by Reana Malori
The chair groaned under Griffin's weight, old springs overdue for a chiropractic adjustment. Propping booted feet on his desk. Truxton remained silent while the wounded warrior positioned one powerful leg over the other.
“I believe I’ll stay.” Of course, no one could make the war relic do a damn thing. Remembering the fallen men and women from his battalion, he smiled every time Griffin took a step. Not many men made a full recovery from the type of shrapnel injury his friend had suffered to his right leg. “And my girl is brilliant enough to snag herself me, a thick cut lover.”
Lover? He’d never met the woman. But, after the horror the soldier had survived, he’d earn the right to concoct any damn fantasy he wanted.
Truxton had visited Griffin often at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland. As an Army medic, he’d had a comfort level with wounds, changing bandages, staying calm when confronted with life, death, and all the stages in between. Griffin's rehabilitation had been a medical marvel. Maybe that’s what had bothered Ty. That her injury had not changed how he looked at her.
“You know that woman could be crazy?”
Settled comfortably, Griffin reared back in his chair, stroking his ginger beard. “Your point?”
Santa had nothing on the forty-four-year-old veteran. Secretly, his friend grew the beard to hide his youthful face. Once, they’d been in a hole-in-the wall Mai Tai Bar off the boardwalk, and a woman with supermodel looks had walked up to him and pinched his cheeks. At the end of the night, she’d gone home with a bruiser in biker shorts. Griffin stopped shaving the next day. Bye bye, baby cheeks.
“I got me, okay.” He scrubbed at his face, wondering if Ty had to put up with this shit from her friends? Did anyone remind her that he was still here... waiting.
“All I’m saying is make a move, Trux.”
“Why?” He threw down the pen in his hand, the pretense of working abandoned. “So, she can make a U-turn? This—” he pointed out the window, “is all we have. She disappeared from all the beach hangouts, quit the softball league, changed her gym, and stopped visiting her parents.”
That bothered the hell out of Truxton. He and Ty had practically grown up in a communal home. The two families were more than next-door neighbors. Their parents still traveled on vacation together. Which made Sunday dinner awkward as fuck when the girl next door dumped his ass with the church and half the state as witnesses.
Tynisha was her own woman. She’d find a way to broach the topic with him when she was ready. He believed that much about her. Before she moved on, it was in her DNA to close the door, tie off the last thread of hope at reconciliation.
“I think the both of you are stuck on stupid. It’s like you want to torture one another. She wants to be seen and...” he breathed, “you want to look.”
“Why don’t you just talk to her and ask why the hell she left you down on bended knee?” he challenged, exasperated.
Truxton shot to his feet. “Because I’m not ready to hear her answer,” he bellowed. “Drop it.”
Ty had been a part of his life since childhood. Literally, it was like she’d been made to love him. Courageous, beautiful, and sexy with a strength few men appreciated in a female warrior. So, if a woman who’d written him love letters during his deployments, ran into his arms on the Tarmac, and cried on his shoulder when he’d taken a bullet could leave him standing alone on the most important day of his life—then yeah, he could wait to hear her explanation. Could wait for the final rejection, to hear the words that what they had shared was never love.
Non-plussed by his outburst, Griffin interlaced his fingers and cupped the back of his head. “Who the fuck you yelling at?”
Truxton threw up his hands. “Y...you, big, insistent fucker.”
“Okay, just asking your emotional ass,” he chuckled, wiping at a make-believe tear. “It’s dropped and squashed.”
With one foot, Truxton kicked the chair away from the desk, creating some space.
“I need some fresh air.”
Pivoting on his heel, he walked out of the office. The sweet tang of citrus and smoked meat greeted him in the cafe. Inhaling, he was just about to check in with the kitchen staff, when, from the corner of his left eye, a hot pink bike with whitewall tires cruised towards him. He cranked his neck left.
That’s when he saw her. His heart rate spiked. Lust gripped his cock, engorging it in a painful chokehold. Dressed in a white sleeveless blouse and denim shorts, Ty looked radiant and fuckable. Bathed in warm sunlight, her terra cotta skin, too much of it on display for this asshole, appeared as a flawless dark velvet canvas. Springy medium-length curls bobbed with the late morning breeze. Sculpted brows framed her deep-set eyes, smoky brown and full of glowing embers. Her body was sculpted arms, tones legs, and a round ass suitable for a cushy ride. If a woman’s body was a man’s playground, Ty could charge admission for all the taut peaks and moist valleys his tongue and hands could explore.
And, cue the N2U fuck boy.
The buffed blond insta-date pedaled beside Ty, on his Smurfette turquoise beach cruiser. Intermittently, he grinned in her direction, and veered his front wheel toward hers.
Damn idiot.
Truxton balled up his fist, quelling the protective instinct to stalk to her rescue.
Turn away.
As if he’d called her name, Tynisha lifted her head and looked at him. Straight through the looking glass, her warm brown orbs found and locked on his. An image of a moth to a flame came to his mind, but he was more like a blind bat following a killer ultrasonic radar. Tynisha Hain would be the death of him. He saw her gaze soften, her lips part. Instantly, he could feel his dick lengthening, a search and seize mission for her. Damn, why did she have to look so fucking hot?
Ty lifted one toned arm, as if to wave, but then the bike handlebars lurched right. Dufus had swerved his wheel into hers, but this time the bikes connected and locked. The clanging of metal hitting metal rang out. Several of the patrons shot their gazes to the commotion. Both bikes listed sideways just before the front wheels connected. Truxton kept his eyes on Ty. That protective instinct, the one that kept him tied to this woman, kicked into high gear. The back wheel of her bike left the ground and Ty’s precarious balance tilted too far left.
The N2U fuck boy screamed louder than a newborn baby who’d just gotten his ass slapped. Like a magnet forced into action, Truxton’s feet were moving in Ty’s direction. Damn it. Guess today he’d get that explanation.
That’s all you get for now. Click below to read all the Lunchtime Chronicle stories here:
The Bento Box by Olivia Gaines
Thick Cut by Siera London
Taste Test by Xyla Turner
The Nooner by Reana Malori
Messy Mandy Presents: Lunchtime Chronicles series
DARK ANGEL (Excerpt)
Reana Malori
Her beauty is the reason he wants her. His darkness is why she stays.
Maxwell Bishop was the man with a plan, and nothing—and no one—would get in the way of what he wanted. Until the day Kiana Moore walked into his life. Her beauty made him pause. Her kindness made him want to claim her. She was supposed to be off-limits. He was supposed to respect boundaries. Pursuing her could bring his perfect world crumbling down around him. In the end, none of that mattered. He wanted her, and he would do whatever it took to have her.
To keep her sanity, and her job, Kiana Moore needed to stay away from Maxwell Bishop. No matter how much she tried to deny her desire for him, she couldn't get him out of her mind. His lips beckoned her closer, teasing her with his sinful smile. His deep voice seduced her with every word he spoke. She had to resist him, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. Her livelihood was at risk. Her reputation could be ruined. Then again, none of that mattered. Maxwell wanted her, and she knew he wouldn't stop until she was his.
When need and desire can no longer be denied, just how far will he go to claim his woman? Maxwell always gets wh
at he wants. He'll let nothing get in the way of convincing Kiana they belong together.
CHAPTER 1
WAKING UP TO THE WARMTH of the sun streaming through his bedroom window, Maxwell Bishop opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a woman’s naked back as she slumbered. Beautiful chestnut-colored skin lay atop his all-white sheets. The sight made him smile.
His lady. His Kiana.
Rubbing one hand down her bareback, he trailed his fingers along her smooth skin until he reached the curve of her hips. Moaning low as his fingers kneaded her soft flesh, he couldn’t help but think about sinking inside her again. His member thickened as he replayed the events of last night.
After dinner at his favorite restaurant, they’d returned to his house in the suburbs. Within minutes of entering, he’d had her against the wall, her dress pulled over her hips. She’d yelped in surprise when he tore her panties from her body, throwing them to the side. The material of her skintight dress pulled and stretched as his hands yanked the material under her beautiful, perfectly sized breasts.
“Damn. You’re so fucking beautiful,” Max whispered in Kiana’s ear before biting down on the soft flesh of her ear. “I can’t get enough of you.” Kissing her neck, he nipped at the skin. “Let me in.”
“Max.” Her tone breathless, Kiana turned to look at him and smiled. “You want this?”
“You know I do. Say the words, baby.” He’d almost resorted to begging.
Since he’d picked her up from her apartment three hours ago, he’d been waiting for this moment. When he had her all to himself, away from all the crowds and people vying for his attention. Time alone with his woman was all he needed. When he could sink inside her so deep, he didn’t know where he ended, and she began.
“Give me the words.”
“If you want it, then you have to take it.”
Her words unleashed the beast inside of him. Releasing his weeping cock, he pressed against the wetness of her pussy. His cock slid inside like a hot knife slicing butter, and it felt like heaven. A loud hiss released from his lips as he felt every inch of her body open for him. Her whimpers and moans reminded him of the sweetest, most beautiful music to his ears.
It had taken him thirty-six years to find a woman who knew how to give him what he needed. Someone who was just as willing to have him fuck her against the wall, as she was to want the romance and roses. This woman was going to be the death of him one day but damn, what a way to go.
His teeth bit along the back of her neck and shoulders as he pounded inside of her. Wetness seeped from her body, coating his dick, making his path easier. The tightening of her channel sent electricity coursing through his body.
“Oh baby, that’s what I like. You know exactly what I need. Best pussy in the fucking world,” he whispered. One hand reached up to her long hair, grasping the long strands in his fist. Max pulled her head back, baring her neck to him. “No hiding tonight. I need to see your face.”
And he did. There was an urgency in the air tonight. He couldn’t put his finger on what was happening, but he needed a stronger connection.
“No hiding,” she agreed in a whisper. Her eyes fluttered closed. One of her arms reached back, grabbing the shirt at Max’s waist, as if pulling him closer to her.
“This is all mine. Tell me you’ll never leave me.” As he spoke, each word was punctuated by a hard thrust. At her continued moans and groans, Max clenched his hand tighter around the hair he was holding, forcing her head back more. “Say it, Kiana.”
“I-I’ll never leave you, Max.”
That breathless tone of hers set him off. He felt the orgasm rushing through his body. Increasing his thrusts, he wrapped his other arm around Kiana’s waist, pulling her body closer to his.
“Damned right, you won’t. You belong to me. This pussy is only for me,” Max growled.
If he could, he’d never let her out of his sight. This woman meant more to him than she knew. Or that he was willing to admit. Honestly, it scared him to feel this way about a woman. She held the power to destroy him in her hands and had no idea.
As her orgasm hit, her body began to shake and quiver in his arms; her voice began rising in a scream as the overwhelming sensation traveled through her body. Just as she hit her highest pitch, he stopped fighting against nature.
With a loud groan, he released his seed inside her. A little voice in his head wished his little swimmers could finish their intended mission. Visions of her swollen with his baby had begun playing in his mind, but he knew it was too soon.
Coming back to the present, Max slid his hard cock against Kiana’s bare sheath. He knew one surefire way to wake her up with a smile on her face. Lifting one of her legs, Max stared at her for a few seconds before guiding his thick member inside her warm channel. Pumping slowly, he knew this morning was the time for some slow loving.
He’d taken his woman hard last night. Multiple times. Never once did she tell him to stop or slow down. Kissing her naked back, he guided one of his hands to her chest, palming one of the fleshy mounds as he rocked her awake.
For a guy like him, this wasn’t the life he’d ever expected to have. Growing up in government housing with a mother who worked two jobs, and a little sister who’d looked at him as if he hung the moon, his life had seemed to be on a one-way track. Prison. Hell, maybe even death. Somehow fate had stepped in, giving him a chance to do something different. He’d jumped at the chance, never looking back. Twenty years later, he had more than he’d dreamed of, and then some.
As Kiana began rotating her hips, pushing back against him as he pushed into her, he smiled at how good things were for him. Having this woman in his bed, moaning against him as he slid inside her, was his idea of fucking perfect.
Max stared at the form of the woman sprawled across his bed. If he could, he’d keep her right here where he could see her every day. He knew they were on borrowed time. Secrets had a way of coming out when you least expect it. Nothing in his life had ever been easy. He didn’t believe his relationship with Kiana to be any different.
Sighing deeply, he picked up a lock of her thick, dark hair. He’d pressed his luck with this one. From the moment he saw her, she called to him. He knew she was too good for him, and one day soon, she’d know it as well. The time was coming when he’d have to pay the piper for this sliver of peace he’d been allowed to have.
His reckoning was coming soon, but he wasn’t ready to pay the price.
He could only hope that when his angel realized the man lying next to her was the devil in disguise, she didn’t rip his heart out. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her body closer to his. Closing his eyes, he wanted to grab another hour of sleep before they started the day.
Kissing her on the forehead, he whispered, “When you find out what I really am, I hope you’ll still need me as much as I need you.”
A FEW HOURS LATER, Kiana stood in Max’s kitchen, making a cup of coffee. Taking a sip of the dark brew, she sat down on a chair in front of the breakfast nook. Her body was sore this morning, but it was a good kind of sore, she thought with a smile. Every ache and pain had been worth it. On any given day, Max was insatiable.
He’d taken her repeatedly until she passed out with exhaustion. But last night was different. More desperate. Driven. He’d kept going long after they would have usually stopped. Asking her again and again not to leave him. Turning her head to look at the bedroom where she knew he still slept, her brow creased in concern. Maybe there was something else going on with him.
They’d only been dating for three short months, but in that time, she’d fallen for him like a bag of rocks. Smiling as she thought of that night, she knew meeting him had been a stroke of luck. There was no one else like Maxwell Bishop, and she liked it that way just fine.
Six Months Ago
Kiana sipped her wine, looking around the room at all the suits vying for attention. Everyone here had an agenda. Some were here to grab the attention of that one person who could
help them close a major deal. Others grabbed an invitation because they felt this was the place to be seen.
There were also the ones who’d wormed their way into the outside circle of the senator speaking tonight. In Washington, DC, anyone and everyone who was someone, was connected to a high-profile political figure. You may not always see it in the public eye, but that didn’t make it any less real.
She, on the other hand, was here because she had to be. Her law firm was one of many on retainer by the senator, and a few other political figures, so an invitation was a given. Attendance from the attorneys was mandatory. Since she’d been able to rock-paper-scissors her way out of the last two events, this time she was the lamb sent for slaughter.
If she had her druthers, she’d be at home reading a book and watching reruns of her favorite crime drama. Taking a deep breath, Kiana began moving around the room with the intent to look as if headed somewhere specific. In reality, she just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Most of these people were stuffy, boring, and too damn uptight. She may be a Georgetown educated attorney, but these kinds of events were not her cup of tea at all. Speaking of tea...
Walking up to the bar, she placed her empty glass down and motioned to the bartender. “May I have a gin and tonic, please?”
Waiting for her drink, her nose caught a whiff of a man’s scent. Unable to stop herself, she lifted her head, looking in the direction of the smell. “Damn,” she said under her breath. Standing no more than six feet away from her was the kind of man who made panties drop in less than ten seconds without even trying. Dark hair slicked back from his forehead. Strong nose, with just a bit of a bend at the top, as if it had been broken once a long time ago.
From what she could tell, he stood at least a couple inches over six feet. Maybe taller. His eyes watched the movement in the room, but he didn’t look to be the standard guest to attend an event like this. That’s not to say he looked out of place. That wasn’t it at all. He just looked like he had better things to do. His face showed boredom. She almost called out to him to “Join the Club” but held back. Not everyone got her humor, and he didn’t look like the type to take kindly to an unsolicited joke.