CHARLENE BROWN~
“Hey Baby.” He whispered as he slid into bed beside her.
Charlene played possum until she felt safe and out of lust's way.
“Baby, you up?” Her eyes shut tighter. After huffing and puffing
about her unresponsiveness he gave up and turned over away from
her. There would be no spooning tonight. One eye popped open,
the right eye, the eye closest to the pillow. He couldn't see it if he
tried because it was the one that could be closed the fastest if
threatened. 2:13 a.m.! No he didn't! She wanted to turn over and
give him a piece of her mind but decided against it. After all, she
was supposed to be asleep. If she woke up she would be forced to
perform. Morning was arriving quickly and this could wait until
then....
DENISE MCLEOD~
...When she snapped out of dreamland, her tears were still fresh from
Derek's lying. And suddenly, the faucet was turned on. The handles were
broken and she had no way to turn it off! But why was she crying so much?
Denise allowed her mind to relax so an answer could pop up and when it
did she wailed!
“No! Stop! You're hurting me!” With a gun in her back he threw her down in
a remote, brush-filled area of the park. Her attacker instructed her to “shut-
up!” and “be quiet!” Denise was being raped by a man with a familiar voice.
Was it the store clerk who'd always hit on her? She didn't know.
But from that horrifying, life-altering experience, came her first born son,
Darren, who would never know his father. After giving birth to her beautiful
baby boy, her body would never be as it was intended. Denise was
pregnant off and on for the next twelve years...
...Denise's tears looked like trails of salt running the length of her face.
She hadn't thought much about the men who impregnated her until today
when she had to relive the past, all because her last child's father was a
liar. Her thoughts brought her right back to Derek, Donavon's father. Derek
was all but good. He was a rough neck and Denise found that to be one of
the most attractive things ever. He spent money on her and she liked him
for it. Her hair and nails were always done. She wore the nicest clothes and
carried the prettiest handbags. Her make-up was even flawless because
he'd bought the best there was to conceal the bruises he'd put on her....
MICHELLE BAKER~
“What do you have on?” He asked.
“It's just a skirt and a shirt, Lionel.”
“It's whore clothes! That's what it is and you are probably trying to go
whoring around when I'm gone to work! Now go take it off!”
“Lionel, it is not that serious. You need to just calm down baby. Okay?”
Michelle knew that she had a nut-job for a husband. They had only been
married eight months and he was always the possessive type. Michelle
figured that she could change him or maybe the wedding would make
everything alright. But that was far from the truth. In fact, it was so much
the opposite that she coaxed herself into believing the way he acted was a
direct result of his undying love for her. Punch! Slap! “Ouch! Nooo! Lionel
what did I do? I didn't do nothing!”
“Shut up bitch! You know what you did! Smart mouthing me! Telling me
you ain't taking off them clothes. I'll be damned! Yes you are! Now go and
do it right now!” He pushed her around the house rag doll-style and she
allowed it. Her fear was as much an abuser as Lionel. The only difference
was it didn't leave bruises and marks. Fear would grip her, hold her
hostage, and not release her until it got good and ready. It was just as
strong if not stronger than her husband. She stood up to neither of the two
bullies because the intimidation they carried proved to be much larger in
stature than she....
KATRINA DANGERFIELD~
“Excuse me, Beautiful? Can I buy you a drink or is this seat taken?”
Katrina looked down at the empty seat first before fixing her gaze on the
dark piece of chocolate decadence. Her mouth was open. Open to
possibilities. Open to refusals. And if she didn't close her mouth it would be
open to drooling. Alex was one of those brothers who could make a
woman's heart stop beating with just his entrance.
“Uh…?” Katrina took another sip of her room-temperature ginger ale to
clear her throat. She put her game face on. “First of all Mr.” She softly said
in a cute way with a twinge of attitude.
“Alex. My name is Alex Seymour and yours?” He held out his hand for
her to shake and when she lifted hers to oblige him, he kissed it.
“Well,” she blushed. “My name is Katrina Dangerfield and I am happy to
meet you Alex.” Katrina grew more nervous by the second. This man did
indeed stir up her pot of juices and she knew it. She just didn't like that her
vulnerability made her feel weak. Besides, she was CFO of a major
marketing company and she called the shots. Who was this guy? Who did
he think he was making her feel all warm and fuzzy inside? No one was
supposed to make her yearn for love like this....
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