Shana Mine

  Marilyn Lee Presents

  Shana Mine

  ©2012 Marilyn Lee

  All Rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. All service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Copyright laws prohibit trading, selling, and or giving away ebooks.

  Chapter One

  “I must be hearing things.” I stared at the woman seated in one of the two chairs opposite my desk in silence for several moments. Best friends since kindergarten, we were so close that in every way that mattered, we were sisters of the heart and soul, if not by blood. I’d even named my daughter after her.

  We generally did anything for each other but what she wanted now was too much—especially after all the intimate stories I’d heard. I shook my head. “Come again. You want me to do what?”

  “Oh come on, Shana. Don’t look at me as if I’ve lost my mind.”

  “Either you’ve lost yours or you think I’ve lost mine,” I said, trying to sound and look resolute.

  As usual, Jasmin quickly came up with a reason why she shouldn’t take no for an answer. “A change of scenery will do you good.”

  Since ending a three-year relationship six months earlier, I’d been struggling to overcome loneliness and boredom so I could get my life back on an even keel. After a lot of heartache and too many sleepless nights, I finally felt ready to share my life and bed with a man again.

  Although I didn’t have any particular prospects in sight, I didn’t want to put my plans on hold to do her another favor. “I don’t need a change so badly that I’m prepared to fly across the country to do your dirty work,” I said.

  “If you do this, I promise I’ll never ask you to do anything ever again.”

  Ever since I could remember, Jasmin had been asking and expecting me to do favors for her. Rarely able to say no to her, I generally did them. Of course, the favor thing worked both ways. I’d talked her into doing some things for me she didn’t want to do once or twice. Still, I think we’d both agree that she tended to ask for more favors than I did. “Never is a long time and I don’t recall you going for more than a few weeks without needing a favor,” I reminded her.

  She grimaced and then nodded. “Okay. You’re right, but honestly, Shana, Taylor’s a great guy and he deserves to hear the truth in person.”

  I shrugged. Although I’d never let on, her sensual tales of the man she was about to dump had sent me reaching for my BOB on more than one night since my break up from Tremain Younger, the sexy stud I’d almost imagined myself in love with. His dumping me for another woman had soon cured me of that delusion.

  A lonely woman could only hear so many stories of a handsome, sexy Native American hunk who loved his women dark-skinned and full-figured before she found herself engaging in forbidden activities—namely fantasizing about spending a night in the arms of her best friend’s man.

  Feeling my cheeks burn at my thoughts, I shrugged again and tried to appear disinterested. “So tell him.” I glanced at my watch to give her a reminder that I had a nine to five job I needed to get back to instead of discussing her love life.

  “Are you listening, Shana?”

  I nodded, giving her my full attention. As usual, both her hair and make-up were as flawless as was the beautifully made pantsuit that flattered her full-figured body. It was attractive, confident women like Jasmin who helped put plus-size women on the cover of fashion magazines and put men on notice that we could stir their passions too, I thought with sisterly pride.

  Although thirty-nine, Jasmin looked ten years younger, which probably accounted for her having caught and held Taylor Raymond’s attention–even though he was nine years her junior.

  “Shana?”

  I sighed inwardly, mentally preparing myself to remain firm. I owned a cleaning company that was finally successful enough to allow me to devote most of my energies to doing what I’d always wanted to do—write an erotic romance with a hero who couldn’t keep his big, hot hands off the sexy, confident plus-size heroine.

  I’d hired and trained an office manager who had taken over the day–to–day management of the business, allowing me more time to write. “My novel is going really well. I’m not going to lose my momentum by stopping to fly to the East Coast to deliver your Dear John letter.” I paused and bit my lip at the exaggeration. While the storyline was coming along well, writing the love scenes was heavy going.

  Of course, Jasmin knew that but like the best friend she was she didn’t use it against me in an effort to strengthen her case. “You have a laptop and that tablet I bought you for your birthday that you can take with you,” she pointed out sweetly.

  “Never mind that,” I retorted. “Anyway, if this Taylor Raymond is so wonderful, why are you ending your relationship with him in favor of going off with your rich photographer boyfriend?”

  “First girl, you know I don’t do boys. Both Taylor and Howard are men with all caps, but Howard can open some very important doors for me. At my age, I’m very fortunate to still be able to land assignments. After the European layouts, I’ll be in a better position to decide if it’s time to say goodbye to modeling and dust off my MBA and put it to work full-time.”

  “Jasmin—”

  “I can’t pass up this opportunity, Shana. But in order to take full advantage of what might be my last opportunity, I have to leave tomorrow and be free to travel as needed. That doesn’t give me much time to fly to the East Coast to return his bracelet and explain that right now is not a good time for me to start a serious relationship.”

  “Well, he’ll just have to wait to hear the news when you have time,” I said.

  “He deserves better than that, Shana.” She sighed. “We haven’t slept together for over four months and I’ve hinted that I don’t have time for more.”

  “Then why take that bracelet which must have cost close to a grand?”

  “Because it’s beautiful and at the time he gave it to me, I wanted more than I now have time for,” she said, sounding defensive.

  “Why take an expensive present before you were ready for an exclusive relationship with him?”

  She shook her head. “Asking the question a different way won’t change the answer. Look, wait until you meet him. He’s sexy as hell, great in bed, and he can be very persuasive. Why else would I have gone out with him more than a few times? You know he’s not my type.”

  I’d never known Jasmin to date a non-black male more than a few times. On the one hand, the fact that she’d engaged in a long distance relationship with this Taylor Raymond for nearly a year said a lot about the effect he must have had on her. On the other hand, she’d gone out of her way to make sure he and I never met. I had to think that said something about her lack of interest in a serious relationship with him.

  “I hear what you’re saying, Jas, but I’m not interested in making this my problem.”

  She stared at me, her gaze narrowed. “Girl, get a grip. Since when are there my problems and your problems instead of our problems?”

  “Since never, “ I admitted. “but what were you thinking Jas? What did you think you’d have in common with a handyman?”

  “He’s not just a handyman,” she said. “Like you, he owns his own company. Yes, he still has to get those big, hot hands of his dirty sometimes, but it’s his company. Just as you’ve made a success of your company, so will he.” She arched
a brow and gave me a long look. “Actually, you own a cleaning company and he owns a handyman one. The two of you should get on like a house on fire.”

  “Nice try, but I can’t get away right now.”

  “Shana, you have to do this for me. He’s been…dumped before.”

  And you know what that’s like. Of course, she didn’t actually say the words aloud but we both felt the words hanging between us.

  She removed the beautiful tennis bracelet from her wrist with obvious reluctance and handed it to me. “Please, you have to go and let him down, Shana. You have such a pleasing way that this is bound to sting less coming from you.”

  Maybe that was why I’d had trouble landing and keeping a man since my divorce. If so, clearly it was time to stop being so soothing and concentrate on turning myself into a sexy siren. Call me old-fashioned but I wanted to know my man loved me enough to marry me.

  “Shana?”

  Oh hell. I’d never been able to deny Jasmin anything for very long. So even though the thought of delivering a Dear John letter to a man I’d never met but couldn’t stop fantasizing about held little appeal, I sighed and finally agreed. “I’ll go—under duress and girl are you going to owe me big time.”

  Jasmin sighed in relief and reached across the desk to grip my hand. “Thanks, Shana. I know this is a bit of a pain, but once you meet Taylor, I think you’ll understand why it was so difficult to say no to him in person.”

  I cast my gaze ceiling–ward. “If you’ve seen one man you’ve seen them all,” I said.

  “Tell me that after you’ve met him. He’s the complete package: tall, handsome, and sexy as hell. Better still, he has a big, hard pussy-pleasing cock,” she said, licking her lips.

  I stared at her and then laughed. “Girl, you are too damn old to be so easily sidetracked by a man just because he’s well-hung.”

  “Hey, get a grip, Shana. A straight woman is never too old to get excited by a big cock. Besides, there’s well-hung and then there’s Taylor Raymond’s delicious cock,” she said, grinning. “I swear, if he were a few years older and black, I’d have branded his ass and his cock as my exclusive property the moment I felt that big dick of his sliding so deep in me.”

  “Oh stop or you’ll make me jump his bones the moment we meet,” I said, still laughing but only half–jokingly.

  She shrugged. “If you get a chance, go for it, girl,” she said.

  “Oh please, Jas. Like I’m going to hop into bed with a male only nine years older than my son.”

  “We’re talking about a romp in bed, not a lifetime commitment. If you get the chance to bed him, you’d better take it or trust me, you’ll always regret it.”

  “Will you stop already?”

  “Listen, girl. We’ve both had relationships with well-hung men. There are quite a few of them around. Unfortunately, not all of them know how to use their best asset effectively. He does. We’re talking cockasaurus-rex coupled with a level of skill that’s off the charts, girl. We’re talking Pointer Sisters’ Slow Hand here. The man is not selfish when it comes to pleasing a woman.”

  “Jas!” Even as I protested, I couldn’t dismiss a mental picture of a handsome, naked Native American male with a huge, hard shaft he knew how to use. After so many months of celibacy, such thoughts left me longing for a hard, raunchy fuck.

  “No. Believe me, Shana, spend one night with him and all bets about not dating younger men will be off—just as all bets about not dating non-black men more than once were off for me.”

  I held up a hand. “Enough talk of sex. I don’t have time to take a cold shower. I’ll go to Philadelphia, but you’re going to owe me big time.”

  She nodded. “Deal, now I’ll get out of your hair.” She rose, kissed my cheek, and left quickly—probably afraid I’d come to my senses and change my mind.

  Alone in my office, I got up and went into the attached bathroom.

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror on my wall, I studied myself.

  I was tall and thick. Hell, maybe full-figured. I had big legs and what my ex had called a bootylicious butt. The features I was most proud of were my large, natural breasts and the long, dark hair that ended well past my shoulders—all mine. I had dark, smooth skin and a face most men found attractive.

  Back in my office, I sat with my head against the back of the chair with my eyes closed. You are a piece of work. One of these days you’re going to have to learn to say no to Jas and mean it. Recalling the last minutes of our conversation, my panties flooded. Oh God, to feel a big, hard cock inside me again would rock my world. But you are not going to hop into bed with a man who’s already bedded your best friend. So get a damned grip, Shana.

  I opened my eyes and forced my thoughts back to work. Three hours later, as I was about to leave the office for the day, Jasmin called.

  “I’ve made all the arrangements for your trip to Philadelphia,” she said. “All expenses are paid for a week. Do you need money for food now or can you wait until I return?”

  “I’m going to give him the bad news and then head back to the airport. I only need one night at the hotel.”

  “You can’t fly across the country and only stay a few hours. I booked you in for a week. Trust me, once you meet him, you’ll be glad you’re not stuck with just an over– nighter.

  “If I know you, you’re not going to hop into bed with him the first night. So you’ll need more than one night.”

  “Will you give it a rest?” I snapped.

  “Excuse me for breathing,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes. “One day or six, I can pay for my own meals.”

  “Are you sure? You’re only going as a favor to me.”

  “I know that but I can pay for my own meals.”

  “Okay. Well…do me proud and let him down gently. Then fuck me right out of his mind during the week.”

  Wouldn’t I love to do just that? I outlined my top lip with my tongue. “I have no interest in staying more than one night.”

  “Use the time to sightsee. The Liberty Bell and the Constitution Center are within walking distance of your hotel. The Reading Terminal Market has to be seen to be believed. It’s historic and filled with all kinds of restaurants. Taylor and I enjoyed going on horse-driven carriage rides too. We visited the Betty Rose and the Poe House. There’s a lot of history you’ll enjoy exploring with or without.”

  “With or without what?”

  “Taylor. He’s a bit of a workaholic but with the right incentive, maybe you can convince him to take some time off.”

  “Did you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “All our sightseeing took place after work or on the weekends.”

  “I doubt he’ll want to spend any quality time with me after I’ve delivered the bad news.”

  “Maybe not but if he wants to bed you, go for it. Just do me a favor and make sure you don’t fall for him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I might decide I want him back and I don’t want any problems between us if that happens. Fuck him but do not fall for him because I might want him back.”

  I frowned. Sometimes Jasmin had a habit of treating her lovers like possessions rather than equal partners. “There’s not much chance of that happening,” I assured her. “Anyway, have a great shoot and a wonderful time, Jas.”

  “You too, Shana. I’ll see you when I return.”

  “I’ll be here, girl,” I said and hung up.

  I went home to have dinner, pack, and call my son and daughter to tell them I’d be heading out of town for a while. My twenty-year-old twins, Jassy and Jimmy, would start their senior year of college in the fall.

  Jassy urged me to have a wild time. “Let your hair down, Mom and live a little.”

  I knew what she meant by live a little. Like Jasmin, she thought I was taking too long to get over Tremain. “We’ll see,” I said. “I’ll call you when I get back. Now I need to call your brother. Love you.”

  “I love you too, Mom,�
� she said.

  Smiling, I dialed her brother’s number.

  Jimmy listened in silence before he spoke. “Despite the advice I know Jassy gave you, please be careful, Mom. There’s no rush to start a new relationship. You can take your time and get it right.”

  Oh but I was more than ready to take another lover. “Don’t worry about me, sweetie.”

  “I do worry,” he said. “It’s part of my job.”

  Since my divorce, ten years earlier, despite my assurances, Jimmy had felt he had to look after me. “Don’t worry,” I said again.

  “Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything.”

  Hell would freeze over before I burdened either of my kids with my problems. “Of course, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Call or text me to let me know you arrived safely.”

  “I will. Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you, Mom.”

  Later that night I fell asleep and had a series of erotic dreams where a faceless man with a big shaft cocked me all night long until I nearly screamed the place down. My heart thumped and my panties were wet when I woke because I knew the faceless man of my dreams had been Taylor Raymond.

  Get a grip, girl. You cannot start thinking with your pussy.

  Groaning with frustration, I rolled onto my stomach and drifted to sleep again—and dreamed of Taylor Raymond again.

  A day later, I arrived in Philadelphia after a six-hour flight from San Francisco. At the last moment, I’d decided to take Jasmin’s advice and packed enough clothes for a week’s vacation. After I saw Taylor Raymond in the morning, I’d get down to some serious sightseeing. And just maybe I might even let my hair down enough to get my freak on in a one-night stand. Or two. Hell, maybe three. But not with Taylor Raymond, girl. Not with him. That would create too many problems.

  Hoping I’d wrestled my emotions and fantasies under sufficient control that Taylor Raymond would not know I’d been spending far too much time daydreaming about him; I collected my bags and boarded the airport shuttle to my Center City hotel.