Hey reading family! Today I’m bringing you the first sample from STROKE Heavy On The D Book 3! Let me know how you’re feeling in the comments. Are you ready for this story? Sound off!
The first time I ran into her, it was almost two months ago in the parking lot of the skating rink. I was exiting my Genesis G90 when I noticed Brandy sitting in the front seat of her Infiniti, looking straight ahead, her eyes spaced out, with no intentions to go inside.
I was drawn to her—Brandy Collier is how she introduced herself when we first met a month before that. But this night, we were attending our high school reunion, and I no longer had a need to go inside after seeing her alone, a troubling spirit resting over her by the despair in her eyes.
I tapped at her window lightly, and she blinked, then turned to me.
“Could you use some company?”
A soft smile gave me hope. For what reasons, I didn’t understand, but I heard the doors unlock, and that was my cue to slip inside.
In her passenger seat, I spoke to Brandy.
“Are you okay?”
Her shoulders rose and fell, then she blinked, looking at me.
My gaze dropped. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”
We were silent a minute—me watching her—she, trying to grab her train of thought as she shifted and blinked.
“I’ve been better.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She glanced at me. “Why do you care?”
It came out with a sting, but I didn’t feel the burn.
“I don’t know. But… I do.”
Her brows rose, and she smirked. “I like your honesty. There’s not much of that going around these days.”
“There’s more than enough. It’s whether people decide to use it or not that remains in question.”
She inhaled a deep breath, her chest rising and falling.
“I’m going through a divorce, Michael.” I didn’t respond outwardly, but my gut tightened, my jaw locked, and I suddenly felt my heart plummet. I can admit, the feeling was an uncanny one. Why was I unintentionally destroyed for her by this news?
“Fifteen years of my life—gone.” She was silent, and I continued to leave Brandy the space to get her thoughts off her chest without interruption. “We were in love, and there was no doubt we would spend our lives together. Then in the matter of one year, everything changed.” She paused, but I desperately wanted her to go into detail about their life. Still, I tried to understand why I was invested in her story. But that answer eluded me.
“I’ve always been the type to keep my calendar filled with appointments, deadlines, proposals, events, you name it.” She smiled softly—a reflexive reaction more than sincere mirth. “Now, for the first time ever, I don’t know what to do with my life. My calendar, while still filled with such activities, doesn’t give me the same energy as before.” She licked her strawberry-painted lips. “I suddenly don’t care.”
We sat in more silence then, “I go about my business taking on those tasks anyway, but I still don’t care.”
“It’s okay not to care.” She stared at me. “It’s important to feel what you feel—to sit in that experience, recognize it, understand it for what it is, then lift your head, your shoulders, your heart, and move forward.”
This time her smile was genuine. “That sounds good, but…”
“I didn’t say you had to do it all immediately. Regardless of how long your process takes, those steps have to be implemented for the betterment of your soul.”
“Are you a therapist?”
I chuckled, my gaze driving over her ebony face, her lips, before shaking off my appraisal to rejoin her eyes.
“I’m not a therapist. A life lesson learned…and, I practice yoga. My instructor is a therapist. She’s good about talking to us, the group, when we’re in a session about life’s conflicts, resolutions, and anything else that comes to mind. It adds to the serenity of the class.”
“Wait.” Her smirk rose. “You practice yoga?”
“I’ll have you know yoga was practiced by men initially before women took over.”
“Hmmm. I’ll have to look into that.”
“Go right ahead. When you do, let me know that I was right.”
She laughed, and I took in a breath, happy that she’d experienced contentment, however short-lived the moment was.
Brandy glanced around the parking lot. “You better get inside before your boys come looking for you.”
“I could say the same for you.”
I watched her, but she didn’t go on, only sat in silence, her eyes dimming again. Minutes passed then, “I could use something to drink. But I don’t feel like being in a crowd.”
“So, we should go somewhere quiet and get something to drink.”
She looked at me. “You and I?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“I’m not trying to take you away from the festivities.”
“It’s a high school reunion. I’m hardly thrilled to go inside and see what people I haven’t seen in twenty years are up to.”
She laughed, and my heart rejoiced again.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s up to you but, why not?”
We stared at each other for a minute when her eyes fell to my lips. A spark of energy ran through my core, driving down to my dick.
What the fuck, Michael? I thought.
She shrugged. “Let’s do it.”
“I’ll drive,” I said.
“Good, because I hadn’t planned to.”
We laughed, and I exited her car, opened her door, and helped her into my Genesis.
Brandy and I had spent the night secluded on the outside deck of a lounge. She was unaware, but I’d paid extra to have the owner close the area off to anyone other than us. It was what she needed. For the remainder of that night, we had small talk while we drank. I was fine with the small talk. It was unnecessary to bring up heavy topics when relaxation was what I wanted for her. Since then, we’d barely spoken. A few times here and there, mostly business as Brandy was interested in buying a house, and I was her realtor.
The real estate market in Atlanta was promising, but Brandy had specific needs, and so far, nothing I’d come across sparked her interest.
Now, however, I was in a rush to flag Brandy down after seeing her on the road. We were on the highway, and again, I’d noticed her suddenly, two cars over and one ahead. She had a slow leaking tire. It was almost flat, but it was unbeknownst to her as she shot off the ramp in a rush to get somewhere important by the velocity of her speed.
I followed her, jumping in front of vehicles, and sliding off the ramp just in time before it was too late to exit.
I caught up to Brandy, quickly gliding around a corner as I followed her in tow. I focused on what I could see from her appearance through her back window and rearview mirror. Brandy’s hair hung down to her shoulders, and foundation was softly applied on her face. But what stood out most was her eyes. They were lined with black eyeliner and powdered with shimmery gold.
I wondered where she was going. Where was she in a rush to get to this late evening looking as if she were ready for a night on the town?
That’s none of your business Michael.
Sure, it wasn’t. But I still wanted to know, nonetheless. Another fifteen minutes down the road, and I made up my mind to try and softly cut her off. What I didn’t want for sure was her tire to give in and blow, causing an accident that could hurt her or anyone else.
Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to make that move as she made a left turn, cut down a corner, and pulled into the parking lot of The Den.
The Den was a famous upscale all-male strip club, often frequented by women too and fro in Atlanta. And while women visited for entertainment. It wasn’t the only entertainment the club offered. If you were on the list, you were able to explore a risqué retreat of rooms—engagements for the sole purpose of fulfilling your every desire.
I never knew if those whispers were true until one of the fellas—Eric, confirm that it was indeed. I can admit that seeing Brandy enter the parking lot tighten my stomach—my gut in a knot.
And my reasoning for caring remained a mystery. Now that we were here, I felt a bit awkward letting her know that her tire was flat. But here we were, and I didn’t plan to leave until I helped her out.
Get book 1 > https://amzn.to/3gaGcHx
Get book 2 > https://amzn.to/3p1eot3