The Good Girl

by Tracy Reed

  I love her innocence. I would put her there in the interim, but she’s not ready yet. “My first interim choice isn’t available.”

  “The past month I’ve watched you work, and something as minor as availability isn’t going to stop you.”

  “I’ve got Tony working on it.”

  “Problem solved.”

  “Not exactly. Even if I get an interim person in place by the end of the week, it will take Tony at least two weeks to get them up to speed.”

  “Then do it.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You said now that our relationship had changed, you would feel better if he traveled with us.” I quickly reminded her of her request.

  “I would, but…”

  I felt her tensing up. “I know I’m asking a lot, but I need you to trust me.”

  “It’s not you I don’t trust.” She looked up at me with a slight smile.

  I leaned back. “You don’t trust yourself to be alone with me?”

  “Not so much that…it’s Paris. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s a very romantic city and no matter how good our intentions may be, something could happen.”

  She caught me off guard with her statement, but she’s right. I know she has concerns. The last time I was in Paris, was with Chantal shortly before we broke up. I took her there hoping to rekindle our relationship. Instead, a month after we got back, we broke up. In spite of the tension, we had an amazing time and some of the best sex of our relationship.

  “I promise nothing will happen that we don’t want to happen.”

  “Maybe we need to set some rules.”

  “Rules?” I smiled.

  “Yes. No late night walks, picnics, intimate dinners and rooms on separate floors.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I’m not agreeing to any of that.”

  “I thought we agreed to take our relationship slow?”

  “We are. We’re both adults and if we can’t trust each other, then there’s no sense in us going any further with this relationship.” I kissed her. “I’m not going to Paris with my girlfriend and treat her like a stranger.”

  “Girlfriend? That’s not a slow word,” she smiled.

  “For me it is,” I smiled.

  “I guess my boyfriend is taking me to Paris.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Gabriella

  I TRIED TO SNEAK INTO the house. I attribute my stupidity to the wine and the kisses from Phillippe. I walked inside and it was dark except for the light in the kitchen, and the one at the top of the stairs. I turned the lights off and went to my room.

  I sat on the side of the bed, replaying the evening and the conversation with Phillippe. He’s right. If I’m not going to trust him, I need to walk away now.

  I took my phone out of my bag and before I could plug it into the charger, it started vibrating. I pressed the button to read the text…Mon Amour, I really enjoyed serving and dining with you. Have to cancel our date for tomorrow. On my way to Seattle. Will call you later. Bonne nuit, Phillippe. I texted back…Have a safe trip…Bonne nuit, Gabriella.

  I got undressed and climbed into bed. I lay down staring at the ceiling and praying. I know in the morning my mother is going to be full of questions and right now, I don’t have suitable answers. I had the truth…I’m dating my boss and while we’re in Europe, we’re going to really get to know each other. I kept rehearsing my speech until I fell asleep.

  I rolled over and the smell of coffee infiltrated my dream and woke me up. I climbed out of bed, went into to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and washed off what was left of last night’s makeup. I tamed my wild hair and put on my robe. I looked at my clock. It was nine thirty. I can’t believe I slept that long.

  I went downstairs. I was hoping to avoid my mom, but I knew that wasn’t possible. When I walked around the corner and into the kitchen, she was standing at the counter reading the paper and drinking coffee. I coughed and she looked up. “Morning, Sunshine or should I say Mon Amour.”

  My eyes almost popped out of their socket. “Uhm…”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” I sat down and she placed a tall white mug in front of me and filled it with hot, black coffee. I took a couple of long sips, hoping the hot liquid would burn my tongue rendering me unable to speak. No such luck. I placed the cup on the counter and looked my mother in the eye.

  “Let’s talk.”

  I swallowed hard. My insides were turning, and not in a good way. This wasn’t the jumpy, excited stomach I get when I’m with Phillippe. This was the nervous stomach I get when I know I’m about to be interrogated by my mother.

  Funny thing, my dad’s the lawyer, yet my mother is much better at extracting information. Maybe she was a spy in her former life. Because no matter how thorough I am in trying to get information out of her, she never cracks. How does she know, Phillippe’s pet name for me?

  I was scared to take my eyes off of her. I took another couple of sips of caffeine for courage, but I was never any good at playing chicken. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “How was dinner?”

  This is clearly a trick question. My mother says she never asks a question she doesn’t know the answer to. If she’s asking me about dinner, then she knows it wasn’t a business meeting, but a date.

  “Good.” I tried not to smile or think about the amazing food and wine or the make out session in the private dining room. I sipped some more coffee.

  “Where did you go?”

  Another trap. I wish she’d just come right out and ask. But she won’t because that would be showing her hand, and she never shows her hand until she’s ready.

  “I wasn’t paying attention when the driver dropped me off.”

  She nodded. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time did you get home?”

  Okay, I know she knows the answer to this one. I sat up straight and owned my answer. “I got home a little after midnight. How was your evening?…what did you and daddy do?” I tried to shift the focus onto her.

  “Your dad turned in early because he had a breakfast meeting, and I sat in bed reading. I must have dosed off right before you got home.” She returned her attention to the newspaper. “Any plans today?”

  My eyes got wide. How does she know about my date? I swear she has a tracker embedded in me. I sipped some more caffeinated courage and retraced my steps from last night. Then it occurred to me. I vaguely recall her coming in to my room and looking at my phone, but I thought that was a dream.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. There was a text from Phillippe…Good morning, Mon Amour. Should be home late tonight. How about taking our drive and picnic tomorrow? Phillippe. Crap! Crap! Crap! Busted!

  She looked at me and her gaze sent a chill through my body. “So, how much longer do you want to dance around this?”

  I placed my phone on the counter and braced myself for this conversation. “What do you want to know?”

  THE END

  “the good girl”

  is part of the Fling New Adult Box Set

  other books in the Fling New Adult Box Set

  Entangled Summer

  by Michele Barrow-Belisle

  Love Me Like You Do

  by L. Kirk

  Chase

  by Elena Dillion

  My Best Friend's Ex

  by Tina Gayle

  Betrayal at Crater's Edge

  by Kathleen Rowland

  Random Acts of Violet

  by Geralyn Corcillo

  Fling New Adult Box Set

  available at www.amazon.com

  Here’s a sneak peek at

  two other novels

  by

  Tracy Reed

  excerpt from

  Generational Curse

  A NOVEL

  1

  KYLA PROMISED HERSELF SHE WOULD nev
er be like the other women in her family, dating a married man and settling for the pennies he doled out.

  She’d always felt she was worth more. She met Eric at a fundraiser. He smiled, she smiled and after the cocktail hour, they found themselves seated next to each other. During dinner they talked and flirted and once the evening was over, he asked for her number. She declined and while getting ready for bed, she reached into her bag for her phone and noticed that she also had someone else’s phone.

  She called the last number dialed and a vaguely familiar voice said, “I’ve been waiting for your call. So what time do you want to meet for breakfast so I can get my phone?” They both laughed.

  They agreed to meet the following morning for breakfast. Two days later, they met again and included an extra slot for “therapy.”

  Making love in the morning seemed so decadent. She didn’t think anything of it until she received her first black envelope a month later.

  Eric said, “I’m tired of hotels. Rent a place and fix it up for us and keep whatever is left.”

  “I’m not a hooker.”

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I want to keep seeing you, but my neighbors are nosey.”

  “Oh, you’re married.”

  “No, I’m not. I just like my privacy. I like being with you, but---”

  “I understand.” She dropped her head and quickly began getting dressed. “I don’t think this is--”

  He noticed the change in her behavior and rushed to reassure her. “I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you, but I also don’t want you to think I’m monopolizing your time. You need your space and so do I. When we get together, it should be on neutral, comfortable ground and not some cold hotel room or a place filled with memories of past lovers.”

  He wrapped his arms around her pulling her to him, gently stroking her hair, inhaling her neck and gently placing a kiss on her soft shoulder. She turned around trying to read the expression on his face. Looking into his eyes, she wondered how many more love nests he had scattered around the city. She pulled his face close to hers and covering his mouth with hers, kissed him passionately. She slipped her hands inside the front of his pants while sliding her tongue inside his mouth, exciting him to the point of arousal.

  She pulled back and whispered, “Once more before we have to go?”

  He couldn’t resist her. The soft seductive tone of her voice and the gentle touch of her hand, made him weak and willing to do anything she asked. Kyla knew if there were anyone else, they would have a hard time competing with her.

  She got her education in how to manipulate a man by eavesdropping on her aunts’ conversations. They were all experts when it came to being with and manipulating married men. She learned how to kiss from her high school boyfriend. And her college boyfriend, her biology professor, schooled her in anatomy and how to physically please a man.

  Before getting involved with Eric, she had dated, but she only had two other semi serious relationships. Neither was fulfilling. The first was Thomas Smith. He was cute, but he lacked the drive to satisfy her physically. When they were together she found herself fantasizing about other men. Intellectually he was a genius, but no one really makes love to a person’s brain. It was the other part of his body that needed more educating and she knew she wasn’t a school teacher.

  Then there was Alister Humphrey. The name alone intrigued her. She had never met a black man with such a stuffy name. In the beginning he seemed like the complete package. Model good looks, intelligence and his skills in bed were unbelievable. The first time they made love, the intensity of his being inside her brought tears to her eyes. Not because it was painful, but because she had never felt such pleasure. Alister knew exactly how to read her body. A skill that was the result of his blindness. What he lacked in vision, he more than compensated for in his other senses. But, he was a man and as they all do, he began making demands and that’s when she called it quits. Mind blowing sex aside, Kyla was gone.

  Her aunts always said, “Don’t allow a man to make demands on you. You make the demands on him. Use what you have and any man can be controlled with the sway of your hips and the wink of your eye. And, showing a little cleavage wouldn’t hurt either.”

  If she were going to marry, it would be to Eric. He was everything she wanted. Handsome, well educated, focused, rich and eager to please in and out of bed. But she also learned from her aunts, the wife always got the leftovers and Kyla didn’t like leftovers or sloppy seconds. When Eric suggested the apartment, at first she thought, he was ashamed of her. But Eric’s response to her kiss and touch convinced her, she was his priority.

  She knew she was in charge. She eased her hand further down his pants pleading, “Baby, please make me sing again before sending me off to start the day.”

  She kissed his neck before dropping the sheet that was caressing her body and walked into the bathroom. He stood still contemplating the repercussions of being late to the office, when he heard the shower running. He looked at his watch and texted his assistant he would be late. He put his phone on the desk, striped, walked into the steam filled bathroom and opened the shower door to a wet and soapy Kyla, smiling.

  “Are you ready to sing?” he asked as he leaned her up against the slippery tiled wall. He pressed himself against her and filled his mouth with every inch of her. He lifted her from behind and rode her like a beautiful long legged mare. The harder he rode, the louder she sang. One last trot, and he sang out too. He rested his head on her chest and she had her answer, “no,” there was no one else, just her. She reached over and turned the hot water off. They both needed to cool down. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t leave me,” he begged.

  She smiled to herself and replied, “Whatever you say baby.”

  He pulled away and she turned the hot water back on and washed him like a newborn baby. Gently stroking every inch of him. He knew there wasn’t another woman like her. No woman ever treated him like this. He stood still and let her soft hands wash him clean.

  On his way to work, he called her. “You are an amazing woman.” She remained silent. “Can I see you tonight?”

  She thought for a moment before replying, “Only if you promise to repeat that shower scene.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Now more than three years later and countless showers and secret meetings, she’s still calling the shots.

  excerpt from

  THE ALEX CHRONICLES:

  What My Friends Don’t Know

  book one

  this is how it started...

  1 Alex

  I SCANNED THE ROOM ADMIRING the Who’s Who of Atlanta, all here to help me celebrate the opening of my new store.

  My cousin Taylor offered to throw me a welcome to Atlanta party, sort of a pre-opening. She said it’s the best way to entice the glitterati of Atlanta to come to the opening. If I weren’t the guest of honor, I’d be gone. I have so much to get done before the opening.

  I looked across the room and caught the eye of the most beautiful man in the room. I convinced myself he was smiling at me, until I realized my cousin Taylor was behind me.

  She walked over and whispered, “Too bad he is so old.”

  “How old is he?” I asked.

  “He’s in our neighborhood.”

  “So now, we’re old?”

  “No girl.” She laughed. “You know what I mean. I thought I’d try something a little fresher.” She turned to her right and cast a big smile in the direction of this young, honey colored, bald child standing in the corner. He was fine, but he still had milk on his lips. She motioned for him to come over although Mr. Dark Chocolate was also headed towards us.

  Mr. Dark Chocolate moved like a gazelle, slow and steady gliding across the room. Swagger...confidence...danger. As he approached, I saw the details of his face more clearly. His skin looked like smooth dark chocolate and he had the most incredible light brown eyes. I’ve never seen a man so dark with such light eyes. They
didn’t seem real, nor did he. He smiled and I felt something deep in my core. I don’t care if he’s only coming over to talk to my cousin. I’m grateful to stand here in his presence and lust…I mean admire him. He stopped in front of us and my mind immediately filled with thoughts no good Christian girl should know anything about.I wonder what he looks like wet and naked. I looked around hoping I hadn’t said that out loud.

  “Hello, Taylor.” He smiled.

  Oh God, did You recycle Barry White’s voice box and put it inside this beautiful package? My hormones and body went into a tailspin and I was ruined for any other man on this planet.

  Taylor managed to pry herself from junior’s arms long enough to acknowledge what I believe to be God’s best work. “Hi Moses. I’m glad you came.”

  He kissed the back of her hand and replied, “Thank you for inviting me.” He took my hand, turned it over and gently kissed it. I think my uterus just flipped over.

  “Good evening, I’m Moses Adair.”

  Moses, lead me to the Promise land. “Alexandra Miller.”

  “Are you the Alex?” He asked.

  If I wasn’t, I was now. “Which Alex would that be?” I replied with a smile.

  “The Alex I’ve been hearing people talk about all evening.”

  “Depends on what you’ve heard.” I’m trying to flirt and that’s not something I’m good at. I wanted to tell him, “I’m whoever I need to be in order to keep talking to you.”

  “Excuse me,” Taylor said as she took junior’s arm and left us standing in the middle of the room.

  “I heard a woman say she hoped the pink dress Alex was wearing would be available at the store, because she liked the way it...” He slowly looked me up and down. When his eyes met mine, he was smiling. I instantly recognized that smile. It’s the same one I had when I first spotted him. “...framed her face.”