Ain't Your Bitch (Interracial Urban Erotica)(151)

Tiffany soaks all this information in, nodding her head. "I understand.  Thank you," she says. Dr. Apfel leaves, and Max turns to Tiffany. Her  bright green eyes are filled with tears, her bottom lip quivering. She  covers her mouth as she sobs again, holding out her other hand. He takes  it in his, and pulls her toward him. His mouth covers hers, and they  share a sweet kiss.

"Come on, beautiful. Let's get you home." The words fill Tiffany with a  warmth she thought she would never feel again. Her baby is safe and Max  is here for her. Everything in the world seems right.

Max looks down at the new love he's forged and smiles. It may not be  what he expected, and he will probably have to deal with Charlotte  soon... but for now, he's happy.



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SEDUCTION

A BWWM Interracial Romantic Suspense Novel



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One



Jamelia Brown had already put her badge on its usual place right on her  belt, and didn't realize that it shouldn't have been there until she was  already out the door. It was odd, not being on-duty. She had forced  herself not to even bring it with her, and then somehow it had ended up  in her luggage anyway. Her work suit-that is to say, her only suit-was  there, too, and she had laid everything out the way she always did at  home.

Only, she wasn't at home, and she wasn't going to work. Which should  have made it uncomfortable and unusual to go around getting ready for  work, but somehow she had barely realized that she was doing it.

When she had finally been told, point blank, that she needed a vacation,  she thought it would be a relief. She'd finally have time to pick  skiing back up again. She hadn't been on a mountain since she was  fifteen years old, and now here she was, with a great view of the  Tetons. Jamelia stripped off the suit, already regretting bringing it.         

     



 

Those weren't the kinds of clothes that you needed on a skiing trip. But  the ever-present 'what if' was always there. What if she needed to  impress someone? What if she needed to look serious? What if she had to  have a suit for something?

She hung it back up on the rack, promising herself that this time she  wouldn't go straight for it the next morning. Then she changed into  tight-fitting winter clothes that didn't flatter her breasts nearly as  much as she might have liked. Then again, she thought, there wasn't  nearly enough of them to be flattered, looking down at them sadly.  Barely enough to fill her small hands.

She moved on from beating herself up over it and forced herself to keep  on going. She slipped her wallet into her pocket on the way out and  grabbed the keys to the rental car. She didn't need a new car, but it  was impressing her enough that if she did, she might buy one.  Reasonable, solid gas mileage, comfortable-it was a nice experience.  Almost nothing like the heap she drove to work every morning, but it  couldn't have the history she had with that old Jeep.

Her first stop was by the ski rentals. A man who looked like he thought  he was God's gift to women smiled at her with a grin that reminded her  of David Hasselhoff and asked if she needed any instruction. For such a  pretty lady, he could always justify a discount, no problem.

She didn't have the heart to tell him no, so instead she told him hell  no, and if he gave her a line like that again, he'd be taking a ride  down the mountain on a stretcher. He laughed like she'd been joking, and  maybe she had been. Somehow she suddenly wanted the suit back, and the  badge that went along with it, just so she could prove that she was  off-limits as long as she wanted to be.

Jamelia carried a pair of skis over to the counter, where David  Hasselhoff still leaned back, giving her a smile that you could run a  deep-frier with, and paid for her skis and poles. The man took her ID  and, to Jamelia's great frustration, read her name out loud. How  terribly predictable.

She took her card back once they'd run the credit through and seen that  she wasn't likely to run off with their equipment, and huffed out of the  room. She'd been expecting something like this pretty much since she  started working at the station. It had made it easier not to go on  vacation, when she realized that every vacation would be full of  assholes trying their best to ruin her time.

She stepped into line behind a couple of teenagers who looked like they  had all the money in the world and had decided to come to Wyoming as a  change of pace from Switzerland. They were talking about the usual sort  of nothing that she had come to expect from rich teenagers.

Jamelia closed her eyes a minute to try to calm herself down. She was  being a bitch and she knew it. That generally meant, and this was the  challenge, that she had to stop. But it was just so tempting, and there  wouldn't be many other chances to confirm that she'd been absolutely  right to forgo vacation time for seven years running.

But according to the Captain, while that was all fine and good for most  of them, she was getting wound up way too tight, and she needed a break.  Specifically her, as if she was doing something wrong getting the  highest close-rate in the county.

Well, whatever it was, it wasn't a complaint. They gave her full pay for  a week's vacation, and she intended to use it either getting back into  her childhood hobby, or proving that there was no reason to take  vacations. Either seemed about as good as the other, because even if she  didn't have a good time, she was going to have a good time giving the  Captain shit about it afterward, and that would more than make up for  the week of dealing with assholes.

Besides, out there in the cold, she always had the option of popping in  her ear-buds, and then she wouldn't hear a god damn thing. She took one  step closer to the front of the line, not far now. Half of the teenagers  had left and the others had continued the conversation as if they  hadn't noticed their friends' absence.

Jamelia finally decided to stop subjecting herself to the frustration  and nestled one of the earphones into her ear, enjoying the tight fill  inside. Then she pulled out her phone and started the music. In for a  penny, in for a pound, she figured. So she'd made a playlist full of  songs that she'd loved as a teenager, and she was going to make a very  strange weekend of reliving her life before the move out to the coast.

She kept the music quiet enough that she could almost hear over it, and  kept her other ear open. As if any moment she might suddenly need to  hear something. A voice behind her was accompanied by a tap on the  shoulder.

"You new in town?"

She craned her neck over, not wanting to get her skis turned around. "Just visiting," she said.

The man behind her was hard to see through all the clothing, but his  voice was at least friendly enough. She gave him a chance to say  something more.

"Yeah-I guess we all are, aren't we? Or, most of us, anyway. I  just-well, I was behind you in the ski rental, and I'm sorry how those  guys treated you."

"Yeah, well." Jamelia could hear how bitchy her voice sounded, but with  Britney Spears pumping quietly in her ears she was starting to feel  better, so she really hadn't planned on being any ruder than normal.  "Sometimes you have to deal with it."

"Well, maybe someone should give them a talking-to."

Jamelia liked the sound of that. Maybe they would like talking to her.  She was good at talking, when she wanted to be. She was especially good  at talking when there was something on the line. And she was an  exceptional talker when the guy was across a metal table, handcuffed  down and she could smell the scumbag on him.

Well, the handcuffs would be difficult, but the rest-they sounded  perfect for it, frankly. The man behind her pulled his scarf down and  his hat off, then held out his hand.

"I'm Roy."

Jamelia took it, still trying to turn as little as possible.

"Jamelia."

"Well, Jamelia, it looks like we're up."

Sure enough, the last remaining teenagers had found their seats and were  starting to slowly move up and away to the top of the mountain. Jamelia  moved over to get into the lift, and Roy moved up beside her.

She still couldn't see much of him, but from what she could see, she  wanted to see more. The man had a military-looking haircut and the jaw  to match it, with pretty eyes and a thin smile. She'd never used the  word 'dreamy' before, but then again, she'd never seen someone who  looked like Roy did.





Two



The way up the mountain wasn't as quiet as she'd wanted it to be before.  Roy seemed to have taken her manners as permission to talk to her most  of the way up, but somehow she wasn't as frustrated by it as she thought  she would be. The man kept himself to the usual topics. How much skiing  had she done, did she watch any sports, see any good movies lately. She  noticed that he hadn't talked about work, though. Not even one word.

Maybe he was like those teenagers. He didn't look like it. Pressed in  close, she could feel that it wasn't his coat that made him look bulky.  He had broad shoulders and the feeling of his muscles under the coat  made her wonder what he looked like in regular clothes.