This has to stop. She deserves better.
The whole time Ebony talked at the dining table; all I could do was gaze into those beautiful brown eyes. It wasn’t purely sexual. I was just fascinated by them. It was why I had to keep asking her more questions. Those eyes hid tragedy. Horror. Pain. Enough suffering to collapse a city—to destroy and flatten it to the ground.
And even after she’d made her confession, she kept saying that she didn’t need my help. But I wouldn’t stand aside. The bruises. The helplessness of the kids. The pain. The struggle of her running from a deranged man, all by herself.
Ebony had said she would leave when the snow melts and the roads were clear. If I could freeze the world forever I would. I didn’t know if I wanted something with her, but I knew I didn’t want the kids and her to leave. Not now.
How could I stand aside, when I knew I could be the solution?
The kids and her had suffered enough.
Wyatt had to die.
Three years? She can’t keep running. Soon, he’ll catch her, and she won’t be able to run again. Did she know about the missing woman in California? Probably not.
I thought about her sitting across from me.
Weak minded, my thoughts strayed to other assessments of Ebony—those lips, the softness of her skin, the lovely frame. Daylight had been unkind, showing more of her to me. I hadn’t been prepared with that part of my reaction.
I saw women all the time.
None excited me.
For five years, I’d sat in the Titty Palace and not been aroused. Bare breasts all over the place. Hips winding and twisting. Women consistently coming up to me and whispering delicious things in my ear.
None of that had lit a fire deep inside of me.
Even self-pleasure had lowered to barely a monthly event. Half the time I did it because medical articles claimed the release was healthy.
Basically, I’d become a monk.
Granted, for a large part of these five years I’d been mourning. That could’ve been the reason for not taking any of the dancers up on their offers or having much of a sexual libido.
What made Ebony trigger an effect in me?
Like my wife, she was black. That same rich brown skin. But that was where the similarities ended. I pushed memories of my wife out of my head.
Thinking of her would only hurt and shove me into depression.
A soft voice sounded from the kitchen. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Rising, I turned her way.
She’s beautiful. That could be a reason. But are all women beautiful in some way?
She blinked. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” I regained my composure, walked off to the coat rack, put on my jacket, and opened the door. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing important.”
Salt and Pepa rose.
I shook my head. “Stay here, girls. Watch the kids.”
Ebony quirked her brows. “They’re guard dogs too?”
“One of the best. They won’t let anyone near this house or the kids, until we get back.”
Salt and Pepa lay back on the floor.
“Let’s go.” I watched her walk out the house, followed, and shut the door behind us. “What I want to show you is in the back of my property.”
She quirked her brows.
I smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s not too far.”
In silence, we trudged through the snow. Every few steps I glanced her way. In my mind, I told myself that I was just making sure she didn’t need help on the rocky landscape, but I wanted a closer look at her. Watching her from the dining table hadn’t been enough.
Those long black dreadlocks fell behind her. The candy-curled ends hit the center of her back. They looked so soft. So silky. I wondered how those locs would feel wrapped around my fingers.
What are you talking about?
I made a note to raise my date for self-pleasure and release to this week. Since Ebony was in the house, I would have to jerk my cock in the shower. Perhaps, after everyone fell asleep.
That’s all it is. It’s just nature. Having a beautiful woman in the house would probably trigger these feelings for anyone. It’s nothing more.
Her jacket might not have been warm enough. The whole time we walked she had her arms folded across her chest like a shield from the wind. We got to the top of the hill. The small two-level house stood before us.
She stopped and opened her mouth in shock. “Is this still your property?”
“Yes. This used to be a small restaurant, fitting barely six people at a time. The woman who owned the place converted the living room into a small dining area. The kitchen has industrial stoves and anything else one would find in a restaurant.”
“Wow.” She dropped her arms. Unintentionally, my gaze fell on her rounded breasts. They were extraordinary. Utterly remarkable even. I’d noticed them last night for a few seconds, but now. . .they would be hard to forget. Ones that could barely fill my hands.