Friday, July 25, 2014

Hard Heat: A Chronicles of Cashmere Series- Don't Listen

1- Lunch...Dates

                Harlow knew this wasn't the best idea.  By all appearances she was at a work lunch with one of her new colleagues, Michael Dean.  They were getting acquainted and discussing an account they were working on.  "Getting acquainted' lunches were happening frequently with Michael, but Harlow had this feeling in her gut that he was seeking more.  It was the same feeling she had about the woman who took over her position at Forte.  A woman she met in London with Christaphor.  A woman who couldn't keep her eyes off of him.  A woman who seemed very much like Christaphor in that she was worldly and 'business oriented'.  A woman who quit her job in London and moved to New York to work with the amazing Christaphor Halo.
Now Harlow was a seemingly sane woman who didn't believe the world was after she or her...boyfriend.  Her lover.  She didn't know how to define Christaphor, it was all so intense.
Harlow just had her gut feelings about things.   Perhaps she was being a bit 'extra' because of the sudden breakup of her brother Gibson and Jacobi.  They seemed perfect for each other, but out of the blue she says she is in love with someone and moving to Vermont.
 Harlow is shaken from her thoughts as Michael touches her hand...

"I'm sorry I am boring you, going on and on.  Please, tell me how your first month is going." He doesn't remove his hand so Harlow is unsure how to remove hers.  She didn't want to seem rude, but she also didn't want to lead him on.

She laughs and slides her hand from under his immediately using it to fix her hair, "You were not boring me at all.  I appreciate you making sure I am comfortable and getting settled.  My month has been great; I am learning so much."

"Good.  We are lucky to have you-"

"Michael Dean and Harlow Johns, what a surprise?"  Harlow had to tell herself to breathe when she heard Christaphor's voice.  Though it showed no wayward emotion, she just knew he was upset.  When their eyes met, she swore she saw flames instead of his usual copper beauties.

"Le Pristine is the industry hot spot I guess..."  Michael says, he winks at Harlow.

"Well I won't keep you, just wanted to stop by and say 'hello'."  Christaphor smiles at the both of them and walks over to a table with four other people seated at, including 'the woman', Jennifer Haynes.  Jennifer's blue eyes light up when Christaphor takes his seat next to her, she places a hand on his upper arm and leans close to his ear to tell him something.  Harlow tries not to stare.

"Wow, that wasn't awkward... your old boss-"  Michael says distracting Harlow from her staring and trying to mentally stab Jennifer.

"I left on good terms besides my replacement seems to be fitting in just fine."  She quickly looks back at Christaphor and Jennifer, who has a hand on his shoulder and is laughing about something.  Suddenly Harlow's phone vibrates.  She looks down to see a text message from Christaphor.

"Take that...I have to go to the little boys room...b r b."  Michael winks at Harlow again and heads for the back of the restaurant.

Harlow sighs and reads the text: If he touches you again I will make it so he is unable to touch anyone or anything again.

Christaphor Halo wasn't a crazed jealous man, but he was proprietary about what he considered his.  Harlow was definitely no object, but in their month together he was in love with her, so much so he wanted them living together already.  Harlow laughed at this.  She had fallen for him as well, but all these 'fancy free feelings' were new to her and she didn't want to fall on her face.
Though Christaphor was everything she wanted, he still had his moments where she wanted to run and hide and forget this whole affair.

She quickly types back: Stop.  If you want to play that game- is my replacement replacing me in all things?
She clicks send.
 Harlow smiles satisfied that she hadn't totally lost her spunk, her brother makes fun of her for becoming a tamed kitten since meeting Christaphor.

The phone vibrates in her hand.  Harlow's smile grows wider until she see's that Christaphor is no longer sitting at his table. She also notices that Michael is returning to their table.

Christaphor's text reads: I am in the unisex handicap bathroom. Come here.  Now.

Harlow's eyes go wide.  Her breath quickens.  She tucks her phone into her purse and looks up at Michael, "My turn.  Be right back."
He smiles and touches her shoulder as she passes his seat.

Harlow had no idea what kind of argument was awaiting her in this unisex bathroom, but she knew it would have to be a quick one because she had deadlines.  She knocks on the door-then it was all like a whirlwind.  She is pulled into the bathroom, her purse is taken and put on a counter- then Christaphor's eyes meet hers and there was a silent understanding about what was going to happen here.
He turns her around to face the faux marble wall and licks the shell of her ear, he then whispers, "I don't like being jealous, Harlow."
He slides her pencil skirt up her thighs and then begins to massage her warm, luscious flower with his two long fingers.
Harlow moans, "I don't like being jealous...either...Christaphor..."  She gasps when he slides her delicate undergarments to the side.  She hears his zipper and before she could fully comprehend that she was about to have sex in a public restroom- he was fully inside her, so deep she almost orgasmed that instant.  She begins clawing at the smooth cool walls, one of his larger hands intertwines with hers while the other is holding her to him, a hand splayed on her tummy.  He tugs her back with each deep thrust, one of Harlows hands moves to the back of his head and tugs at his close cropped hair.
 His warm breath in her ear, "I love you."
Though she would rather be no where else, but here right now fucking Christaphor in a fancy New York City bathroom, Harlow wasn't sure this 'first time he said I love you' moment would be one she wanted to share with her grandchildren...or with anyone.

2- The Replacement

                The rest of the day seemed like a blur for Harlow.  She was so deep in her thoughts.  Then a flash of what happened at Le Pristine would make her blush...then she would feel uneasy about it again.  The unease came from how unaffected Christaphor seemed after their...intense interlude.  Did he even know he said that he loved her or were all things forgotten when he came.
He went back to his table and cracked a joke that made everyone laugh, Jennifer laughed the loudest of course.  While Harlow tried to say anything to Michael besides: I just fucked my boyfriend in the bathroom!

After a few meetings and thought clearing walks to Starbucks with her new co-workers, Harlow decided to email Christaphor.  She felt writing to him would be far better than saying anything face to face...because more than likely there wouldn't be much speaking and just a lot of wonderful things that would make her forget why they needed to talk.
Sure she was an adult and enjoyed those wonderful things...these were real feelings that she was dealing with.  Feelings she felt unfamiliar with as she had never been in love.
Harlow sat in her office for a bit contemplating how to begin her email.  She didn't want it to be a novella about her feelings, Christaphor was a man of few words and she gathered he showed his feelings with his actions.  The fact that he wanted to spend every waking moment with her when he wasn't working, should be enough.
She decides that fewer flowery words and getting straight to the point was the thing to do....


This afternoon-though wonderful (as always)- was very intense.  I need time to process everything.  I know you wanted to me join you in San Francisco this weekend for your conference, but I think we should use this time to really think about what we want.


She pressed 'send' and leaned back in her chair.  This weekend she would not only process this whole 'relationship' thing, but catch up on work accounts.  As she was about to send Michael an email to re-send some samples she needed, an email from Christaphor pops up.


I am a glad things were to your liking though not good enough to keep you from running away.  You want space to 'process' the fact that  I love you?  You need to figure out if you feel the same or if this is just great sex.  Take the weekend and get back to me when you have fully processed everything.


For a man of few words, Harlow felt when he was tapped, Christaphor could be quite the wordsmith.  He overwhelmed her with how straight forward he was.  There was no game- so why couldn't she just trust it.  She felt a pang of hurt, but she wanted this.  She wanted the space...she wanted to process...but oh she wanted him.


You know I feel the same I am just not used to feeling this way.  Thank you for the... space.



                             It was weird for her to be alone in her apartment without anticipating Christaphor coming over to make dinner and for them to discuss their day.  Harlow distracted herself with work until the urge to email Christaphor took over and she began an email to him.  The twenty-four hours of no communication was long enough.  He didn't even respond to the last email she sent to him.  In this battle of wills, he was clearly in the lead.
As she opened her Gmail she sees an email from a former colleague and friend at Forte, Jillian Jacks.


Long time no see, bitch!  When are we going for drinks?  We can't this weekend because I am stuck here in San Francisco for this conference with the delicious CHRISTAphor Halo and that new British bimbo ass they hired to replace you.  I don't know if its the Cali breezes but her skirts are shorter than the usual- anyways we have an office pool here going to see how long it take for those two to start banging.  She is like what comes up when he types: date for tonight.
Enough about me.  Let's get together soon so I can gossip with my favorite bitch!


Harlow wanted to take her laptop and toss it across the room.  Instead, she paced in her living room trying to get thoughts of Christaphor and Jennifer together...out of her head.  Wasn't the beginning of their...tryst...affair on a business trip?
Two knocks on her door, Harlow jumps a little.  It was nine at night, who would be stopping by without calling first.  She realized this wasn't the Victorian ages and that she just needed open the door and get over it.  When she did she sees Christaphor with his elegant overnight bag.  Harlow steps back in shock, he steps into the apartment and closes the door behind him.

3- The End?

               Christaphor wasn't a fearful man.  He wasn't a man who chased a woman or said 'I love you' at all.  He told his mom he loved her, but that was his mom.  This thing with Harlow took him out of his comfort zone and unlike most he enjoyed that.  Especially because he knew the risk would be worth it.
He pulls her to him and leans in to kiss her, when their lips meet it was almost electrical.  His bag drops to the floor and they make their way to the couch that they have 'christened' many times before.  She begins pushing away from him though...

"Stop...please..."  Harlow places a hand on Christaphor's broad chest.  He looks at her with questioning eyes...and did she see fear flash in them for a second.


"Because this....isn't space."  He let's go of her.  It was almost as if she punched him in the gut.  Harlow was a ball of emotions- she was elated he was there, she was angry about the Jennifer thing, she wanted him to leave, she wanted him to hold her...."I am glad you are here, I was just about to write you..."

He steps closer to her, "Good.  I saved you the keystrokes."  His arms are around her again, she slowly wraps her arms around his waist.  "I tried giving you space and I figured I had given you enough."

She sighs and kisses his chin, he smiles. "I think we should break up..."  Harlow didn't know why the words escaped her lips, but the fear of being so in love with Christaphor and then him leaving her for her 'replacement' wasn't something she could deal with.  First loves are a bitch.
Christaphor had been staring at her this whole time, mouth open staring.  Wordlessly, he gathers his elegant weekend bag and leaves Harlow standing in the middle of her now dim feeling living room, feeling lonely for the first time ever in her life.  What did she just do?

The End...for now.  We will catch up with Harlow and Christphor in Don't Let Go in a few weeks!!!  #BeachReads

Friday, July 18, 2014

Hard Heat: A Chronicles of Cashmere Series- Calliente Thunder

More of my summer ROOOOMANCE series....enjoy!

1- A Reunion?

                     The radio crackled out "Locked Out of Heaven" (Bruno Mars), but it didn't distract D'Angelo Santos from the task at hand-repairing a car that had been in a bad wreck over the weekend.  He learned to tune everything out and just focus on the car.  There were few things he enjoyed more than repairing cars; that and making art out of scrap metal.
He doesn't lower the volume or hear that his name is being called.

"D!"  The shop manager, Kevin, yells for the third time.  It was a charm because D'Angelo finally hears him and slides from under the wrecked Toyota Camry.

"Yeah?" D'Angelo makes no effort to sit up, he figured this would be a quick conversation and he could get back to what he was doing.

"The Camry owners girl is here she wants to hear what has to be done to the car and how long it will take-"

"Why don't you tell her then..."

Kevin rolls his eyes, "I tried but she wants to hear from the person actually fixing the car- I guess she's still freaked out about what happened.  Hey, no one died-"  He shrugs.  D'Angelo slowly stands and was ready to short answer this woman till she was so frustrated she left him alone.  He stretches to his full 6'3" frame and strides over to the front office area of the garage.  The greasy rag almost fell from his hands when he saw Jacobi Garrett's profile.  She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  Mocha colored skin that glowed, hair was always in a high bun-that he loved releasing and watching it fall onto her shoulders, pouty lips that were his favorite to kiss- and then she turns her head when she feels his presence, her cat-like brown eyes widen a little and her pouty lips part.  She lets out a quick breath.

"Jacobi..."  He says with his usual deep rumble, a voice accented by both a Spanish and New York accent.  Jacobi felt her heart thud.  There he was, D'Angelo Santos, the man she never thought she'd lay eyes on again.  The man she left standing on the corner in Brooklyn's Park Slope as it rained.  It was like a scene from a movie.  Stoic man, emotional woman, rain.  It was year ago she realized she didn't like how vulnerable he made her feel; she was so in love with him.  He was an unstable artist who loved her like no other would-so of course she left him before he left her, and before she entered her 30's and wondered why she was living off ramen noodles in a loft with six other people.

"D'Angelo...uh, hi...what, what are you doing here?"  She steps back when he moves closer to her.  She knew that if he touched her once, she would be done for.

"I work here.  I take it you're the person who wanted to hear it straight from the horses to say."  He smirks revealing his one dimple.  Jacobi was the only person he knew that could be so anal, but then have the freest spirit.  Of course the harder side of her always won out- it was the side that broke his heart.  He crosses his arms over his broad chest, mostly to protect himself because he wanted to hold her and forget about how she broke him into a million pieces.

"'s car- the car you're working on- I need to know how long this repair will take.  We are only visiting this area and he will be out of the hospital soon-"  She tended to ramble on when nervous.  D'Angelo wasn't making this easier for her, he let her go on and just stared at her as if he were watching paint dry.

"Two weeks."  He says, and then he adds, "You're actually dating a guy who drives a Toyota Camry?"  He chuckles and shakes his head as he walks away.  He left Jacobi standing there unable to come up with a witty reply, until...

"What are you doing here?  What happened to your art?"  For some reason she didn't like watching him walk away, and this couldn't be it.  She had to know how he was doing, even though she had no right to know.  He stops walking, but doesn't turn around...

"You're asking a lot of questions for someone who left me and has a boyfriend who was just in a car accident.  I bet he has a job with insurance and everything."  He turns to look at her.

"You were a great sculptor, I just hope you're still creating..."

"Please stop."  He walks away, leaving her this time.  When D'Angelo is alone he throws the rag and wants to pick up the Camry and toss it.
The one thing he held on to was that he'd see her one last two weeks.  He hoped that would be it, but deep down he knew he would always want to see her and be with her.  Would he have to spend the next two weeks repairing her boyfriend's car and plotting ways on how to keep her here with him?

2- The Storm

                   As Jacobi entered Gibson's hospital room, she heard voices; and revealed his sister Harlow and her boyfriend- he was really a manfriend- Christaphor.  Harlow stood at Gibson's bedside and Christaphor was in a dark corner of the room occasionally checking his phone but mostly watching Harlow.  This reinforced what Jacobi called him in her head 'The Dark Knight'.  He seemed to always find the darkest parts of a room and just watch Harlow, and the minute she hinted at wanting anything he was there with it.  It was fascinating to watch-

"Jacobi! Hey!"  Harlow comes towards her ready to hug.  Jacobi sighed as she hugged Harlow back noticing what a difference 'love' made to the formerly 'non-touchy feely' Harlow.

"Hi Harlow...Christaphor."  Jacobi goes to other side of Gibson's bed and squeezes his hand.

"You okay?"  Gibson asks.  Jacobi hated how well he could read her, but there was no way she was going to inform him that she ran into the love of her life and he hates her...and that that hurts her.  She couldn't admit to this man who was perfect for her that she wanted nothing more than to run back to that car garage and kiss D'Angelo all over his handsome face.

"Fine- just left the garage and they say that the car won't be fixed for another two weeks."

"That's a long time to be stuck here..."  Harlow says.

" I can helicopter you back to New York and send for the car in two weeks."  Christaphor says in his true Dark Knight fashion.  He emerges from the dark corner and stands beside Harlow.  She immediately takes his hand and looks up at him in a way that causes him to blush.  Jacobi was truly fascinated by their pairing.

"That sounds amazing- the doc says I will be ready for release in two days tops."  Gibson says.

"Great, then it's a plan.  We helicopter in two days."  Jacobi says.  She felt it was for the best, the quicker she was away from D'Angelo the better.  She would never have to see him again. Unknowingly, she frowns.  Gibson squeezes her hand and she immediately smiles.


                     The night before Jacobi and Gibson were going helicopter back to New York, Jacobi decided she needed a break from the hospital and Gibson's hands on family.  Christaphor made sure everyone made it to and from Vermont and New York.
Jacobi was blasting "Warm Winds" by SZA in her rental car, she was just driving away from the hospital and the garage, everything.  She was fine before she ran into D'Angelo.  Complacent.  Looking at vacation homes in Vermont with Gibson pretending it was everything she wanted.  Everything she wanted was probably under a car.  Everything she wanted was unpredictable and touched her like he was amazed every time.
Suddenly there is a downpour so Jacobi pulls over on the side of the road when she was no longer able to see the road ahead of her.  After a few moments she realizes she is parked down a path from a quaint looking home- so far the residents of Vermont have been neighborly, whomever lived here might surely let her wait the storm out.
Wrapping her cardigan around her and the skimpy summer dress she had on, she made a run for the house.  Once under the patio she realized that if this proved to be a bad idea, she would just have to shiver it out in her car.
She knocks twice on the front door.  She couldn't hear any movement due to the wind and rain.  Suddenly the door opens revealing D'Angelo.  Jacobi's mouth drops.

"Well, well...what can I do for you, Jacobi?"  He leans against the door frame and crosses his muscular brown arms across his broad chest.  The smirk on his face made Jacobi take a step back.  D'Angelo didn't believe in that "Secret' crap, but maybe someone was onto to something.  He just had an urgency to see Jacobi- the rain always made him think of her.

"I didn't know you lived here...I have to go-"  As she goes to step away, D'Angelo gently grabs her arm.

"No, you're not going out in that.  Come in."  He guides her into his home.  Seeing the warm colors mixed with his sculptures...including one that almost look like her- made tears moisten her eyes.  Just walking into D'Angelo's home was like a hug she longed for.

"This is...nice..."  She says.

"Thank you.  Can I get you anything?  I have the green tea you like..."

Jacobi begins shaking her head, "I can't do this...I can't be here..."

"You can stand out on the patio if you'd like till the storm stops."  Just when he thought she couldn't hurt him anymore- he wasn't just beneath her, his home was too.  No matter what though, he didn't want her traveling in the matter if she was so disgusted by him, loving her was something he stopped fighting a long time ago.  So deep in thought he didn't notice she had placed herself in front of him.  Her glorious eyes pleading for something...

"D'Angelo it's not for the reasons you think- I never stopped loving you.  I will always love you.  I just...I am so scared that if you ever didn't want or love's devastating.  I'm sorry...."  D'Angelo couldn't believe what he just heard, as Jacobi turns to go towards his front door, he stops her by pulling her close to his body.  Her back to his hard chest, his arms wrapped around her full breasts.  She gasps.  His hot breath on her ear he whispers, "I have never stopped loving you, mi amor..."

D'Angelo turns Jacobi to him and kisses her hard and passionately.  He tugs at her bun so that her hair slowly falls down to the middle of her back.  He kisses Jacobi breathless.
"I have missed you so, mi amor"  He says in between kisses on her neck.  He lifts her so her shapely legs are wrapped around his waist.
"I have missed you love."  Jacobi moans.  At that moment D'Angelo knew they would never make it to his bedroom.  He roughly leans Jacobi's back against the wall closest to the sculpture he called "Mine" which was basically Jacobi's silhouette.
Thankfully Jacobi was wearing a dress so D'Angelo ripped her lacey boycut underwear and began massaging the place he wanted to spend hours reconnecting with.  She moans and grows wetter.  This causes him to throb with anticipation, just wanting to lose himself in her.
He feels her using her feet to maneuver his drawstring lounge pants down.  He chuckles, "You want this..."  He rubs the tip of his manhood against her causing her to writhe...
"Yes, please..." she moans, " I need it, D."  With that he slides into her, stretching her, gritting his teeth because she felt so good.  The heat of his manhood caused Jacobi to arch her back and slide herself down to his base causing him to grunt.
"I am going to fuck till you can't go back to your Toyota Camry life..." D'Angelo bites Jacobi's earlobe and she nips at his neck in response.

3- Leaving

                        The next morning Jacobi was awakened by the smell of coffee and the constant ringing of her cellphone.  She realized she was on a bed, nude and had no idea where the phone was- till she looked over at the nightstand beside the bed.  Gibson's smiling face appeared on the phone screen, she presses the answer button though she had no idea what she would say...

"Gibson...hey..."  Her voice was husky with sleep though she had no idea when she or D'Angelo fell asleep, much less made it to the bed.  She felt horrible, Gibson didn't deserve this...

He audibly sighs, "Jacobi!  Thank goodness...with the storm...and I couldn't get in contact with you..."

"I'm sorry I didn't call you- I had to hide out from the storm."  She feels eyes on her and looks into D'Angelo's handsome face.  He handed her a mug of coffee and then left the bedroom.  "Listen, are you set for heading back to New York?"

"No I'm not because you are not here.  Where are you?  We'll come and get you."

"No, no...I'll come to you."  She gulps her coffee.  Traveling would give her time to think of what she was going to say or do.  She needed more time to figure out she and D'Angelo...and easily break Gibson's heart.  No matter what she had to go back to New York but how would she leave D'Angelo without him taking it personally?

" everything alright?" Gibson asks, always reading her so well.

"Fine, I'll see you soon."

"Come by the inn.  I'll be here with Harlow and The Dark Knight."  They both chuckle.  After hanging up, Jacobi bee-lines to D'Angelo's bathroom to shower and come up with a way to leave him...again.


                     After a soul searching shower, Jacobi finds D'Angelo on his couch reading.  He is shirtless and his long legs are covered in scrub-like pants.  He looks up from his book, his eyes following her every move.  She comes over to the couch and straddles him, this causes him to smile.

"You are leaving me...again."  As he spoke she could feel the deep rumble of his voice through her hands that were placed on his chest.

"I have to go back to New York and straighten out my life...I don't want to come to you a mess-"

"I'll take you any way...again."  He smiles, "You are going back with him?"

"Yes."  He frowns at her response, but begins squeezing and caressing her hips and backside as he thinks.

"I'll give you time to straighten things out...but you will come back to me."

Jacobi leans down to kiss his soft full lips, "I will always come back to you."

The End...for now.  We will catch up with D'Angelo and Jacobi soon, but next up we will check in on Harlow and Christaphor in Don't Listen.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Hard Heat: A Chronicles of Cashmere Series- Don't Speak

I've decided to give my three readers a treat since I have been slacking with my blogging- a summer rooooomance seriessss (said in Oprah voice).  Who doesn't like laying on a beach reading about throbbing parts?!  
So, I have decided to write a few short 'beach reads' stories for y'all- to get ya this heat.  Hmmm.  Anywho, enjoy.  Here is the first installment: Don't Speak- oh yeah this will be the perfect blend of cornball, my insane wit and filth.  #PerfectoBitches

1- Stop Before Start

                      Harlow stepped into the empty elevator eyes never leaving her smartphone screen.  She felt if she consistently checked for an email- it would come.  The email she was anticipating would be about a new job for a rival advertising company- she did the jump through hoops and interview thing.  The dinners and schmoozing, and now it came down to this one email letting her know if it was all for naught.  If this job didn't happen she didn't know what she would do-

"Harlow Johns, in the flesh."  His voice was low and wrapped around Harlow like a warm summer breeze.   Christaphor's voice both comforted and struck something deep in Harlow.  She looks up into his insistent coppery brown eyes.  Into the eyes of the reason she had to leave her current job.

"Good Morning Mr. Halo..."  Her voice deceives her by cracking.  She clears it and smiles when she thinks about his last name and the man she knows him to be.  Christaphor Halo was no angel.  He was an intelligent and ambitious man.  The youngest partner at Forte Agency, Christaphor was known for his integrity, being mysterious and his supreme cool.
Harlow also knew him as unrelenting in his pursuit of her.  She would never understand why; she wasn't denying that it was a thrill that scared the shit out of her.  So much so, she was actively looking for another job where a meek graphic designer could go from work to krav magra and then back to work again.  Her social life was limited, just as she liked it.  A few friends, a lover every now n' then and family obligations.  Harlow enjoyed her world of keeping people at a distance which she felt allowed her to control all of her circumstances- Christaphor Halo wanted to shake all of that up.  Ever since she sat in on a meeting for a new account a month ago it has been emails, random run-ins and more meetings where he sits and stares at her until her caramel skin is tomato toned.
Much like he was doing now....

"Christaphor."  A slow smile forms on his full lips.  "You are a hard woman to track down-it's almost like you're avoiding me."

Harlow felt as if the elevator was moving slower, she nervously laughs, "Avoiding?  I am just really busy with the new Rutledge account."  She was really just avoiding him.  Harlow was never fond of male attention- she liked the usual banter that led to some type of courtship followed by eventual dating that ended with a breakup usually because Harlow 'just didn't seem into it'.  This goes back to her keeping people at a distance.
Christaphor's subtle yet relentless approach threw Harlow off.  He would always stand a little too close to her and he always spoke to her like each word was meant to peel off a layer of clothing.  In fact, in this elevator that appeared to be moving slower, he was so close to her she could feel the heat coming from his body and smell the amazing cologne he wore.

"Speaking of Rutledge, they want us to come to their headquarters in London-"  He says.

"That's great.  London is great.  I'm sure you have been- it's a great city."  Harlow says wishing she was able to use more of her vast vocabulary.

"Great.  It will be you and I going-"  As he says this the elevator doors open and he begins to exit.  Harlow is still staring at where he was standing, slightly open mouthed.

2- London

                   The Savoy Hotel was elegant and refined like Christaphor Halo who stood inches away from Harlow.  This caused her breath to come out in spurts.  She was almost lulled by his voice as he spoke to the concierge; though his voice was low and deep she thought she heard they were sharing a room.  This broke her from her self-imposed stupor.

"Um...Christaphor...are there no other rooms?"  She asked immediately turning red when his coppery eyes fell upon her.  He smiles slowly.

"There are other rooms."  He turns back to continue with the concierge.  Harlow couldn't believe his confidence that she would be okay with this.  She avoided him during the plane ride, but now they would have it out in this room they would supposedly be sharing and then she would head to a pub and find another hotel to stay at.  Enough was enough.  First he makes sure that only she and he would go on this trip to London, and then he does everything in his power to make sure that Harlow couldn't get out of going with him to London.  Nothing he did was blatant so it wasn't as if she could file a complaint- though booking one room was a step in the 'obviously hitting on her' direction.
The thing that made Harlow the angriest was that she really didn't mind it- it was almost as if she wanted this.  She was intrigued by his confident power.  He was a man of few words who brought people to puddles, and for some reason he was almost vested in 'having her'.

"They will bring our bags up to our room, let's follow the bellhop up there...."  He holds out an arm for her to take.  She looks at it and him, and then follows the bellhop leaving him behind.  Christaphor catches up to her though, his presence felt at her shoulder.

They all enter the elevator silently.  The tension caused the bellhop to tap on the wood paneling as he nervously smiled at them.  Harlow knew her face was tight, she tried not to look at Christaphor's handsome face that she knew was looking at hers.  To say Christaphor was handsome was an understatement.  His skin was the color of honey; the honey colored lush and rugged features that were showcased by his sleepy brown eyes and full lips.  His 6'2" height was taller than Harlow's 5'5' and his build was lean-though she could tell he was muscular- Harlow quickly shakes her head and tries to hold on to being angry at him and not wanting to use this energy to do other things to him.  Or with him.

The elevator doors open and they all silently walk down the long carpeted hallway.  The bellhop stops at door marked PH 3.  Of course Christaphor Halo would stay in a penthouse.
As soon as Harlow is inside the large excellently designed suite, she walks into any other room that did not have Christaphor or the bellhop in it.  She wound up in the bedroom.  The four post king sized bed being the focal point  along with a balcony overlooking the Thames River.  The man had impeccable taste and seemed fairly capable at seduction- this made Harlow angrier.  She was a 'done deal' according to Christaphor.
Pacing while deep in angry thoughts, she didn't notice Christaphor had entered the room and was sitting in a high backed chair in the corner watching her.  Besides the feeling he gets when he sits in the midst of a brainstorming session for a new account- watching Harlow was his favorite thing to do.  He noticed her when he was VP with Forte, she was considered the best graphic designer in their field- though she didn't know that.  Quietly she worked her way up to director of the graphics department, all the while remaining humble and in her own world.
Her looks seemed to be an obvious reason for his unreasonable attraction to her at first sight.  She was curvy, with large almond shaped grey eyes that always seemed to look through him, her thick curly black hair he imagined tugging as he kissed her- Christaphor was used to noticing a woman who would then pursue him until he had enough time in his schedule to entertain himself...with her.  With Harlow everything was different.  He felt a connection to her, though they were vastly different they connected on some level- and then there was the fact that she avoided him.  He wasn't simple enough to want someone just because they seemed like they didn't want him, she wanted him, but he was intrigued as to why she was fighting it.
Right now, she appeared to be angry.  She bit her full bottom lip and paced in front of him, jiggling in places that caused Christaphor to shift in his seat.  He didn't want to speak and ruin this view, but he was afraid if this went on for too long he would pounce on her and fuck her on the bed that seemed to be calling for that.  That wouldn't be the best way to woo someone like Harlow, plus he needed her to know this was not going to be some 'water cooler/office gossip' affair.  This was going to be them together and him never having to wonder- or risk her finding someone else who would not be worthy of her because it wouldn't be him.

Harlow's 'anger parade' was cut short by Christaphor clearing his throat.  She didn't know he was there-just watching her.  The urge to go over to him and sit on his lap and play in his hair was strong, but she knew better-

"What the fuck is all this, Christaphor!"  She didn't move closer to him, that would be dangerous because he seemed like a jungle cat laying in wait in the tall grass.

He closes his eyes relishing her voice speaking his name, "I don't know.  This is why I thought we should share this suite and figure things out."

"You mean make it so I have to come to with you to London so you can fuck me and then check me off your list of conquests?"  She crosses her arms in front of her needing to hold herself up after seeing the look in Christaphor's shimmering eyes.  He slowly stands and begins walking towards her.  Harlow felt like she should move away but by the time she uncrosses her arms Christaphor has wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him.  His eyes never leaving hers as he takes a hand and begins caressing her cheek and jawline, he then slowly leans down and tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth.  She gives up all thoughts of running away and moans as she wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers slowly making their way into his hair.  He then kisses her showing her wordlessly how this wasn't some cheap dalliance.  His lips softly pecking hers till they opened and he could taste her.  Savoring her sweet flavor he fought hard to remain calm and not answer the animal inside him that wanted to be thrusting inside her already.  He knew he needed to take his time- and he wanted to.  He had to.  This is the moment where he had to win her over because his usual ways of confident strategy were going to send her running away.

Their bodies so close that even through their clothing they could feel each others body heat. Harlow could feel Christaphor's growing desire against her tummy.  This caused her to pull him with her towards the lovely made bed that awaited them.  He stopped kissing her with surprise and then began pulling off his blazer.  They both began pulling at their own clothes along with each other's.  Soon he is just his boxer briefs laying back on the plush bed  with his hands caressing and squeezing Harlow's full bare -due to a g-string- derriere as she kissed him and ground slowly on his abundant erection.  Her skin was so soft and warm-he never wanted anyone more in his life.
Heart beating too fast, Harlow couldn't believe she had Christaphor between her legs.  She knew the way they were communicating was just what had to happen for now.  She would think about the after, after.  Even if this was a one time thing, there would be no regrets on her part.  No way she could regret delving into her underused passionate side with a man she has wanted since his copper eyes first looked into hers.

She suddenly finds herself beneath him with all her undergarments off.  "I want you, Harlow." he whispers as he begins placing soft wet kisses down her body, soon his warm mouth is pleasuring her most sensitive area and as she grows wetter he moans and continues the slow licks to her lush precious flower.  One hand tugged at the bedspread and her other massaged the top of his head- "Christaph....", she could barely get his name out as she came, and just when she thought she was done another wave of unfurled tension rolled through her.  The sounds she made almost made him lose control, he was already barely holding on.
As she lay there open, ready-he looked into her eyes finally seeing she was there with him and no longer fighting this thing, he slowly slid into her warmth, savoring the feel of her all around him gripping and pulling him in.  He kissed her as he stroked inside her, he tugged at her thick beautiful hair and knew this was the moment when she became his.

3- Not So Fast

                   The next few hours Harlow and Christaphor spent 'communicating' until they were both thoroughly exhausted.  Harlow nuzzling his neck as she slept. In fact, she was doing it now as the sun shown through the sheer curtains, Christaphor lay awake with no intention of waking her up.  They would eventually have to go to meetings and face the world, but right now he wanted enjoy the feel of her.
Another hour passed and they were freshly showered and sitting across from each other eating breakfast.

"I had Mirabelle schedule all our meetings today so we can have the evening and tomorrow...exploring London."  Christaphor sipped his coffee , enjoying how Harlow looked at him as if she wanted him right there on the table.  When she licked her lips he almost knocked all the dishes to the floor, she then smiled letting him know she was purposefully making him crazy.

"Sounds great.  I'll go through the presentations a few times before each meeting- Christaphor?"


"Before this..." She pointed at him and her, "I was actively looking for another job."

"To get away from...this."  He smiled slowly, though it didn't reach his eyes.  He had a feeling he wouldn't like where this was going.

"Yes.  Well when we get back I am putting in my two weeks notice- I didn't know you planned this business seduction trip!"

"You were just going to leave and think that that would be it?"  He was alarmingly calm which made Harlow try to down her coffee without choking.

"That was the plan."

"What is the plan now?"

"To take the job...and keep you."  She smiles.

"Come here..."  He whispers.  She saunters over to him and sits on his lap.  Soft playful pecks begin on his jawline, then his neck- it was true, Harlow wanted to keep Mr. Halo.  It could never be like this with anyone else, they didn't even need to speak to understand each other.  He looked at her like she was the sunrise and she knew that even if she doubted him and pushed him away, he would be there silent and strong...and wanting only her.

To be continued...we'll catch up with Harlow and Christaphor in a few weeks, but next lookout for  D'Angelo and Jacobi in Calliente Thunder (ha! yes that is a the title of the next story. no joke) #BeachReads