In my Arms Tonight (NYC Singles Book 2) by Sasha Clinton Page A

eating sand the other day at school?” Rambling, she ignored the noises in the background. “Maybe I should have given him custody of the kids. What was I thinking, spending thousands in lawyer fees and signing up for so much responsibility? Nobody’s grateful for everything I do. I feel like a maid.” She sighed, putting up her fingers to her temple, when a shriek cut through the two other shrieks.
    “Mom, Jimmy bit me!”
    “Not again.” Gesturing in the air, she slammed a hand on the door.
    Alex was spared from having to respond by an earth-shattering yell. “Mom!”
    “Do something!”
    An awkward pause chugged by. The lady attempted to get her kids to stop fighting over the vase, but with no success.
    When she returned her attention to him, Alex tried to quickly finish. “Please consider voting for me. If you’d like to learn more or you have any questions, I’m having a meet-and-greet in the park over there next week, where you can—”
    “I’ll vote for you if you can shut my kids up.” Her dark circles sank an inch deeper when she heard the crash of the vase splintering into fragments. “Shit. That was my mother’s antique vase. Boys! Which one of you broke it?”
    “Thank you for your time, ma’am. I believe my plans for busy working families will be of special interest to you.” Sensing things were going to get ugly, Alex slunk away, pitying the poor woman, as the din of shouts spun out of control.
    He inched towards the next door.
    A wet drop hit his shoe.
    In no time at all, thunder growled and water droplets came down like furious bolts, drenching his head and soaking his clothes. Rather than a slow drizzle that grew in intensity, the clouds threw down bombs of water straight away.
    When it rains, it pours, huh?
    Using the leaflets he was carrying to shield his head, Alex sprinted across the street, but it was coming down so hard, he had to find shelter. He found a dry spot under a door awning in front of house number 1715.
    Shaking the moisture away, he took an involuntary step backwards when a stray drop of rain splashed over his face.
    His spine pressed into the doorbell and it went off.

K at was lying on the bed, her vibrator driving her towards an orgasm, when the bell rang.
    Moaning one third in pleasure, one third in annoyance and one third in pure frustration as the climax she’d been building up to fizzled out, Kat fired a sigh to the ceiling.
    This was the first time in six weeks she had made some time for sex and somebody had chosen to drop by right at this moment.
    “Argh!” Her nails attacked the fluffy mattress, trying to tear through it.
    She’d been so close to coming—seconds away. And now she was God knew how many weeks away from coming again. Cursing, she snatched a few tissues and got to work wiping herself up.
    Who the hell was outside her house in the rain at the precise time when she was trying to give herself some much-needed sexual release?
    She’d ordered nothing on Amazon or eBay and she had no relatives or friends who wanted to see her so much that they would battle the crappy weather for it.
    Slipping on the first item of clothing she could locate, which happened to be a white camisole and a pair of shorts, Kat scurried to the door.
    This had better not be a salesman trying to sell her insurance or she was going to blow up in his face. Wrapped up in her anger, Kat didn’t notice the television remote in her path. She stepped on the remote, which turned on the television.
    She always left that thing dangling precariously on the edge of the couch, so it was no surprise that it had fallen off. Since she was in no mood to shut off the noise, Kat proceeded to the door, letting whatever was playing on TV play.
    The face on the screen of her home security system was one she didn’t expect to see.
    “Hello, I am Alex Summer. I’m running for mayor and I—” His sentence cropped itself midway when she opened the door and his chocolate eyes nailed