K. Alex Walker's Blog, page 17

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At forty, Tamika Boone never imagined she’d become a walking cliche. Yet, the morning after a particularly drunken Christmas party, she finds herself waking up in a man’s bed. A man who happens to be her sexy employee, Carson Hollister. 

And Carson’s fifteen years her junior.

What was supposed to not go past the drunken party turns into an agreement—they continue a casual sexual relationship for twelve days until Christmas Eve. After that, they part ways. No feelings and a clean break.

Easier said than done.

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When It All Falls Down



Read Episode 5 here!



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“Austin, I have something to tell you.”

Austin kept his head down, his hands clasped and his left leg bouncing. Because he trusted Sommer, he didn’t question it when she said she needed him to come with her to see her lawyer; not their lawyer but a lawyer she’d retained who he’d never met or heard about until now. Things were good between them, they’d had their second baby a little over a year ago, and although the football team was in a slump, that had nothing to do with their relationship.

He scratched his brow. “All right.”

She covered his hands with hers. “Look at me, baby.”

“I’m looking at you.” His head lifted. “Say what you have to say. You know you can tell me anything.”

No matter how much I don’t want to hear it.

“It’s about Matt.”

It was like someone put out a cigarette butt against his sternum. “What about Matt?”

“He’s been harassing me.”

His leg stopped bouncing. “What?”

“It didn’t stop at the parking garage.” She ran her palms over the back of his hands. “He called me from your phone one day after you guys had practice, and then he…saw us.”

Austin looked over at the lawyer. The right side of her mouth pulled back in what he already figured out was an embarrassed smile. She’d heard the story. She knew where they’d been seen. He knew it too, but he needed to hear it.

He drew forward in his chair, closer to Sommer. “Where did he see us?”

“In the closet. He, uh,” her tongue darted over bottom lip, “saw me, specifically. And then, he must have kept my number after he called me from your phone because I got a video not long after that from a number I still don’t recognize.”

His leg went back to bouncing. “Som, what’s the video of?”

“Austin—”

“You know I’m not going to stop asking.”

She started to lean back, but he grabbed her hands and held them between his. He then took over the small rubs and caresses she’d given him. He’d been afraid she’d brought him there to ask for a trial separation. Even worse, a flat-out divorce. Now, he realized she was asking for his help. His support. 

“It was of a Caucasian penis being stimulated, manually, to completion,” the lawyer cut in.

Austin closed his eyes, released a breath, and reopened them. “Matt…sent you a video…of him jerking off.”

“We haven’t yet confirmed it’s Matt Wilson,” the lawyer said.

“The man’s junk is all over the internet and you can’t confirm it’s him?” He pulled air into this chest, released it, and moved close enough to Sommer that her knee settled between his. “Sommer, you tell me. Do you think Matt sent you that video?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“Another question.” His fingers passed over her knuckles. “Is the implication here that he wants you to know he jerked off to what he saw, of you, in the closet?”

“I think so.”

“Come here.” He drew her onto his lap, into him, cradling her like he could shelter her from the world. And he wished he could, shelter her from any and everything threatening her harm. Keep her in his arms, never let her go. 

“I’m sorry.” He kissed the side of her face. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Austin, it’s ok—”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay, not with me. You didn’t ask for that shit. How long ago did this happen?”

“About a week after the closet.” She played with the sleeve of his blazer. “But I’d already contacted Giselle even before that. I tried talking to Gary to see if maybe he could talk to the team owner about it, but with that avenue shut down, I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Austin looked over at the lawyer. “Giselle?”

“It’s an uphill battle,” Giselle said. “Right now, as it stands, there’s not much to go on but Sommer’s statement, but I’ve made a career out of going after high profile assholes. I won’t be roadblocked.”

He didn’t hear a word she said after “uphill battle” left her mouth. That meant nothing had happened. They had no proof. Matt had taken his phone and called his wife. The man wasn’t an idiot. He’d known, from the start, just what he’d been doing. He’d known how to get what he wanted while covering his tracks.

“The thing about guys like this is, they’re often repeat offenders,” Sommer said.

Giselle nodded. “Exactly, and we’re looking into his past right now.”

“Didn’t he have an accusation against him some years back?” Austin asked. “Right about when I got drafted.”

“The charges got dropped.” Giselle leaned forward, clasped her hands on the tabletop. “The accuser recanted her statement. I’ve already dispatched someone from the firm to go have a word with her, see what they can get. We likely won’t be able to use anything she says, but it’ll help build a character profile.”

“And you said the owners, they did nothing?” Austin wanted to be upset that she didn’t tell him sooner, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. She had her reasons, and no matter how hard it was, he had to respect that. 

“No, not really.” Sommer’s shoulders lifted in what looked, on the outside, like a lazy shrug but disappointment left her body in waves.

He cupped the sides of her face. The love of his life. The woman he’d loved before he’d even known what love was. “I’m going to deal with him,” he told her. “You know that right?”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Excuse me?” Giselle lifted a finger. “It would be helpful if you kept your hands off him.”

“Can’t do that, Giselle.”

“Austin.” Giselle ran her fingers through her hair and then scrubbed a cocoa brown hand over her mouth. “Give us a chance to do things our way.”

“This man has been baiting me about my wife for weeks,” Austin said. “Harassing her, hitting on her. What you’re telling me is that I’ll have to walk into the training room and see this man’s face through weights, film, team meetings, and practice, for the rest of the week, and not do shit?” 

Giselle’s head bobbed. “Yes.”

“You can do it, Austin.” Sommer brushed his hair back from his forehead and then kept her hand there, passing her thumb along his hairline, soothing and appeasing him. Trying to, at least. The leg she sat on bounced so hard, she had to keep a grip on his forearm to remain steady.

“Fine.” His jaw pulsed. “Fine.”

“There’s another thing.” Sommer lowered her hand to his thigh and gripped it, forcing it to stop moving. “He doesn’t know any of this is going on, and in order to gather something concrete against him—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Austin tossed his head back. “So, this entire time, I’m also going to have to act like I don’t know anything if he keeps messing with you?”

“Just until we have something solid,” Giselle said.

“He cornered my wife in a parking garage.” Austin turned to the desk to face her, turning Sommer with him. “She was alone when that happened. Matt Wilson is six-foot-three and two-hundred forty pounds. My baby’s one-fifty soaking wet.”

“I’ll take precautions,” Sommer offered. “I won’t leave the office alone or late at night. Gary’s hired more security. And I’ll work from my office at home two to three days out of the week.”

“Like it’s safe there. I wouldn’t be surprised if that crazy fucker had something to do with what happened at the house. He got into your phone. He could probably hack a security system. Outside of football, a lot of us did study something in college.” 

“He’s crazy, yes.” She squeezed his shoulders. “But he ain’t that crazy.”

“So you say.”

“We’ve already figured out what happened there.”

“Look, all I’m saying is,” he held her waist, “if we need to move, we’ll move. I can do that for you. But I’m your husband, and I’m not one of those who can only say that because I signed my name on a paper. I’m your protector, your partner, and you’re asking me to sit idle while you walk around feeling unsafe.”

“I know—”

“All my promises will be empty.”

She smiled. “I know, but I also know you’ll try, like hell, to help us get what we need without interruptions or distractions.”

He would, but he would fail. 

It was a given.

“You’ll try, Austin.” She lowered her forehead to his. “Please…try.”

Giselle’s shoulders fell like she already knew what was coming.

* * *

After the morning with the lawyer, they had lunch, spent some time together, and then went to Gary’s house that evening for movies in the backyard. Eli and Olivia were already at what they considered their second home, the place they liked to threaten to escape to when he and Sommer shut down cookies and other snacks for the night. Olivia did all the threatening while Eli waved his hands, raised his voice, and stalked off when his big sister did.

They were in pajamas, Olivia on her stomach munching on popcorn and Eli running around, trying to touch everything that could be touched. When he and Sommer walked up, Olivia ran up to them for hugs and kisses before returning to her spot, the movie Frozen playing on the projection screen. Eli asked to be lifted into Austin’s arms and didn’t want to be put down, so Austin continued to hold him while he walked around, pretending everything was fine. While he and Sommer did have a nice afternoon, his mind never strayed from the Matt situation for more than a second.

“Hi, my love.” He leaned down so his mother, Emma, could kiss his cheek. “Are you okay, sweetie? You look upset.”

Sommer glanced at him.

“I’m fine,” he said, lowering into a lounge chair with Eli still clinging to him. “Long day.”

He reclined the chair and Eli took the motion as an opportunity to rest his head, cuddle deeper. Austin stroked his son’s back.

“Um, okay.” Emma paused the movie. Gary went to join her in front of the screen that had been set up against the back of his house.

“So,” Emma reached for Gary’s hand, “Gary asked me to marry him and I have accepted!”

Sommer leapt from her seat and rushed over to her mother-in-law, wrapping her up in a hug. Olivia joined her. Austin watched on, Eli now fast asleep on his stomach.

“We don’t want a lot of hoopla,” Gary added. “We would actually like to do a beach wedding in the Caribbean with our closest family and friends.”

They continued to talk, the conversation volleying between wedding plans, Sommer’s comments, and Olivia’s questions. All Austin could see was Matt watching his half-naked wife and then having the audacity to use that image as fuel for jerking himself off later, on his own time. There were probably other men out there in the world who looked at Sommer’s pictures on social media or wherever to add to their “bank.” He didn’t like it, but he didn’t know them. Matt had seen her. Seen her. His teammate. A man he had access to, could get close enough to wrap his hands around his neck.

“Austin?”

His head snapped up. His mother was looking at him, her eyes glistening.

“Are you unhappy?” she asked. “I know you’ve never been able to accept me dating Gary, but I thought—”

“No, no. It’s okay, Ma.” He rose, walked over, and pulled her against him with the arm not holding Eli. “I’m happy for you. I don’t like you dating in general, but if I had to settle for somebody, I guess Gary would do.”

Gary grunted a laugh. “Thank you, I guess.”

“It’ll be small,” Emma reiterated. “You, your sister and her family, Walt, some of Gary’s friends…”

While she continued through her guest list that didn’t sound like a small wedding with the amount of names she continued to add, he stared at Sommer.

I’m sorry, baby. I’m going to mess up, and I’m not going to regret it.

Episode 7: The Time Has Come



12/21/2019

Only 2 episodes left!

Sneak Preview

“Austin!” Cason grabbed Austin’s hand and used all his strength to pull back on the limb. “Come on, man!”

Blood spotted Austin’s undershirt, smeared his knuckles. “You want to try it again, Matt?” His voice carried throughout the silenced locker room. “You want to try sending pictures of your dick to my wife again?”

Cason released Austin’s arm. “What? Are you serious? Man, Austin. . .do your thing.”

Read Episode 5 here!



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“Austin, I have something to tell you.”

Austin kept his head down, his hands clasped and his left leg bouncing. Because he trusted Sommer, he didn’t question it when she said she needed him to come with her to see her lawyer; not their lawyer but a lawyer she’d retained who he’d never met or heard about until now. Things were good between them, they’d had their second baby a little over a year ago, and although the football team was in a slump, that had nothing to do with their relationship.

He scratched his brow. “All right.”

She covered his hands with hers. “Look at me, baby.”

“I’m looking at you.” His head lifted. “Say what you have to say. You know you can tell me anything.”

No matter how much I don’t want to hear it.

“It’s about Matt.”

It was like someone put out a cigarette butt against his sternum. “What about Matt?”

“He’s been harassing me.”

His leg stopped bouncing. “What?”

“It didn’t stop at the parking garage.” She ran her palms over the back of his hands. “He called me from your phone one day after you guys had practice, and then he…saw us.”

Austin looked over at the lawyer. The right side of her mouth pulled back in what he already figured out was an embarrassed smile. She’d heard the story. She knew where they’d been seen. He knew it too, but he needed to hear it.

He drew forward in his chair, closer to Sommer. “Where did he see us?”

“In the closet. He, uh,” her tongue darted over bottom lip, “saw me, specifically. And then, he must have kept my number after he called me from your phone because I got a video not long after that from a number I still don’t recognize.”

His leg went back to bouncing. “Som, what’s the video of?”

“Austin—”

“You know I’m not going to stop asking.”

She started to lean back, but he grabbed her hands and held them between his. He then took over the small rubs and caresses she’d given him. He’d been afraid she’d brought him there to ask for a trial separation. Even worse, a flat-out divorce. Now, he realized she was asking for his help. His support. 

“It was of a Caucasian penis being stimulated, manually, to completion,” the lawyer cut in.

Austin closed his eyes, released a breath, and reopened them. “Matt…sent you a video…of him jerking off.”

“We haven’t yet confirmed it’s Matt Wilson,” the lawyer said.

“The man’s junk is all over the internet and you can’t confirm it’s him?” He pulled air into this chest, released it, and moved close enough to Sommer that her knee settled between his. “Sommer, you tell me. Do you think Matt sent you that video?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“Another question.” His fingers passed over her knuckles. “Is the implication here that he wants you to know he jerked off to what he saw, of you, in the closet?”

“I think so.”

“Come here.” He drew her onto his lap, into him, cradling her like he could shelter her from the world. And he wished he could, shelter her from any and everything threatening her harm. Keep her in his arms, never let her go. 

“I’m sorry.” He kissed the side of her face. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Austin, it’s ok—”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay, not with me. You didn’t ask for that shit. How long ago did this happen?”

“About a week after the closet.” She played with the sleeve of his blazer. “But I’d already contacted Giselle even before that. I tried talking to Gary to see if maybe he could talk to the team owner about it, but with that avenue shut down, I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Austin looked over at the lawyer. “Giselle?”

“It’s an uphill battle,” Giselle said. “Right now, as it stands, there’s not much to go on but Sommer’s statement, but I’ve made a career out of going after high profile assholes. I won’t be roadblocked.”

He didn’t hear a word she said after “uphill battle” left her mouth. That meant nothing had happened. They had no proof. Matt had taken his phone and called his wife. The man wasn’t an idiot. He’d known, from the start, just what he’d been doing. He’d known how to get what he wanted while covering his tracks.

“The thing about guys like this is, they’re often repeat offenders,” Sommer said.

Giselle nodded. “Exactly, and we’re looking into his past right now.”

“Didn’t he have an accusation against him some years back?” Austin asked. “Right about when I got drafted.”

“The charges got dropped.” Giselle leaned forward, clasped her hands on the tabletop. “The accuser recanted her statement. I’ve already dispatched someone from the firm to go have a word with her, see what they can get. We likely won’t be able to use anything she says, but it’ll help build a character profile.”

“And you said the owners, they did nothing?” Austin wanted to be upset that she didn’t tell him sooner, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good. She had her reasons, and no matter how hard it was, he had to respect that. 

“No, not really.” Sommer’s shoulders lifted in what looked, on the outside, like a lazy shrug but disappointment left her body in waves.

He cupped the sides of her face. The love of his life. The woman he’d loved before he’d even known what love was. “I’m going to deal with him,” he told her. “You know that right?”

“Which is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Excuse me?” Giselle lifted a finger. “It would be helpful if you kept your hands off him.”

“Can’t do that, Giselle.”

“Austin.” Giselle ran her fingers through her hair and then scrubbed a cocoa brown hand over her mouth. “Give us a chance to do things our way.”

“This man has been baiting me about my wife for weeks,” Austin said. “Harassing her, hitting on her. What you’re telling me is that I’ll have to walk into the training room and see this man’s face through weights, film, team meetings, and practice, for the rest of the week, and not do shit?” 

Giselle’s head bobbed. “Yes.”

“You can do it, Austin.” Sommer brushed his hair back from his forehead and then kept her hand there, passing her thumb along his hairline, soothing and appeasing him. Trying to, at least. The leg she sat on bounced so hard, she had to keep a grip on his forearm to remain steady.

“Fine.” His jaw pulsed. “Fine.”

“There’s another thing.” Sommer lowered her hand to his thigh and gripped it, forcing it to stop moving. “He doesn’t know any of this is going on, and in order to gather something concrete against him—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Austin tossed his head back. “So, this entire time, I’m also going to have to act like I don’t know anything if he keeps messing with you?”

“Just until we have something solid,” Giselle said.

“He cornered my wife in a parking garage.” Austin turned to the desk to face her, turning Sommer with him. “She was alone when that happened. Matt Wilson is six-foot-three and two-hundred forty pounds. My baby’s one-fifty soaking wet.”

“I’ll take precautions,” Sommer offered. “I won’t leave the office alone or late at night. Gary’s hired more security. And I’ll work from my office at home two to three days out of the week.”

“Like it’s safe there. I wouldn’t be surprised if that crazy fucker had something to do with what happened at the house. He got into your phone. He could probably hack a security system. Outside of football, a lot of us did study something in college.” 

“He’s crazy, yes.” She squeezed his shoulders. “But he ain’t that crazy.”

“So you say.”

“We’ve already figured out what happened there.”

“Look, all I’m saying is,” he held her waist, “if we need to move, we’ll move. I can do that for you. But I’m your husband, and I’m not one of those who can only say that because I signed my name on a paper. I’m your protector, your partner, and you’re asking me to sit idle while you walk around feeling unsafe.”

“I know—”

“All my promises will be empty.”

She smiled. “I know, but I also know you’ll try, like hell, to help us get what we need without interruptions or distractions.”

He would, but he would fail. 

It was a given.

“You’ll try, Austin.” She lowered her forehead to his. “Please…try.”

Giselle’s shoulders fell like she already knew what was coming.

* * *

After the morning with the lawyer, they had lunch, spent some time together, and then went to Gary’s house that evening for movies in the backyard. Eli and Olivia were already at what they considered their second home, the place they liked to threaten to escape to when he and Sommer shut down cookies and other snacks for the night. Olivia did all the threatening while Eli waved his hands, raised his voice, and stalked off when his big sister did.

They were in pajamas, Olivia on her stomach munching on popcorn and Eli running around, trying to touch everything that could be touched. When he and Sommer walked up, Olivia ran up to them for hugs and kisses before returning to her spot, the movie Frozen playing on the projection screen. Eli asked to be lifted into Austin’s arms and didn’t want to be put down, so Austin continued to hold him while he walked around, pretending everything was fine. While he and Sommer did have a nice afternoon, his mind never strayed from the Matt situation for more than a second.

“Hi, my love.” He leaned down so his mother, Emma, could kiss his cheek. “Are you okay, sweetie? You look upset.”

Sommer glanced at him.

“I’m fine,” he said, lowering into a lounge chair with Eli still clinging to him. “Long day.”

He reclined the chair and Eli took the motion as an opportunity to rest his head, cuddle deeper. Austin stroked his son’s back.

“Um, okay.” Emma paused the movie. Gary went to join her in front of the screen that had been set up against the back of his house.

“So,” Emma reached for Gary’s hand, “Gary asked me to marry him and I have accepted!”

Sommer leapt from her seat and rushed over to her mother-in-law, wrapping her up in a hug. Olivia joined her. Austin watched on, Eli now fast asleep on his stomach.

“We don’t want a lot of hoopla,” Gary added. “We would actually like to do a beach wedding in the Caribbean with our closest family and friends.”

They continued to talk, the conversation volleying between wedding plans, Sommer’s comments, and Olivia’s questions. All Austin could see was Matt watching his half-naked wife and then having the audacity to use that image as fuel for jerking himself off later, on his own time. There were probably other men out there in the world who looked at Sommer’s pictures on social media or wherever to add to their “bank.” He didn’t like it, but he didn’t know them. Matt had seen her. Seen her. His teammate. A man he had access to, could get close enough to wrap his hands around his neck.

“Austin?”

His head snapped up. His mother was looking at him, her eyes glistening.

“Are you unhappy?” she asked. “I know you’ve never been able to accept me dating Gary, but I thought—”

“No, no. It’s okay, Ma.” He rose, walked over, and pulled her against him with the arm not holding Eli. “I’m happy for you. I don’t like you dating in general, but if I had to settle for somebody, I guess Gary would do.”

Gary grunted a laugh. “Thank you, I guess.”

“It’ll be small,” Emma reiterated. “You, your sister and her family, Walt, some of Gary’s friends…”

While she continued through her guest list that didn’t sound like a small wedding with the amount of names she continued to add, he stared at Sommer.

I’m sorry, baby. I’m going to mess up, and I’m not going to regret it.

Only 2 episodes left!

Read Episode 004 Here!

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. Mature (18+) audiences only.

Keep It In The Closet



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“What’s wrong with this new guy?” Amelia Allen asked. 

The woman who’d become Sommer’s best friend in the time she’d moved to Texas leaned forward, her jaw resting in her hand.  Although Sommer wasn’t known to keep things from Amelia, she wasn’t sure what to say at the moment. Football practice had been all over the place. It looked like they were playing an actual opponent the way Matt was charging at Austin, even trying to leap over offensive linemen just to get a crack at him. The coach had reprimanded him twice already, one of those by grabbing Matt’s face-mask and bringing his face down to his as if to say, “Hurt Austin and our season is over…and I will kill you.”

Olivia was at school and Eli was with Austin’s mother, Emma. Amelia’s two boys and baby girl were with her sister-in-law. Amelia was married to Dallas’ leading wide-receiver, Cason Allen. While other wives, girlfriends, and high-profile mistresses were forming groups, coalitions, and starring on reality TV shows, she and Amelia remained in the shadows. They’d wanted as normal families as possible while being scrutinized by the public eye. The deals had come, but they’d sent them away. 

“Picking him up was a ridiculous move, in my opinion,” Sommer said. “The defense was doing fine. They’re third in the league against the run. Spending all that money on Matt makes no sense.”

The center snapped the ball. Matt charged. Austin tossed the ball before Matt reached him, but Matt advanced anyhow. He stopped short of hitting Austin, nodded his head, and pointed in Austin’s direction, saying something that made Austin shrug, shake his head, and smile. 

“He’s been coming on to me,” Sommer blurted.

Amelia leaned back and pinned her with eyes that were a lovely mix of brown and green. “Who is?”

“Matt Wilson. He came to my office, cornered me in the parking garage, and then stole Austin’s phone to talk to me.”

Amelia spun to face her. “Does Austin know?”

“About the first two. Not about the last one, and considering everything that’s been going on with the freak shooting at the house…I’m not ready to tell him yet. I don’t know what to do.”

The honey-brown skin on Amelia’s face flashed red. “We could go to the owner. To Jim and those folks.”

“We? I couldn’t ask you to—”

“I’m not leaving you to battle this on your own, Som.”

“Well, that’s part of the problem.” She sighed. “Gary’s pretty close with Jim so, after I heard Dallas acquired Matt, I went to him and asked him what to do. He said he would bring it up to Jim at their biweekly golf game.”

“And nothing happened,” Amelia said.

“Not a damn thing. Matter of fact, Jim asked Gary to make sure I didn’t stir up any trouble. Gary’s still pretty pissed.”

“What if Austin goes to him?” Then, Amelia shook her head. “That tasted icky coming out of my mouth, asking your husband to try to fix where you failed. And even though Cason and Austin have a lot of pull on the team, winning them two championships in four years, Jim can still strong arm them. I mean, he does sign their checks.”

Austin yelled out the snap count. Matt jumped early and tried to push through the center, Tank, who pushed him back in the chest. Of the original gang who’d been on the team when she and Austin first started dating, only Austin, Cason, Tank, and her brother, Lincoln remained. 

“I’m sorry, Som.” Amelia gave her shoulder a small massage. “I hate this for you.”

A whistle blew, signaling the end of practice. The men removed their helmets and headed toward the locker room. Matt pulled his helmet over his head and shook out his golden strands. He then looked up into the stands, smiled, and waved in her direction.

This guy is really trying it.

Thankfully, Austin didn’t see the exchange, and there were enough “groupies” in attendance that a woman behind where they were sitting waved in response. Sommer was almost relieved he’d been waving to one of them until he frowned, shook his head, and let his gaze linger on her. She didn’t have to meet his gaze to feel it, all humidity and discomfort. 

Amelia’s mouth fell open. “Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s bold.”

“I’ve never been in this position in my life. I don’t get what he wants.”

“I mean, you’re banging,” Amelia said. “So it could be something as simple as thinking if he gets you to bend to his will, that means he has something over on Austin. It’s just a sex thing, I’m sure.”

Sommer laughed. “Not making it better.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Amelia pulled her in for a quick side hug.

Austin walked to the edge of the field. “Hey, sexy.”

“Hey, handsome,” Sommer called back. “You looked amazing out there. Good practice.”

He tilted his head. “Meet me around back?”

I know what that means.

“I’ll be right down.”

He smiled and headed for the locker room. Sommer pretended to avoid Amelia’s accusatory glance.

“How?” Amelia asked. “Two kids and what, like four years of marriage, and you two still screw like porn stars.”

Sommer collected her purse. “What ever are you talking about?”

“Case told me about you guys’ secret smashing spot near the locker rooms. Meanwhile,” Amelia held up her phone, “he just texted me if I could pick up some milk on the way home because the urge to eat cereal just hit him.”

“How does Case know about the spot?”

“He and Austin are best friends, and you know it’s really men who are the gossipy sex.”

Sommer pulled her friend up to stand. “Amelia, you and Case’s youngest child is three weeks old. Your hormones are still out of whack and neither of you are sleeping. That’s the reason you seem to be forgetting that you and your husband go at it like rabbits otherwise.”

They headed for the exit.

“Maybe you’re right,” Amelia said. “I feel like some cereal my damn self.”

Sommer laughed, and they embraced before she left for her and Austin’s “hiding spot.”

* * * * *

“Austin, don’t you have to talk to the press?” 

Austin gripped Sommer’s hips tighter, pushing deep right where she needed him. “That can wait, baby. I needed you.”

Their hiding spot wasn’t especially undiscoverable. It was a janitor’s closet they’d found was never used, but the door didn’t close all the way. If someone walked by at the right time and looked at the right angle, they would be able to see her right breast popped out of her bra and her leg pulled up and back around Austin’s waist while he drilled into her from behind.

“We…mmm…” Her forehead met the wall. She tried again. “We don’t have that much time.”

He slowed his strokes, his pelvis slapping against her butt, and sucked her neck. “I have all the time in the world for you, Sommer.”

Austin had a way about him, using his body and his words to drag her closer to climax. Telling her not only what she wanted to hear but what she needed. He knew how to please her and make her feel treasured at the same time—like he never wanted her to doubt she was loved. 

“Play with it for me, baby.” His voice vibrated, husky.

She recalled she had arms and started to reach between her legs. Her hand brushed and knocked over an old mop that went cascading into a pail. Austin’s pace never wavered, and she was sure he hadn’t heard a thing. 

Her finger slipped between her legs.

“I still can’t believe you’re mine.” He breathed the words near her ear. “You wear my ring, took my name, had my kids…”

His hips pitched faster. Her fingers stroked in time to each thrust.

“I’d give you anything, Sommer. Everything.”

A spark lit inside her. “I don’t know how you still do this to me.”

He laughed, and the strained way it left his throat sent another zing between her legs. However, what pulled her past the point of no return was when he started repeating his declarations…in Italian.

“Oh my gosh.” She turned her head to the side. “Yes, yes, yes.” 

As she crested, exploded, and creamed, she noticed the door had pushed open a little further from her fumbling. She noticed she could see well into the hallway. And she noticed that she could see Matt, his eyes glassy and his bottom lip pulled into his mouth, his gaze on the mocha-capped tip of that exposed right breast.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap!

Austin hooked an arm around her belly and released on a deep rumble of a moan, pulling her backward and thankfully, out of Matt’s line of sight. Sommer reached for the door handle and pulled it as close as she could get it. 

When Austin peppered her neck with kisses, she sighed with relief. He hadn’t seen. No one would die, at least not today. However, once she got their lawyer involved, Austin would become privy to everything going on. 

She wasn’t sure what would happen then.

Episode 006 – When It All Falls Down



12/14/2019



Sneak Preview

His leg went back to bouncing. “Som, what’s the video of?”

“Austin—”

“You know I’m not going to stop asking.”

She started to lean back but he grabbed her hands and held them between his. He then took over the small rubs and caresses she’d given him. He’d been expecting her to ask for a trial separation. Even worse, a flat-out divorce. Now, he realized she was asking for his help. His support.

“It was of a penis being stimulated to completion,” the lawyer cut in.

Three Episodes Left!

A Contemporary Interracial Erotic Romance

Release date – December 16th 2019

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At forty, Tamika Boone never imagined she’d become a walking cliché. Yet, the morning after a particularly drunken Christmas party, she finds herself waking up in a man’s bed. A man who happens to be her sexy employee, Carson Hollister. 

And Carson’s fifteen years her junior.

What was supposed to not go past the drunken party turns into an agreement—they continue a casual sexual relationship for twelve days until Christmas Eve. After that, they part ways. No feelings and a clean break.

Easier said than done.

Carson has no problem agreeing to the arrangement…except, in those twelve days, he’s planning to make Tamika fall for him. For him, their Christmas after-party hookup was nothing short of divine intervention; he’s wanted her for years but always kept a professional distance. No matter how hard it’s been to do so.

He can give her what she thinks is the only thing he wants from her—screaming mornings, steamy evenings, and erotic nights in her office, his loft, his car…wherever.

But, when it’s all said and done, she’ll realize that there’s much more to him than what he can do to her body.

Bruce Wayne: I wanted to save Gotham. I failed.

Alfred Pennyworth: Why do we fall sir? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.

November was a tough month.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’m quite adept at falling. Some days, I get up. Others, I lie on the floor and stare into the abyss under my bed in a pseudo-detachment from reality. It’s where I do my best thinking, on the floor, which is why I understand Mindy Lahiri’s propensity toward lying on her back when the world starts shoving.

I have a major book coming out that a few people have expressed that they hope it flops.

I’ve started an online series.

I’m working on getting a Christmas erotic novella out since I haven’t done that in a while, and as a single woman, I like to prove I still know where all the sex parts go.

However, these are all things I love to do. Writing isn’t the stressful part, not really.

The stressful part is the voices. The doubt. The reading my own words and feeling nauseous because I’ve convinced myself they’re dreadful.

Not bad, dreadful.

The voices are a thick, figurative, simmering stew whose ingredients consist of each person who has ever told me, “You can’t,” “You won’t,” or “You’re worthless.”

If you remove the morose and the morbid reality of those words, it’s really fascinating that if you hear something enough, it eventually transforms into a part of your identity.

However, when you return that morose, that morbid…it’s terrifying when you realize the amount of times you heard you aren’t and you will never be actually do outnumber the amount of times you might have heard, “I love you.” Or even, “You’re okay.” Hell, I would have taken, “You’re not entirely interesting, but you do not make me vomit.”

So, this month, I fell.

In my head, I’d planned this grand and brave adventure to an unknown place where I was going to show the world (well, the few people who visit mah blog) how much I’ve progressed no matter how hard social anxiety presses its forearm against my neck.

“Look at me,” I saw myself saying/typing. “Look at me conquering this fear like a mountain with strategically placed craters and jutted stones, perfectly sized for my spider-like fingers to grip.”

Yet, my biggest accomplishment this month so far as I’m writing this? Driving a half-hour to Wesley Chapel, FL to pick up an Ulta order.

[image error]Wesley Chapel Ulta

“It’s something, though!” I can already hear the encouraging voices say. “You could have let the order sit there until they put it back like you do with most of your Old Navy orders!”

It’s funny how the encouraging voices are also part of who I am, who we are, but they’re often like a field mouse on helium yelling into a void.

I guess, what I’m trying to say is it’s perfectly fine to fall.

It’s also okay to fall and then hate yourself for it. It’s even more okay to fall and then stay there for a while to gather your bearings.

And while I can be an annoyingly positive person (a therapy-taught skill) who is always stretching toward the bright side like a sunflower, even people who are able to jiu jitsu themselves out of self-deprecation before it leads to major depression, for lack of a better term, fuck up.

But, I went to Ulta.

I stressed before I went because I wish I was different, and I wish I could snap my fingers and change.

I felt sick before I went because the negative voices have several more years of experience than I do and they do not want to lose that management position to a millennial snowflake.

I tried to talk myself out of going because anxiety forces me to feel wind, sunlight, smell smoke when there’s none, and absorb people’s fear and sadness only to become overwhelmed by it all.

And then I rocked, got teary-eyed, and had to keep doing Fitbit Versa-mediated deep breathing because this is hard, difficult, painful, and fking tiring.

But this is my Mount Everest. I’ve never heard anyone say, “Oh, that was easy,” after climbing Mt. Everest.

Let me Google this, actually.

Nope, no one.

But, I went to Ulta.

I got my UrbanRx face cleansing bar. My skin is going to be banging for the next 60 days or so, maybe 90 because I have a terrible memory and will forget to use it many days.

But…I went to Ulta.

I went when everything in me wanted to stay.

So, the next time you fall, curse. Cry. Groan. Yell.

And then, when it’s all said and done, get up. Even if it’s on your elbows, your knees…get up. Get the fuck up because you are Batman…and Batman can still do difficult shit.

Until next time,

xoxo, Alex

[image error]My nephew. Toddler expert. Falls continuously but then says, “Y’okay,” and goes back to sprinting.

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. For mature (18+) readers.

A War on Two Fronts



Behind? No worries! Read Episode 003 Here!



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Austin flipped the channel, bypassing every news station still talking about his home being shot up and the walls left like Swiss cheese. Somehow their gated-community’s system got hacked, and the guard at the main entrance conveniently left his post at the same time, allowing somebody access to their home. Even though the shooter or shooters didn’t get inside the private front gate at the end of the driveway, because of their weapon of choice, they didn’t have to. 

The offender(s) did the same to three more houses on the street belonging to a Dallas point-guard, a real estate investor, and an internet celebrity. Based on the internet celebrity’s recent posts and some kind of controversy he was toiled in, the police believed he’d been the real target. 

Austin didn’t care. His children could have been at home.

The guard was fired and placed under investigation. The company who’d monitored the system was replaced. That had happened three days ago and yet, the incident was still on the news. 

It had gone from the original story of the break-in to an exposé about, “How Secure is our Home Security,” and then to an investigative report that had revealed the security company’s troubled financial situation.

He’d assumed that would have been the worst thing to happen in the last week. Hell, the year. But as he arrived at the ESPN channel and the ticker at the bottom flashed the latest news—Houston linebacker, Matt Wilson, traded to Dallas just days after a major scuffle with Austin Riley—he knew the entire month would be a shit-show.

Sommer appeared in the living room with Eli on her hip, Eli’s attention on playing with the strap of her pajama tank top. “Morning, babe.”

He grumbled a response. Eli mimicked the sound.

She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen and came back a few moments later with Eli holding a bottle to his mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be headed for practice?” She let Eli down to the floor.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m on my way.”

“Cutting it kinda close there.”

“You usually don’t mind when I’m running behind.”

She grinned. “That’s when I’m the reason.”

He changed the channel to one of Eli’s preschool shows. Eli toddled in front of the TV,  plopped down to sit, and tipped his bottle back like a longneck.

“You had a long day, bud?” Austin crouched, dropped a kiss on his son’s forehead, ruffled his hair, and then stood. “I swear, there’s a fifty-year-old man living inside that boy.”

Sommer laughed and leaned up for a kiss. “Maybe he did have a long day. All those bills he has to pay.”

He swatted her on the butt and headed for the bedroom.

“Austin? I saw the news. I don’t want our kids to visit you in jail.”

Olivia held the banister with one hand and rubbed her eyes with the other as she descended from her upstairs princess quarters. When the information saturated, her eyes widened. “Daddy’s going to jail?”

Sommer shook her head. “No, sweetie. Mommy’s just joking around.”

Austin shot her a look over his shoulder. Sommer smiled, rolled her eyes, and headed for the kitchen.

* * * * *

Sommer sat Eli in his high chair around the breakfast table. He whined and tossed his bottle across the kitchen floor, continuing his antics from when she’d picked him up and interrupted him in the middle of his show.

She retrieved the bottle, set it on the countertop, and placed a plate of French toast sticks, milk, and scrambled eggs in front of Olivia.

Olivia beamed. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

Eli, unhappy he didn’t get the reaction he was looking for from the thrown bottle, burst into screaming tears. Sommer stared at him, shook her head, and placed cut up pieces of French toast sticks in front of him. The crying stopped immediately, but he let the sad face linger for effect.

“Mommy, guess what I’m going to do today?” Olivia asked, using a child-sized knife and fork to spear her already soft scrambled eggs. “I’m going to paint you a picture. A real one, not on paper but on like…what’s it called…can-can—”

“Canvas.” Sommer took a seat at the table with a mug of coffee, one eye on Eli. 

“Yes, canvas!” Olivia swallowed a bite. “We’re painting Fall. My teacher, she’s from Indiana and she said Fall there is different and I asked her how and she said it’s because…”

Sommer sipped while Olivia rattled on. 

She eased back in her seat, confident Eli was satisfied and wouldn’t be causing any more problems that morning. At least, for now. Half her attention was on Olivia while the other half was on Austin. The house being shot up was a rare, once-in-a-lifetime kind of event, but things were already tense for him. It was the last thing they needed right now. 

They didn’t tell Olivia about it, and she was still having dreams of the sound of the bullets hitting the walls. And then, to make matters worse, he now had to be teammates with Matt Wilson?

She took a long sip of the aromatic, slow roast. Maybe them being on the same team would help things. Men weren’t really known for holding grudges, and it was possible Matt was coming on strong because he’d wanted to get under Austin’s skin. Disagreements could sometimes boost a public figure’s career if they got “into it” with the right person. Austin was Dallas’ golden boy. Matt wouldn’t be the first to try to get a piece of him, but he was the first to do it the way he was.

“…but then, I didn’t really think that would work.” Olivia cradled her cup in both hands and swallowed a gulp of milk. Sommer’s heart warmed when she pulled the cup away, revealing a milk mustache.

“So how’d you solve the problem?” Sommer asked.

Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but a burp snuck out. 

She giggled and thumped her chest. “Scuse me.”

Sommer’s phone vibrated on the kitchen island. 

“Good use of manners, sweetheart,” she acknowledged, hurrying over to the phone when she saw Austin’s name on her watch. She lifted it to her ear. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hey, sexy.”

It wasn’t Austin’s voice, but she knew whose it was. 

“Matt, what are you doing with my husband’s phone?”

“Stuff happens. I miss you.”

“Am I going to have to get other people involved to get you to stop?”

“Look, Sommer,” he sighed, “I wanted to apologize about how I came off the other day. I was way out of line. You’re one of the best in the business. I mean, look at what you did for Lincoln. And he was your first client.”

“Matt—”

“Please give me another chance.”

She couldn’t believe this man was in his thirties. He’d gone out of his way to steal Austin’s phone and break into it. Maybe if she’d been with anyone but Austin, and they were fifteen years old, she would have thought this was endearing. 

She also didn’t understand Matt’s preoccupation with her. The man was attractive, well-hung, and rich. Even if his thing was women who were off-limits, Austin wasn’t the only player in the league who was married…and a few of those wives would have given it up already.

“Sommer?”

“Talk to Gary.” She ended the call, mainly because she really wasn’t sure Austin wouldn’t end up in jail if he found Matt on his phone and talking to her. Hell, he might start changing his mind about her interest in Mark, and they’d already gone through enough of that with his almost-baby mama around four years ago.

“Mmm-ma! Mmm-ma!”

“Mommy!” Olivia waved her arms over her head. “Eli’s calling you.”

Sommer turned the phone face down and walked back to the kitchen. 

Episode 005 – Keep It In The Closet



12/07/2019



Sneak Preview

…As she crested, exploded, and creamed, she noticed the door had pushed open a little further because of her fumbling. She noticed she could see well into the hallway. And she noticed that she could see Matt, his eyes glassy and his bottom lip pulled into his mouth, his gaze on the mocha-capped tip of that exposed right breast.

Football Fight Night

Contains bad words and sex-y scenarios. For mature (18+) readers.

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The referee ducked, barely missing a fist to the jaw.

“Is that why you’re trying to fuck my wife?” Austin yelled over the crowd noise. “Think if she lets you eat her pussy you’ll get that taste of my dick you’re dying for?”

Matt swung again. Two of his teammates’ arms stretched across his midsection, dragging him toward the Houston sideline. Cason Allen, Dallas’ top wide-receiver, pushed Austin back with two hands against his chest pads. Yellow beanbag flags flew overhead like missiles. Whistles blew.

“Austin, chill out.” Cason punched Austin’s shoulder pads. “Austin, chill the fuck out.” 

Tank, the largest man on their offensive line, placed his body between Matt and Austin as Cason continued to push him back into a huddle.

The referees announced the fouls—unsportsmanlike conduct on both teams—to the Dallas crowd which booed with bias. Austin paced, air bursting from his lungs. It was bad enough Eli, Olivia, and Sommer were being blamed for their team’s current losing streak—as opposed to their poor defense, an offensive line that crumbled like saltine crackers, a new offensive coordinator who didn’t know shit about calling plays, and his lackluster performance.

He ignored the voice in his helmet and relayed the next play options to the team. The OC wanted to run; they lined up to pass. The coach yelled in his ear. He tuned it out.

They ran down the snap count. He dropped back to pass. The ball sailed toward Cason…and landed right in Matt’s hands.

Cason tackled Matt, stopping him from gaining any additional yards after the interception. Matt hopped to his feet, flipped the ball, and looked in Austin’s direction. He spread his fingers and flicked his tongue between the V.

Austin unhooked the straps on his helmet and glanced up at the large screen above the field as he made his way back to the sideline. There was no arguing it; he’d forced the pass. The offensive line had given him seconds to make a decision and his head already hadn’t been in the right place.

 Fuck. 

 * * * * * 

“So…you handled it, I see.”

Austin blew against Sommer’s neck. “We still won the game.”

“Yes you did, baby.” She patted his thigh. “You sure did.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t patronize me.”

They’d already watched the SportsCenter highlights several times. He wanted her to change the channel. She wanted to keep watching.

“What’d you say to him right there?” She leaned back against his chest and pointed to the TV. Eli and Olivia were with his mother, giving them the evening to themselves. They were in bed. She was pressed back against him, in his arms. The house was empty. But, for some reason, they weren’t naked.

“Does it matter?” He moved a curl aside and trailed his tongue along the curve of her neck.

“Amelia called me. She said Case is still pissed at you.”

“She told me.”

He kissed the ball of her shoulder, trailed his hand up her ribcage to her breasts, and cupped their weight in his palms. She was self-conscious about them after breastfeeding two babies. He loved everything about her even more because she’d given him two of the greatest gifts he’d ever known.

“Austin?”

His fingers found a nipple and tweaked.

“Do you think I’d take Matt up on his offer? Is that why this pisses you off so much?”

“Baby, that doesn’t even cross my mind. I just don’t like when what’s mine—”

“Like your property?”

“Well, uh,  my woman—”

“So I’m just your woman?”

“Stop.” He swatted the side of her thigh. She giggled. “You know what I mean. And yes, I know you can handle yourself and I don’t feel threatened that you’d waste your time with another man when I’m perfect for you.”

She rolled her eyes. He kissed the top of her head.

“But the most basic, primal instinct inside me wants to rip out his trachea for coming to you, at your office, like that. You’re not some side-chick or some woman I’m having sex with. You’re my wife. The mother of my children.”

She pushed onto her knees and faced him. All she wore was a thin tank top, and because he’d been playing with them, her nipples were hard and in his face. He could already feel them on his tongue, pebbling as he sucked and flicked. Then, her breath would catch and she’d toss her head back, shoving her breasts further into his face while he slid a finger along the slit of her—

A loud crash pulled him out of his descent between the depths of her legs.

He pulled Sommer against him.

She grabbed onto his shirt. “What the hell was that?”

Another crash sounded, this one clearer—broken glass. The first he now recognized as exploding wood. They were in Texas. People walked into department stores with assault rifles strapped over their shoulders in some counties. His own father had been a gun connoisseur. He knew that sound well.

“Som, get on the floor.”

She scrambled to the floor. He covered her with his body as more shots rang out. Nothing else mattered at that moment but her safety. The kids weren’t anywhere nearby, which was a blessing. Even though their rooms were upstairs, he didn’t play when it came to his family.

When the shots stopped, he pushed up off Sommer and started to the front room. “Stay here, baby. Call the police.”

“Austin,” she grabbed the hem of his shirt, “Austin, wait.”

“I’m going to check—”

“Babe, this is a mixed-couple moment.” She pulled him down to his knees. “Stay here. I’ll call the police. Let them give the all-clear before we go check.”

“But—”

“Baby.” She grabbed his face between her hands. “Wait.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Somebody shot at our home. You stay your ass right here.”  

Everyone said God didn’t give you more than you could handle, but Austin could see his breaking point drawing nearer like an Olympic track-and-field finish line.

Episode 004 – A War on Two Fronts



11/30/2019

Excerpt

It was a watercolor image of a woman. Her legs were long and thick all the way down from where her hips met her thighs. Her skin was a deep brown, almost as deep as Tia’s, and the colors wrapped around the canvas, around her body, like a dress billowing in the wind. For something so large, the estate had its fair share of colorful palettes. The walls were neutral and the curtains that bordered the windows were white and heavy, but the different bowls and ornaments placed around as decor swallowed and regurgitated color. 

This painting stood out. This woman with her wrap licking the breeze and her dark hair spilling into curls which eventually became flowers, leaves, and tree branches was a goddess among the rest.

Tia walked over.

“She is fiction.” Mataio came up next to her. “A university student painted it.”

“Who is she supposed to be?”

They glanced at each other, looked away.

“Ofaanga,” he said. “A story we’re told as children.”

“Are you going to tell me or will I have to resort to pulling your nails from your fingers?”

The right side of his mouth pulled back. “The story’s not important. It talks about there being fate in love, destined souls and whatnot. Things a young, lovesick university student would believe in.”

He started off, but she grabbed his wrist.

“If it’s about love, is there a complementary piece?” She lifted her hand near to but not tracing the colors. Everything in the estate was so precious, she didn’t want to ruin them with oily fingertips. It was the archaeologist’s cardinal sin, handling something that could one day be priceless without covering the hands. 

Mataio placed her fingers on the painting. “You can touch it. You can do whatever you want.”

A faint ripple coiled in her stomach.

Tia traced a splash of blue color that wrapped with brown and green to form the hills of the woman’s breasts. “She looks like she’s waiting. This isn’t a woman standing on the beach because she’s posing for a cover shoot. This is heartache. I can feel it.” She gently swiped her fingers over the dark tendrils of hair. “Who are you waiting for, my love?”

After several beats of silence, Tia looked up to find Mataio staring down at her. Their gazes held, and she wished there was a way to know what he was thinking.

Release Date: January 1st



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Release Date: January 1st



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It was a watercolor image of a woman. Her legs were long and thick all the way down from where her hips met her thighs. Her skin was a deep brown, almost as deep as Tia’s, and the colors wrapped around the canvas, around her body, like a dress billowing in the wind. For something so large, the estate had its fair share of colorful palettes. The walls were neutral and the curtains that bordered the windows were white and heavy, but the different bowls and ornaments placed around as decor swallowed and regurgitated color. 

This painting stood out. This woman with her wrap licking the breeze and her dark hair spilling into curls which eventually became flowers, leaves, and tree branches was a goddess among the rest.

Tia walked over.

“She is fiction.” Mataio came up next to her. “A university student painted it.”

“Who is she supposed to be?”

They glanced at each other, looked away.

“Ofaanga,” he said. “A story we’re told as children.”

“Are you going to tell me or will I have to resort to pulling your nails from your fingers?”

The right side of his mouth pulled back. “The story’s not important. It talks about there being fate in love, destined souls and whatnot. Things a young, lovesick university student would believe in.”

He started off, but she grabbed his wrist.

“If it’s about love, is there a complementary piece?” She lifted her hand near to but not tracing the colors. Everything in the estate was so precious, she didn’t want to ruin them with oily fingertips. It was the archaeologist’s cardinal sin, handling something that could one day be priceless without covering the hands. 

Mataio placed her fingers on the painting. “You can touch it. You can do whatever you want.”

A faint ripple coiled in her stomach.

Tia traced a splash of blue color that wrapped with brown and green to form the hills of the woman’s breasts. “She looks like she’s waiting. This isn’t a woman standing on the beach because she’s posing for a cover shoot. This is heartache. I can feel it.” She gently swiped her fingers over the dark tendrils of hair. “Who are you waiting for, my love?”

After several beats of silence, Tia looked up to find Mataio staring down at her. Their gazes held, and she wished there was a way to know what he was thinking.

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