by Cleo Jones
Audrey straightened up and craned her neck to get a better look at the man in question, but she stumbled back and ducked behind a rack of dresses as soon as he turned to look in her direction.
It was him.
From her concealed location, Audrey peered out at Nate in silent disbelief. She hadn’t seen him in almost five years, but he looked exactly the same as he had when they were together. However, the real shocker came when she noticed the young biracial boy whose hand he was holding. She frowned as she tried to figure out who he could be, but as soon as she got a clear look at his face she knew without a shred of doubt that he was Nate’s son.
“Just hang in there buddy,” Nate spoke up when the boy began to fuss. “Remember what I said about mommy needing to find something pretty to wear?”
The small child gestured that he understood.
“Well that’s what she’s doing, but she’ll be done any minute now and then we’ll go get some ice cream. I promise.”
A lump of jealousy formed in the pit of Audrey’s throat as she began to put all the pieces together. It wasn’t like she could ignore the obvious. The child looked just as much like Zoë as he did Nate.
Confirming Audrey’s suspicions, Zoë exited the fitting room shortly after Jon did and gave her family a bright smile. Like Nate, time had only done her favors. The only difference in her appearance, from what Audrey could discern from her hiding spot a few feet away, was the presence of a very swollen stomach.
“Thanks for being so patient baby,” Zoë said as she leaned forward to give her son a brief peck on the forehead.
Zoë’s hands cradled her large belly, and Nate never once took his eyes off of her. As much as Audrey had tried to convince herself that he was living a life far more miserable than her own, it was obvious that he was far happier than he’d ever been with her.
Audrey rolled her eyes and slid back on her sunglasses before making a quick beeline for the door. Screw the go-see. She had to get out of here.
Once outside, Audrey exhaled a breath of relief and took a moment to regain her composure before turning to look back inside the boutique. She hoped that if she stared at Nate long enough he would catch her looking and give her a fleeting look of regret, but he never did.
It was obvious that the only woman he had eyes for was Zoë.
Contest
Hello readers!
I hoped you enjoyed reading my latest bwwm romance novella. If you read the entire book and would like a chance at winning a $25 Amazon gift card from my publication company, Amazing Grace Publications, please send me the answer to the following question:
What is Nate’s occupation?
Send your answer to: [email protected]. Amazing Grace Publications will be choosing not one but TWO winners on October 1st based on the pool of responses that are received. The winner will be notified by email. Last months winner was Sharon Jackson.
Congratulations Sharon!
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Contact Me
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About the Author
Cleo Jones was born in Detroit but she currently lives in Toronto with her Canadian-born husband and two wonderful biracial children. Writing has always been Cleo’s passion in life, and she loves books that profile strong black women. To stay up to date with Cleo’s publication schedule, be sure to subscribe to her mailing list. You can also follow her author page on Amazon here.
Bonus
Please enjoy this free preview of another one of Cleo’s BWWM pregnancy romances, Double The Love. If you like what you read, you can purchase the book on Amazon here. It is also available for free via Kindle Unlimited.
Continue to the free preview below.
Prologue
Jasmine bit down on her bottom lip and gave Liam a coy smile as he pulled her through the crowd of gyrating bodies that surrounded them. She was wearing a tight pair of shorts and a tank top, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. As typical as it was for him to be lusting after the girl next door, he was far too drunk to listen to the tiny voice in the back of his head that was telling him to stop before it was too late.
Instead, he did what he always did.
He gave in.
Jasmine let out a soft gasp as Liam closed the door to his bedroom and pulled her into a desperate kiss. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the years of unresolved sexual tension between them, but it wasn’t long before she found herself kissing him back. His lips moved slowly and with purpose, and she watched through heavy lidded eyes as he removed her tank top and tossed it to the ground, allowing the party unfolding on the other side of the wall to blur into the background.
“Don’t stop,” Jasmine gasped.
Liam unclasped her bra and groaned when her full breasts dropped into his palms. “Jazz, you’re crazy if you think I’m capable of stopping now,” he whispered, pushing her onto his bed and pressing a trail of wet kisses down her dark flesh.
Jasmine failed to contain a laugh. “We can’t stand each other,” she mumbled. “I think the fact that this is happening is crazy enough as it is.”
Liam didn’t refute her statement. He continued kissing her neck instead, unlatching himself from her just long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head.
Jasmine didn’t realize they were both completely naked until his strong body was on top of hers. His touch ignited each one of her senses, and all she could focus on was the warmth of his bare flesh against hers. For one brief moment, she let go of her womanist principles and allowed herself to be owned by him. She was his, and the faint marks he was leaving behind on her flesh were as clear a representation of that as any.
Jasmine didn’t think about her virginity, or the fact that she’d never be able to get this moment back. She wanted it, and as crazy as it seemed given their lifelong hatred for each other, she wanted it with Liam. His dick throbbed with need, and he took a moment to search her face for any signs of hesitation before thrusting sharply forward.
Liam groaned as Jasmine’s tight walls clenched around his length, but he kept a steady pace to keep himself from finishing too soon. He could tell he wasn’t going to be able to last very much longer in his current state, but he was feeling generous, something he rarely ever was, and he wanted her to finish first.
Jasmine moaned and arched into him, clawing into his back as her pleasure overcame her. It seemed as though each one of his thrusts were deeper than the last, and eventually the slight pain she was feeling disintegrated under the mind numbing pressure of her release. “Faster,” she urged him, gripping at his shoulder blades in an attempt at speeding up his.
Liam didn’t need the coaxing, however. His face twisted up with pleasure as he came, and he finished with a few slow thrusts and a low grunt before collapsing on top of her.
They laid in silence for a few minutes, both of them basking in the aftershock of what they had just done as a thousand jumbled thoughts rushed through their heads.
Jasmine was first to break through the quiet. “Wow,” she whispered, struggling to catch her breath.
Liam sat up and went to roll off the condom, and that’s when he noticed the small tear in it. “Yeah,” he whispered, staring down at it in disbelief. “My sentiments exactly…”
Chapter one
“How are you feeling?”
Jasmine pulled her gaze from her r
eflection and met eyes with her publicist. As usual, his expression was laced with concern. It seemed like all he did these days was worry about her, or more precisely, whether or not she’d be able to continue writing his paychecks in four months time.
“I'm fine, Eli,” Jasmine spoke up, breathing out an elongated sigh as she turned back towards her reflection. She was getting so sick of him asking her that.
Jasmine rolled her eyes and reached down to adjust her dress on her waist. She was glad that her stylist followed her instructions and got her something loose to wear for this performance. It was becoming increasingly more difficult for her to keep this secret with every passing day. The last thing she needed was the press talking more than they already were.
Jasmine tensed when she felt a pair of calloused hands begin to knead her back. Eli bent down behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder, keeping his eyes steadied on hers in the mirror as he spoke. “I'm worried about you. You've bailed on rehearsal every day this week.”
“I'm fine,” Jasmine repeated in a firmer tone. She faked a smile and picked up a make-up brush to finish retouching her foundation. “This carrying a child thing is just a little new to me, that’s all, but I promise you have nothing to worry about. I had the sound assistant grab me some tea and I took a nap in my trailer. I'll be ready for tonight's show. You have my word.”
Eli pulled up a chair from the other side of the dressing room and sat down beside her. “Well you only have a few more months to go right?”
Jasmine nodded but her expression remained somber. A few more months seemed like a lifetime.
“See?” Eli continued. “The finish line is near. You’ll be able to get back to normal in no time.”
“Eli, my life is never going to be normal again,” Jasmine reminded him for what felt like the millionth time. “I’m having a baby. Being a mother is a lifelong gig.”
“I know, I know,” Eli said in a cautious tone. “It's just...have you thought about how hard it’s going to be? About what it might do to your career? Jazz, you’re just starting to find your footing in this industry. I just think you need to explore all of your—”
“I'll cope,” Jasmine spoke up, cutting him off. She was so not in the mood for this spiel again.
Eli sighed and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Jazz,” he said in a cautious tone. “I hate to do this to you, but…”
The anxiety in Eli’s voice made Jasmine turn to meet his gaze. “What?” she pressed, feeling a sick feeling surface in the pit of her stomach. The only difference was that this time it wasn’t the baby. “Oh god, you’re not about to fire me, are you?”
“Of course not,” Eli fired back. “It’s just…he’s back. A bouncer just spotted him entering the club, but he has a ticket this time. We can’t just kick him out.”
Jasmine didn’t need to ask who he was. “Shit,” she muttered, reaching up to rub away the tension building in her temples. This was the very last thing she needed right now.
Eli gave Jasmine a sympathetic look. “I know,” he said, noting her distress. At this point he was well aware of the effect Liam’s presence had on her.
Jasmine sat up straighter and struggled to pull herself together. “Well did he at least come alone this time?” she questioned.
Eli nodded and Jasmine let out a breath of relief. At that moment, one of the show runners knocked on her dressing room door and entered before she could say anything. His name was Stephen, and he was the sort of man who looked like he’d eaten one too many Twinkies in his lifetime.
“You're on,” Stephen said to Jasmine without looking up from his clipboard. “And try to actually seem like you’re enjoying yourself tonight, alright sweetheart? We aren’t paying you for a lullaby. We’re paying you for a performance.”
Stephen turned to Eli and pointed a stubby finger at him. “And last I checked, we aren’t paying you to sit in here and gab with her. You’re needed backstage.”
Eli and Jasmine both nodded, but as soon as Stephen’s back was turned, they snickered and rolled their eyes.
“Well, alright then,” Jasmine said as she dabbed a final layer of gloss onto her lips. “Duty calls.”
Eli waited for Martin to disappear before grabbing hold of Jasmine by the arm. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble,” he assured her, picking up right where their conversation had left off.
“Trust me, you don't need to worry about Liam,” Jasmine insisted. “I’ve been dealing with him since I was five years old. He’s like a housefly…annoying but harmless.”
Eli fixed his dark eyes onto hers. “Yeah, but things are a little different now don’t you think?” he countered, flicking his gaze down to her stomach, where a small bump was threatening to expose itself through the silk fabric of her dress.
Jasmine swallowed hard. “I know,” she whispered, adjusting the material to disguise her stomach. “But this isn’t his problem.” A sad sigh escaped her mouth before she could reel it back in. “It’s mine.”
Chapter two
Stepping on stage to perform in front of hundreds never got any less nerve-wracking. Each time Jasmine did it, she felt the exact same way she had during each one of her high school talent show performances. Of course, the glaring differences were that her singing had improved by leaps and bounds since then, and her band was a hell of a lot better too. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know any of them by name.
As talented as they were, they were still meager session musicians scrapping to make ends meet. Jasmine was a signed performer. There wasn’t much they had in common, but she envied them all the same. She could do without having to stress her vocal cords during her second trimester, but a contract was a contract. There wasn’t any backing out. Not without a world of legal trouble anyway.
Jasmine would never admit it aloud, but she was counting down the days until her duties to her record label would be up. Performing every other night was becoming a little too much for her to handle in her condition. In an ideal world, she would have retired a long time ago to concentrate on her studies like most people her age, but she couldn’t. She needed to make her money while the sun was still shining, because what would come of her career after she gave birth was entirely up in the air, and the only person she could really depend on was herself.
It wasn't that Jasmine’s family didn’t care about her. She knew they did, a hell of a lot actually, but there had been a strain in their relationship ever since she became famous. She wasn’t about to go crawling back to them now. Especially since this was her mistake.
Mistake.
Every time Jasmine thought the word, she silently apologized to the tiny life growing inside of her. The act itself had been a mistake, but the result? Well, it went without saying that she was already in love with the little person she was incubating.
Jasmine stepped into the spotlight and reached up to make sure her mic was securely behind her ear. The band began the first song of the night and she met her cue without any effort, plastering on a smile as she began her set, but every movement she made felt stiffer than intended. She kicked things up a few notches when she spotted Stephen staring at her from backstage, but it was a lot easier said than done.
Putting on an entertaining show was the least of Jasmine's worries right now. Her stomach was in knots and her heart wouldn't stop racing. She couldn’t get over the fact that Liam was in the audience hearing her belt out one of the many ballads she’d written about him since their encounter. It was the definition of irony.
Jasmine searched the room for Liam and briefly fumbled up her lyrics when she spotted him leaning against the bar. The distressed leather jacket he was wearing pulled at his elbows as he rested them on the counter behind him, and a tuff of shaggy brown hair failed to disguise the condescending smirk on his face. She swallowed hard and attempted to act like she hadn’t seen him, but his eyes latched onto hers before she could. She tried her best to ignore him, continuing to sing as though nothing was wrong, but her anxi
ety was apparent when she struggled to hit notes that usually came easy for her.
Liam laughed at Jasmine's reaction and raised his drink in the air in a mock salute. He guzzled down the last of it and slapped the bar for another, keeping his eyes steadied on hers as she continued with her flawed performance.
When the song came to an end and another began, Jasmine failed to meet her cue and Eli decided that enough was enough. He’d been watching the whole ordeal unfold from backstage, and the series of expletives that were flying from Stephen’s mouth made it pretty clear that he had to do something. Ignoring Jasmine’s request not to get involved, he stormed onto the venue floor and grabbed Liam up by the collar, causing his drink to go flying.
