Table of Contents
INTERRACIAL LOVE STORIES Title Page
Picture Perfect Passion by Sandra Sinclair
About Sandra Sinclair
Prove Your Love to Me by Marcus Williams
About Marcus Williams
Logging In and Out of Love by Shanika Patrice
About Shanika Patrice
Check out the ADULT ROMANCE compilation!
BONUS - Preview of OLYMPIC LOVE by Dana Burns
INTERRACIAL
LOVE
STORIES
- A Sexy Bundle of 3 BWWM Erotic Romance Short Stories From Steam Books
Sandra Sinclair * Marcus Williams
Shanika Patrice * Steam Books
Copyright © 2013 Steam Books Erotica & Romance
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
PICTURE
PERFECT
PASSION
Sandra Sinclair
Lance was bored.
As he set down his glass of bourbon on the counter after taking a sip, he sighed inwardly, thinking that if it only wasn’t one of his friends’ birthdays, he would not have allowed himself to be dragged to a bar at all. He was not someone who liked to come to bars, after all, preferring the solitude of his apartment which had a magnificent view of the city.
His only comfort was that the bar his friends had chosen was a good one – a classy high-rise bar with views almost as good as his own, a beautiful interior and excellent lighting, all of which were the first things that caught his eye as soon as he entered, being an experienced photographer.
He had loved taking pictures for as long as he could remember, first taking imaginary ones with his plastic toy camera and then taking real ones with the first real camera – analog like all the other cameras of that time but real just the same – he received for his eighth birthday. He loved taking pictures of just about anything, but especially of people, amazed at how unique each one looked and how many different expressions they could make, conveying a different emotion with just the slightest change in expression.
It came as no surprise, then, that he ended up becoming a professional photographer and after years of training and working, he finally managed to have his own studio. He did not stop there, however, and after producing many beautiful photos, some of which went on to win awards, he became the choice of some celebrities and a few elite modeling and advertising agencies so that his studio was now one of the most famous in New York.
Indeed, he had achieved considerable success at a young age, having only turned thirty-three two months ago, but apparently, that did not exclude him from having to hang out with his friends, who were currently playing billiards in the glass enclosed room or flirting with the female customers, making it seem as if he had come to the bar alone.
Oh, what good friends he had.
He was about to pick up his glass to take another sip when suddenly, a woman in a blue-green mini dress with dark brown skin and wavy black hair flowing just a few inches past her shoulders sat down on the empty stool beside him.
“Cosmopolitan, frozen,” she told the bartender as she rested her elbows on the bar.
Sipping from his glass, he watched as the bartender started making the drink then glanced at her, thinking that she looked beautiful from the side, her cheekbones just prominent enough and her jaw line strong but still feminine, making him wish that he could take a picture of her.
“Like what you see?” she teased, turning her head to look at her with a grin.
He put down his glass and snickered. “I thought I was doing my best to be discreet.”
“It’s alright,” she said. “I’m used to people looking at me.”
Lance grinned. “Is that so?”
“So what is someone as good-looking as you doing sulking all alone at a bar like this?” she asked.
“Was it that obvious that I was sulking?”
“More obvious than you were staring,” she said.
Before he could answer, the bartender served the woman her drink and he watched her smile at him as she thanked him and then lifted her glass to her glossy lips, her slender fingers which were crowned with French-manicured tips closing around the stem of the glass with a certain finesse.
“You’re staring again,” she said as she set the glass down.
“Forgive me,” he said, grinning. “It’s a bad habit of mine.”
She smiled. “You haven’t answered my question.”
He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to remember it. “Oh, that one about me sulking?”
She nodded.
“It’s my friend’s birthday so I couldn’t refuse, though it seems I’ve already been left out of the party.”
“I see.”
“And you? All alone?”
“If I were, would you keep me company?”
He took another sip from his bourbon, emptying his glass without taking his eyes off her, then shrugged. “I might be persuaded to.”
He didn’t know where that answer came from or why he was flirting with her for that matter when it was not his custom, but somehow, it felt so easy to flirt with her, almost as natural as it felt to hold a camera in his hands and take one shot after another.
She chuckled. “I can be very persuasive when I want something,” she promised, running her fingers lightly across one of his arms.
“I can imagine that.” He caught her hand and got out of his seat. “Would you like to dance?”
“Think you can keep up?” she challenged.
“I think I have some good moves of my own,” he said, leading her to the dance floor.
“Indeed?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Ooh, Lance has got himself a girl,” one of his friends, Andy, teased as he passed by the table where he was seated.
“Oh, shut up,” Lance told him.
The lady smiled. “So your name is Lance?”
He nodded. “And your name is?”
She paused, as if hesitating to give it, then finally spoke. “Denisha.”
“Beautiful name,” he said as he started dancing. “It suits you.”
He could almost swear she blushed then, though he could barely see the reddish tint on her dark cheeks. He, too, felt like blushing, in awe of the amazing woman in front of him, whose beauty, he knew, was not merely skin deep, but did his best to suppress it since he did not want to appear unmanly. It was hard to believe but for the first time, he had met a woman who he did not just want to take photographs of, but get to know better in every way.
Denisha.
~ ~ ~
“Denisha!” Rebecca shouted from the other side of the bathroom door, which she was currently knocking on persistently. “You’re going to be late for your photo shoot and I’m going to be late for work if you don’t get your ass out of there right now.”
Denisha sighed and, giving one last glance at the mirror to make sure there was nothing stuck between her teeth and no pimple that she had missed, she turned the knob and got out.
“It’s all yours,” she told the woman she shared the apartment with, who worked as a nurse at the maternity clinic a few blocks away. Then, she headed to her room, rushing when she realized that Rebecca wasn’t lying and that there were only twenty minutes left before her photo shoot, which was a shoot for an up-and-co
ming lingerie brand that was taking place at a luxurious spa.
“Shit.”
As quickly as she could, she changed clothes, gathered her things and went downstairs to get a cab. Luckily, she was able to get one within seconds and there wasn’t much traffic so she was able to reach the spa with a little over ten minutes to spare.
“Denisha,” Gail, her agent, greeted her at the entrance and ushered her inside. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it. Lance hates it when the photo shoot doesn’t start on time.”
“Lance?” Denisha asked, immediately thinking about the man she had met at a bar two days ago with the same first name, a man whom she had seduced on a dare from her friends who didn’t believe she would seduce a white guy, and yet, as much as she had tried to deny it, had gotten naturally attracted to. She did not get his number, though, nor even knew his last name so she was certain they would never meet again.
“Lance Martins,” Gail said. “He’s the owner of LM Studio and a renowned photographer. He’s the one who’s going to be behind the camera today.”
“Oh,” Denisha said, thinking that it probably couldn’t be the same man she had met.
She followed Gail into a room where there were already other three models who were all white, two of whom gave her a scrutinizing glance while another did not so much as bat an eyelash at her. Ignoring them, she changed into her first outfit – a gold, lace-trimmed silk chemise topped by a beaded, long-sleeved knee-length robe that was also made of gold silk – and allowed the make-up artist to put make-up on her face.
Then, she waited to be called, admiring the artistic Turkish interior of the spa as she did, which reminded her of a sultan’s harem with its elaborate tapestries adorning the domed ceiling, rich carpets and magnificent marble columns. Then again, she supposed that was no surprise, since women in the harems were pampered, after all.
She almost felt like one of them, having been all dolled up and prepared to fulfill a certain role, but at least, she thought, she would not end up being used for the pleasure of the king, though she supposed that was not exactly a bad idea.
Once more, her thoughts drifted to Lance. After two dances and a very interesting conversation, she had left him just as Cinderella had left her prince at the stroke of midnight, telling him that she had to go because she had suddenly remembered she had someplace else to go to, though in truth, it was because she had already fulfilled the dare and had been afraid to go beyond it. He had been shocked and reluctant to let her go but his friends had suddenly emerged out of the billiards room and, taking advantage of him being occupied, she ran off and headed for home with her friend, who had come to bear witness to whether or not she would be able to seduce a white guy.
As soon as she had reached her apartment, she had felt relieved and proud of herself for having pulled the dare off. Still, a part of her wondered what would have happened if she had stayed a little longer, or a lot, or if she had left the bar with him much later. Even now, as she sat there on one of the plush divans, waiting for her turn in front of the camera, she wondered how it would be like to kiss him and to run her hands through his porcelain skin.
“Denisha!” Gail’s voice broke into her thoughts. “It’s your turn now.”
Taking a deep breath, she followed Gail down a short corridor and into a Turkish bath and was about to take her place on the windowsill just as the creative director had instructed, when she saw a familiar face that made her stop.
The face of the man she had just been daydreaming about.
As he recognized her, he, too, paused, their gazes clashing in the silence. Then, he approached her, offering his hand.
“Hi Denisha,” he said. “I’m Lance and I’ll be taking your pictures today.”
At first, she was too stunned by his pretense to speak, but she gathered her composure and smiled as she took his hand. “It’s an honor to work with you.”
He turned around then, going back to his post and she, too, perched herself on the windowsill. So he was pretending they hadn’t met before, was he? Was it because he was punishing her for leaving him so abruptly? Or was he simply being professional?
Whatever the reason was, he was treating her only as a model, as another object to be photographed, and as much as it annoyed her, she decided not to let it bother her. She was a professional, too, after all, and what’s more, she knew she was good at her profession and she would show him exactly that.
~ ~ ~
She was showing off, Lance thought.
At first, he thought he was simply imagining it, but now, as he watched her tilting her chin, straightening her shoulders and giving him one strong pose after another, he knew that he was right.
She was seducing him, too, just as she had the night they had met, except this time with her body—which was even more perfect than he had envisioned—rather than words, and damn, she was succeeding.
For the past two nights he had dreamed of her and during his waking hours, he had wondered if he would ever see her again. He had tried to look for her, as well, checking online to see if he could find a way to reach her, only to find that there were many women named Denisha living in New York. He was starting to think he would really never see her again and then suddenly, she appeared right in front of him.
At first, he could not believe it, but then, he knew there was no way he could ever mistake her for someone else. He was not surprised, either, to find that she was a model. After all, she looked the part perfectly.
With each picture of her that he took, he found his breath taken away, his heart pounding, and when the photo shoot was finally over, he felt breathless, but strangely, not at all exhausted. On the contrary, he had never felt more alive or excited and he could barely wait for everyone else to leave so that he could finally be alone with Denisha, telling Gail that he wanted to take a few more pictures of her and give her a few tips.
“No wonder you’re used to people looking at you,” he told her as soon as they were alone.
“And it’s no wonder you have a habit of staring at people,” she said. “So what kind of pictures would you like to take of me?”
“Actually, that was just an excuse,” he said, approaching her. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “A while ago, I almost thought that we had never met.”
“Sorry about that,” he said, running his hands through her hair. “But I can’t let the others in the room know that I’m partial towards any model.”
“Of course,” she said.
“But it’s different now that we’re alone.”
With those words, he closed the gap between them, bringing his lips to hers. He had wanted to kiss her that night at the bar but had been able to and now that he finally had the chance, he pressed his lips firmly against hers. She resisted only for a moment, then gave in, letting him know that she wanted the kiss just as he did, parting her lips for him. He deepened the kiss, letting their tongues clash and pushing her head back as he placed an arm around her.
He moved his hand up and down her spine and was about to cup one of her breasts when she suddenly pushed him back. He looked at her, confused and a little disappointed, but grinned when he saw her ebony eyes gleaming with a lust that he was sure mirrored his own, along with a hint of mischief.
“Why don’t you take a few more pictures like you told Gail?” she dared, taking her place in front of the camera. “Though I have to tell you, these pictures are absolutely for your eyes only.”
He watched as she slowly unzipped the front of her sleeveless black blouse, staring at him. Unable to resist her offer, he stood behind the camera and adjusted the lens, taking a picture of her with her mischievous look and the zipper of her blouse halfway down.
When she had unzipped it entirely, she turned to the side, letting it hang on her arms and giving him a view of her breasts, though still concealed under her pale purple lace bra, from the side, and he took another picture.
Then, she removed the blouse entirely and slung it over her right shoulder while she leaned against the wall.
Click.
She tossed her blouse into a corner and undid her pants, popping the buttons open to give him a glimpse of her red underwear. Then, she stepped out of them so that she was just in her bra and underwear and then lied down on the divan in the room, her legs dangling over the armrest.
Click.
She removed her bra, revealing her firm breasts, which were just the right size for her and not too small as he had observed in a lot of models. He almost left his post then and there to run to her, wanting to see how those fleshy mounds would feel beneath his palm, but summoning his self-control anew, he stayed where he was, simply watching as she stood beside one of the columns in the room with her back to him, wrapping one arm around it so that her dark brown skin contrasted beautifully with the white marble, then turned her head to look at him.
Click.
Next, she took off her underwear, tossing it on top of her other clothes, then lied down once more on the divan, this time with her arms under her, concealing her breasts.
Click.
She crooked her finger at him and for a moment, he thought it was just another pose but upon realizing she was inviting him to join her, he turned off the camera and went to her.
She made room for him, sitting up and as soon as he sat beside her, she kissed him deeply. As they kissed, she unbuttoned the front of his shirt while he reached out to cup her breasts as he had longed to do earlier, kneading them gently before rolling the nipples between his fingers.
She gasped, for a second, stopping at her task of unbuttoning his shirt but eventually, she was able to accomplish it and she pushed his shirt off him, casting it aside. Afterwards, she knelt in front of him, undoing his pants. He lifted his hips so she could remove them off him and then hissed as he felt her fingers wrap around his cock, which was already hard, taking it out of his briefs.
Interracial Love Stories--A Sexy Bundle of 3 BWWM Erotic Romance Short Stories From Steam Books Page 1
