Never Knew Love Like This Before

by Denise Campbell, Michelle McGriff, Maxine Thompson

Genres: Anthologies

Synopsis

In Katrina Blues, sparks fly when Deni Richards, a Los Angeles Attorney, meets Coleman Blue, a gorgeous, displaced New Orleans jazz saxophonist, in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. At first glance they re complete opposites, but tragedy brings these two opposites together to find common ground in love. At forty-six, Glenda Dixon is about to experience A Change of Life. Her perfectly calculate life is thrown into a tailspin when she announces to her husband of twenty-seven years that she s expecting her first baby, and he announces that he is having an affair and plans to file for divorce. With all that going now, is a new man one ten years her junior one change too many? Successful, accomplished, and single, Morgan feels her biological clock ticking and pressures from family and peers to choose a man and settle down. She wanted to be free, but no alone. Her fear of commitment leads her to become involved with three men at the same time. There s Bruce, a sexy police officer and Troy, who embodies the irresistible and alluring thug life. Then there s Isaiah, who appears to be her soul mate, or so it seems. Will passion and excitement find her wrapped up in Something Hot?

Release date: November 20, 2014

Publisher: Urban Soul

Print pages: 305

Sample

She licked her lips passionately as her body burned with passion within her. Desire had taken over and her body writhed uncontrollably as she struggled to breathe. Her knuckles turned white as she grabbed the red silk sheets for support. She gasped as his hot breath seared the skin on her neck as he whispered how badly he wanted to be inside of her.

The urgency was beyond what her mind could hold. She felt she would go mad as sweat seeped from her skin and she could feel his hard rippled body merge with hers, building in momentum as he found the valley of her desires, wetness drawing him to the point of no return, her moans and groans beckoning to him to fulfill within her the yearnings of her heart.

She released the sheets and reached for him, he hoisted her up from the base of her buttocks and positioned himself for the ultimate thrill, her eyes fluttered and her mouth fell open. Blood boiled like hot lava under her skin as she braced for impact....

“Yes, please stop teasing me,” she begged.

Just as the tip of him made contact her eyes squeezed to shut out the loud noise that violated the moment she yearned for. She fought against the rude sound that threatened to stop the orgasm that threatened to explode with just one thrust, but it wouldn’t stop. She shook her head violently in protest.

“You want me to stop baby?” he whispered, his words kissing the already fragile heat that burned her.

“No, no pleasssse,” she shouted and her body shot upright and erect in her bed, sweat drenched her sheets, her thighs leaked the love juice of unfulfilled desire and the loud piercing noise of her alarm clock mocked her. She reached for the clock by her nightstand and in one fit of rage she ripped it from the socket and flung it hard against her bedroom wall. Smashing it.

“Damn it!” she screamed in frustration. The closest I have come to having a good roll in the hay with a man and that damn clock ruined it. She lay back down, and her hands sought her heaving abdomen as it rose and fell under the moist sheets. Her hands caressed her inner thighs, trailed the hairy valley that dips into her love nest and picked up momentum, she twisted her body this way and then wiggling that, but to no avail. She tried to find that moment again, the point where she felt completely lost but it just wouldn’t come back.

“Grrrr.” Her hands flopped down in aggravation, annoyance rippling through her. She looked at the streaming sunlight coming through her window and sighed. It was at least 6:30 A.M. She had to get out of bed and get ready for work. She closed her eyes and licked her lips as she thought back to the delightful dream and smiled as she thought of Troy, then Bruce, but then the image of Isaiah came into her mind . . . she had to make a choice soon or she felt she would simply explode from sheer desire.

She took her time getting dressed since she was already awake and made herself a cup of coffee as she lounged, brooding over the loss of her unfulfilled dream. She sighed and draped her arms over the chair at her bar and stared out at the beautifully budding morning. It was Monday again and she was due in at the office with tons of appointments if she remembered right. She placed her coffee on the bar and began moving with a bit more urgency as the thought of her day propelled her.

“Good morning, Alex,” Morgan answered on the second ring as she peered towards the clock on the wall and saw it was almost 8:30 A.M. “What happened to you? You are late?” she blurted out realizing in that moment she was also late.

“Don’t start Morgan; I don’t see you sitting at the door waiting with bated breath,” Alexandra told her sarcastically as she turned off the ignition and waited in front of Morgan’s penthouse high-rise building in the busy New York City streets where she double parked. “So how much time do you actually need?” Alexandra asked knowing that as the morning traffic built there would be blaring horns of impatient drivers driving her nuts. Morgan looked at her slipped top and stocking feet and sighed.

“Let me put something easy on and I will be down, ten minutes tops.” She hung up the phone before her friend could make another sarcastic comment. She gingerly stepped into her unorganized walking closet and tried to find something easy to put on. She smiled at the comment knowing that with her, there was no such thing as something easy to put on.

As she dug through the pile of clothing both casual and formal she found a black pin-striped pant suit and grabbed it with glee.

“Yes!” she said exuberantly, “this will have to do.” She struggled out of the closet and ran back into the bathroom. She threw on a pearl necklace and earrings and pinned her long auburn hair into a bun on top of her head, fastening it with pearl stick pins.

Walking towards her office desk, she changed handbags from the pink she had the day before, now to white, careful to put her wallet and keys inside along with her cell phone. Then hopping from one leg to the next, she pulled her pants on, a sheen white camisole top and her matching jacket. She looked out the window of her modest townhouse at an unimpressed Alexandra. “I am on my way down,” she yelled.

As she stepped into the passenger side of the car and flopped down, Alex looked at her with a look of disdain.

“I had the hottest dream and it totally ruined my morning,” Morgan blurted out to deflect Alex’s lecture, and it worked. Alexandra knew Morgan and she understood that this was her way of changing the subject so she let it slide. Besides, Alexandra being a married woman loved the juicy dreams and tirades of Morgan, living vicariously through her as she liked to say now that her life with her husband had become comfortable.

“Okay, so tell me about this hot dream,” Alexandra prodded, changing the mood from accusatory to a girlfriend tone. When Morgan was finished she let out a long breath and gingerly fanned her face with her right hand. “No wonder you are so grumpy. I should have shared my quarterly quickie with you.” They both laughed heartily as she winked, resting her hand gingerly on Morgan’s leg.

Running to the office to beat time, Morgan and Alexandra got suspicious stares and furtive sidelong glances as the employees went about their way. Some were jealous of Alexandra for getting preferential treatment from the boss since they were close friends and others thought Morgan was being biased. But after years of trying to please people and worrying about how things looked, Morgan decided that she worked as hard as she did to be where she was so she could do as she pleased. And as chief executive of the upscale trendy magazine Flowers Bed, she was not in the mood to play petty games of jealously and favorites when she knew she worked hard and played fair. As she sat at her desk and looked out at the amazing New York skyline from the eighty-ninth floor of one of the most prestigious buildings in the city, she had to squeeze her legs together as she reminisced on how lucidly clear her dream was, abstinence becoming a more and more challenging ambition with each passing day. She chuckled privately to herself as she began sifting through her messages and files and began dialing, returning calls and focusing on the day’s work ahead.

It didn’t take long.

She noticed the messages but left those that were not as urgent as the copyediting meeting, press conference, and board of directors meeting on her agenda for early that afternoon that she still had to prep for.

“Ms. Quixotic, there is a Mr. Debauched on the line for you.” There was a smirk in her secretary’s voice that she didn’t like and this was not the day to hear from Troy. He of all people was so full of himself, obnoxious and insolent. She took a deep breath as she answered the line.

“This is Morgan.”

“So you foget ’bout me baby?” The deep sensual question that resonated from the depths of his throat caught her off guard and a smile snuck up on her.

“And what do you mean to say with such an accusation, Troy?” He liked games, and though she wasn’t quite in the mood, his sweet disposition on the phone chided her to dance with him for the moment. This was one of the things that irked and pleased her about him, and he knew it. She could feel him slowly wet his lips on the other end of the line and run his fingers through his long dreadlocks with his right hand. She sighed, and she could see it as if she was there, his eyes closing to half-mast at the sound of her voice.

“Stop teasing me woman. You know I miss you. I cannot take this anymore. Let’s stop these games. I want to see you, touch you, kiss you and . . .”

“Troy, we had a date two weekends in a row where you didn’t show up, didn’t call and left me hanging, and then you call me as if nothing happened and I am supposed to jump into bed with you as if everything is okay.”

“You know I am sorry baby. Things came up.”

“That’s a problem, Troy, you don’t understand what it means to have responsibilities; you make commitments and you don’t follow through. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“You are ova’ reacting, baby love.”

“Enough! I cannot bear this.”

“You know what I want an’ it’s you. I don’t want to go back to di man I was when we met; you have given me everything I need. I want that, I want to know there is one dime piece that’s got my back.”

Morgan quivered. Having never met a man like Troy, he was a bit of a thrill for her. Naughty, bad, everything she had been warned to stay away from. He took her completely by surprise. He wasn’t what she thought a bad boy would be. She was from the right side of the tracks. She didn’t have it all, but her parents worked hard to make sure she had what she needed. What they couldn’t give her she made up for with brains, and a little beauty went a long way. It excited her the way he was gentle, affectionate, bared his soul to her even though at times he was lying through his teeth. Just the thought caused her to squeeze her legs together and feel the beginnings of desire creep up between them and nestled itself at her love spot. He knew what he was doing and he was good at it.

“You know I am a little confused. I need time to sort this all out.”

“What time? Baby, I am your every t’ing. I will give you every t’ing. You know I can woman.” And she sipped air slowly. The way he said that, dropping his voice an octave to a sultry offer, she knew what he meant and she knew he could do it. But that’s not the life she wanted—well, not the way he wanted to give it to her. This was ridiculous. She didn’t need to be taken care of by a man, she could do that ten times over on her own, but what he could do for her heart was quite tempting. She couldn’t help feeling a tinge of fear. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid of him or just his lifestyle but she knew fear was not a good component when choosing someone to love.

He felt her hesitation, and could taste her desire permeating the phone lines and smell her pheromones whiff past his nose. He sniffed. He wanted her bad. Yeah, he had his pick of the litter, but Morgan was different. She had class and wasn’t just about what he had because she had her own. He knew she wouldn’t betray him if she chose him, he knew she would have his back and maybe his babies. Granted he had a few babies already but he could deal.

“Darling, I cannot talk about this all right now. I have a few really important afternoon meetings to attend to. I will have to call you back later when I am home. Is that okay?” He was all rough around the edges but he was so sexy beyond her expectation. She thought about his long dreadlocks that would swoosh around her during their last lovemaking before she was thrust on this journey of celibacy; she remembered the way he walked around carrying her with her legs wrapped around his torso, rhythmically plunging away at her very soul as she hung on tight and screamed out his name. He did things to her she didn’t know any normal man could do. He was strong and muscular, strapped to the bone with the most natural weapon of all. He was beautiful. The thoughts ignited the burning sensation that left her frustrated earlier that morning.

He heard her pant and he knew she remembered. The same way he remembered. No woman had dared say no to him. He was bad. Everyone knew of his reputation and when he had set his eyes on her all local competitors knew to back off, but he knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted her, knew he had to compete with all the Goody Two-Shoe stuffed shirts she was used to. But he was used to competition and wasn’t about to back down.

“Sho’ baby. Anything you want. Holler at me later. I might be rolling but I will make time for my number-one lady. You know dat?” He hissed and then softly chuckled, almost hypnotically, sending shock waves of sensation down her spine.

“Okay baby. I have to go,” she said and quickly hung up the phone. She sighed deeply and dropped her head back on her plush leather chair. She was going crazy and that man . . .

“Ohhhhhhhh that man!” she said more sensuously out loud, allowing her hands to slip between her thighs and squeezing her legs together on them. Pulling herself together she stood and took a few deep breaths; she ran her fingers through her curly auburn tresses that rested below her shoulder blades, a mass of gorgeous natural color courtesy of her half-Latina, half-black mother and her coolie Caribbean father. What am I going to do? she thought as she yanked at her collar and breathed out slowly.

“Shelly, please contact all departments involved in this afternoon meeting and tell everyone to meet me in the main conference room. Make sure we have fresh-brewed coffee and some pastries, please. It’s going to be a long evening.”

“Ms. Quixotic,” Shelly paused and waited for her boss’s response.

“Yes, Shelly.”

“There is another . . .”

“I am not taking anymore phone calls outside of business today, Shelly,” she snapped and she knew it. Shelly was new and a real sweetheart. She had been there only three months and had made her life so much easier. She felt bad that she allowed her sexual frustration mingled with her personal quagmire to surface.

“I am sorry Ms. Quixotic; I didn’t mean to make you angry. I only meant to tell you that you have a delivery. There was another phone call from an anonymous person who asked to be sure you received it before you left for lunch.”

“I am sorry Shelly; I am a little tense today. You understand.” Her voice threaded with an apology as she lightened her tone and mood. “Please bring in the delivery.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And Shelly, could you please call me Morgan.” She tried to lighten her voice, brushing Troy to the back of her mind and brightening up.

“Yes ma’am . . . I mean, Morgan.”

She gathered her files and set her voice mail as she prepared to head to the main conference room, as she walked toward her door she was not prepared for what greeted her.

Shelly had requested the assistance of three other secretaries on their floor to help her take the delivery into Morgan’s office.

“What are you doing?”

“You told me to bring your delivery in, Ms. Qui . . . Morgan.”

“This is it?” Her voice cracked as she blushed and a smile replaced her surprise. “Is there a card? Who is it from? Did the delivery person say anything?” She was rambling and she knew it. But there was no way for her to know who would send her these flowers. It could be one of three men who desperately awaited her decision. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to think about it. But after ten bouquets of three dozen long-stemmed roses of every color there were dropped at her feet, her curiosity got the better of her. Running out of room they placed some of the flowers on her office floor in every available corner.

“It looks like someone is really smitten,” Shelly commented shyly.

“Or crazy,” Morgan said as she reached for one of the cards discreetly snuggled between one of the bouquets and opened it. All color drained from her face as she shook her head flabbergasted.

“What is it, is everything okay?” Shelly rushed to her aid as she seemed she would fall. She brushed her hands away and turned her back to her as a tear slipped down her caramel rose-colored cheeks. She brushed it away quickly and smiled, slowly turning around as she quickly regained her composure. Isaiah was the closest to what she would want in a man. She wondered if she was overlooking a gem in him. Though he was quite a looker, she felt something was missing. She didn’t feel that thing that Troy did to her with Isaiah. But he did offer her some whopping mental orgasms as powerful as physical ones. The man’s brain was a wealth of power, information, and knowledge. She found it sexy and could sit with him for hours just talking and spending time; listening to him inspired her. But then, that was where it sort of ended. What was wrong with her?

“It’s just the man who sent these. It took me by surprise is all.” She smiled and shook her head slightly, causing her tresses to fall behind her shoulders and away from her face. Feeling suddenly hot she walked to her desk and retrieved a hair pin and swiftly wrapped her hair into a bun on top of her head. It is Mr. Isaiah Urbane who was causing the conflict in her. He is good, kind, thoughtful. He didn’t harass her or press her for time. Having known him for almost four years at the brink of her now successful and budding career, he had proposed. But she wasn’t ready for anything like that. Wasn’t ready for marriage and children, all the things she knew Isaiah wanted. Sure he already had a son, but the circumstances are strange, and he hasn’t had a chance to raise a child, be a father. Never married at forty-seven years old also held her reserve. He was almost perfect, and she didn’t understand why she wasn’t as attracted to him as she was someone she thought less worthy, less good for her, and in the future would probably be more problematic for her. Or maybe she was fed up with the fact that the few times they went away on getaway weekends, he only wanted to stay in bed and sleep when she wanted to go hiking and sightseeing. He was tired all the time after a few hours and she wanted to make love all night. His siblings were her parents’ age and she wanted to join a family where she could have sister- and brothers-in-law to chat with and have fun with and share family events and holidays to help make them special. Maybe she just wanted too much.

“Okay Shelly, let’s go. We have a deadline to meet and this upcoming issue of Flowers Bed is going to stun, shock and make lots of noise.” She teased as she gently rested her hand on her assistant’s shoulder as an act of repentance and walked out of her office door.

The day sped by and she was totally pooped. She had a productive day and was too tired to think about anything else but taking a long hot bath, climbing into bed, and sleeping the night away. Before she left she ordered everyone in the office to take home a bouquet of roses. She had to smile. They were indeed exquisite, just as the man who thought to send them. She didn’t drive home with Alexandra this evening; her friend had a hot date and wanted to leave early, which she almost never did. She was happy for her so she agreed. She called a car service and reclined comfortably in the back in the plush leather seats as the air conditioner soothed her and closed her eyes. She felt the driver weave through traffic rushing her to her Upper East Side Manhattan penthouse condo as she planned out how she would end her evening.

She was soon forced from her state of respite as the livery service came to an abrupt halt, not three blocks from her home. There was a police blockade blocking traffic from entering the small one-way street on which she resided.

“Excuse me, driver, what’s happening? Why have we stopped?”

“I am sorry, ma’am, but the police are blocking the street, seem to be searching vehicles,” he told her uncertainly.

“Maybe they are looking for someone,” Morgan said as she began digging in her purse to pay her fare. “I will get out and walk from here; I am not very far away from home.” She stuck her fingers through the glass window and gave the cabbie sixty dollars.

“This is too much money,” exclaimed the driver, flabbergasted.

“Its okay, I appreciate your speedy response in taking me home and you will be stuck in traffic for a while it seems.” She smiled nicely at him, opened the door, and gently slid out the door, closing it behind her. She began to walk slowly and leisurely as she watched the roadblock unfold in front of her, and like her many neighbors and onlookers who had stopped to see the spectacle and inquire as to why there was a roadblock on a one-way residential Manhattan street in the middle of rush hour, she was very curious. The pileup was endless and as she got closer to her building she saw all the flashin. . .