Two stories in one great book about love.
Excerpt from Good Old Soul by Aja
When I woke up, my eyes were trying to focus on my surroundings, which were unfamiliar. I knew enough to know that I wasn’t at my home and then I realized my head wasn’t on my pillow either. I was lying on him. He was asleep just as I had been. His features were relaxed and at peace.
As I took in the details of his handsome face, I thought he was truly a specimen; all male and delicious. The grey hairs sprinkled at his temple only made him look more distinguished and made me want to wake him in a way that would be satisfying to him but being this was our first time together, I didn’t want to be too forward. Even though we both know why we came back here together. It wasn’t for coffee, or wine, or to listen to music as he suggested.
I looked at the time on the clock on his cable box and realized it was safe to head out and not get jacked since it would be light outside shortly. But when I made a move to grab my shoes from next to the couch and put them on, he stirred beside me.
I watched as he looked around and then he noticed me sitting there staring at him. “I guess I’m a poor host, huh,” he mumbled around his smile.
“You were alright. It seems we both fell asleep for a few hours.”
He looked at the time and then back at me with hot intensity before he said, “Then I guess I should let you go, right.”
“Yeah, I’ll be going.” But neither of us made a move to get up, we just looked at each other. The air between us was crackling with some force that I couldn’t describe. It was not something I’ve experienced before and I didn’t want to examine the why either.
He reached out for my face, his hot palms engulfing it as I leaned forward to accept his kiss that was sweet as it was hot.
Okay, this is where I admit that I was a bit nervous. Yes, I accepted his offer to come back to listen to some music knowing full darn well he wasn’t talking about the kind that required any metal or wood instruments. And yes, I strutted up into his beautifully decorated condo like a big girl with not one insecurity. And trust me, I didn’t have many anyway, but he was older. I mean judging by what I can see, old enough to maybe not be my dad since my parents are in their mid-sixties but shoot, maybe an older cousin or uncle or something. You get my point. And here I was with about six good years of sexual experience to his probably twenty-five. But I’d pretend I had enough experience if it killed me.
But it didn’t kill me unless I considered how out of breath I was with him standing in the middle of the floor with my ass now situated inside of the big palms of his hands that lifted me up and down on his hot hard shaft. My legs, wrapped around his waist, provided me with some leverage to do some arching, twisting and rocking but mostly he handled it and me like a pro. He was so damn thick and ready and I was so wet for him. Wet enough that I could feel my essence ooze out of me on each impale.
I never had a man do this to me and I admit that all my jitters were now gone as he pulled me back and forth hard and harder, manipulating my body so expertly that the tension building had to release somehow, someway or I would die … I exploded around him, screaming out a strangled cry, falling apart in his secure hold. He paused then, allowing me a moment to stop shaking, and I noticed that the only sign of his hard work were the beads of perspiration on his brow and the clench of his jaw, but he had amazing stamina, which dispelled a myth I held about older men.
He leaned into me, the taste of my honey from being spread open by his mouth earlier, in his kiss. I accepted the unique flavor and his tongue before he let me down to get on my unsteady feet.
I stood there grinning at him like an idiot and to my credit, he grinned too before he said, “How was that for starters?”
Excerpt from Begin Again by Angel
Plopping down on one of the leather chairs, Malva let out a deep breath. She was exhausted but she had gotten everything set up as she wanted it. She could now start working whenever she chose. The door opened, startling her and a man walked inside. Hurriedly, she stood, flipping on the lights with a remote. Soft lighting filled the room and she could see a tall, bulky but fit man with milk chocolate skin and bald head. Her breath literally caught in her throat.
“Can I help you?” Malva asked. The man stood, staring at her openly before responding.
“Good evening, I am Desmond Trainor. I own the lighting shop next door. I heard I had a new neighbor and wanted to drop in. I have been traveling the past couple of weeks.”
“I am Malva, Malva Oscar and welcome to my small studio. I’m an artist and I’m planning shows and there will also be art for sale, African, mostly Ethiopian, since that is my home and African American.” She said quickly.
“That’s cool. There are several cool shops moving in. I specialize in unique lighting. I also sell standard lighting to contractors. Next to me is a Middle Eastern grocery store that also has a restaurant and next to that is a shop that specializes in ethnic toys. What’s the name of your place?”
“I have no idea.” Malva admitted. “I thought of The Artist’s Lair…”
“That’s catchy. My spot is Get Lit… would you like to take a look?”
“Sure, let me grab my bag and lock up. I’m tired anyway.” She said and gathered her things feeling self-conscious. Desmond’s eyes were all over her.
Walking into his shop Malva gasped at the lighting and how he had everything arranged. He had removed the second floor and the ceilings were over twenty feet high. There were lighting fixtures, table lamps, floor lamps, outside lighting, and floor lighting. More than she ever knew there was to light.
“Oh, my goodness, this is amazing! How does one decide to have a business such as this?” Malva asked as she turned to face Desmond and she startled because he was only inches away from her and smelled of man, soap and French cologne.
“My dad was an electrician and trained me as a young kid. I was always fascinated by lights and lighting. I majored in history, believe it or not, but this was always what I wanted and aspired to. Most of my clients build homes and want something unique but I also have a nice clientele who roll through and shop for lamps and such. There is also significant online purchasing. I travel the world looking for unique lighting. You are so damn pretty.”
“Thank you. I need to go. I’m so hungry…” Malva said, suddenly feeling heated.
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