Tags:
Erótica,
Romance,
Literature & Fiction,
Contemporary,
BDSM,
Erotic Romance,
interracial romance,
multicultural,
Multicultural & Interracial,
spanking,
Sadomasochism,
flogging,
TAMED,
FIT,
FIT TRILOGY,
Egyptian Heroine,
Latian American Hero
that target heart rate, and not once did he do anything even the slightest bit weird. He didn’t cry. He didn’t beg. Why? Why didn’t you come to my baby sister’s birthday party? Why? Which was particularly impressive since he had to deal with a solid hour of everyone at Maria’s party, including Violet and Grant, asking where Nailah was. His dads were looking forward to meeting her. Connie and Maria were looking forward to hazing her into the family, and Violet had some questions about remodeling a rental.
His dad saw the disappointment in his eyes so he didn’t bring it up again, but he did say Nailah had an open invitation to come by whenever she wanted.
She didn’t even mention the party, even when they were done with their workout, so maybe twenty-four hours later was too soon to ask for a rain check.
He finished his day at the gym and then, instead of going home and sitting alone on his couch, he called Master Phillip and asked him to meet for a drink. Armando promised he wouldn’t cry. Master Philip said he could cry all he wanted.
✶
Nailah stood outside of Melrose Fitness, finishing her call with Mrs. Levitz. They were making some great progress on the house. Her daughter’s room was nearly done, and they had finally come to a decision about what to do with her husband’s office. Nailah offered to find a professional organizer to help her sort through Mr. Levitz’s things, and then they would recreate the office into an art studio for her client. Mrs. Levitz had given up painting when they started their family, but now that her youngest was in high school she was ready to get back to her own hobbies. It made Nailah feel good to see the woman getting her groove back. She made a mental note never to let her own groove go.
After they hung up—Mrs. Levitz was telling her about some custom easel she’d found online—she headed into the gym. Armando had been completely normal during their last workout, so Nailah figured it was business as usual. They could plan a time for their next bang session after she gave those sumo squats another go.
Armando came from the back office just as she put her stuff in the cubby. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m feeling pretty fucking buff today, so you might actually have to let me bench press the bar.”
“Totally. We can do that. I have to talk to you about something first.”
Nailah froze. Something in his voice didn’t sound right. When she turned around she noticed a strange look on his face. She knew that look. He wanted to talk. And he knew she was about to bolt.
“I just want to get something off my chest,” he said.
“What if I don’t want to hear it?”
“I’m almost positive you don’t want to hear it, but a big part of this, between girl and Sir, is communication. I have something to communicate to you and then you can do whatever you want with that information. I’m not expecting it to magically change anything, I just want to say it. That okay?”
Nailah squeezed her eyes closed. “Yeah, fine.”
“You want to sit down?”
“No. We’re already cutting into my hour. We don’t need to make ourselves comfortable.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll just get on with it. I’m falling in love with you.”
Nailah looked up at him, confused. “Okay?”
“I didn’t think it would be a good idea for us to go on with our other activities without sharing that fact with you.”
“Okay? Is that it?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“So you’re falling in love with me and that’s it? Alright, cool. So what are we doing for a warm up today?”
“Nailah.”
“What?”
“Come on. Say something.”
“No. Fuck you. You said you wanted to tell me something. So you told me and then you said you were done. So, now, I’m done. It’s not my fault you’re a shitty communicator and can’t figure out what you really want to say or clearly articulate what you want from me. Not that it would matter. I don’t know what the other women
C. J. Cherryh
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