Shades of Sexy: Six Uber Hot Stories

by Daniels, Wynter

  Disbelief clawed at the back of my throat as I closed my fingers around a nipple clamp.

  A warm breeze whispered around my ankles and I glanced toward the sky, laughing. Shoving the metal into my pocket, I headed back to my car.

  No one would ever believe I’d had the experience I did, but I knew it was as real as the ocean and the sky. And I knew I’d never be the same for it.

  The time had come for me to move on. Maybe I’d even take my handsome neighbor up on his offer to buy me dinner sometime. I was so beyond ready to start living again.

  Without Rob, without regrets and without all the doubts that had been dragging me down since my divorce. I said a silent thank you to Ty and Bernardo then I drove out of the parking lot toward the rest of my life.

  ###

  Getting Even With Warren

  Chapter One

  Macy Halstead never hated her husband more than she did at his funeral. An assortment of his mistresses—sobbing and sniffling in their black dresses and netted hats—stood out from the bluebloods like brightly colored bubblegum balls in a box of fine chocolates. By her estimation, half a dozen of them had the nerve to show up. If Warren wasn’t dead already, she’d ring his neck.

  Strangely, she couldn’t put her finger on one physical characteristic common to all Warren’s former mistresses. Nothing she could point out to say, “That one’s prettier than me,” or “This one’s thinner.” They were all different. The redhead all the way on the left looked almost homely. And the blonde in the back row had at least forty pounds to spare, quite a bit larger than Macy’s size-sixteen frame. She’d wondered if Warren cheated because he found her fat, but now she suspected it had nothing to do with that.

  At the podium, a colleague of Warren’s from the law firm, droned on about what a wonderful person her husband had been. Did he know the bastard had nailed everything that moved, including the speaker’s own wife?

  “Warren never encountered a challenge he didn’t meet head on. If he came up against a brick wall, he thrust straight through it.”

  Macy clenched her teeth. Warren thrust into things, all right. Every hole from Coral Gables to Key West.

  She tried to tune out the eulogy, none of it true, not a single flowery word. Yet his two youngest sons sat in the front row with their wives, crying their eyes out, probably wondering how much he’d left them in his will. Had Warren shared the news that Macy had asked for a divorce? She didn’t think so. He’d never been one to admit defeat easily.

  Why had she come, anyway? Her marriage had ended more than a month before Warren’s heart attack. And frankly, she’d grown to hate him. But proper etiquette had always mattered to her. She wished she didn’t care what her husband’s hoity-toity friends thought. They’d made it clear many times how little they cared what she thought. Never failed to remind her she wasn’t one of them.

  Lauren, seated beside her, rubbed Macy’s arm in a gesture most observers would interpret as sympathy. But Macy knew better. Her best friend merely offered encouragement. Only Lauren understood the full extent of Macy’s humiliation. Lauren’s first husband hadn’t cheated with the extravagant number of women Warren had, but he’d engaged in one affair for nearly the entire eight years of their marriage. When Lauren learned of the tryst, she’d been more devastated by the emotional breach than the physical. Thankfully Lauren had found a good man a few years ago and she seemed enviably happy now.

  I’ll never be so lucky.

  She didn’t have that drop-dead-gorgeous-blonde-bombshell thing going on that Lauren did. No. With her straight dark hair and plain brown eyes, Macy paled next her friend’s beauty. Thanks to Warren, she didn’t have a law degree, either. He’d admitted a year or two into their marriage that he’d asked her to quit law school because he didn’t want a wife competing with him on any level. Purely selfish. Not that she minded her job as a paralegal, but she’d never make the money she would have had she continued in school.

  Her cranky mood lifted a little when the eulogy concluded and the funeral director took the podium. Thank God this charade would end soon.

  The pallbearers accompanied the casket out and she resisted the urge to shout good riddance at her husband’s corpse. Good riddance to all the lies, all the deceptions and that awful pain. She shuddered at the memory of that first day she’d discovered another woman’s panties in the pocket of his suit jacket as she took it to the cleaners on her way to work.

  Then, like the layers of an onion, she’d peeled away his half-truths, excuses and inconsistencies. How could she have believed in him, in them? She’d never be such a blind fool again.

  “Your turn.” Lauren nudged her forward, jarring her back to the present.

  Macy stood, filed out of the pew with her head high as she fell into step behind Warren’s nearly identical daughters-in-law. As she exited the auditorium, she caught sight of a lavish spread set up on long tables in the wide hallway. Warren’s firm had made all the arrangements and as always, spared no expense.

  Everything shouted top-of-the-line from the oysters on the half shell to the Russian caviar to the pate de foie gras. Shouldn’t funeral food be simple? But then, nothing about Warren had been simple. He’d have loved all the elegance and the banter. He was in his element when an occasion called for schmoozing. And judging by how his sons now chatted up Warren’s personal attorney, she knew there had to be some serious schmoozing in progress.

  “The demon spawns are trying to find out what he left them.” Lauren looped her arm through Macy’s. “Assholes.”

  “You read my mind.” Macy held up her palm, refusing a tea sandwich from a passing server. “Far as I recall, Warren left everything to the two of them. I still have his will in my safe deposit box, although he probably changed it after I moved out.”

  “You’re still legally his wife,” Lauren pointed out.

  Macy nodded. “A wife with a pre-nup. I never wanted any of his money. His fidelity would have been good, though.” As more mourners filled the room, the din of voices grew louder and the pounding in her head intensified. “How long do we have to stay?” she whispered in Lauren’s ear.

  “That’s completely up to you.”

  When she heard Lauren’s sharp intake of breath, she followed her friend’s gaze to a light-skinned black man in his mid-thirties wearing navy chinos and tan polo shirt. In the sea of tightly buttoned-up white men in black suits and women in designer dresses, he stood out like a juicy peach in a bowl full of raisins. Stunningly handsome, his piercing amber eyes reminded Macy of Warren’s.

  Of course. That had to be Alex, his eldest son, the one she’d never met. He caught her staring and headed straight for her. She vaguely noticed Lauren dropping her arm and taking a step away. “I’m going to grab a bite of something decadently high in calories.” Then she disappeared.

  She nodded. Up close, his eyes resembled Warren’s even more, only they held a warmth her husband’s hadn’t. “Macy?” He offered a hand and when she took it, he pulled her into a hug.

  Her heart hammered furiously. When he released her, an inexplicable emptiness settled over her. She coughed to clear the cobwebs from her throat. “Um, yes. I’m Macy. You must be Alex.”

  His smile brought out Warren’s dimples. Only on Alex, they looked a million times sexier. “Nice to meet you.” His brow furrowed as he shook his head. “I mean, you know, the circumstances suck, but…”

  Their eyes locked. “It’s nice to meet you too.” She patted his arm and felt a rush of heat bloom inside her.

  Talk about inappropriate. What’s wrong with me?

  “Sorry I’m late. My plane from Atlanta was delayed.”

  She rubbed the base of her left ring finger and glanced toward the buffet table. Warren’s other sons stood too close together, staring at her and Alex. Warren had never mentioned any problems among his three children, but she wondered now if some sort of rivalry existed. She knew little about Alex. He’d come from “the wrong side of the blanket,” as Warren s
o callously put it. Macy had always wondered if Warren neglected to speak much about his eldest son because Alex was half black.

  According to Warren, he’d had a brief affair with Alex’s mother and had never truly been sure Alex belonged to him. But looking at the man’s eyes erased any doubts. Warren had to have seen the resemblance as well.

  “Warren and I separated last month.” Where had that come from? She quickly clamped her mouth shut, afraid she’d blurt out something else just as tactless.

  “Oh?” Alex’s lips lifted in a sad smile. “I hope my father didn’t hurt you too.”

  She schooled her expression, but too late. She’d already reacted to his words. Was she the only person who hadn’t known about Warren’s philandering? The familiar pain seized her, but somehow it hurt a little less than the last time she’d allowed herself to think about it.

  He squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually rude like that.”

  She shook her head. “Not rude. Merely honest. You knew him well.”

  He leaned closer and she drew in a breath laced with his piney cologne. “He was an asshole, wasn’t he?”

  A laugh escaped before she could stop it. She quickly covered her mouth. A few people turned to look at her with raised eyebrows.

  “Yeah. That describes him.” She couldn’t keep from staring at him. He bore so many of Warren’s traits, the strong jawline, chiseled features and tall stature. Only Alex had curly brown hair where his father’s had been straight and gray. And Alex had a better smile and absolutely perfect teeth. Not to mention caramel skin.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  She prayed her face didn’t show the rush of heat his gaze had inspired. “Okay.”

  “How in the world did my father snag you?” His eyes slid slowly over her body sending a shudder of awareness through her.

  Her nipples pressed painfully against the lace fabric of her bra. She tamped down forbidden desire. She could not be turned on by her dead husband’s son.

  Or could she? Warren had broken every rule out there about fidelity and propriety. Why should she keep honoring vows he’d all but ignored for the four years of their marriage? And wouldn’t it be sweet to have an illicit affair with Warren’s own son. But she couldn’t possibly go through with it. It sounded so…juvenile. “Um…what?”

  Now Alex laughed. This time even more heads whipped toward them. “You’re a beautiful woman and what are you, like thirty years younger than him? You look around my age.”

  “Warren had about twenty-eight years on me. And thanks for the compliment.” She liked that he said whatever came to his mind. Too few people did.

  “Forgive me if I’m being nosy, but what did you see in him?”

  Her heels started aching. She shifted from foot to foot.

  His grin brought out those sexy dimples. “Sorry. I’m doing it again. This isn’t the time or place, huh?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really.” She glanced over his shoulder at Lauren, who gave her a questioning stare. “Would you excuse me a moment?”

  She whisked Lauren to a corner away from the crowd. “Why did you leave me alone with him?”

  Lauren let out a groan. “You seem to be enjoying yourself. He’s completely hot. Don’t you deserve to hang out with a gorgeous guy after all Warren put you through? Who gives a rat’s ass what these idiots think? If they were decent people, they’d have clued you in on Warren’s extracurricular activities.”

  Her friend had a point. Warren treated her worse than any man ever had. But she’d thought no one knew that side of him except her and all his mistresses. His cronies and hoity-toity social-circle members shouldn’t know about his philandering ways, yet she had a feeling they did. Apparently he’d made no effort to be discreet. The notion that everyone knew felt like salt on an existing wound.

  No wonder I feel like such a fool.

  But he’d been good to her—in the beginning. He’d treated her like a princess and advised her about her career. Even pulled a few strings to get her a paralegal job at a top firm. She’d looked up to him like a mentor or a father figure at first, eventually as a lover. She’d trusted him and he’d deceived her. Again and again and again. Bastard.

  She’d given the relationship her all. And in the month since she’d left him, she’d never once had the desire to be with a man—any man. Until now.

  But why shouldn’t she have some fun? So what that Alex was his son. Maybe it would make her feel a little better. Like dishing out just a smidgeon of the shit Warren had given her.

  “I do deserve it, don’t I?”

  Lauren winked at her. “Am I still driving you home?”

  She hugged her friend. “I think I can find a ride. Thanks for everything.”

  After walking Lauren out, she returned to the reception and found Alex standing a few yards from Warren’s other two sons, who looked so beyond pasty. Especially when compared to Alex, whose rich, dark skin contrasted so dramatically with theirs. Hard to believe they shared any DNA at all.

  “I feared you’d slipped out and left me here with the vultures.” He gestured toward his half-brothers.

  Macy covered her mouth in feigned shock.

  “But I’m so glad you didn’t.” He hooked her arm and led her away from the buffet. “Would you be offended if I asked you to leave with me? I don’t really think you want to be here any more than I do.”

  Relief washed over her. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Two

  Alex settled into the booth across from Macy and glanced around the diner, then back at her. Her high-buttoned black blouse hid all but the hint of cleavage. The hot pink ascot poking out of her breast pocket struck him as a little rebellious for a funeral. Of course, he’d already pegged her as anything but the typical grieving widow. She wore little makeup, yet her complexion glowed with peaches-and-cream freshness. “Good choice. You don’t see many of these classic diners in south Florida.”

  Her brow crinkled and her moss-colored eyes scrutinized him. “I didn’t think you’d spent much time here.”

  Oops! Confession time. “Actually, I spent several months in the area filming a documentary about the Everglades last year. I emailed my father telling him I’d be in town, but he never responded. Guess he had no interest in seeing me.” Since he’d learned of the old man’s death, he’d beaten himself up about not trying harder to contact Warren during that time.

  A waitress approached and held her pen over her order pad. “Hiya, folks. What can I get you?”

  Macy smiled up at the woman. “I’ll have a double cheeseburger with fries. And a diet cola.”

  He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. So many of the women he knew lived on salads and stuff that looked like grass clippings. Macy had curves, and he liked that. “Double that. But instead of diet soda, make mine the real stuff.”

  As soon as the waitress left, Macy picked up where they’d left off. “So I gather you’re a producer, director, something like that?”

  His gut tightened. Apparently his father hadn’t talked about him much. Yet Warren had never failed to tell him how his stepbrothers’ careers progressed, how he’d set them both up in an office supply business that pulled down millions each year. They’d both flunked out of college, wrecked cars and gotten in trouble with the law, but Warren thought they deserved every advantage money could buy. Yet he’d cried poverty when Alex had asked for a loan to help him through school.

  How foolish he’d been to think the old man had been proud of his achievements. The few times he’d spent with him, Warren had made him feel like less. Less than his other two sons. His white sons. Never mind that he’d had to work his way through college, rather than have Daddy give him the free ride he’d afforded the others.

  Bastard’s dead. Time to let go of the resentment.

  “Actually, I’m a cameraman. I work for Natural Resources Television.”

  “Wow. Sounds interesting. Tell me more.” She threaded her fin
gers together and rested her chin on them. Her glossy chestnut hair fell to her shoulders and curled under. It looked like it would be silky and soft and he yearned to touch it. To touch her. Maybe he’d get to later. He tamped down the rush of excitement that accompanied the thought.

  “Not much to tell, really.” He shrugged. “I travel the world with a film crew, get loads of bug bites, you know. The usual day at the office.”

  Her musical laugh lit up the room. No doubt his father found her charming. “What do you do?”

  “Nothing as interesting as you.” A cloud passed quickly over her face. “I was in college when I met your father, pre-law.”

  A law clerk, no doubt. Just as his mother had been when she had an affair with his father.

  “We married before I finished my first year of law school and Warren didn’t want me to finish. So I became a paralegal.”

  The regret in her eyes tightened his chest. Made him despise his father even more. He’d hurt this woman, just as he had Alex’s mother. “But you said you two separated recently?”

  She rubbed the base of her ring finger as he’d seen her do earlier. “Yeah, well I found out some stuff.” She shook her head and her thick, shiny hair swept over her shoulders and reflected the overhead light. “It’s not important now.”

  “Let me guess. You found out he had an affair.” The shock on her face made him think he’d spoken too bluntly. “I’m sorry. Guy had a rep.”

  Her shoulders sank and the booth seemed to swallow her.

  He reached across the narrow table and took her hand. Her skin felt too cold. He squeezed it, hoping to warm it up. “Sometimes I have a big mouth. I think I got that from him.”

  That won him a laugh, although her gaze remained downcast. He didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he stroked her soft skin. Her cheeks flushed pink and her smile widened. She didn’t seem in a hurry to take her hand back.

  When their food arrived, he dived in, but Macy just picked at her fries.

  “You should have told me. You prefer all the fancy stuff they had after the funeral.” He lifted her chin with a finger. “You’re just slumming here with me because you feel sorry for me.”