1

Shara &

Friends

Naughty

Bites

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are
used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.



Copyright© 2009 Dréa Riley-Frisky Whiskey
Copyright© 2009 Laura Guevara-Cowboy Loving Night
Copyright© 2009 Shara Azod-Double Up
Copyright© 2009 Jeanie Johnson & Jayha Leigh-Original
Gangsta Daddy
Cover Artist: Shara Azod
Editor: Jennifer Puckettt





All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced electronically or in print without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied
in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or
give any ebooks away.

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D

EDICATION

We would like to dedicate this anthology to all our readers.

You guys rock, thank you so much for supporting our work.

~Shara

4

F

RISKY

W

HISKEY

BY

D

RÉA

R

ILEY

5

Frisky Whiskey

Angelo sat in his usual booth, nursing his usual scotch on the

rocks. He had absolutely no desire to be at The Depot tonight. Well,

almost absolutely none. There was the cute cherub behind the bar. He

had a desire for her all right. He snorted as he watched the mix of

pseudo yuppies, fake cowboys, and pretend bikers mix with the local

college crew. There probably wasn’t a bar in history that could be

what this place was. This place brought ‘em all together. Sure there

was tension, but that was part of the allure, and it never boiled over. If

folks wanted to fight they took it to one of the other clubs in the famed

Depot District. But if they wanted to dance with the hottest girls, drink

the best booze, taste bar food that made the world’s top chefs jealous

(well that was until the owner made nice and invited them in for dinner

and then left them weeping in their plates); if they wanted to watch the

best musicians showcased, they came here. And everyone came here.

Here was a converted warehouse off I-27 in down town

Lubbock, Texas. The neon lights blazed the club’s name brightly:

SHHHHH…! And as far as Angelo was concerned as long as she was

behind that bar, here was the outskirts of heaven. He watched as he

did almost every Saturday night. She mixed drinks with a

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showmanship flare and made easy conversation with the patrons.

When there wasn’t a group of men vying for position at the long wood

and chrome bar she’d dance with the other bartender. The long mirror

behind the bar and along the ceiling reflected her beauty for all to see.

Her ensemble always consisted of some form of boots, a pair or well

worn and often times ripped jeans and wide range of tops, from tee

shirts to jerseys, tank tops to corsets.

Tonight was a corset night. The purple brocade was the real

McCoy. Because of the mirror he could see that there were two set of

laces each started in the middle of her creamy chocolate back. The first

set of laces looked wider, more like ribbon than the bottom laces.

Though they were probably laced just as tight there were delectable

little flashes of skin between them and they ended in an artful knot that

resembled a rose sitting between her shoulder blades. The second set

was laced so tightly together that only air could penetrate the gaps,

ending in a neat bow, with the strings dancing along the tantalizing

globes peeking over the waist of her low rise denim skirt.

That scrap of material caused Angelo to sit up straighter. She

never wore skirts, let alone something that minuscule. The cloth was

cupping the globes of her ass as if holding on for dear life. Angelo

7

watched closely as she moved from customer to customer. Her thick

thighs taunting him from over the tops of her knee high boots. He

followed the line of those thighs until they disappeared under the

shadow of the skirt. His mouth watered as he continued to watch her

working. He marveled at the graceful way she moved. Desire raced

through his blood and he felt it increasingly more difficult to remain

seated across the room.

A fine sheen of sweat coated her skin. It was like looking at

stretched silk. There was no one thing that described her rich ebony

tones. She had the look of gooey caramel covered in a thin layer of

rich milk chocolate. Just then she raised a delicate hand to brush back

and errant curl. Angelo’s breath caught as she suddenly pumped both

arms in the air and swiveled her hips. The little bobbing motion she

was doing threatened to expose her bountiful breasts. He waited

willing those globes to spill over while praying that they wouldn’t.

Somehow she must have felt him watching her. She opened her eyes

and locked on to him. Angelo knew she had on colored contact lenses.

She’d admitted to him a while back that she kept the opaque lenses as

part of her “disguise.”

8

“No one here knows me ‘Lo,” she’d whispered in that sultry

southern drawl. “They come to SHHhhh! for a show and a good time,

that’s what I give them.” She’d leaned over the bar then, neatly

pouring his scotch behind her back while getting close enough to

whisper in his ear. “This is my business, ‘Lo …and business is good.”

Suddenly his hunger for her was greater than it had ever been.

Months of watching her dance behind that bar were finally taking their

toll. Angelo slid out of the booth and stood. He checked the crowd

and made eye contact with the waitress before tossing down a few bills

and diving in to the fray. Swaying bodies brushed against him but he

didn’t slow down. A few feet on to the dance floor and a skinny

blonde stepped purposefully in front of him. She moved fluidly with

the music and shook what she must have imagined to be a backside.

She looked over her shoulders at Angelo in a blatant “how can you not

want all of this” fashion. Angelo quirked one thick brow at her before

gently placing his hands on her hips. He felt her hip bones stab his

palms and fought the urge to gag. He hated skinny women. Well, hate

was a strong word. Angelo didn’t hate very many people he just had a

preference for his women to look like women and not like skeletons.

When the blonde began to execute the “I’m gonna dance around you

9

so have follow me move” Angelo rolled his eyes heavenwards. Once

he felt her at his back sliding down to undoubtedly crouch in some

awkward see my panties move, Angelo started making his way to the

bar again. He was sure the little vixen was flat on her ass, but he

couldn’t be bothered to care. This time he pasted a “get the fuck out

my way” look on his face and watched as the crowd seemed to clear a

path for him.

Lisa felt Jarron tap her on the shoulder. She’d had her back to

the bar pulling a tray of chilled schooners from the blast freezer neatly

hidden under the liquor cabinet. She caught her friend’s eye in the

mirror and followed his gaze behind them. If it hadn’t been for

Jarron’s reflexes she would have dropped the tray and broken all

twenty four of the mugs. Lisa barely acknowledged Jarron moving the

tray from her hands to the bar. Her gaze was locked on to and tracking

the most stunning specimen of maleness to ever set foot in Texas.

She didn’t miss the small throng of women who tried to

position themselves in his path. It was amusing, really, they way

women attempted to attract the attention of a handsome, alluring man.

Even women who had come to the bar with their significant others and

were currently dancing with their mates began to over exaggerate their

10

movements. It looked like a bad shampoo commercial as long manes

of red, brown and silver began being tossed over shoulders. And the

bad thing was, once the hair show started then the men felt they had to

step up their game. Competing to keep their partners focused on them.

It was all hilarious to Lisa. She shook her head and watched as

one girl in particular broke from the middle of the crowed to dance

with Angelo. He politely indulged the madness for a few moments but

as the chick worked her way behind him he walked off leaving her

practically sprawled on the dance floor. Lisa winced; she hoped the

girl had on underwear, if not someone was getting an eye full. She

watched as the would-be vixen was assisted off the floor by a couple

of females, all of their expressions feigned concern and hiding

laughter. The blonde stared daggers at Angelo’s retreating back before

storming from the dance floor in dramatic huff.

Lisa caught his eye and watched as he gave a small shrug and

rolled his eyes. He continued his path to the bar, this time undeterred.

Two years of Saturdays and the man still took her breath away.

It was always the same. He came early and stayed till the place closed.

He wasn’t a weekend partier though. Only Saturday nights. Buisness

and other things kept him busy Monday through Friday. Sunday he’d

11

informed her was for staying in bed late. Heat rushed her face when

she thought about spending a lazy day in bed with him. She had

images of his big body filled with sinewy muscles hovering over her

with sweat dripping from the tips of his soaked hair to splash on to her

overheated skin. Lisa could virtually hear the sizzle as the little

droplets vaporized into steam.

“Girl, if you don’t stop staring at that man the Fire Marshall

will be up in here investigating. I can see the headlines now: Deadly

night club fire caused by sparks from sexual tension,” Jarron teased.

Lisa didn’t take her eyes off the hotness that was working his

way to the bar as she extended her arm to the side a saluted her friend

and employee. She chose to ignore his laughter, as well as the

collective “Oh’s” from the crush of guys at the bar. As Angelo drew

closer to the end of the long bar Lisa snagged a bottle of water from a

mini fridge. She dropped the bottle into a beer mug and without

looking sent it sailing down the long mahogany runway and right into

Angelo’s waiting hands. He grasped the mug just as it reached the

edge of the wood and paused to lift it in salute.

Lisa could see the small flicker of amusement in his arctic blue

gaze. She tipped her head in acknowledgement and the watched as he

12

carried the mug with him toward the dark corridor that lead to both the

restrooms and the private elevator. Her eyes took in the confident way

he walked, broad shoulders back and proudly squared, the man had

swagger without even trying. Mighty jungle cats would envy the way

he moved. Her eyes drifted down to where the baggy dark washed

jeans rode low on his hips and accented his lean waist and tight ass.

Her tongue snaked out involuntarily to lick her lips. A small quiver

worked its way low in her stomach and she closed her eyes to relish

the tingle. When she opened them again, Angelo had disappeared from

her sight, her view blocked by a couple of frat brats in J Crew. They

eyed her with the same hunger that she’d been following Angelo with.

Lisa didn’t show any concern for the two over excited young

men. She simply lifted an eyebrow and waited for them to place and

order. When neither seemed inclined to stop staring at her breasts she

stepped forward and cleared her throat. As she watched the red blush

of embarrassment creep on their necks she gifted them with a small

smile.

The short one grew balls first and started to speak.

“So would you like...”

13

Lisa cut him by lifting her left hand and displaying the large 4

carat diamond set in platinum and sandwiched between two titanium

and tungsten bands. Winking at the two men she passed them their

drinks and moved down the bar while a couple of regulars walked up

and patted them on the back.

“Don’t worry boys,” Jarron said as he served other patrons.

“She’s taken, but there are several ladies here tonight that would just

love to have a good time.”

Lisa sighed as she made her way from the office behind the

kitchen back up to the bar. It had been an hour since last call and the

music had stopped. She wanted to make sure she thanked the staff for

another great night. She knew they’d all be out front, as the kitchen

was spotless and gleaming. The smell of food had been replaced with

that of citrus and cleaner.

After an hour of cleaning the crew was gone. After a brief

round of hugs and small talk she walked the bus boys and Jarron to the

club’s front doors and set the alarm and locks. Standing behind the bar

once again, Lisa poured herself a soda and added a wedge of lime and

a cherry. She looked around her business and felt her heart swell with

14

pride. With a whoop of delight she hopped up on the bar and danced

to a jaunty rhythm only she could hear.

She never danced on the bar during business hours. This was

her secret little vice. Her victory moment. Every so often she just had

to celebrate her accomplishments. With her arms above her head she

swished and swayed the length of the bar and back again. She stopped

here and there to dip and roll her hips and torso but her body was

always in constant movement.

The sound of slow applause startled her. Lisa stood up quickly

and spun around on her high heeled boots. The movement was so fast

she lost her balance and began to fall. Arms and legs flailing and drink

glasses flying, she lost the battle to stay on the bar and tried to force

herself to relax in order to lessen the impact of the fall. In that

moment, a set of strong familiar arms plucked her from mid air and

spun her in a circle.

Lisa sighed and relaxed in the comfortable and safe embrace.

The scent of his aftershave and soap washed over her and titillating

her senses.

“I know you’ve fallen for me, but there’s no reason to break

your neck on the way down, babe”

15

The deep timber of his Appalachian drawl vibrated through her

and caused her thighs to tremble and her heart to lurch. She nuzzled

her face deeper into his neck and grazed her lips against his skin. The

slight stubble of his on his jaw exciting her. She wanted to feel that

coarseness against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Hot, molten

desire soaked her thong at the thought. She felt Angelo’s thick

muscled arms tighten around her and his Adam’s apple bobbed against

her forehead. She knew he was feeling just as excited as she was.

Angelo cradled Lisa’s lush body closer to his heart. Standing in

front of the bar, he watched as she wiggled slowly in his arms. His

nostrils flaring at the scent of her arousal mixing with the light floral

perfume she favored. Just holding her near like this both comforted

and unsettled him. He was only truly at peace when he had her with in

arms reach, but having her snuggled in his arms and writhing with

slowly building passion was making it hard as hell for him to keep

standing.

He moved a few steps closer to the bar and draped her

lengthwise on the dark wood. He watched closely as her body reacted

to the contact with the cool surface. She didn’t open her eyes but he

16

could see the passion radiating from her as she stretched her limbs and

arched her back.

Their reflections danced for him in the mirrors and he was

fascinated with watching from that vantage point.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” he instructed her, his voice

raspy with emotions, “show me where you want me to be. Look up

and see yourself. Look how beautiful you look teasing me.”

He watched then as her eyes fluttered open and the amber

lenses did little to conceal the passion that flamed in her eyes. He

didn’t want the show that the patrons got. He wanted her.

“Take ‘em off” he growled. When he saw the question flash

across her face. “You can see without those dayum lenses. Take em

off. I want to see you. I want to watch the flames dance in your

beautiful black eyes.”

He waited patiently as Lisa reached up with practice ease and

pulled the colored lenses from her eyes. He handed her a drink napkin

to dispose of them in and watched as she blinked rapidly to quell the

sting of having taken the lenses out without cleaning her hands first.

When she finally stopped blinking and focused on him again he stared

so deeply into her eyes that she began to shiver and make soft little

17

mewling noises. He loved that he could turn her on just by staring at

her.

Angelo began to lightly trace his fingers over her body. The

tips barely making contact as they danced over the twin mounds of her

breasts. When she arched up to meet his touch he noted the hard

pebbles of her nipples pressing against the material of her corset. With

both hand he lightly teased the nubbins until Lisa was gasping, her

hands wrapped around his wrists silently begging him to increase the

pressure.

“You want more, baby? You want me to twist those beautiful

little nipples?” He asked. He kept watching as her skin flushed a deep

red and she furrowed her brow. Angelo knew his little kitten. She

didn’t want him to talk even though it turned her on. She wanted him

to touch her, strip her naked and play her body like he did the strings

of his banjo.

“Look at me, kitten, watch me touch you. Watch in the mirror

as I play with your body.”

Lisa snapped her eyes open and stared directly into Angelo’s.

She was dying for him to just strip her and take her hard, but she knew

how much he loved the buildup. It drove him wild to tease her,

18

withholding her climax from her until she was sure she’d stab him in

the neck with an ice pick if he didn’t take her.

She stared at him, and saw the challenge in his ice blue gaze.

Her womb tightened and honey flowed hotly down her thighs. Each

breath she took would have sucked her panties against her core and

aggravated her clit had she been wearing any. If he would just touch

her there once. That’s all she need to go over the edge but she knew he

wouldn’t, not until she was begging.

“Please?” she whispered, pouting when he refused to bring his

hands back to her body.

“Please? You know I will always please you, baby. Tell me

how? Tell me what you want.”

Lisa groaned deep in her throat. Angelo was not about to make

this easy for her. Fine, she could play it his way this time. She was too

hot to try to challenge him. She’d been ready for him since she

watched him stroll from his booth earlier. Hell, she’d been hot from

him from the moment she woke up this morning.

“Take my clothes of ‘Lo. Touch me. Make me cum.”

Angelo’s eyes seemed to melt at her words and become white

hot orbs. His intense gaze nearly made her cum. Coupled with the fact

19

that his fingers found the hidden zip on her corset and Lisa nearly lost

it. The sensation of the zipper rasping down and exposing her body to

the air and Angelo was so heady. When she looked up and caught her

reflection above them a small moan tore through her body.

Angelo painstakingly peeled the sides of the corset away from

her body. Once the material was completely open he lightly traced his

fingers over the indentations on her skin. He traced every crease

caused by the corset’s boning. Lisa watched as he kissed each of the

angry red marks that crisscrossed her skin. He found himself with a

feeling of anger underneath his passion. How dare she wear such a

contraption? There was never a reason for her skin to be marked

unless it was caused by the stubble on his jaw. He let his fingers dance

over the welts, massaging and soothing her as he went. He was pleased

as she moaned and moved beneath his touch. As his gaze zeroed in on

the dark berry peaks of her nipples, he decided to discuss her choice of

clothing later. At this moment he needed to suckle at her breast like he

needed to breathe.

Dipping his head low he began just under her belly button and

smelled his way up her torso. One long, deep inhalation to capture the

essence of her. He ended the breath in the valley that was her cleavage.

20

Lisa had brought her arms up slightly, causing her breasts to press

against each other. They created a luscious little furrow that Angelo

buried his face in. He laved the area with his tongue tasting the salty

sweet musk of her body. The warmth and moisture beckoned him.

Called to him to place his raging hard on between those folds.

MMMMMM. So many ways to take her and nothing but time

to decided which way first. Angelo stood and stared down at Lisa. Her

body prone and quivering. Waiting for him to master it. Looking

down the length of her body he noticed that she was still wearing that

scrap of denim that was her skirt, and better still, she still had her boots

on. He suddenly had a craving to have them over his shoulders,

pointed to the ceiling as he fucked her on the bar.

Angelo took two seconds to divest himself of his

clothing before getting up on the bar. He situated himself between her

sprawled thighs and made himself at home. Staring down into her

deep brown eyes he lifted her bottom and rolled the skirt, so that it was

more like a belt around her waist. All sanity was lost when it dawned

on him that she was not wearing any panties. Had someone besides

him caught a glimpse up that skirt? Anger and passion warred with in

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him. How many times had he witnessed her dancing or bending over

tonight? The heady thought nearly caused him to pass out.

Oh, she was going to hear about that. She’d never be in danger

of exposing herself to anyone but him because he was going to burn

this skirt and any other half ass piece of material he found in their

closets. But later, right now he was going to make her pay in a

different way.

Lisa watched in the mirror while Angelo was running one

finger over her inner thighs. She knew when he’d lifted her skirt that

he was on edge. She was sure he had something evil planned for her

skirt. But all she wanted was for him to take her. NOW. She tried to

shift and wiggle so that he would just get down to business. Angelo

danced his touch criminally close to her quaking epicenter, but never

quite touching her where she needed it the most. He did the same

thing on her other thigh, going all the way from the tops of her boots

all the way up to the apex of her thighs and over the soft curve of her

belly. He dipped his maddening fingers in her belly button, imitating

what she wanted his cock to do, before pulling out and flicking the

stud at the top of her belly button. This turned her on like nothing else.

Lisa loved what his finger was doing she just wanted him to do it the

22

nubbin of nerves lower down. She trembled under his ministrations.

Finally, not being able to hold off any longer she looked him dead in

the eye. “OK, motherfucker you win. Take me. Now. Do not make me

get off this bar and kick your ass.”

Angelo knew she was serious and checked off another victory

on the battle scoreboard. Though he knew when it was over she would

be riding high on him like an ebony queen on her throne. He took her

legs in the crooks of his arms, poised at her entrance. Leaning low so

his lips where against her ear he could feel the gentle sucking of her

velvety folds kissing the head of his dick.

Balancing his weight on his forearms he whispered in the

delicate shell of her ear. “Baby, I want you to lift your legs and rest

them over my shoulders,”

Her eyes grew big but did as he asked, moving her legs so they

draped over his shoulders. Then he took her breath away as he surged

inside her. And he watched as those brown orbs rolled back in her

head. The beast in him preened. He was going to make sure she could

see behind her at all times.

As her first orgasm washed over her, Lisa slammed her eyes

shut. The head of his dick was somewhere near her larynx, and

23

damned if she wasn’t loving the taste of cock. After the first wave of

pleasure washed over her she opened her eyes and found that the view

was just as amazing as the position. She was free to watch their

reflection as Angelo led her to nirvana. He had complete control over

her, but she did not fear him. She knew it was a struggle for him to

stay still. And she really wanted him to move now that she’d regained

her breath.

Lisa decided to push him by lifting her legs straight up in the

air and flex her muscles. She gasped as she looked up at the ceiling

and saw the soles of her boots. There was something on the bottom.

She flexed and pointed her toes trying to get a better view of the paper.

But all thoughts flew out the window as Angelo touched something

deep within her.

Angelo didn’t know what Lisa was thinking by lifting her legs

but whatever she was doing with her feet was wreaking havoc on his

dick. If her body pulled him any further in his balls would be sucked

inside. The contractions of her sheath were milking him in a way that

had him hanging on to the last strains of his control by his teeth. Lisa

flexed one last time and something in him snapped. Angelo reared up

causing the length of his dick to graze that mysterious spot at the front

24

of her hot box, the one that caused her to squeal and clamp down on

him like a vice.

Guiding her legs, Angelo pushed them over her head until the

toes of her pointed boots all but kissed the bar. Once she’d adjusted

her arms to hold her thighs to his liking, Angelo found purchase with

his finger tips and toes and proceeded to fuck Lisa until his eyes rolled

back. The motion of their sweat slicked bodies causing them to slide a

few inches up the bar. Angelo stared down watching as his body slid in

and out of Lisa’s and Lisa stared up watching the play of muscles

rippling from Angelo’s shoulders down to his calves. Both were so

wrapped up in the sight of each other that neither of them noticed the

blinking red eye of the security camera high in the bar’s ceiling.

Lisa was in heaven. The sight of her lover delving into her was

nearly enough to push her over the edge. Seeking to spur him on she

moved her legs so that she could wrap them around his waist and dig

her heels into the backs of his thighs. Angelo didn’t disappoint her.

He pushed harder and faster. It seemed to Lisa that he was expanding

within her. The friction built and built until it blinded her and suddenly

euphoria over took her.

25

Angelo knew the moment Lisa moved her legs that she was

about to gift him with her orgasm. It was all he needed to feel the flood

of her nectar wash over him and he was off like a bottle rocket. As he

collapsed down on her and rested his head in the sweat soaked valley

of her breasts, he wondered how he would explain to the doctor that

his big toes were both sprained.

Angelo and Lisa lay together on the bar giggling. Lisa because

she’d heard his mussing about sprained big toes and Angelo because

he could do nothing other than laugh when Lisa laughed. Except

maybe get hard considering he was still deeply embedded within her.

The vibrations from her laughter doing things to his dick that only got

whispered about in boys’ locker rooms.

“Baby, as much as I want you to take me again, this bar is

killing my back.”

“You know we’re closed for renovations, don’t you?”

A small frown marred Lisa face as Angelo disentangled their

limbs and climbed off the bar. She sat up gingerly and swung her legs

over the side.

26

“Why is that?” She asked not really interested because the sight

of Angelo’s naked body always distracted her from any thought other

than tackling him and having her way with him.

“Because I have to replace that bar. There is no way in hell

some college punk is going to belly up to the bar we made our first

baby on. Maybe I’ll salvage part of it and make a crib or something

but it definitely has to come out of here.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do while you’re replacing the

bar. Shhh!!! has been open every weekend since I bought the place.”

Lisa asked as she watched an Angelo gather up their clothing.

Hopping off the bar and stretching she waited for his answer. When he

didn’t say anything, she turned to catch him staring at the mirrored ball

in the corner of the ceiling.

“Hey, don’t be staring at my dick.” She sassed. When Angelo

didn’t immediately respond she shrugged on his sweater and made her

way to stand next to him. When she was right behind him and looking

up she noticed the look of bewilderment and wonder in his face. Then

it dawned on her. He was staring right at the security camera. The little

red light blinking like a metronome indicating that it was recording.

27

“OH MY GOD!” Lisa’s screeched echoed through the empty

bar moments before she spun on her heels and rushed headlong to the

office with Angelo hot on her heels.

“Don’t you dare erase that disc, woman! At least not until we

watch a couple of hundred times first!”

28

C

OWBOY

L

OVING

N

IGHT

BY

L

AURA

G

UEVARA

29

Cowboy Loving Night

Looking around the crowded dance floor he spotted her red

shirt first. Checking out the rest of her, his body went on total alert.

Her legs called out to him. While some men were attracted to long

legs, he preferred thick, shapely legs that would hug him tight as he

surged into her or wrap around his neck as he got a taste. In a tight

denim skirt and cowboy boots, he couldn’t help but stare.

He ignored his friends and brother as he continued to watch

her. “Son of bitch,” he cursed as saw the incompetent fool step on her

feet yet again. She tried to hide the grimace from the idiot of a man

she was dancing with. No dancing was not the correct word for what

he was attempting to do. Poor guy would never be able to learn the

steps to lead a woman across the floor.

He on the other hand was an excellent teacher, a master in the

art of country dancing. His mother taught him at a young age. He

could still remember his parents dancing every night after dinner.

“Hey, Hunter, where did you go off to,” his brother’s current

girlfriend asked.

30

“Looks like something or someone caught his attention,” joked

his brother.

Hunter ignored their laughter as he finished his drink. Setting

the empty beer down, he said to the crowd around the table, “don’t

wait around for me,” before making his way to the dance floor. It was

time to save her feet from anymore pain and claim what was his.

***

Why had she agreed to dance? What was she thinking? For

the umpteenth time Mark stepped on her toes as he maneuvered her

clumsily around the dance floor. He was a really nice guy but he was

no dancer. It didn’t help that she wasn’t an expert dancer either. But

when he asked her to dance, she couldn’t say no. Her Lucchese high-

heeled cowboy boots could protect her feet only so much. Looking

down at her poor bruised feet, she didn’t see the guy that came up to

them.

“May I have the next dance,” asked a deep voice that had Iris’s

neck snap up. She could only stare as the delicious mystery man

crowded Mark out of the way and took her into his arms as the next

song started. Iris had no time to think as he expertly moved them

31

across the dance floor. Several twirls and fancy moves later she was

panting for breath but clearly enjoying herself.

He was a way better dancer than Mark could ever hope of

being. Both of his big strong capable hands rested on her hips,

guiding her where he wanted. Her hands gripped his biceps, trying to

keep pace with his longer legs. Standing at 5’6 in her boots, her

partner towered over her by at least a foot.

Six songs later she needed a break. So when the song came to

an end she let him know she was parched.

“I really need a cold drink,” she said loud enough to be heard

over all the noise.

Pulling her close, he took her elbow and guided her to the

nearest bar.

“Two cold ones,” he told the bartender, as he leaned into the

bar.

Picking up her hair from her neck, she waved her hand in order

to get some air to her already damp neck. She knew it didn’t look sexy

but she had long thick hair and it was driving her crazy.

32

“Here let me,” he said. She nearly squealed when he felt his

hands on her neck, patting her neck dry with a paper towel.

Iris stood frozen not knowing what to do. No one had ever

done that for her. Ever. Looking up into his face, he just winked at

her as he turned to pay the bartender for their drinks.

Taking one, she gulped it down before setting the empty bottle

on the bar. He just laughed and ordered two more.

“Thanks. I’m really thirsty.” And she finished the second one

almost as fast as the first beer. The cold liquid felt so good going

down her parched throat. And not all of it had to do with dancing;

most of it was solely due to the cowboy standing before her. The plaid

cowboy shirt stretched across a very broad and solid chest. It was

tucked into a pair of well worn wranglers.

“I don’t even know your name,” she finally said.

“Hunter.”

“Iris. Thanks for the dance, or I should say dances, but I need

to get back to my friends.”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Who?”

33

“The guy who was stepping all over your feet,” he said.

“Oh Mark, no, he is just a friend.”

“That man wants you. The way he was holding you. The way

he looked at me when I interrupted the dance.”

“You’re wrong; we are just friends, co-workers. We all came

out tonight because we needed to relax after a stressful week. You are

reading too much into it.”

Iris watched as Hunter just shrugged his shoulders and

continued to drink his beer, watching as he pressed the bottle to his

lips and then as the cold liquid made its way down. The man was just

so sexy, it was maddening. From his full lips to his gray eyes to those

hands that easily guided her all through the intricate dance steps. She

wanted to feel those hands all over her body, sans clothing, guiding her

to orgasm.

Grabbing the bottle, she quickly took another drink to cool

down. Thinking about his hands, both of them naked, had risen her

temperature, more than the dancing had.

“All done,” he said standing up, extending his hand to her

again, “let’s go for another spin.”

34

Iris didn’t bother finishing hers. Not when the chance of being

in his arms again was presented. She forgot all about her friends and

followed him.

***

Since the moment Hunter spotted her dancing, he was

captivated. He knew that she would be in his arms by the end of the

night. Leading her back to the dance floor, he pulled her close and

began moving to the music. He spotted Mark, and nodded his head at

him, before returning his attention back to Iris. She moved easily and

fluidly wherever he led, her shorter shapely legs keeping up with his

longer stronger ones. Moving his hand from her hips, he easily led her

into three quick twirls before pulling her back into his chest.

Her laughter and gleaming eyes made his cock strain against

his jeans. He needed to get her alone, but she was enjoying herself,

and he didn’t want to take that from her. Song after song they moved

across the dance floor. Slow songs were his favorite because they

were as close as they could get in public without being obscene. But it

was getting harder and harder to hide his massive hard-on.

35

Not being able to hide his desire for her anymore, he

maneuvered her off of the dance floor and into a darkened corner. He

looked into her eyes but didn’t see any resistance, just hunger and

anticipation. His eyes were drawn down to her heaving chest. The

low cut of the shirt giving him a great view of her full creamy breasts.

Growling low in his chest, he closed the small space between them and

brought his face down to hers.

He was finally getting a taste of her luscious, fuckable mouth

that had been tempting him all night long. Pushing her up against the

wall, he expertly moved his lips over hers, waiting for her to open up

to him before delving inside. The mixture of beer and her unique taste

almost brought him down.

He felt her hands wrap around his neck, and felt her move her

legs against him. His hands were busy trying to touch her everywhere

he could reach. She was not making it easy, moving against him,

pulling him closer.

Hunter finally managed to get one of his hands under skirt, his

hand not stopping until he felt her wetness at the apex of her thighs.

The panties were going to be of no use to her after this. The beast in

him awakened.

36

“What color are your panties,” he asked as he pulled his mouth

away.

He saw as Iris slowly opened her eyes, a faraway expression on

her face. She stared up at him, panting, making him go down for

another kiss before he asked her again.

“Red,” she murmured.

“Hmmm…that’s too bad,” he began as his hand tightened on

her panties, “I love red panties.”

“What,” was all she was able to get out as he took the delicate

material and ripped them off with a hard yank. Her gasp was music to

his ears. Putting the ruined panties in his pocket, his hands went back

under the skirt where no more articles of clothing were going to get in

his way.

His hands caressed their way up, he wanted to spread her on a

bed and nibble his way up to her center but that would have to wait for

another day. Instead he concentrated on how soft she felt. How good

she smelled. From her perfume to her arousal, he caught everything.

When his hands finally reached their goal Iris cried out in

pleasure. All he did was run his hands along her slit, teasing her. Her

37

moans increased as his fingers found her clit, all swollen and ready to

burst after a few more touches. She would have to wait a bit more.

“Do you want me? Tell me what you want,” he urged. She

nodded her head, but he needed to hear her say the words. “No, say

the words; I need to know that this is what you want.”

***

Iris couldn’t believe that he was asking her if she wanted him.

She wouldn’t be in this situation is she didn’t.

“You think I would let you rip my panties off and feel me up if

I didn’t want you?” she managed to ask indignantly.

“Baby, I just want to make sure that we are both on the same

page.”

“Yes. I want you to fuck me. Is that clear enough?”

“No,”

Her eyes flared at his answer. “What do you mean no?”

He just smiled at her before continuing, “No, not here. Follow

me.” He removed his hands from under her skirt and grabbed her

hand, pulling her behind him. She had no choice but to follow him.

38

He opened a door that was on the right and pulled her up the

stairs. She tripped once because she was too busy staring at his ass.

Those wranglers never looked better. Opening yet another door, she

found herself on the second floor. Taking in her surroundings this

looked like one of the VIP boxes with the plush sofas and private bar.

With the lights on low, anything could happen up here without anyone

being the wiser. The thought had her muscles spasming and her juices

flowing. Walking to the far wall there was a window that looked

down onto the crowded dance floor.

She felt Hunter come up behind her. He pushed her all the way

to the window looking out.

“Place your hands on the ledge and stick that gorgeous ass

out.” He didn’t wait but instead moved her into position. “Keep your

hands on the ledge, don’t move them,” he whispered in her ear. “I am

going to fuck you like this. With you watching everyone dance

downstairs while I fill you up from behind, your ass pushing against

me begging for more.”

Iris panted in anticipation. His words making her press her

thighs together, trying to keep the moisture from dripping down her

thighs. There was nothing she could say other than to do as he wanted,

39

bending forward hands on the ledge for support. She wanted to turn

around to see what he was doing but the thought of looking down at

the people dancing while he fucked her thrilled her to the bone. So she

simply waited for him to continue.

She felt his hands on her once again, this time pushing the skirt

up until it was all bunched up at her waist. His hands continued to

move up until they cupped her breasts.

Needing to feel

his hands on her naked breasts, she became vocal in her demands.

“Touch me. Pull the shirt and bra out of the way and touch

me.” Hunter obliged her without hesitation. His big hands weighed

her breasts as she moved her ass against his groin, feeling the heavy

erection through the denim. It felt so good but she needed more.

“Play with my nipples,” she commanded. Again he followed

her instructions without hesitation. The pulling and pinching had her

on the verge of orgasm. He must have sensed it too because he

stopped and pulled back.

“Now it’s my turn to play,” was all the warning she got before

she felt the first bite on her butt cheek. She lurched forward but he

pulled her back against his mouth.

40

“Oh, oh,” was all she could get out. No one had ever done that

before!

“Open your eyes Iris don’t close them. I want you to keep your

eyes open no matter what I do.” She nodded her head in

comprehension. He continued to bite and then he would kiss the sting

away. All she could do was hold onto the ledge and look out at the

crowd. Knowing that if they glanced up they could see her thrilled

her. She had always fantasized about having sex in public with the

chance of being caught. This was a fantasy come true.

****

His hands soon came into play. They parted her folds,

becoming wet as they forged their way inside. One of his fingers

began to circle her clit, stroking her as two others surged into her.

Moving against him she groaned as his fingers continued with

their torment. She was close but he always pulled away when she was

about to explode.

“Shhh…baby, almost there. Spread your legs a little more. I

am a big man you have to be very wet so I won’t hurt you.”

41

If that was supposed to calm her it sure as hell didn’t. She was

more excited than ever.

“No, please don’t stop,” she begged as he withdrew his fingers

and stood up. She wanted to turn back to look back at him but he

stopped her.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. Just make sure that you

keeping looking out with those sexy brown eyes.”

Again, she just nodded and held onto the ledge. She was sure

she was going to leave marks on the ledge. Some people wrote their

names, but she was going to leave grooves by the time Hunter got

around to fucking her.

***

Hunter stood behind Iris and took in the sight of her. Her full,

round ass was on display along with her dripping slit. He could no

longer wait. He had been teasing her, but only torturing himself.

Since he first spotted her he wanted nothing more than to strip her

naked and have just like she was now, ready to take him.

Unzipping his jeans he freed himself. Gripping his thick hard

shaft in his hands he pumped himself a couple of times.

42

“Tell me what you want next, baby.”

“You, hard and fast deep inside me, Hunter. No more teasing.”

Standing up behind her he pulled her up a little and began to

rub himself against her ass. Hearing the sounds of pleasure she was

making only made him want her more.

He reached down and fitted himself to her. He heard her hiss

as he began to make his way inside. He went in slowly, letting her

adjust to his size. Inch by inch he felt her heat envelop him. Her wet

pussy clutched him tightly until she was holding all nine inches of

him. Deeply inside her, he threw his head back and just felt. Felt the

soft skin of her hips where his hands were gripping her tight. Felt the

tight pussy that held his member buried deep inside her. Reaching out

he felt her thick curls that reached all the way down to her back.

He must have taken too long because she started moving

against him, her body asking his to start moving. So he began moving

slowly. In. Out. All the way out before making his way back inside

like he had all the time in the world. He wanted to savor the moment

but Iris had other ideas.

43

She began moving more suggestively against him. He also

noticed that she had moved one hand and was stroking her clit.

“Uh-uh, baby. I said both hands on the ledge,” he said as his

hand came down on her ass making her suck in her breathe. “Now be

a good girl and get your hand out of my pussy and do as you are told.”

Hunter gave her another swat just because it felt so good the first time.

He wasn’t disappointed as she clutched him tighter in her excitement

and let out a noisy moan.

Moving, he began to pick up the pace. She had said she

wanted hard and fast and deep. He was more than happy to oblige.

Taking her hips into hands his pace quickened.

“Are you

looking out the window, Iris?”

“Yes,” she croaked out.

“Tell me what you see.”

“People…. everywhere. Sitting, talking, dancing, and

drinking,” she panted, “they have no clue we are up here.”

“And you like that, baby, don’t you? I know because you’re so

fucking wet. You are a naughty girl, aren’t you, baby,” the question

was a rhetorical one that didn’t need a response.

44

They found a rhythm they both liked. Soon the only the sound

was their harsh breathing as their bodies came together hard and fast.

Leaning he covered her body with is own to whisper in her ear.

“I like the idea of all those people out there going about their business

not knowing that I am fucking you as we watch them. They could get

lucky and happen to look up and see us. Would you mind, Iris, if

someone caught us?”

***

Shaking her head no, Iris held on as he continued to thrust

himself inside her. She couldn’t talk. Hell, she could barely think.

She was so close.

“Neither do I. Tell me do you see that poor guy you were

dancing with? No? That’s too bad. He probably thought he was going

to get lucky tonight. But he never had a chance did he, baby,” he

breathed against her ear. His teeth began nibbling on her earlobe.

How the hell could he expect her to think?

“No, he never had a chance. Now shut the hell up and fuck

me,” she growled out.

45

His laughter vibrated through her entire body. It felt so good

she almost cracked another joke but she felt him move.

“Your wish is my command.”

Lifting his body off her hers, she felt his hold tighten before he

let himself go completely. She was lost.

His hands gripped her tighter as his hips slammed harder and

faster into her. This was exactly what she wanted. What she needed.

She concentrated on keeping her hands in front of her for support, all

the while looking out onto the dance floor, feeling the pounding of the

music below.

When she felt one finger brush over her clit, she convulsed,

screaming out her release. It went on and on as Hunter kept thrusting

into her. He had to pull her into his chest, an arm around her waist

because she just couldn’t keep her hands out in front of her any longer.

Hunter simply pressed her against him, his arm anchoring her

to him. Then he surprised her by pressing her against the window, her

breasts squished against the glass, with him still moving inside her.

The combination of the cold glass and his fingers still playing with her

46

clit brought on another orgasm. Stronger than the last she let it wash

through her, loosing what little sense she had left.

Hunter felt his orgasm roar through him after her second

release. Man, the woman was a screamer. He was lucky the music

was pounding away downstairs. If not, they would have a lot of

explaining to do.

His legs buckled a little, but he kept them standing against the

window, now the only thing holding them up. Bringing his forehead

to rest on her neck he took a couple of deep breathes to compose

himself.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he managed to say his voice dry and

raspy.

“Mmmmm,” was the only sound Iris made. Hugging her

tighter to him he just laughed.

Having his strength return he slipped out of her amidst her

protests and carried her to the nearby sofa. Leaning back into the

plush seats, he arranged her to his pleasure. With Iris straddling his

hips so that he could kiss his wife. Slow and long his kiss conveyed

47

all the love he felt for the woman in his arms. She was a frisky little

thing that always had him on his toes.

Breaking the kiss they stared at each other. Her sexy brown

eyes smiling into his warm grey ones.

“Thank you for my birthday present,” she whispered against

his lips, “it was exactly what I wanted.”

When she had approached him about having sex in public he

flat out refused her request. But she had a way about her that brought

him around and so they forged a comprise. He talked to his friend, the

owner of the club and arranged to use this room. Everything had been

going according to plan until she started dancing with that guy.

“Dancing with that guy was not part of the plan.” He couldn’t

keep the anger from his voice.

“I improvised a little,” she laughed.

“Improvised, huh? Maybe I should improvise and give you a

spanking for your little stunt.” His hands squeezing her buttocks as he

spoke making her squirm against him.

“Maybe we will do that for your birthday.”

48

Well damn, it was seven months until his birthday. Way too

long to wait. He soon forgot about his birthday as she began to ride

him, mimicking the lyrics blaring through the speakers downstairs.

49

D

OUBLE

U

P

BY

S

HARA

A

ZOD

50

Double Up

~What She Intended~

Dréa smiled as she quickly donned the apron that covered her

white top. The button-down white cotton was a little see-through,

showing the red lace push up bra just a little. Her black skirt was a

little too tight, a little too short. She only wished she could wear heels

to complete the effect, but the late night shift at Greenman's Groceries

was not the place to wear heels. She had an eight hour shift ahead of

her, there was no way in hell she was going to kill her feet.

She was just glad all her efforts hadn’t gone to waste.

Dillon McGreever, night manager and all around hunk would

be working tonight. In fact, from twelve until knock off at five, they

would be completely alone. Dréa planned to use that time to flirt her

nicely rounded ass off.

Not that anything would come of it. Nothing ever did. That

wouldn’t stop her though. There was only one thing she loved more

about working the overnight shift than flirting with Dillon. That was

flirting with the other night manager, Josh Stanton.

Greenman’s was a tiny store, but it sure as hell boasted some

fine looking management types. Dréa had applied for the job working

51

nights after going back to school full time. It was the perfect solution

to having a full time job and going to school during the day. She was

pleasantly surprised when she met the men she would be working

with.

Both Josh and Dillon worked part time. Both were

heartbreakingly hunky. Josh was the tall All-American quarterback

type, all muscles and the tightest bun she had ever seen on a white guy.

He had blonde locks and baby blue eyes. He was not the type of guy

one saw strolling down the street with a black chick on his arm, but

that didn’t stop Dréa from teasing and flirting. She loved they way he

blushed at her not so subtle innuendos. She didn’t buy his “Aw,

shucks” shyness act for a minute. There was always a wicked gleam in

his eyes whenever she started in on him.

Dillon was every bit as sexy, but in a dark, brooding way. His

blue-gray eyes always held a hint of something sinful in their depths.

His lips made a woman think of all kinds of nasty things she could do

with them. He wasn’t as tall as Josh, but then Josh was NBA tall, but

he towered over her with all those thick, capable looking muscles.

Dillon never said much, but man, those looks he gave her could start a

nuclear meltdown. With him, words seemed to fail her, so Dréa used

52

her body. A brush of her breasts against his back, bending over so her

behind was high in the air knowing full well he was looking. She could

feel his eyes. Nothing was ever said, or even hinted - just this light

physical teasing, which Dréa excelled at.

She wasn’t a loose woman. Until a year ago, she had been in a

steady relationship she had believed was headed toward marriage. Too

bad Miguel couldn’t keep it in his pants. It was really the only sexual

relationship she had ever had. Now, she was sowing her oats, so to

speak. Just a little flirting with two extremely attractive men she would

never act on. Despite all her flirtations, she was, at heart, a chicken

when it came to men. Miguel had been her boyfriend since she was a

senior in high school. Eight years had come and gone, and though she

wished she had to nerve to go out there and have a little fling, she

didn’t have a clue where to begin.

So she would flirt. She would sashay, bat her eyes, and banter

her heart out. After all, Josh and Dillon were so far out of her league,

they would never take her up on her unspoken invitation.

53

~What They Had Planned~

“Looks like our Dréa is early tonight,” Josh grinned as he

watched the woman in question put on one of the butt ugly green

aprons with Greenman’s in bright orange letters across the chest.

It was a damn shame covering up what had to be the world’s

most perfect breasts. They were truly a miracle, nice and full and

round. They would overflow a man’s hands, but not too much. They

were all natural too. He could tell by the way they bounced and

swayed, practically taunting him with their lusciousness.

“I’m not so sure about this,” Dillon frowned, though Josh noted

Dillon had to shift his crotch area as he observed Dréa readying for

work.

“Well, you can go home,” Josh offered, “and leave her all to

me.”

He knew good and well there was no way in hell Dillon was

going to back out. They both wanted her too much. They had been

planning this for a few weeks now. Dréa was attracted to them both,

which was perfect because Dillon and Josh shared just about

everything. Since they were roommates as freshmen in college, they

were inseparable. It seemed as if one man completed the other. As the

54

years went by, they became more and more dependent on the other

until there was no space between them.

Many of their friends thought they were gay. They weren’t.

They weren’t even bisexual. What had begun as just a “thing” had

become a way of life. And now, they were looking for someone to

share that bond.

The chemistry with Dréa Wilson had been palpable. The

vivacious little woman spoke to them both on a level that went far

beyond physical attraction. Despite all her flirting, Dréa was lonely

and sad. Both Dillon and Josh wanted to make sure she was never

lonely again, and they both would fight to make sure she was happy

every day of her life.

She had no idea what a can of worms she had opened when she

had decided to start flirting with them both three months ago. They

had decided to take the vixen up on her offer - tonight.

“You have to be out of your mind if you think I’m going to

leave you alone with Dréa with a hard dick and evil intentions,” Dillon

snorted.

55

“Yeah, like you’re dick isn’t just as hard.” Josh did have shift

his package a bit. Dréa was bending over to tie her shoes. “Man, I

don’t think I can wait until midnight.”

“You know the plan,” Dillon warned, pushing Josh back away

from the door. “She thinks it’s just the two of us. The store closes at

ten, wait here a couple of hours while we start stocking as usual. I’ll

come back here to get the boxes of fresh fruits and vegetables and give

you the sign when everything is all set.”

Josh had no choice but to wait. It was five to ten now. Two

hours, and it was go time.

~Walking Dreams~

Dréa hummed as she rearranged the older fruits and vegetables

to the front of their bins. Dillon had better hurry up with the new

delivery before the sprinklers came on. Mr. Greenman liked to have

the new vegetables watered along with the older ones. He claimed it

took off the excess dirt that might be left on them.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

Dréa jumped as Dillon’s arms came around her, helping her to

move the peaches up in the bin. His front pressed against her back,

something suspiciously hard poking her back. He acted as though there

56

was nothing out of the ordinary, but she could have sworn he was

pressing just a bit. Not that she minded. It was kind of thrilling to have

him so close. Usually, she was the one rubbing against him. Tonight it

seemed as though Dillon was taking any excuse to touch her. It was so

out of the ordinary, but Dréa wasn’t about to complain. This night

would fuel many hot fantasies for nights to come.

“That apron looks a little uncomfortable. Maybe you should

take it off.”

Dillon’s voice seemed to have dropped a couple of octaves. He

was practically purring right in her ear. It took a minute for the

meaning of the words to sink in’ she was too busy basking in the deep,

sexy rumble. By the time she realized what he’d said; he had untied

the apron and was lifting it over her head. Uncomfortable? Geez, that

wasn’t very original, but damned if her panties didn’t get wet.

He wouldn’t let her turn around. He kept her caged against the

peach bin, his arms brushing against the sides of her breasts. It was

getting hard to breathe. He was so close. She could smell the light

spicy scent of his aftershave. He always smelled so good!

“I’m hungry,” Dillon murmured.

57

Dréa was about to suggest he take a break, thinking it would be

for the best because there was no way she could get the fruits and

vegetables stocked before the sprinklers came on.

But her voice wouldn’t work.

Dillon started biting on her neck.

Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine anything like

this happening! Okay, so that wasn’t technically true. She had had

some pretty raunchy dreams featuring Dillon, but they usually featured

Josh too. Despite the electric shock running down her back, there was

a vague feeling she was cheating on Josh. Until Dillon cupped her

breasts - then all coherent thought flew right out the window.

Dréa moaned, falling back against Dillon’s hard frame. His

hands were like magic, kneading the soft flesh just right, then rolling

her nipples through her shirt. Damn shirt! How dare it get between her

and the hottest thing that had ever happened to her?

“I think you like that, don’t you?” Dillon breathed, tugging her

ear lobe with his teeth. “Your breathing is getting heavy, sweetheart.

These lovely nipples are all hard. I think they are struggling to be free,

don’t you?” Dréa could only nod like a dummy, watching long, tan

fingers undo her shirt, one button at a time. “Ummm, did you wear that

58

naughty red bra just for me? It looks so good against your chocolate

skin!” He pinched her nipples again, making her clit jump. “Look at

those nipples! I can’t wait to taste them. I bet your pussy looks even

better, doesn’t it?” Why the hell was she nodding? “Is it wet for me,

baby?”

She held her breath as his hands began to move slowly down

her body. She didn’t bother trying to press her legs together. She

wanted this, needed it. Deep down, she had wished this day would

come. It was blowing her mind that Dillon would feel the same way.

Her pent up breath came out in a rush when his thick finger

pressed lightly against her panties. Just that small little pressure, so

damn sweet!

“Unh!” She panted, seeking to increase the pressure.

Dillon didn’t disappoint. Using two fingers, he pressed against

her clit, rocking back and forth to create delightful friction. Not

enough, but damn that felt so good!

“I’m going to taste you there, too.” Oh, he had better! “I bet

you taste so good.”

She might come just from his words. If her brain had been

working, she might have told him to get to it, but all she could do was

59

feel. She wanted him underneath the cursed fabric. She wanted his

hands all over her body.

Tomorrow she might regret. She might look back on tonight

and want to kick herself in the ass. None of that mattered now. All that

mattered was her, Dillon, and the orgasms he was implicitly

promising.

“Please, Dillon!” Funny, Miguel had never gotten her this hot.

She was ready to blow with the least little provocation.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you what you need. We have all

night,” Dillon promised, his hands moving up to rub her stomach.

Damn it! That’s not where she wanted him!

“I see you started without me. Damn it, Dillon, couldn’t you

wait?”

Dréa’s world came to a crashing halt. No way! There was just

no way her dreams had suddenly turned into reality!

But as Dillon reluctantly took a step back, allowing her to turn

around, she saw that those nighttime desires had indeed seeped into

her reality. Standing right behind them was Josh, and he looked more

than ready to join in.

~All Coming Together~

60

Dillon could have kicked Josh. He had hoped to talk to Dréa

first, to explain things to her before Josh came out. He had told his

buddy to wait twenty minutes or so. Leave it to Josh to be so damned

impatient.

“Dréa, honey -” What? What could he say to make her

understand? She would probably run screaming out of the store now,

thinking they were a couple of freaks.

“What?” She surprised him by turning her stunned eyes from

Josh to him, waiting for him to say something.

“It isn’t what it looks like.” That sounded lame as hell. Didn’t

guys caught cheating say that?

“It isn’t?”

She sounded disappointed. Or maybe it was just wishful

thinking.

“Hell yes, it is,” Josh chose the wrong time to speak up,

stepping forward.

“Damn it, Josh, let me talk to her!” Okay, he had to get it

together and find the right words. “See, honey, we have wanted you

for some time now…” Maybe that wasn’t the right route. “You are one

hell of a woman. Smart and funny -”

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“And sexy as hell!”

“Damn it, Josh!”

“That’s okay,” Dréa “I would like to hear how sexy I am.”

She sent Josh a siren’s smile that went straight to Dillon’s

cock. Josh’s too apparently, given that log he was sporting. Man, he

wanted this woman something bad!

“What I was saying,” Dillon tried to get things back in hand,

“was that Josh and I, we kind of do everything together.”

“Everything?” Her incredibly sexy brown eyes got all round

and guileless, they way they always did when she was teasing. The

imp. She even had the audacity to lick those succulent lips of hers.

“Aw, baby I love it when you do that,” Josh moaned, taking

Dréa in his arms and descending on her lips like a conquering hero.

It was unbelievably hot watching them. Josh caressed her lips

with his own, coaxing them open. Dréa let out a little whimper of

surrender, letting his tongue inside while her body melting against

Josh’s much larger one. Josh was holding her up in both arms, his

hands holding her hips in line with his own. Dréa, bless her, lifted her

legs, wrapping them around Josh while her hands twined around his

neck.

62

Geez, she was so petite, Josh held her to him with ease.

Dillon’s dick throbbed painfully in his jeans. He didn’t want to stop

this, but he had to. He couldn’t let things get out of hand before Dréa

was completely clear. He and Josh weren’t after a late night fling. This

had been a decision made over the months they had known Dréa. What

they wanted was a permanent third.

“Josh, come on, man,” Dillon groaned when the passionate kiss

the two were locked in had graduated into intense grinding. As much

as he appreciated the show, he would much rather join in than let his

best friend have all the fun.

Finally, with a grunt and a lingering lip lock, Josh finally let

their prize slid down Josh’s tall frame. The swelling in Josh’s crotch

had increased noticeably. Yeah, Dillon knew the feeling.

“Dréa, sweetheart, we should really talk first,” Josh was

reluctant to break the mood, especially seeing as how he started it. He

had lost his head. Damn, but she looked sexy as hell, her eyes all

dazed, her mouth swollen from Josh’s kisses. Her shirt was hanging

open, her nipples peaking through the red lace. Dillon licked his lips in

anticipation. He needed to taste those nipples. They deserved to be free

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of the lace choking them. They needed to be in his mouth. But first

things first…

“You have to be kidding me!” Dréa didn’t shout, she doubted

her voice would go up that high, but she was aghast. The man had just

stroked her to a fever pitch, molding her breasts like they were fine

clay and he was a master sculptor-and now he wanted to talk? “I have

dreamt of this for I don’t know how many times and you want to talk it

out? Well, that’s really sweet, Dill, and I appreciate it and all. But right

now, talking is not exactly on the top of my list of things to do.”

Dillon’s eyes grew round and wide at that little statement. She

dreamed of them? Oh hell yes!

“You tell him, sweetheart,” Josh murmured his approval,

sucking along her neck.

Hell, even if she wanted to she couldn’t pay close attention to

whatever Dillon wanted to say. Not with Josh’s hand sneaking up her

skirt and his lips traveling over one of her “hot spots”, her neck. It

might have been a little cool in fresh foods section, but Dréa felt like

she was about to spontaneously combust. Okay, not so spontaneously.

There was definitely a reason for her inner inferno.

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“Look,” Dillon ran a frustrated hand through his dark locks.

She loved it when he did that. “We need you to understand this isn’t

just about tonight.”

“Uh huh,” Dréa breathed, her head falling back against Josh.

“Dréa?” It took Dillon a little while before he noticed where

Josh’s hand was.

Right between Dréa’s legs. Dillon just stared, his mouth

watering, as the outline of Josh’s hand moved back and forth. He

couldn’t see his friend’s finger’s disappearing into the pussy he wanted

so badly to be inside, to taste, to do exactly what Josh was doing now,

but he could imagine it.

“Fuck, she’s so tight around my fingers!” Josh exclaimed, his

voice raw with passion. “So damn hot.”

This was something Dillon knew to be true. Although he

hadn’t touched her bare flesh, he had felt her wet heat through the

barely there scrap of panties she had on.

“Dréa?” Dillon asked again. Please answer me, baby. He really

wanted to be over there with them.

“Yes, Dillon,” she moaned. “Yes, to tonight. Yes, to tomorrow.

Yes, to whatever you were asking.

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That was good enough for him - at least for now. It took two

strides and his hands were filled with her abundant breasts. His mouth

wouldn’t wait another second. He cupped them together, pushing the

fabric of her bra down so it wouldn’t get in his way and took both rock

hard nubbins into his mouth.

“Ummm.” It was all Dillon could manage. They were just to

delectable.

Josh increased the speed of his fingers moving in and out of

Dréa’s wet pussy. Watching Dillon feast was making him hungry, but

first he wanted to see her come. He could feel little tremors against his

fingers, she was close.

“Come for us, Dréa,” Josh encouraged. “Let us see how hot we

make you.”

She was so close! Just at little more…

Dréa skirted along the edge of the precipice, but she was

unable to go over. She wasn’t sure what she was missing. There was

something just outside her reach, something she needed so bad she

could taste it.

Then Josh pinched her clit, hard, just Dillon’s teeth clamped on

to her nipple. The sharp pain combined with the near blinding pleasure

66

sent her careening. Her muscles locked even as her body shook,

coming so hard she was panting for breath.

“That has to be the most beautiful sight I have ever seen!” Josh

rasped in her ear.

Dréa watched in rapt awe as Josh brought his sodden fingers to

his mouth, licking up every drop of her essence.

“So good,” he crooned before turning her with gentle, yet firm

hands. “Put your hands on the side of the bin,” he ordered, bending her

over. “Now, spread your legs wide. Yeah, just like that.”

She was spread like a Thanksgiving Feast, her skirt up above

her hips, her shirt wide open, her bra pushed underneath her breasts so

that they were still supported - pushed upward as if in offering, and

who the hell knew where her panties had gone. She didn’t even

remember them being removed. Her body was awash with a myriad of

sensual sensations; Josh’s hands were caressing her back, her ass…But

where was Dillon?

Then she felt it. One long, torturous lick against her most

sensitive flesh, followed by a gentle suckling on her clit. Oh, yes!

There he was. She started to reach down to grab his hair, to pull him

closer, but one swift spank on her ass stopped her in her tracks.

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“Keep your hands where they are,” Josh growled, licking then

biting at her neck. “Or I’m going to have to punish you.”

Damn, she was gorgeous! Josh moved behind her, cupping her

breasts. So full, so soft. He rolled her nipples between his thumb and

forefinger, loving the way her hips jerked back against his steel hard

cock. He could here Dillon loudly feasting, and for the first time ever,

he was jealous of his friend. He wanted that juicy pussy in his mouth.

He wanted her cum to wash down his throat. And soon, he would have

exactly that.

“Does it feel good, Dréa? Do you like Dillon eating up that

pretty pussy?” Josh grunted, grinding his jean encased dick into her

round ass cheeks. “Tell me.”

“So good,” she whimpered, pushing back against him. “He’s

fucking me with his tongue! Oh shit, that feels so damn good!”

“Do you want something bigger? Something harder?” Josh

wanted to howl at the loss of her ass pushing against him, but he had to

free himself. He couldn’t live another minute without being buried

deep inside her.

It took less than a minute to get his dick out and encased in a

condom. Dillon would be a little pissed about being short changed, but

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Josh couldn’t wait. Ignoring his friend’s growl, Josh positioned

himself at Dréa’s wet and ready opening, using her breasts as an

anchor he gave her fair warning.

“Are you ready for me, baby? I need to fuck you, Dréa; I need

to be inside you now!”

“Yes, Josh! Please?”

Dréa’s breath caught in her throat as Josh plunged deep inside

her. With Dillon’s lips locked against her clit, his tongue flicking back

and forth tormenting the sensitive nubbin, she exploded. Spots danced

in front of her open eyes. A shrieking wail was the only coherent

sound she could utter. Surely this much bliss could kill a person!

“Oh fuck yeah, baby!” Josh growled. “You pussy is vibrating

all over my dick.”

Dillon was addicted. Dréa tasted like sweet honey and wine,

with just a touch of rare exotic spices. Surely he couldn’t live without

tasting her elixir at least once a day, possibly more. He licked at her

clit, bit it, sucked on it, feeling her body tremble as Josh drove into her

honey pot with fierce abandon. Her cries were like music to his ears.

He had to lean back to look.

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Damn that was beautiful! Her nether lips parted, accepting

Josh’s massive tool, her juices coating the latex. Soon her would feel

her tight walls surrounding his own. Just a little while longer. Both he

and Josh needed her wild with passion for what would come next.

Dillon rose to his feet in between Dréa and the peach bin,

drinking in the sight of her. Twining his fingers into her hair, he

brought her lips to his own, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. His

hand reached down to tweak her clit, rubbing until her body was

shaking with release. He kept his eyes open, taking every nuance that

flittered across her face.

Josh stilled, reveling in the spasms of her walls against his

throbbing shaft. He wasn’t about to come, not yet. Only when the

waves of her most recent orgasm subsided did he move, slipping from

her tight cocoon.

Dillon moved into place without missing a beat. He grasped

one leg, placing it around his waist and slid inside, swallowing Dréa’s

gasp with a deep kiss. Josh parted the cheeks of her ass. Coating her

rosette with her own juices. Ever so slowly he slid one finger inside,

probing, lubricating, readying her for what was to come next.

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“Have you ever done this before?” he whispered, his heart

pounding against his ribcage.

“Not with a person,” she admitted softly, her head rolling back

against his shoulder.

Ah, the vision that inspired! Josh took her lips, unable to go

another second without doing so. “Can you take it here? Can we fill

you the way you need to be filled?”

He was terrified she might answer, and more petrified she

might not. Even Dillon paused, waiting for his answer. Josh knew all

too well the effort it must have cost, having so recently been inside the

most wondrous he’d ever known. He knew small little vibrations were

caressing Dillon’s dick right this second. It must have taken a

Herculean effort not to move.

“Yes,” she more breathed the words than said them. “I can, I

want. I have wanted for so long.”

With a tortured groan Dillon thrust forward, unable to stand

another second. Holding tight to her hips, he pistoned inside, just a few

more strokes until she was screaming in pleasure, her hands

abandoning the peach bin, her nails digging into the flesh of his

71

shoulders. He concentrated on the pain of those nails, anything to keep

from coming.

Josh moved into place, careful to lube himself well. Grateful

for Dillon holding open her cheeks for him, he moved with patience he

didn’t have and slid inside. Dréa, bless her, stayed perfectly still,

relaxing her muscles for his entry.

She was so full! Dréa had dreamed. Fantasized, but she had

never felt so exquisitely complete. They moved in tandem, one moving

out, while the other moved in, both whispering the naughtiest things to

drive her higher than their coordinated movements already were. It

was impossible not to fall apart, over and over again. She lost count of

how many times she flew over the edge, each time more explosive,

more fantastic than the last. She was hoarse from the zealous cries they

engendered.

“So tight,” Josh moaned behind her. “So good! I’m going to

explode, baby. You’re making me come!”

“Fuck yes!” Dillon growled. “Just like that! Take me, baby!”

The final detonation was unreal, seeming to burst from the

inside out. Dréa screamed, her body wracked in quakes. The sprinkler

system sputtered on at the exact moment her inner fire blossomed into

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a raging inferno. It did little to cool her. She heard Dillon’s shout,

Josh’s deep groan, from somewhere outside herself. Her body was no

longer her own, but theirs. She was drowning into a deep abyss of

feelings, floating in the ether. Her final thought before she gave into

the yawning blackness that beckoned was what the hell had took them

so long to do this?

~The Aftermath~

Dréa didn’t want to open her eyes. Her body was deliciously

sore, vibrations from Josh and Dillon’s lovemaking still lingering in

her very bones.

“Hey, there sleepyhead. Ready to go home?”

She stretched, smiling as Josh leaned down to kiss her brow.

“Have to finish stocking,” she moaned. “Mr. Greenman will be

pissed if nothing is done.”

“Already done,” Josh informed her. “We finished while you

slept. Even hosed off the fruit and vegetables. It’s four-thirty.”

Dréa sprang upright. “Four-thirty! Shit! I gotta get dressed

before someone-”

Josh cut her off with a deep, soul shattering kiss. Their tongues

met, entwined and lingered, reluctant to let go.

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“None of that without me.”

Dréa blinked as Josh moved back with a rueful grin. They

wanted more? Her mind could barely process it.

“Josh will take you home,” Dillon informed her. “I’ll stay until

the morning crew gets here.”

Okay, so maybe they didn’t want more. She wasn’t going to

complain, no matter how much it hurt. She would always remember

this night, and how for once she let go and lived her wildest fantasies.

Dillon approached the small cot that had been placed in the

manager’s office. They must have carried her in here when she passed

out. Cupping her chin, he lifted her face to meet his heated gaze. Damn

he was hot!

“I meant what I said last night, Dréa.” What had he said? She

couldn’t remember. “This wasn’t a onetime thing. Not for us.”

“By taking you home,” Josh joined in, “we mean to our home.

And not just for today either.”

Dréa’s heart did summersaults in her chest. She had never

expected this. Sure she vaguely remembered Dillon saying something

about it last night, but that had been in the heat of the moment, hadn’t

it?

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“Seriously? I mean, for real?” This kind of thing just didn’t

happen in real life. Maybe in her dreams, but not in reality.

“We would love nothing more than to spend forever making

you happy,” Dillon murmured, brushing her cheek in a light touch of

lips. “Are you game?”

“Hell yes!” There was no way she was passing this up! “And

you can start by getting me some grape Powerade. I have a feeling I’m

gonna need my electrolytes!”

The End?

75

O

RIGINAL

G

ANGSTA

D

ADDY

BY

J

EANIE

J

OHNSON

&

J

AYHA

L

EIGH

76

Original Gangsta Daddy

Levi “Cadillac” Garrison was an enigma of sorts - one that

most people never solved, and didn’t bother trying to for that matter.

Despite being damn near thirty years old, he’d barely solved the riddle

himself. Taking a careful sip of his piping hot black coffee, he slowly

put the cup down on the table wondering when the hell he’d started

being careful. He was a young man and here he was being cautious

about how he sipped his coffee. Though he faced the forest, he didn’t

pause to appreciate the magnificence of the forest that cloaked not

only his home but most of Delice, Georgia. He didn’t acknowledge

the sturdy scarlet oaks, short-leafed pines, black walnuts, or sweet gum

trees; he didn’t give a second glance to the purple wisteria, the red-

orange crossvines making their way up the trellis or the Carolina

yellow jessamines; he didn’t inhale the exotic scent of the honeysuckle

that sweetened the air. He ignored it all because his mind was back in

the past in the hopping metropolis - Hotlanta.

Granted Atlanta in the 80s didn’t touch what Atlanta now was,

but still anywhere was a metropolis compared to Delice. For that

matter, the parking lot at the Hoggly Woggly after a ball game was a

metropolis compared to Delice. In all honestly, Delice really had no

77

business being a city, as its population was about ten less than a ghost

town. Few people lived in Delice and even fewer outsiders visited it.

Hell, even sunshine was loathe to visit. It didn’t get light outside until

about noon, which is why they had to import it. Delice was so small

that Patrale was referred to as ‘the city’ and Patrale didn’t have a stop

light. It didn’t have a stop sign for that matter.

He was a senior at Morehouse College majoring in physics and

mechanical engineering through the dual degree engineering program

facilitated by the Atlanta University Center Consortium. Though he

wasn’t a huge fan of physics, he was a huge fan of fast things –

primarily women and cars and not necessarily in that order. To tell the

truth, he wasn’t really that big a fan of school as it didn’t provide him

with much of a challenge. The son of a self-taught ‘tinkerer’, he was

born already knowing how to drop a transmission, and spent his youth

learning how to fix everything else. He didn’t need school for that.

Sure school showed you how to fix it with the proper tools and

equipment but need and broke taught you how to MacGyver it. His

daddy had been MacGyver way before Lee David Zlotoff created the

character and Richard Dean Anderson donned a brown leather jacket.

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He didn’t need school to show him how things worked or how

to fix them when they stopped working, as things inevitably did. He

needed school to get him out of Delice, Georgia. It’d only taken him

twelve years to figure that out, which is part of the reason he’d done so

well in school. The rest of the reason he’d done so well in school was

because his daddy had flat out told him that he was going to do well in

school or his ass was going to be missing some skin. It’d only taken

him one metaphorical trip to the woodshed to understand that his

daddy meant business. It was a metaphorical trip because he didn’t

make it two inches from where he’d fucked up much less all the way

to the woodshed before his daddy had him wondering if his momma

was going to have to don a black dress and participate in some slow-

walking and sad-singing.

He applied to two schools: Clark College and Morehouse

College. He didn’t give a damn about their academic programs; he

simply cared that they were not in Delice. He’d been accepted at both

colleges; he’d opted to attend Morehouse, which was a good thing as

his daddy had told him that’s where he was going. There was simply

something about their promise of returning the sons that parents sent to

them as men that his daddy had liked. There was something about

79

those women at Spelman College that he liked. There was also

something about the women at Atlanta University, Clark College,

Emory, Georgia State, Morris Brown, Oglethorpe, and Savannah

College of Art and Design that he liked. Oh, and they liked him back.

Not a vain man, but a truthful one, he’d known he was a good-

looking man - because the women had told him so. Years of farm

work had given him the body to go with his 6’5” frame. Most people

said he had a build like a Mack truck, yet the women insisted on

calling him “Cadillac.” Contrary to the urban legends, he didn’t get

that tag because he drove a Seville or El Dorado; he got that tag

because just like the vehicle, women wanted to ride him. And he’d let

them. He took many a woman for a spin in his red and black 1971

Hemi 'Cuda clone with the 472 Hemi Pistol Grip 4 speed. And he’d

taken many more for a ride on his person. He had so many women

screaming out the name ‘Cadillac’ that GMC should’ve put him on the

payroll.

Those were good times. He’d planned to make Atlanta his

home after graduation being that he had a 17” x 14” piece of paper

from Morehouse and another from Georgia Tech that proved he had

what it took to earn that 25K a year they were paying him. Guilt for

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only having two black engineers in a firm that employed two hundred,

garnered an additional 8K. Life was good back then and it had been

all mapped out. Atlanta was his primary mistress and he’d only leave

it to travel to bigger places: the Big Apple, the City of Angels, the

Windy City.

And then she’d come over to his apartment. He’d called her

‘she’ because quite frankly, he couldn’t remember her name. Even

with his memory, he couldn’t drag her name from his memory banks

although he knew how she’d like to be fucked … knew how she

sounded when she screamed his name during orgasm … knew how she

tasted, how she touched, how she sucked him off. He knew everything

about her … except for her name.

The patter of feet pulled him from his memories. He turned

just in time to watch his princess open the screen door. She was his

everything and then some. He’d never forget her name. Makena. It

was Hawaiian for ‘abundance.’ And she had been nothing but since

that day.

As always, she searched for him when he was not within

eyesight. That small action made him look down at his chest to see if

a capital ‘S’ was painted on it and check his shirt collar for the tell-tell

81

signs of a cape. Spotting him, she smiled. Running across the porch

she threw herself in his arms trusting that he’d catch her. Just like

always, he did. Reaching out, he plucked her from the air and brought

her to his chest even before inertia had a chance to get her to him.

Arranging her so that she was snuggled against his chest, he

shrugged out of the button-down shirt he wore over his t-shirt and

arranged it around her even though he knew she’d complain about

being hot. She could complain, but the shirt was staying around her.

Finished with his task, he hugged her to him and kissed her soundly.

“Love you, Daddy,” she whispered before closing her eyes.

As always, those words slew him. They slew him. Besides his

mother, he’d never had a female say those words to him and mean

them.

“Daddy loves you too, baby,” he said.

He’d never said that to another female (with the exception of

his momma, but his momma wasn’t simply ‘another female’), and

meant it until that day.

***

Watching Makena fall asleep, he thought back about the day

she’d shown up at his door.

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“I have something that belongs to you,” she’d said without

preamble.

Damn right you do, he thought thinking that her pussy

belonged to him. He was busy thinking how he should fuck her –

against the wall, on the floor, of bent over the back of the couch, when

he realized that she was still talking and had something in her hand.

Something that moved … and made noise … and was making more

noise by the second.

He must’ve looked shocked all to hell, and he was. Sure, he’d

slept with her but he’d always, always, always used protection.

Always.

“She’s yours. You were there you know,” she said.

He had been there. Then again, so had his boys, a couple of his

cousins. most of his enemies, and some guys he didn’t even know. He

was so close to saying that when she thrust the fussy baby in his arms.

He was all set to protest the fussy, slobbering baby being this close to

his designer shirt when she opened her eyes and looked at him. There

was instant silence as if both he and the baby were experiencing shock.

It was a stare-down and to this day he was still hard-pressed to say

who’d won. He probably would’ve won hands down but then Makena

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went and smiled at him and it was all over. It didn’t matter whose

sperm had created her; he was her daddy.

Having allowed her to bed down in the guest room, he’d spent

the rest of that evening and most of the wee hours holding Makena.

Shortly after sunrise, she’d walked out looking refreshed and as hot as

ever. Handing him a bottle, she’d spoken the first words since the

night before.

“That’s the first night’s rest I’ve gotten in the last month.”

He didn’t know what to say to that so he said nothing, which

was a good thing because it turned out that she wasn’t finished talking.

“I want five thousand dollars. I tried to do the right thing. I

carried her to term. I had to drop out of college. Even though this is

the eighties, I had to move out to east Bumfuck to save my family any

embarrassment. Now I’ve brought her to you. I’ve done all that I can

do. I want my life back,” she said. “That might make me a bitch, but

that’s the truth. I want my life back. I want my six hours of sleep.

Hell, I’ll settle for two hours of sleep. I want my friends. I want my

education. I want all of my hopes and dreams. I have so many and

she’s not one of them, but she’s yours – maybe.”

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He’d never heard such honesty. He’d been hit by heavy fists,

kicked with steel-toed boots, smashed with beer bottles, but none of

those things had felled him. Yet, here he was being ripped apart by the

truth, being devastated by the proof of his actions. This baby might

not be his, but were there any babies out there that were his? How

many women had to forfeit their lives because men like him used sex

like condiments?

Packing her into his car, he headed to a lawyer who specialized

in family law. Handing over the title to his ‘Cuda along with a

thousand dollars, he watched while she signed the papers giving him

full custody. And finally he was reminded of her name. Her name

was Bless. And she did. She’d blessed him with that baby. He’d

stayed in Atlanta for a full week before resigning his ‘good’ job,

packing up his apartment and heading back to the one place he thought

he’d never go again except to visit. He ran to the safety of Delice.

Nothing came in there that wasn’t supposed to; and nothing escaped if

the inhabitants of the city didn’t wish it so. Having a baby that ‘might’

be his but that he already loved, he definitely needed the seclusion and

protection that Delice offered.

85

Right now he needed the cloak that Delice’s heavy forestation

provided. Makena was his but what if some other man came calling,

claiming she was his? He was too easy to find in Atlanta with his

flashy red car, flashy threads, and flashy lifestyle. In Delice, wearing

faded jeans and plain button downs, driving a 1979 Dodge Ram

pickup, he was practically invisible, and that’s the way he intended for

it to stay.

***

Melodia Lexington was the neighborhood weirdo, and that

was saying something being that the neighborhood she lived in was in

Delice. Delice, along with the ‘towns’ of Patrale and No Trespassing

formed what was not-so-affectionately known as the triad of ‘stay the

fuck away from there.’ Small places, they were not listed on any map

– and that wasn’t by mistake or oversight. Most people thought that

the area was the backwoods area of the nearby town of Azod, which

had the public schools, community college, hospital, post office and

grocery store. But they weren’t Azod and they’d always made that

clear to outsiders.

Consisting of mostly woods, Delice was the area where college

kids dared each other to spend the night in to prove their courage. So

86

far, none had proven it. Ninety-seven percent nothing, there were

many, many secrets hidden up in the woods. And she knew because

she lived in the deepest, densest, darkest part of the woods – the part

where even the citizen (yes, singular, because only one crotchety old

bastard lived there) of No Trespassing refused to visit. No worries

though, because she visited him. No Trespassing was passing strange

but she was right at home with strange.

Yep, there were secrets in them woods and she was one of

those secrets. She was what people would’ve called a habitual felon

… if she’d ever gotten caught. She wasn’t going to get caught though.

Seven years in this business and she made the best moonshine

anywhere in the US (and that included the forty-eight contiguous

states, Alaska, Hawaii, and all of its territories), and she had the

awards to prove it. She also had the cash to prove it. If she’d made

anything else besides hooch, she’d have been a Fortune 500 Company.

But she didn’t make anything else nor was she qualified to make

anything else although she did have that spiffy high school diploma.

She’d been a straight C minus student in every class except for

chemistry. That’d been the only class she showed up for after a while.

The teachers were simply relieved not to have that weird Lexington

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boy in their classroom. She’d been dressing as a boy for so long (even

going by the nickname ‘Mel’ instead of Melodia) that people had

simply forgotten that she was a female. Sometimes she forgot it, too.

But then there were the times when she remembered that she

was female. Those times coincided with what she termed ‘Cadillac

encounters.’ Damn, that man wasn’t like any man that she’d ever

encountered, and considering that she primarily dealt with men that

was saying something. Though built like a freight train, he wasn’t the

biggest male she’d encountered, but he was definitely among the most

dangerous. Cadillac was he kind of man who could out-quiet a mime

and out-stealth a ninja. He was also the kind of man who could out-

danger all of the dangerous things in the woods.

Not that he would, but he definitely could. He might be one of

the most deliberate people she knew (if she actually knew him), but

she’d bet that under all of that deliberation was a core of magma that

he’d unleash if need be. Of course, there wasn’t ever going to be a

need for that kind of violent eruption because everyone made a habit

of steering clear of that man. Steering clear of Cadillac was a practice

right up there with not handling live bubonic plague virus without

protection. Cadillac had that ‘look like you’re going to muck with

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anything that belongs to me and I’ll kill you’ look, so he didn’t have to

really be concerned with anybody mucking with his stuff because she

didn’t know anyone who was trying to die.

He didn’t seem to have a lot of stuff but even if he did, it was

evident that he didn’t value nothing but his baby girl. Makena

Garrison was his whole world … and she knew it. And so did

everyone else. There was hardly a time when that girl wasn’t laughing

and when she wasn’t laughing she was smiling. If she wasn’t smiling

she was asleep. Where Cadillac went; she went - which is why she

went to school in the office of his garage.

While she might be the only five-year old who knew the

difference between a torque wrench and a screwdriver and knew how

to use them both, she didn’t have any friends. All little girls needed

friends. She knew because a long time ago she’d been a little girl.

Hell, a long time ago, she’d been a girl period. She wished Cadillac

would enroll that little baby in school but she wasn’t about to suggest

that because ‘going missing’ wasn’t penciled in on her agenda … ever.

She was pulled from her musings by a deep growl. Stopping,

she perked her ears and after a few minutes heard light footfalls. The

light footfalls didn’t disturb her; what disturbed her was the fact that

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there were any footfalls in this area … full stop. Nothing should’ve

been up here and nothing but her had been up here in years. She didn’t

know what was going on, but she was going to find out. If someone

had opted to seek solace in these woods then odds were he, she or they

were running from something that warranted such a risk. Listening to

her forest, she picked up the sounds of something big – or rather

somethings, plural – making their way up.

She enjoyed her solitude and intended to keep it intact but first

she had to assess the threats to her solitude and decide which threat

warranted her assistance and which threat warranted a little bit of

unpleasantness. As much as she enjoyed her solitude, she despised

terror. No one had a right to terrorize another she thought as she felt

for the copious weapons she had hidden on her person and made her

way north. Feeling the familiar and comfortable weight of the small

arsenal she traveled with, she smiled. Then reaching to her side she

smiled even bigger feeling the solidness of her most effective weapon:

Beast, the two-hundred pound brown and black Mastiff that’d been

hers ever since she commandeered it from the assholes that were

mistreating it.

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Taking a look at Beast’s rigid stance and perked ears, she knew

he was just as pissed as she was about the intrusion. Two quick taps

on his left shoulder sent him off. Though she knew he was near, she

couldn’t see him wherever he’d hidden himself, and that’s what made

Beast such an effective weapon. He was invisible danger. Knowing

that Beast was out there watching her back (and front) she focused on

the footfalls, which were getting louder and closer.

Melodia had seen a lot of shit in her twenty-nine years – a

whole lot of shit. Still, nothing prepared her for what she saw coming

at her. Makena Garrison, Elani Háski and Shani Deonté ran into the

clearing. She didn’t know why they were here, but she knew two

things. First, they were being naughty. There was no way in

anybody’s hell that their daddies would allow them to wander around

unescorted in any woods much less these woods. Second, she was

getting ready to have three frantic daddies up here in a little bit, and

they were going to bring hell with them because ain’t nobody do crazy

like Cadillac Garrison except for maybe Ragnar Deonté and Atall

Háski. Shit. Settling herself, she watched the girls come to a stop.

Normally, she wouldn’t have approached children at all …

much less these children who had parents who were damn particular

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about them (as all parents should be about their offspring). Though

she’d never hurt a child in any way, no one knew that because no one

really knew her. To the good folk who called this area home, she was

simply that strange woman who lived up in the woods, the kind of

woman you kept your kids away from. Hell, she was the kind of

person you kept trained men away from. Still, something big was

coming and damn if she was going to let anything harm these babies.

Being the lesser of two evils, she made her way to them but made sure

to leave a good fifteen feet between them.

“Hello girls, I know that you don’t know me but I’m Mel.

While I don’t know your daddies; I do know your daddies well enough

to know that they would not allow you out here alone. Now I know

you aren’t supposed to talk to strangers and that’s a good rule to go by.

You don’t have to talk to me but you do have to get your hineys over

there while I see to whatever is chasing you. Okay?” she asked using

the most soothing voice she could muster.

“Okay,” all three girls sing-songed.

“Take a seat right there and let’s wait for your daddies who I

guess are chasing you.”

“Kay,” they said again seemingly contrite.

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“You want to tell me why y’all are up here alone?”

“We’re running away.”

Oh goodness, this was definitely going to be a long, long day.

***

The three little girls seated their little bodies close to her on the

fallen log and waited. Mel wondered if she should yell out to the men

that were no doubt scouring the forest for their baby girls but until she

was one-hundred percent sure that those footfalls belonged to said

daddies, she wasn’t saying shit. A few moments later her wondering

became moot as the three daddies suddenly burst into the clearing

breathing hard and looking wild-eyed. They were impressive

specimens. Though physically they were as different as tea and spirits,

they all had that ‘Old Testament kind of vengeance’ look about them.

The platinum blond Atall was the biggest fucking anything she’d ever

seen. He dwarfed the almost seven feet tall Ragnar and the six and a

half foot tall dark chocolate Cadillac. Yes, they were all impressive

but her eyes kept wandering over to the one and only Cadillac

Garrison.

She’d always seen Cadillac from afar except for once. Not

knowing that he’d made the woods his home, she’d stumbled across

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him on her way to town. And she meant literally stumbled and

dammit who wouldn’t stumble seeing all of that beautiful man looking

all tempting. Wearing nothing but some jeans and steel-toed black

work boots, he was using his shirt to wipe the sweat from his sculpted

body. She didn’t want much in life but in that moment she’d wanted

so badly to be that shirt. In a trance, she watched as he ran that shirt

over his face. She wanted to protest that move as Cadillac had the

kind of face that should never be concealed. Short-cropped hair

covered his noble head. He had a thick nose, full lips and a strong jaw.

She watched as the shirt made its way down his thick neck and

over his chest. Cadillac wasn’t as ripped as thinner dudes but he was

heavy with muscle. A solid man, she knew that body could stand up to

just about anything and give a lot of pleasure. And then there were his

arms. Heavy with muscle, it was evident that he did a physical job.

Before she could stop herself she imagined him handling her in lieu of

those engines he worked his magic on.

She hadn’t known that she’d been holding her breath until she

released it from necessity. That small sound had alerted Cadillac to

her presence. The change that overcame him was instantaneous and

frightening. He went from easygoing to deadly in a split second.

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Though she didn’t know Cadillac, from the respectful way that he

treated his momma and the gentle way he treated his baby girl, she

knew that he wasn’t the kind of man to hit a woman. If she’d looked

anything like a woman she wouldn’t have been so damn frightened but

she looked like the man she passed herself off as. Wearing a thermal

shirt under her denim bib overalls and a plaid shirt over that, boots,

and a baseball cap she was sure she was getting ready to be in for a

whole lot of pain. But she didn’t run away. She simply braced herself

for it.

But it never came. Instead, Cadillac and she had engaged in a

stare down of sorts. He stared as if assessing the danger. She stared

assessing him, wondering what it would be like to be the subject of

that stare in the man-woman kind of way. Cadillac shook her. He

made her aware of the female that she kept buried beneath layers of

denim and don’t give a shit.

Swallowing her desire, she tested out her voice and mumbled

her apologies. Cadillac simply nodded his head and watched her. She

took another few seconds and watched him back before going about

her business. After that, she made sure to take the long way around

not wanting to risk catching Cadillac in a bad mood or risk exposing

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her desire for a man who would never look twice at her – even if she’d

looked anything like a woman.

***

When Ragnar Deonté and Atall Háski had stormed into his

garage, almost tearing the entire door from its frame in the process,

Cadillac had been ready for battle. Jumping up, he considered if the

monkey wrench in his hand would do enough damage for him to get to

his rifle. He’d just tightened his grip around the wrench when Ragnar

breathed out words that caused his heart to stop beating in his chest.

His daughter was missing along with theirs. Dammit, he knew he

shouldn’t have enrolled her in school regardless of how right his

momma’s advice was.

Grabbing his rifle, Cadillac was out the door in a hot second.

Having gotten a description on what Deonté and Háski’s daughters

were wearing, he jumped in the truck bed of Háski’s monster truck and

kept his eyes peeled for a flurry of pink that would be Deonté’s

daughter, a pirate hat which would be Háski’s daughter, and a

smattering of cuteness that was his Makena. Cadillac ignored the way

his heart damn near beat out of his chest; instead he focused on

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keeping a hold of the steel sports bar as Háski’s truck ate up the

woods.

He’d been a bit taken aback when the two males had sniffed

him, but quickly settled down when they explained that it was so they

could help pinpoint Makena. Their daughters, they explained were

shifters and therefore could disguise their scent if they so chose. In

turn, he’d had to explain that Makena might not be his biologically.

He waited for their accusations but none came.

Deonté had smiled. “She’ll still smell like you.”

Háski had frowned harder. “If you claim her as your daughter

than she’s your daughter and we need to get our daughters back.”

Later, he’d chew over the reveal that they were shifters, but not

too hard. What he knew about shifters was limited to the male behind

the wheel and the other male standing next to him. Any males that

loved their daughters like he loved his Makena were good men in his

book. And any man who didn’t give a shit about what laws they had

to break to insure the safety of their babies was right up there with the

best.

Even though his daughter and her new friends had left a note

saying that they’d run away, he was still scared. What if some

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unscrupulous bastard with some kind of sick fetish had taken them?

What if they were hurt? What if they were lost? What if he’d been

found out and her ‘real’ father had used this opportunity to snatch her?

His anger came to the surface at that thought. It didn’t matter if she

didn’t have his DNA, Makena was his daughter and that was the way it

was going to stay. As soon as he got Makena back he had a principal,

an assistant principal and an entire school board to beat the shit out of

if his momma wasn’t already doing so. She’d called frantic as hell a

few moments after Deonté and Háski’s arrival. While he’d assured her

that they would find her, the ‘what ifs’ had his adrenaline pumping.

“We’ll find them,” Deonté said.

Something about the way the easygoing man said it instantly

calmed him. Yeah, they would find them. He was still going to have a

whole lot of something to say to the staff at Azod Elementary. How

the hell did three six year olds simply walk the fuck off and no one

know shit? They didn’t even know when they’d gone missing. His

baby could’ve been gone for an hour or three. Makena wasn’t going

back and that was that. He’d go right back to homeschooling her.

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest when Háski

stopped the truck.

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“They’re up ahead somewhere but the truck can’t get in there,”

he said as he jumped from the truck.

“You need a rifle?” Cadillac asked willing to lend the man one

of the two rifles he had on his person.

“Don’t need it,” Háski said.

Cadillac was glad he was in good shape because Deonté and

Háski ate up the forest floor like their lives depended on it. And in a

way, it did because their children were their lives the same as Makena

was his. Hearing his baby girl’s laughter, relief washed over him.

Instead of slowing down, he triple-timed it in the direction of her

voice.

Spotting her, relief poured through him. He’d imagined all

kinds of scenarios, none of which was even close to reality. When he

stumbled into that clearing and found his baby girl sitting quietly

between her two new best friends, he couldn’t be angry (although

she’d get a good telling off for this later and some restriction to match

it).

“Makena!” he yelled as he put his rifle on safety and ran to his

baby girl.

“Daddy!” his angel replied as she jumped up and ran to him.

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He’d never hugged anyone so hard or so desperately.

“Daddy!” Makena’s muffled voice called.

He relented and allowed her to move back a whole inch but no

further.

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically checking her over for

injury.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Don’t ever go anywhere without Daddy ever again. You hear

me, young lady?” his voice was deeper than normal due to the emotion

that threatened to choke him at the thought of losing his baby girl.

Makena must’ve heard the warning in his voice as well as his words

for her eyes widened and her smile slightly dimmed. He never wanted

to be the reason for her to be anything less than happy but he couldn’t

have her putting herself in danger.

“Makena, it is dangerous for you to do such things. Do you

understand me, baby? You could’ve gotten hurt. Someone could have

snatched you. What would daddy do without you, baby?”

“I’m sorry daddy. I didn’t mean to be bad, but I won’t do it

again,” she said as her small hand reached up and patted his cheek.

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Cadillac’s eyes closed at the feel of his daughter gentle touch.

God knows he loved this little girl so much. Hugging her closer, he

thanked God for her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything like this again,” he

pleaded.

“I promise Daddy, but I’ve made friends,” she said.

Looking down into his daughter’s smiling face he wanted to be

angry but he only felt relief. All the anger drained out of him as he

watched her sparkling brown eyes watch him and the smile grow

bigger. In his selfishness to keep her, he’d denied her friends. Seeing

the happiness in her face, Cadillac looked around at her friends. He

smiled to himself as he caught sight of the two other men who were

giving their daughters similar lectures in between hugs.

He outright smiled hearing their daughters’ excuses, which

mirrored Makena’s. From the squirming of the girls, he was sure they

had no idea how badly they’d scared them. They were too busy

holding hands and giggling.

Realizing that his baby was safe, he looked over at the one

person that he didn’t expect to see … anywhere: Melodia Lexington.

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“Thank you,” was all he managed to say past the tightness in

his throat.

Mel simply nodded. He wanted to say more but he had to get

back to hugging his baby girl. Looking at Deonté and Háski, they all

knew that whatever else happened, there was going to be no separating

the girls … not that he wanted to. If Makena was going to be best

friends with anyone he was glad she was best friends with girls who

had daddies who served as warnings to anyone thinking to fuck with

their babies. Feeling someone tugging at his hand, he looked down at

the two girls who claimed to be Makena’s best friends. Kneeling, he

reached out a hand to them. Instead of taking his hand both little girls

snuggled into his arms and introduced themselves.

He’d hugged them back and reveled in the peace of the

moment. ‘Moment’ being the key word because that peace was soon

broken by cussing and the sounds of four-wheelers making their way

through the forest.

“Uh oh,” Deonté and Háski said simultaneously.

“Get the girls, Atall,” Deonté said.

No sooner had he said it then Háski reached down and settled

both girls on his massive shoulders. Thirty seconds later the four-

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wheelers came into view carrying women who looked like they could

cause some serious damage.

“Who are they?” he’d asked.

“Their mommas,” Deonté said.

“Oh,” he answered knowing that the little girls were in for a

good telling off and there was nothing the males were going to be able

to do to prevent it. Aviva and Tia were forces to be reckoned with.

Not only had they told the little girls off and hugged them to near to

death, they’d included Makena in the telling off and hugging.

His little Makena had taken it like a trooper although she’d

turned to him and asked.

“Can they do this?”

Smiling, he’d answered in the affirmative being a believer in

the village raising children although before today he’d never allowed

for that possibility.

“Are you sure?” his Makena asked.

She was too cute and now she was too far away from him

having been snatched up by Aviva and tucked into the truck.

“Ragnar, Atall, y’all take the four-wheelers back. We’ve got

the babies,” Aviva threw at the men.

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Turning to him, she said, “Cadillac get in the truck. You too,

Mel,” she said.

“But,” Mel began.

“Mel, get in the damn truck. I am in no mood to repeat

myself.”

And that is how he found himself at Aviva’s kitchen table

wedged right up next to Mel. His heart began to beat another rhythm

that had nothing to do with panic and a whole helluva lot to do with

what lay behind his zipper. Mel intrigued him. He wasn’t sure why

she insisted on dressing and acting like a man especially when she was

doing such a piss poor job at it. Sure, she might wear men’s clothes

but everything underneath that flannel and denim was all woman. He

was sure that she didn’t know that he knew she was a woman. He

smiled at that. How could anyone think she was anything but a

woman? She had the softest- looking skin … what he could see of it.

And thanks to Aviva snatching that ridiculous cap off of her head he

could see a lot more of it.

The last hour had been an hour of revelations. First and

foremost, little girls giggled a lot and made a lot of noise. Shani

Deonté, Elani Háski and his Makena could have been the entire crowd

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at a ball game they were so loud. Second, no one argued with Aviva

Deonté and won – not even Ragnar Deonté who stood almost a foot

taller than her and outweighed her by about a hundred pounds.

Neither did Atall Háski who towered over Ragnar. And apparently,

neither did he which is why he’d allowed Makena to spend the night at

her new best friend’s house. Scratch that. Her new cousin’s house

being that Aviva and Tia had declared it such. He might’ve protested

but then Deonté and Háski had informed him that once an alpha

female claims a someone as kin, they are part of the pack and thus the

protection of the pack is extended to them. This was said with a head

nod. Translation: anyone fuck with Makena; they fuck with all of us.

That is also why he was driving Deonté’s custom-made four-

wheeler into the deepest part of the woods with night fast approaching.

He couldn’t find it in him to complain though, not when he had one

tempting woman sitting in front of him. Perhaps he should amend

that: one borderline livid, tempting woman. Melodia Lexington was

seething yet instead of being angry, he couldn’t help but be turned the

fuck on.

It’d started when Aviva had snatched her hat away. Though he

didn’t know the woman that well (yet) he suspected she wasn’t mad

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about the hat because she was having a bad hair day as her simple

cornrows were neat. He suspected that she felt exposed without the

hat. And she was. That hat allowed him to glimpse her face in

something besides shadow. It allowed him to see those midnight black

eyes and the emotions that passed through them. He’d spent dinner

watching her eyes. He watched annoyance (at Aviva), exasperation (at

Tia who was simply a smaller version of Aviva and who’d leaked her

given name to him), shyness (at Deonté and Háski complimenting

her), and joy. Still, it was the look in her eyes when his Makena had

settled herself on her lap and hugged her that caused him to almost

lose what little composure he had. Melodia looked like she should be

holding his baby.

After seeing that, he was hooked just like that first time

Makena had opened her beautiful eyes and looked at him. Though his

Makena had instantly liked him (that was his story, he was sticking to

it), something told him that Melodia was going to be difficult. Not

that he minded. He’d always enjoyed a challenge and he couldn’t

think of one that was going to be more delightful to solve. Melodia

Lexington-Garrison had a nice ring to it. Having decided that the

prickly woman was going to be his Mrs., he allowed his attraction for

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her show in his eyes. He smiled witnessing Melodia’s reaction to his

reveal. The pulse at her throat beat harder, her nostrils flared, and she

emitted a shuddering inhale. Though flustered, she stared right back at

him just like she did at their first meeting.

He’d known that she was out there but at that moment when his

Makena was safely ensconced at his momma’s house and he only had

his safety to see to, he didn’t make a move. He’d been too fucking hot

to care that someone dared interrupt his solitude. Taking a moment to

catch his breath, he’d assessed her. He spotted the outline of what was

probably a Marine Corps multi-purpose bayonet in her pockets and the

lump that signaled something more powerful and deadly. He also

spotted breasts and woman’s hips. He might be slow about some

things but women was not one of those things. Before Makena, his

life had been engines and women and as familiar as he was with the

anatomy of the combustible engine, he was more familiar with the

anatomy of the female form. It didn’t matter how well she tried to

hide it; he saw it. He didn’t say anything to her, although he did take

his time wiping the sweat from his body. Something in him had

wanted to see if she’d react to him. She had, still he didn’t press her.

He simply nodded at her mumbled apology and let her go on her way.

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Though he didn’t know why she dressed as a man, he suspected there

was a damn good reason. Now that she was going to be his, later, he’d

find that damn good reason and beat the fucking shit out of it.

For now, though he was content to look at Melodia. And bless

Tia Háski, if she didn’t make the looking at Melodia process more fun

when she insisted on squeezing her two sons on the other side of him

making it necessary for he and Melodia to sit real close. And bless

Aviva for setting her oldest daughter next to Melodia, which meant

that he and Melodia had to sit real, real close.

His ogling of Melodia was interrupted by Halima’s voice.

“I’m Halima Deonte and you’re Melodia Lexington, and

you’re not as weird as people say you are.”

“Thank you,” a startled Melodia replied.

“I bet you’d kick some major butt in a dominance challenge,”

she continued.

“Only if had to, but I prefer to think before I resort to violent

measures,” Melodia said.

“That’s okay, I like you anyway,” the forthright young lady

said.

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Leaning over to Melodia, he spoke softly. “Good to hear,”

Cadillac spoke directly into her ear.

“Why is that good Uncle Cadillac? In the animal kingdom a

female more often than not only needs a male to make offspring. She

does not usually require him to protect her, at least not females in our

family,” Halima said informatively.

“That might be true but tell that to your Daddy, little lady,”

Cadillac smiled.

“Uncle Cadillac, Daddy is the gentlest male I’ve ever seen.

Now momma on the other hand. I’ve never seen anyone meaner,” she

said before tearing into her steak.

Cadillac couldn’t help but laugh outright at that. Deonté might

be more easygoing than Háski but he was one hundred percent

dangerous motherfucker when it came to his females. He was the

same way and Melodia had best learn that. Then again, he’d be quite

happy teaching that to her. Right now he was content with watching

her pick at her food.

“I know you’re not going to pick at my food like it ain’t the

business,” Aviva said.

“I’m eating,” Melodia said exasperated.

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“Well dammit, eat like you mean it. You need some meat on

your bones if Cadillac’s going to be your man.”

Though the last part was mumbled, Cadillac had no problem at

all catching that. Neither did Melodia, who suddenly had to go to the

bathroom. Apparently, he wasn’t as stealth as he thought.

“Don’t look so surprised Cadillac, I can smell how much you

want Melodia and I can smell how much she wants you back. And

before you go and get all bragging bastard, know that if you hurt

Melodia I will castrate you and put your balls on a necklace she can

wear under her flannel shirts,” she whispered for his ears only.

The rest of dinner went smoothly. Melodia ate well enough to

appease Aviva and him. She was going to need her strength because

he was going to be her man.

Though the food was superb, dinner took too long for his

liking. He knew that Melodia needed to head home and he knew that

he was going to take her there … and then take her. Gently at first and

then hard like they both needed.

Finally, Melodia rose. “Thank you for having me,” she said as

she handed out hugs to the women and children and shook the hands

of the men. Neither Deonté nor Háski was having that shaking hands

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shit and neither was he. As soon as she tried it, he wrapped his fingers

around her wrist and held her to him. For a moment, he got lost in her

earthy fragrance. Closing his eyes, he inhaled. He ignored the way

she tried to ignore him along with her attempts to get free. Stepping

forward he ground his cock into her back. Hearing her breath catch

accompanied by her slight moan he smiled. Melodia Lexington was

affected whether she wanted to be or not. As much as he wanted to

press it, he still owed her the chance to tell him hell no. He’d listen to

it and spend the rest of the evening, hell the rest of his life if he had to,

convincing her to say yes … and mean it.

Cadillac kept hold of Melodia’s wrist and asked her.

“I know that you don’t think that I’m just going to let you walk

home in the dark.”

“I’m grown, so I know you don’t think that I’m going to ask

your permission,” she sassed him.

He smiled realizing just how much he liked her sass. Before he

could even form his lips to ask, Deonté tossed him a set of keys.

“Four wheeler’s out back. It’s big enough for both of you.”

Yeah, he definitely liked these shifters.

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Keeping hold of Melodia, he said his byes. He only let go of

her long enough to hug his baby girl and reiterate his instructions.

“Mind Ms. Aviva and Ms. Tia.”

Securing her ‘yes, daddy’ he hugged her once more and

watched her scamper off to play with her new cousins.

“She’s safe here,” Deonté promised. “Even though they live

next door, Atall and his family are staying the night being the girls

gave us all a good scare.”

“Thank you,” he said as he made his way over to a steaming

Melodia.

Taking her hand he led her to the four-wheeler.

“I can ride behind you,” she snapped.

“I don’t think so. I want you in front of me Melodia, where I

know you’re safe.”

Waiting for her to put her helmet on, he put his on and settled

himself behind her. Starting the four-wheeler, he made his way to her

home, glad that Háski had told him how to get there. He smiled

watching Melodia try and put distance between them. Without

missing a beat, he pulled her back to him and ground his cock into her

ass.

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Leaning over, he whispered in her ear.

“I might be all human, but I’m a lot like Deonté and Háski.”

“You turn into an animal?” she whispered back.

“Only in bed,” he said directly into her ear.

They continued their drive in silence. Eventually, she relaxed

against him although he knew she was still peeved. A woman like her

wouldn’t like any man intruding in her life. But he wasn’t any man

and Melodia Lexington damn sure wasn’t any woman. She was his

woman. Pulling up outside the simple cabin, he killed the engine and

dismounted. Standing back, he waited for her to remove her helmet …

and he ducked knowing that she’d throw it at him. Good thing he had

fast reflexes.

“I hate you, Cadillac Garrison!” she said as she stormed into

the house.

Retrieving the helmet, he smiled and headed back.

***

Never in a million years did Melodia think that her day would

go like this. First, she found the three cutest little girls who belonged

to the three baddest males in all of Georgia. Then, Aviva puts all of

her business out there in the street. So what if she wanted Cadillac,

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that didn’t mean that it needed to be a freaking public service

announcement. Damn shifters. Then, they gang up on her and side

with Cadillac about him taking her home, like she didn’t know how to

get there. Damn man. Then he grinds that hot fucking body against

her reminding her that she was a woman reminding her of what she

hadn’t had in so, so long. And now she was here, all stoked up and not

a dick in sight. Sighing, she dragged herself away from the door she’d

been leaning against and went around to the back knowing that Beast

would be there sniffing around making sure all was well. He was the

only male she needed. She said it again trying to convince herself.

Something woke Melodia and it wasn’t that erotic dream that

she was having about Cadillac. Whatever had woken her was about to

be sorry because in her dream she was in the arms of an equally naked

Cadillac whose tongue was thrust in her mouth, whose cock was thrust

in her pussy and his finger in her ass. She was going off like

firecrackers at a Fourth of July celebration and something had

interrupted that dream. And she didn’t appreciate it. One.fucking.bit.

Dragging herself out of bed, she listened for the sound that had

woken her. Beast. Forgoing a bra, she pulled on a cami and a pair of

denim shorts, and stepped into her steel-toed boots (grateful for the

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fact that she always wore socks to bed). Taking another moment to

arm up, she headed outside, glad for Beast’s company, and the

bayonet, the .45, and her friends Fuck and You – the illegal, but

powerful sawed-off shotguns her daddy had given her on her

eighteenth birthday.

Carefully making her way to the cabin that lay two miles from

her own, she stopped about two-hundred yards away knowing that

something wasn’t right but not knowing what. Signaling Beast to take

to the woods to keep him safe, she hid herself in the trees and plotted.

And got a whole lot more pissed off.

***

Cadillac would’ve gone back home but something made him

turn back. He hadn’t gotten more than a mile away when he’d turned

the big four-wheeler and headed back. He’d give her time to gather

herself then he was going to knock on her door and kiss her goodnight

… first on her mouth so that she could go to sleep with his taste on her

lips. Then on her pussy so that he could go to sleep with her taste on

his lips.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Melodia, but he had to. Until she

was ready, he wouldn’t take her like the way they both wanted and

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needed. He couldn’t remember the last time that he wanted a woman.

Actually, he could and it was sometime before Makena had become

his whole world. It was a different feeling wanting a woman so bad

and yet not having his sexual needs satisfied. It was different but not

bad. Melodia wasn’t any other woman and he wouldn’t treat her like

she was.

Knocking on her door, he was surprised when he didn’t get an

answer. Sure, it wasn’t late but it was full night in the densest part of

the forest. Something wasn’t right. Going around to the back, he

knocked and again got no answer. He was all set to kick the door in

when he realized that it was open. Stepping inside he noted the

simplicity of Melodia’s cabin. And he also noted that she’d left it in a

hurry. She had to because he couldn’t imagine a woman as meticulous

as her leaving the door open. Going to the kitchen, he grabbed up a

handful of knives. He was on his way out the door when he was met

by two hundred pounds of angry dog. Standing still to gauge the dog’s

intentions, he was surprised when the dog simply looked at him and

barked.

Okay, though he didn’t know the dog from Adam, he followed

it. He’d travelled at a brisk run for about three minutes when the first

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explosion rocked the air. What the fuck? Picking up his speed he

followed the dog to a cabin hidden deep in the brush. Not knowing

what to expect but knowing that his woman was in there, he followed

the dog through the thickest woods he’d ever encountered and walked

straight into hell. Bullets were flying, bodies were dropping. And his

woman was in the thick of it.

As long as he lived he’d never forget the sight of Melodia

wearing all that fineness and holding all of that danger. Standing in

the spotlight of the blazing fire behind her, she had a bayonet strapped

to each thigh, a .45 tucked in the waistband of her shorts, another

tucked into her right boot, a sawed-off shotgun in each hand, and with

pissed off all on her face, she was the most beautiful fucking thing

he’d ever seen. And when he got her out of this mess, she was going

to get the spanking of her life. How dare she put her life in danger he

wondered as she stepped over three fallen guys? It was a good thing

that they were dead else he’d kill them.

She was outmanned and out-gunned but she had the advantage.

A, the weapons she did have were first rate and she knew how to use

them. B, she had a shitload of moonshine at her disposal and dead-on

aim. He’d watched as she tossed three jugs of moonshine and shot

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them in mid-air turning them into instant molatov cocktails. C, she

had that fucking dog who was going after anything that moved and

fucking it up. He winced seeing the dog trot back with a part of an

arm in its mouth. And d, she had him and he was a pissed off

motherfucker.

“I know you bastards are out there,” she said. “You wanted me

now come and get me.”

“I want you,” he said. “Which is why I’m here and as soon as

we take care of this mess, I’m going to have you. But first, give me

some fire power.”

Catching the .45 she tossed him, he held his hand out for one of

the bayonets. “Get the fuck out of here, Melodia.”

“No,” she said. “I brought these people to this forest and I will

take them out of it.”

He wasn’t surprised that she’d said no but he was good and

pissed. “If you get hurt, I will kill everything up here and keep killing

until I’m satisfied. You got that, Woman?”

“Yeah, but.”

“But nothing,” he said as he dragged her down for a kiss.

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Throwing his knives, he switched to the shine and started

blasting it, sure that he’d set some kind of record for biggest molatav

cocktail.

Though they were holding their own, he didn’t know exactly

what was out there. Turning back to her, he tried once more to get her

to leave.

“Melodia, go.”

“No, these bastards mean business and our friends live in these

woods and I’m not going to allow them to be hurt for something that is

my fault.”

“Your friends do live in these woods, and you should’ve called

us for help,” Deonté‘s voice cut through the night.

As usual, Háski didn’t say anything. He simply growled.

Cadillac didn’t know where they came from nor did he care.

“Give them some firepower, Melodia,” he said.

“We don’t need it,” Háski said as he and Deonté shifted.

While he recognized the polar bear that Deonté shifted into, he did a

double-take at Háski in shifted form. He’d never seen that but he

knew that he didn’t want to fuck with it. Both men were dangerous in

human form. In animal form they were pure predator.

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“What the hell?” Melodia asked.

“I have no idea but I’m sure as shit glad that they’re on our

side.

The fight didn’t last long after that. Not only had a polar bear

shifter and a legendary beast showed up to the fight, they’d brought

along friends. And their friends all belonged to the club of ‘fuck shit

up.’ When they left, the cabin wasn’t standing and neither were any of

the assholes who’d tried to hurt his woman. Clapping them on the

back, they’d pointed him in the opposite direction and instructed him

to take Melodia home. And he did. Bypassing her home, he pointed

that four-wheeler in the direction of his house. Both, filthy from their

unexpected battle, he opened his gun safe and held his hand out for her

weapons.

“Hey,” she said when he took her gun.

“Melodia, give it to me. Makena lives here, too and I’m not

going to leave guns in her reach.

“Yeah, but I don’t live here,” she pouted.

“You do now,” he said as he locked the safe.

He didn’t ask her shit else, he simply frog-marched her to his

bathroom. Though his home was simple, he’d made good use of his

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space and therefore had good-sized rooms. Friends with an

architectural engineer, he had a spacious, if simple master bathroom.

He was never more glad of that when he stepped into that shower

behind Melodia. Taking time to soap her up, he checked her for

injury. Finding none, he sighed. Using his body to keep her where he

wanted he set a new world record for cleaning himself. That done, he

turned to her once more.

“You know that I’m going to spank this ass, don’t you?” he

asked as cupped her ample ass in his large hands.

“You know that I’m not going to simply let you get away with

that, don’t you?” she sassed.

“I do and you don’t know how glad that makes me. I’m

finding that I rather like feisty women,” he said.

“So do I,” she countered.

“No, you don’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw your reaction that first day you saw me. A woman who

likes other women so much wouldn’t have reacted to me that way,” he

whispered into her ear as he slowly stroked her pussy lips. He

couldn’t wait to taste her.

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Catching her moan in his mouth, he stroked her tongue with his

enjoying her flavor. She tasted wild and untamed.

“How did you know that I was a woman?” she asked.

“Because a man doesn’t have breasts like these,” he said as he

sucked one of the dark-tipped nipples into his mouth. “And because a

man doesn’t have hips like these,” he said as he settled his hands there

and drew her softness into the hardness of his body.

“Open wider,” he demanded as he tipped her head back and

kissed his way down the column of her throat.

“Cadillac,” she moaned.

Though her moans sounded good to him, and he liked the way

she said his name, ‘Cadillac’ wasn’t his name. ‘Cadillac’ was simply

the name that all of those other women had called him. Melodia

Lexington would never be those women and he wasn’t that man he’d

been back then.

“Call me Levi,” Melodia. “Sing my given name when I make

love to you,” he said as he added another finger.

“Le-vi,” she complied as she bit her lip and surrendered to the

orgasm he was constructing.

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“Yes, baby, say my name just like that,” he said as he closed

his eyes and thrummed her in time to his own heartbeat.

When she exploded in his arms, he caught her. Withdrawing

his fingers he brought them to his lips and had his first taste of his

woman … but it was not enough. Shutting off the water, he lifted

Melodia from the shower and padded through into his bedroom his

mouth still firmly attached to hers. His footsteps never faltered and in

mere seconds he stood at the foot of his king-sized bed his arms full of

his woman, his body full of passion and his nostrils full of the smell of

Melodia’s exclusive scent. He smiled, knowing that it was a scent that

he had induced. Finally, he pulled his lips from hers and stared down

into her heavy lidded gaze.

“Do you want me, Melodia?”

“Yes, Levi,” she answered sealing her fate.

He lowered her to the bed in a house that only his momma and

daughter had stepped foot in and simply stared at his future. The sight

of Melodia bared for his eyes only shook him. He watched as she

shimmied her body back into the centre of the bed and spread thick

legs showing him exactly what she needed, wanted and hungered for.

It was the same thing that he needed, wanted and hungered for.

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Crawling up on the bed with her, he knelt between her legs.

Dipping his head he slowly stroked her with his tongue. He teased

her, coaxing her clitoris to come out of hiding. Blowing on her, he

smiled feeling her shudder. Latching onto her clit, he sucked eliciting

her moans. Adding his finger to the mix he played her pussy like an

all-star played his sport; he conducted her passion like a maestro.

“Sing for me, Melodia. Sing for me. Let me hear your song,”

he begged.

And when she emitted the first note, he knew that this orgasm

would debut quadruple platinum. Pulling back, he covered her with

his not just his body but with his love and protection. As much as he

wanted to enter her, he stopped. Never had he taken his time with a

woman and he wanted to savor this moment. He wanted to remember

for the rest of his days how he’d felt as he slid into the place created

for him.

Staring into her eyes he was surprised to feel the tears track

down his face. He was humbled to see the tears creep from her eyes.

Leaning down he took her lips and slid home welcoming the feel of

her tightness, savoring the feel of her womanliness, thankful that he

was a man. He stroked in to her in time to the song that the forest

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played. Slow and gentle, like Sunday afternoons; crashing and

fantastic like the Atlantic Ocean; soothing like the balm of Gilead. In

that moment, he knew that this is how he’d go to sleep every night and

how he’d wake up every morning.

***

Cadillac’s mind was pulled back to the present by the creaking

of the screen door. He smiled seeing his Melodia step out. Melodia

was beautiful and it had nothing to do with what she was wearing –

which was next to nothing. It had everything to do with the shy smile

she wore on her face, the look of belonging that danced in her eyes,

and that plain gold band that she wore on her left ring finger that said

she was his. His wife. Opening his arms, he waited for her to throw

herself in them, much like his Makena did. Just as with his baby, he

caught her and held her close to his chest. Kissing the top of her head

he tucked her into his other side and reveled in the feel of having his

family in his arms.

**J and J**

Look for Ragnar and Aviva Deonté’s story in volume 2 of Shara and

Friend’s Naughty Bites and Atall and Tia Háski’s story in volume 3.

Look for Makena Garrison’s story in B.A.D.-Saeran in August 2009.

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Special Thank You~

Thank you so much for purchasing Shara & Friends
Naughty Bites, Volume One. Hope you will join us again
next month!

Shara Azod