Page 11 of Tempted to Love You
“Hello, beautiful.”
Walking toward the couch, I kiss Ma’s cheek when I reach her.
“What brings you by? Not that you need permission or advance notice.”
I’m falling in love, and it’s happening faster than lightning strikes twice, which scares me because I barely know this woman. I’m locked in, but I need reassurance from Ma that I’m not out of my damn mind. Usually, I despise women who come on too strong, yet here I am, trying to convince Latia that I deserve a place in her life. I haven’t even asked her to be mine, yet I’ve capitalized on what could have been a tragedy in her life. I also selfishly asked her to dinner without considering what else she might have had on her agenda after an early workday.
The biggest problem is that I don’t have a single regret, nor would I do anything different if given the opportunity. I want Latia Revish in the worst way and for more than just to soak my dick with her juices, even though the constant images of Latia writhing in my bed have been on a continuous loop since our first meeting.
“Earth to Rakai.” Ma’s humor-filled tone cuts off my wayward thoughts.
“I’m in love, Ma. I have never fallen for a woman before knowing her or her name. Yet, it happened, and I can’t even explain it.”
My heart races, and jitters fill my body as I stare unblinking at the wall while waiting for Ma’s response.
“Like father, like son.” Ma’s words have my gaze shifting to her, and the sight of her nodding has my mouth opening and closing with my words jumbling in my mind.
“What?”
“Your father and I might have been high school sweethearts, but that’s only because he approached me, talking about how my beauty spoke to his soul. At first, I thought he needed medical attention, but his persistence wore me down. Before I knew it, I fell in love with him too. So again, like father, like son.”
Damn, I didn’t see that coming, but I’ll happily embrace it.
Rakai
Several Weeks Later …
“Good evening, Mr. Crawford. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.” The reporter from Ribax Chronicles taps my arm with stars in her eyes, causing me to take a step back to prevent direct contact with my body.
The charity gala forBending Minds, Reshaping Heartsis in its sophomore year, and it’s something that Mr. Bryan suggested Grant put on so the city of Ribax can get involved with the organization’s vision in a subtle way. Neither Grant nor I wanted to spearhead the event, so Grant assembled a team to handle all the logistics. At the insistence of Mr. Bryan, I’m the spokesperson for this year’s gala. Mr. Bryan said it would be great to highlight someone with firsthand knowledge of being in the trenches and living to tell the story, which could showcase the organization’s name at its best. I’m not ashamed of my background, and I agreed to do my part if it meant helping someone else avoid my former lifestyle.
“My pleasure,” I reply.
“Can you tell me and our viewing audience more about the organization?”
“Sure thing. We’re a nonprofit organization focusing on prison reform and reaching those in the community who feel like their only option lies within the cold streets of Baxter County. We have mentoring programs, counseling, job readiness that include mock interviews, and other programs that speak to the total man who feels like his back is against the wall.”
“So, your primary focus is on men? You don’t help women newly released from prison?”
The curling of the reporter’s top lip causes a low, humorless chuckle to escape my mouth from the judgment now shining in her eyes.
“Not that we would turn down anyone if they should need our services, but yes, our primary focus is on men.”
“Hm. Interesting. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Crawford.”
“No problem.” Smirking, I walk away from the reporter and head for the woman I hope will complete the personal story I imagine regarding us.
Latia is a vision of elegance, sophistication, and beauty in the gold ball gown adorning her body. My dick twitches with every step I take toward her, and I self-consciously lick my lips to moisten them from fear of sudden dryness. If Latia’s back were facing me, I wouldn’t know it was her from the long blonde hair I didn’t realize was hidden under her bonnet. Even at our impromptu dinner date, Latia’s hair was pulled into a tight bun that I’m now mesmerized was capable of pulling off such a style. The V-shaped neckline showcases Latia’s ample breasts, which cause my mouth to water. The urge to hold Latia in my arms increases my steps, shortening our distance in minutes.
“Say, baby, do you got a man?” A grin slides into place, and my heart skips a beat when Latia’s full-body laugh hits my ears. “You are a breath of fresh air, mama.”
“Thank you, Rakai. It’s good to see you,” Latia replies, smiling before stepping into my space and wrapping her arms around my body, causing me to reciprocate her action.
The minute I feel Latia’s connection, I momentarily forget to breathe, and my eyes close as I savor the moment. This woman is mine, and the urge to elope hits me like a boulder, causing me to tighten my hold on her body. Everyone else fades into the background as a vision of Latia and me on a beach settles within my mind. A puff of air from Latia’s mouth hits the side of my face, confirming that I’m not in this thing by myself. Reluctantly, I disconnect our bodies while staring intently into Latia’s twinkling eyes.
“Will you be mine, mama?”
A gasp escapes Latia’s mouth as she assesses me for several minutes before she speaks, causing me to hang onto her words in expectation of her response.
