother had named him Rodney, but at the station, we called him Rockstar. He dressed like one—starstudded boots and ragged jeans, shiny shirts opened at the top and glittery shades. On dull shifts, he always had a guitar in his hands, strumming some new melody and writing down hard-hitting lyrics. He knew how to play many instruments, and for each one he was skilled with, he’d gotten it tattooed on his arms. They crowded the skin—tubas and drums, pianos and even a few violins. Always singing and performing for

us, every now and then he would take a gig at a kid’s birthday party or small shotgun wedding. Once, I’d asked Rockstar why he didn’t just put all of his energy into his music. I thought he hit the notes well, and every now and then, I couldn’t stop myself from sitting down and listening to his songs. Rockstar’s response shocked me and he earned more of my respect. He said that he loved music, but firefighting was his passion, the fire inside him that he could never put out. It was the first time I had words for how I felt. “Lou!” Rockstar carried his guitar case in one hand and a small bag in the other. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” I said. “We had a job on Siesta Key today. You remember the Grooving Alligator night club?” “Yeah.” Rockstar grimaced. “People still go there?” “Yep. The place was packed too, but no one was too badly injured.” I slung my bag on my back. Rockstar looked behind me. “Hey, Merck. What’s up?” “Tough night and a bullshit shift.” Frowning, Merck passed me as he headed to his car strolling by like a goddamn model. Although a cowboy at heart, he kept his red hair in a Mohawk. Like the rest of us, he spent his free days on the beach, but he never got a tan, just a lot of sunburn. Merck glared at us. “I

hate when it’s tourist season. Tonight was a rough one.” “What are you talking about, Merck?” I held my hands out. “This was a good shift.” “A woman almost died over that idiot bartender’s mistake,” he said. Not jumping into our conversation, Rockstar remained nosy, set his guitar case on the ground, and glanced at me. I shook my head. “She could’ve died, but she didn’t. So, that’s what we focus on.” “There you go with that positive manifestation bullshit.” Merck put his hand in front of him and mimicked masturbation. “I swear; I think you’re smoking weed on your off days.”

“No, but I am meditating. It keeps me from drinking.” Rockstar and Merck laughed, doubling over and clapping their hands. “That’s right. Laugh at my healing process,” I said. Merck waved me away. “All I need is a warm woman and a large bottle of Dowzan rum.” I raised my hands in mock defeat. “Hey, if that’s what you need to deal, then go for it. Just don’t sit around focusing on the negativity.” “Look.” Merck dug his hands in his pockets. “Tourist season is starting. I can feel the stupidity rising in the air. They’ll be some dumb asses starting a fire on the beach or getting into a drunken accident

and killing everyone.” Rockstar interrupted. “Got to be more positive, man.” Merck gestured at him. “Not you, too?” Rockstar slung his bag on his other shoulder and picked up his case. “I’m dating this chick that’s into yoga. She’s the happiest girl that I’ve met. And let me tell you, happy sex is fucking fantastic. I’m probably going to check out some of those books Lou be reading.” Merck didn’t appear convinced. “Forget that positive manifestation bullshit.” I stopped Merck before he could say more. “Listen. I’ve been at this for

ten years. I started at twenty-five. You have some years to go. Get your head right, now, before things get really hot.” “Yeah. I’ll probably get some sleep first.” Merck rubbed his face and smiled. “And then, I’ll get some head later.” “Head from a yoga chick is also amazing,” Rockstar added. “Well, I’m done with chicks,” Merck admitted. “Done?” I widened my eyes. “You’re into men now, Merck?” “Sure, Lou. The day I get into guys, I’ll be sure to run your way, you big hunk of love.” Merck attempted to hug me. I blocked him, before he could come closer. “What’s up with you and

women?” “They’re giving me problems. All of them.” “That’s your problem right there.” I laughed. “You’ve got more than one. Never have more than one woman. You see why I have no hair anymore. I learned that lesson the hard way. One woman at a time, my friend. One at a time.” “But how could I not date more than one?” Merck opened his jacket and displayed his slim body. “Look at me.” I almost punched him in his gut. “You young cats with your baby dicks ready to stick them in anything that wears heels.” “You weren’t like that at my age?”

Merck asked. “Shiiit,” Rockstar jumped in. “Lou was worse. Still is at times. Years ago, he had a thing for twins and I swear he banged every set of identical sisters on the west side of Florida. Then, the next year, he spent the whole twelve months dating women in pairs. Two women. On one date. I loved watching the fights. Oh, man. Double dating was fun with him. That’s why God gave Lou twin daughters. All that bad karma from back in the day.” I shrugged. “I’ve learned a lot. Any time you invite more than one chick to the party, you’re going to have a wild night with the police involved. And that’s not a metaphor.”

“Metaphor?” Merck snorted. “You and your big words.” “I need big words to go with my big cock.” I winked at him and walked off to my car. “Remember, young ones. Stay positive. Read books. And never talk to more than one woman at a time. That’s how you survive your twenties.” “Hold up.” Rockstar lifted one hand. “How many women you messing with right now, Merck?” The crazy man replied, “Seven women.” I twisted my face in shock and glanced over my shoulder. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” “No,” Merck laughed. “More like, three Keishas, a Felicia, Cynthia,

Vivian, and Brandy.” Rockstar dropped his bag. Worry creased the edges of his eyes. “First of all, what are you doing with three Keishas?” “What?” Merck held his hands out to his sides. “I love my sisters. Black women are beautiful.” “No,” Rockstar wagged his finger. “They’re my sisters, not yours. I’m black. You’re the very opposite of black in every way.” “They’re my sisters too,” Merck argued. “Eh whatever, man.” Rockstar picked up his bag. “All I know is one thing. Stop dating Keishas. They’re crazy. I’ve never met a sane Keisha in

my life. Good in bed, but they will make you lose your mind.” “It’s too late. I’m already in love with the coco.” Rockstar and I exchanged glances. Merck shrugged. “What? I listen to rap too.” Chuckling, I opened my door and hopped in. “Goodnight, guys.” These were the great moments of my job. I’d had rough times in the past. It made me cherish the good days even more. All my life, I worked hard. I got my EMT certification early. I’d planned to ride ambulances for the rest of my life, but it didn’t stick. So, I looked at other careers where I could serve the

public. My mom worked as a social counselor. She preached about the importance of helping others, and I hoped to dedicate my life to that philosophy. But, the police force didn’t excite me. Growing up as a mixed boy in a poor black neighborhood, I learned to fear the cops at an early age. By seven, I knew that if I spotted one, I should turn in the other direction, keep my hands out to the side, and my head straight like I was going somewhere. In my twenties, I was stopped all of the time, if I drove around in a rich neighborhood. I knew men on the force. I understood their hardships and how in

some of the blocks that they worked in, many of the residents saw them as an enemy. But, I could never put on the uniform. Never speak the oath. It didn’t sit right with the problems I still had with some of their procedures. When I turned twenty-one, I volunteered with the American Red Cross and met fire service professionals. We partied after hours and I discovered that a real brotherhood existed among them. I ached to be a part of that sort of gang. A band of brothers helping people and having a blast while doing it. The next year, I took fire technology classes at Manatee community college, banging several hot chicks at the time, and

managed to make my mothers and sisters proud. Truthfully, Mom would’ve been happy if I was cooking fries in McDonalds. By then, most of the guys in my neighborhood had gone to jail or died. Barely fifty percent of my classmates made it to post-secondary colleges or joined the military. The rest withered away in the bricked community of poverty and depression. I maintained a clean lifestyle as much as I could. Although, I had a bad temper and pounded several of my sister’s ex-boyfriends' faces into the ground, I never was arrested, not even a traffic ticket. I didn’t mess with drugs and kept three condoms in my pocket every day. My background investigation

slid through with ease. However, that was only the beginning. The hiring process almost shredded me—tests from a written examination to physical agility and even an oral interview. I failed one of the tests the first time, didn’t give up, and succeeded the second time. I made it through. More problems came. It took me a long time to understand the technical parts of the job like equipment operation and building construction, but I did it. I’d worked hard and had it all—the house, healthy kids, and loving support of my family. I had it all. I just didn’t have the lady. In my twenties, I never thought like

that. The only shit that ran through my mind was sports, breasts, and the funny things that happened whenever they did. Now the numbers started increasing for my age, and my family’s elders began to look much older than they should. They were getting scary old. . . like. . .I might have to move people into my house. . .old. It made me nervous. Like the party wouldn’t last forever. Like there’d be a time when I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize my face under the wrinkles and gray eyes. I wasn’t afraid to die. I was, however, terrified to be old, alone, and full of regret. I’d done it all—jumped out of air planes, dived in the deep sea, flew to

other countries and slept with their sexiest natives. But, what I’d never done was fall in love. What am I going to do with you, Miss Kassie? I took out the volunteer form and stared at it. I’d already memorized her address. A large part of me wanted to drive by her house. This is getting weird. I asked her for her number and she started talking about cutting my dick off. What would she do if I called her out of nowhere? Kassie had problems. The scars of divorce were still fresh and raw. I’d been through the ugliness of

divorce, crying every night, fucking anything that breathed, and drinking more than I should. The loss of my marriage peeled away at my sanity. I had twin girls, just toddlers who never remembered the household where their mother and I had done our best to love them. But, it would’ve been one thing, if my ex-wife, Cicely, had been a good mother or even a decent woman. But, she’d always had problems. Back when we met, I’d believed I could save Cicely. We’d met at Peek-aBoo strip club. She danced for me all night, while I got wasted. When the club closed, we stumbled toward a cab. I was too drunk to drive, and she was too

wasted to care. To the cabbie’s surprise, she gave me a blowjob during the ride home. We barely knew each other’s name, but spent the rest of the weekend together, between hot sheets and mingled wet limbs. I thought it was instant love, when it was only lust. She had a fit body and cute personality; although I thought, she yelled at our servers too much and was a bit rude to strangers. I overlooked the signs for the swing of her hips and the sex in her smile. By the fourth date, she was asking me for money. Something tingled at my gut, but I ignored the feeling and gave her the funds. On the fifth date, she

moved into my place or really, she just spent the night one time and never left. She continued to dance, but I never saw any money. She never offered to pay a bill or even took the check for the many restaurants we frequented. Still, I didn’t mind. There were things about her that reminded me of myself, and made me want to take care of her. Like me, nightmares had plagued her sleep. And on the nights, when I’d wake up screaming from a dream about burnt bodies piled around me, she’d hold me close to her and rock me back to sleep. And, for her, I did the same. I never knew what she screamed about, just that it hurt her enough that she’d have to

borrow some money and leave for a few hours. I wasn’t a fool. I knew she did drugs. But, I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t want to deal with the reality of my fun toy. I was a boy after all, and she had skills in bed. So, I pretended that she wasn’t an addict, and she pretended to love me. Months later, Cicely told me she was pregnant. She failed as a mother, at times leaving our babies at home by themselves. Once my mother found her passed out in the middle of the kitchen, while both my twins, by then toddlers, sat in soiled diapers. That was the last straw, I told her I was filing for a divorce and would be

taking the kids. The next morning, my ex disappeared with the girls. I exhausted money in a private investigator. After two years of not seeing my twins, I’d drowned in depression and had given up all hope. That was my rock bottom. I lived in fear for my girls and wallowed in the agony of it all. Then one morning, my ex, Cicely showed up at my doorstep, depressed, and hooked on drugs. She used to have rich chocolate skin and thick curls that teased her shoulders. On that day, the lovely hue in her complexion was gone and her hair stood on her head in knotted clumps. No, baby. What happened to you?

Cicely’s eyes were red where they should’ve been white. Snot dripped from her nostrils, as if she was a little kid who didn’t know any better. And there, the twins stood in front, only five. Hope and Faith. Their hair was all over the place. Their clothes looked wrinkled and unwashed. Dirt and stains decorated their tops. Ripped holes dotted their jeans and even their shoes had seen better days. Hope clutched her dolls as Faith stared up at me with fear in her eyes. My mind went back to that horrid memory. “Cicely?” I opened the door and didn’t yell at her. I just hugged my babies, wrapped my arms around them,

and wouldn’t let go. After those two silent years, all Cicely had to say to me was, “Lorenzo, just watch them for me real quick.” “Watch them?” I had to force myself to stay calm in front of the twins. “Cicely, I’m not a babysitter. I’m their father. I want them for as long as I can have them.” “Well,” she shrugged. “Here’s your time.” “You kidnapped them.” Like a dope fiend, she coughed several times into her hands and then cleared her throat. “How long do you want them?” Please, say she didn’t get addicted to something. Fuck. What is

it? Dear God, what have the girls been through? “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” I asked. “What’s going on, Cicely? Talk to me.” She wiped some of the snot away. “Being a mom is too much. They’re too much. I can’t deal with it. And I need money and a little break.” No. There’s more going on. I didn’t know if the girls understood what she was saying, but just in case, I guided them inside of my house. “Come on girls. Are you hungry?” They nodded their heads. I worried that they didn’t remember who the hell I was, but then Faith blinked

and gave me a big hug. “I love you, Daddy.” I love you more than you can ever imagine. And, in that moment, I realized that I would never let Faith or Hope out of my sight. “Go in the kitchen. I’ll make you something,” I said. They continued to hold each other’s hands and headed to the back of my house, probably unsure of the way. It didn’t matter. I just needed them out of sight so I could curse out their mother. I blocked Cicely from coming in, stepped out on the front porch, and closed the door behind me. “You don’t

ever take my kids away from me, again? Do you understand?” My hands shook. Every part of me yearned to wrap my hands around her neck. “Anything could’ve happened. Anything!” “I couldn’t deal with—” “I don’t care what you couldn’t deal with.” It was a miracle I wasn’t strangling her. “Two years. Not one word. You could’ve at least texted me to say that they were alive.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “You don’t care about me?” “I did care for you, but then, I was the dumb ass that married you and realized why a man should never turn a hoe into a house wife. You spread your

legs to everybody who was willing to take a sniff.” She slapped me. “Don’t you ever talk to me that way.” The sting bit my face. I made myself back up. “Fine. Maybe I deserved that, but you’re lucky that I’m not going to kill you right now. You took my girls away from me and didn’t say shit!” “I’m sorry.” She reached out for me. “No.” I pulled out all the money I had in my wallet and dumped it into her hand. “Just leave.” “Oh. Yeah.” She counted the bills and then nodded like a crazy person. “I-I’ll be back. Yes. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” I dug my hands into my pants and searched for anything else I could give her. It must’ve been two or three hundred dollars. “You think I could grow up with a crack addict for a father and not know the drill. You’re messed up on something. I don’t know what it is, but get off of it, if you ever want to see Faith or Hope, again.” “Those are my girls!” The anger edged her words, yet her gaze remained on the twenty-dollar bills that I counted. “If you need more, then call, but you don’t come near my girls, unless you’re clean. You understand?” She glanced at the door for a second and then snatched the money

from me. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you think you can keep me away from my kids? It’s just going to be for a few hours.” I’d heard that repeatedly with my father. “Don’t come back, until you’re clean.” Cicely never came back to get the girls. But, every now and then, she stumbled up to my house in the middle of the night to ask for money. She knew I would give it to her, if only to keep her attention away from getting the twins, again. No one knew about her drug habit, but my closest friends. For the twins and my family, I created a false story about Cicely. I pretended that she’d gone

overseas for the peace corp. She’d changed her whole life around and couldn’t afford to visit or call as much as she hoped. The twins were easy to convince. My family, not so much. The lie required more energy than necessary. It became a second job. I wrote letters to the twins, pretending to be her. I sent postcards and even had Rockstar and Zorro create a fake Facebook profile with a couple of doctored photos that I’d already had of her. I even had an ex-girlfriend of mine, Sadie, who would call them every two or three months to say hi. At first, Sadie did it for a few bills, but after a year, she enjoyed pretending. She’d never had kids and made most of her money doing

nude webcam work. But, she always hoped to be an actress and have kids. Life didn’t turn out that way and so she joined my team of craziness. The entire thing was absurd, but, each year, the lie continued. We were now heading into the sixth year of this deception. Meanwhile, Cicely showed up at my door in odd spurts, begging for money and ducking in the shadows. My soul darkened each time I handed her a couple of bills. I wasn’t supposed to be funding her drug habit. It was just that sometimes, when I said no, she would threaten to take my girls. My heart would break and the fear would rise, and I’d reach for my wallet to shut her up. It had been six years of

that, and as long as the girls remained happy, I didn’t give a fuck what Cicely did with the money. Sometimes, I worried that they needed a mom or at least a good female role model in their lives that wasn’t their grandmother and aunts who only spoiled them. The women I met in clubs and at times slept with weren’t worthy enough to meet my twins. Most were uniform chasers and badge bunnies—groupies to any man of service. They just hoped to fuck a firefighter, not actually stick around, and deal with the not-so-fun parts of life—the stress that came from losing your friends to fires, the long hours, and the intense responsibilities of

a single father. When it came to my girls, I could only show them the best. So far, they hadn’t met anyone. Kassie, that was someone I could bring home—cultured and a drive to do something as difficult as write books that people wanted to read. Still, she found time to work out and take care of a kid, instilling good manners in him. He must’ve said sir twenty times. Yeah. Kassie’s worth a further inquiry. Sighing, I pulled out my phone and decided to message her.

Chapter 7 Kassie “Yes,

Daddy.” Rich revealed a sad expression as he held the phone to his ear. “I know. I promise I won’t play around with fire alarms, anymore.” My son paused and then handed the phone to me. “Hello?” I headed to my bedroom, just in case I had to yell at Ellis. I couldn’t do that in front of my son. Ellis’s voice held an edge. “I had to hear from my sister that my son got into trouble.” “Yeah,” I said. “You should feel pretty bad about that.” “What? I should feel bad?”

“Yes. You would’ve known, if you called him yourself, regularly.” “Unlike you, I have a job.” “I’m a published author.” “You were. When’s the last time you put a book out?” “Is there something you want, Ellis?” “I’m coming up to check on Rich and make sure he’s being taken care of.” My entire body raged. Dear God it was enough to want to pick my gun back up, rush down to Miami, and shoot him in the leg, all over again. I didn’t. I had no more time to waste, and I was no longer stuck to this monster. At least, Rich will get to see him. He waited on the other side of the

line, silently, probably hoping I would come back with an ill retort. Half the time, I believed Ellis just loved fighting with me. “Great,” I said. “Let me know the details and I’ll give you our address.” “And you better make sure he’s living in a good neighborhood. If not, I can take care of him here.” I hung up, before I lost control. Ellis had the whole year that I sat in jail and a mental facility, to take care of Rich. He didn’t, and now I could never look him in the eyes with any respect. Fuck you, Ellis. Go talk to one of your chicks. I’m over you. Rich’s television turned on in his bedroom. I knew he’d be out in the next

five minutes and the screen would be watching him. Checking on him and confirming that fact, I turned off the hall light and headed back to my bedroom. I didn’t hate all things about my new house. Although, the kitchen and living room was too small, my bedroom and bathroom made up for it. Sometimes, I focused on those two rooms to not feel defeated. A queen-sized bed stood at the center of my bedroom, covered in tons of soft pillows encased in chocolate silk. I’d spend a good bit of money on the comforter. It laid perfectly—hand sewn in silk and satin. Sky blue walls encased the room. Plush white carpet

decorated the floor. Every time I stepped inside the room, it reminded me of the beach—powder white sand and blue skies. I kept huge candles on the nightstand. Most were blue with fruity fragrances. Others were ocean scents. A massive bookshelf covered two entire walls. One would think that would be enough to hold all of my books, but truthfully, every room had crowded shelves. I was a bibliophile. Bookstores loved my pockets and I had a haunting addiction to the scent of a new novel. Sam joked that I could orgasm to the opening of a new leather bound book. She might’ve been right. I hid my naughty reads in my bedroom. Between those hidden covers,

pirates pumped into blushing mermaids, dark corporate alphas dominated virginal submissives, and vampires pierced clits with their fangs, delivering a surge of heat through the heroine’s body. In the living room, books served as furniture. Everyone always stacked the Great American Novels and high praised literary works for all eyes to see. One could find a War and Peace on the coffee table, as if the homeowner had just been disturbed from devouring the lengthy work. Stories like Moby Dick and Hamlet decorated shelves. Furniture novels. They gave the homeowner an appearance of education. Someone could look at those works and proclaim, “Now

that’s a well-read person.” But, what people really read, laid in the far back of the house. The bedroom. The real owner’s library. It would probably shock the average person to know what their mother, father, or cousin truly enjoyed, while they pageflipped in the privacy of their home. One could check out the NY or USA Today’s Bestseller’s list and witness the reality of reading trends. Romance and erotica dominated and where there wasn’t sex, there was horror and mystery. Literary works barely hit the lists, and when they did, it was from authors who’d been in the game for several years. Yet, it was in that moment of grabbing a

nasty little read that my phone buzzed. I checked the screen. Someone had texted me, but the name was unknown. Unknown: Hey, Kassie? Me: Who is this? Unknown: Lorenzo. Me: Who? Unknown: Lt. Hornsby. Me: How did you get my number? Lorenzo: The volunteer form. Me: Is this official fire department business? Seconds passed. He didn’t respond. Then my phone rang. I checked the screen. It was his number, of course. I picked up. “Are you insane?” “Yes.” Lorenzo’s seductive voice flowed in my ears.

I’d forgotten how sexy he sounded. “I want to apologize for calling you, so late,” he said. “I just got off work. We had a busy day.” “And let me guess.” I rolled my eyes. “The day was filled with fighting fires. You were worried and stressed, but you pulled up your courage, trudged through your adrenaline rush, and saved someone’s life. Now you’re feeling all manly and have decided to call me to hear my sweet voice?” He cleared his throat. “That’s actually correct on all fronts.” “Sure it is, buddy. I’ve read enough firefighter romances to plot this whole scene. Try your lines on someone else. Goodnight, Lorenzo.” I hung up,

glanced in my bedroom mirror, and shrugged. “I told him I was a crazy bitch. He just had to test me.” The phone rang again. The same number glowed on the screen. I considered not answering it, but since Rich would be spending time with him tomorrow, I did. Maybe you shouldn’t be a bitch to the guy that’s going to be around your kid for an hour. I picked up the phone. “Hello.” “It’s not nice to hang up on people,” Lorenzo said. “True. I’m sorry, but I did tell you that I was crazy.” “No, you’re not crazy. You’re dealing with a lot of pain.” “I’m not.”

“Are to.” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have much tolerance for men.” “Because some asshole hurt you?” “No. Because many assholes hurt me.” Material rustled on his side of the line. “What are you doing over there?” I asked. “I’m lying in bed and getting comfortable.” “You use my phone number for unofficial reasons as you lay naked in bed?” His voice oozed pure sex. “Who said I was naked?” I opened my mouth shocked that I’d

even said that. “Well. . .are you?” “Yes.” A sensual laugh flowed over the phone. “Are you?” I blurted out, “No.” “Too bad.” “Wow. You’ve lost points.” “I didn’t even know we had started the game,” he said. “We didn’t.” “We did, if you took away points.” He laughed again. “I’m not dating men right now.” “Why?” “Because. . .” “They break hearts,” he finished for me. “And tell me something, Mrs. Crazy Woman, have you ever broken any hearts?”

“Never.” “Liar.” “Fine. Maybe, when I was younger.” “Aww,” he said. “Sounds like women and men both break hearts and do cruel things.” I rolled my eyes again. “Was that supposed to be a learning moment right there?” “Yes. Maybe you should give this great man on the other line a break.” “And some sex?” “Why do you always think I want sex?” Giving up on reading a book, I headed over to my own bed, turned off the light on my night stand, and laid

down. “Because most men want sex.” He remained silent on the line for a minute and chuckled. “Okay. There’s some truth to that statement. I won’t pretend that I haven’t seen a particular woman, from time to time, and only wanted her body.” “See. Men are pigs.” “Women do the same thing.” “Never,” I said. “We’re precious angels, born with wings between our legs, and all you guys ever do is try to take our wings away so we can’t fly.” “That’s a very odd metaphor. What type of books do you write?” “Romance.” “The woman who threatens to chop off penises, writes romances?”

Embarrassment flushed my face. “Yes.” “Romance novels must’ve changed in my day. My mom would read a bunch of the Fabio ones. Pirates ripping away dresses. I loved those covers.” “Why?” “The women had nice breasts. I used to sneak them in the bathroom and. . .” I giggled. “Yes?” “Never mind. You already thought this was a booty call. Let’s leave that discussion for another time.” “We won’t be talking again.” Determination dotted each word. “We will. I just wanted to call you for the initial introduction. I got tired of

waiting for you to pull your big girl pants up and take a chance on a hero.” “Whoa. A hero?” “Yes. And for your information, I did save a woman tonight. She was passed out in the bathroom of a burning nightclub. The ceiling crashed before me, twice and I thought it might have been my last fire. My group and I got out there safely, but it was close and I was scared shitless. I kept saying the lord’s prayer in my mind, over and over.” I sat up in bed. “Praying keeps you calm?” “Praying keeps my mind from screaming like a baby and yelling, ‘Get me out of here. I didn’t start this fire! I don’t want to die!’”

“So, you’re just as afraid to run into a burning building as everyone else?” “Every damn time.” “Then, why do you do it?” “Because no one else will, and someone should.” I lay back down and rested my head on my pillow. “Then, you are a hero.” “I’m glad you agree.” An odd silence drifted over the line. Tension built in my chest. Why did he become so quiet? Hold on. Why do I care? His voice disturbed my thoughts. “Kassie?” “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you take my business card?” “I can’t see myself talking or spending time with someone right now. My head is too foggy. Some days, I wake up and I’m angry. Other days, I wake up crying. That doesn’t sound like a fun person to date. Does it?” “I know what you’re going through. A large part of my years of separation involved alcohol. I didn’t have a problem, but I could’ve.” “My vice is ice cream.” “Hmmmm.” That sound drummed through me. “Why hmmm?” I asked. “That’s why you’re working with those lush curves.”

“Oh I’ve got curves alright. All over the place.” “Hmmm,” he whispered again. “What?” “In due time, Kassie.” “In due time, what?” “What are you doing after you pick your son up from volunteering? I was thinking maybe you and I could—” “No. I have a date,” I lied. Silence. It scared me a little how quiet he’d gotten. “Are you there?” I asked. “I get the first date.” He didn’t sound angry, but each word was humorless. “So, you’ll have to cancel with him.” I probably didn’t have to explain

myself, but I did, anyway. “And what if it’s with a woman?” “Hmmm.” “Stop it. I’m not dating a woman or man, but I’m busy.” “You shouldn’t play with a hero’s emotions. You know that, right?” He chuckled to himself some more. “I’ll see you in the morning, Crazy Woman.” For some reason, emptiness filled me. Part of me yearned to talk some more. The other part became scared. What if I got used to hearing his voice? What if I needed to talk to him, daily? What if he made me so happy that I couldn’t go a day without him? Love triggered the oddest things. No.

It was better to not love or attach myself to someone else. Being alone held a certain amount of safety. I could lay in my bed and not worry about someone hating me on the pillow next to mine. I could walk through the house, naked and not stress about another being disgusted at my body. I didn’t have to try and be something I was not. There was no need to go further with Lorenzo or anyone else. “Mrs. Crazy Woman?” he whispered and a shiver ran through my body. “Are you still there?” “Yes.” I bit my lip. “I enjoyed this phone call,” he said in a serious tone. “I would like to call you again and I would be grateful, if you

answered, when you could.” “I don’t know.” “Stop being scared. It’s only two people saying words into small devices. Nothing else.” “I’m not sure.” “I’m calling you, again. And when your phone rings, you will answer.” He probably waited for a reply. “And we will have a wonderful phone conversation.” I was too busy biting my lip. Then he practically moaned the words, “Goodnight, Kassie.” Does he have to freaking say my name like that? I sighed. “Goodnight, Lorenzo.” “Damn, I love your voice.”

“Yours isn’t that bad, either.” “I’ve gotten some compliments in my day.” “I bet you have.” I shook my head. “Good job, by the way.” “Good job for what?” he asked. “Thank you for saving the woman and pulling her out of that fire. I don’t know if she said it, but I’m sure she will. Good job and I’m glad you’re protecting this city. We need more good guys in the world.” “Hmmm.” My body reacted—nipples stiffening and panties wetting. “Damn it. Stop doing that.” “It’s the only way I can keep in all of the things I want to say.”

“And what do you want to say?” “Not now. Let’s take our time. Goodnight, Kassie. I enjoyed talking to you.” “Goodnight.” I hung up, but his voice lingered in my mind hours later. I tossed and turned in my bed. I was hot even though the air conditioner blew cold air into my room. I kept picturing Lorenzo in an enflamed nightclub and scared out of his mind. Of course, my imaginations didn’t fit reality. In my head, he stomped around naked and bulging sweaty muscles. I was the damsel in distress, but I wore a breathtaking gown as I lay in a bed of roses in the bathroom, waiting for him to come.

Stop it. This is what I was afraid of. The freaking daydreaming and thinking about him all the time. I need to focus on writing. I got up from my bed, headed to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and sat down at the computer to work on my story. My focus needed to be off of Lorenzo and back to my writing. It was due to a man that I’d lost my mojo. Ellis broke me down and even now, I sat in the aftermath, trying to repair myself. Go back to the desperate witch. Go back to the circle of fire and the ocean and that sexy ass demon outside trying to get in. He’s sexy, but he can’t get in! He’s sexy and hot and she needs love, but he’s still a demon. He can’t

get in! I placed my fingers on the keys and put it all on the screen. And then I wrote. . . His fragrance soared all around her—a mixture of cloves and cinnamon, smoldering sex and the darkest evil. Within the fire circle, Luna couldn’t stop gazing at the demon. She gave herself a minute to get lost in his beauty. How smooth were those huge, silver horns on his head? They glowed in the moonlight and looked sharp at the tip. His arms bulged with muscle. His dark skin stretched sleek and ebony all over his body. “Oh, my, little witch.” The

gorgeous creature licked his lips. “If that circle wasn’t here, you would be mine.” “Lies. Now leave me alone.” Luna continued to sway with the wind, her nipples hardening even more under the sheer fabric. His burning eyes followed her every movement. A dark groan left him. Her flesh reacted more—every inch of her tingled with lust. Wetness dripped between her thighs and the creature raised his nose in the air, sniffed, and moaned in pure desperation, “Please, let me taste you.” Luna should’ve turned away and

ignored him. She’d asked Mother Earth for her soul mate, not some evil being. But she couldn’t move. He stepped closer to the circle of flames. The fire rippled between Luna and him. “I will be yours forever, little witch. Just say yes.” Her mouth watered at the crazy thought. Hadn’t she spent enough nights alone? Hadn’t she dreamed for somebody, anybody to just touch her like they loved her? Hadn’t she fell to her knees in the soil and begged for someone, anyone? Luna’s heart boomed louder in her ears. She followed the demon’s

hands as he gripped his length and whispered, “Let me feed you, little witch.” “But you’re a demon.” She forced herself to step into the center and turn around to get away from him. A murderous sound ripped from his throat. “Do not taunt me, little witch! I’m hungry for you just as much as you are for me. Turn around and face me.” “No!” But, her insides swelled and throbbed. He moaned the next words. “I am your puppet and your essence holds the strings. You twirl your hand and I move to your delight. You place

me high on your shelf and I wait impatiently for you to pick me up again. I love you, little witch.” Luna transformed into this aching vessel. It sickened her. He wasn’t supposed to have that much control over her desires with his words alone. Her thighs grew slick with arousal and her movements to Mother Earth came out less precise and more sluggish. He whispered, “Turn to me, puppet master.” Just one look. I’ll only have one more look. She drifted drunkenly, winding her hips as she turned back around to

him. The light in his eyes almost blinded her, but still, she couldn’t look away. He gripped his cock hard and she worried that he’d squeeze the swollen tip until it was nothing more than a deflated vessel of flesh. “I’ve sat outside your window many nights, little witch.” “You lie.” “I don’t. You stay in the little pink house with the triangle windows and the pots of lavender outlining the stairs.” She opened her mouth. No words came out, just shock. “I felt your ache in the air.” He stroked himself. “Your hunger is honey

on my tongue. The sweetest smell. Your heart beats urgently for something. You lay in your bed with lonely lips and a hollow chest, and you yearned so badly that I trailed you on the darkest night with no need for light or a guide to show me the way. That is how badly you want.” Long plumes of smoke wisped above the firewall that stood between them. The flames sizzled with his image and his black lips formed into a smile. “What do you want most of all, little witch?” “To be loved,” she whispered under his trance. “And what is love?”

“I don’t know.” “Let me try to show you. Put down your wall.” The other pairs of eyes crept closer and groaned in hunger, too. Yet, her big demon didn’t appreciate the others’ nearness and with one hiss, they all dissipated. Their black bodies disintegrated into shadows and dust, merging back into the moonlit sand. Now, only Luna and he stood on the beach with flames burning from her ancestor’s ashes and the wind disturbing the salty ocean behind her. “Let me show you love.” His voice played along Luna’s thighs and

skittered across her flesh. “Put down your wall.” “No. If I do, you’ll take my soul.” “But it will feel intoxicating.” Her breathing turned heavy. She dropped her hands to her sides and swayed. She tried to think logically about the situation, but she couldn’t focus. Luna was lost—under the spell of the full moon, drowning in the control of her people’s power and the essence of the land and the promise of love and sex. No words of reason traveled in the air. Only the sound of the ocean’s waves crashing and the crackling of the flames greeted her

ears. She was lost. Forgotten by others. Alone in a crowd. Broken before she knew what it meant to be complete. She’d sank into desperation. She craved to be loved, and prayed to be made whole by somebody. Something. But anything? No. Focus. I can’t think about this demon. My soul mate is out there. Then the creature sang, “So sweet. Her soul. It hangs out of her body for me. And my love will set her free. And our hearts are the victory.” His silver horns sparkled as he stalked around her circle of fire. “So

sweet. Her soul. Ripe fruit. So heavenly. It bleeds out to me. And our hearts are the victory.” “Be quiet.” She raised her hands to her ears and did her best to block out the singing, but the words had sounded promising. What he said, she hoped would be true. “And our hearts are the victory.” “Stop, please,” she begged. “I love you,” he whispered. “Let down your walls. Let me show you.” The flames rippled a little, but thank, god, they didn’t weaken. “No!” Her nipples stiffened to hard buds that poked through her gown.

The demon moved his gaze to her points and licked his lips. Inside of Luna’s head, she pictured her mouth on his, tasting and sucking. How would his black skin feel against hers? How unyielding would the pleasure be? Demons were ancient beings, skilled in the art of desire and manipulation. Could he take away the loneliness? No. What am I even thinking about? I can’t make love to a demon. “Go!” She panted. Still her arousal coursed through every vein. The scent of her lust thickened the air. She almost chocked. The demon inhaled the space around him and roared at the sky.

Birds scattered away. “Leave!” Wind whipped through her hair. She backed up. “Take off your gown.” He touched the wall of fire. Sparks flared around his fingertips. He hissed and jerked back. “You’re strong, but your empty heart weakens you. Your hunger drains you.” Was he right? Has she craved sex and love for so long that even a creature like him could entice her, have her body hot and dripping? “Please, Mother Earth.” She lowered herself to the ground. “Please, save me.” “She’s trying to,” the demon

growled. “That’s why she sent me.” “No.” She stared at him from the ground. “That can’t be true.” “Then, you’re right.” “What?” She blinked. “Your mind is the creator of your reality. If I am not yours, then it will be true.” He touched the flames a little again. Less sparks appeared, but still he jerked back in annoyance. “But, if you believe that I am your soul mate, then it will be true.” “How?” “Because only you can control your destiny.” “Lies.” I stopped there. Sunlight peered in through my

window and I realized, I’d been writing all night. Part of me wanted to work on the story some more, but the mother in me said no. It was time to make breakfast and spend time with Rich before he volunteered with the fire department. And besides. . .what else would I say. Would Luna let down the wall and sleep with the demon? She couldn’t? But how would I stop this demon from taunting her? Why did I even write him in? What about her soul mate? Would he show up and save her? And where the hell was all of this going? Well. . . at least I didn’t blend a penis this time.

I patted myself on the back and dragged myself to wake my sleeping little boy.

Chapter 8 Lorenzo I stood in front of the station waiting for Kassie and Richard to show up and did my best to keep the eagerness from showing on my face. Rockstar headed outside, dressed in the station’s t-shirt and jogging pants. A large cup of coffee held in his hand. Confusion wrinkled the edges of his eyes. “What are you doing here, Lou? I thought you were off.” He got to my side and leaned on the brick wall behind us. “Who has the girls?” “My mother. They’re doing a big beauty day. Apparently, no men are

invited.” “Lucky them.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Oh man, I have to tell you something.” “What?” I looked his way. “I don’t know how to say this to you.” Rockstar sighed. “I spotted Cicely a couple nights ago, walking down Tamiami Trail.” It was a busy street. Cheap, by-thehour motels and beat-up gas stations crowded both sides of the road. During the day, only a few runners or bikers mixed in with the filth. At night, pimps, dealers, and drugged-out prostitutes strolled up and down, hoping to entice a couple truck drivers or lonely perverted tourists speeding by.

“Yeah?” I turned back to the front drive and tried to keep my face neutral. “What time was it, when you saw Cicely?” “I was leaving the strip club with this sweet thing. That new dancer named Gypsy. It must’ve been after midnight at least.” He said nothing else. Please tell me you’re not out on the streets like that, Cicely. You can get killed. Stress built up in my chest. Half the time, I read motivational books to deal with my emotions about Cicely. I didn’t love her like a husband anymore, but I did care for her very much. She’d brought my girls into the world, and someday, I hoped they could be reunited

with her. If anything, it was in my best interests to save her. But how the hell do I do that? “I. . .” Rockstar began to talk and then stopped. “What?” Rockstar sipped more of his coffee and then said, “I stopped the car and gave her some money. I hope you’re okay with that. I just. . .I just didn’t want her out there like that.” “I know. Thanks.” I rubbed my forehead and tried to make light of the situation. “I’ll be sure to give money to your future ex-stripper wife soon, too.” Rockstar smiled. “I appreciate that.” “Stop dating strippers, man.

Seriously.” “They’re not all bad.” I blew out a long breath. “Yeah. You’re right. I shouldn’t do that. They’re not all bad.” “When are you going to tell the girls the truth about their mom?” “As long as she stays hidden, I was thinking we could do this until high school graduation.” “No way.” “I know.” I rubbed my eyes. “Soon. I’m going to sit down and tell them soon.” “You said that last year.” “I know.” “And the year before that.” “I know.”

“It’s not like I don’t like making fake photographs for you each year. It’s just getting harder to hear Faith or Hope talk about how excited they are to see their Mom this summer.” “Yeah. I haven’t thought up a good reason for why she can’t come, this time.” “Just. . .you got to tell them, Lou.” “I know.” Then Rockstar gave me an odd look. “Wait a minute. Why are you here? You’re a free man for the next three days. You’re off.” I shrugged. “I decided to come in and help out with the volunteer program.” “Damn, I forgot that was starting

this month. How many knuckled heads do we have this year?” “Three. One girl and two boys.” “Three kids have already set off fire alarms?” “Yep.” He sipped some of his coffee. “Are they all volunteering today?” “No, just one of the boys. He pulled the alarm this week.” “And he’s already going to be at the station to volunteer?” “Yeah. His mother was pissed. She signed him up for two additional days.” I smiled at Kassie’s image filling my head. “Brutal. She sounds like my mom.” Rockstar laughed and then gulped some

more. “Interesting.” I thought about the comparison. “Yeah, Kassie is very similar to Mrs. Patterson. She’s a strong black woman. Good mother, from what I’ve seen. Very determined to follow her dreams. She’s a writer.” I turned to Rockstar. “And she has an hour-glass figure like Mrs. P.” “Don’t make me burn you with this.” He held his coffee cup in mid-air and tossed me an odd look. “Hold up. You sure know a lot about this kid’s mother.” “I don’t know enough.” Rockstar raised his eyebrows. “What?” Kassie’s car pulled up into the

large driveway that hooked around the front. Rockstar said some more things. He probably had more questions for why I’d learned so much about Kassie. I didn’t hear one word he said. It all sounded like incomprehensible noise similar to the teacher in Charlie Brown who’d only say, “Womp Womp Womp.” All real concern for everything around me left. My heart paused in my chest right as she parked the car. When she opened the door, I held in my breath. This was crazy, but I stopped breathing for a minute, ready to see if I hadn’t made a mistake. Was she as amazing as I thought she was, when I first met her? She stepped out of the car.

Damn. She wore baby blue yoga pants and a matching top that hugged her breasts and waist. I forgot how beautiful she is. Her curves killed me. She was so feminine and soft, with hips that arched out and curled like the tops of a heart. She looked like she was heading to the gym and I hoped she didn’t do too much. There were things on that body I wanted to grip as I pumped into her. My dick is already waking up. I should’ve worn jeans. I placed the clipboard in front of my groin. The last thing I needed to do was greet Kassie and her son with a hard-on.

“Oh, hells yes.” Rockstar tried to hand his cup to me. “Hey, Lou. Grab this for me. I think I got this from here. I’m going to greet her and make sure she’s good to go.” I stared at the cup in his hand. “No, you’re on shift. Your focus is Richard.” “Who’s that?” I frowned. “Her son.” We both turned back. Kassie moved to the other side of the car and placed her hands on her hips. She shouldn’t have, but she turned her back to us, and all that ass came into view. “Goddamn,” Rockstar muttered. “Eh,” I might’ve been too firm with the word, but at least I hadn’t knocked him in the head like I wanted to.

“Don’t even look at it.” “It’s pretty damn hard not to see.” Rockstar grinned. “Does she have a thing for firemen?” “Eh. I’m pursuing her.” I tapped his arm so he could see the seriousness in my eyes. “Everyone stays away from her. Don’t even make nice with her, while she’s out here. She’s not a flame groupie. She’s my wife.” “O-kay.” Rockstar edged away. “So. . .what did you say?” “I’m doing my positive manifestation thing. You say what you want and it becomes what you asked for.” “But your wife? You’re trying to marry her?”

Shocked, I shook my head. “No. I didn’t say wife. I said that she’s my. . .I don’t know.” “No, man. You said she’s your wife.” “I didn’t say that.” I turned back to her as she guided Richard toward us. “Wow. You’re really into her. How long have you two been dating?” Rockstar asked. “We haven’t been dating. I just met her a couple of days ago.” “What the fuck?” Rockstar laughed. “How are you going to be pussy whipped before you get the pussy?” “Shut up, man. Don’t curse around them.” “She can’t hear me,” he

whispered. “And can I say that you’re acting like a little teenaged girl?” “Shut up.” Kassie and Richard met us. She avoided my eyes the entire time. I didn’t even try to appear like I was looking away. I concentrated all my attention on her. Everything. The closer she got, my dick went hard as rock. The more I smelled her perfume, the more I wanted her curvy embrace. “Good morning.” She waved at us and nudged Richard forward. “He’s ready to dedicate himself to a life of service, this morning. Isn’t that right?” “Yes.” Richard kept his gaze on the ground. “Hey, man.” I snapped to get his

attention. “It’s not going to be that bad. In fact, if you keep a positive attitude, it might be an awesome experience. We have some fun things to mess with. And if you get the tasks done, I’ll take you to the training section in the far back. We can set some stuff on fire and then, hose it out.” Richard’s face brightened. His words came out with ecstatic glee. “We can set some stuff on fire and put it out?” I turned to see Kassie’s reaction. Horror dotted every inch of her face. She looked like I said that I would slam his head onto the concrete and hack his skull open with an ax. “Well. . . let me talk to your mom about the setting stuff on fire part.”

Richard looked up at her. “Mommy, I’ll be fine.” She waved his comment away. “Let’s just focus on giving back to the firefighters for wasting their time this week and less on setting stuff on fire.” Richard didn’t groan or roll his eyes like most kids would’ve done. Instead, he kept his expression firm and nodded. “Okay, Mommy.” She runs a tight crew. I had better make sure I stay in line. “Hello.” Rockstar extended his hand to her. I knocked it down. “Rockstar, why don’t you take Richard into the living area and put on the fire safety video? Later, I’ll come back there and show him

around the station.” Rockstar snickered and then saluted me. “Yes, sir. Let’s go buddy.” Richard trotted off after Rockstar. Kassie kept her eyes on her son, as if she’d never see him again. “He’ll be fine,” I said. She turned her attention to me. “Setting things on fire?” “You must admit that setting something on fire with a group of firefighters would be the best time for a boy to do it.” “But what if that boy decided that he really loves starting fires?” She crossed her arms around that yummy chest of hers. “What if he continues to do it on his own and hurts himself or other

people?” “What if that boy decides that he doesn’t like setting fires, but he sure enjoys putting them out, and that maybe firefighting is a great career to consider?” She pointed at me. “If something happens to him, I’m coming for you.” With a hard dick, I let out the dark groan that I’d been holding in. “Is that the only way you would come to me?” She opened her mouth and then, sighed. “You’re weird.” “I think Bill Murray said that weird is just a side effect of being awesome.” “Do you always get your life advice from comedians?” “Only when they make me laugh.”

She looked back to watch Rockstar and her son disappear. “I’ll be back in two hours.” “Good. I’ll take care of him. I’m too scared to mess this up with you. He’ll be my top priority for these next two hours. There won’t be one scratch. Your lovely, healthy boy will still be that when you return.” I bet she battled with her face to maintain that unconcerned frown, but after a few seconds, a smile couldn’t help but spread across her face. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered. The frown returned as she cleared her throat. “So. . .I’m going to work out. I’m at the YMCA down the street. If you need me for anything, call.”

“For anything?” I couldn’t stop flirting with her. “Is this what you do with all the volunteer parents, flirt and call them up late at night?” “No, I’ve been saving all of this unprofessional and inappropriate behavior for you.” I bowed in front of her. “You’re welcome.” Again, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. However, I could’ve sworn she blushed as she turned around and walked away. I might’ve growled or emitted something close to another dark groan. I couldn’t help it. That ass of hers came back into my view, lush, full, and jiggling with each step in her yoga pants. “Do you always dress like that

when you go to the gym?” I called back. “Are you insulting my workout gear?” she said over her shoulder as she continued to head to the car. “No. I like this outfit. I’m now thinking about joining the YMCA. I need to work out.” “No. You don’t.” She arrived at her car. “Your body would probably cause a lot of envy in the poor guys at my gym. You should probably stick to stalking me at the fire station.” “And your phone,” I added. She shook her head and got inside the car. I’m glad she didn’t realize I wasn’t on duty today. That would have been weird.

Richard’s two hours passed with no problem. I’d already had it in my head that I would love the kid, and that was what happened. One couldn’t hate a boy with manners, especially a young person growing up in this day and age where every song called women bitches or disloyal hoes and most reality shows projected similar thoughts. I didn’t have a son, so it was fun to knock him around a few times and go berserk out in the training field. After I’d given him the tour and explained my typical day, we really did go into the training section and burn some shit up. I couldn’t help myself. My twins were seriously girly. They kept me in touch with my feminine side. Richard

was my sort of kid—rough around the edges, but smooth and balanced when it counted. Rockstar had hung with us all day, too. No jobs had come up. The whole morning remained peaceful. However, we might’ve gone too crazy. Richard was drenched from head to toe, even his sneakers sloshed around as we headed back. I might’ve sprayed him a few times for fun. We might’ve played too much with the water, dousing out imaginary flames and even drawing out our names in front of the trucks. After his time was up, we waited outside for Kassie to come. “I think I want to be a firefighter.” Richard placed my hat on his hat. It was

an extra one I kept around in the sleeping quarters. “His mother is going to curse you out.” Rockstar brought towels out for him. “I promised to keep him safe.” I hoped I gave a convincing smile. “I never said that he would be dry and clean.” Rockstar laughed at us both. “I’m not waiting out here with you both. I’ll end up getting a whipping, too.” “Hey, we’re not afraid.” I roared and hit my chest. “We’re men!” “Men!” Richard yelled and then, he smiled. “Plus, Mommy won’t whip me. She’s nonviolent.” “Oh yeah?” My interests piqued.

“That’s really cool. So how do you get disciplined?” “She takes away stuff and sometimes, I have to clean and do extra chores. I hate it. I would rather get a whipping.” I laughed. “Hey, count your blessings. Whippings are no joke. Be happy she’s found alternative ways to teach you hard lessons.” “Yeah.” “See you two later. I’m going to get some last minute studying in, before the day really begins.” Rockstar glanced at my drenched shirt and chuckled. “Oooooo, you’re in trouuuble!” “Just go study for your exams and leave me alone.”

Richard looked at me. “You have to study, when you’re a firefighter?” “All the time. There’s always new technology. New ways to start fires and new ways to put them out. However, Rockstar is trying to get to my awesome level of Lieutenant. It requires a good bit of time in the books and serious dedication. It takes most people years.” “Cool. Did it take you long?” he asked. “It took a decent amount of time, but not as long as most.” I winked at him. “I’m basically the most amazing man in the world.” Laughter poured out of Richard while he sloshed around in his sneakers. “Could you teach me some more

firefighter slang?” “Sure.” I raced my mind for some appropriate things that wouldn’t get him or me into trouble. “Leather Lungs is one. Some of the veterans like to show us young guys how it’s really done, so they’ll go into a fire without wearing their SCBA equipment. It’s not wise. So, although they think they’re showing everyone how courageous they are, they end up coughing and blowing out black snot from their noses for a good week. You see, no matter what age you are, you should always follow the rules. Growing up doesn’t mean you follow less orders. You actually end up doing even more of what people say.” “That sucks.”

I shrugged. “Enjoy the free rent and meals now, buddy.” He kicked a rock in front of him. “What else?” “A job is called a working fire.” “Job,” he mouthed the word and smiled. “Remember the Halligan bar and flat head axe I showed you?” “Yeah.” He nodded. “Those are irons.” Kassie pulled up in her car. By the time she parked and jumped out, tension had built in my neck. I hope she isn’t pissed that I got him wet. “Rich! This is an interesting new look.” Surprisingly, she widened her

lips to a big smile. “So. . .I’m thinking you did start some fires and put them out.” “It was so awesome!” Richard ran up to her with my hat still on his head. “I’m totally going to be a firefighter one day. Lou, says it’s a lot of work and studying, but to never go in a fire without equipment because your lungs will turn to leather.” “Interesting.” She giggled. “Sounds like some serious science happening in this field.” “Yes.” Richard handed me back the towel that Rockstar had given him. “Say thank you to. . .Lou.” She pointed behind her. “And then, head to the car, please.”

“Thanks, Lou! See you next Saturday.” He sped off. “Be careful.” She frowned. “Cool guy.” I laughed. She brought her focus back to me and it made my whole body warm. “Are you the one that got him wet?” “That depends on two things.” I held up two fingers. “Will I get in trouble and will the punishment feel good?” “No, you won’t get in trouble. You said he would be safe, not dry.” I chuckled. “That’s exactly what I thought when I hosed him down.” “I bet he loved that.” “He did.” I drank in her sexy curves. “How was your workout?”

“Good.” I practically growled the words out, “Nice and sweaty?” Damn it. Why can’t I control myself around her? Stop taking this to the sex level. I figured she’d curse me out, but instead a blush came on her face. “Yes,” she said. “Nice and sweaty, but I won’t need you to hose me down.” “Hmmm,” I groaned. She bit her lip and I bet she was thinking the same thing I was. It all hit my mind in an erotic flash—her wet, naked body slipping against mine. I would touch every inch of her flesh with my fingers, squeezing the curves and lapping my tongue at her center.

I might not take my time. I want her too much. Fuck. Patience. Be patient. She’s worth the wait. Heat blazed over my skin and I had to force myself to stay where I stood. Her nipples hardened under her thin top and I craved to pinch them, lick and devour them. They were only a few feet away. A few seconds away from being in my mouth. Stay calm. Don’t forget the plan. I cleared my throat. “So, you’re busy today?” “What?” She breathed in and out before saying another word. You’re unraveling. Aren’t you? “What are you and Richard doing today?” I asked.

“Why?” “I wanted to invite you both to the beach. The guys and I get together with our families on our off days. Today, it’s the Siesta Key.” “But it’s not your off day. Won’t you be working the rest of the day?” I hoped she wouldn’t ask because I didn’t want to start this off with lies, so I admitted it, “I’m off, today.” She raised her eyebrows. “So why did you come in?” “Because, I wanted to see you.” She backed up, as if I’d hit her. “Oh.” “That’s right.” “What?” She widened her eyes. “That’s right. I know what’s on

your mind. You think I’m crazy.” “No. Not crazy, just persistent.” “I’m more than that. This isn’t a game for me. I’m not one of those guys that do this for sport. I’m interested in getting to know you and your son.” “I’m. . .” she said nothing else. “You’re not ready. I know.” “Either way, you seem like a nice guy, but you’re really wasting your time.” “How about you let me decide when I should feel that way. For now, just let me pursue you.” “Pursue me?” “Yes, Pursue. Hunt. Catch. Seek. Follow, track, and chase.” I stepped closer to her. “Let me decide, when I

should stop. Please, come to the beach. It will be a lot of fun and Richard will have a blast.” “I don’t know. I’m a writer. I have to write.” “The beach is good for inspiration.” For some reason, it made her laugh and then, she said, “You’re right about that. The beach is good for inspiration.” “What?” I asked. “Nothing.” “I want to see you today,” I said again. “That’s clear.” “Then come.” “I. . .” “I’ll text you the address and

where we’ll be.” “Maybe.” “I don’t like maybes. I like clear answers.” “Too bad.” Damn you, curvy woman! You’re really going to make me work? “I’m a nice guy.” “Yes, you are.” I gestured to the golden sun rays, caressing the few fluffy clouds in the pale blue sky. “Damn. Look at this day. It’s—” “Great for a beach day?” “Yes.” “You’re persistent, Lorenzo.” “I am.” “That wasn’t a question, Mr. Ego.

It was a statement.” She glanced back at Richard as he sat in the car. “I have to go.” “I will see you at the beach, then?” And then that sexy woman sighed and moaned my name, “Lorenzo.” “Hmmm.” “Hmmm?” She raised her eyebrows. “Trust me. You want me to behave. You want me to be good. So when I say hmmm, just go with it.” “And would I like what’s behind that hmmm?” “Yes, very much. So much, you’d beg for it every night.” Her gaze danced around my body. Heat warmed her eyes.

Yes, sexy. My hose isn’t sounding like such a bad idea. Is it? “I don’t know about the beach,” she whispered to me. Fear dangled on each word. “You would be in public. Safe. Our kids would be there. Mine, as well as my friends’. We’re all trained in mouth-to-mouth—” “I bet you are,” she blurted out and then hid her face. “I’m sorry.” “No. That’s good.” “I have to go.” She backed up and couldn’t keep that silly grin off of her face. You’re fucking sexy and adorable. “Kassie, I swear I will behave. It’s a family event and a great way to meet

new people in the community. Good people.” She looked off in the distance as if she was seriously thinking about those last statements. It signaled to me that she probably hadn’t made friends yet. She nodded. “Maybe.” I guess that’s better than nothing. “Okay. I’ll text you the information and then, wait out by the lonely ocean, hoping for my maiden to come to me.” “Just because I write romance, doesn’t mean I’ll fall for any corny line.” “I’m corny?” She looked me down from head to toe and licked her lips. “You’re definitely something.”

You’re playing with fire. I really hope you want to be burned. Fuck. I’m about to explode myself. Forgetting about what the towel was holding, I slung it over my shoulder, trying to look cool. Instead, I displayed my massive hard-on. At first, I was going to mumble about several apologies, but then she just. . .stared. Dear, God. She just gazed at my dick like she would beg for it, if she had to. It made me crazy inside. Even more erect and out of control. My hands hoped to grip that ass. My tongue drooled at playing with her clit. I bet she got real wet. Creamy. Dripping and juicy. I had to have her. Then her nipples poked out from

her shirt. Damn. I couldn’t turn away and licked my lips. She followed my gaze’s direction and guarded them with her arms. “Yeah. I have to go.” A dark grown escaped me as I made no move to hide my erection. “Have a good day, Kassie.” Quickly, she bobbed her head without saying anything and rushed away--like I’d told her I had a gun and wanted to rape her. You had better run. I didn’t think I could keep my hands away from her breasts or ass any longer. I bet her pussy was wet in her panties, just yearning for me to taste her. She hurried away and her ass jiggled more. Damn, you. My dick stayed brick

hard and I had to guard it with the towel while she and her son drove away. I’m a fucking degenerate. Every time I see her I get a hard-on like a teenager. And now she probably thinks I can’t control myself. Well. . .I can’t.

Chapter 9 Kassie Really,

Lorenzo? Was showing me your erection necessary? Did he mean to do that? What is wrong with him? I kept picturing it in my mind. Must he be so. . . so fucking irresistible. The length looked nice and long. There was also a pleasant thickness. I imagined gripping it in my hand and stroking the tip to his balls. How do they look? Really? Why would I care how balls look? Still, I painted them in my head and right under I traced my opened mouth, lifting up to them and sticking out my tongue.

Must I be so nasty? I didn’t write anything new that day. “You would be in public,” he’d said. “Safe. Kids would be there.” His words and his erection played in my mind while I sat in my home office. Rich ducked his head inside. “Mom?” “Yes?” “Are you going to write all day?” “Uh. . .no.” In fact, I haven’t written at all. I’m just sitting here thinking of bouncing up and down on your favorite fireman. I’m so freaking twisted. What’s wrong with me? I’m horny -- that’s

what it is. “Can we go out to the park or something later?” Rich asked. “Sure.” I returned to my computer and typed some things, but nothing really worked. My phone buzzed. I checked the number and rolled my eyes. My exhusband had texted me. Ellis: What’s the address? Me: When are you coming? Ellis: Do you have something to hide? What’s the address? You fucking asshole. I set the phone back down on my desk and tried to returning Luna. “Mommy, which park?” “Huh?” I went back to Luna and

played with a few scenes. Nothing really worked. Anger over Ellis rose in me a little. My fingers started to touch the wrong keys as the annoyance continued to surge through me. Rich tapped the side of my doorway repeatedly. “Which park?” My phone buzzed again. I checked it. Ellis: You’ve got twenty-four hours to give me your home address or I’m calling the cops to report that you’ve kidnapped our son. I know you don’t want that. What the hell is wrong with you? I set the phone back down. I’d gone to law school, too. Granted, I was

on probation, but Ellis had no claim to call the cops and bother me up in Sarasota. I laughed a little. I bet it’s eating you up inside that I can ignore you because you’re a nonfactor in my life. Okay. Now, back to Luna. I went back to that damn fire circle and still there was nothing. “Mommy?” Rich’s tapping shifted to bangs. “Which park?” Will no one leave me alone for a few minutes? “Which park what?” I paused and turned to him. “Which park are we going to?” “Jesus! I don’t know. I’m writing.” I tried to reign in my attitude, but it

must’ve still shown. Rich frowned, turned away, and headed off. “Okay, Mommy.” And the Best Mother award goes to anybody not named Kassandra Jones. I went back to my computer and stared at the screen. Guilt hit me, and then it went away as Lorenzo’s face flashed in my head. My phone buzzed again, and this time I was ready to unload all my anger onto Ellis. If he wanted to battle, then, baby, I was ready. Fuck Luna and writing. Time to curse out my ex. I picked the phone up and checked the text. Lorenzo: I enjoyed our

conversation this morning. You’re an amazing woman. I smiled and texted him back. Me: Thank you. Lorenzo: Please, come to Siesta Key. I swear. I’ll be on my best behavior. I pictured his sexy face and sighed. “Yes, Kassie. Pursue. Hunt. Catch. Seek. Follow, track, and chase. Let me decide, when I should stop.” I glanced to the screen at my heroine. My poor Luna remained in that fire circle. Unsure if she should let her walls down. The creature was too evil to give him a second look, but still, deep inside of her core, she begged for a second look. A longer one. A moment at

least filled with the demon slipping in and out of her. “I wanted to invite you both to the beach. The guys and I get together with our families on our off days. Today, it’s the Siesta Key.” I didn’t know how I could give Luna her happiness. Surely, my heroine couldn’t go after the villain. “Hey, Rich,” I yelled out. A bored tone followed the word, “Yes, Mommy?” “Do you want to go to the beach?” The next word sliced through the air. “Yes!” “Okay.” I tapped my feet over and over, unsure if I was making a crazy mistake. “Get ready. We’re going to the

beach.” I stared at the blank computer screen for another few minutes, before I finally decided to get dressed and head to the beach. Okay. Mama Ganga says I’m fearful. Time to try being fearless. It’s just the beach. Sand. Water. Sky. And no demons. . .I think. It took us an hour to get ready, packed, and on our way in the car. Another hour, after driving in the wrong way and messing up a turn. One should never text while driving, and I proved that point several times as I typed to Lorenzo I was coming. He proceeded to carry on a long conversation and I continued to get lost.

By the time, we made it to the beach Richard had been close to dozing off and nervous jitters swarmed in my gut. Oh shit! What am I doing? I’ve lost it. I’ve really lost it this time. Can I cancel? No. Rich already thinks we’re going. Maybe I can say I’m sick. Oh shut up and just do it! Just. . .freaking Nike shoe you’re way through the situation. Sighing, I jumped out of the car and waited for Rich to get out on the other side. During the ride, he’d been talking about a movie he’d seen. I’d appointed him my official fantasy and science fiction researcher. He had to keep up with all of the new and

intriguing worlds and plot lines, letting me know about any of the cool ones to trigger some inspiration in my head. “Mommy, you really have to see it,” he yelled from the other side. “It sounds interesting.” I quickly checked my reflection in my car window and hoped I looked like the woman I saw. I am beautiful, right now. I am worthy of success. I am love. I wore a black crocheted swimsuit. It had a low-rise bottom, but with great rear coverage. One of the biggest things I needed, when buying anything was something to conceal my bottom. The garment had to hide some of it, at least. I look good.

The crocheted fabric created a swirled pattern from the bottom to the top, providing bits of skin when possible. I’d spent a lot of gym time trying to get into that little thing. I’d worked hard for that right. Today would be a great debut. A flirty sundress finished off the look. I wasn’t even sure if I would take the dress off. I think I just wore the swimsuit underneath to give me a bit of sexy courage. I hope he likes it. Wait. No. I don’t. I couldn’t care less. Yes. I don’t care. This Lorenzo is not important, at all. I merely want to go to the beach and see a bomb sunset. Who cares if he’s . . .oh who am I kidding? Stress bit at my shoulders as I

drove us to Nokomis beach. What the hell am I doing? Okay. He’s hot. I’ll admit that. I think he would be great to date. Sure. But. . .He wants me to meet his twins? What is that all about? Maybe, I’m worrying too much. How would I know how normal people deal with each other? I’ve been out of the game for so long. “. . .and then the dragon blew away the girl and it was like boom!” Rich screamed. I jumped. “Okay. So cool.” “And the princess was like, “Oh no you didn’t, big guy!” “Cool.” I hoped that Rich said nothing too important, because my mind remained on Lorenzo. A black Irish

firefighter who hoped to douse out my flames with his hose. And oh, boy did I wonder about that hose, so much that I took a few turns and might’ve ignored the GPS. “Wow!” Rich stepped on the powdery white sand with me. “I love it here.” “Already?” “Yes. I think the beaches here are better than Miami.” “Me too. Is this city growing on you?” “A little. I just wish I could be in the same place with daddy.” The nervousness over Lorenzo switched to stress over my son. “Don’t worry. Your father is getting it together.

Soon, it won’t matter what city you live in, he’ll make sure he sees you all of the time.” I hoped my words would be true one day. Just as I was about to text Lorenzo and see where they’d camped out, he messaged me. Lorenzo: Please, tell me that’s you in the white sun dress. I laughed. Me: Yes, that’s me. I think. Lorenzo: Ur so beautiful. Even far away, you made me turn my head. Me: Where are you? Lorenzo: I’m coming to you. Nervous giggles fled my lips. He was so dramatic, even more than me.

Wasn’t it bad enough that he could see me, but I couldn’t see him? Wasn’t it bad enough that I’d been claiming that I was done with men, but now excited to be around him for a few minutes? Wasn’t it bad enough that he made me giddy and intrigued, horny and fearful all in one huge swoop? Then a dark sound came from my side. “Kassie.” I turned to him. Rich rushed his way and tried to hi-five him. He’d had Lorenzo’s hat on his head the rest of the day, refusing to take the thing off. Rich waved. “Hey, Lou!” As if finally realizing my son stood on the beach with us, he blinked and looked down to Rich. “Hey, buddy. I see

you’re taking great care of my hat.” “Yeah, Mom wanted me to keep it at home, but I said I couldn’t.” “Yeah. . .” Lorenzo looked like he was going to say something else, but then, returned his attention back to me. “You look. . .” “Thank you.” I grinned and tried to fix my face, but nothing would work. Why did he do this to me? Lorenzo continued to stare. Uneasiness hit me. Sighing, I shifted my weight to my other foot and pointed behind him. “So, where did you all camp out?” Lorenzo blinked again. “What?” “Where’s everybody?” I asked. “Oh.” He ran his hand over that

smooth tanned head and lead us off to a crystal blue ocean where several bulky men pranced around and danced while the black guy from earlier strummed his guitar. “Oh, cool. I see you have some entertainment.” I kept my pace with Lorenzo’s while Rich rushed in front of us. “Rockstar had to cover half of somebody’s shift today. The guy came back and relieved him so, he decided to provide us with some tunes.” We got closer and I caught some of the notes. “Fire and flames. Fire and flames.” Rockstar had a mellow voice and he had a keen awareness to sound.

“It’s on and off again. Fire and flames. Will we be together? Can it ever be the same? It’s on and off again. Fire and flames.” “Did he write that?” I glanced at Lorenzo and caught him checking out my hips. My skin buzzed with energy. I would’ve done anything to have him hold my fingers or touch me. Being near him was making me horny. But I tried to play it off. Hoped to stay strong. “Really?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re just going to ogle me?” “What? Oh, I’m sorry.” He rubbed his own eyes and tried to take erase the smile from his face. “That’s DeShawn!” Rich yelled out and pointed to a boy kicking a beach

ball near the shore. “Who’s DeShawn?” I asked. “He’s in my class,” Rich mumbled something else and sped off. “Eh!” “Oh!” Rich paused and turned back to me. “Can I go over there and play with him?” “Yes, but stay where I can see you.” “And our names will explode, and our love will be untold.” Rockstar’s strumming sped up. “And I’ll love you until the end. Even if it’s more a sin. Fire and flames.” Lorenzo pointed to the boys. “I forgot that Brady’s son DeShawn goes to Rich’s school. That’s cool that they

ended up in the same class together.” “Yeah.” I kept my attention on Rich as we continued toward the group of firefighters. Several good-looking women sat near them. And almost all of them wore bathing suits that would make mine appear professional. Well, at least, I won’t be too sexy and underdressed. These girls are rocking these tiny bikinis. Love it. “Oh, baby. Fire and flames. Will I ever love again?” Rockstar’s voice filled the air as he began to hold each lyric a little bit longer, making them rise and fall into a lovely melody. “Fire and flames. Will our hearts ever see an end? Fire and flames.” “He really can sing.” I put my

focus back on Lorenzo. Once again, my fire starter was checking out my form. Heat blazed all over me. “You’re a wicked pervert,” I whispered. “I’m starting to learn that about myself.” He sighed. “And trust me, it’s not like I’ve never seen a woman before. I just see something. . .I just see something more, when I look at you.” “You’re just a butt man.” I tried to play it off. “Let’s not make it any deeper than what it is.” “But it is deep.” He bit his lip and glanced at my bottom again. “So deep. Is it? Fuck. Don’t answer that. In fact, let’s pretend like I didn’t even say that. You

were talking about deep conversation, and here I am. . .let’s move on to something else.” I blushed. “Agreed.” Tons of kids ran around all of us. Lots of them worked on sand sculptures. I spotted a huge hut off in the right with an elaborate moat glittering with seashells. Two little girls were the artists. They continued their excavation, shoveling up white sand and smoothing a path that flowed with water. “Those are my twins.” Lorenzo gestured to the girls I’d been staring at. I checked out their faces. Both had Lorenzo’s hazel eyes, but skin almost as dark as mine. Their hair hung over their heads in huge bushels of pony tails. They

had the good stuff. Those thick, strong black strands that could deal with anything that came close to it. I bet Lorenzo spent many weekends combing and detangling their lovely manes. “They’re adorable,” I said. “Thank you. They keep me busy, but my sisters help out, a lot.” “You’re lucky.” “I’m blessed.” I gave him an odd look. “What?” he asked. “Nothing.” “It must’ve been something. You had a weird expression on your face.” “I was just wondering if you were super religious,” I said. “I’m not really that spiritual, but I

try to go to church when I’m off. It’s good for the girls, at least that’s what my mother says every Sunday when she’s dragging me and them there. I don’t pray as often as I should, except when I’m in the middle of a fire, but I do pray.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I believe there’s something greater than me.” “That’s deep.” “Very deep for a first date.” “Wait a minute.” I waved my hand. “This isn’t a first date.” “Of course not.” He walked me over to a large orange blanket with a large blue umbrella, providing shade. A big wicker picnic basket sat at the foot. “I made several ham and cheese sandwiches. Then, I wasn’t sure if you

ate pork. So, I made a couple of turkey ones. There’s also fruit and chocolate —” “You made this for me?” “Well,” he rubbed his hands together as if giving himself something to do. “I don’t know. I could come up with a rational reason, but the fact remains that I’m trying to impress you. So, yes. I made this for you, hoping you would come. Are you impressed?” “Yes.” “Good.” He gave me his hand. “Please, sit down.” I checked on Rich, again. He’d made his way to the little boy and they were now kicking the ball back and forth, and apparently doing some sort of

Kung Fu kick flips as they did it. Boys are so weird. “He’s fine,” Lorenzo said. “Yeah.” I glanced at Rich one more time and sat down. “I didn’t realize how much he would love the beach. I have to bring him out here some more.” “I have the twins out here at least twice a week. Think of the beach this way. It’s a massive playground that is sure to provide four hours of entertainment and it’s completely free. I get the girls back home and their covered in sweat and sand, and completely exhausted.” “Good times.” I winked at him. “Good times.” He opened the basket. “What would you like?”

“I’m actually not hungry. I cooked before we left.” “What did you make?” I stretched my legs out and drew circles in the sand with my toes. “Thai coconut shrimp soup and basmati rice.” He shut the basket back. “Damn. You’re a good cook, too.” “No. I can’t cook, but I can follow a recipe.” He frowned. “Don’t do that.” “What?” I paused from my circles. “Don’t lower your worth.” I rolled my eyes. “Are you about to hit me with another Dr. Phil act?” He chuckled to himself. “Probably. I’m a Virgo. We tend to know everything there is about everything. The good thing

about me is that you can tell me to shut up, and I’ll listen. Should I be quiet?” “No. You’re fine.” “Either way. You’re a good cook. Don’t diminish it. Not many people decide to throw together a Thai Coconut Shrimp soup on a lazy Saturday afternoon. I bet it tasted good.” There was something about the way he said those words and gazed at my lips. “I bet it tasted. . .amazing.” My breathing grew heavy. “It did.” “You’re beautiful, Kassie.” I shouldn’t have, but I blurted it out, “I love it, when you say that to me.” “Good, I’ll make sure to tell you that every day.” “You’re going to be calling me,

every day?” “Or visiting.” “You don’t have my address.” “This is a small, beach town, Kassandra Jones.” “You’re being creepy, again. How should I deal with that?” “I’m not sure. I’m usually not this creepy with women.” He winked. “I’m usually pulling them off of me.” I crossed my legs. “I bet.” “You’re beautiful. Jesus.” He shook his head and cursed under his breath. “Anyway. . .so I want to read something you’ve written?” “No way.” “I can’t read any of your works?” “No. You’ll know too much about

me.” “Hmmm.” He pulled out his phone and began messing around with it. “What are you doing?” “Searching for your books.” “Hey! Don’t do that.” I tried to grab the phone from him. He blocked my hands. “No. I must find out everything there is to know about you.” I laughed. “You might not like what you read.” He held the phone high in the air and kept my arms down with the other hand. “I bet I’ll get addicted to your words just like everybody else.” After a few more seconds, he released my arms and tapped some more

into his device. “There we go. I’ve bought three books.” “Oh, God. Which ones?” I covered my face with my hands. “Hot Seduction, The Nanny, and The Wench’s Tail.” “Just awesome.” Embarrassment blazed all over my face. “Those are my freakiest books.” “I know.” He beamed. “These books were recommended on the. . .” He checked the blog’s name. “This is Slutty Reader’s top three picks.” He shook his head. “Women and their books. You all can be such nasty creatures when you’re alone with words.” “Words do make people nasty.” “Yes. They do.” He turned off his

phone and set it on top of the basket. “I’ll have some hot reading tonight, while I lounge in my bubble bath, stroking my little duck.” “Wow. That’s so good I’m going to use that for a character’s dialogue.” “The hero or heroine?” “The villain.” “Ouch.” He fake pouted. Rich raced over to our blanket, getting a little sand on my legs. “Mom, can I go with DeShawn to the sand bar?” “Uh.” I twisted my lips to the side and rose to see where it was. Far out, people stood on top of it several feet from the shore. “I don’t know.” “But DeShawn can swim and I can swim and—”

I stopped him before he continued his argument. “Still, let me just come out there with you two.” I pulled off the straps to my dress. The fabric fell to my feet. I’d forgotten about the sexy swimsuit I had on. I could’ve sworn Lorenzo cursed behind me. By the time I turned his way, he’d jumped up and yanked off his shirt. “I’m coming, too” Lorenzo announced. “We’ll be fine.” I stepped out of the dress. The breeze blew against my flesh and tickled me. God, this is a really beautiful day. Rich had already rushed off to the water. His friend stood on the edge, gripping two small surf boards. Once my

son got to him, he handed the incredible hulk board to him and they dove into the crystal blue, paddling with their hands and racing to the sand bar. “Rich, hold up!” I rushed their way, not wanting too much distance between us. I’d lost a good friend to water. My childhood buddy, Keo, had died at the age of eight. The whole situation had never sat well with me. Kids weren’t supposed to die so fast and so easily. At one moment, him, four other kids, and I had been playing next to a pool. My mother called us in. We all ran that way, never looking behind us. In those moments, Keo had slipped in. No one knew when. But it didn’t matter. He couldn’t swim.

That summer, the whole neighborhood made it a point to teach all the kids how to swim. I kept that theory in my head, when I became a mom. Rich knew the breast stroke by five years old. By now, he could outrace me in the water. But that still didn’t keep my heart from booming fast in my chest, whenever he got too close to the dangerous sea. “You’ve got a good soul,” Mama Ganga had said, “But you’re all types of broken. I can smell the fear coming off you like you haven’t washed in days.” I raced toward them. Panic hit my heart, even though I knew my son could swim and would probably be fine. But life wasn’t so predictable anymore. I’d

forgotten that when I married, and I’d relearned it the hard way. Lorenzo’s words came out soft and with no judgments. “They’re going to be fine, and we’ll be right next to them, just in case.” “Yes.” “Everything is fine.” The tension left my chest. “Yes, it is,” I whispered and exhaled. The boys hadn’t gone too far. Their little legs slowed the surfboards down more than propelled them forward. Thankfully, Lorenzo never said anything else. He kept my pace. My husband Ellis would’ve just waved my worry away and yelled that Rich would

be fine. He never understood the seriousness of situations. Sometimes, it was okay to use a careful eye. By the time we got in, the cool water tingled against my toes. It was a perfect match with the warm sun and sand. Silently, Lorenzo trailed behind me, watching my every move and then checking back at the boys every now and then. Once we got within five feet of the boys, I stayed back to give Rich some room. Although, I was a hovering mother, I did my best to pretend that he had some sense of freedom. Lorenzo broke the silence. “You’re a fast runner.” “I’ve been working on my time.”

“Are you a good swimmer too?” he asked. “Definitely.” He gestured to Rich. “He looks like he knows his way around the water.” “He does.” He raised his eyebrows. “Did you lose someone to drowning?” Shocked, I walked further into the ocean. The waves rose to my hips. “How did you know?” “You just seemed extra careful and aware, once your son decided to swim. My mother was like that. She lost her brother.” “That’s so sad.” “Yeah. They were kids when it

happened.” He touched his chest. “She named me after him.” “Well, I love your name.” “Thank you.” He then proceeded to paint me with his gaze. “That swimsuit is. . .” “Beautiful?” “No. It’s a clear fire violation. I’m actually wondering if I’m going to write you a citation or just take you straight to jail.” “Well, I don’t want to get into trouble.” “You should’ve thought about that before you decided to put that bikini on.” “It’s not a bikini.” I dragged my fingertips around the crocheted design that held the bottom and top together.

“That’s not fabric. That’s just hints of a pretty pattern on sexy skin. This suit might cause you future problems.” “Oh, no.” I winked at him. “Then, should I take the swim suit off?” Words left him. A stunned expression fell on his face, and I laughed for the next couple of minutes as I walked away, further into the water and closer to the boys. A low groan came from behind me. “Hmmm.”

Chapter 10 Lorenzo We

played in the ocean. Rich, DeShawn, Kassie, and I. She really knew how to have fun. Her laugh rose in the air, flooded out the crash of the waves, and set me on fire. She was amazing. The full package. A beautiful face, but something loving and constantly rising within her. She possessed splendor within. This woman had more to offer than seductive moans and soft flesh. And her curves. My God. I gritted my teeth a lot to keep my hands off of her. I prayed for strength and hoped the universe heard me. She had rich brown

skin that made you want to caress it on a lazy Sunday afternoon. I wanted to spend hours upon hours massaging her softness on a day, when life stood still, and it rained hard and cold outside while we were safe and warm in bed. No one to bother us or call out our names. Kassie splashed water on me. “What are you thinking about?” The sun dipped low beyond the horizon brushing the sky with flurries of dark gold and fire red. Darkness hover above us and the stars danced across the blackness perfectly. Water rippled around us, and appeared more like a mirror than something fluid and constantly in motion. It looked like black glass and I

couldn’t help but lick my lips each time it waved against Kassie’s stunning skin. Drops splattered her flesh. Her damn bathing suit displayed succulent skin and hid the parts of her I yearned to see. That damn swimsuit had me drooling all day as we played around in the sun. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. Anytime I could bump against her softness and brush her skin, I did. “Lorenzo?” She splashed me again. “Yes, Beautiful?” “What are you thinking about?” she asked. “Things that we shouldn’t be talking about right now.” Drums beat off in the distance.

The drum circle had formed right before sunset, luring the kids to the interesting sights. Hippies from all over the area grabbed their drums and fire torches, guitars and incense. They wore flowers in their hair and peace signs dangling from their waists. Like gypsies, their skirts flowed around and around and the men’s pants slipped against the sand as they hopped to the tempo. Religiously, they came to the beach to pound a rhythmic sound to the sun and remind us all about that constant harmonious connection to nature. Weed smoke usually filled the air. I didn’t like the drug use, but everyone always remained calm and peaceful, so I left them all alone.

My twins had come over to us and pulled the boys away. Hope stared at Kassie for several uncomfortable minutes. I had no idea what ran through her mind, but after she looked Kassie over, she smiled, nodded at me, and rushed off with the rest. The kids now danced with the drums. Their shadows pranced around along the fire torches that outlined most of the musicians. For some reason, Kassie remained with me in the water. I couldn’t believe my luck. Somehow, I’d broken through a few of her walls. She’d decided to let me in for a few minutes, if only to spend some time in the courtyard of her heart and walk around.

“I’m happy you came to the beach today,” I said. “Thanks for inviting me.” “I would love it, if you came again.” “I might,” she said. “You will.” “I may.” “You will.” “Do you always get what you want?” she asked. “No, I just pray really hard, put my dreams out into the universe, and hope to God that I get it.” I twirled my finger in the water. “What are you doing Sunday?” “Writing.” “You write every day?”

“I try.” “You do,” I declared. “And you will.” “Oh, God. You’re serious.” She laughed. “Anyway, what’s going on tomorrow?” “Rockstar is the guy that you met earlier today.” “Mr. Fire and Flames?” “Yes, he was singing too, and please don’t ever say that to him. His ego is big enough.” “It should be. He’s talented.” “Don’t tell him that, either. Anyway,” I traced more lines into the water. “His mother started up a community garden with her church. Everyone in the city basically followed

suit. Then, the grants came. It’s been going on for about eight years. She’s holding a harvest party, tomorrow afternoon. It’s a great family event with lots of good food and people.” “A community garden?” She smiled. “Yeah. She convinced her church to buy up a block of abandoned drug houses. It took us all a good year to tear everything down, clear the rubble, and level the ground with fertile soil. Now, anyone who lives in Sarasota can have a small plot to grow some fresh fruit and vegetables. We try to promote the garden a lot in the poorer areas. Gardening is good for the kids. It teaches them the power of nature and the fun in hard

work.” She tossed me a funny look. “What?” “You’re. . .good.” “Good?” I asked. “You sound like a good man.” “I am.” “I’m just saying.” “You’re wondering what’s wrong with me. What I could be hiding behind all the nice things?” “Yes.” “So.” I shrugged. “You want to hear all of my flaws?” “Maybe.” No, Brown Sugar. I know you’re scared, but you’re going to ask for everything that you want me to give to

you. Even this dick, you beautiful fucking temptress. Maybe?” I moved in closer to her. “Are you ready to hear my flaws or not? Are you ready to admit that you’re interested in learning about me, maybe even dating me?” She inched back. “Maybe.” “No. Not maybe. Say it,” I growled. “Tell me what you want.” She sighed. “I want to hear all of your flaws.” “Why?” I asked. “Because, I may be interested in dating you, one day.” “No.” I shook my head. “You want to date me. It might be too soon, so, I’ll be the adult for both of us, and try to take

it slow. You feel what’s going on between us, and you can’t ignore it, no matter how much you try. And all day, you wanted my hands all over you as much as I craved to touch you myself.” “Uh. . .” “I want to get to know you.” She exhaled. “Okay. Me too, but. . .” “I’ll make sure we take it slow.” The next word came out low. “Okay.” I tried to look into her eyes, but she hid them from me and the moonlight kept them a secret. “Are we dating?” “We are. . .talking about possibly dating.” “Okay.”

Finally, she turned her gaze up to me. “What are your flaws?” You’re so scared, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I’ll show you how good love can be. “Here we go,” I said. “I’ve got a temper. It’s taken years for me to keep it together, but I don’t like when people bother someone I care about. I don’t if they fuck with me, but anyone I love, and it’s a serious problem. My temper has never landed me in jail or in any real fights in my adult life, but. . .either way. I’m also a control freak, but I’ve been learning to get a lot of that out on the job. Plus, my twins try my patience enough that I’ve grown a lot these past years.” She giggled. “Wait until puberty.”

“I’m going to pretend like I never heard that. I’ve delivered several faithful prayers to God and believe that he will answer my hope of them never seeing puberty.” “I hope that works out for you.” “It will.” She giggled some more. “I also give out more advice than people want to hear. Additionally, I push too hard, when I really want something.” “These flaws aren’t that bad.” “Should I go deeper?” I stepped so close to her in the water so that our bodies smoothed against each other. Her breathing increased. I could feel her heart beating loudly between us. She whispered, “What else?”

My dick grew hard with those low, sexy words. “I’m a freak, but in the most passionate sense of the word.” The moonlight glowed along her skin. “Tell me more,” she said. “More flaws?” “No.” The word came out in a low moan. “Tell me more about how you’re a bad little freak.” “There’s nothing little about me, Kassie.” I gently pressed against her and pulled back, to keep myself calm. Her skin was as soft as I had imagined. “I would caress every inch of you with my tongue and I would take my sweet time doing it. Your moans would keep me

hard. I wouldn’t even touch myself. I wouldn’t even want a release. Sometimes, the wait makes it all worth it. I could lick you all day. Just spend hours in bed, kissing your flesh and tugging at those lovely nipples, playing between your thighs until tears leave your eyes and you’re begging me over and over to thrust inside of you, but I wouldn’t. Not until you got on your knees and bounced that lovely ass in front of me a few times. Can you make that lovely ass move?” She groaned, “Yes. I can drive you crazy.” There she goes. I knew there was a lioness inside that body. “One day, I’m going to see that.”

“If you are who you say you are.” With that she walked off, but I wouldn’t let her end our night that way. I caught her arm and gently pulled her back to me. “You can trust me.” “Everyone says that.” “I know, but you’ll see that I am who I say I am.” “But—” I drew Kassie all the way to me, pressing her body against mine. So far, she hadn’t asked me not to touch her or get too close. “This will be amazing, Kassie.” She giggled and before she could laugh anymore, not able to help myself, I pressed my mouth to hers and tried to consume every part of her. There was no

science to our kiss. It was wet lust and low moans. We both made hungry sounds as though we’d been craving to be touched for a long time, but never found the release. When we let go of each other, she gazed off at the drum circle breathing in and out like she’d been running. “We should get back,” she said. “I don’t want Rich to seeing me kiss anybody.” She looked around. “Although, I doubt he could see us out here.” “I understand. You’re the first woman I’ve ever let this close to my girls.” “What?” “I never thought anyone was good

enough to even invite to a beach party like this.” “I don’t know what to say. I mean, you’re definitely the first guy that’s been around my son, but that happened in a different way.” “Only guy,” I corrected. “What?” “I’m the only guy that you’ll be bringing around your son.” “That sounds a bit scary.” “Fear protects us, but I’m just being confidant not trying to scare you. I’m really good at getting what I want, when I work hard for it. That’s my game plan.” I lowered my voice. “I’m going to work really hard.” “Why are you saying it that way?”

She spoke deeply, but still sounded ridiculously feminine. “Work really hard.” “Aww. I’m saying it that way because in my mind, there are things I really want to try and I plan on doing some serious work when I get you there.” She playfully hit my chest. “We haven’t even had a date, yet and you’re talking dirty?” “When should I take you out?” She tugged a few locs behind her ear. “I’m not ready.” “You’re not, but when you are. . .” “You’re going to work really hard?” “Yes.” I tried to smile, but I

couldn’t. I just had to ask. “Did your exhusband hurt you really bad?” She looked off at the drum circle and muttered, “Yes, he did.” “So badly, you don’t want to fall in love, again?” “Yes.” “You know that’s just a normal phase?” “Not with me. I’m done falling in love.” “Why?” I asked. “Because, I don’t just fall in love. I crash. I burn. I bleed. I stagger.” “What about rise?” “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t rise.” “You could.” I kissed her in the

moonlight, as the warm water rippled against us. “Can I see you again?” “Yes,” she whispered against my mouth. I embraced her, gathering her soft curves into my arms and grasping her full ass. As soon as I squeezed her cushion, I growled like a goddamn beast. The sound stopped the kiss. Damn it. What’s wrong with me? Confusion spread across her face. She got out of my arms and inched back. “I should go. It’s getting late.” “I’m sorry, Kassie. Was the kiss too much?” “No.” “Was it the growling?” “Maybe, but not in a bad way.”

She touched her lips. “I just. . .I should go.” She hurried away, stopped, and then glanced over her shoulder. Moonlight bathed her ass. “Thank you for inviting me. And thank you for that. . .kiss. I just need a minute.” “I understand.” Damn it! Bring that beautiful ass back over here. I want those lips again. I fisted my fingers and kept my hands behind my back. “I promise, I will take it slower. I needed to kiss you.” She put her back to me. “That’s okay.” Was it okay? Kassie headed toward the drum circle and I followed like a bumbling

idiot. What else could I do? She had all of my attention. I wanted more time. I sucked on my own lips and thought of hers. I had to hold in another growl. Remember. Take it slowly. Take it. Fuck. Look at her. With each step, she twisted her curves. Her ass jiggled with the movement. I bet she didn’t even get how insane she made men. What the hell had her ex done to her? This woman had no reason to fear the male species. If anything, she should’ve invested money in all the leashes that she’d need to keep future fans in check. She could own us. Dominate. Control and destroy. Love and turn away. She’d been through a lot, but I could see something

happening inside of her. It moved in her eyes. She was on a path to be something even more amazing then what she’d been. Hardships did that. When a woman faced a difficulty in life, she grew stronger and more beautiful. I would have to beat men away from her, once she gained confidence in herself and recognized her worth. “Are you going to come to the Community Garden kick on Sunday?” I asked. “Yeah. I think so. It sounds like a good time and for a good cause. What should I bring?” “Nothing. They give you a small plot and everything else from the garden tools to the seeds and soil.”

“Wow.” She turned to me as we hit the sand. “You have a plot with the community garden?” Some guy laughed on the side and completely disturbed us. I turned and realized it was Rockstar. He stumbled over to us and patted my shoulder several times. I moved his hand away. “Hey, man. How are you getting back home?” He admitted, “I’m going to let you drive me, Lou.” “Well, I’m glad you let me know that, now.” “I’m good like that.” He whistled at Kassie. “No wonder I didn’t see you around the drum circle.” I tapped his back harder than

necessary. “Chill out, man.” Kassie continued walking and giving me shy, quick glances that kept my dick hard with each step. “So, do you have a plot with the Community Garden?” she asked again. Rockstar roared with laughter. “Does he have plots? Man, Lou has all types of plots. All those women love him.” I shook my head at her. “He’s drunk. Ignore him. My girls and I have a plot.” Rockstar chimed in with several slurs, “Lou has several plots. Every single mother in the community garden depends on him to work her land. The whole time they’re hoping he’ll work

them, too. I’ve won some serious bets on his gardening adventures.” “Hmm.” Kassie smiled. “And I bet he works really hard on their lots.” “Hey, that’s enough.” I held my hand up. However, Rockstar wasn’t done. “They’re always asking him for help and having him load and unload things for them. Then, when it all grows, they’re stopping by the station and giving home cooked meals that they made with vegetables from the garden.” My temper began rising, so I focused on my breathing. “Rockstar, go back with the guys. I’m going to walk Kassie over to the kids. Once I get the twins, I’ll grab you.”

“Lou is a pimp!” Rockstar roared and began doing a serious air guitar. “You’re an idiot.” I took Kassie’s hand, held on to her warm skin, and guided us to the kids. “He’s over exaggerating.” She smirked. “So, you have a fan base composed of single mothers?” “No. I have a plot and when I’m done on it, I go around and assist others. I can help you out, if we’re there at the same time.” “It sounds like you have enough women to help.” Although the words made me nervous, there was humor in her voice. “I’ll be there next Sunday. When you have a chance, can you send me the address?”

“How about I pick you and Richard up?” She thought about it for a minute. “Okay. I’m sure you can get the address off of the volunteer form.” “Yes. I can.” I wanted to say more. Worst-case scenario, I hoped to get another quick kiss. Maybe a peck or two, but the twins spotted me and then tapped Rich and his friend. All four rushed to us, and now it was time to return to being responsible parents. I did my best to wave the sexual energy away. You’re safe now, Brown Sugar. Rich attached himself to his mother’s hip and went on a fast-wordspree of describing everything he’d

seen. Giggling with so much beauty, she waved goodbye and that lovely woman walked away from me. My daughter, Hope, disturbed my drooling. “She’s pretty, Daddy.” I exhaled the breath that I’d been holding. “Yes, she is.” Faith giggled. “And Daddy likes her. He wants her to be his girrrrl friend.” The twins continued with their ridicule as we headed to the car. I spent no time explaining my plans for Kassie to them. They were too young to understand the complexities of dating. Men and women loved crazy. In all my years, I still hadn’t found a method to the madness. There was no sense,

blabbing to my girls about how much I liked Kassie already. It would sound crazy. It did to me. No. I had to play this cool on all fronts. Too many players existed in the game. We both had kids. There were too many hearts in this situation to ignore. I had to take my time with her, get to know her son, and Kassie would have to get to know my twins. I had to calm my body down and think each step through. She possessed a haunting beauty and so far, I could see a huge heart inside of her. But how far does her darkness go? We all have it. What’s hers?

Chapter 11 Kassie That Saturday night, Mom called. “How are you doing, Kassie?” “Not bad.” “Rich said you both went to the beach.” “When did he say that?” “He texted me, when you both got home. He said there was a cool fireman that kept following you around and that his daughters said you were both getting married and having tons of kids.” “Sorry about that. I forgot to send you the wedding invitations.” “No problem, sweetie.” A few chuckles filled her words. “I’m sure the

wedding will be in Sarasota, so that’s good enough for me. Is he a nice guy?” “Yes.” “Are you two dating?” “We’re getting to know each other.” “That sounds good to me. I just pray that you never go back to Ellis. He’s a special sort of evil. You need a man in that house that’s knocking Ellis in the head, when he bothers you.” “That’s a lot of knocking. Ellis isn’t a special evil. He’s the devil himself.” “Girl, you don’t ever lie.” She laughed some more. “Have you heard from him yet?” I told her about the texts.

“Kassie, just give Ellis the address and stop letting yourself get so worked up with him. Sometimes, you got to let God and let go. That’s the good thing about the Lord, he takes care of the things that are out of our hands, and Ellis is out of your hands.” “That makes sense.” “Does this firefighter go to church?” “Yes, Mom.” I chuckled to myself, thinking about my fire degenerate, standing in God’s house with an erection. “He seems like a decent man, so far.” When we got off the phone, I thought about Mom’s words and texted Ellis my address. What was the worst

that he could do to me now? I was finally happy. Finally understanding the beauty inside of me. If anything, Rich would get to see his dad and I would get to show Ellis my middle finger, when our son wasn’t looking. Good old dysfunctional times. I sent the address and Ellis didn’t reply. Oh, well. I had a great day. I headed to bed and once I fell asleep, my dream played out in technicolor. I stood in a crowded house. The ceiling rose a mile high above me. Boxes and junk piled twenty to thirty feet in the air. It looked like a city made out of cardboard and tape, dusty junk and

scattered memories. Ink scribbled letters blew in the cold breeze that traveled around some of the passages. Torn envelopes and faded pictures littered the gray floor. Things moved in the shadows. They screeched and hissed. But somehow I knew it was a house, and not just anybody’s home. It was mine. Even crazier, I stood in the center of this ginormous dream place with black molding clay encased all over my body. Gasping, I broke through the soft parts, kicking my legs and slamming my arms around. The clay stuff turned to powder and sprinkled in the air around me. I somehow broke free of the thing that had been binding me. I knew that for

sure. That blackness had bound and limited me, forced me to stay in one place in that big house and kept me confined to darkness. I broke free. My heart glowed with the feat. But then, a haunting horn blared behind me. I turned around and searched for the person making the noise. But I couldn’t see anything but boxes on top of boxes. Someone had scribbled labels all over them, but they weren’t the typical moving words like Kitchen pots, Bathroom Toiletries, and Family Memories. Someone had organized them in another way. The person had written the strangest things on those boxes.

In bold letters, the black marker screamed heart, love, life, and me. Another said self. Others read ego one, ego two, and ego three. Damn this person has a lot of egos. Pressure built in my chest while I scanned more of the labels—brain, tears, lungs, and lips. My gaze stopped on the one named pussy. What? I looked down at my legs and realized that a large empty space cut between my thighs. In that area, I was hollow and void. My pussy had disappeared. Further investigation of my body showed that I had holes all over me. But for some reason, the rest of my missing parts didn’t freak me out.

Where is my pussy?! Wait. Is my pussy over there? I ran to the tiny little box with that word on it. It sat there under cobwebs. A black rat crept out of it, dragging a tiny insect skeleton body with it. I jumped and waited for the ugly thing to scurry away. When it did, I rushed to the box and held it in my hand. Covered in dust, tears ran up the sides. I flipped open the top and nothing laid inside. The little box fell from my hands and I screamed, “Where’s my pussy!?” Then I woke up, and laughed as I wrote it all down in my dream journal. This was another method I’d started to battle the writer’s block. It never got me back to penning a book, but I enjoyed

putting the descriptions of my dreams down on paper. It became a sort of meditative process that I had with myself. A sort of conversation with my subconscious, the one that brought the dream to me in the first place. My mother believed that God speaks in our minds when we sleep. My sister-in-law thought it was the universe delivering a message. Whether it was my subconscious, God, or the universe, someone believed that I needed to be laid. Did the rat really have to climb out of the pussy box? Like seriously. It hasn’t been that long. Oh wait. When was the last time I’ve had sex? I thought back to the night before

I’d found out my ex-husband had cheated on me. Jesus. It’s been a little over a year, and I hadn’t noticed. My vagina really is gone. Should I get laid? Last night had healed me a bit. The beach and Lorenzo mingled perfectly together. I hadn’t laughed like that in a good year. Rich had a smiled so much, I bet his cheeks hurt the entire ride home. We both had an amazing time, and it was because of Lorenzo. Damn that man is sexy. I was still afraid of developing feelings for Lorenzo, but I had to admit, I’d become less angry at the male race. Perhaps, I might’ve hoped to date again. Would it really be that bad to give him a

try? I’d never wanted to be one of those angry women. The sort that grew hard from heartbreak. The ones that stopped living life and dating all together. But I could see myself stepping easily into that role. I could visualize myself purchasing bland-toned, gender neutral clothes just to have something to wear as I shoveled down ice cream and stumbled over to the book store, buying the latest novel to help me forget about how shitty and lonely my life had become. I could see it all in front of me. The thirty cats and the Netflix series marathons in between the masturbating porn sessions. I could see it all, and seriously, I had no freaking problem with that life. It

might’ve sounded crazy, but reading books, eating ice cream, getting fat as I watched movies and masturbated in the quiet of my cat filled home, didn’t sound like a bad future. I mean, there were people in this world who really suffered. There were countries where women were being raped and their children taken away because of war, poverty, and hunger. Cruelty bred pain and strife. With all of that in my mind, a lonely life among cats, porn, and ice cream didn’t sound that bad at all. But was that the life for me? Did life just happen to us, or did we shape the days ourselves? What do I want? That question plagued me the rest

of my Sunday. If I don’t date, I won’t be hurt. I won’t cry myself to sleep. I won’t feel more alone than I already do. I will be safe. That image of the empty pussy box flashed in my head. Giggles bubbled up from my throat. Really, subconscious? You think I’ve lost my vagina? My phone buzzed later that day, right as I sat down to work on my LunaDemon problem. I checked the screen and read the text. Lorenzo: Hey, Kassie. I hope you’re having a good day. Me: I am. Lorenzo: I just came back from

church. What are you doing? Really? Must you be perfect in every way? I’m sitting here wondering if I should give him a chance, and I should be happy he’s giving me one? No. Don’t say that. I’m worthy of love. Right? Yes. I sighed and decided to be just me. Me: I wish I could say I’m coming from church too. But I’m about to write about a witch trying not to have sex with a demon. Nervously, I waited for the reply. For two minutes, nothing came. Then the phone rang. Smiling, I picked up. “Hello?” His sexy voice traveled over the line and caused me to shiver. “Why

wouldn’t the witch want to have sex with the demon?” There was no reason for it, but I melted at my desk. “She can’t have sex with him because he’s a demon.” “Are demons bad in your world?” I considered that for a second. “Kind of. Sure. They’re bad.” “They don’t sound that bad to me.” “You don’t know anything about them.” “It doesn’t matter. If the witch wants to have sex with the demon, let her enjoy herself. Life is too short, Kassie.” “But he’s evil.” “Says who?” “Says me, the creator of this

world.” “Then create another one.” “Another one?” “Yes,” he said. “Maybe you should let the lost and broken find love. Maybe the witch should see the good in the demon. No one is all evil.” “Not if they’re good characters,” I mumbled. “Then good. Make them better by giving him some light in the darkness. Does the witch have some darkness in her that makes the demon go crazy?” “Yes. She has a hunger about her.” “That’s sexy.” “Not for her. She’s desperate for love, so much that she aches.” “She sounds like me and lots of

people.” “Do you really think people ache, like that?” “Yes. Don’t you ache?” “Not for love.” “You will.” I sat there speechless. “Anyway,” he said. “Create another world. Maybe that would help you really explore the witch’s journey.” Create another one, where demons can fall in love? That could be interesting. Is the demon all that bad or is he as dangerous as she figured? Silence occupied the line. Then what about her soul mate? Is the demon the soul mate? No. Does she get a soul mate? Does she even

need one? Maybe she is empowered by the sex alone. I don’t know. It could be interesting. “Have I gone too far with my advice?” Lorenzo asked. I almost didn’t hear what he’d said. So many ideas twirled around in my head. “No, you didn’t go too far,” I said. “You’re just giving me a lot of awesome ideas.” “Good. I can’t wait to read this.” Anxiety surged in my veins. Why did I have to be so nervous about him reading my work? Ellis had never even picked up any of my books, not even the bestsellers. Maybe it gave me comfort. Perhaps my ex’s lack of interest

triggered a little insecurity. What if he read one of my books and thought I was a moron? Like, good God that story is so bad that he actually loses respect for me as a human being. Can a book be that bad? Yes. Hells fucking yes. Some authors should die for the atrocities that they’ve committed with the pen. Lorenzo interrupted my mental rant. “Kassie?” “Oh. I’m sorry. I just kind of went in my head.” Then something came to me. “Wait. That’s a good thing.” “What’s a good thing?” “I just sort of slipped into my head and completely ignored everything else you had to say.” I blew out a proud

breath and fist pumped the air. Lorenzo chuckled. “Ignoring me is a good thing?” “Yes. I mean. . .no, but yes.” I shook my head. “For my writing, it is awesome. I’ve been having some problems with it, and I feel like I’m getting back to my old self. My mental rants are something I used to do a lot. Someone would say something so inspiring that I would just grab that piece of information and start to uncoil it into a story idea.” “And I gave you that inspiration today?” “Yes.” “Then, it is a good thing. Feel free to take something that I say and

completely ignore me for as long as it benefits you.” “Oh, really?” “Yes, just make sure that next time you do that, you have on that lovely swim suit you wore last night.” I whispered. “You liked that?” “Hmmmm.” I made sure my office door was closed. “Say it.” “Say what?” “Say what you’re thinking. Don’t just hmmm me this time.” I licked my lips. “Say it.” “When you took off that dress, I wanted to take my dick out and slap it against your ass and watch your beautiful bottom jiggle. I wanted to fuck

you, and not in a fast way, Kassie. I yearned to take my time. Days. Not hours. I wanted to put you somewhere. By ourselves. In a boat, hotel, house, or car. I contemplated getting my tent out and dragging you to the other end of the beach, but the kids were there and so many people and my dick just kept rising so all I could do was wobble after you with my hands hiding it all and rushing into the water.” Lorenzo’s voice lowered into a deep growl. “I wanted to rip that swim suit apart. Thread by thread with my teeth. I wanted to lick you, between your thighs and deeper inside to where I bet your flesh is so soft and wet. I wanted to own you right there on the powdered white sand, let it get all

over that rich brown skin as I squeezed and whispered to you how good you felt around my dick. Hmmmm.” My body went wild with desire. I had nothing to say. Nothing that would make sense to human ears. It would’ve been hormonal babble. Then he whispered, “That’s what the hmmm was hiding.” I sighed and slowly moaned, “Hmmm.” “Kassie. Kassie. I should go.” I joked. “Am I scaring you away?” “No, you’re making me want to leave my mother’s back yard, run to the fire station, see if I can find your address, and then race over there to see what your hmmm meant.”

“You don’t have to search out my address.” I bit my lip and hoped he understood the deeper meaning in the next words. “I’ll give it to you.” He must have, because his voice sounded thick with desire. “Will you? Will you give it to me?” “I’m thinking about it.” “And tell me, Kassie. What should I do with this address?” “You should probably come and visit me one night.” “Hmmm,” he groaned. “Stop that.” “I can’t. There’s no need to rush. I will come see you, but I won’t be visiting, I’ll be picking you up and taking you out to somewhere crowded and

public where I won’t attack you with my hands.” I giggled. “Okay. That sounds like a plan.” “No, Kassie. That sounds like a date.” I covered my face. I had no idea why. It wasn’t like anyone else was in my office. Maybe I hid my teenage girl blushing. Perhaps I just hoped to hold on to this infatuated giddiness that bounced around in my chest. Either way, like a little girl with a crush, I whispered, “Okay. Let me think about it.” After I gave him my address, we hung up. His words of advice lingered in my mind. A new plot line began to

unfold. Mama Ganga had sparked the flame, and he’d added some logs. A fire to write blazed inside of me. A man that inspires me to write? Now he’s becoming too good to be true. Could this be real? Would it all be okay? I juggled so many emotions after that phone call. Fear dominated it all, and this burning nervousness about everything Lorenzo could give me and everything that he could take away. I pretended to not care about love. I’d even convinced myself that I believed it. But it wasn’t true. Didn’t we all need love to truly live? His voice played in my head. A

lovely melody of hmmms and groans that could incite a small village to explode. Did he have any idea how hot he was? How much I’d spent the rest of the weekend thinking of him? Would he go crazy, if he knew my thoughts? I pictured him in my life. I saw us on the beach with thick bushels of gray hair on top of our heads and our grandkids running all around us. I daydreamed about things that I shouldn’t have so early on in this relationship. Relationship? Is this even a relationship? Relax. We haven’t even gone on a date yet. Still, fantasies played out in my mind. He made love to me in so many

exotic places—in Hawaii we hiked up a volcano and he fucked me from behind. Months later, we strolled the tiny streets in India, sampling decadent foods and groping each other in the alleyways. Fuck, Lorenzo. What are you doing to my head? This man dominated my brain. So much so, that when I sat down, I had an entire book ready to write. I returned to Luna and her demon. . . “Your mind is the creator of your reality. If I am not yours, then it will be true.” The demon touched the flames, again. Less sparks appeared. Still, he jerked back in annoyance. “But, if you believe that I am your

soul mate, then it will be true.” Luna raised her eyebrows. “How?” “Because, only you can control your destiny.” “Lies.” The demon’s laughter filled the air. The flamed wall lowered a few inches, and instead of its fiery blue blaze, signaling the highest temperatures, the glow ran orange with lines of gold. Worry rushed into her heart. Luna paused from her dancing. “What’s happening to my shield?” “It is weakening, my little witch.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t talking to you.” His laughter rippled through the air and then his deep voice flooded her ears. “You are mine. I can feel your hunger more than before. Your scent suffocates me in the most beautiful ways.” He stroked himself some more. Dark fingers slipped down his huge length and stopped at the mushroomed tip, so thick Luna’s thighs slicked with arousal. All worry over the flames stopped. “You’re so beautiful.” She stood there, entranced in his hands’ movements. “Why does the devil

tempt me so? Why hasn’t my soul mate come?” “Because I am him,” Groaning, he twirled his fingers around the tip. Silver liquid spurted out. A small amount, but enough to make Luna lean toward the flames closer to get a better look. “Yes, little witch.” He smeared the silver all over his cock. “Do you see one of the things that I have to offer you?” Need flowed through her so strong it was like the Mother’s wind had gotten through her circle and tried to blow her away. Tendrils of black smoke radiated from his naked,

muscular body. His magic thickened the air. None of that mattered. In her head, she wondered, over and over, how the silver liquid tasted. “Ancestors, help me,” she whispered. An invisible pressure weighed down on her shoulders. She fanned at this foreign energy that had gotten inside of her circle. “No!” Her legs went weak. She crashed to the ground. The demon moaned, “Yes.” Luna lay on the sand defeated. The air was no longer a sweet, cool breeze. It had shifted into a heavy, warm mist that smelled just like the

demon. His fragrance soared all around her—this mixture of cloves and cinnamon, smoldering sex and the darkest evil. “Your wall is almost gone.” The demon prowled around the circle some more. “There is no one, but me outside of your shields. Our desires have both rocked Mother Nature’s powers as well as your families’ magic. Our union will bring balance where others would cause discord.” Another dark groan left him. He stalked around the fire circle as the walls lowered a foot. Smoke danced in twisting wisps at the top. His eyes glowed hot red as moonlight bathed

his horns. “You will be mine, little witch.” Tears fell from Luna’s eyes and her body spasmed with need. “Leave me alone.” “I can’t. You’re too ripe and I’m too hungry. Would you tell a starving child to not pick the fruit from the tree?” “Eve picked the apple. Now look at our world.” “Eve sought the truth. Who’s to say Eden was as lovely as our world? Who’s to say she did not enjoy life on the outside. She bore children. She loved. She’s known for all of history. Who’s to say that all evil is wrong and

hurtful? And who’s to say all good is right and pleasurable? Let me taste you, little witch.” Conquered, Luna stayed on the ground and rolled to her back. Even that tiny movement was difficult. Desire boomed between her thighs. It pulsated deep within her wet folds. She spread her legs open and screamed out in agony. How many times had she touched herself, just to get rid of the ache that would never leave? Each time she came, her body would gain peace for a few minutes, and then the hunger would return, and she’d sit by her window and daydream about the one

who would save her. “Where are you?” Lust blinded her, but still she called out to her soul mate. Surely, he would appear soon and save her. “Hurry to me!” And then, the flames went out. Her strong wall that had been high and burning transformed into tiny wisps of smoke. The line in the sand that had represented her circle, cleared away into nothing. It was like she’d never spilled her own blood or scattered the dead’s ashes on the beach. Everything left. Including the blaze of the fire. Now only darkness and the

moonlight remained. And also, the red glow of the Demon’s eyes, as he stepped toward her. “Come to me, little witch.”

Chapter 12 Lorenzo Sunday afternoon, I eyed my daughter, Hope, in the mirror. “And this makeup is going to come off me?” I asked. “Yes, Daddy.” She giggled. “It’s not permanent marker. You’re so silly.” Brown kinky curls bobbed around her head as she grabbed some purple shade of lipstick and grinned. “Now, let’s try this. JaNiya Stone says this color is the must-buy for fall.” “Oh, God.” I set the mirror down and returned to watching my game. “And who’s JaNiya Stone?” Annoyance laded Hope’s voice as

she smeared the disgusting stuff on my lips. “Daddy, stop moving. JaNiya Stone is the coolest person ever. She has the largest following on her beauty channel on YouTube.” Glancing in the small mirror again, I grumbled in annoyance. “I really don’t think this color goes with my eyes.” “You’re so funny.” Hope giggled and finished assaulting my face. Gold shimmering powder coated my eyes. Turquoise outlined the edges. My cheeks held a plum glow. While clip on zebra earrings hung from my ears. Now, I had purple lips. If the guys could see me now, they’d have some fun with this. “Faith?” Hope yelled over her

shoulder. “Could you get all of the wigs, too?” “Faith!” I laughed. “If you love your daddy, you’ll pretend like you can’t find those wigs!” Faith’s laughter rang from the back of the house. “I’ll do my best, Lou!” She was the only one that called me Lou in the family. She’d watched me struggle all those years with studying for the position. At times, she helped me out, holding the index cards with her little hands and yelling out questions. When I finally made the rank, we all celebrated and she cried so much, hugging me longer than she ever had. From that day on, she called me Lou. It never hurt that she didn’t say

Dad. If anything, I loved it more. Faith put the lipstick down and rummaged through more of her make-up box. “Where’s that eyeliner?” “I don’t need lines on my eyes.” I grabbed the bowl of popcorn. “If anything, I could use something to take away that shine on my forehead.” “JaNiya Stone says that—” “Your father is the greatest man alive.” Ignoring me, Hope stared at my face and shook her head. “No, this is all wrong. I have to start again.” I frowned and muttered, “Yay. We’re starting all over.” Hope yelled out again, Faith, I need a wash cloth and a razor.”

I shook my head. “She does not need a razor!” Hope had the nerve to pout. “Let me arch your eyebrows.” “I have my limits, little girl.” She sulked in annoyance and returned to her make-up box. Really? Sometimes, I think I’ve spoiled you. This is the third time you’ve restarted. But in the end, none of that mattered to me, as long as my football games played in the living room all day. With only one television in the house and only a small bit of time to spend with my girls, Daddy always had to multi-task. On most Sundays, they held a beauty spa day on me and I sat on my ass, shoveling

delicious crap into my mouth while bulky men slammed into each other. I’m blessed. Hope yelled over her shoulder, “Faith, did you find that gold scarf in my drawer, too?” A light voice sounded from the back. “No! I did find that green and polka dot one.” I shook my head. “That clearly is going to clash with my eyes.” “Oh, Daddy,” Hope huffed. “I know what I’m doing.” “Fine.” Setting the bowl to the side, I grabbed another one and popped some chips into my mouth. “I just don’t think anyone is respecting the beauty of my eyes.”

“Maybe, I’ll go with a lighter color, when I start over.” She analyzed the various eye shadows in her box and then held one up to my face every few seconds. “Interesting.” Tampa Bay had finally scored. Maybe there would be some life to this game after all. The crowd in the stadium roared. Their cheers filled the house. “Yes! Interesting.” I punched the air in front of me. Hope shook her head. “Could I get a henna kit, when you get paid again? I would love to do your arms.” “That’s the black stuff women put on their hands?” “Yes.” “Fine.”

“I’m studying the patterns and I can’t wait to take a bunch of pictures and send them to Mom.” Guilt swelled in my chest. “Sounds good. I bet she would love that.” The game went to commercial and I slumped back to allow for more make up abuse. Always the artist, Hope had to paint everything, including me. When she was a toddler, she drew on the walls. Even my car displayed stick figure drawings of princesses among a happy family. As she got older, she had stacks of sketch boards crowding her closet. Everyone knew she loved to sketch and so my sisters and I kept her flooded with book supplies. Now at twelve, she

buzzed with infinite possibilities. She didn’t have one path set in her mind, yet. One week she dreamed about being a painter. The next, she discussed becoming a high-end chef. Another month, she hoped to sculpt amazing works. By the end of the month, she was convinced she’d illustrate comics. None of it mattered to me. I only wanted her to be happy and satisfied in life. Wherever her destiny lay, I only wanted to help her get there. Someone knocked at the door. I checked my watch. “Rockstar is early. I thought he wasn’t coming over until the Packers played the Seahawks, later tonight.” “Goodie, he’ll get to see your new

look.” Faith clapped. “Yay.” I rose from the couch. “Oh, my God!” Faith shrieked from the back. “Rockstar is here? I have to change. Oh, my God.” I eyed Hope. “What’s up with her?” Hope giggled. “I don’t know, Daddy.” The door boomed again. That was odd. It wasn’t like Rockstar to keep on banging. Usually, he knocked once and then, waited for me to open up. He must still be hung over. “Oh, my god!” Faith screeched again as she rushed into the bathroom. More giggles came from Faith. Freaking girls. I’ll never

understand them. Since when is Hope acting crazy about her Uncle Rockstar coming over? Women were a mystery. Little girls were a box of nuclear puzzles that boggled their father’s minds and made them frantic to keep them young. Still trying to figure out what was going on with Faith, I checked out the shadow on the other end of the door’s foggy glass and realized that whoever stood there, couldn’t be Rockstar. The person was too short and tiny for the big man. My stomach knotted into worry. Please, say it’s not her. But in my heart, I knew it was. Cicely.

I hurried to open the door, rushed onto the porch, and slammed it behind me. “What are you doing here?” A funky smell reeked from Cicely as she crossed her arms over her chest. She appeared worse than she ever had before. Drugged and disheveled, she scratched her arms constantly and would barely let me get a good look at them. Her tiny shirt and stained jeans hung from her ragged bones. Today, she wore no shoes and hadn’t even tried to wipe the white stuff off her face. Since Rockstar told me she was over there, I’d avoided driving near that area, especially with the girls. None of us was ready to deal with her or the new horror that she’d become.

But now, she stood at my door and I had to deal with it all. She glanced at the shut door and frowned. “How are the girls?” “How are you?” I wanted to hug her. She looked so weak and damaged like she hadn’t experienced any sense of humanity in some time. A tear fell from her eyes. She wiped them away fast. “I’m doing like I always do.” A weak smile spread on her dirty face as she stared at the door again. “Which one of the girls put the make up on you?” I swallowed down my sadness. The only way Cicely knew the girls was through me. In between the money

exchanges and the times, she begged for things, I tried to give her as much information as I could about our daughters, hoping that one day she’d change just to know more about them. “Let me guess.” Cicely sniffed. “It was Hope right? You said she’s the artist.” “Yes, Hope started the spa treatment. If it deals with adding color to something, then she’s the ring leader.” “And what about Faith? Is she still going crazy over that pop singer? What was his name?” “Ring Bop.” More tears fell from her eyes and this time she didn’t wipe them. “That’s such a weird name.”

“Cicely.” I extended my hand to wipe her face. She backed up. “When we were married, you always loved me? Right?” “Yes.” She stared at the ground. “Do you still love me?” I couldn’t lie to her, no matter how bad she appeared. I couldn’t give her false hope for a reunion, when absolutely none existed. “Cicely, I think we should focus on getting you some help and then getting you to the point where you can see the girls. I could even get you a hotel or—” “I have a hotel room on Tamiami Trail.” I let out a long breath. “That’s not

exactly a safe area for anybody. I wouldn’t walk over there at night and I’m a big guy. Somebody could mistake you for a hooker.” She laughed and then turned back to the door. “Are they still honor roll?” “Yes.” “They get their brains and motivation from you,” she said.” “No. It takes a lot to survive the things you have. You’ve got tons of street smarts.” She stared at me with a blank look. “You have no idea what I’ve survived in my life.” “No, I don’t. Maybe you should tell me or. . .somebody.” “My Sweet and Low.”

My heart ached at the nickname she used to call me. It reminded me of when she was better. She sighed. “You’re always trying to help me. I’m fine.” She scratched her arm. “I’m doing just fine.” I tried not to get aggravated. Here was a woman who’d been so beautiful and passionate about life, and now she stood in front of me like a worn-down skeleton. “So why did you come?” “Why do I always come?” I dug in my pockets and took out all the money I had. “I can’t do this anymore, Cicely. I can’t.” “Why not?” She raised one ragged eyebrow. “Because you’re getting worse,

and I think that all I’m doing is funding your death. I’m just helping you get on with killing yourself.” I took the hundred dollars bills out and then closed it in my hand. “No, I’m not going to do this.” She pierced me with her gaze, and no peace or humor appeared in her eyes. “You’ll give me that money and more, every time I come or one day I’ll pick the girls up from school, take them down to my hotel room, and I’ll have them make the money for me. I bet those young little pussies would make me way more than that flimsy hundred dollars.” She laughed aloud on the porch. Hot anger flashed in my eyes. My hands were around her throat before I could even comprehend it all.

Shit! I let go and threw the money on the floor. “Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you ever come around them. Don’t even. . .” Fear swam in her eyes, although she tried to laugh it off, when she picked up the bills. “My poor Sweat and Low. Always trying to save us sad little females. I bet you’re a good father.” “Get out of here, Cicely.” She pocketed the money, stared at the door one more time with a sad look, and then walked away. Inside of me, darkness twirled and pain swelled. Guilt rained down on me. It itched at my skin and I scratched my arms as Cicely had been doing on my porch.

Shit. Every time I saw her, I felt dirty like my soul was in need of cleansing. What we were doing was wrong. I couldn’t continue giving her money. I had to stop feeding her habit. I had to save her, at least so she’d be there, clean and sober, to wave at my girls when they walked across the stage for their graduations. I had to be better. And even worse, I had to tell my twins the truth. I couldn’t pretend, anymore. “Damn it. What am I going to do about her?” I slumped against the door and didn’t want return inside to face my daughters. How would they feel if they knew I was giving their mother drug

money? Bills to fill her up with more poison. How would they feel if she died one day and knew I’d helped her along? My phone rang and I didn’t want to check it. No one would’ve called, but my mother or one of my sisters to bitch about Tampa Bay possibly losing the game. But something told me to look. Kassie’s name came up on the screen. My voice cracked at the end of the word. “Hello?” “Hey, Lorenzo.” “Uh. . .hey.” “Am I catching you at a bad time?” Her voice, alone, began calming me, and somehow, I knew I would be okay. “No just talk to me for a few

minutes.” “What?” she asked. “Are you okay?” “Kind of.” “Kind of doesn’t sound like okay. What’s going on?” Just like that she switched into mommy mode. “What’s wrong?” I smiled. It felt good to have someone try to be my hero, for once. “I have a problem. . .that I’ve had for a while.” I let out an exhausting breath. “This thing just comes up sometimes out of the blue and just. . .rubs me raw.” “What is it? Wait. You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” She’s already scared. I don’t want

to freak her out anymore with the fact that my baby mama is a drug addicted prostitute that I give money to so she won’t kidnap my kids. That’s too much for any normal woman to handle, no matter how good she is. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I confessed. “Okay. I understand.” Worry still lingered in her voice. “But there’s something that my mom always said. In fact, she just said it to me today. Look, I’m not a super religious person, but I do try to follow this rule. Let God and let go.” “Let God and let go,” I repeated. “Yes.” “Kassie?”

Her voice lowered. “Yes.” “I have to see you, again.” I hoped she didn’t catch the desperation in my voice. “I really have to see you, again. I’m. . .I’m feeling you really bad.” She giggled. “You’re feeling me? Does that mean you have a little crush on Kassie?” “Yes, baby.” “That’s interesting.” “No, what’s interesting is that you’re playing hard to get, when you’re feeling me as much as I’m feeling you.” “I’m not.” “I want to see you, again. When can I?” “Whenever,” she whispered. “Be careful, Kassie. I’ll be over

there, right now.” “Well, not today. But anytime this week you could come over and chat for a few. . .” “Hours,” I groaned. “Must you say it that way?” “I may have to pop over then, just to say hi.” “I think I would like that.” “Oh you’ll like it. Trust me.” She laughed. “Anyway, I just called to tell you thank you for your assistance in my story. That was a big help.” “Is the demon going to get laid?” “Stop focusing on the demon and concentrate on the heroine.” “I can’t help it. He might’ve been

given the parts of an evil creature, but I bet he’s a lovable little devil on the inside.” “He is the villain, Mr. Ego. Stop relating to him.” “He’s not the villain. He’s the hero and he’s going to fuck the shit out of the heroine.” Her laughter beautifully traveled over the line. “I can’t wait until you finish it.” “Why?” “I’m going to read it.” “I don’t know.” “I’m reading the Wench’s Tail now. I love mermaids!” “Oh, God.” “Especially mermaids with huge

breasts that milk their lovers. Talk about hot and nasty.” “Stop reading my book.” “What’s crazy is that you managed to put all of this hot stuff into the story, but I feel like you’re talking about other things, too. Like how love heals and the power of faith against the odds.” “Uh. . .you’re really reading it.” “Of course.” “Yeah, I was talking about that. In fact, God. . .it’s been so long, I forgot I even wrote that way.” “I’m loving the sex in between the messages.” “Thank you.” “You’re a talented writer and I want to milk you badly and maybe grab a

hold of your tail.” “I think you should return back to the hmmms.” “And if I don’t?” I asked. “Then I’ll have to punish you like the mermaids disciplined violators.” A vision of her on her knees and my cock in her mouth came to mind. Just like in her novel, I would be tied up in front of her and naked with no ability to move any of my limbs. And she would suck on my tip unbearably long, while I begged and begged for her to let me free to fuck her. If she ever said that again, I would come right in my pants. The image was that hot. So vibrant and in color. Her naked breasts bobbed hard chocolate nipples to my eyes’ delight.

Her moans would trigger hysteria in my cock. Her wet, warm mouth. The taste of her skin and the scent of her pussy, while she dripped for me. Punish me, Kassie. But I couldn’t even say those words as a shiver ran through me. All I could say was, “Hmmm.”

Chapter 13 Kassie “I

have to see you again,” he’d said. “I really have to see you again. I’m. . .I’m feeling you really bad.” “You’re feeling me? Does that mean you have a little crush on Kassie?” “Yes, baby.” Lorenzo’s words on the phone and our kiss on the beach played in my mind all Sunday night. When I woke up that Monday morning, my body could find no peace. I rushed through Richard’s and my morning routine, ready getting him to school so I could get back home and relieve myself from all Lorenzo had

started. By eight thirty, I was back home and one thought of Lorenzo’s body in his swim trunks made my panties soaking wet. He was something melted and delicious, not chocolate or caramel, but something even more. I could taste him in my mouth, feel him sliding down my throat, and warming my belly. I wanted to fuck him. I couldn’t deny it no matter how hard I tried. I wanted his hands all over me, toying and teasing. His lips nibbling and kissing. Every cell craved him in the worst way. I knew he was a fucking fire starter. Freaking demon man. Horny, I sat in front of my computer, searching for something hot to

masturbate to. Lorenzo had sparked crazy lust in me. Hormones had been bouncing around in my body since our kiss at the beach. I would’ve taken care of my horniness last night, but by the time I came home, I had Rich’s bath and bedtime story to oversee. Once I hit the bed, my fingers lay between my thighs and I passed out between the sheets with Lorenzo’s face in my mind. Now, I had the time. I turned off my phone. Rich sat at school. Besides writing, I had nothing to do until three in the afternoon. And if Mama Ganga showed up, I would simply ignore her until I was done. I needed to come. It’s time to take care of me. Enough is enough. I mean sex is a

health thing. You have to come for nutrients or something. It’s a biology thing. I know that much. An hour passed while I scanned the Porn Central and I hadn’t even started masturbating. There were many categories—from big dicks to ebony, and cumshot compilations to erotic parodies. Goodness. I could sit here all day just trying to figure out which category I’m going to pick. Hentai intrigued me with its cartoon heroines drowning in semen and weeping in confused ecstasy. I might’ve spent some time on the orgy videos, twisting my head in odd angles to see who was doing what and how. Next,

were the cream pie pornos that stopped my coffee drinking and made me switch to the good old MILF section. There, I faced even more decisions—interracial to anal, squirting or rough sex. Rough sex, maybe? I’d never been for it, but something intrigued me about checking it out. Lorenzo had a big beastly thing going for him—huge frame and hard muscle. He moved around like a sleek and dangerous animal, towering and strong. If I gave him a chance, I didn’t think he’d be soft and gentle. I pictured his cock going in, deep and hard. A rough ride to sexual bliss. I’d lose myself with a man like him, and then he would chew my heart up and spit me out.

No relationship would ever last. I learned that the hard way with the destruction of my marriage. I would never forget that lesson. Still, I clicked on the rough sex category and found a bulky brother nude and hovering over a cute blonde with huge breasts. She wore nothing but a dog chain around her neck. Silver bulbs pierced her pink nipples. “Yeah, bitch,” the black guy said. “Get on your fucking knees and take it.” “Yes, Daddy! So sorry, Daddy.” The actress lowered to the floor. I scrunched my face in confusion. “That’s not how it is. Right?” “Oh yeah. Suck on my balls.” He

stuffed her mouth with them. “Put my chocolate balls in that milky mouth of yours.” “Uh. . .okay.” I pulled my yoga pants and underwear off. “It’s not like the screenwriter was trying to win a guild award or anything. Just focus on the big dick, Kassie.” “Yes! Lap that chocolate up, bitch!” He slapped her face. “You like that, huh?” A pink handprint tinted her cheek. “Yes, Daddy!” “Hey, don’t hit her!” I stopped the video. “Okay. That’s a bit much.” I pressed on the other video. Both the guy and girl were white and dressed in leather. He only wore pants. She had

on a black cat suit with holes around her butt and breasts. A mask covered her face, except for the eye and mouth openings. Weird, but not a big deal like the slapping. It wasn’t like I planned on staring at her while I touched myself. The guy pulled out a big cock with a pink bulbous tip. He triggered a nice wetness. “Hmm. Let’s see what you two are going to do.” So far, they had remained silent as she danced in front of him. Then, two hard knocks came at the front door. “Who the hell is that?” I checked the time. Ten in the morning. Another knock hit. “It better not be Mama Ganga.

I know that.” I rushed off without turning my computer off. Whoever was there would either be ignored or have to leave. I peeked out of the living room window and Lorenzo stood in front of it. He waved. “Good morning.” “Why are you in front of my window?” I slid the curtain open. “Because, you didn’t answer the door.” “So you planned on breaking in?” “No. I was checking to see if you were in there and maybe didn’t hear me. It’s a natural thing that anybody would do.” “Why are you here, again?” “It’s an emergency. Give me a

quick minute. It’s about my twins.” “Oh.” I rushed to the door and opened it a little bit. “What is it about?” Lorenzo stood behind my door in his freaking uniform as if my horniness triggered a fire alarm in his ears and he’d had come to save the day. He quirked his eyebrows. “Can I come in?” “Uh.” I looked down at myself— no panties or pants. Just my University of Miami T-shirt. I stepped away from the half-way opened door. “Give me a minute. I’m half naked.” He cursed under his breath. “What?” I asked. “Nothing.” I rushed away without closing the door, sure, that he would remain on the

porch. My shirt rode up over my hips. I had to pull my shirt down over my ass as I speed walked back to my office. His voice came out as a growl. “Damn.” I glanced back to see Lorenzo inside of my living room and apparently mesmerized with my bare ass as it jiggled in front of him. “Really?” I yanked my shirt down. “Really? Goddamn.” He sneered at me. He looked like he was going to destroy me in seconds. “Is this how you come to the door every day, because I’ll be back at this time tomorrow and the next and the next and the next—” “I think I got it. You can stop now.” I kept the shirt down enough to cover

me. Although his reaction hadn’t helped to hide my nipples. They perked to attention and poked through the soft cotton of my shirt. “Thanks for being a gentleman and looking away.” “Any man that could turn away from this image right here, is either a very gay man or someone who’s considering priesthood.” He closed the door behind him. “Stay there.” “I really want to come closer.” Loud moans sounded from my office. Lorenzo turned his head in that direction. “Who’s that?” I blushed. “No one.” “Take this dick!” the man roared from my computer.

“Uh.” Damn. I forgot to turn the porn off. “That’s nothing. Hold on.” “Is someone here?” Lorenzo called after me. “No.” I rushed around the corner. “Give me that pussy, bitch!” the actor screamed. “Fucking take it.” “Interesting.” Lorenzo sounded closer. He must have been heading my way. Oh, God. “It’s a freaking movie.” I hurried forward. The actor yelled over slapping sounds. “I’m going to beat this pussy up!” “A movie, huh?” Lorenzo asked behind me.

“Jesus!” I jumped, turned around, and backed up into my office. “How the hell did you get here so fast?” Lorenzo stood in the doorway. “I’m steady and fast like a panther.” “Wow. I don’t even know how to respond to that. By the way, thanks for staying in the living room. And I hope you can hear the sarcasm in my voice.” He walked into my office and looked around. I twirled my hand in the air. “Sure, Lorenzo come on in to my office. I’m only half naked and this is inappropriate. You’re definitely welcome to just take your shoes off and get comfortable.” He scanned my room. “What type of movie?”

“Get out of my office.” “Fucking bitch!” the actor screamed behind me. “You nasty stinking whore!” Lorenzo frowned. “I’m thinking that’s no Disney flick?” “It’s book research.” I rushed to grab my laptop thankful he couldn’t see the screen. The last thing I would want him to think was that I loved to have sex with a leather mask on my face, screaming that he was my father. “Yes, Daddy!” the actress shrieked. “I’m so bad!” Lorenzo stepped inside my office. “Wait a minute. Is that a porno?” “No” I muttered. “Fuck me hard daddy!” the

actress moaned. “Make me squirt all over that dick daddy!” “Oh, my.” Lorenzo grinned. “It’s book research.” I charged for the mouse. It slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor. I bent over, forgetting that I wore no panties or that my shirt was too short. Lorenzo grunted behind me. “Goddamn you have a beautiful ass. It’s a work of art.” “Stop looking!” I grabbed the mouse, rose, and went back to my desk. “It’s a sculpture of soft flesh and just nice and fat in the perfect places.” “I get it. You like it.” I turned the porn off and stared back at him. Lorenzo had shifted his

concentration to my inversion table. He touched the leather straps for my ankles. “So. . .this is some sort of sex table?” “No.” Not really wanting to explain that I used it to hang upside down for writing, because that was damn sure more crazy than using it for sex. “Then, it’s more book research?” he asked. Embarrassed, I cleared my throat. “It really is related to books.” “Hmmm.” He flicked one of the buckles and licked his lips. “And that whip over there is more book research?” “Yes.” I covered my face. “Really. It truly is.” “I really should’ve considered

writing for a career. It’s clearly the sexiest profession out there.” “I think fire men are hotter.” “Is that right?” He drank me in. “Man. . .” “What?” “I’ve just learned something about myself today.” “What?” “I thought I was a gentleman. I’ve prided myself on the utmost care with women, giving them their space and privacy, but. . .fuck. I just can’t turn away right now.” He sighed. “I keep saying in my head. Turn around. Walk back into the living room, but—” “Your dick won’t let you.” I gave him a thumb up. “You’ve just realized

that you’re just like any other man.” “Am I?” “You’re walking around my house like you own it.” “No, I’m walking after you.” “Like you own me.” He licked those damn lips and snared me with his gaze. The next word came out as a groan. “Hmmm.” “Hmmm what?” I leaned against my desk and crossed my arms over my chest to hide my aching nipples. Only five feet were between us. He was too close. My body was already on fire and ready. Flames raged inside of me. Suddenly, I no longer wanted to play by myself. No. You can’t do it. This is going

to be a huge mistake. He had to get out of this room. He had to fucking leave, because every cell in my body yearned to feel him—inside of me, on top of me, behind and in front, on his knees and on my knees, positions and moaning and lapping and sucking and fucking until I couldn’t take any more. Until I tapped out. I was an inferno. A firestorm amidst the chaos of life and here he stood in that goddamn firefighter uniform. Muscles bulged and pressed at his shirt. I bet his cock hung long and thick. I bet he knew how to use it, too. In silence, we stared at each other for a long minute, speaking with our

eyes. His gaze kept darting to my thighs and hips. Each time he lowered it, he flexed his fingers and bit his lips. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t hide my desire. My lids hung lazy over my eyes. My center grew wet and hungry. I closed my legs together and squeezed my thighs. The folds of my pussy swelled and became sensitive, making the movements exquisite agony. Finally, he broke the silence. “That’s what you like?” “What?” “I’m talking about the porno. A guy yelling at you. Someone calling you a bitch during sex. That’s what you like?” “No, that’s not really my thing. I

just . .” “What?” Embarrassment fizzled some of the lust away. “I’m not going to stand here half naked and have a conversation with you about my porn selection for this morning.” “I only asked to find out what you liked. I want to know how to please you.” “It’s not hard. And, it certainly isn’t by calling me names. My selection of porn is typically the things that I wouldn’t do.” His voice drummed through me again. “Hmmm.” “Stop doing that, Lorenzo.” “What?”

“Sounding so. . .nothing.” “You’re lucky I have to go help out on a kindergarten field trip today. Someone called in sick. I took the hit and did him a favor.” “You’re a good guy.” “And you’re lucky I have to go to work.” My body hummed. “Why?” “Because if I had the time, I would put you on that desk and have you lay down as I licked between those thighs. I’ve been thinking about that since the beach.” My heartbeats increased. Watching him incited hot images in my mind— sexy and nail-clawing ones. “I wanted to see what that pussy

looked like,” he said. “I want to know, if it was as beautiful as I imagined it to be.” I licked my lips. My nipples stiffened more under my shirt. He pierced me with a lusty gaze. “Get on the desk.” “Why?” “Do it.” Not a proposal or a plea, but a seducing command. It came out sharp and sliced the air. An erotic jolt that woke my body up. I stood there completely exposed, even though my shirt still hugged my body. Every part of me, wanted to do exactly what he ordered. I took my time and climbed on the desk.

He leaned against the wall behind him. “Open your legs.” “Why?” “There are two types of people in this world.” I raised my eyebrows. “Ones that keep their legs closed and ones that always keep them open?” “No, but damn do I wish that was true.” He laughed. “Either way, there are two types of people in this world. The kind that will wait to open their gifts on Christmas morning, and the ones that have to search around for the present, peel back the wrapping a little bit, and peek at what they’re going to get.” He rubbed his lips. “Right now, I need a peek.”

“And you think this is going to be your present, one day?” “I know it will be mine. One night, I’ll be slipping my fingers between those legs and using my tongue to feast. My fingers to slide them in and out, testing your likes and dislikes. My dick to bring you to somewhere you’ve never been. But, right now, all I can do is wait and dream. Give me some color and beauty for my dreams tonight. Open your legs.” My pulse skipped a beat. “And then what? I don’t know if I’m ready to do anything with you. . .or. . .” The warning in his voice stroked my skin. “You’re not ready. Open those legs.” “Or what?”

“Or I’ll do it for you, and having me over there, right now, would not be a good thing. My cock is weighing down my pants, and all I want to do is free him and show you what he looks like. How he would taste in that pretty little mouth of yours. How he would feel thrusting inside of you. Are you wet?” My flesh heated. I tried to control my breathing. “Yes.” “Let me see.” I took my time spreading my legs apart. With each inch, I watched him come undone. It was a beautiful disaster. His breathing hitched louder and grew rougher. His teeth captured his bottom lip and were damn near close to tearing it off. He stood in controlled chaos,

appearing barely able to hold on. Once my legs were wide apart, he groaned and studied me, shaking his head and looking angry. “Do you always look so mad, when you’re turned on?” I asked. “Only when I know I can’t have what I want.” “You can’t?” I asked. “What if I said you could, just for this morning?” “Be careful, Kassie. I will fuck you until your black and blue and passed out on the floor. Trust me. You want me to take my time. Take it slow. Do not let the monster out of his cage.” Dripping in arousal, I shouldn’t have, but I said it anyway, “What if today I just rattle the monster’s bars?”

He damn near sneered, “What did you say?” “Never mind, you look like you’re going to punch me.” He groaned and rubbed his face with both of his hands. “Damn. Decisions. Decisions. Should I teach Mrs. Jones a little lesson, today or should I wait?” “Yeah. Yeah.” I sucked my teeth. “You’re big and bold until it’s time for action. Look at you now. I’m so wet and —” He charged for me. So fucking fast. I almost shrieked. But he didn’t touch me. Instead he dropped to his knees and got right in front my center. My legs shook. He was

right. I wasn’t ready. Then he said, “You would do this to me now.” “What?” “Make me consider being irresponsible.” “How?” I shivered as his breath brushed against my folds. “You know what I see?” “What?” “A beautiful opening. God’s greatest creation. And when I blow like this,” he blew against my folds, “I love how that pussy pulses and that honey drips out. Is it sweet, Kassie?” “Yes.” I panted. Edge laced his voice. “Taste it, Kassie. Tell me how she tastes.”

Slowly, I slipped my hands down to the center of my thighs, pushed my fingers into my warm center, and watched Lorenzo’s face go crazy. Madness skittered around his eyes as he continued to abuse that poor bottom lip. “I wish this was you.” Moaning, I thrust my fingers in and out. When I knew they dripped with me, I stopped playing with myself and sucked on each of them. “Hmmm.” He blew against my center again. “Let’s get this straight. Once I taste you, no one else is allowed to touch it.” “What?” “If I kiss your flower today, no one else touches the petals.”

I giggled. “Never ever?” “Don’t play with me, Kassie.” “I’m just saying. Is there some sort of expiration date on your control of my pussy?” “How about, I let you decide.” He inched in closer, but still didn’t kiss it. I tensed in anticipation. Ready for his lips to touch mine. It drove me crazy, made me want to shove his head to me, and ride the hell out of his face. He inhaled. “She smells good enough to eat.” “Then do it,” I whispered.” He stroked the inner curve of my thigh, placed his hands under them, and scooted me closer to his face. “Lie down.”

“Say please.” I giggled and laid back. “Please.” Instead of waiting for my response, he lapped at my folds and stopped all future smart quips from leaving my lips. His mouth had all of my attention. The most erotic sensation rushed through me—hot and boiling over, until I moaned. Groaning, he dragged his tongue along my folds, exploring my crease and wetting my flesh. To push me over the edge, he taunted my clit with his fingertips. “Oh.” I shivered. My thighs tensed and I panted grabbing the edge of my desk. Office supplies fell and crashed to the floor. It might’ve been a few outlines

for future novels. Maybe even a printer. I didn’t care. I was so close. I could see the orgasm rising. “Damn. You’re so wet.” He lapped at me like an old, thirsty man in front of the fountain of youth. “You’re close. Aren’t you?” A fog of pleasure dizzied me. My nipples ached. I let go of the desk and pinched both of them through my shirt, wishing I’d taken it off. My thoughts spun around in my head. His tongue kept my focus. There would be no one, but him, on my mind. “No big talk now, Mrs. Jones?” He slid his tongue deeper into me as his fingers tugged at my throbbing bud. “Eh ne oh,” I mumbled, bucking

into him. “Ni na no.” “Yeah, baby. That’s what my tongue does. It teaches you a new language.” He took his fingers out and sucked on my clit so gently, I groaned so loud the neighbors had to hear me. “Lo. . .Lorenzo,” “Yes, baby.” He circled around my clit. So much pleasure rained down. It blinded me. An orgasm slammed into my core and rocked me down to my fucking bones. I was a mess. My body quaked against him. If I didn’t have a kid, he probably would’ve thought I was a virgin, screaming so loudly and rubbing

against his mouth like I’d never seen dick before. I closed my eyes. Sloshing sounds ensued as he shifted to finger fucking and flicking his tongue against my clit. Then I came hard, legs high in the air, toes twisted here and there. Screams of passion from my lips. Drowning in ecstasy. Lightning striking me. I exploded. Color blurring into infinite melody. I was made whole and then broken apart. I was filled up and then emptied. Jesus!

I don’t know how long I laid on that desk with my feet up high and a silly drunk expression on my face, but time passed by and I still couldn’t move. Opening my eyes, I muttered between breaths. “You should put that in a bottle and sell it on the market.” “I’m taking your panties as payment.” He simply bent over, rummaged through my little pile of clothes, and snatched up my cotton underwear. Not my best cut or design, but then I hadn’t thought I’d be showing them to anyone. “Uh, not those. Get one out of my drawer.” “No I want the ones you’ve wore today, while you were wet and looking

at hard core porn.” “It was book research!” He stood above me, licked his lips, and gripped his crotch with both hands. “I have to go.” “What?” I dragged myself off, leaned too far on the edge, and fell off the damn desk. I crashed to the floor. Pain gnawed at my elbow. I’d banged it pretty badly. “Wait. Let me take care of you. I mean seriously. You deserve it.” “I can’t. I have to go to work.” He rushed away. “I’m already late. This was supposed to be a two-minute conversation.” “What was?” I hurried after him, stumbling a little. He marched out of the room. “Trust

me. I’m going now.” “But why did you come in the first place?” “Fuck.” He stopped in the hallway. “Yeah. My twins—” “They need to be picked up?” He raised his eyebrows. “No, but you would do that?” “If it was an emergency, sure.” “Interesting.” “Why?” “Most women don’t want to deal with other people’s responsibilities.” “News flash. Stop dating strippers.” He frowned. “What?” I asked. “I actually have dated a lot of

strippers. They prefer the term exotic dancers, by the way.” “I know. I frequent the strip club from time to time. I actually made some really good friends there. And that truly was for book research.” “Unlike the porn?” I blushed. “Yes.” “Hmmm.” He stared at me like he was about to lay me back down on the desk and lick me again. “What was the emergency?” I inched back. He came toward me, grabbed my waist, and pulled me into him. “Never mind.” “No. Not never mind. What were you—”

He consumed my lips—tongue diving tenderly into my mouth. I almost begged him to call in sick. Instead, I climbed out of those huge arms and backed away. “What was the emergency?” “I’d rather not discuss it now.” Like a caveman he grabbed his crotch and rubbed it. “I’d rather get another kiss before I go.” I blocked him from coming further. “What was the emergency?” He sighed. “My daughters think they need training bras. My sisters support this.” “Um.” I held in my laughter as long as I could. “Is that the emergency?” He frowned. “We’re talking about

my daughters wearing bras.” I chuckled and covered my mouth. “I’m sorry. Go ahead.” “So I was coming over to you to ask your professional opinion.” “And how am I an expert on this?” He gestured to my breasts. “You definitely have the qualifications to make this call.” “Lorenzo, if they are asking for training bras, then, buy them.” “They’re twelve. I have several more years.” “Actually, you don’t.” “Don’t these things come around sixteen?” He gestured to my chest. “These things are breasts and they come when they want to.”

“Fuck. I don’t know. When I was a kid, I only messed with the early growers. This doesn’t need to happen, now. And, the twins and I were doing fine. I was hoping to pass puberty altogether.” “Okay.” I struggled to keep it all in again, but instead I laughed louder. “You’re going to have to deal with it. Bras are in your future. Tons of them. Pink and white and lace and some with flowers and—” “Stop.” He covered his ears and stalked off. “You’re worse than my sisters. All of you think this is so funny. Laugh it up.” “I sure will,” I called after him. “And let me know if you want any help

picking out some sexy training bras.” “Not funny. If they end up getting something, it will be stiff cotton with buckles and straps and definitely not anything matching with the other stuff.” “Buckles?” I chuckled. “Ha ha. Have fun.” He grabbed the doorknob. “Wait until your son hits puberty.” Huh? The humor vanished. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Oh, no.” He grinned. “I don’t want to give away any spoilers. I want you to enjoy living in the house with a smelly constantly jacking off teenage boy. I’ll be over here with a bowl of

popcorn as you find white liquid tucked away in the oddest places.” “Ewww! Never.” I snapped my fingers. “My Rich will remain a boy forever just like Peter Pan.” “Yeah. You’ll see.” He got to the door and turned around. “Anyway, this morning was. . .very goddamned interesting. I’ll see you Friday night.” “Okay.” I chuckled some more and then tensed. “Wait. Friday night? What’s happening, then?” “Our date. I’ll pick you up at eight.” He opened the door and closed it behind him, before I could dispute the idea even further. “What date? I never agreed to a date!” But my body called me a liar.

If anything, my pussy was hoping for another meeting.

Chapter 14 Lorenzo Did her pussy have to taste that good? My cock was so hard I penguin walked away from Kassie’s house and barely got into the car without causing him pain. Once I got inside, I gritted my teeth and did my best to drive through the constant throb moving through my length. “She’s fucking killing me. First, the bikini at the beach, then, the kiss, and then, as if she’s not enough of a cock tease, she answers the door half naked.” I stopped in front of the red light and turned on the radio. “Kassie, I’m trying to be the good guy here, but you’re

pushing it.” “I want you all night baby,” the woman sang. “Inside of me. Loving me like no other.” I switched to another channel that played advertisements and started off as the light turned green. “Now, I’m fucking late, my dick is hard, and my face is smeared with her, and I don’t even want to wash it off. And, I’m supposed to speak to eighty kids about fire safety. Jesus!” I glanced at myself in the rear view mirror. “I’m talking to myself. She’s driving me fucking crazy.” The radio ads ended and a song came on. “I got that ass in the air,” some

guy rapped on the radio. “Motherfucker, I don’t care. I hit it right until the dawn, got her singing who’s the don? Ass bouncing all around, I like to smack that pretty brown—” I turned the radio off. The whole world was against me. I stopped at another light, and unzipped my pants. Not a good idea. My cock sprang free and dripped pre-cum like a leaky faucet. “Calm down. We’re going to work.” But I knew the truth as I rounded the corner, searched for an empty parking lot, and rushed in there. Once I parked, it was on. The throb couldn’t be stopped. The image of Kassie’s bare pussy wouldn’t leave my mind.

Her arousal still lay hot on my tongue. I spit on my hand and went to work, stroking him hard, doing all the things I wished I could do to her. She wasn’t ready, not emotionally or physically. I wouldn’t take my time, once I got inside. The way she affected me, I’d probably ram into her like a mad man. “You’re fucking killing me.” Usually, I stroked myself to faceless women. Most of the time a multiple amount all naked and curvy, slipping against my body and sucking anything they could. Today, my cock didn’t need a fantasy. Kassie’s image flashed in my

mind. I pretended she sat in the car, naked and begging me to use her anyway, I craved. More visions flashed in my head—her lips open getting ready to suck on my cock, her brown, plump ass in the air, jiggling in front of me. I bet those breasts had big areolas. At her house, her two points had stiffened and poked against her shirt. “I should’ve taken your damn shirt off to see what they looked like.” I grunted and fucked my closed fist some more. The car rocked. If anybody drove into the lot, they’d think two people were having sex inside my vehicle. It would be embarrassing if they rolled up and noticed it was only me.

“Kassie, you’ve got me acting like a pervert.” I pumped hard and stroked the top of my shaft. “That’s what you wanted. Didn’t you?” Being on the edge of exploding always reminded me of how men were definitely animals. On the outside, we walked around on our two feet, conversing and holding ourselves in a particular manner. In private, with our dicks out and visions of beautiful pussy in our head, we turned wild and as raw as can be. No true etiquette existed for a session like this. After licking Kassie until she came, I could no longer hold back. I pulled out her panties and covered my face with them.

A cop would’ve had a field day if he drove by my car to investigate. Since I knew most of the guys on the force, that shit would’ve ruined my reputation. “Lou has it so bad he’s sniffing her undies like a drug fiend!” But, how could I not? They were perfect, simple, white, and covered in her scent. I groaned even louder, “Kassie.” That’s right. Jack off with her panties on your face. You’re going to jail. I breathed in her scent as I punished my cock. Sweat trickled down the side of my face. My legs cramped and I didn’t care. I kept on pumping, rocking into my hand, and sniffing the

center of her panties. In my mind, Kassie was bouncing that big ass on top of me and I hoped to be deep inside, her wet arousal dripping down to my thighs. Creamy and sizzling hot, when my dick pumped hard and I came close to losing control all over her. “Goddamn it!” A shudder ran through me. I came so hard, it shot out onto the dashboard and steering wheel. But I wasn’t done. Pleasure crashed into my body so hard, all I could do was grunt and enjoy the devil’s ride. “Motherfucker!” I shuddered out of control, spilling onto my pants. It looked like a tube of lotion exploded in front of me. It was a thick spurt. A hot, white

stream. Running down my dick and slicking down my hands. All I could picture was Kassie, being a good girl and licking it up while cradled my balls in her soft fingers. When I get her, I hope I don’t hurt her. It took me about five minutes to come down from the high. I sat back with my dick out and sperm everywhere. She definitely rattled the monster’s bars today. Instead of getting myself together and starting the car, I picked up the phone and dialed the damn temptress that had caused all of the trouble. Kassie answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Don’t you hello me. You’ve got me in my car, jacking off like a teenager.” “What do you mean I’ve—” “Don’t you ever answer the door like that, again, unless you’re hoping that I’ll take you down to the floor, bend you over, and pound my very, very big cock into that sexy little hole of yours.” “Um. . .” “Now, I’m late.” “But you should’ve been there by now—” “You had me jacking off in my car! And now, I have to go the car wash.” Her voice went up an octave. “The car wash?” “Sperm is everywhere!”

“Um. . .” “Are you happy?” “But I—” “Sperm is everywhere!” I growled into the cell phone. “You don’t come around me without wearing your panties. Do we have an understanding?” “Yes,” she whispered. “Answering the door with only a shirt on equals hard core, doggy style sex in my living room.” “Good. Have a productive day, Kassie.” “But—” I hung up before she would have me turning around and begging for round two.

Chapter 15 Kassie Mama

Ganga showed up Monday afternoon. When I opened the door, she simply walked in with a big brown paper bag in one hand and her wooden cane in the right, the scent of cloves dotting her trail. She stepped into my living room and faced me. “Have you lived this weekend?” “Of course.” I stared at her cane, wondering what it would look like that day. She must’ve had a bunch of them, because this one was nothing like the others. In fact, the cane might’ve been banned to walk around with it in several

states. Rubies dotted the black handle. Moaning, nude bodies covered the length. Men and woman kissing. Tongues thrusting. Wet thighs touching and fingers fucking. And just like the flames on her first cane, the bodies seemed to move and sway to their own melody. Heat bloomed in my chest and I had to look away. “You have to give me your artist’s number.” “If you had my artist’s number, then you wouldn’t be in this trouble in the first place.” I stood there, trying to figure out that statement and gave up, “What does that even mean?” “You’re too scared for all of that.” She studied me from head to toe. Those

gray eyes looked like they were about to glow right in front of me. “Interesting. You sure did live. What did you do?” “I worked out at the gym and spent time with my son.” I uncomfortably shifted my weight. “I went to the beach, too.” A wrinkled smile spread across her face as she took me in some more. “You’ve been doing other things too, huh? You smell less scared, and there’s some confidence peeking out around your eyes.” “What?” “Where’s your dining table?” Dismissing my question, she headed off to the back sensing where it was. What’s up with people just

walking around my place like they own it today? I followed behind her. When we entered the dining area, she went to the dining table, placed her erotic cane on a chair, and set the bag down. “Here we go.” “What are we doing today?” I asked. Mama Ganga took out a blindfold. It was intriguing. Made from a shiny blue satin, wooden beads and seashells outlined the part around the eyes. Feathers and tiny white bones decorated the front in a swirling pattern. I’d never seen anything like it before. It looked like a little kid’s art project on voodoo. Next, she placed a large plastic bottle

full of a green, murky liquid. The label had been ripped off the front. Whatever was in it, had not been the intention of the manufactures. My face scrunched up in an odd expression while I leaned in further and studied the stuff on the side of the bottle. Crosses had been smeared on it with some red paint. Something told me it could’ve been blood, too, but that had to be crazy. What type of woman would write holy things in blood? Probably a woman named Mama Ganga. “Go ahead and drink this.” She twisted the top off and handed it to me. I grabbed the bottle, careful not to touch the red crosses, just in case it was

blood. “What is it?” She picked her cane back up and leaned on it a little. “It’s a special tea.” “Made with what?” I sniffed the top. A raw sewage-like odor irritated my nose. “Oh, God. Better yet, never mind. I don’t think I want to know.” “Drink it.” “I’m not drinking this. It smells like someone took a dump in pea soup.” “Sounds like good eats to me.” She flashed perfect, white teeth. “Now, drink. You’ve already run out naked in the water in broad day light. Didn’t you start writing, after that?” “Yes.” “Are you still interested in doing more with that story or others?”

“I’m getting there.” “Then drink, Kassie. Drink. Drink. Drink.” She slammed her cane against the floor. Boom. Boom. Boom. “Drink. Drink. Drink and you will write. Write. Write.” She’s butt-balled crazy! But I have done dumber things. I might as well drink something nasty. What’s the worst that could happen? Well. . .I could die or get poisoned or have to go to the hospital. What would happen to Rich and Mom? Who would I— “Get out of your head! And drink!” Mama Ganga slammed her cane against the floor again. Boom. Boom. Boom. “Fine,” I said. “Just please chill

out with the cane.” She flashed her teeth again. “Drink and stop whining.” Holding my nose, I brought the bottle up to my mouth and gulped as much as I could. This is just wrong. Nothing should be made this way. Oh God. It’s like grass and dead things. I almost threw the stuff up a few times, especial when a few chunky things slipped over my tongue. What the hell was that?! No. Don’t think about it. You can do this. It’s almost done. When I finished, I let go of my nose and gasped for air and peace for my tongue. “Never. I can never, ever

drink that, again.” “Let’s hope you won’t have to.” She returned to her brown bag and placed a small radio on the table along with two alligator skin gloves and several candles. “We’re going to clean your senses. Get the fear out of them. Sit down.” I did. “Clean my senses?” “Yeah. They’re drenched in fear. You can’t get anything done, when you’re drowning in fear. Now, close your eyes.” “Wait a minute. I don’t like to be —” “Shush!” She placed the blindfold over my face. The world left me. Pure darkness

served as my reality. Tension hardened the back of my neck. My nerves flared on edge. My stomach grumbled in unease. Whatever I’d drank was not a healing liquid. I felt like throwing up. I don’t like this. I think I’ve gone too far with the experimentation here. Mama Ganga’s throaty voice scratched against my skin. “Has anyone ever blindfolded and tied you up?” I stirred in the hard wood chair. “No.” “Weren’t you married?” “Yes.” Her voice came from behind me. “How long?” I jumped and turned her way, even though I couldn’t see her. “Too long. We

hit ten years.” Then she spoke from my other side, “Ten years and he never blindfolded and tied you up? It must’ve been boring in the bedroom.” She’s a fast moving old woman, and quiet too. How’s she so silent with the cane. “You rotted away in that marriage.” “Is that a question?” I asked. “It’s the truth. You didn’t trust your own husband to tie you up?” I didn’t want to admit it, but I did. “No. It freaked me out to not have control of my hands, legs, and vision around him. I don’t know why.” “You know why. He was not to be

trusted.” “Maybe.” A throaty hiss came on my right. “That’s it. He was not to be trusted. Whenever he showed his true self to you, you understood it, but still you stayed. Why?” “I didn’t want to be alone.” “And now you’re all alone.” “What does this have to do with writing?” “You’re all by yourself, little Kassie.” A shrill laugh came from her. “You’re all by yourself. Nobody hugs you at night. Nobody kisses your lips. Nobody wants to lie next to Kassie.” “Okay. Let’s stop.” I reached up to pull the thing away from my face, but I

found I couldn’t even move my hands. Nothing was around them, but I couldn’t even lift a finger. No! What’s going on? I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Oh, my God! What’s going on?! What the fuck is going on?! And then Mama Ganga spoke from my side, scaring the shit out of me. Her warm breath brushing against my skin and sending anxious shivers through me. “You’re all alone. You’re all alone. You’re all alone.” Shut up! What did you do to me? “Oh, poor Kassie doesn’t have anyone to love. She’s all alone. By herself. No one to protect her. No one to

heal her. No one to tell her she’s beautiful. She’s all alone.” No, I’m not, you crazy bitch! What did you do to me? She banged her cane against the floor over and over as she sang a song, “Who’s going to kiss poor Kassie?” Boom. “Who’s going to give her a hug?” Boom. “Who’s going to love poor Kassie?” Boom. “Who’s going to give her love?” Shut up! Shut up! I’ve got people who love me! I’ve got my son to hug and kiss. I’ve got options, you crazy woman! And I’ve got me. Me. Me. Me. I

will love me and you can just go back to the devil! Mama Ganga’s laughter filled the kitchen. The loud shrill knocked me out of my mental rant. Then the kitchen went quiet for too damn long. The silence set me further on edge. I couldn’t move my body, just breathe in her earthy scent of cloves. I knew she was around me, but she felt near in a different way, like her energy was there, but not her. I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but for some reason as the silent seconds passed by, my body calmed. What is she going to do to me? Kill me? What is this? Is it voodoo? Did she drug me! She must’ve drugged

me, but with what? Maybe she gave me a date rape drug. Jesus! She’s fucking insane! “Get out of your head, little Kassie,” she hissed. “I’ve scared you.” That’s a fucking understatement. “Calm down.” How the hell do I do that, you crazy bitch?! “I want you to count.” Count what? Will I be counting the cops that are going to take your ass to jail once I get my movement back. “No, Kassie.” She laughed, and that scared me most of all. “I want you to count your blessings. I want you to count the books that you will write and the things that you will do. Count the men

that you will love and the kisses that you will give to your son as he grows bigger and bigger each day. I want you to wake up in the morning and count the clouds in the sky, then, count the leaves on the closest tree to you and then, count the ants that crawl by and the birds that fly in the air and every breeze that brushes your skin, for that day. I want you to count yourself lucky and remember that you’re a survivor. I want you to go back to your memories and count the times you failed and then, count the times you broke through those barriers to win again. I want you to count.” And, for some bloody ass crazy reason, I did. I tallied it all. Everything. The failures and successes. The stormy

days and the ones filled with sunshine. I remembered the times Rich told me he loved me and all his little teeth that had fallen out, recently. I counted the days I had left with him and then, counted my blessings for each one. Low music filled the dining room - something soft and soothing to the mind. Darkness swarmed all around me along with the fragrance of rose scented candles. Mama Ganga made no sound and it felt like I had been sitting in there for hours, counting beautiful blessings in my head. The next thing I knew, someone tapped me on my shoulder. Did I go to sleep? I shook my head and realized I

could move it, as well as my hands. I jumped up and snatched off the blindfold, scanning my kitchen. It took me a minute to get my vision back, but once it came, I discovered that Mama Ganga and all of her things had disappeared, including the blindfold that I’d just taken off. “Mama Ganga?” I walked to the front and looked outside to see if her car was there. “Mama Ganga?” Only my car sat in front of the house. I walked around to the back of my house. I had a feeling I should check out my office. The computer screen was on. My story about Luna greeted me. A sheet of paper lay on the keyboard.

Kassie, I love the story—keep writing it. Keep learning from life and putting it on the page. Mama Ganga (By the way, your office smells like sex.) Laughing, I sat down at the computer, not ready to deal with what just happened, but ready to put it all on the page. I checked my watch. I only had an hour before I had to grab Rich. So, I typed as fast as I could. . . “Where are you?” Lust blinded Luna, but still she called out to her soul mate. Surely, he would appear soon and save her from this demon. “Hurry to me!”

Then the flames went out. Her ancestor’s magic disappeared. Her strong wall, that had been high and burning, transformed into tiny wisps of smoke. The line in the sand that had represented her circle, cleared away into nothing. It was as if she’d never spilled her own blood or scattered the dead’s ashes on the beach. Everything left. Including the blaze of the fire. Now only darkness and the moonlight remained. And the red glow of the Demon’s eyes, as he stepped toward her. “Come to me, little witch.” Her body came alive, even though her mind screamed in fear.

Lovely shivers ran p and down her skin as if he’d been caressing her body himself. He stalked toward her. No wall or barrier lay in his way. “Now you can’t run. You’ve emptied yourself out with all that needing.” The moonlight bathed his dark, muscular skin. Power radiated from him. The whole area blazed with energy. She moistened some more. Her thighs dripped with arousal. She’d never been so turned on before. “You’re empty, my love, but I will fill you.” And then the creature sang again, “So sweet. Her soul. It hangs out of her body for me. And my love will set her free. And our hearts

are the victory.” His silver horns sparkled as he prowled around her. “So sweet. Her soul. Ripe fruit. So heavenly. It bleeds out to me. And our hearts are the victory.” And so she gave up. One could only fight the inevitable for so long. One could only deny the things that they dreamed of for so long. One could only tighten their ears to the melody, shut their eyes to the beauty, and squeeze their thighs for release, but not for too long. “And our hearts are the victory.” High off the demon’s seduction, she opened her eyes and then her legs.

“Come to me.” My phone buzzed. “Fuck! Leave me alone.” I hurried to check it and sighed, when I spotted the name. “Well, I guess you can bother me.” Lorenzo: I’m sorry I yelled at you today and hung up. Me: I wouldn’t call that yelling. I would call that being in love with the Coco. Lorenzo: So I’m already in love? My heart stopped for a second as the phone lay in my hand. I decided to take the punk way out and typed him something else. Me: Why did you need to go to the car wash? He didn’t respond. Lorenzo sent a

picture instead. It must’ve been right at that moment. He lay in his bed with no shirt on and looking extremely tired. That kindergarten field trip must’ve taken everything out of him. Those muscles rippled under that tan skin. On the side of his pillow sat my panties. Lorenzo: I’m picking you up at eight on Friday night. Is that fine? My nerves frazzled. A little sneaking of fun made me excited, but a full on sit-down with him had me anxious as hell. Me: I’m not sure I can make it. How about next Friday? Lorenzo: No, I’m picking you up at eight. Did you need a babysitter? I

know several. Really? You’re just going to tell me that I can’t say no. Me: No. I’m just a little sick. Lorenzo: I make the best chicken soup in Florida. It heals the body. I can make some up, bring it by, and have you good to go by Friday. Me: Fine. I’m scared to go on the date. Not sick. Lorenzo: Good. What a quick recovery? Be ready at eight. For several minutes, I stared at the screen and wondered what I could say to slow him down. He’d said he would take his time. I told him I wasn’t ready. Yet, he bulldozed his way into my Friday evening, and a large part of me jumped

in anticipation. What if the night goes bad? What if he’s just a douche bag after all? A hot one, but still another man that should be neutered. My phone buzzed. I pressed on his message. Lorenzo: I only want to see you. We don’t have to call it a date. Relaxing, I typed. Me: Okay. Lorenzo: No pressure. No expectations. Just you and me. Me: I’ll make sure to wear panties. Lorenzo: Hmmm. Remember. Count the blessings and. . .something else. Oh yeah, and

don’t ever drink or eat anything around Mama Ganga. Maybe even consider pressing charges against her crazy behind. And. . .count the blessings and stop being afraid. I texted him back. Me: Friday night sounds good. I have tons of questions to ask you, too. I hope you don’t mind a little book research while on a date. It’s one of the disadvantages of dating a writer. Lorenzo: That’s fine. You’re in need of a sexy hero, and as always, I am here for you. Steal all of me, if necessary. Me: You’re so humble. My phone buzzed again. I checked the message and groaned in

disappointment. It was my ex-husband. Ellis: I’ll be up there sometime this weekend. Me: When? Ellis: Sometime this weekend. Let’s not pretend like you have plans.

Chapter 16 Lorenzo On

Wednesday night, I drove down Tamiami Trail. My gut said to check on Cicely. The week had been going well. I’d started back to work with no problems. No major fires. No death. Everything flowed beautifully. The girls stayed with my mom and enjoyed the new bras I bought them, while doing my best not to vomit in the department store. Life was great. But, guilt continued to tug at my heart, and even with all the amazing conversations I’d had with Kassie, I still couldn’t get this dark feeling out of me. One night, I took a break and went for a

late drive lasting until the wee morning hours. Gray clouds shielded the moon. It was darker than ever in Sarasota. Although a beach town, most places closed by midnight. Almost the entire city appeared abandoned, except for Tamiami Trail. Dealers prowled the pavement. Hookers waved at cars. Truckers honked their horns at a few blowing by. Men scurried in the shadows, moving their heads from side to side hoping no one would see them, right as they dipped back into the darkness. No one sensible would be around there. Yet I drove up and down the trail for about an hour.

I needed to check on Cicely. “Where are you?” I rounded the corner again and did a quick U-turn. Other cars zoomed by. Few took their time like me. Some even stopped in front of a girl or two, spoke very fast, and picked a female up. Then they’d pull up into one of the shabby hotels that outlined the trail and probably finish their business transaction. “Why would you do this, Cicely?” I rolled down the window. The stench of despair filled the car. Several women dragged themselves down Tamiami appearing more like zombies than human. Their clothes hung from their skeletal bodies much like Cicely’s had. There was no

mistaking what they were. I swallowed. What the hell can I do for my girls to make sure they don’t end up this way? Further, down the road, a black man sat in a wheel chair and read from a book with a flashlight. He wore an army jacket and black hat with buttons pinned all over it. Sure, buddy. You’re reading in the dark as you sit in your wheel chair parked on the sidewalk? You probably got a gun on you or something. Whose pimp are you? Do you even really need a wheelchair or is it just a seat? I slowed, put on my hazard lights, and stopped in front of him. “Excuse

me? Have you seen a woman named Cicely around here?” He didn’t look up from his book. “Why?” “I want her.” “For what?” He flipped his book. I knew I couldn’t say to have sex with. I was sure everyone out there feared the cops, and I was definitely not a regular on this road. “I owe her some money.” He paused from reading and looked at me. “You got cash for her and me? I get a little finder’s fee, right?” “Of course.” “How much?” he asked. “Twenty?” “Fifty.”

From the streets myself, I decided to call his bluff. “Naw, man. I don’t need to give her this money that badly.” I pretended to drive off. He raised his flashlight at me, before my hands touched the steering wheel. “Okay. I’ll take twenty.” He gestured behind him. “Pull into the parking lot.” I turned off the hazard lights, took the parking brake off, and did just what he’d said. In the rear view mirror, his image greeted my eyes. He took his sweet time wheeling himself down the sidewalk and then over to me. The closer he got, the more I realized he had some big arms. I don’t know if he’s paralyzed, but

he definitely has upper body strength. Once he got to my window, his rancid body odor assaulted me. I shifted to breathing out of my mouth. “Where is she?” A walkie-talkie rested on his legs. The guy flashed the light into the car while taking my measure. You don’t want this, buddy. I don’t care how many muscles you’ve got on your arm. If it’s you against me, it’s going to be me. I’ve got more to live for. Girls to take care of and a woman to love. As if he heard me, he wheeled himself back a little. “Where’s my money?” I pulled out a twenty and showed

him. “Where is she?” “So you owe her money?” “Yeah.” “Cicely don’t let nobody owe her anything. She makes sure everyone pays up right on time.” He placed his other hand into his jacket. “So who are you again?” “I’m her ex-husband.” Disbelief showed on his face. “You trying to reunite with that sweet little lady.” “No. We have kids together. I’m trying to help her.” “That makes more sense. She said she had an ex that’s a hero. She claims she got the most beautiful girls ever seen in the world. Says they are smart and

going to be something big one day.” “She’s right.” “Good. Cicely ain’t that bad, when you don’t bother her.” He pointed to the crappy hotel. “She’s in room 291. They call me The Vet. You need to find her or something else, just stop over here and I’ll roll over.” “Okay.” “Just know that I’m no hero.” Frowning, he took his hand out of his jacket. “And I don’t do anything for free.” “Got it.” I looked to where he gestured. The owner had called it Oasis. Perhaps back in the early 1900s the sign had been a work of art with a beautiful

painting of the beach and a sun setting into the ocean. Now it was a disaster. Someone had graffited the sign. They’d made the sun a woman with a large open mouth and a bulging penis dripping stuff onto her lips. They’d even put a big H in front of the name and an E and dash before the a. Instead of Oasis, it was now Hoeasis. What a great bunch of kids? Just adding to the positivity over here. Blue paint cracked all over the brick foundation. Bed sheets hung from some of the room’s windows replacing the curtains the owner didn’t purchase. The place looked like it was under construction. Some doors had a taped X

over the door and out of order signs in the middle. The parking lot was filled with large potholes and cracks. The dumpster over flowed with the oddest things--a leather-covered mannequin stuck out of the top, as well as bags of clothes and boxes of glass bottles. The place was a dump. Yet, cars packed the place and people walked in and out of rooms. I turned back to him. “Are you sure it’s 291?” “Yeah.” I gave him the twenty and he rolled away, right as I got out of the car. He was fast, too, just using one hand to move as he spoke into his walkie-talkie. He must be somebody’s look out.

After locking all the doors, I left my car there and thanked God that more expensive and shiny cars sat in the lot. If someone hoped to steal one, it probably wouldn’t be mine. Real money flowed here. Many of the vehicles were foreign and brand new. Some big timers lay their fat bellies in these shabby beds, possibly doing disgusting things to women who were already dead inside. Why? That one word ran in my head repeatedly. Why, God, would you allow this? Why is this okay? Why can’t everyone get out of this? Why am I here today? A cold wind blew by me. At fifty degrees, it was the chilliest night for this

fall. I found the stairs and climbed them to the second floor. On one side, no railing existed. It was a clear building violation, but I doubted that the city even cared. A sticky substance stuck to the railing that I used. A fog of smoke lingered on the top, and it wasn’t the kind from marijuana. It smelled too chemical and rotten. Too evil and destructive. I could taste the corruption in the air and it was hard to swallow. Plus, I knew I would never forget that flavor or the sadness that clung in the air. Damn you, Cicely. Why would you stay in this place? Are you really that far gone? Well, you’ve turned to the streets. You must be. Will I even be able

to save you? Thank God, her room stood all the way at the end. Thank God, it was one with real curtains hanging in a clean window next to a door that definitely worked. Thank God, I hoped the power of Him walked on this level with me. Or, I probably would’ve never been able to make the long trek down this shadowed path where women groaned loudly and men grunted and others screamed and cried through the doors. Thank God, that Cicely was the mother of my kids, because a few times, I almost stopped and turned around. I was a big guy with enough muscle to make many men think several times before messing with me, yet terror beat

loud in my ears and my blood surged cold and frosty through my veins. A few times, strange shadowed faces peeked out from bed sheet covered windows and ragged doors. Thank God, I didn’t jump and show them all how weak of a target I’d become. Why am I here? What am I even going to say? Hey, Cicely. I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. If a cop catches me around here, it’s going to raise some questions. Granted, they’ll test me and see I didn’t use any drugs, but would they think that I was there for prostitutes? I made it to room 291, inhaled, exhaled, and knocked. Cicely’s cold voice came through

the door. “I’ll be done in a minute.” Some guy grunted. “Never mind.” She laughed. “I’m done. Give me a second.” Shuffling came from the other end, and then, whispers. Keys dangled and some clothes ruffled and then, the door opened. A fat piece of crap guy walked out. He reeked more than the guy in the wheel chair. I would’ve bet a hundred dollars that he’d gone to the bathroom in his pants. Those battered things hugged his fat legs and showed dark, wet spots on his big behind. Jesus Christ. What are you doing to yourself, Cicely? Naked, she stepped outside and her eyes widened. “No way. No fucking

way. Don’t tell me you want a ride on the dark side, tonight?” “Put some clothes on. We have to talk.” I tried to walk into her shabby, dark room, but she blocked my way. Too bad, she hadn’t hidden the view. She had the lights off. But, moonlight cast the bed in a horrifying glow. Crumbled sheets lay in a pile on the floor. It was just a dirty mattress with glass pipes next to a pillow. I stepped back, not wanting to go in there anyway. Fear filled her eyes. “Did something happen to the girls?” “No.” She exhaled. “Oh. Good.” At least she cares that they are

alive. At least the drug hasn’t burned away all of her heart. She made no move to cover herself as she came all the way out of the door. “Why are you here?” “I want to take you out of here and help you.” “How are you going to help me, Sweet and Low?” She reached out to touch me, and I stepped back. “I can do better than this.” I gestured to the hotel. “You can do better than this.” “What?” She tossed me a mocking look. “You’re not impressed with Hoeasis?” “No,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m not impressed at all. Let me

get you out of here.” “And where would I go? Back to your house with the girls? You’re going to let me sit in your house by myself? You trust me around the girls when you’re not around?” “We’ll figure out something, Cicely. I just can’t let you do this to yourself.” “And what am I doing?” “Killing yourself, slowly.” “No, baby. I’m making some money” She grabbed my crotch. I knocked her hand away. “Stop touching me.” “It’s one hundred for a BBFS.” “What the hell is that?” “Sex without a condom.”

“Jesus!” I said it a little louder than I wanted. How could she ruin herself this way? I wanted to punch her or the wall or the fucking world or parents that created this hate inside of her. No. I can’t have her in the house or around the girls. It’s one thing for her to ruin her own life, it’s another to ruin mine and our daughters. Then what would Kassie say? Would she even understand? How would the girls feel to see her this way? Maybe she could stay with Mom. Wearing bored expression, Cicely crossed her arms over her chest. “Either go or come inside to fuck me.” “Tell me what I can do to help you

get off the drugs.” She laughed. “You think I would be better off without them? I’m even worse.” “What do you mean?” “Leave me alone. You’re just doing this for your conscious. You feel bad because that’s how your mother raised you. Well my mother raised me different. She taught me that my pussy was worth more than anything at eight years old. Had me giving blowjobs before I even got my period. It’s a wonder I didn’t have AIDS by the time I met you, but guess who has it now?” My hands shook at my sides. My insides threatened to crumble and take me down with them.

“I’m going to put your mind at ease. Let’s finally give your conscious some peace,” she said. “I love you.” My voice was just a weak and pathetic thing. “What?” “I love you. You’re the only one that tried. You’re the only one that cared. I love you and our beautiful twins.” A weak smile showed on her face. “But the problem is I love getting high more. I can’t walk around unless I’m numb and all the thoughts and memories are just fading, blurring visions in my mind.” “But I bet if you talked to someone and went to a facility they could help you.” “I know and I don’t care. That’s what you have to understand. I know

there’s a way to be better, but it looks too square. This is what I want, and I love you for giving it to me.” She scratched her arms. I shook my head. “You’re high now, aren’t you? You’re making no sense.” “I’m always high, Sweet and Low. Now either come inside the room or go.” “But Cicely—” “I love you because you take care of the only reason why I was put on this earth. You’re a good man to my girls. That’s why I was born. Did you know that?” I had nothing else to say. My heart had broken too much from hearing that she had AIDS.

“Sometimes at night, I dream about what they will look like when they’re women. I bet one of them will be President of the United States. It could happen.” She stared at me with hope. “Right?” “Yes. It could happen.” “Hope is going to be an amazing artist. She’s going to change the world. What was that thing you always used to say? You got it from one of those damn books you would read. Our purpose is making things—” “Our purpose is to co-create the world with God. To help him make it better.” “That’s right.” She nodded and backed up into her dingy room. “I’ve

done my purpose. I’ve made two girls that will rule the world. Now leave me alone, unless I need something.” “Cicely—” “You said that when we die, we become energy.” “I. . .it’s just one of my many theories. But, Cicely we should—” “Yeah, you said God is a great energy. A huge power, and that we all return to that energy and swim and flow and then we’re reborn into someone else and back to the world to co-create again?” “Cicely, I don’t know. I might’ve said that once. Sometimes, I’m just happy to see God’s energy around me.” Cicely smiled as if I confirmed that

theory, and that the confirmation was enough. “Then I’m going to be okay. Goodnight, Sweet and Low. Try not to get stabbed or robbed, before you get back to your car.”

Chapter 17 Kassie Mama

Ganga never showed up the rest of the week. It didn’t matter. I’d been writing, a lot—my Luna story and something new. To Sam’s possible delight, I’d decided to steal from my own life and pen a fire fighter romance. I damn sure had the material, and Lorenzo would be a perfect hero to model my male character from. The phone rang, before I could finish typing out the third chapter in the new novel. I put the device to my ear. “Hello?” Lorenzo’s words flowed in my ears. “I just needed to hear your voice,

Kassie.” He sounded odd. I leaned back in my chair. “Needed or wanted to hear my voice?” The word cracked over the line. “Both.” I blinked. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing you can help me with.” “Why not?” “Because the situation can’t be helped.” “Why not?” I asked again. “Because the person is already lost.” “Who?” He paused. “You don’t want to say.” I asked. “No.”

“Why not?” I asked again. “Because the situation would probably scare you away.” “I don’t scare that easily.” “Bullshit, Kassie. You’ve been scared since day one.” “Well. . .” Okay. He’s got me there. “Well. . .I’m cleansing the fear out of my senses, so I may not be as easy to get rid of as you think. What’s going on? In fact, hold on.” “Okay.” I saved my work, shut off my computer, and headed to my bedroom. Once the door closed behind me, I took off my clothes and got in bed. “Tell me what happened,” I said as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The moon’s pale light lit up some of the room while my sheer curtains danced in the cool breeze coming through the window. It was colder than usual, but I loved a little chill. Cold temperatures called for a pile of comfy blankets and a good novel next to a fire place. Getting under my huge comforter, I said, “Lorenzo, please tell me.” “Okay, baby.” Then he told me the saddest story of a woman who’d lost her way and she’d turned to the streets, drugs, and dirty men. That she’d abandoned two beautiful daughters and manipulated an amazing man. That she’d spent more of her days destroying her body than

building it up, and that she could be withering away while he spoke. Close to the end of the story, his voice cracked and I thought he’d been crying. My heart broke for him and his girls. “Kassie. . .I’m sorry.” He sniffled a little and then, cleared his throat. “I have to go. I don’t know why I even called and told you all of this. It’s too soon to be dumping all of my baggage onto you.” “If this is the only baggage, then, sign me up. Trust me, Lorenzo. I’ve dealt with evil. You’re not evil. You’re not the villain. You really are the hero.” He chuckled. “And are you my heroine?”

“Yes. I’m a kick-ass one. I can save your ass in every scene.” He laughed a little more. “Are you ready for Friday night?” Oh shit. I forgot to figure that out. “Um. . .so since we’re unloading.” I thought about the text that Ellis had sent. “I should probably explain to you that I’ve done some things too. We should just get it all out here.” “Okay.” “I shot my ex in the leg.” “What did he do?” Lorenzo asked. “What did he do?” I was shocked. “I’m surprised you didn’t hang up.” “I guess it matters what he did.” “He cheated on me more times than I could count. I found out from watching

his disgusting videos of him having sex with women and men in our bedroom. And learning that he wore no condom. Oh, wait. I’m STD free. I’ve been checked and everything—” Lorenzo’s laughter filled the line. “I know you’re fine. You take good care of yourself. I can see it every time I look at you.” I stirred uncomfortably at his compliment. “So anyway, I became enraged, showed up at his office, and shot him in the leg. There. That’s me. I’m crazy.” Silence passed for a few seconds and then he spoke, “What does that have to do with my seeing your lovely face, Friday night?”

“You still want to see me?” “A moment ago, I cried like a baby and you’ve been spending all this time consoling me. We both have damaged pasts. Let’s make a beautiful future. Are you ready for our date?” “I am. I might have to reschedule for next weekend, though. Apparently, my ex-husband, Ellis is coming up here to see Rich this weekend and he didn’t say which day. I’m assuming he’ll be here Friday night. That kind of. . .look, I haven’t seen him in a while and him coming up kind of sets me on edge. I should probably focus on that, instead of —” “No, let’s keep our date for Friday.”

“But—” “Whether he comes or not, I’ll wait for your call, dressed and ready to impress that night. And if you have to cancel, I’ll be fine.” Then his voice grew dark. “And if you have to shoot your ex again, call me and I’ll handle him for you.” “Um, that sounded a little scary.” “That doesn’t mean you don’t call me if he gives you a problem.” “What are you going to do?” “Take care of it in a nice way.” He tried to sound cheery, but I could tell that there was violence in between the words. He did say he had an anger problem. How bad is it?

“I’m a good guy,” he added. “Being a lieutenant, I’m always doing homework or paperwork. It’s constant relearning of old techniques and then studying new technology for fire safety. Then you have my crew and their emotions. I’m a pro at managing men’s emotions.” “Men have emotions?” I joked. “I’m intrigued.” “Good men have emotions,” he corrected. “And I should say I’m good at managing people’s emotions.” “You have women on your crew?” “Two. I constantly have to understand good conflict resolution because we’re all like this big family. Shifts last a forty-eight hours. We get

ninety-six hours off and then it’s back to our station for another twenty-four together. People start to get annoyed about small things. This person didn’t clean up this or put that amount into the food budget. Some fall in love or in lust and that carries its own set of problems. It’s a soap opera half the time.” “I should come down there with a notebook and get some inspiration.” “Hmmm.” “Stop that.” “I would like it, if you came down. But, it would be a bad idea. I do have to focus, and I wouldn’t be thinking about anything else but you while you were there.” “Hmmm,” I whispered.

“Stop it, Kassie. I’m in my car and damn close to your house. It would only take several turns and speeding through a few red lights.” Smiling, I moaned, “Hmmm.” “You’re playing with fire.” “Then maybe I need to call a fire man. Do you know any that are on duty tonight?” “I’m the only one you need to know. Where’s Richard?” “Sleeping in his bed.” “Hmmm. No. I can’t come over like that. I don’t want him waking up and finding me in the morning unless we’ve really figured it out.” “Who said anything about me letting you spend the night?”

“Trust me. You’ll want me to spend the night.” “You brag.” “No, I tell the truth. Is your bedroom door closed?” The word came out in soft whisper. “Yes.” “Are you on your bed?” “Yes.” “Take off your panties?” “They’re off.” “Hold up.” His tone shifted to erotic. “Are you naked?” “That’s how I like to sleep.” “You’re ruining my ability to be a gentleman, Kassie.” I slipped my fingers between my thighs. “I’m naked and touching my

pussy.” “Damn, baby. Put the phone to your pussy.” I giggled. “Why?” “Because, I want to talk to her for a minute.” “Didn’t you already say enough to her on Monday.” “No. Hold on. I’m pulling over.” “Why?” “Because, I’m rock hard right now. Because you’re sexy as fuck and about to make me have an accident. Because, you’re a temptress that gets off on me losing control. Because, I’m a sexual maniac apparently and I’ve met my match. Because, you’re the sexiest women I’ve ever encountered.”

My whole body throbbed with desire. “Why the sexiest? Is it because I like to play with my pussy, while I talk to you?” “Yes and yes to anything else you can think of.” Something beeped on his side. “Is this one of the advantages of dating an erotica writer?” “One of them. We tend to be horny more than regular authors.” I slid my fingers into my pussy. “Oh, Lorenzo. I wish you were here.” “Me too, baby. Do you even understand how delicious you tasted? I couldn’t even drive for more than ten minutes without touching myself.” My breathing was heavy. “Are you touching yourself right now?”

He groaned. With a wicked smile, I whispered to him, “Are you stroking your cock right now?” “Yes, you devilish woman, you. My fingers are wrapped around him and I’ve spit in my hand., Now, I’m smearing it all around the tip and thinking about how good it would be to have your lips here, sucking and making me go crazy.” I sped up my finger fucking. “I’m such a good girl. I bet you’d like how I could do it.” “Oh, yeah.” Insanity coated his words. “Tell me more or let me come and see this for myself.” “I want you to listen to something else. I want you to know how wet I am.”

Full of sexual evilness, I placed the mouth of my phone between my legs and sloshed my fingers around. He must think I’m fucking crazy. Fine. I am, and if he’s going to be with me, then he’ll have to deal with all of me. Meet Kassie the horny writer. I set the phone back at my ear. “Damn you. Put the phone back,” he begged. “There were more things that she had to say!” I giggled. “You loved that?” “If I come to your door, will you come outside and sit in my car for a minute?” “Absolutely not. I think you want to touch my naughty parts.” “No, Brown Sugar. I want to do

more than touch you. I want to consume you. Eat you until you’re raw and wasted. I want to devour and conquer, reap and fucking sow.” “Reap and sow?” “I’m going to plant seeds!” “Uh. . .” “Too much?” He chuckled. “I’m not sure.” I slid my fingers in and out. “I’m getting creamier and creamier.” “Oh God. I have to have you. At this rate, I’m going to be fucking you on the first date before you open your mouth and say hello.” “Then should I get on my knees as soon as you show up at the door step.” Words didn’t come next. Instead,

he whined like an injured dog. “You’re killing me, Kassie.” “Pump that hand for me, baby.” “Yes, Brown Sugar,” he panted. “I’m so hungry for you.” “Trust me. I’ve got enough to fill your appetite.” “Oooo.” Ecstasy ripped through me as I sped up my finger’s caresses. “Oh, Lorenzo.” “Oh say that again.” “Lorenzo,” I moaned. “I want that cock, baby. I want it all over me, rubbing against my lips and hitting my face.” “Damn, girl.” He grunted. “I want your balls all over me. Make me dirty, baby. Make me nasty.

Cover me with you. Make my face nasty and shiny. Come all over it. Right in my mouth and on my nose. Make it drip all on in my eyes.” “Goddamn you’re amazing!” The sound of skin sliding against skin rose over the phone. “You’re so big. I bet your dick is big.” “Oh I can’t wait to show you, Brown Sugar.” An orgasm sparked in my core and spread throughout me. I no longer had any use for sentences. Just noises and hot, wet groans. “Oh. Oh. Oh.” “Yes, Kassie. Yes, my little Brown Sugar. Come all over those fingers, baby. Make that bed fucking wet. I’m

going to come over there and steal those sheets just so I can smell how good that pussy is.” “Oh. Oh.” “Baby, I’m about to come.” The words tore from my throat. “Me, too.” Then our words collided. The both of us riding each other’s nasty groans. We both panted and moaned together. So hot that I wished I could’ve recorded it all. I closed my eyes and drank in the music. “Oh, baby.” “God, yes.” “This feels so good.” “I’m going to make you feel better.”

“All night long?” “I won’t ever stop.” “Please don’t.” “Not unless you asked me too.” “Oh. Oh. Oh.” Quiet ensued after that. Then our breathing could be heard. Finally, after another moment, he decided to speak, “I’ve never, ever met anyone like you before.” “Good. Me either.” “I think we were made for each other.” I didn’t know what to say. It scared me to talk about it. I didn’t have to – he changed the topic, and we talked more, although we’d already been on the phone for two hours.

He made me laugh more than I wanted him to know. I tried to hide it, but the giggles spilled out and I found myself lounging on the bed and relishing in his voice. He told me his story about how he’d become him. He was a mountain of a man with a soft heart. He had been damaged by his meth addict father, and his drugged out ex-wife. There was a moment when we both grew silent and tense while he described his most difficult fire—two kids trapped in a shed that had burned to the ground. His company had arrived too late. Flames painted death all over the blackened wood. It crackled and snapped all over the yard. He weaved

through the roar of the fire, got to the shed, and axed through it only to find— two crisp bodies. Stiff husks. Melted fabric over seared flesh. Small hands holding each other. Their mouths burned over in fear. He told me about the smell. The stink of death that climbed into his nostrils and followed him as he carried the two dead kids away from the shed. He hoped that at least their parents would have something to bury. He talked about it all—the tears in his eyes and the ones he saw in his group. The silence that filled his ears. The visions in his mind of his own twins possibly dying one day and the promise that he’d do his best to appreciate every

moment with them. He confessed that moment and others, and by the end of his stories, my eyes watered and I knew that he’d cracked away at the wall I’d been trying to build between us. By three in the morning, we decided, finally, to say goodnight. It took twenty more minutes for us to get off the phone. And, by the time we hung up, my sheets smoothed wet against my butt, and my fingers went for round two. I had to have him.

Chapter 18 Lorenzo Forget

about Cicely and focus on Kassie. I only have time to deal with my own demons. Early that Friday, my whole body buzzed in anticipation. Finally, I would have Kassie to myself for several hours and with no distraction. I’d wrapped my head around all the places I could take her. She wasn’t a Netflix and Chill type of girl—the sort of girl I invited to the house under the lure of a home cooked meal, when really I just needed her on the couch with a movie on, and my tongue would be between her thighs before the film’s climax.

No. Kassie is different. I had to take the time to figure out, if we could work. Cicely had taught me the biggest lesson of my life that night in front of her hotel room. I couldn’t spend time around women like that. I couldn’t surround myself with people whose only goal in life was to destroy themselves and drag me down with them. I needed something more for me. I needed something more for my girls. Kassie had loved the beach the last time we were there. I decided have a picnic on a private patch of land that my buddy owned on Anna Marie Island. He was a snowbird—only lived in Sarasota during the winter months. The rest of the year, he worked in New York. I checked

on his place weekly, grabbed his mail, and did lawn care. For my time and energy, he gave me permission to spend time at the place, while he was away. I’d never taken anyone out to his place besides the twins. We barbecued there on July 4th, just us three. Tonight, I would take Kassie. We would have a perfect view of the sunset and a white sandy beach all to our self. All Friday morning, I’d been running around Sarasota, buying special cheeses and sausages, picking out flowers, and shopping for any last minute things I could think of. Never had I spent this much time preparing for a date. I didn’t have to with other women, or maybe I just didn’t care.

Everything had to be perfect. Now I was at my last stop. My mom’s house. I rummaged through the attic for about twenty minutes, before she realized I was up there. Mom’s voice filled the air. “Why are you in my attic, boy?” “I’m looking for that picnic basket you borrowed from me and never gave back.” Her footsteps came next as she pulled her little self-up the ladder. “That is my picnic basket. You said I could have it.” “After you decided not to return it. I wanted to borrow it for tonight. I’m dating somebody and she would probably really dig the carvings on the

side.” Mom waved away the dust in front of her face and coughed a little. She was such a little woman next to her kids. Barely five feet tall, she had pale skin that was delicate in the sun. Freckles dotted her cheeks and bushels of red hair fell past her shoulders. When I was a kid, people were always trying to figure out how were related and shocked to learn she was my mother. “A new woman?” She coughed some more. “What club does she dance at this time?” “Why does she have to dance at a club?” “Because every time you introduce me to one, she’s danced in some club

without her clothes.” “I haven’t brought any women around you in a long time.” “I know. I’ve been enjoying that.” She pointed to the large shelf to the right of me. “The picnic basket is over there. And why do you need a basket?” “Because it’s a picnic, Mom. I thought that would be obvious.” “And so you’re going to the big trouble of getting a basket?” “It’s a picnic.” “You need to focus on those girls of yours. They’re growing up fast and they’re starting to have tons of questions and no woman to ask them.” “They can ask me.” “Not these questions.”

“They don’t feel comfortable asking you or their aunts?” I asked. “No. They need their mom.” I blew out a long breath. “There mom is still trying to get it together.” “Why do I always think there is more to the story, when you discuss Cicely?” “I have no idea.” The last thing Mom needed to know about was the current horrific state my ex-wife was in. Mom knew Cicely had battled drugs, but had figured that she was getting better. Like everyone else, she stomached the whole Peace Corp excuse, never understanding why Cicely still had not seen her kids in all these years. “Is Cicely really coming this

summer to get the girls?” “Yes. If she can afford it and get time off.” “Humph.” “What?” “Nothing.” “A new woman?” And then Mom muttered under her breath, “You should be looking for a stripper pole not a basket.” “Really? I don’t date strippers anymore. That’s a bad rumor and can I say that there are lovely women. I just haven’t met the good ones.” “Humph. So what does this one do?” I headed over to the shelf that she’d pointed at. “She’s a writer.”

“Oh really?” Her green eyes brightened. “What does she write?” “Romance.” Her expression perked up more. Curiosity lit her gaze. “Romance. What’s her name?” I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Are you still reading trashy novels?” “No way, boy. You see them bibles in the living room? That’s all I read these days. It’s nothing but me and the Lord.” What Kassie writes would make a Bible explode. I went rock hard over The Wench’s Tail, and I haven’t even made it to the second chapter yet. Jesus, the woman can write. I moved two huge boxes labeled

Christmas decorations and set them on the floor. Now with the boxes gone, I had the room needed to grab the basket from the top shelf. “If all you do is read your Bible, then you definitely won’t know her.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s her name?” “Kassandra Jones.” “Oh Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! Did you say Kassandra Jones? The Wench’s Tail?” I rose from the box and gave her a curious look. “Really, Mom?” She straightened her face, but there was no denying that she jumped around inside of herself. Anytime Mom got excited she tapped her foot over and

over, and in that moment, her toe was a tapping. “Kassandra Jones?” I got the basket and put everything back where I found it. “My sweet little catholic mother reads erotica?” “No. But she does. . .sound familiar. I think one of your sisters tried to make me read that book one time. I never touched it. But did you say Kassandra Jones?” “Yes.” “Kassandra Jones?” “Yes.” Shaking my head, I picked everything up and passed her. “Lying is a sin, Mom.” “You’re going on a date with Kassandra Jones?” “Yes.” I climbed out of the attic.

She followed behind me. “Maybe you should bring her by the house, first.” “Why?” “Because your sisters probably have some questions.” “What would they have questions about?” “Well, first of all, she hasn’t written anything in a year and a half. It’s been a two year wait on the sequel to Hot Seduction. I have no idea. . .I mean. . .your sister Tina has no idea if Rodrick even made it out of the explosion or not. And what about his marriage with Aubrey?” “Only read the bible my behind.” I arrived in the living room. “I’m actually embarrassed for you.”

“Why?” I smirked at her. “All you do is read the Bible, huh?” “You’re not perfect, either.” “Hey, I wasn’t the one who told a lie.” “I might’ve checked out some of her stories. She writes fabulous stories about women and they talk about more than sex. She writes about women like me.” My face twisted with disgust. “Who are having tons of sex, by the way?” “Well, I do have five kids. Clearly, I’m not a virgin.” “Oh God. Let’s not, Mom.” I headed toward the front door.

“I wasn’t going to say anything about my sex life.” “I’d rather you not say the words sex life at all.” “Well, we all have one,” she yelled back at me. “Mine is probably hotter than yours.” “La! La! La! La!” I tightened my grip around the basket and rushed out of there. “I can’t hear you! I can’t hear you!” “Lorenzo Samuel Hornsby.” I paused and turned around. “Yes, ma’am.” She stood in the open door way, commanding all of my attention. “Is there something you’re not telling me about Cicely? All these years and she hasn’t

visited them once.” “I have this handled.” Mom didn’t reprimand me or seem to have anything more to say. “I’ll pray for her then.” “Let’s hope that helps.” Deep inside I’d lost all faith with her situation. In fact, I’d been ignoring the topic as much as possible, pouring all of my energy into Kassie and touching that lovely body again. “Hope and Faith are asking about her. You should at least figure out a way for them to see her. Maybe take them to her.” “Maybe?” A weary sadness fell on her eyes. “I don’t know, Son. I’m not sure what

anyone could do in a situation like this. I just know that they haven’t seen their mother since they were tiny little girls. Girls need their mothers, even if they’re not worth two pennies. They need to see what they came from. If not, they could end up feeling lost and afraid.” Suddenly, all of my hopeful energy dissipated into stress. Cicely was in no shape to meet the twins. I had no idea what to do about it all. Rubbing my eyes, I waved at Mom. “I’ll see you later.” “Do you understand what I’m saying?” “Yes. Let me think about it.” “Do more than that. Life is short.” Life is short. Especially for

Cicely. Mom cleared her throat. “And could you ask Mrs. Jones when she’s going to release the sequel?” “Oh, god. Good day, Mom. Have fun reading your bible, tonight.”

Chapter 19 Kassie Stop worrying? Conquer the fear. I stood in front of my closet, attempting to figure out what to wear. Yet, terror gripped every cell. Calm down. You’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen? Either he is going to break my heart into pieces or he’s going to be the best man I’ve ever had. I sighed and searched through my dresses. Even if he ends up being a jerk off, he’s going to provide amazing material for my romances. Another hour passed. Rich chilled

on my bed, playing a game on my phone and telling me fart jokes. I rummaged through the piles of dresses and shoes I’d laid out on the floor. By then, I’d shampooed and conditioned my dreadlocks. They now lay in curlers all over my hair. I planned to get under my hair dryer and read a new bestseller I’d bought. “So you’re going on a date?” Rich continued to play his game, but I knew something was biting at him. He’d been tapping his feet the whole time laying on the bed. “It’s a date, but a first one. We’re still getting to know each other. Lorenzo and I are going to be friends and hang out for a few hours this evening.” I

turned to him. “It takes time for mommy to get to know the person before she dates them.” I’m so full of shit. I’m totally going to ride down the fire men’s pole tonight. I am a whore in the most beautiful sense. It’s pretty much his game to lose. As long as he doesn’t say or do anything too stupid, he’s getting lucky. “How long?” Rich asked. “What?” “How long does it take for you to get to know someone?” “Well,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Mommy hasn’t really talked to anybody since I’ve separated from your daddy. It’s been a year. So I guess it takes a

while.” Rich frowned. “But Daddy has a lot of girlfriends.” A harem, if we’re being truthful. And he’s had those twats since we were married. I forced a smile. “Daddy and I do things differently.” He’s a man-whore and mommy is pretty much the virgin Mary when she stands next to him. This is why we moved to Sarasota, so you wouldn’t see all of his womanizing ways and choose that life. “Do you like Lorenzo?” Rich paused from the game and stared at me. “So far, I think he is a pretty cool guy, but like I said, I take my time to get

to know people, as you always should.” Mommy just doesn’t take her time to open her legs and let the cool guy eat her out. Damn he’s a master with his tongue. “Are you going to marry him?” “Really? I just said it takes a minute, dude.” I grabbed the pillow and hit him with it. Richard laughed. “Are you going to have babies with him?” “That’s it!” I hit him some more as he doubled over in laughter. “You’re done, buddy. Now, you’ve crossed the line.” I slung the pillow at him and moved away. “Mommy,” Rich called after me.

“Yes.” “I really like Lorenzo. He’s awesome.” “Cool.” “Like a superhero!” “Uh, okay.” “He’s probably the coolest person that I know.” “Eh! Mommy is cool, too.” “Kind of. But Lorenzo is like the definition of cool.” “Oh just start a freaking fan club!” I walked down the hall. Sure, he stops fires, but I can write a paragraph that would make him come before he got to the last period. Yes! That’s right. I’m a bad bitch, too. What am I afraid of? Conquer that

fear! Rich interrupted my thoughts. “Mom, could you get me some cake, too?” “Naw, have your superhero fire guy do it.” His laughter spilled out of the room. Damn this is a good day. I sang in the kitchen. “I made some tea, I’m gonna put some suga in it.” “Oh baby, I made some tea.” I bopped my hips and raised my voice loud and proud. “Oh yeah! I’m gonna put some suga in it.” My son scared the shit out of me. “Mom?” The bag of sugar fell from my

hands and spilled all over the floor. “What the hell, Rich?” “What are you singing?” he giggled. “A song I made up.” “It does sound like you made it up.” He handed me my phone. “It’s Auntie Samantha. I’ll sweep up the sugar, Mommy.” “You rock, Rich.” I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear. “Shello.” “Shello?” she asked. “It’s a shiny hello.” “Alrighty.” I stirred my cup of tea. “And how was your day-ee-ya?” “Interesting.” Sam giggled. “Someone got laid.”

I sang back, “None of your business.” “It was the fireman. Oh my god! You had sex with a fire hottie. Tell me. Does your body still burn? Are you on fire as we speak? Did he douse you with his big hose! Did you ride him in the fire truck? Did he blow your siren and ring your bell—” “Oh, God. This is why I didn’t call you about it yesterday and No. We didn’t go all the way.” “All the way?” Disgust sounded on her voice. “What is this a Grease musical. Did you hook up or not?” “Tiny ears are around me, and no. I did not, but I still had a nice finish.” “Nice finish? What does that

mean?” I grabbed Rich’s slice of cake. “It means the nice man gave, instead of received.” “And what did he give?” Sam asked. I watched Rich dump the dust pan’s contents into the trash can and head away. “He gave wet things.” “So wet things like. . .oh hell did he go oral?” “Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Oh, you very bad girl.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Was it good?” “The best I’ve ever had.” “Damn.” I cleared my throat. “Now

goodbye. I’m doing my hair, hurrying to shower, and hoping to get a little bit of writing in before our date.” “What?! Date? You have a date? Wait a minute!! Did you say writing? What are you writing?” “A novel about a witch and a demon.” “Is it romance or erotica?” “We’ll see after tonight.” I hung up the phone before she could ask any more questions. Not able to leave it alone, she texted me. Sam: Maybe you should consider writing a fire fighter romance too. Me: Maybe, I should. Sam: Maybe, you should see that

fire fighter again and do some research. Me: Maybe, I should. Sam: My bank account just had an orgasm. Me: By the way, get rid of Mama Ganga, please. I’m healed and besides, she gave me a date rape drug. Sam: What the hell? She tried to call me several times after that text, but I didn’t have the time. Laughing, I shook my head and headed back to the office with a cup of hot raspberry tea and a huge slice of chocolate cake for my little one. It was time to return to Luna and her demon. “And our hearts are the victory.”

High off the demon’s seduction, Luna opened her eyes and then her legs. “Come to me.” The demon soured down on her. His silver horns sparkled in the moon’s glow. Huge, yet soft as silk, his black skin smoothed against her hungry body. “So sweet.” He grasped her breasts and pinched Luna’s nipples, over and over, flickering the points with his thumb. “I’ve dreamed of this moment more than you’ve laid in your bed wet for me.” But poor Luna had no honeyed reply. All she could whisper was, “Don’t stop touching me.”

It was something about the rough feel of his skin against her. With blazing red eyes, he moaned against her mouth and consumed her essence. It was something about the way he gently squeezed those nipples and looked at Luna with such hunger, licking his lips and biting down on that bottom lip’s fullness. He toyed with her nipples. Played longer than he should. Until she came close to exploding all over his fingers that had now begun thrusting and slipping between her folds. “Heaven, help me!” “It’s too late for that, my little

witch.” And she knew it to be true. The demon had her just the way he yearned. There would be no letting go. No release from his passion. No other man would be able to compare to him. Too much power radiated from his flesh. Too much hunger. Her nipples tingled and energy poured erotic waves into her body. Nature became unbalanced while they made love within the deadened fire circle. Magic surged around them. Lightning struck and thunder crackled off in the distance. Ocean waves crashed against cliffs. Nothing would ever be the same.

“After tonight, there will be no escape from me.” He paused and stared into her eyes. “Do you understand?” “Do I have a choice? Can I walk away right now?” His body vibrated over her. “No, my little witch. You can’t. I want you too much.” “Every night, I will come for you, and I will drain you.” He cupped Luna’s breasts in his hands like he was weighing their quality and loving every second of it. “You’ll know no other being, but me. You’re mine to do with, in any way.” And then he returned back to

her nipples and her pussy grew slick and tight, readying itself for him. “You’re mine to lick and mine to rub my hard cock all over.” He nibbled a hot trail up her neck and she shook, craving him even more. “No one else can have you.” A moan ripped from her throat. “Oh, little witch. I’m going to make you say so many things.” “Don’t stop,” Luna whispered. “I don’t think I could with you.” “Show me.” “Hmmmm.” He lowered his mouth to one nipple and lapped a lusty circle around it. And then he spread her open with his hands, diving his

fingers into her pussy and driving her wild. They slid all the way into her. Deeper and far beyond any normal human could. They penetrated her soul. Bright light danced across her eyes. His whole past played out in front of her. He’d been a witch, like her, long ago in ancient times. He had dark black skin, a beautiful face, and a gorgeous muscled body. Naked and crying, he sat in the middle of his own circle among flames, screaming to the sky for something. But no one came, except the devil. His leather red form prowled along Luna’s gaze as she watched the

film of her demon’s life. Fear crept into her heart as the Devil took steps toward him. He stood on large, black hooves. Smoke pushed out of his massive nostrils. And then the Devil did something unexpected, he raised his hands above them both. The air sparkled in front of them. An image appeared within the darkness. Shaking, Luna squinted further into this magical view. There, in the Devil’s hands, stood an image of Luna. “No!” she screamed and tried to get away from the vision, but the demon’s fingers remained inside of her, and with each flick of his fingers against her clit, the view became

clearer and clearer. The Devil’s words roared loud in Luna’s head. “Give your soul to me for one hundred years and I will make you into something so powerful that you will find the one that will truly complete you. I will give you your soul mate.” In Luna’s head, her demon fell on his knees in front of the Devil. That hooved beast pushed sharp claws out of his fingertips and dug them into her poor demon’s sides. “No!” Tears fell from her eyes as she watched him undergo much pain —his flesh ripping apart and then resewing into new skin, his skull

breaking away and reforming with sprouting horns, his soul leaving his body and nothing remaining. “No!” Luna cried again. Her demon’s smooth voice danced in her head while he spoke to the devil. “What is her name, Master?” And the Devil said, “Luna.” The image disappeared. Her demon continued his work, playing her pussy like a piano. His fingers were talented. So slick and wet. She rode the vibrations and reveled in them. Her body grew more sensitive than ever. Anything could’ve rubbed against her skin causing her to come,

hard. “Now do you understand, my little witch?” he whispered. “Now do you see why I’ll never let you go?” “Yes.” Wetness dripped down from her thighs. Lapping at her nipples some more, he grabbed her ass, lifted her body into the air, and pumped hard into her. “You’re mine, Luna. All mine.” He pounded. “Mine! Mine!” “Oh!” “I’ve given my soul just to taste your flesh. Just to hold you. I threw it all away.” “I know.” “We belong together.”

“Yes.” “We are the victory.” “Yes.” And they made love well into dawn, before disappearing off into darkness to make love several more times. No one saw Luna again. Relatives from far and near arrived to investigate. They conjured locator spells, but none guided them to anything but a small patch of beach, where there were remnants of something odd having occurred nights ago. A large black circle etched in the sand. Tourists and scientists had come

from all over to marvel at the strange incident. No matter what was done to the area, the circle remained. No water could wipe the black away. No sand could cover over the area without it blackening to complete the circle again. The circle stayed and served as the only way Luna’s loved ones could memorialize her life.

Chapter 20 Lorenzo The

sun layered the sky in dark violet lines that tipped with gold. It was a perfect view for a perfect date. We lay on the beach among powder white sand. The ocean rippled in the warm breeze. Lit candles surround us in a huge circle. The fire circle had Kassie doubling over with laughter for about ten minutes. It had taken her forever to gain control and finally tell me about her story. Then, it all made sense and I was grateful that I hadn’t made a fool out of myself. We feasted. I’d made the entire meal an hour before—a platter of

various imported cheeses and meats, exotic fruit salad, chocolates and tiny cakes, a mug of hot tea and even a lovely bottle of wine. “I’m glad the demon got some.” “He deserved it.” Kassie took in the flowers all around her. I hadn’t been sure if she was a rose girl or preferred something different, so I got as many bouquets as I could—daisies and sunflowers, lilies and violets. “You’re amazing.” “Am I?” “Yes, and you’re perfect.” “Wow. I’ve gotten you drunk.” I took out the wine and filled her glass up some more. “Feel free to continue sipping and stroking my ego.”

She had on this damn dress that wouldn’t let me remain gentlemanly. It was a beautiful sundress—pale blue like the sky and fanning out into white toward the legs. The soft material danced around her hips as she walked. In the front, the fabric clung at her breasts, but barely. I swore they were close to coming out of that dress a few times. God, I hope she has some extra clothes in her car. That dress isn’t going to make it under my fingers. Kassie widened her eyes at me. “Lorenzo?” I shook away the vision of me tearing the dress apart. “Yes.” “What were you thinking about?” “You’ll find out later, Brown

Sugar. Are you enjoying yourself? There’s a comment box at the end of the date. Please help me by filling the small card out and then inserting it into the box.” “You’ll get no complaints from me.” She blushed. “In fact, you’re so perfect. The beach has played a prominent part in my life and writing these past few days, so it only makes sense that you would bring us here tonight, and do it like this.” She gestured to the circle. “Score one for Lorenzo?” “Score fifty, if you’re counting.” I licked my lips. “I am.” My cock perked up in my pants, but I promised myself to take it slowly

for the first hour, at least. I wanted her. There was no denying that. She wouldn’t walk off this beach tonight without me at least licking between her thighs. But there was no need to attach myself to her body so quickly. “So,” I cleared my throat, “You were saying that you are going to start writing a fire fighter romance?” “Yes.” She set her glass of wine down, looked in her pocket book, and took out a tiny notebook. “I’m sorry. We really don’t have to do this the whole date, it’s just that I’m kind of hyped about finishing my witch/demon romance, and now I want to dig into the fire fighter.” I quirked my eyebrows. “Dig into

the fire fighter?” She blushed. “I meant. . .dig into writing the romance.” “Of course.” Her voice came out in a seductive tone that made my cock come alive. “You’re being naughty.” “You’re making me.” “Anyway.” She took out her pen and opened the notebook. “So, is it hard to be a lieutenant?” “Yes.” I licked my lips. “Very, very, very hard, Kassie.” She looked up from her notebook. “Can you elaborate?” “Your lips are so sexy. I want to suck right here.” I poked the bottom one. “Are you avoiding the question,

Mr. Hornsby?” “No, I’m only trying to—” “Stop.” She held up her hand. “What?” he grinned. “You were going to say fuck me.” “No. I was going to say kiss you, but now I’m going to say fuck you and yes that sounds like a good idea. Thanks for offering. I accept.” “I didn’t offer.” She twirled her pen. “How does someone become a lieutenant?” I smirked. “It’s easy. The test is simple. The Captain gathers everyone into the room.” She quirked her eyebrows. “Okay.” “And he puts a ruler on the table

and tells us to take our dicks out.” She frowned. “Awesome.” “And this is the story of how I became the lieutenant.” “I see,” she said. “So they give the top rank to the guy with the smallest penis since he was born inferior to all others?” “Funny.” “Am I wrong?” she teased. I bit my bottom lip. “You want to find out?” “Why are you so horny tonight?” “I’m going to kiss you.” I leaned toward her and placed my mouth an inch from hers. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away.

Close to her, I licked my lips, but kept an inch between us. “Are you’re scared?” Her breath brushed against mine. “Yes.” “But do you still want me to kiss you?” “Hells yes.” I pressed my lips against hers and pulled her into me. I felt like I had kissed her for hours. Our mouths swollen, but still hungry. Smacking sounds mingled with the ocean’s waves. I lay her down on the blanket and ran my fingers through her dreadlocks. I had to calm myself down. Take a minute to breathe. Her auburn locs spread around her face like a halo. On her back,

she appeared even more angelic. Her nipples had hardened underneath the fabric. They pushed up to greet my eyes. “I really like helping you with book research.” I traced my fingers along the points. “Maybe we could act out some of the sex scenes.” “I’m not sure if the characters are going to have sex.” “A firefighter is in the story. They’re going to have sex.” “Because fire fighters get sex all of the time?” she asked. “Anytime we want it.” “Doesn’t matter what you look like?” “Never.” “Is it really just the uniform?”

“No, it’s the heart.” I took her hand and put it on my chest. “Our hearts beat louder than others. It has to. The beating drowns out the sane part of our brain that’s telling us to run away from fire.” “But you run in anyway?” “Because of our hearts.” She blinked and pulled her hand away. “So how did you. . .” “Become a lieutenant?” “Yes, eventually I would like you to answer that.” I blew out a long breath. “Competition is hard. You get selected with others. Your record has to be spotless.” “And yours was?” I leaned down and kissed her

again. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a good guy.” “With a bad cock?” I said through clenched teeth as my cock ached. “Very fucking bad, Mrs. Jones. I would like to show you one day.” She licked her lips. “Hmmm.” “I wasn’t even considered until after seven years of experience.” I pulled her back to me and molded into her body. I wanted to tear her fucking clothes off. Finally, we had a moment alone without kids and crew and anyone else. I nipped her lips and she hummed a little. “What was that?” I nipped at that bottom lip again.

“Me enjoying your answer.” “That’s it?” She slipped her hands along my arms. “Yes. That’s it.” Our eyes meet, and the reality hit me. Something more moved between us. Her hard nipples pressed against my chest. The blaze from the candles’ fires glowed over her smooth body. I just couldn’t hold back anymore, right as she was about to ask me another question, I buried my face into her soft breasts and pulled the straps down from her shoulders to get more flesh. I couldn’t even keep the darkness out of my voice. I was on edge. “I can’t take this anymore.” And all she did was moan back so

hard, pre-cum spilled out of my cock. Fuck. That dress was a memory. At first, I moved it away with gentle fingers, but then Kassie moaned again, and I couldn’t control myself. Fabric ripped and unraveled. Grunting, I dove into the curve of her neck and sucked hard, branding her as mine. “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful, baby.” Like a kid with a new train set on Christmas Day, I was all over her—my hands toying with each part of her body. Every curve had to be inspected. Each nipple sucked and licked. I used one hand to explore her breasts, while the other cupped her lovely bottom.

My cock hoped to stuff her immediately, but my brain knew it took time. Moments to have her creamy and wet. Minutes of soft kisses and tender exploration between panted breaths of ecstasy. I pulled my cock out in front of her and loved the way she whispered, “Damn. They really did make you lieutenant because of the size.” As any self-appointed pervert would, I stroked it in front of her face. “You like it?” “Yes.” And then she did something I hadn’t expected. With a torn dress, she climbed onto her hands and knees, crawled over and kissed the tip. “I want this right now.”

She landed more kisses on the mushroomed tip. It took everything in me not to hold her mouth open and slam my cock into the moistness. Patience, my friend. Patience. She parted her lips and sucked all of me in. Every damn inch, she choked a little, but wouldn’t let go as she moved her head back and forth on my length. Her ass jiggling with the rhythm. Spit bubbles stacking all around her lips and my cock. She worked it. Deep throat with no release. Like a pro. Like I was paying her for it. I’m going to marry her. Grunting, I brought my hand around to her bottom and grabbed it the way I’d been dreaming of. Spit spilled out of the

corners of her mouth, and still she worked me. “Damn, I’m so proud of you, baby.” Tears almost left my eyes. She giggled and chocked a little before returning to the heavenly suctioning. On all fours, she owned me. Dominated my cock with only her little, wet, and warm mouth. “Oh God, I’ll never let you get on the market.” I licked my lips and ran my fingers through her soft locs. “I’m going to keep you all to myself.” She moaned and wiggled that ass. The thin fabric rippling over her lush bottom. I blew out a long breath, trying to control myself. I was seconds away from spilling all in her mouth. And every

part of me wanted to. I had to admit it. I yearned to paint that lovely face. Not this time. Not our first time. Fisting my hands to my sides, I leaned my body back to pull my cock out of her mouth. Inch by inch, it left her lips. Drool dripped down her chin. I looked down and whimpered, “I really am pussy whipped. Rockstar tried to tell me.” “Fuck thinking about Rockstar.” She pulled the dress away from her. “Take care of me, baby.” I knew she was a lioness. I just thought it would take her time to see it in herself. She has to be mine. She didn’t even wait for me to take off her panties and bra. They were gone

and my head dizzied with her boldness. Yes. I’m going to marry her. “Lorenzo.” She laid down on the blanket with her sweet, seductive face, and opened her thick legs. “Come here.” And that was the spark that ignited the flame that burned down the whole damn town. I leaned forward a little and pressed the tip of my cock to her opening. It was close to vibrating against her. I had to give myself a few seconds, before I finished too quickly. That would be great. One stroke and I come all over her. She’ll think I’m the worst lover ever. I thrust into her, but only two inches. Her pussy stretched her around my cock, triggering a moan from both of

us. “You’re not wet.” I pulled out of her. “You’re fucking creamy.” “More,” she moaned. Fuck. I can’t hold back. I squeezed the tip of my cock, hoping I wouldn’t burst all over her. “Oh, Lorenzo, give it to me.” She wiggled her breasts and squeezed her chocolate nipples. Lust blazed in her gaze. Shut your eyes man! Think of something else! Tampa Bay’s let down on Sunday. Mom reading erotica! Anything! Do not come all over her like a teenage boy! “Give me that dick, baby,” she begged.

Heat burned at the tip. One thrust and sperm would be everywhere. It couldn’t be helped. I was too worked up. Too excited. Too in need of her. “Damn.” I let go of my cock and jumped up from the blanket. “I need a minute, Kassie.” She practically screamed at me, “What?” “Just give me two minutes.” I stuffed myself into my pants and walked toward the dark shore. She called after me, “Was it something I said?” I couldn’t even look at Kassie as her footsteps sounded behind me. Great. Of course she thinks she did something wrong since I’m acting

like a lunatic. Still, I put my back to her and focused on the moon, hoping to calm myself. “You’ve done nothing. It’s me and my dick that are the problem tonight. I was close to coming as soon as you took off that dress.” “What?” she giggled. “You’re that horny?” “No, Kassie. You’re that hot.” “I love it.” I faced her. “You love what?” “I love, when you can’t control yourself. It makes me crazy.” There, she stood, nude and before me. Just the beach and the moon to witness all the things I could do to her. Fuck it. Let the cards. . .or shall I

say, the sperm fall where it may. I charged for her. She shrieked, but it didn’t stop me. I had her in my arms before she could whisper what I was doing. Lifting her up and wrapping her legs around my waist, I consumed her mouth before she could catch her breath. If I was going to go down like a fast coming pre-pubescent boy that had no control of his orgasm, I would go down with a fight. I’d drag her down with me, screaming as loud as I would. And so I did. I thrust into her creamy center without a whisper of all the things that ran through my mind. And things surely did. I had a mantra going in my head. Fuck. This pussy is so good. So

good, this pussy. Fuck. Yes. So good. Mine. Kassie bounced up and down, arching her back and letting her dreadlocks swing with the rhythm of my thrust and the tempo of our moans as we groaned deeply and hard in unison. I pumped like a mad man ready to erupt. Ready to explode. Ready to detonate and bust all inside of the lush, wet tunnel that sucked me in. “Oh, Lorenzo.” She dug her nails into my shoulders. “Don’t stop. I’m so close.” Thank God for small miracles. Yes. Come! I ground into her, making sure I rubbed against her clit with each stroke.

Making sure I squeezed her ass and lapped at her nipples with each thrust. Making sure that I whispered in her ear how good she felt on my cock with each pump. We exploded together. Shattered into nothing. It wasn’t pretty or delicate. Loud grunts and moans ensued. We humped each other like two wild fucking beasts in a jungle. Gyrating our centers. Rotating our hips. Bucking and bouncing. Whimpering and wailing. “Oh, baby!” she screamed. My legs grew weak, but I held her to me just to get one more thrust. And that one movement, ripped everything out of me. Jesus.

Stumbling back, we fell to the ground. Cool sand pressed against our hot bodies. I rolled her over to me so that she wouldn’t have to lay, naked on the sand. Our laughter rose to the night sky. I held her in my arms. “I don’t think there’s any going back, after this.” “No?” she whispered. “No, Kassie. I’m definitely falling for you.” Sighing, she whispered back, “Me too.”

Chapter 21 Kassie We

made love most of the night, until finally we decided to head back to my house. Lorenzo wanted to make sure I got enough sleep. Mom would be dropping Rich back off to my place tomorrow after church. We decided we would go to my place and sleep in. His phone beeped as we climbed into his car. He checked it and twisted his face in confusion. “That’s weird. It’s not like Rockstar to call me.” “You think it’s an emergency?” “Probably not. My mom didn’t call and she has the girls, so whatever he has to say can wait until I get to your place.”

“Okay.” Lorenzo drove us away from our lovely beach. The whole time a silly smile sat on his face. “How do you feel?” he asked. “Good.” “Are you sure?” “Baby, you didn’t take my virginity. I’m more than fine.” “I feel like you took my virginity.” “Good.” “I’m pussy whipped.” “Good.” “I need to whip you.” My body buzzed with energy. My head swirled around the images of him —wild and devouring me. “Mission accomplished.”

“Yes?” Warmth filled my chest. “Yes.” Stopping at a red light, he turned my way and studied me. “I’m sorry about your dress. It really couldn’t be helped.” “You tore away at my dress and roared like a lion.” “It couldn’t be helped.” “You kept screaming, ‘Fuck this dress! Fuck this dress!’ over and over.” “Yeah. It really couldn’t be helped.” “Sure.” “I do plan on buying you something new. Maybe that could be our second date, we go shopping for dresses that I can tear away. I’m not big on buying

clothes or fashion, but that’s one shopping trip I would sign up for.” I laughed. “That sounds like a plan.” “You’re so beautiful, Kassie.” “Stop it.” I was a mess. Sand clung to my dreadlocks and skin. I wore Lorenzo’s huge polo shirt that fit me like a minidress. Around my waist, I’d tied the ripped sundress to cover everything, since we couldn’t find my bra or panties anywhere in the sand. I was a mess. I lost my shoes. He drove shirtless with stained and dirtied pants. We sat in the car barefoot and coated in sand. Yet, silly smiles spread across our face like

we were the richest people in the world and dressed in high-end glamour. I was nervous, but I asked anyway. “So when will we see each other again?” “Whenever you want. You haven’t gotten rid of me yet. I’m spending the night. We’re having a slumber party.” “Oh, really?” “Yes! I know all about little girl slumber parties.” I scrunched my face in confusion. “Uh. . .what?” “Sorry. I have twin girls, so I’ve had a lot of slumber parties at my house. In fact, just ignore that comment.” “No, let’s explore this.” I giggled. “What do you do at these slumber

parties?” “Nope. We’re done with this topic.” I hit his arm as he pulled off for the green light. “We’re not done. What do you do?” “I’m usually the test dummy for almost everything, which almost always involves make-up and frilly things.” I covered my mouth so the laughter wouldn’t spill out. “I’ve learned a lot of things. For one, peach foundation just doesn’t go well with my skin. And my eyes require an earthy eye shadow. The metallic stuff makes me look too cheap.” “And you’re not cheap.” The laughter burst from me.

“Ha ha. That’s okay. Laugh it up. I actually look pretty hot in a wig and make up.” “Oh, God, a wig? Stop it.” “I’ve worn gowns and heels. I’m not sure, yet. . .if I’m traumatizing the girls or if they’re traumatizing me, but the heels and gown will never happen again.” “You sound like an amazing dad.” “I don’t know. I tend to be a pushover with them.” “Those are the best dads.” “It’s hard to tell them no, and every day as they get bigger I keep thinking that they’ll be grown soon. Kids are only small for a little while, after that, they’re old forever. More and more, I try to

count the moments and be happy for them. Even when I’m wearing high heels and a gown.” “And now, you’ve dick whipped me.” “Oh yeah?” That freaking arrogance hit his face. He rounded the corner toward my house. “And it only took complete embarrassment for me to whip that pussy into shape?” Before I could answer, I looked at my front yard or better yet my parking lot, and spotted the car sitting behind mine. Ellis. My ex-husband had decided to finally show up this weekend, and not at a regular time. I checked my watch. It

read midnight. What the fuck are you doing here? He sat on the front steps that lead to my porch and gripped a large bottle of gin. Never had I known Ellis to drink anything more than water. He’d kept all of his vices in the realm of sex. But here he was, downing a bottle of gin, like it was Kool-Aid. Before I could say something, Lorenzo spoke, “That’s your exhusband.” “Uh. . .yes.” “Not really a question. I just looked at him and can see a man that’s lost a lot.” Lorenzo pulled into the driveway. “Because he’s drinking a bottle of rum on your door step, he must

have lost you.” “I doubt that’s why he’s gone to drinking,” I said. “I bet that’s the reason,” Lorenzo said. “It’s not that serious.” “Ten years isn’t that serious? It doesn’t mean that he didn’t love you. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t think that he’s made a mistake. It doesn’t mean that he’s not secretly hoping that you were the monster in the relationship and that if he can prove that, then everything will be okay. No one wants to be the reason why a relationship messed up.” Tension built in my shoulders. Lorenzo turned off the lights. Ellis stood up on the front door step and

stalked toward us as we got out of the car. Ellis spat the words out. “Where have you been?” Really? I rolled my eyes. “Rich is with my mother.” “I know. Where have you been?” Ellis gripped the bottle in his hand as if he were going to slam it against Lorenzo’s head. He stalked at my fire fighter, almost sneering as Lorenzo got to my side and put his hands around my waist. I sighed. “If you know your son is with my mom, then why are you here?” “Because, his mother is out being a whore—” Ellis stopped his sentence as

Lorenzo stepped forward with a closed fist. O-kay. “Maybe we should talk over here.” I got in front of Lorenzo, but kept my concentration on Ellis. “Lorenzo can you go inside, please?” “No.” He gestured to the door. His hands remained tight and ready to punch my ex’s face. Rage radiated from that hard body that I’d just been savoring on the beach. Lorenzo was no longer the man that I’d met these past days. He’d become something raw and angry. His gaze fumed with annoyance and targeted Ellis’s face. “How about we all go inside?” I stood there speechless.

Too bad Ellis didn’t keep his mouth closed. My ex turned to me. “Who the fuck is this guy?” “We’re dating,” I blurted out. “And has he met Rich?” Ellis asked. “That’s a long story.” “Say it now,” Ellis said through clenched teeth. Lorenzo cracked his neck. “Maybe, you should say please.” What the hell is going on with the both of them? It’s like they’re both hungry tigers and I’m the only piece of red meat within fifty miles. I sniffed the air and caught the clear odor of alcohol. Ellis gripped an almost empty bottle. I hadn’t realized it

until coming closer. I didn’t think he was capable of drinking more than a glass of wine. Ellis pointed at Lorenzo. “Kassie, you better tell this thug to calm down.” “You’re drunk. Perhaps, we should all calm down.” I headed for the door and both men followed. Anxiety bit at the back of my neck. Unbridled violence thickened in the air, and I’d never been so nervous in my life. It was all too much. Too much testosterone. Too much rage. Too many men on my property flexing their muscles and wanting to take out their big dicks and fight with them. How the hell did the night go so wrong? We got inside of my house, and the

mood didn’t improve. If anything, both men appeared even more pissed to have the other standing in my living room. I set my pocket book on my couch. “How long are you going to be in Sarasota?” Both men stood barely a few feet away from each other, glaring the entire time. “Ellis?” I said. “How long are you going to be in Sarasota?” “I’m not sure. I need to make sure Rich is safe here.” “Excuse me?” Now shit was about to get real. I’d been steady before. More shocked at everyone’s annoyance, instead of ready to boil in my own. I cared for Lorenzo and understood that he

was trying to protect me. And where Ellis was concerned, I only gave him attention if it would affect my son. Other than that, he no longer could mess with my emotions. But there was something about the way Ellis said those last words. “What do you mean, make sure Rich is safe?” I asked. “You’re out all night.” Ellis pointed to my disarray—Lorenzo’s huge shirt flapping around my chest, the sand all over my hair and skin, the torn dress tied around my hips and waist. “You look like you’re on drugs.” “I was out on a date.” Ellis sneered at me. “You were out on something.”

Thank, God Lorenzo said nothing, but the rage on his face kept me nervous. I didn’t know how many sentences Ellis would be able to utter without Lorenzo going to blows. I pointed at Ellis. “You’re drunk. Let’s stop playing the blame game tonight.” Shrugging, he set the bottle on my coffee table. “I drink now. You did that to me. You gave me nightmares.” “I did not.” “I still feel pain from that bullet.” He stumbled back a little and glared at Lorenzo. “Did this bitch tell you how she shot me?” Lorenzo cracked his neck again. “Kassie, can we talk in the back?”

“Eh!” Ellis staggered a little before finally falling back to the couch and sitting down. “Eh! You had your fun, buddy. She smells like dick. Probably your dick. At least somebody’s had fun with her. Why don’t you go home, buddy?” “I’m going to go in your bedroom so I don’t hurt him. I don’t think it would be good, if I did.” Lorenzo clenched and unclenched his fists and then he stormed to the back. “Correct,” I called after him. “Umm. . .I’ll be there in a minute.” I turned back to Ellis and rushed over to the coffee table to grab his bottle of gin. “Since when have you started drinking hard liquor?”

Closing his eyes, he twisted to the side and lay his feet and legs on the couch. “I’ve been drinking since some bitch shot me.” “Poor guy. I really hope you don’t mess up and piss that bitch off again.” I tossed the bottle in the trash can. “In fact, you may want to get some rest on that couch and sober up, before you find a bullet lodged deep within the crevices of your ass.” He opened his eyes. “Is that a threat?” I walked over to him and leaned his way. “Yes. It is a threat. I’ve not gone off on you tonight, because I’m trying to show that big guy in my bedroom that I’m not a complete

lunatic.” “That must be hard.” I sneered at him. “It is, sweetie. But you have one more time to call me a bitch, insult me or even think of insinuating my status as a mother to your son. The son that you have not called in several months unless being told to do so by your sister. The son you didn’t take care of while I was in the mental hospital for a year. The son that is all mine in every way, so much that I will shoot you again, if you try to mess with him or me. And that isn’t a threat, it is your future, should you choose to continue to be a douche bag this evening.” Ellis frowned. Water welled in his

eyes. “I miss you, Kassie.” “Oh, Jesus.” I walked off. “Get some rest. Stop being drunk and get ready to see your son in the morning.” “Kassie, let’s just talk for a minute.” I didn’t have time to even deal with his mess anymore, as I hurried down the hallway to check in on Lorenzo. How had this night turned so crazy? Why couldn’t Ellis just stay the hell out of my life and be the dad he was supposed to be? Why had I procreated with such a slime ball? I rushed to my bedroom to find Lorenzo pacing in front of the door and talking to himself. “Are you okay?” “I want to choke him.” He

continued to pace. “I should’ve hit him. He called you a—” “I’m fine.” “Nevertheless—” “I’m fine.” I stopped him from burning a line into my rug. “Really. I’m fine and I really don’t need you to stand up for me to him. Trust me. Ellis is more afraid of me than any other person on this earth. The only reason he’s acting so boldly is because he’s drunk.” “And did he leave?” I twisted my lips. Unease rose in my chest. “No, he’s on the couch.” Lorenzo raised his eyebrows. “He’s spending the night?” “He’s drunk.” “Let’s call him a cab.”

“To where, Lorenzo?” “To a fucking hotel.” I blew out a long breath. “I’m just going to let him pass out on my couch and sober up. Rich will come in the morning and they’ll see each other. All will return back to normal.” “He should be in a hotel.” “He’s already asleep.” “I don’t like this.” “Lorenzo, I can’t deal with that right now. And trust me, I have no intentions of sleeping with him, if you’re worried about that.” Lorenzo said nothing. I continued, “I’m not going to let Ellis drive drunk. You may not understand this, but he’s the father of my

son. I hate him. I despise him. The fact that he’s in my house makes my stomach turn. But if he went out in his car right now and died from some accident, I wouldn’t be able to look my son in the eyes. That very fact is why he’s here and I’m swallowing my pride.” I placed my hands on my hips. “See. I told you I was crazy.” Instead of a smart remark, Lorenzo’s face relaxed. He came to me and pulled my small body into his huge frame. “I get it. I would probably do the same.” “Thanks for understanding.” “Of course,” he whispered, but something still didn’t feel right. The tension hadn’t disappeared. If anything,

my nerves flared even more “Why don’t you take a shower and relax, Kassie? Would it be weird if I stayed here with you, tonight, like we planned?” “No weirder than my ex, drunk and sleeping on my couch.” “Good.” He released me from his arms. “You want to take a shower with me?” I headed towards my bathroom. “That sounds good. I’m coming. Give me a minute.” He rubbed his face and watched me shut the bathroom door. “Get it hot for me, Kassie.” “I will, baby.” I climbed out of his shirt and prayed that everything would return back to normal.

Chapter 22 Lorenzo I

waited for Kassie to turn on the shower and then I left her room and headed for that asshole of an exhusband. The rage had built up in my chest since meeting him. I couldn’t keep it down. Kassie worked hard, hard enough to not be called a bitch and whore on her own property. She’d been used to the way he talked to her too, not even flinching when he said it. How many times had he called her names? How many times had he spent the night tearing her down? And now he thinks he’s going to

just sleep on the couch like a baby, after all of that? It’s a new world order motherfucker. Ten years of anger sobriety would be wasted tonight. I didn’t know how I would pull it off. Kassie stood in the shower waiting for me to join her, and all I could think about was beating Ellis’s face to a pulp. I’d learned many ways to calm myself—breathing exercises, counting, removing myself from the unpleasant situation, writing it all down, etc. None of that crap mattered when he called her a bitch. It all went out of the window. There was something about a man treating the woman that I loved badly that made me go crazy like the fucking

hulk. It didn’t matter what woman it was —mother, sister, daughter, or now. . .Kassie. I would beat the shit out of someone who harmed them, and tonight Ellis would learn that lesson. Snoring came from the couch. “Time to wake up, Ellis.” I charged for his ass, grabbed his neck, lifted his body like it was nothing, and slammed him up against the wall. Waking up in shock, he pissed himself. “What the. . .” I kept him up against the wall and looked at the dark, wet line forming in his jeans. “Did you really just piss your pants?” His mouth shook in fear. “What are you doing?”

I lowered my voice. “I want you out of here. Kassie, is too sweet of a woman to set boundaries with you, but I will.” He struggled to get out of my hold, but couldn’t. “Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Kassie’s voice soared from out of her bedroom. “Lorenzo, are you coming?!” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure she hadn’t left the shower. “Yes, baby! Give me a minute.” Ellis decided to use that moment to get help. “Kassie, he’s—!” I choked him. Squeezed the breath out of his smug face. I almost didn’t let go. He’d become the problem. He

stressed her out and neglected his son. He brought conflict to their household, and then walked away to go party somewhere else. But even worse, he’d started to get between Kassie and me. I almost broke his neck, but I thought of Kassie and Richard hearing about his death. So I released him, but not before shoving him down to the carpet. “You had her, and you let her go.” “You’re crazy!” He struggled to get up from the ground. “Shut up.” I swung at his face. My fingers met his jaw. A crack sounded and I knew I’d gotten him good. He fell to the carpet and spit blood out into his hand. “Shut up.”

“Y-you’re crazy,” he mumbled as his lips smeared with red liquid. “You had her, and instead of being the man you should’ve been and loving her right, you let her go. You fucked up. You threw it all away, and you’ll never get her back.” “I’m going to press charges.” “You’ll never get her back.” I fisted my hands, put them next to his face, and wanted to pound into him again. “Never. She’s mine now. You got it, buddy?” He scrambled to his feet. I punched him in the jaw. “Ah!” He crashed back into the floor. This was my breaking point. This

was the moment I had to stop. I knew it. Things clinked in my head and I did my best to calm down. “Let me know right now.” My hands shook. “I’m scared for you and me. We have to fix this. I’m fucking scared because if you continue this way, if you continue to fuck with her and ignore your son, I’m going to kill you.” I paced in front of him and he slowly rose. I had his attention. “I’m not a hardcore Christian, but I pray. Right now, I’m praying that you’ll figure it out, because I know my temper. I plan to be in Kassie’s life, forever. This is the woman I’m going to try to marry, which means that you and I will be dealing with each other.”

“You’re crazy.” I paused in front of him and looked into his eyes. “This night could change both of our lives. It could end yours, and put me behind bars.” He opened his mouth, but said nothing. “You and I need to figure out a way to coexist.” I pointed to him. “The only other option is your death.” “I will tell Kassie about this.” I slammed him into the wall. “You sure you want to mess with me?” “Lorenzo!” Kassie’s voice came from right behind me. I let go of the asshole and stepped back. She got to my side, wet and wrapped in a towel. Ellis fell to the floor. “He’s

fucking crazy. I was just sleeping and he beat the shit out of me. You’ve finally met someone perfect for you.” “Shut up,” Kassie said to him and then looked up at me. “His face is bloody. My carpet is bloody.” With both hands, I rubbed my face, hoping to rid myself of some of the guilt. “The discussion may have gotten a bit heated.” “May have?” Ellis groaned in the corner like a baby. “Did you beat him up?” she asked. I could’ve been more mature about it, but adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was too pissed that she’d stopped me before I tossed him out the

door. “I may have bumped into him as I went to get a glass of water.” “Did your fist bump into his face?” “Yes.” I forced a smile. “My fingers are funny that way.” “This isn’t funny.” A hurt look spread across her face. “Why would you do that? What the hell made you think this was okay?” “We needed to talk man-to-man.” She pointed at me. “You’re not my man and neither is he.” She gestured toward the human wreck that now sat drunkenly in his pissy pants. “This is my house, and you’re swinging him around like a rag doll and pounding on your chest. Why would you do this, Lorenzo?”

“I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do for you.” “That’s. . .that’s not answering the question. Why did you both fight?” “I know how this goes, Kassie. You let him get away with little things like this and he’ll continue to walk all over you. Tonight, he shows up out of nowhere and has to pass out on your couch because he’s drunk. The next time, he’s at your place drunkenly screaming out shit as Rich sits in his bedroom scared.” “And so you punched him so I wouldn’t have to deal with that?” “Someone had to set a precedence.” I should’ve taken the bass out of my voice, but I didn’t. She had to

know that I wasn’t the sort of man to sit back and let someone treat her badly. She had to understand that my package included a possessive maniac that didn’t mind cracking heads from time to time. “If he comes to your house drunk and unannounced like this again, I’m going to beat his ass. And if he calls you a name other than Kassie, I’m going to knock his teeth into his throat.” “I don’t need anyone to stand up for me.” “Too bad.” So we had face off. Ellis went back to sleep in front of us, his head laying in the spots of blood and urine on the carpet. He was a sad sight to behold, but with each bruise my

chest swelled with pride. “I watched you hit him,” she said. “I didn’t like what I saw.” “Most don’t. I’m calm. It’s just certain assholes push me over the edge.” “This asshole is going to be in my life for at least ten years, until Rich turns eighteen. I cannot deal with you and him going back and forth with punches.” “We didn’t go back and forth.” “You hit him.” My phone buzzed again. I didn’t have to check it. Rockstar had continuously phoned me since we left the beach. There’d been six missed calls from him and my gut told me that whatever the news would be, it would tear me apart. Maybe, that was why I

also beat into her ex’s face, not wanting to deal with whatever new problem might face me tonight. “Are you going to check your phone?” she asked. “No, I feel like this is more important.” “When you told me to get into the shower, you did that so you could go beat him up?” I’d hoped she hadn’t caught that part. “Yes.” “Lorenzo. . .” She glanced at him and then turned back to me. “I have to ask you to leave. This is too much. This scares me.” “I scare you.” “Yes.” She gestured back to him.

“I’ve been around him enough to predict his stupidity. I know what type of douche bag he is, but with you. . .” “You’re afraid of me.” “I just need a minute to think about all of this. You have to admit--this is crazy.” “It is.” I counted over and over. My shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t meant for everything to go this way, but it couldn’t be helped. I wasn’t lying about what I’d said. If this punk said the wrong thing to her again, I would hurt him even more and wouldn’t care if she stopped talking to me or not. It just wasn’t in me to watch her or another woman I loved, go through pain, when a simple blow with my fist could fix it.

Not many things required a fight, but when it came to abusive men, one needed a firm hand. “Okay. I’ll leave.” I bent down and picked up her disgusting ex, dragging him toward the front of the door and making sure not to get his urine-soaked pants on me. “What the hell are you doing?” “I go and he goes. Don’t worry. I’m taking him outside and then I’m going to call a cab, wait for it to come, and make sure he’s taken to the nearest hotel.” I carried the sack of shit out of her house. “The last thing I need is him waking up with a bruised face and deciding to take it out on you.” “I can defend myself.” She rushed

behind me. “Lorenzo, I don’t know about this.” “He’s not spending the night.” My phone buzzed in the back of my jeans. “But—” “Kassie, I care about you. I’m falling in love with you. I would do anything for you, but what I won’t do is let this piece of shit spend the night in your house, after I’ve just been asked to leave.” “You don’t get to make that call—” “No. You’re a writer. You know how this goes. The villain doesn’t get to stay in the castle, when the hero is kicked out.” I shut the door behind me, before she said anything else. And she didn’t.

It took about a half an hour to get a cab to the house. The whole time, Ellis lay in the grass. I would’ve kicked him in the side, if Kassie hadn’t been staring out of her window, looking at both of us. I had no idea what would happen to her and me. We’d been doing fine, and then her ex came to spoil the fun. Once the cab arrived, I paid him some extra bills and instructed him to get the bum to a hotel. Sarasota was a small city with a tiny cab group. I’d done this many times before with some of my buddies, when they’d drank too much. Luckily, the cabbie knew the drill. We got her ex into the back of the cab and I watched them drive away. Kassie chose that moment to leave the

window, and once again my phone buzzed. I now had ten missed calls from Rockstar. I put the phone to my ear. “What’s going on?” “Lou, we need to talk.” “Is it the twins?” “No, man. I figured you were with them.” “No, they’re with my mom.” “Naw. As far as I know your family is fine.” “Then what’s up?” “It’s Cicely.” My chest hollowed. My hands shook as a cold breeze blew by me. I shut out all emotion as if I was on a job

myself. Hot flames swarmed all around me. I’d already let myself come close to losing Kassie, if I hadn’t pushed her away already. I’d already allowed the lie about my daughters’ mom go too far. I’d already lost control of the whole month. What else could happen? And would it take me down? “What’s wrong?” I asked. “There was a big job on Tamiami Trail tonight. Some John went crazy, locked a couple of prostitutes into the room, and burned it up.” “And?” I hurried to my car. “She’s gone, Lou? It was her hotel room that the guy locked them in.” “Where are you?” “We’re finishing up.”

“I’m coming.” “You probably shouldn’t.” “I’m coming.”

Chapter 23 Kassie After

the guys left, I couldn’t sleep. Things had gone crazy, when they’d been so perfect in the most beautiful way. Lorenzo had made love to me. Tender kisses mingled with wild thrusts. Fire blazed in his eyes. Flames waved through my flesh. After all of the craziness from tonight, smoke still lingered in my lungs and I hoped to be smothered by him again. But could I see him again? Had he crossed the line? Surely Ellis deserved a punch in the face, but how far does Lorenzo’s temper go? It came

out of nowhere. He was a completely different person. Giving up on getting any sleep, I left the warmth of my bed and dragged myself to my office. No matter what problem I had in life, I could always solve it through writing. That was what hurt me so bad in these last months of dealing with writer’s block. Now, that I had it back, I could just focus on that and figure out the rest later. I switched on the light and spotted a letter taped to my computer screen. Who left this? I walked over and read it. Dear Kassie, Your agent delivered a termination letter of my services and

included a few threats of filing a police report based on our last session. I’ve assured her that it was all a misunderstanding, since I have healed you. May you keep writing. I’m still paid for the rest of the month. If you require my services during that time period, please feel free to call. Mama Ganga “Misunderstanding?” I shook my head. “I don’t know about that.” Her number was written at the bottom of the page. Something made me want to use it. My fingers itched to pick up the phone and call her, but I couldn’t figure out why. What the hell could I get from a conversation with her? And

wasn’t it too late to call? It had to be close to midnight by now. I shouldn’t. But still, I grabbed the phone, dialed the numbers, and held my breath as ringing filled my ears. That odd voice came through the line. “Hello?” “Mama Ganga?” “Kassie?” “Yes.” “When I said you could call me, I meant at normal hours. If this is an emergency, then you should probably call 9-1-1.” “I’m not sure why I called.” “Then maybe you should hang up, go to sleep, figure it out, and then call

me.” “I finished the witch and demon story.” “Good.” “I’m writing a new novel. It’s about a. . .writer and a fire fighter.” “Interesting.” “She has writer’s block and a son.” “Good. Use your life to put words on the page. Are you dating a fire fighter now?” “Yes.” The image of Lorenzo slamming Ellis into the wall flashed in my head. “At least, I think I’m going to date him.” “Don’t let fear dictate your life choices. Doing that will hurt your

writing. No one wants to read a book from an author that has a boring life. What could that person have to say that they haven’t already seen? In order to entertain, inspire, and thrill, you must live. You must jump off cliffs and explore caves. You must love. Good men and bad. Dark ones, and even the bright. You must cry so badly that you fall to the ground and fear you can’t stand back up. And then, after you’ve done all of those things, you must write it down.” I swallowed. “Kassie?” Mama Ganga asked. “Yes.” “Tell your agent not to press charges.” “You drugged me.”

“You’re writing. Just be lucky that we didn’t go to stage three. That’s jumping out of a plane.” “I wouldn’t have jumped out of a plane.” “You’re the real thing, Kassie. You’re a writer and you want it badly, you would’ve jumped out of anything to get it back.” I sighed. “Maybe.” “Goodbye, Kassie. Whatever is bothering you now won’t be fixed by our conversation. Whatever you’re conflicted about, make it a book. Who’s the heroine?” “Me.” “Who’s the hero?” “Lorenzo.”

“Nice name. Who’s the villain?” “My ex-husband Ellis. . .and sometimes me. I. . .I get in my own way.” “Good.” Two male voices whispered from her end. She giggled a little and then they quieted. “I have to go. It’s midnight, and I must do what people do at that time.” “Sacrifice a chicken?” I asked, but she’d already hung up the phone. Her old behind is definitely getting laid. I set my phone down and turned all of my attention to my computer. Mama Ganga had made an excellent point. In order to write, I had to live. And in order to live, I had to be more fearless. I

wasn’t ready to say that I could easily excuse Lorenzo for his deception and violence tonight, but I would give him another chance, after we’ve had some peace to think things through. Maybe with time, I’d gain clarity and he would, too. Until then, I would write about us and try to figure it out on the pages. How does our romance begin? And so I wrote all night. . . He was a fire starter. I didn’t care that he wore a firefighter uniform. All I knew was that our gazes met, and he set a blaze through my body. Hazel eyes burned every inch of my flesh. Flames rippled. Heat rose. I stumbled and had to catch my breath.

He was a fire starter. I walked toward him and my son, Rich. They both had been engrossed in conversation. And then, the sexy man looked up at me and he no longer concentrated on my son.

Chapter 24 Lorenzo Houses passed in dark shadows. The night shined clear with a full moon. But far off in the direction that I drove, smoke drifted into the sky in gray columns. Rockstar had lied. The fire was still going. How bad had it been? He started calling at the beach. That was hours ago. How much of the hotel went up in flames? I got closer. Bright lights flashed from fire trucks. Every station had come out. The police blocked any entrance into Tamiami Trail, producing a gridlock of cars. Semi-trucks and other travelers

sat in a long line that went miles back. Other cops directed them the best way they could toward detour signs pointing this way and that. Fuck. I pulled into the parking lot of a closed pizza joint and decided to run down to where Oasis hotel was. There would be no driving there. Smoke and ash hovered in the air like a mystical beast. If this had been a fantasy world, this would’ve been the aerial call of a great wizard. Something powerful and utterly dominating. But this was a fire. Something even worse. Flames took and destroyed. It spread fast and crept along with no end in sight. Outside of the car, the noise was

unbearable—sirens roared, things crashed and boomed, cars honked, people yelled and screamed. I grabbed my fire station shirt from the trunk and slung it on. Fires didn’t get out of hand like this too many times in Sarasota, but the few times they did, we jumped out of our beds, whether on or off duty. We rushed out to help and save who we could. We hurried to support our brothers and make sure that the city would be safe the next morning. So our kids could have another day in a beautiful world--to have one more day in their childhoods, before adulthood set in, and we couldn’t pretend for them anymore. I scanned the area, pushing through

all the on-lookers that crowded the sidewalks. Although Oasis hotel was a block down, the fire had spread to here. Shit. How many hotels did that one fire take down? I yanked out my badge and showed the cops holding people back. The one closest to me, played basketball with me whenever the firefighters went up against the cops. He nodded and waved me through. Behind the line of tape, it was hard to breath, but not impossible. I coughed a lot and waved burnt particles out of my face. The air was warm and hot in patches. So much had been destroyed. Trees, bushes, signs, and buildings. Trucks crowded this area. Hoses littered

the blocks and pavements. Men still sprayed black, crisp foundations that had once been completed structures. Now they barely stood, hollow and broken. Murky water spilled out into the streets. People cried. Some sat in the back of ambulance vans—street hookers with barely any clothes on their burned bodies. Some of the females looked as young as my daughters, but in their eyes I knew they’d seen a lot more than the tragedy of this night. I had to look away. The little girls were the hardest to stomach as I continued down this path, flanked by now abandoned and burnt hotels. Five blocks of a busy highway were now a deserted land. It could’ve been the

perfect stage for a post-apocalyptic scene. From the drive to the walk, I never let myself focus too much on Cicely. I’d somehow shut it off and concentrated on each second, each minute. If I thought too much into the future, I knew I would turn around and run to my mom’s house, jump into my old bunk bed where the girls now slept, and just hold them. I knew I couldn’t face it. Knew it would be bad. Hard. Difficult to survive. So, I focused on each task for each second before me. But by the time I got to Oasis, I could not remain calm. I could not shut it off. I could not walk forward without stopping for one second to take in all of the charred bodies

around me. Jesus. The Oasis hotel had been burned to the ground by some crazy John. And where this fire began, it did not end. It took too many. Many had perished tonight. Probably hundreds. Black husks. Burnt corpses. Misshapen and scorched to the core. The scent of death was so harsh it singed my nostrils. I covered my nose with my arm and screamed in my head. Everyone, from firemen to EMTs, police officers to citizen volunteers, lifted the ruined bodies and carted them to different marked zones. A couple of morgue vans were parked close. Half of the vehicles were from other counties. I closed my eyes and knew that

Cicely lay among these burnt bodies. Had he seen her body or just assumed? It didn’t matter. Almost everybody on these blocks died. And if it was her hotel room, then she went with them. Now, what? Now what do I tell my girls? The tears burned as they left my eyes. I couldn’t get the smell of death out of my nose and I couldn’t stop crying. What had I done? Why didn’t I take her with me? Why didn’t I save her? Now what will happen to the girls? Now what do I tell them? I had to get it together. My men would need help. The city too. I wasn’t the only one who’d lost tonight, so many others had also. There was no time to

fall to the ground and scream out to God, “Why, you bastard! Why?! What have I done to you?!” Someone pulled at my jeans. A deep voice came next. “Hey, aren’t you the one that was looking for Cicely the other night?” I wiped my face, glad that none of my men were around to see me. Get it together, man. I looked down. The Vet sat in his wheel chair and stared up at me. Black ash smudged his brown skin. He looked more old and tired than the night I’d seen him. A weariness etched within the wrinkles under his eyes. His jacket had more tears and black soot covered his hands and legs. He must’ve been helping

the others movie bodies. “Yeah.” The word came out in a choked sound. “I’m the one that came looking for Cicely.” “Follow me.” He didn’t wait for me to come or even look over his shoulder to make sure I was walking behind him. “Where are we going?” I forced myself to keep up with his fast wheels as he rolled over the pavement now covered with ashes, hoses, and water. “I got something to give you.” “What?” “Her things.” What? We rounded the corner and traveled toward a vacant lot that had a

broken down school bus sitting on blocks. A long handicap ramp stuck out the back. It was the only thing that survived on the block. It must’ve appeared normal a day ago, now every piece of metal was coasted in black. Cracks marred the windows. “Cicely always said she would die in that room.” The Vet got to the ramp, guided his wheel chair up, and disappeared into the dark bus. “I just didn’t think it would be from a fire.” I peered inside. All of the leather on the seats had bubbled, probably from when the fire had encased the bus in flames. “She always said it. ‘Vet, I’m going to die in that room.’ Every damn

day. I hated smoking with her. She could be pretty depressing.” He rummaged in around one seat, delivering booming sounds that echoed throughout the tattered bus. “She had me keep this box and told me to give it to her hero. I thought she was high, when she said it, until you came looking for her that night.” “I wasn’t her hero.” “Cicely had a magic about her. She could always see things. She used to tell me to play certain numbers and damn if they didn’t win me a little something. But she said that if she’d played those same digits, nothing would’ve happened. Said, she had bad luck in life.” He lifted a box, placed it on his lap, and rolled

back my way. “When I saw her yesterday, she told me again, ‘Don’t forget about that box, Vet. I’m going to die soon. I saw it.’” My head went blank. I couldn’t deal with this. Whatever all this information was. I just wanted to go back home and sit in the dark with a bottle of something. “So here you go.” The Vet gestured to the box. “I’m supposed to take it?” “I guess so. I don’t mess with the dead. A lady like Cicely is liable to come back from the dead and haunt me, if I don’t do it. So go ahead, I won’t even charge you.” Tired, I rubbed my eyes and

grabbed the box. “Thanks for that.” “You look beat up.” “Are you a doctor?” “In some ways.” He stared off to the side as men continued to carry dead bodies away. “This shit looks like a battlefield.” I swallowed as I held the box in my arms. “You know how messed up the military is?” “No.” “It messed me up so much that even though all of those burnt shells are people that I cared for and talked to, I’m still excited to be around it.” I couldn’t look at him anymore. Backing up, I turned around and walked

away. There was no time to look into the box. I’d already broken down. Whatever Cicely had decided to save, it wouldn’t be happy and full of joy. Besides, there was too much work to do tonight. No doubt we would all be cleaning up the streets until dawn. Rushing, I put the box in my car, locked the vehicle, turned back around, and ran to the scene. I had to focus on each second. Each step. Each body that needed to be covered and bagged. Each crackle that had to be watered down. Each hose that had to be removed. Each man and woman that had saved the day. Each citizen that slept safely in their beds too close to this damage. Each family

member of the ones that were lost to the flames. I couldn’t linger on the past. Not Cicely or my part in her demise. Not the future and the girls. Not Kassie and the love that I might’ve lost, nor the love that I may no longer be able to give. I had to push on. Move forward. Race and help. Fight with my brothers and shut away the noise of my grief. I had to be the hero.

Chapter 25 Kassie All

day, every local Sarasota channel played the news of the Tamiami Trail fire. Some of the national networks showed it, too. The guy who had started the whole thing had been a prominent judge that lost it. One of the girls in the hotel had begun blackmailing him. Apparently videos and her letters of threats had been discovered in his home. He’d written a long suicide note on how he would leave this Earth, but damn sure to all of the whores of this city with him. He’d taken more than that. A hundred and fifty-five people died in the

fire. Many owners were out of business and probably tons of dealers and pimps, too. The question of how this could have been avoided came up more than once in the news. People began making noise, complaining about the prostitution problem in the city and the crime, drugs, and homelessness that had plagued that area. City officials began talking, next, trying and clean up the whole affair, but no one wanted to listen. Too many had died. Some were young girls that had turned to selling their bodies, because they believed they had nowhere else to go. Others got trapped into human trafficking. The rest were lured by drugs and the wrong type of men.

The whole thing enraged me. I didn’t have daughters, but damn if these girls weren’t my children in some way. Weren’t all of these kids ours? The urge to do something roared within me. I had to write about this in some way. Make a change. Do something other than sit on the couch feeling sad. Lorenzo hadn’t called and I understood why. He had more things to do. Every city servant walked those streets. There was something I was certain about with Lorenzo, he might’ve had a serious anger problem, but he dedicated a lot to saving others. He was out there. I knew it in my bones. Damn it. Be careful.

By that evening, Tamiami Trail had been opened again. It was as clean as it could be. All the damage and bodies removed. Truckers and travelers could ride through the busy road in peace as they gazed at the destruction on both sides. I dialed Lorenzo. He didn’t answer. By then, Ellis had sobered up, come over with a swollen face, and apologized for his behavior. Throughout his apology, he looked around as if Lorenzo might be hiding in the shadows ready to pounce. Maybe a punch in the face was a good thing. Once Ellis realized Lorenzo

wasn’t there, he asked to spend time with Rich for the week. He planned to keep his hotel and take Rich back and forth to school. I obliged. Mom brought our son to the house and he left with him, promising to make sure Rich went to bed on time and was helped with any school work. I almost told him, “You better or Lorenzo will beat that ass.” Almost. But I didn’t. It was funny how I could shoot this brother with a gun and he’d still be bothering me. But then a man bigger than him, pounds his face one time, and he’s a changed man. I shook my head. “Men are so weird.” I dialed Lorenzo several more

times and knew something had to be wrong. Even if he’d been mad at me for kicking him out last night, I was sure he’d talk about it, not ignore my calls. Something had to be wrong. Maybe he’s sleeping. He could be tired. I don’t know. I have no idea where he lives. What can I do, but keep calling? By ten that night, I had called for the tenth time. I had no pride. I had to hear his voice and make sure everything was okay. Even if he was mad at me, he would have to say something to let me know that he’d made it out okay during that Tamiami Trail incident. By midnight, I’d had enough of sitting around. It probably was a bad

idea, but I decided to drive to his fire station. I could guarantee any firemen on duty was passed out in bed, but somebody had to wake up and confirm that Lorenzo was alive and uninjured. Then Lorenzo could continue to ignore me. I threw on some clothes, jumped in my car, and got there in no time. I didn’t even have to search. Lorenzo’s car sat in the lot, where I’d parked the other Saturday. Although, only the street light shown, I could make out his huge form slumped over the wheel. Is he sleeping? I shut off the car and got out. His body never moved. What’s wrong?

As soon as I arrived to the side of his car, I knocked on the window. I didn’t startle him. He took his time leaning back and looking up at me. Our gazes met. The window remained between us. He made no move to open the door or say anything. So I did it for us. I pulled the handle and opened the door. “Are you okay?” His voice sounded hoarse. “What are you doing here?” “Answer me first.” “Now’s not a good time.” “Why not?” “The fire. . .” “On Tamiami Trail. Yes. I saw it all over the news.”

He looked away from me. “Cicely died in it.” “Your ex-wife?” “Yes.” He pointed to a big dingy box in the passenger seat. “And that’s all I have left of her. I can’t even look in there and see what she considers her memories. But whatever it is, that’s all I have of her to give to my girls. I fucked up.” I held my hand to my chest. “I’m sorry.” “Even worse. There’s something I didn’t tell you. I’ve lied about who Cicely was to almost everybody. Not my close friends, but my girls don’t know. My family doesn’t know.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “As far as they know,

Cicely is in Costa Rica doing missionary work. I made up this whole story about why she ever comes by. I had Rockstar do fake pictures. Even had a female call the girls every now and then. I. . .” “You tried to give the girls a clean and hopeful picture of their mother, instead of showing them the reality.” “Yeah. I lied a lot. And now, shit is about to hit the fan.” “How long have you been lying?” “Since the girls were young.” “But you told me everything.” He turned to me. “I know and you didn’t judge me.” “I can’t judge you for her actions.” “Well. . .she’s dead now so it doesn’t even matter.”

“It does.” I went to him. “Push your seat back.” He gave me an odd look, but did as I asked. Without even asking, I climbed into his lap, got as comfortable as I could, and faced him. “Close the door.” He made sure my leg wasn’t in the way and shut us in. “Kassie. . .I’m not sure I’m ready to. . .” “When you feel bad, you should always come to me or at least call. I would like to start this tradition as soon as possible.” “Kassie. . .” “I’m writing about us.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “You’re the hero in the story.”

“Am I?” “Yes.” I sighed. “But in real life, I’m your hero. Is that okay? Can I be there for you like you want to be there for me? Can I beat up females that bother you? Can I soothe you after a rough fire? Can I hold you when you have a nightmare?” More tears fell from his eyes. How odd it was to see a strong man cry. He wiped them away and I could see the change come. I knew that it would be the last tear of the day. His gaze hardened and a neutral expression spread across his face. And so I just said it. “I think I love you, Lorenzo.” He set his hands on my thighs and

leaned back in his chair. “How do you feel about me?” I asked. His hard expression remained. “I love you.” “You don’t sound happy about that.” “I’m breaking away inside.” “And I’m here to stop you from falling apart.” Fear rose inside of me, but I shoved it away. “So we have to fix this. What do you want to do?” “I don’t know what I can do.” “You have to tell them the truth.” I hugged him. The wheel of the car digging a little into my ass. We’d have to get out of this SUV soon so I could stretch my legs, but for now it would

have to do. “We’ll have to tell everyone the truth.” “We?” “I guess.” He pushed me back and stared at me. “Kassie, you don’t have to help me do this. And you damn sure don’t have to come with me and tell my daughters that their mother was. . .was what she was.” He had a lot of good points, but all of that was too late. I’d already decided to write something about this fire and the tragedy of drugs and prostitution on the females in this city. I just didn’t have the information or the path to do it. Now I had it. Just like every other problem in my life, I’d solve Lorenzo’s dilemma

through writing. “Let’s write a book about Cicely.” I nodded my head. Chapters spun around in my mind. “Let’s talk about it all. We could figure out who she was. Start right when she was born and follow her path to learn how she wound up at this hotel on that night.” “What?” “It could be something. . .I can’t think of the word. Maybe, tribute is what I’m thinking. I don’t know.” I let out a long breath. “What I’m trying to say is that we can tell the truth the entire time, but still honor her. And we can tell your story, too.” “I don’t know, Kassie.” “Trust me on this. What you did

was a bit much, but some people would understand it. Others wouldn’t even know what to do, if faced with the same predicament.” “A book?” “Yeah. A book. We. . .” I turned to the box. “We look in here and see what we can find. We delve into her past. Do you know where she was born?” “Yeah. Miami. I have some of her relatives’ addresses. Her father and mother are still both in jail. Apparently they both spent a lot of time in and out the system.” “Sounds like a rough childhood.” “It had to have been. Cicely could’ve been more than what she’d become.”

“But somebody or something stomped out her will to live.” I held his face. “And Lorenzo, baby you can’t beat yourself up about this. You have to just keep pushing on. We’ll write this book. It’ll give you time to heal and gather all the things you want to say to your girls. It’ll be Cicely’s legacy to them.” “God.” He buried his face into the curve of my neck. “It’s so fucking crazy I think it could work. I can’t believe you would help me with this.” “Trust me. We’re helping each other. I love romance and erotica, but I also want to use my writing to save people. This could be a book that could wake parents up and change a lost girl’s life.”

“And my daughters would have something of their mother.” “Yes.” “They’ll probably be angry and never trust anything I say again.” “You’re their dad and they will be entering puberty soon, that was going to happen regardless. But trust me on this, when they read what you’ve done and all the crazy energy you put into keeping up the lie, they’ll know that you love them.” I kissed his forehead. “They’ll also know that you’re fucking crazy, but what parent isn’t a little insane at times?” He moved his face up and kissed me, consuming my lips and sucking on my tongue in between nibbles. He kissed me. Gentle and then

hard, pulling my hair and almost sucking the life out of me. He kissed me. Consumed and devoured, ripping away at my dress and lapping at the tops of my breasts. He took me. Right in the car. In that uncomfortable driver’s seat. My dress pushed up over my thighs. Panties slid to the sides. His dick barely out of his jeans. Horn honking between pumps. The SUV rocking. He fucked me hard and I rode him, groaning like I was in pain, instead of pleasure. Surely the firemen in the station heard us. But no one came out to stop. He pumped and pounded and I met each thrust and every stroke. He fucked me so hard that I came

all over his big dick and opened jeans. He’d never get the smell or the scent out. Everything was so creamy and his own sperm spurting out as he bucked hard. My head hit the ceiling and I held on for dear life. He fucked me and all I could think about was him and how we’d have to do this again and again, but definitely not in his SUV. By the next morning, we lay in my bed, exhausted after several more sessions. By lunch, we’d opened up the Cicely box. What I discovered gave me a mental orgasm. Dear Cicely had filled it with notebooks. She’d been writing poems and little journal entries. Some of

them came out drug-induced and crazy. Others made me cry. But most were about her twins. Unbeknownst to Lorenzo, Cicely had followed the girls to school, always keeping a good distance between them and her. She’d watched them from the window of some of their classes, knew the parks that they played in, the songs that they sang, and the games that they made up on their walks home. She drew amazing sketches of them. Her drawings filled the notebooks. Each one more breathtaking than the other. Cicely had written it all down and numbered sections like she was labeling chapters.

Lorenzo shoveled through it all in shock and disbelief. “I bet she knew someone was going to write a book about her.” I looked up from one Cicely’s entries. “What? That’s crazy.” “Life is crazy.” He showed me the first page in one of the notebooks and my body stiffened. In the center of the page it read, This book is dedicated to my girls, Hope and Faith. May my life be a lesson. May you avoid the mistakes that I made. Make new mistakes!

Epilogue Lorenzo A year later

We

all sat at the banquet table— Kassie’s mom and mine, Rich and the twins, and of course, Brown Sugar and me. Another woman sat at our table. Kassie called her something odd. I thought the name might’ve been Mother Ganja, but I wasn’t sure. The old woman had a large bun with gray dreadlocks and had walked over with a huge wooden cane covered in tons of hearts where little rainbows shot out at the center. An assortment of pink and white

flowers decorated the center or our table and all the others in the elaborate room. Journalists and photographers crowded into the room, as well as other celebrated authors like Kassie. When Kassie told us about the Mana Linc’s literary award ceremony, I’d figured it would be a little event. Something cute that we’d go to. But then she told me it was in D.C. and that the president would be there, and I realized that what we’d put together had exceeded both of our expectations. Our book, Cicely’s Letters, had gained even more exposure than what I’d thought. When we gathered all of her notes together, researched her past, and put it into one book, we’d only planned

to print a few books. For fun, Kassie’s agent, Sam helped us self-publish it as an eBook So far, the awards ceremony had been a spectacular even. Major R&B artists sang. A famous poet performed and a full orchestra was located in front of the stage. We hadn’t even followed its success. On the e-book’s release day, we’d spent it on the beach with the kids, running and playing with them. That evening, her agent called Kassie on the phone, screaming on the other side, “We’re rich!” Five thousand copies sold that day. Who knew that others would care to hear this woman’s story, this person that had

been lost and hidden from so many. The next day, sales rose to ten thousand. By the end of the month, it hit the NY Times Bestseller’s list. The next month, Kassie’s agent had orchestrated a major book deal and a huge check. It gave us money to save for a possible future wedding. Something that I hinted about, more and more. She’s mine. I might as well put a ring on it to let everyone else know. Under the banquet table, Kassie’s hand shook in mine. I leaned her way and whispered, “Relax, baby.” “I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “You’re shaking.” “No, I’m not.” She squeezed my

fingers and shook some more. “Fine, maybe just a little.” “You’re going to win.” “Oh, it doesn’t even matter.” She giggled with giddiness. “The president is over there and he knows my name. I’ve already won.” “Good point.” Cicely’s Letters gained the attention of many politicians. Most had used the book as a platform to discuss prostitution and human trafficking in the country. And each month, the sales soared higher and higher. But none of that mattered as much as what the book had meant to my girls. Once we completed the book, I sat down with my daughters and read it to them,

skipping over some of the rougher parts. Many sections made them cry. Others laugh. Cicely always had a good sense of humor, even during the darkest times. Surprisingly, Hope and Faith never got mad at me. Hope even admitted that she figured their mom had never been doing mission work. Apparently, they remembered the times they had spent with their mother. They hadn’t forgotten it like I hoped. It was funny how kids could remember the craziest things. They’d gone along willingly with my lies, more for me than them. They’d already counted their blessings and accepted the fate of their mother. It was I who hadn’t come to grips with the reality.

The room darkened as the orchestra finished their song and the president walked onto the stage to announce the winner of the year’s Most Inspirational Contemporary. “If they call me, you’re coming up?” Kassie asked for the hundredth time that day. “Yes, Brown Sugar.” “I don’t want to slip in these heels.” I let go of her hand, stared at her tummy that had now become a soft little bump, and smiled with pride. “I don’t want you to slip either. The twins might get hurt.” Kassie widened her eyes. “It’s not twins. Stop saying that.”

“It’s twins.” “Stop that.” “Boy twins.” “I’m ignoring you.” The president began his speech, but all I could do was reach in my pocket and pull out the thing that I’d been wanting to show Kassie all week. That damn ring had been burning in my pocket and I couldn’t keep it there any longer. Kassie stared at the stage, totally captivated. With the box in my hand, I opened her fingers and placed it inside. “I love you, Kassie.” “What?” She turned away from the president and looked at her hand.

“Lorenzo?” “Marry me.” And then the whole room stood and clapped, everyone gazing at us. Our mothers, kids, and that dreadlocked women rose and cheered for us. “Fuck.” Kassie twisted back and forth like a wild woman. “Did they call our book?” Hope yelled, “Oh, my God! Cicely’s Letters won!” Kassie tried to get up, but I wouldn’t let her. “Marry me?” I pushed the box further into her hand and whispered with a sly smile. “Yes.” “You’re mine.”

“Forever.” She tugged me forward. “Come on. Let’s go accept our award.”

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