I GOT A DATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YES!!  YOU READ THAT RIGHT! I HAVE A DATE!!! (Thank you Lucy/Kat!!!)

Let me back up.

So it's Monday.  The day I drop my sister off at school and rush home.  We were a little late leaving because I started writing D &R and Love's Enslavement and got caught up in the characters.  So anyway, we sort of rushed there (that the gods that I didn't get pulled over!), and I dropped her off in the same place I usually do.  I was just about to pull away when I notice someone leaning on the front of their car looking right at me.

Yes, it was Jack.

Jack sans brother.

I was ecstatic!  Then I looked down at myself and groaned.  I am seriously bumming it today.  Cargo pants, t-shirt, hair straight, shades on my face, flip flops on my feet.  I almost pulled off without stopping to talk.  Almost.  But then I remembered the conversation that I had with my newest little sister and friend Lucy/Kat about WHEN I met up with Jack again, how I should talk to him (THANKS Kat!), so I parked in the Faculty/Staff parking spot (no, I'm not faculty or staff, but what are they going to do?  Sue me?) and got out.

I turned my constant limp into this sort of swag walk and stepped up to him.  He was smiling, I was smiling.  We looked like idiots.

Me:  How long you been sitting out here waiting?
Jack: Does it make me look like a pathetic loser if I say thirty minutes?
Me: (laughs) No.
Jack: What about if I tell the truth and say an hour?
Me: (playful cringe) Woah! Yeah, that would do it.  That extra half hour pushed you into Losertown without stopping at a rest stop at all.

We both laughed (hell, you know you laughed too.  I'm funny as hell, especially when I'm nervous.  I also don't know when to shut up and usually end up sticking my foot in my mouth).

Me: So why were you waiting?  Hoping you could apologize for your brother again?

Cringe. Yes, I know, bad Vee, BAD!

Jack: Nah. (He blushes.  Oh my gosh is he cute when he blushes!) I was kinda hoping to...um...ask you out.
Me: (jaw drops open) Me?  You want to ask me out?
Jack: Well yeah.
Me: (narrows eyes, though he can't see them behind the sunglasses) You do remember that I'm bi-gender right?  The top half is female, but I wear a strap-on.  At least until I get the surgery.

Yeah, I sort of get vomit of the mouth also.

Jack: (laughs) Yeah, you sort of don't forget something like that. (Shrugs) Well, I'm gay, so the whole dick thing doesn't really scare me off.
Me: The breasts and the vagina thing does though right?
Jack: (laughs again) I won't say I'm a fan, but there's something about you.  I think I can get past it.
Me: (I'm screaming for joy internally but oh man has Vic taken over and that suave Italian man comes out)  So where are you taking me?
Jack: (smiles) Where do you want to go?
Me: Well, right now, I'd love to go to a backseat somewhere and see if your dick really looks as big in real life as it does from the outside of your jeans, but I guess that will have to wait.
Jack: (blushes and giggles....yeah, he giggled...still trying to wrap my head around that one) Well, maybe after our date.
Me: Definitely after our date.  So, Beef O' Brady's?  I think that there might be a game coming on Friday night.
Jack: Okay.  You want me to pick you up or you wanna meet there?
Me: Pick me up.

So we exchanged phone numbers and emails and addresses and then this is where I turned just a little bit slutty.

Jack: So I'll see you Friday?
Me: Yeah.
Jack turned to leave and I grabbed his arm, when he turned back to look at me I went up on my toes (because *shiver* he's taller than me) and kissed him.  I had planned on it being just like a peck or a deep closed mouth kiss, you know the kind that makes you want more, but DAMMIT his lips tasted SSOOO good!!!!  We sort of made out a little in the parking lot. (*SQUEAL!*)

Me: So call me?
Jack: Yeah.

I went to walk off and man do I wish that I could still pull off my sexy supermodel glide or something, because the limp just is NOT sexy, but, I got in the car and drove off after honking and waving.  I had o pull over five minutes later, again, but this time because I was bouncing in my seat and swerving on the road.

I GOT A DATE!  I GOT A DATE!  I GOT A DATE!!!

Yes, I'm SOOO planning on getting laid.  Maybe not on the first date (I stopped doing that.....about a year ago), but definitely before I go to New Orleans for the GayRomLit.com retreat.

And all I could think was, "I can't wait to get home so I can blog about this and tell everyone!!  Kat was right!  Woohoo!!!!" Then I started singing the "I Gotta Date" song (LOL).  And then Lady Gaga came on the radio and the song was just so perfect that I HAD to share it.  I swear her new album is like the soundtrack for my year.  So I'm sharing it with you all as I sing along.

Inconceivable: Part Five

Part Five:


     "And then I turned around and he was standing right there with his arms folded across his chest, looking all huge and intimidating and I could feel my boyfriend trembling beneath me, his cock shriveling up inside of me like a raisin before he slid out and I just got so mad.  So I slide off the bed, turn around to face him, put my hands on my hips and say: 'Why don't you find your own boyfriend METRIC TON!'  He was so shocked by the new nickname, he didn't even notice my boyfriend, grabbing his clothes and climbing out of the window, the same way he'd climbed in...except this time he was doing it naked," Tommy burst into laughter as Luci regaled him with the story of how she'd come to call Ton, "Metric Ton."  He noticed Ton wincing and he laughed even harder.  Luci had been telling stories about Ton during the entire meal and Tommy couldn't remember the last time that he'd laughed so hard.  It was great and he felt himself healing with every story.
     He had used the bathroom without Ton's assistance and had spent the entire time thinking about his mate and the fact that the other man had rather watch him suffer than mate him and heal him.  When his reason had finally returned he realized that he should be thankful that the other man had respected him enough to NOT take advantage of him in his injured state.  He'd stepped out of the bathroom gingerly, after flushing and washing his hands and had smiled shyly up at the larger man.  Ton must have read his forgiveness and understanding in his eyes because without a word being spoken the larger man had come over, scooped him up into his arms and carried him over to the dining table to eat.  They were still there.  Tommy had finished eating half an hour ago and Luci had finished five minutes ago, but Ton was still eating.  Damn, he hoped that they had a big refrigerator in their new home, because his mate ate like a huge, fucking animal.
     Tommy snorted in an effort to restrain his laughter.  He merely shook his head when Ton and Luci looked at him questioningly, not wanting to share his amusement with them, concerned that they may take offense.  He yawned widely and nodded when Luci asked him if he wanted a cup of water.  As soon as Luci walked away he leaned over and kissed Ton's cheek where the bigger man sat next to him.
     Ton looked at him, his eyes wide with shock, "What was that for?"  Tommy smiled at him sweetly, lifting his hands up to cup Ton's cheeks.
     "That was for NOT mating me when I was too vulnerable to resist or give my permission," Tommy said softly.  Ton swallowed thickly and nodded.  "That's the only reason you didn't mate me right?  It wasn't that you were suddenly turned off by me?" he asked, uncertain, biting his lower lip.  Ton didn't say anything, just reached up and grabbed one of Tommy's hands and pressed it firmly against his very large erection.
     "Point taken," Tommy grinned.  The two men shared another small kiss and pulled away just as Luci returned to the table.
     "So Luci, tell me, where's your mate?" Tommy asked curiously as he took a sip of water from his glass.  The room filled with tension immediately and Tommy found himself glancing back and forth between Ton and Luci.  The two of them were having some kind of silent conversation with their eyes and Tommy could feel their anxiety rolling off of them in waves.  What the hell was going on and what were they keeping secret?
     "He isn't really able to claim me.  So...we know who each other is, but we're just not able to act on it," Luci evaded the question before excusing herself with an excuse that she wanted to go and pack up her car and rushing from the room.
     Tommy turned to look at Ton with an incredulous look.  Ton shook his head and held up his hands in surrender.  "Uh-uh.  Don't look at me like that.  It's not my story to tell.  Believe me I want her and this guy to mate, I truly do, but they won't do it.  They asked me to keep that secret and I won't betray their trust," the Texan said.  Tommy nodded and sighed.  He respected his man for honoring the wishes of his sister and not divulging her secret but he was curious by nature and he really wanted to know.
     "I understand honey," Tommy reassured his mate and yawned widely.  He merely smiled when Ton stood up and scooped him into his arms before carrying him back to bed.  His man could carry him wherever he wanted to and he wouldn't protest at all.  When Ton made a move to get off of the bed, Tommy grabbed onto his wrist and smiled at him again.
     "Stay?" he asked and Ton nodded.
     "Only for a minute, then I've got to clean up the kitchen and get our stuff in the truck.  I've got to get back to the ranch and we've got to leave today," Ton stated before climbing over Tommy to settle beside him on the bed.  Tommy nodded and turned over onto his right side, pressing his back to Ton's chest and his ass to other man's jean-covered erection.  He smiled as Ton growled low in his chest.
     "Stop playing with fire baby and get some sleep.  We ain't gonna do nothing 'til you're feeling better and it ain't gonna hurt you," Ton groaned, his southern drawl more pronounced.  Tommy had noticed when he'd visited Richard months before that Ton's accent and Southern dialect was only apparent when he was really angry or really turned on and if the very large pipe poking him in the ass was any indication, his big cowboy was very turned on indeed.
     "I can guarantee you Ant, I'll be feeling 100% by the time we get to Texas.  So be ready to not leave the bedroom for a while, because I want to learn how to ride properly and I'm practicing on you," Tommy promised just before he relaxed into sleep.

Truth in a Joke-I am Static, I am Bi-Gender, I am Me

So I talked very briefly to my brother this morning and he asked me if I still loved him after everything yesterday. (DUH!) I told him that nothing he did or said would ever make me stop loving him.  I helped to raise him.  We've had our fights (knock-out, drag down fights-he only won once-hehehe), we've kept each other's secrets ("Vee, why do you have a plastic toy in your drawer that looks like a penis?"), and we've always stood up for each other ("Listen up bitch, you hurt my brother again, I will kick your ass from here to Sunday.").  So of course I'm not going to let a little thing like him struggling with depression over the fact that he's being kept from his son and a woman he loved has been using him for his money this whole time, stop me from loving my baby brother.  Even if he killed someone, I'd be UBER disappointed but I'd still love him.  I asked him if he'd still love me if I got a penile implant.  He laughed and said he'd wondered what was taking me so long to "grow a pair."  We both laughed but you know what?  I wonder if he was really being honest with me.

I know that in their own way my family loves me and that my friends support me, but if I rock their comfortable worlds and become "abnormal" or "transgendered" or "bi-gender"?  I was talking to my new friend Kate about it and I confessed that I've always struggled with this.  Feeling both male and female.  Some days just wishing I had a dick and a cute guy to fuck in the ass and then other days feeling so feminine and wanting to be fucked myself.  Plus I love my tits you know?  But, I come from a Christian family and that stuff isn't even considered.  As I get older and care less and less about the opinions of others, I think more about what would make me happy.

I love being a woman, but there is a part of me, a rather loud, dominant and obnoxious part of me that yearns to be a man.  So while my family teases me about being a "big, biker dude" on the inside, I'm not sure that they'd be so supportive if I took steps to actually make myself more comfortable with who I am on the inside. I wouldn't even know where to begin.  What steps to take, who to talk to.

What friends can I depend on to still stick around if I did this?  How do I do this?  Can I do this?  I know for the first time in my life I feel this weight lifting slowly off of me, because I've admitted it to myself and to others.  Kate teased about therapy and the truth that came shooting out of my mouth was shocking even to me:
      There are times when I love being a woman, love being me, but most of the time, I wish I were a man. I'm not sure what to do with that and honestly going to therapy over the whole thing means (to me) that there's something wrong with feeling this way. I don't think that there is. I was born this way. There weren't circumstances that made me this way, no one's telling me to be this way, if anything society is telling me that I have to choose one or the other. Why? If I was born feeling "static" feeling both like a man and a woman, neither of them really conflicting with the other, both complementing the other half and both of them attracted to the same gender, what's the problem?

Happy Gay Day!!

So I was told that today is Gay Day.

I would like to wish everyone a very Happy Gay Day and in honor of Gay Day, if you're gay and in a committed relationship, make mad passionate love to your partner, if you're gay and NOT in a committed relationship...today is the day to find someone.

If you're NOT gay....well, today is the day you can be gay (go on, you know you want to) and get away with it and if someone asks you why you're having hot, monkey sex with someone of the same gender when you're NOT gay, you say: Well I'm not Martin Luther King Jr and I celebrate his day!  LOL.

Today is a day of celebrating love (more so than stinkin' Valentine's Day-I say this until I have me someone on Valentine's Day), all love.  So go out there and BE GAY!

Unthinkable: Part Five-NSFW

Part Five:


     Richard cringed as Amy began crying in Vet's arms again and sighed as he looked over at the man directly across the hall from him.  "Do you need me to take her again?" he asked, his tone sympathetic and slightly pleading.  He'd become one of those people.  The kind that brought their sobbing, bawling, miserable babies on board an airplane and made everyone else suffer because of it.  Giving the passengers all behind him a sheepish and apologetic look, he checked to be sure that Curt and RJ were still asleep...they were...before standing up and walking across the aisle to take a squirming, crying Amy from her uncle's arms.
     "We should have drove," Vet mumbled for the eight time.
     "You don't think I wish we were a little farther into this trip?  That maybe the trip was already over, or better yet, wasn't even a necessity?  I do, with all my work with the babies and dealing with you so far, I totally understand.  But if we had driven, we would have been on the road for a week," Richard pointed out before he sat back down.
      "Not true.  We coulda been there in three days," Vet pointed out.
      "Staying in hotels?  Really?" Richard questioned him.  He rocked Amy gently in his arms smiling when the infant began to calm down.
      "What's wrong with staying in hotels?" Vet asked petulantly.  Richard grinned at the pouty look on the big man's face, so out of character with his stature that he almost laughed.
      "Staying in hotels is fun when kids are older or when it's just the parents, but having infants in a hotel?  Especially when you're travelling?  It doesn't sound like fun to me," Richard stated with a shrug, before noticing that Amy had finally fallen asleep.
      "You're really good with 'em," Vet smiled.  Richard merely blushed before standing carefully to put the baby back in her carrier.  Taking out a pair of earplugs he gently placed them in her ears, before placing a pacifier in her mouth which she began to suck on in her sleep instantly.  Turning to repeat the process with Curt and RJ he found his hand grabbed by Vet and he stopped.  Turning to look at the other man, his eyes widened at the desire burning in his green eyes.  Letting his eyes drift down he saw the very large erection straining against the front of Vet's Wranglers and felt his own erection surging in his designer jeans.
      "You..uh...you wanted something?" he asked in a choked voice.  Vet opened his mouth to respond when the "Fasten Seatbelt" sign flashed and the pilot began speaking.  Richard heard Vet growl softly in frustration and felt his mouth pull up in a small smile.  When Vet released his hand, he leaned forward and quickly kissed him before returning to his seat between Curt and RJ, who were blessedly, still asleep.  Quickly putting in their earplugs and pacifiers, he fastened his seatbelt and sat back with a sigh.  What was it about Vet?  He always had the urge to curl up in his lap and rub himself all over the other man, or to rip off his clothes, spread his legs and beg the bigger man to fuck him six ways from Sunday or...most embarrassingly, he wanted to tilt his head to the side and beg the other man to bite him.  He'd never been into BDSM or S/M or whatever it was that Rihanna was singing about, so he had no idea where the urge to be bitten came from.  Giving himself another mental shake, to prepare himself for landing, he glanced over at the man in question only to find Vet's eyes fastened on him.  He smiled weakly at him, feeling as if he were being undressed with Vet's eyes and wishing he knew what the other man was thinking.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Vet groaned as he smelled Richard's arousal hanging heavily in the close confines of his Ford Expedition.  They had been able to grab the triplets, a luggage rack and get to where he'd parked his "Expo" with minimum fuss.  As soon as they'd settled in the car, however, he'd smelled Richard's arousal and felt himself fighting his wolf for dominance.  He felt his canines trying to extend, his body struggling to grow bigger and his hair beginning to grow longer and thicker in some places and he inhaled to calm his racing heart.  Which was a bad idea, of course, because with that inhale the smell of Richard's cloying arousal pulsed through his body.  This time he couldn't hold back the growl in his throat.  He saw Richard's gaze fly towards his and he responded.
      "You're killin' me here babe, with all your wantin' me and bein' all turned on and shit," he explained, reaching down to try to give himself some room in his jeans, although there was none to be had.  All shifters were well endowed but he was still bigger than most and for that reason, he often had to buy larger sized jeans and wear a belt, just so he wouldn't feel choked all day, but to be trying to drive, in his Wranglers, hard and getting harder?  Well it was damn near becoming a fucking magic trick.
      "How did you know I was-" Richard questioned, not finishing the question.  Vet sighed, he could give some flip answer but his momma had always taught him that you don't lie to your mate, even if it would be in their best interest.  Turning onto the long dirt driveway that lead to his family ranch and working farm, filled with acres of wild forest, left there for the members of the pack to be able to run and hunt, Vet didn't answer as he pulled up in front of the home his parents had left for Mandy after he'd insisted that he'd stay in the bachelor house he'd built for himself that sat a ways behind the main house, the alpha house.  He tried to see the home through Richard's eyes and could see why the New Yorker sat with his mouth open.  All of the properties in New York were tiny but cost a lot of money, real estate in Texas was more of the "bigger is better" variety and so while everything in Texas was actually bigger than just about anything in New York, the cost was actually cheaper.  His home rose three stories from the ground, boasted of six bedrooms, in addition to the master suite, a nursery, a library, an office, family room, gourmet kitchen, formal dining room, breakfast nook, outdoor pool, greenhouse out back, with a vegetable garden that his mother had started and Mandy had continued.  They had a very large working ranch, where he raised and bred horses, getting them reading for rodeos and competitions.  They also had cattle, sheep, and goats on their farm, which none of the pack ever hunted, knowing that the animals helped to bring in money for them.
      "Oh.  My.  God.  I'm going to be living here?" Richard breathed and Vet smiled, not answering before turning off the vehicle and climbing from the car.  He walked towards the back, opened the door and after unbuckling them, lifted up the carriers that held Curt and RJ, deciding to stick with the boys, as he carried them towards the house.  He heard Richard following him and smiled and the sounds of awe and wonder the smaller man made as he walked up towards the large, white clapboard home.
      "This used to be a plantation.  You know a long time ago.  When the Civil War broke out though, the slaves were freed by this mysterious group of people who drove off the slave owners and gave the slaves their freedom.  A lot of them stayed, some of them moved north, some of them stayed in town, but this land has been a part of my family ever since," Vet gave Richard the history as he finally opened the door and led the smaller man inside.  He heard the other man gasp again as he saw the large entryway.  There was a large wolf image imprint on the floor, put there when his father was still alive.  As they walked through the house, heading towards the nursery, he pointed out each room to his mate.  Each room had a different theme and was painted in a different color.  As a kid he'd found it all fascinating, as an adult he found it just a little scary.
      "Your parents couldn't decide on one color?" he heard Richard ask and he laughed.
      "My grandparents did this.  My parents just kept it the way it was, so did Mandy.  You could change it if you want."  He heard Richard grunt and wondered at the sound.  Walking up the stairs and turning right at the top he pointed out the other bedrooms, letting Richard know that while no one lived there currently they were sometimes used by his "close friends and employees when they'd been working late," unsure of how to explain "Beta" and "Gamma Guards" to the smaller man.  Walking up the second flight of stairs he led his mate to the nursery and walked inside the bright yellow room.
      "Gah!" he heard Richard yelp and chuckled.  His grandmother had really liked bright colors and the yellow was so bright it was almost neon.
      "I had nightmares of this room as a kid," he laughed, picking up Curt and placing the sleeping baby in his crib, before taking out his earplugs and covering him with a light sheet.
      "I bet you did.  I think I will too," he heard Richard say as he picked up RJ to repeat the process with him.  All three sleeping babies settled, he grabbed his mate's hand and, after turning on the baby monitors and security cameras, he walked down the hall towards the master suite.
      "You've got some really high-tech security going on in the nursery there.  Are there a lot of people out to kill wealthy cowboys out here in these parts?" Richard teased.  Vet merely pulled the smaller man into the bedroom before shutting the door and pushing the other man up against it, his hands on either side of the younger man's head as he bent low to speak into his upturned face.
      "Only when you're as important as me.  We had someone attempt something right after the triplets were born.  We've had to take extra precaution now," he said before capturing his mate's mouth with his own.  Richard's taste burst across his tongue and he growled low in his throat again.  His wolf wanted its mate...NOW and if he didn't do something and fast, he was going to do something he'd regret later.  Like mate Richard without his permission.  He felt the smaller man's hips thrust against his own and felt his erection rubbing against his aching one and he knew that the time was now or never.  With a teasing nip to the other man's full bottom lip he pulled away slightly, grinning at Richard's whimper of protest and resisting his clutching hands.
      "I want you Richard," he started.
      "And you can have me, right now, so let's go," he heard the other man's breathless voice.
      Vet merely grinned and shook his head, placing a finger on Richard's lips before taking a small step back. "You need to know something first before you decide if you still want me or not," he explained before he began to strip off his clothes.
      "Not that I'm not enjoying this, but what do you have to tell me that involves you taking off your clothes?  I know you're not a woman, I felt your dick grow hard against me, so that's not it, and I can tell it's not small so what is it?" Richard asked curiously.  Vet merely continued undressing, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots, socks, jeans and then his boxers, he stood before Richard completely nude and completely aroused.
      "Good god almighty," he heard Richard breathe and he smiled in spite of the seriousness of what he had to say.  He watched as Richard stepped forward slowly as if in a trance before sinking to his knees before him.
      "You can tell me later," he said before sticking out his tongue to lick up the liquid that had collected at the end of his engorged shaft.  Vet growled again, his body shaking, before he felt his canines lengthen, his hair growing thicker and longer and his cock growing in size.  He looked down at his mate, on his knees in a position of submission and knew that he wouldn't be able to stop the change from taking over him this time, he needed to claim his mate...and he needed to do it now.
      "Oh my god!  Is your dick getting bigger?" he heard Richard exclaim in shock and...happiness?  He never would have though his mate was a size queen, but apparently he was.
      "Listen Richard," he spoke, his words slightly slurred because of his elongated teeth, "I'm not like other men."
      "Obviously," Richard agreed, his eyes still fastened on Vet's still growing erection.  "Oh, we are going to need a lot of lube and a lot of stretching, if you plan on fitting that thing inside of me," the smaller man teased.
      Vet groaned at the image and reaching down to grab Richard by the shoulders he lifted him up so he could look into the man's face.  He knew what he looked like, his canines had extended, his hair had grown to just past his shoulders, his chest was broader, more heavily muscled and soft hair covered it lightly, his normally ten inch cock was now around eleven and a half inches and had grown thicker as well, his hands had grown and he had to watch his nails that had lengthened and strengthened into claws.
      "Vet?  What the fuck!?  You look like a wolf man!" Richard breathed and Vet sniffed the air, scenting his slight fear, his curiosity and amazingly, his arousal was still there.
      "That's what I been trying to tell you.  I'm a wolf shifter.  Hollywood calls us "werewolves" but we're shapeshifters, we ain't bound by the moon, we can shift at will into our wolf forms or into our half wolf, half man forms like you see.  But we only shift into this third form when we're fighting a challenge or when we're about to claim our mates," he explained.  He saw Richard's eyes widen.
      "M-mates?  What's that?" he grinned wolfishly at Richard's question, before lowering his head and inhaling the scent of his mate.  His wolf howled in pleasure within him and he rubbed his face in the crook of the man's neck before lifting his head to answer.
      "Wolves mate for life.  Wolf shifters are the same.  Fate has one person, sometimes two, that is created just for us.  We know them by their scent.  When we find that person or persons, we feel the urge to claim them, to make love to them and to bite them, here," he said pointing to the very spot he'd nuzzled earlier as he sat back down on the bed and pulled Richard down to sit on his lap.  "When we bite them, we mark them so that everyone knows that they belong to us, that they are claimed that they are mated.  So when I mark you, everyone will know that you belong to me.  The Alpha of the Tate Pack."
      Richard moaned and tilted his head back and Vet wondered if it was a conscious movement or not.  Deciding not to overanalyze it, he licked the spot where Richard's neck joined his shoulder and then lightly grazed is canines over the spot.  He felt Richard shudder and no longer willing to wait, he used one nail to tear  into Richard's clothes before yanking them from the younger man's body.  He swung the smaller man up onto the bed and pulled off the high end boots the other man wore, before pulling off his socks leaving him blissfully naked and throbbing.
      "I'm your mate?" he heard Richard's breathless voice.
      "Yeah, and now I'm gonna claim you, mark you, and fuck you until you pass out," Vet promised before leaning over to take his mate's leaking cock into his mouth, he had to taste him.  The taste of his mate flooded his tongue and surrounded his senses.  He heard Richard moan loudly and felt his hips surge forward as he tried to shove his dick into Vet's throat.  He chuckled and held down the smaller man's hips.  Swirling his tongue around the head of the other man's throbbing erection, he dragged his tongue down one side before licking up the other side, pushing lightly on the vein he felt throbbing there.  He stuck his tongue into the slit at the tip of the smaller man's erection, savoring his flavor on his tongue before he kissed his way up his body to his puckered pink nipples.  He moaned in appreciation at the sight before taking one into his mouth.  He licked and sucked on the hardened tip, the fingers of his left hand, plucking and squeezing the right nipple so that it didn't feel abandoned.  Biting gently on the nipple in his mouth he heard Richard pant his name and plead with him to just "do it already."  He shook his head before kissing and licking his way across his mate's toned chest to the other nipple, raising his right hand to the other wet tip as he repeated the process.  He tortured the hardened tips until he felt his mate's body trembling beneath him.  Raising his head he moved up before he lowered his lips down onto the other man's opened mouth.  Their tongues tangled together, their breathing harsh with want and desire.  He felt Richard's arms wrap around his neck and his legs wrap around his hips and groaned as the tip of his own throbbing erection rubbed against the clenching puckered entrance of his mate.
      "Vet, please.  I want you inside of me, now," he heard Richard's voice, laced with desire reach down and grip his cock in its embrace.
      "I wanted to take my time and make it good for you," he panted, groaning when Richard lifted his hips.
      "Take your time next time, but this time I want you to fuck me and I want you to do it now!" Richard grinned, it seemed as if his mate was going to be a bossy bottom, rather than the submissive man he'd thought him to be.  It turned him on even more.  No longer able to constrain himself, he reached over to jerk open the top drawer of the nightstand and yanked out the bottle of lube he'd put there when he'd had to move in after Mandy's death.  Shoving out thoughts of his dead sister and her mate, he sat back on his knees and opened the cap on the bottle of lubricant.  Pouring some on his fingers, he almost dropped the bottle when he saw Richard grab hold of his own erection and begin to stroke.  He watched for a moment, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as he remembered the taste of the younger man, before he slapped away the other man's hand.
      "Mine," he growled before taking one lubed finger and circling around the smaller man's puckered entrance.  Both men groaned simultaneously and Vet grabbed one firm cheek and squeezed it gently before slowly pushing in one finger.  The velvet heat of his mate, clenching his finger, the tightness that surrounded his digit, made him whimper and almost lose his firm hold on his wolf.  He had to hurry up and prepare and stretch his mate or he was going to embarrass himself and come all over the sheets before he even got a chance to be inside of him.  Slowly thrusting his finger inside Richard's hole, he waited until he felt his entrance relax some before he pulled his finger almost all the way out and then pressed two inside.
      "Hurry up Vet, please," he heard Richard plead, the younger man's hands clenching the sheets of the bed tightly in his grasp.
      "Not yet baby, I'm way bigger than this," he admonished him before slowly pressing in a third finger.  He thrust his fingers inside, turning them gently and finding the mass of nerves that was the other man's prostate. He pressed on the button and felt Richard's hips thrust up, a small yelp leaving his throat.  "Oh yeah, baby, just like that, let me hear you," his voice rumbled from his chest and focusing on that spot he thrust his fingers in faster and deeper, pressing in a fourth finger when he felt the muscles surrounding his mate's entrance loosen.  No longer able to hold himself back, he pulled out his fingers and coating his aching erection liberally in lube, he pressed the tip of his cock to his mate's entrance and paused.
      "Do it Vet, now!" Richard demanded and Vet had to stop himself from thrusting in at that point.
      "You understand that when I do this, I'm going to bite you at some point, mark you as mine forever.  You're going to belong to me, and I'm going to belong to you.  Mated forever.  I won't ever let you go after this Richard," he stated firmly.  He watched Richard's eyes open and let those crystal blue eyes lock with his clear green ones.  After a few seconds he saw Richard nod and he smiled.
      "I understand Vet, now will you please shut the fuck up and mate me already?" Richard's words ended on a gasp, when Vet pressed in slowly, stopping with just the head of his cock inside, allowing the smaller man to adjust and relax before pressing all the way inside.  Both men groaned and Richard locked his legs around Vet's waist and nodded his head, telling the other man he could move.  So move is exactly what Vet did.  Pulling out until only the tip of his cock remained inside, he pressed back in, fully and deeply.  He pulled back and then thrust back in slowly before building up speed until he was pounding his cock into the smaller man's entrance, the only sounds in the room moans, pants and flesh slapping against flesh, the most beautiful sound that Vet had ever heard.  He felt Richard's muscles clench his cock and knew that his mate was about to come, moving his hands from where they rested on the bed, he slid them under the smaller man's back and lifted him up until his mate's neck was bared to him.
      Feeling his own orgasm rushing over him he growled loudly, fiercely and possessively "MINE" and buried his teeth in his mate's neck.  He heard Richard scream out with the force of his orgasm, his seed spurting up between them before he felt as if the top of his own erection flew off as he spilled his own come deep within the channels of his mate's ass, covering them in his fluids, marking him inside as his teeth marked him outside.  He felt their souls joining together, their mating link snapping into place and their hearts beating as one and felt peace flood his spirit even as he felt both the force of his own orgasm as well as Richard's rush over him.
      Still shaking from the intensity of their shared orgasm, Vet laid Richard back down on the bed, withdrawing his canines before licking the wounds closed and whining happily at the sight of his mark on his mate's neck.  He stayed buried within the smaller man until he felt his body return to normal, his hairy slowly fading away, leaving only the hair on his chest, his canines receding and his cock softening and returning to its normal size before he was able to slowly pull out.  Both men hissed at the motion and Vet stood up from the bed on shaky legs and walked into the large en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth and grab a towel to clean them both off.  Having wiped them both clean and then drying them with the towel, he tossed both items toward the bathroom before climbing into bed behind his new mate.  He pulled the smaller man into his arms, breathing in his new scent, which was a blend of the both of them and smiled in delight.  Things had gone much better than he could have hoped for.  He had his mate, they were going to raise his sister's children together, his pack and his ranch were flourishing.  Everything was perfect.  Nothing could go wrong.
      "You know you're cleaning up that mess when we wake up," he heard Richard mumble and he chuckled softly.  It seemed as if his little mate was a neat freak.  Well, he was a slob, so he could see a lot of fun arguments ahead.
      "Yes dear," he would promise his mate anything as long as he stayed in his arms.  He sighed again, his body slowly following his mate into sleep, yep, perfect.


*Next installment's going up tomorrow!*

My Obsession With Gay Men

I am in love with David Tutera and John Barrowman. Let me clarify….I am IN LOVE with them! Like, I know that they’re both gay and married and no, I don’t want to make love with them…..okay, John Barrowman is HOT so if he was bisexual then, yes, I would want to make love with him and David is sexy but him, not so much. Anyway, I want to like live with them and be best friends with them and have them be like my gay older brothers.


I don’t know what it is. I mean I have many gay friends, I actually think that my ratio of homosexual/bisexual friends outnumbers my heterosexual friends, 3 to 1. It’s not that I so much seek them out as it is that we just seem to draw naturally to each other.

But regardless of that, I think it may be posing a little bit of a problem. I mean not like, I need to cut all homosexual/bisexual people out of my life, but it’s like, I’m celeb crushing on men that are GAY for heaven’s sake! I actually told Angel that if Shemar Moore of “Criminal Minds” was gay or bisexual, I’d probably start crushing on him again. And how warped is that?

I’ve poked around in my psyche for the reason why this is, but I can’t seem to determine the cause of it all. And it’s not that I love ALL gay men, because I don’t. I loathe Clay Aiken, have a slight tolerance of Ricky Martin, and honestly wish that Perez Hilton would take a very long walk off a very short pier.

Too harsh?

But there are others like David Tutera, John Barrowman, B Scott, Richard, Angel, James, Justin, Kathryn, Maria, Ellen Degneres, Jake, people that I know are gay that I find I want to spend so much more time with than my heterosexual people. You know those people that “society” says that I should want to spend my time with.

I mean, I guess it is kind of weird right? That I smile and get all excited when I watch “My Fair Wedding” just so I can see David Tutera or “Torchwood” just so I can see John Barrowman or that I spend more time on the phone talking to Richard, Angel or Justin than anyone else.

I love reading books by Mary Calmes, T.A. Chase, Stormy Glenn, Ally Blue or Amy Lane….you know gay romance books. Richard and I were talking about this just yesterday and I told him, I know that I’m weird and it makes no sense, but what do I do about it? And why is it that I’m so drawn to gay men? I mean, even though it is strictly on a platonic level, it’s still pretty weird.

So here is my amateur psychological evaluation about my obsession with gay men:

1. No pressure emotionally, physically or sexually. It’s purely platonic.

2. No competition like with a woman. We can both find a man attractive but really only one of us has a shot, not like if it was one straight man and two straight women.

3. The relationship between two men is sort of the relationship that I want with a man. Very few words, more physical displays of affection at home but not really so much in public. A definite understanding of roles. Too many women get in relationships where they are both dominant and submissive, but in a gay relationship, I’ve noticed, that there seems to be a definite understanding of roles

4. The ease of the relationship. A straight man and a woman seem to sniff around each other before one actually makes a move and then there are the emotions, the definite problem of the fact that they speak two different languages and unfortunately someone always makes it into something more than what it actually is. But a gay man and a woman? It’s very easy, we’re friends and it’s almost instantaneous.

5. The laughter, the drama, the passion, the over-the-top expressions. For some reason, any gay man that I’ve been around, even the laid-back ones, when I’m around them, I laugh more and everything is like being on Broadway…everything.

6. The great balance of woman and man. I get the emotional compassion and understanding of a woman, but the insight, the phsyical strength, the fix-it attitude of a man. It’s perfect.

7. The level of comfort. I guess this sort of goes back to #4 with the ease of the relationship, but there’s no judging when I talk to my gay guys and funny as it may seem to my heteros, when I tell one of my gay guys how much I LOVE them, they just smile, hug me and tell me that I am “so precious” and that they love me too.

8. No judging. Not about my past, my present or what I want to do with my future. They may judge my clothing, my hair, my makeup and even what guy I want to date, but the things that matter? There’s only understanding.

9. They are beautiful. I could sit and just look at a gay man like David Tutera or John Barrowman or Sky ( http://www.thinlinebetween.tumblr.com ) and never ever grow bored. I have yet to see a gay man that I didn’t see something beautiful about.

10. The passion. Gay men sort of remind me of Italians. They are passionate about EVERYTHING and so am I. It’s surreal and kismet and such a relief to know that there are others who get just as fired up as I do about certain issues. And not just talk about it, but put action into words.

Gay men are my soul-mates I guess you could say. Maybe that’s my obsession with them? Every one of them that I have met I feel a connection with on a certain level and when I’m around them I can breathe easier, I am more comfortable than if I am surrounded by women, where I instantly feel like I have to look, talk, act, move, think and believe a certain way, where I feel instant competition and it’s a competition to the death (or the altar-which is pretty much the same thing in some circles). It is more comfortable than being surrounded by straight men, because in the same manner I feel as though I have to look, talk, act, move, think and believe a certain way because hell, one of them could be the perfect guy for me, or doing the wrong thing could make me get raped or hit on or flirted with.


Maybe that’s what it is.

I am comfortable with gay men, at ease with them. AT PEACE with them. And really, once you find the source of your peace, don’t you spend every moment, every resource, do all you can do, to surround yourself with that source of peace?

Thunderstorms

So, while reading a few short stories online, I came across a story about a couple who for different reasons are afraid of storms and their affects. It of course made me think about my own fear of storms, or rather my own sense of foreboding and hesitation over them. Like all fear it is connected to a memory, a bad one.

I was a young woman, a girl really and it was storming outside. I had gone to visit a friend of mine and was spending the night. She'd gone to take a shower and her brother, whom I found incredibly attractive, was home. He'd come into the living room where I'd been watching the Olsen twins in "Double, Double, Toil and Trouble" (yeah, this was a while ago). He'd asked me how long I'd known his sister, if she was my best friend, things like that. He was making small talk, putting me at ease, which didn't take too long. I was a lot more mature than my other friends by the time I was 10. Much of which was due to things I'd experienced earlier in my childhood. I remember that it didn't take long before I was smiling and laughing with him. I'd been raised in a very strict, very correct and upstanding "Christian" household. I put the quotations because while my mother was the embodiment of a true Christian, my father was only the shell of one. But that's neither here nor there.

Because of my upbringing in this staunch Christian household, my parents had pretty much glazed over the whole sex talk thing. I do believe that when I started my monthly cycle at the age of 9, my father took me out for ice cream, told me that now I could get pregnant. That sex was where babies came from and that sex was only for married people. So when my friend's brother asked me to come to his room and then asked me if I wanted to play a game called sex, I was of course, reticent, about the whole thing.

"My mommy and daddy said that sex is only for married people and that that's where babies come from." I'd told him with sincerity and innocence, completely trusting.

"Oh no, they got it wrong. Making love is for married people. And babies come from inside of the mommy's belly. But you can't get a baby from playing sex and anyone can play it," he'd responded, sounding so sure, so certain, so knowledgeable and HELPFUL that I believed him almost instantly.

Well, anyone can deduce what happened between me, a 10 year old girl, a P.K. (Preacher's Kid) and this 16 year old "man". After getting me to take off my clothes and lay down on the bed, after hurting me, after ignoring my please and cries for him to stop, after he'd finished with me, told me to get dressed and then pushed me out of the room, I was afraid of storms. You see, it had been storming really hard in Meridian, Mississippi that day. Oh I can sleep through some of them, if I fell asleep before the storm started and I've taken the right "painkiller cocktail" I can sleep through almost anything, but if I'm awake when the storm starts, well, I stay awake through the entire thing, my hands slightly shaking, my throat tight, my mind struggling not to remember.

As I read this story, I struggled with my own memories of that night. Then I struggled with memories of the two men that I'd shared that story with and of their two different reactions. I'd shared that story with Christopher, my fiance, shortly after seeing a senior citizen get mowed down by a vehicle in the middle of the street (I still remember that incident with clarity) and with Brandon, someone I still cannot identify even after all this time (was he my boyfriend, my friend? What the hell were we to each other?). And just like the two of them, their reactions were like night and day. Brandon listened to me as I shared with him this painful story, said "Aaww baby, I'm so sorry. C'mere" and pulled me into his arms, rubbing my back as I jumped at every sound of thunder, falling asleep way before I did, forgetting the entire incident in the morning. Whereas Christopher, my knight in shining armor, listened, pulled me roughly into his arms and then demanded the name of the boy who'd raped me. When I refused to give it to him, because really, it had been 11 years by that point, the statute of limitations was up and honestly, I'd gotten past it....for the most part. Realizing that I had no plans to tell him, he'd sat down on the bed and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. We sat there for almost fifteen minutes just holding each other. Then he'd laid down on the bed and held me in his arms, then he began to talk to me about our future together. How many children he wanted us to have, the house he wanted us to live in, how he'd be the man behind the woman when I took over the world with my writing, acting, singing, dancing and non profit organizations.

Christopher whispered words of love to me, cherishing me as I relived the painful memory. Then he held me in his arms, singing softly to me (off-key and out of tune) until I fell asleep.

People will always have different reactions to your life story. Everyone has one, everyone has a special sort of "life hell" that they'll have to endure and people around you will respond to it and to you differently. You'll lose people from your life when they're unable to handle it or to understand you or the situation(s) you'll endure. People will enter your life because they see you going through hell and it makes them feel better about themselves and their own lives. Then there are those people, the Christophers, who want to fight on your behalf, who love you, who draw you through the thunderstorms, protecting you, loving you, until the hell, the storm passes or until you find peace.

It's the difference between those people who are temporary dwellers in your life and those who are etched into your life. In a year or so, a few months Brandon will be completely forgotten by me (and not a moment too soon), but Christopher will be remembered by me forever. He, I will never forget, and will never want to forget.

I may have met Brandon after Christopher passed away, but it's Christopher who is freshest on my mind. He is the reason why I only shake a little when I hear a thunderstorm rather than fiercely shaking and crying silently when one hits. I will remember him forever. I will love him forever. And that's just something that you don't ever forget.

Is there something in your life that's tied to a painful memory? How can you tie that thing to something positive? Who is the person in your life who can help? Think about this today.

Have a great weekend all!

Wow

It's been a while since I've written a blog. Blame my long, physically demanding hours at work. I literally come home and pass out every morning. There have been so many things that have gone on that I wanted to share but of course, I was just too tired to do so, but I did think about this blog if that's any consolation.

First thing first (what's up with that phrase anyway? It makes no sense, if it's the first thing of course it will be first. Why reiterate that fact? Anyway...). At my job (I work overnight at Walmart) the gossip has gotten absolutely ridiculous. When it first started about me, I figured that it was because I was "the new girl." I mean, it happens, people speculate about a person, why they are who they are, how they got there, etc. So at first I overlooked the "she's stuck-up," "she's a bitch," "she thinks she's better than everyone else" comments. Then it became "she's a nympho," that one kind of bothered me, but still I said nothing. However, as if my silence and non-response was pissing off the gossipers, it got worse: "she had sex with five guys that work here, she let them run a train on her," "she got kicked out of the military for having sex with her drill sergeant," "she's a lesbian," "she's bisexual," etc. The gossip got more malicious, more damaging and started pissing me off more and more. These people don't even know me, and the ones that are talking are the ones that I don't speak to at all. Maybe that made them mad? I don't know and at first I didn't care, however, it got to the point where I had to let "Bonifah," the name I gave my temper, come out. I subtley threatened or warned some of them, and confronted others.
Do they not know how destructive gossip is? How damaging? Gossip can ruin lives, cause breakups, people kill themselves over gossip. I'm not there, trust me, but I am pissed off to the point where I realize that I may need to transfer and soon in order to preserve my sanity. This is why I don't like people most of the time. Just people in general. And that's very hard to reconcile with my optimistic-"people are basically good"-hopeful-happy personality. I'm not angry, violent, or frustrated by nature, but I'm that way every time I set foot into that building.
So, there's the gossip and then there's the guy. We'll call him....J.D. because those are his initials. So J.D. and I began our flirtation about two months into my employment at my store. I was serious about it, he seemed serious about it. We made out in the store, we constantly texted each other, we talked about the parameters of our "relationship." Then I went into the hospital for castochondritis and he proceeds to tell me that it was all a joke on his part. WTF?! Yeah, I was pissed. But I can read people very well. I tend to overlook or ignore my instincts and intuitions about certain people, but I'm usually right (it's a: "something's just not right" kind of thing). So, because I felt like he actually was attracted to me just scared or hesitant to get involved because we worked together, I kept talking to him, flirting with him, hanging out with him. And we definitely had our moments where it was apparent to anyone looking at us that we liked each other, and then I found one of the roots of our problem. We'll call him J.B. since those are HIS initials.
Never have I wanted to strangle someone as much as I wanted to strangle J.B. Here's this young, African-American BOY (J.D. is Puerto Rican and I'm apparently in my I want a Hispanic man phase- ie, Adam Rodriguez who is HOT.) who feels as if he's ENTITLED to me or that I'm OBLIGATED to talk to him or want him because HE SAYS SO (Yeah, I'm still pissed off about it). He's an arrogant S.O.B. who makes my skin crawl when I think about being around him and my stomach lurch when I think about being alone with him. He's young, stupid, did I mention arrogant? Someone spent way too much time telling him, or leading him to believe, that he was God's gift to women. He tried to be the jerk that picks up women by insulting them (if you've ever seen Criminal Minds Season 04 Episode 09 "52 Pickup" then you know the technique). I'm definitely one of those women that is not only immune to that particular technique, I'm turned off by it. He angers me when I have to talk to him or deal with him, think about him or whatever. As you can probably tell.
Anyway, apparently J.B. was talking to J.D. about me behind my back, egging him on, prompting him to do things, to say things, etc. Living vicariously through him, dating me through him. Which is sick and yes, childish. Like some Cyrano crap. Except the words and the looks all came from J.D.
Last but not least, my birthday is in November, November 16th (Let's give it up for Scorpios! Woohoo!!). And some friends and I are going to Las Vegas, NV for my birthday. I'm supremely excited about the whole thing. We're going to be staying in the Bellagio Hotel and spending four days there. I can't wait to see what happens, who gets married, which celebrities we'll see (GOD, please let Shemar Moore be there and let him be attracted to me! That would be THE PERFECT birthday present-Four days and nights of hot blissful, toe-curling, earth shattering, addictive sex with that FINE piece of man chocolately caramel), how much we lose and win gambling. It's going to be great!!
Well, writing this blog has actually made me tired, which is a good thing. I'll be going to sleep now, I hope all of you out there have a great day/night. Be happy and from what I've learned this past week, don't be afraid to stand up for yourself or to pursue what you want, you'll be happy that you did in the end.

Prologue-Chapter Three of "Glorious Mistake"

Prologue
Savannah tiptoed over to the bathroom to look for it there. Where could it have gone to? She wondered. Looking around quickly she tried not to yell out in excitement when she saw her bra hanging from the lamp by the bed. Rushing quietly she snatched it from its post and stuffed it in the pocket of her hunter green wool trench coat. Slinging her Jimmy Choos over her fingers she picked up her purse, combed her fingers through her unruly black Caribbean hair and walked to the door, careful to make sure that she didn’t make any noise. Opening the door she walked quickly through, before the door closed, she made sure to turn back and get one last glimpse at her latest mistake.
There he was, his black hair almost concealing his face, where it hung off the bed. He was a beautiful specimen, she had to admit that. His athletically muscled body was a direct contradiction to his rumpled Armani suit that was haphazardly tossed on the table. They had been in a little bit of a rush the two of them.
Having met in a bar the night before, Savannah was well on her way to what she liked to call Drunksville when she saw him walking in with who she could only guess was his angelic posse. All of them gorgeous, but it was him that caught her attention. She’d nudged her best friends, the group of them affectionately called the Alphas because of their A+ grades, looks, status, class, and culture; and made her way over to his table. When he looked up her heart had slammed in her chest and for the first time she’d been struck mute, then when he smiled at her, she’d been struck dumb. When he stood up from his table and held out his hand the only thing she could do was accept his invitation and follow him out onto the makeshift dance floor. The two of them danced three dances, their eyes locked on each other, neither of them speaking.
At the end of the last song she finally spoke.
“My name is Savannah,” she whispered.
“Hello Savannah, my name is Armando,” he stated, his voice a deeply sensuous growl.
“Well Armando, thank you very much for the dance, I really enjoyed it,” she replied as she turned to walk away.
“Wait a minute, Cara mia; are you seriously going to walk away from me like that? After sharing such passionate dances with me? I cannot allow you to do such a thing. It would not be good for either of us,” he said as he tightened his grip on her hand.
“Well then, what are you suggesting sir?” she questioned flirtatiously.
“You and I, we need to get to know each other better, much better. Will you come to my room for a drink?”
And while Savannah did not engage in one-night stands or drunken liaisons it was something about this handsome, muscled Italian that drew her into him.
“Yes, I will. Just let me tell my friends and I’ll meet you by the elevators,” she smiled at him seductively.
“I look forward to it,” he stated before kissing the back of her hand and walking towards the elevators.
Savannah walked quickly over to her friends. They all stood waiting with bated breath, the knowing smiles giving away the fact that they’d been watching her the whole time that she’d been dancing with Armando. The Alphas, she thought to herself as her eyes perused her four best friends. They all looked completely different from one another, all of them coming from different backgrounds and familial structures, but all of them professional and at the top of their game. There was Ming Lae, whose father was Asian and mother was black. Ming was the highest paid lawyer in Atlanta where she practiced family law. Ming’s long black hair was the source of much teasing when she was growing up, usually by girls who were jealous of her beautiful caramel color, seductive eyes, and petite figure all topped off with the most beautiful black hair in the world that came to her hips. Ming had her hair swept up into her signature coiffure but it did nothing to diminish her beauty, neither did the black pantsuit that she‘d chosen to wear that evening. Ming’s parents had met during her mother’s second tour of duty in Japan when she served in the Army. Their love story was the biggest reason that the Alphas all decided that they wouldn’t settle for second best.
Then there was Susan. At first glance she looked the part of the All-American girl with her blonde hair, blue eyes and supermodel figure, however, after getting to know her the fierceness of her personality and the intelligence that she possessed overshadowed and obliterated all preconceived notions about blondes. Susan’s parents were wealthy, both of them having come from money, they met in prep school and got married right after they graduated from college. Susan’s birth came as something of a shock to her parents as they’d been told after three years of trying that they were unable to conceive children, and then lo and behold they were told on the anniversary of their fourth year that they were going to be having a baby. They called Susan their miracle baby as she was the only child that they had. It was because of this fact that they tended to be overprotective of her. Susan didn’t let it bother her; she just smiled and continued her work as a scientist in her lab in Illinois. Susan was determined to discover the cure for cancer and HIV, and she was well on her way, the drug that she’d invented had been known to extend the lifespan of HIV patients for 10 years. Susan’s blonde hair was pulled up into her signature “Geisha girl” style, complete with chopsticks and a flower at the back of her hair, her lithe body wrapped in a purple dress.
Savannah’s eyes traveled over the comic of the group. Ava was seen as being the comedienne because she was always cracking jokes when they all got together. Ava stated that it was because of her serious job as a detective for the Special Victims Unit in New York’s Police Department that she was such a character when they all got together. Ava was a Spanish beauty and one look at her all breath left the body, male or female they were all attracted to her. Her body was athletic and firm due to the rigors of her job, her black hair, usually in a bun, was in curls framing her face and falling down to her shoulders. Her uniform had been left in her apartment in New York and tonight she was wearing a gorgeous red Salsa dress, laughingly stating she didn’t know why she wore it as she and Savannah were the only ones who knew how to do the Salsa, the rest of them were merely “fuddy duddies.” Ava had been raised by her grandmother after her parents died in a revolt that took place in Madrid. Ava’s grandmother was a loving woman who taught Ava how to be strong in body, mind and spirit, but also teaching Ava early on that men were not to be trusted. It had taken years for Ava and her current boyfriend of five years to overcome the hurdles of her upbringing. They had though and Ava had stated that very day that she thought that he might be proposing soon.
Looking over at Evangeline, Savannah felt her face pull into a smile. Evangeline and Savannah were the closest of the entire group. That had a lot to do with the fact that they were roommates in college and the fact that they both lived in Texas. Evangeline was raised by her single mother after her father was gunned down at the courthouse when he went to testify against a racist group that had been terrorizing the neighborhood. Evangeline’s mother was a beautiful Native American and her father had been a strong, educated African from Darfur in the Sudan, who’d migrated over to the United States to create a better life for himself, when his father was killed and his sisters and mother were raped and then kidnapped right in front of him where he hid in the closet where his eldest sister, Mulani had shoved him along with his youngest sister, Kolata. After the terrorists left, he’d taken his sister and they’d fled. By panhandling, begging, studying English, enlisting in school and working odd jobs, he was able to get them to the states. Once he did he met and fell in love with Evangeline’s Native American mother. They’d endured a lot even before the murder, but after Evangeline’s father died, the family really suffered a blow. However, Evangeline and her mother are extremely resourceful and strong and they were able to overcome the pain and anger that came after being dealt that blow. Evangeline had gone on to be one of the world’s foremost and most sought after diplomats, speaking out against oppression of any kind. Her writings and books sold for a bundle, but Evangeline was still just an Alpha, whose idea it was for them all to get together at least once a month in a vacation spot or hotel so that they could all unwind from the pressures of their lives and jobs.
However it was Savannah, with her milk chocolate skin, tall lithe “porn star” figure, almond shaped eyes, full lips that surrounded a gorgeous smile, and beautiful black hair that hung to just below her shoulders that usually commanded the most attention when they were all together. Having grown up with both her parents, Savannah always joked that she was not the normal statistic. Living in government housing for half of her life, Savannah watched her parents struggle to make ends meet. Her mother ran a hair salon from their living room and her father worked at the local warehouse as he struggled to start his own trucking company. Savannah began going to the local library and studying foreign languages and countries in order to escape the poverty of her own life. It wasn’t too long before Savannah was fluent in Spanish, French, Italian, Arabic, Swahili, Russian, German, Hebrew, and Japanese. Her teachers paid for her to go on every school trip and before long everything in her life was great. By the time junior year of high school came around, her father’s trucking company was nationwide, her mother owned one of the most well-known high end hair salons and boutiques, one that even celebrities flew all the way to Texas to come to. From Gabrielle Union to Mandy Moore, her mother’s salon and boutique had been written up in every magazine and newspaper out there. As for Savannah, she’d gotten a full-ride scholarship for languages to the University of Texas and shortly after graduation had gotten a job as a translator for a multi-cultural corporation. It was there at UT that she’d met Evangeline in her dorm room, Ming Lae in one of her Foreign Affairs classes, Susan in one of her Science classes, and Ava in one of her English classes. She’d introduced the girls to each other, and while out in the library one night studying, the group had achieved their name when a guy who had been snubbed by Ming Lae came over and called them the Alphas, because they lived and thought like they were A-pluses. The five girls had laughed as he marched off in a huff but as they said the name simultaneously, they realized that they liked it. Others thought that they were a part of a sorority, and many girls were disappointed to find out that they weren’t. They sure felt like they were, however, being as close as sisters can be.
And being just like sisters, when she told them where she was going they all had something to say. Regardless of the warnings and the cautions, Savannah had gone anyway, and now she was walking away from the door of the gorgeously handsome Italian stranger that she’d just had an explosive night with. Sighing dejectedly as the elevator doors closed with a ding, she knew that the only thing she’d have to remember that night with were memories, the sweet ache between her thighs, and a name…..Armando.
If only things could’ve been different, she thought to herself. “Ah well,” she said aloud as she walked off the elevator to the front doors of the hotel, valet slip in hand, “it’s just as well that we forget each other. He won’t remember me and I will forget about him after tonight.”
And as she drove away in her silver Lamborghini, she really thought that was true. But we know how sometimes mistakes….even glorious ones have repercussions.
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…”-Juliet, Romeo & Juliet ACT I, Scene IV
　
　
　
　
Chapter One
Savannah wiped her now sweaty palms along the length of her hip hugging brown skirt. Sighing she checked her appearance in the full length bathroom mirror once again, making sure to smooth any stray hairs and smacking her lips together in frustration when she noticed the stain on her shirt collar. “Victoria!” she gritted in frustration. Turning back to the sink she grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the sink water. Wiping furiously at the spot her actions slowed as she thought about Victoria, affectionately called “Vicky.” She was so sweet and cute it was hard to stay mad at her. Calm once again, Savannah checked her appearance once more in the mirror. From her new haircut, stopping to just below her chin, to her new brown suit with a brown and white striped collar shirt and her stockings and brown Jimmy Choos, she looked the part of a professional.
Sighing again, this time in satisfaction, she squatted down delicately, picking up her brown portfolio, slung her attaché case on her right shoulder and turned to leave the plush, elegant and sophisticated bathroom in the high-end company that she was having a meeting at and smiled as she passed the janitor who was coming in to clean. Stepping out into the hallway, she looked at the Directory posted up on the wall to make sure she was heading in the right direction and turning to the left she set off to the office of Mr. Santorini.
Quickly refreshing her mind of all she knew of Mr. Santorini, Savannah barely noticed the many offices that she passed, the thick maroon carpet that she walked on or the men who stopped and stared with their mouths hanging open in appreciation. Her mother had long ago told her that she walked like a supermodel, even pushing her daughter to attempt to become a supermodel. Savannah loved her languages, however, and in order to appease her mother, did a little bit of modeling while attending college in order to have extra money to go on trips and for shopping excursions. She’d grown independent early on and had hated asking her parents for money so having the occasional odd jobs had helped in that aspect. Refocusing her thoughts, Savannah reminded herself that she’d been told that Mr. Santorini was known as the quintessential Italian ladies-man. He was very big on family, loyalty, trust, and dependency. She hadn’t been told if he was married, young or old, but none of those things mattered. She’d stopped her work for the government two years ago so that she could be closer to home and now worked for a company that hired out translators for mergers, vacations, classes, conferences, conventions, and hostile corporate takeovers. Savannah had done more traveling in the last two years than ever before, but never for too long and always coming home.
Finding herself outside of the office of Mr. A. Santorini, Savannah took a deep, cleansing breath, not knowing why she was suddenly so nervous; she’d never been nervous before and stepped into the lobby of his office. Savannah gasped as she took in the vastness of the lobby before her. Her eyes took in the maroon and gold furnishings. From the comfortable looking chaise lounge to the fully stocked magazine rack to the gorgeous gold trimmed maple desks where two women sat, everything there spoke of elegance. Savannah walked sedately over to the desk of the woman whose nameplate stated that she was the receptionist and waited for her to finish her call. Trying not to gape at the phone’s multi-line system that had every line lit up, Savannah allowed her eyes to roam over the walls. Taking in the pictures of buildings and well-known products Savannah tried not to be intimidated by the popularity and success of the company.
“Miss?” Savannah heard herself being addressed and focused on the receptionist, realizing that she’d probably been called repeatedly.
“Oh! I apologize. I was just admiring the work that your company has done,” she admitted to the amused receptionist.
“It’s perfectly fine ma’am. How may I help you?” she asked.
“My name is Miss Savannah Hunter and I’m here for a meeting with Mr. Santorini,” she explained with a smile.
Elizabeth tried not to gasp when Savannah smiled at her. She’d never been attracted to a woman before but when Miss Hunter smiled she found herself reconsidering her earlier misgivings. Smiling warmly at her she responded with a friendly smile.
“Miss Hunter! Mr. Santorini has been expecting you! He just stepped out for a minute but asked that you wait in his office should you arrive. If you’ll just follow me I’ll show you in?”
Instantly liking this receptionist, Savannah agreed wholeheartedly and followed the receptionist into the office directly behind her desk. Walking in, Savannah was once again shocked, only not by the elegance of the office but by the simplicity of it.
“I know it’s amazing isn’t it? Mr. Santorini let his mother design the entire building, but he designed his office. It really shows what kind of man he is,” Elizabeth stated, “My name is Elizabeth, by the way, and if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”
Savannah smiled at Elizabeth once again and politely refused her offer of a drink. Turning back to the office, Savannah made herself comfortable at the plain cherry wood table on the left side of the office and opened her portfolio. Setting up for the notes and reports that she’d made in order to help her client, Savannah caught sight of something out of the window and wandered over to investigate. Turning when she heard the door open, she opened her mouth to greet Mr. Santorini, the words died in her throat however, when she saw him.
“You’re Mr. Santorini?” she whispered.
Armando could remember only two times in his life where he’d ever been shocked speechless. Both of which had something to do with the woman standing in front of him. He stood still in shock as his eyes took in the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last two years. She still looked amazing. Her hair was shorter, but it looked good on her. She’d filled out some. She was still slim, but her bosom looked bigger and her hips had spread a little. In one word she looked, GORGEOUS.
Swallowing deeply he answered her question, “Yes, I’m Mr. Santorini. And I take it that you’re Miss Hunter? What a coincidence. When you snuck out of my hotel room two years ago, I thought that I’d never see you again, and now here you are, about to work for me,” his voice was silky sweet as he slid into Italian, sure that she could understand him.
Smiling at him without humor, Savannah answered him back in Italian, “I left two years ago without saying goodbye because I felt that it was what was best for the both of us,” ignoring his grunt of disbelief she continued, “you may not realize it now, but I promise you, it’s what was best. I mean, especially considering my last two years. But, contrary to what you believe, I don’t work for you; I work for my company, whom you hired for consultation. I am your consultant, your translator. I am here to assist you, but let’s get one thing straight,” she walked closer to him, “if you start acting high-handed with me, I will walk out and send in my assistant to help you instead.”
Turning around and walking away from him, she sat down on the couch in the room and setting her attaché case on her lap, she opened it, “Now, let’s get down to business shall we? We’ll leave our brief history in the past where it belongs and get through this initial meeting.”
Armando nodded even as he headed to his chair. Sitting down behind his desk gave him a sense of normalcy, a sense of control and power. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten.
“Mr. Santorini?” Savannah questioned, her voice filled with concern.
“Give me a second,” Armando whispered. Thinking of his home in Italy, Armando took his mind off of the enticing woman in front of him. When he reached one, he opened his eyes, his implacable business mask firmly in place.
“Well Miss Hunter, let’s get to work.”
　
Five hours later the two workaholics closed their folders and rose from their chairs. Picking up her suit jacket, Savannah glanced at her watch and realized that she needed to go home to check on Vicky. Placing the jacket over her arm, she grabbed her attaché case and smiled at Armando.
“Mr. Santorini,” she stated before nodding her head and turning to leave.
“I’ll see you in the morning Miss Hunter, and please, be on time,” Armando replied as he packed up to leave also.
Savannah smiled, thankful that her back was still to him. “Of course Mr. Santorini. Ciao,” she answered as she walked out of the door without looking back.
Armando sat back in his chair as he watched her walk down the hallway, grinning in male appreciation of her supple form. It wasn’t until he heard the ding of the elevator doors signaling that she’d gotten to the bottom floor that he allowed himself to look around the room. It was then that he noticed that she’d left her notes from that day. Knowing that she needed it in order to prepare for tomorrow, Armando leapt out of his chair and snatched up the folder, running down the hallway to try and catch her before she got to her car. Suddenly he stopped. While she wanted to forget everything that had occurred between them two years ago, Armando wasn’t in agreement like she thought he was. No woman could forget him, whether they wanted to or not, and while he’d forgotten nearly everyone woman he’d ever slept with, she was the first and only one that he’d been haunted by. She might think it was a mistake, but he believed in what Italians liked to call destino. They were brought together for a reason, and it was for that reason that the Universe kept throwing them back together. He wouldn’t rest until he found out what that reason was.
　
　
　
　
　
Chapter Two
Savannah pulled into her garage and sighed as she turned off her engine. Another long day, one filled with reuniting with someone that she’d hoped to forget for the rest of her life. Although, it was nearly impossible for her to ever completely forget Armando…Santorini. She sighed again, what cruel twist of fate had her consulting for his firm? And the very fact that it was such a complicated situation, one that would require them to work together in very close quarters, alone, and for very long hours, did not make the matter any better. Groaning aloud in her car, Savannah opened the door and got out of the car gracefully. The fifteen years of forced ballet training and classes imposed upon her by her parents was always evident with her graceful walk and fluid movements. Walking into her four bedroom family home, Savannah smiled. It didn’t matter what kind of day she’d had, whenever she walked into her home she always smiled. It was so very homey. With it’s butterscotch colored walls, a kitchen that any chef would kill for and a large backyard, she had the home that she’d always dreamed of.
“Now all I need is a man to complete the picture and I’ll be set,” she stated to the heavens as she kicked off her shoes and placed them in the shoe basket by the garage door. Pushing away the unbidden image of Armando Santorini, she walked quickly down the hallway to the living room and the sounds of the television and laughter.
Sitting on her favorite pink blanket in the middle of the floor was her beautiful, 15 month old daughter, Victoria, laughing at the images of her favorite cartoon characters on the television. When Savannah stepped fully into the room, Vicky’s eyes quickly turned to her. Smiling widely and chanting “Mama”, the gorgeous newly walking infant, who often turned heads with her olive skin tone, wide slanted hazel eyes, full head of thick, black hair, and cute rosebud lips toddled away from her babysitter towards her mother. Savannah’s throat closed up with emotion as it always did whenever Vicky called her “Mama.” Scooping her up, Savannah kissed Vicky’s cheek and snuggled her neck, smiling as Vicky giggled. Cuddling her close, Savannah looked up and met the gaze of her babysitter, and best friend, Evangeline.
“How was she Vangee?” Savannah asked as she walked with Evangeline to the door.
“A complete angel as always,” Evangeline replied her eyes softening as she looked at Vicky.
“That’s good. You don’t want to stay for dinner? I’ve got some crazy news to share with you,” Savannah said as Evangeline opened the door.
Both women were so engrossed in their conversation that neither of them noticed the tall, Italian man walking up the walkway with the portfolio in his hand. Armando had found Savannah’s address when he’d opened the brown portfolio and had promptly gotten in his car to drive over. He kept telling himself that he was only in a hurry to bring her the documents so that she’d be prepared for work the next morning, but if he was completely honest with himself, it was because he’d wanted to see where she lived and he’d wanted to see her just one more time.
Back in the house, Evangeline and Savannah stood in the open doorway talking quickly because Evangeline had to get back to her own home to let her two dogs out so that they could “do their business.”
“So what happened today that has you in such a tizzy?” Evangeline asked amused at Savannah’s tone.
“You will never guess who Mr. Santorini is,” Savannah began.
“Who?” Evangeline asked, intrigued by the way Savannah’s voice was shaking.
“Armando.”
Evangeline gasped…she had to have heard incorrectly. “Armando who? The only Armando I know is the Armando, that you foolishly hooked up with two years ago in a bar. The smooth, muscled, sexy Italian. The father of Victoria. That’s the ONLY Armando that I’ve EVER heard you talk about, so what Armando is it that you’re working with?” she questioned, her eyes going wide in shock.
“Vicky’s father, Armando!! What am I going to do Vangee? What if he comes by and sees her? She looks just like him, he’d have to be stupid to not know that she was his daughter after taking one good look at her,” Savannah said frantically.
Evangeline and Savannah turned and gasped in shock when they heard a deep voice state in a voice that sounded equal parts shock, barely concealed rage, and amazingly amusement: “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not stupid then” and they saw Armando standing not two feet away from them, his eyes glued on the little girl who stared at him with hazel eyes, wide with curiosity at the stranger.
Armando was going to have to revise his earlier statement, there had been THREE times that he’d ever been shocked speechless, and amazingly they all STILL had to with THIS WOMAN!! She’d gotten pregnant when they’d hooked up two years ago, had his baby, a daughter apparently, kept the baby, and had never thought to tell him that he was a father…he was a father!! That thought alone rendered him speechless, but to be looking at the product of a hot, passionate, glorious…MISTAKE was too much…even for him. Looking up into the unblinking, shocked eyes of the woman who had SO MUCH explaining to do he said in voice that sounded almost like a growl “In the house…NOW…we have MUCH to discuss!” Barely glancing at her friend who by now had made her way completely out of the door and was standing in front of her friend as if protecting her, Armando made his way inside and waited for her to make her goodbyes. He heard her whispered conversation as she assured her friend that she’d be okay, and that yes, she could leave, and that yes, she’d call if something happened and that no, she didn’t think he was dangerous, all before he heard her come back in and close the door. Turning around slowly to face her, he watched as she gracefully strode past him, clutching tightly to the little girl who was still staring at him intently.
He followed her into her living room and watched as she placed the infant down on the blanket. The little girl continued to watch him, though now she did so with her thumb popped into her mouth.
“Vicky, no. Mommy told you that you can’t suck on your thumb,” Savannah whispered as she pulled Vicky’s thumb out of her mouth.
“Vicky?” he questioned, some of his anger having abated.
“Yes,” Savannah answered, turning to look at him as she handed toys to the child, “It’s short for Victoria.”
“My mother’s name is Victoria,” Armando whispered.
“I know. You told me in your room, one of the times that we rested,” Savannah whispered back, refusing to look at him.
Armando swung his gaze to her face. “You remembered that? And that’s why you named her Victoria?” he inquired.
“Victoria Diane…Diane after my mother, Victoria after yours…her…father,” Savannah hesitated and then looked up at him.
The two of them stared at each other for a long time.
“Why Savannah? Why didn’t you tell me? It’s been two years, why didn’t you tell me that I was a father?” Armando asked, his voice breaking with emotion.
“Because it was a mistake. Because it wasn’t supposed to happen…” Savannah began.
“The truth,” Armando demanded in a hushed voice.
“Because I didn’t want to have to see you again and possibly lose my daughter to you,” Savannah finally stated truthfully.
Armando nodded and then looked back at Vicky who had stood up by this time. He saw so much of himself in her. From her eyes to her chin, he could see what Savannah had meant from her earlier statement, he’d have to be an idiot to not know that she was his child.
“Do you want to hold her?” Savannah asked, her voice quavering with nervousness.
“I’d love too,” Armando answered, not caring that Savannah was nervous about it. She’d known for two years and had told him nothing. She’d kept his daughter from him. As he accepted Vicky into his arms and the two of them sat staring at each other, his heart constricted with a protective and possessive instinct that he didn’t know that he possessed. Smiling at Vicky, he was surprised and pleased when she giggled and threw her arms around his neck for a hug. As his arms tightened around her, Armando fought back tears. This was his daughter, his princess, he was her father and he would be damned if anyone would keep her from him…not even her gorgeous, distracting mother.
　
Savannah stood watching Armando hug Vicky, her heart in her throat. It was such a touching scene that for a moment Savannah found herself feeling slightly guilty that she hadn’t found some kind of way to alert Armando that she’d been pregnant with his child. Vicky was cuddled against his chest and Savannah was more than a little shocked. While always a happy and friendly baby, Vicky had never taken so quickly to someone that she didn’t know. Sighing at the idea that her daughter knew her father even though he hadn’t been around for the pregnancy or the past 15 months, Savannah moved to sit down on the couch next to Armando. Smiling at Vicky when she looked at her, Savannah fully expected for Vicky to reach for her. So she was even more shocked when she snuggled closer to Armando and closed her eyes in sleep.
“Wow,” she heard Armando whisper and she looked up into his eyes.
“Yeah, I know. She’s never done that before,” Savannah whispered back, her gaze having returned to Vicky.
“So when was she born?” Armando asked, his tone still hushed.
Looking back at him, Savannah realized that it was time for the interrogation to begin. Steeling herself against the overwhelming emotions that she always felt whenever she talked about the birth of her daughter, she whispered thickly, “December 25th.”
“She’s a Christmas baby?” Armando asked, a smile evident in his voice.
“Yeah, my little Christmas miracle,” Savannah responded.
“Was the labor hard?”
“Not harder than any other I would suspect.”
“Were there any problems during the pregnancy?”
“No, it was amazingly easy. I mean, besides the morning sickness and the mood swings, everything else was a breeze.”
Armando smiled down at Vicky who now slept peacefully in his arms. “Well, that’s good,” he hesitated, unsure of how to proceed, “I want to be involved in her life.”
Sighing resignedly Savannah nodded. “I figured you would say that when I saw your reaction to her. I’m sure that we can work out something.”
Handing Vicky over to Savannah, Armando rose from the couch. The notes that he’d brought to give to Savannah forgotten on the floor. “Yes we will work something out. I will not be a weekend or a holiday father. I want her to know me. I want to know her. I want to be there for everything. Every little moment of her life. I’ve already missed so much, I won’t miss anymore.” Walking slowly towards the door, knowing that Savannah was following behind him, Armando made a quick decision. Not normally an impetuous person, he was surprised that his instincts didn’t protest at the spontaneous idea. He felt nothing but peace over the whole situation. Turning at the door, he faced Savannah.
“I won’t be so old fashioned as to ask you to marry me. However, one of two things will happen within the next two months. You will either move to Italy where I reside for 90 percent of the year,” Armando began, watching as Savannah’s eyes widened at the idea, “Or…I will move here, and not just in the area…but in your home, so that I can be close to my daughter,” pausing, he waited to let his words sink in. “You have three days to decide. I will see you in the morning. Come prepared to work. And do not think to run away with my daughter, because I will find you, I have the time and the unlimited resources to find you.” Looking down at Vicky he whispered softly. “Ciao bambina. I will see you soon.” Looking back up at Savannah who still seemed to be frozen in shock, he commanded, “Bring my daughter into the office with you tomorrow also. We can work with her there, and it’s time that everyone got a chance to meet the heiress to the Santorini empire.”
Opening the door and walking to his car, Armando felt the first true stirrings of peace settle around his mind and his shoulders, something he hadn’t felt in a long time, and the rapid beating of his heart when he thought about Savannah living in close proximity to him? Well…he’d just blame that on indigestion.
　
　
　
Chapter Three
Savannah hesitated outside of the doors of the Santorini building. Squaring her shoulders, she pushed the handicap button on the side of the building to open the doors and pushed the stroller that held Vicky through. She couldn’t believe that she was bringing her daughter to work with her. After agonizing over it all night, tossing and turning in her sleep, she’d come to the conclusion that Vicky was an enigma to her workaholic, bachelor father and that once the fascination of the situation wore off that he’d sign away his parental rights and never look back. Pushing the stroller off the elevator and heading towards Armando’s office, Savannah ignored the chill down her spine that told her that she was wrong. She had to believe that things were going to turn out that way. It was her only method of survival, because to imagine Armando Santorini in her life, everyday, for the rest of her life, or at least until Vicky turned 18, was too much for the single mother to handle.
Walking into the lobby of Armando’s office, Savannah was once again struck by its opulence. People looked at her parents, their home, her schools and automatically assumed that she came from a very wealthy family, not realizing that she didn’t start out that way. Smiling at Elizabeth, she nodded when she was waved in. Squaring her shoulders once more she knocked on the door and then gasped when Armando opened the door. The entire office had received a makeover, though how it had been done since the night before was absolutely amazing. The once all-masculine office now looked as if it belonged to a family man. In one corner of the office, behind Armando’s desk was a pink playpen, filled with teddy bears and baby dolls. In the other corner, again behind Armando’s desk, was a changing table; also pink. Stopping in the middle of the room Savannah spun around in a slow circle. A television that was playing cartoons was placed in the corner in front of a pink blanket that looked amazingly like the one that Vicky had been laying on the night before. Savannah turned to look at Armando, a questioning look on her face and was stopped from asking him any questions when she saw the puppy “desire-to-please” look on his face.
“She’s going to love it Armando. Thank you,” she said instead.
“You think so?” Armando asked, looking nervously at Vicky who was looking around with a look of awe on her face.
“We’ll just let her prove it to you. How about that?” Savannah replied, locking the stroller in place, walking around the front and taking Vicky out. Walking to the playpen, Savannah pulled out a handful of bears and dolls and put them outside the play area. Setting Vicky down on her feet, Savannah stepped back and smiled at Vicky’s squeal of delight. Vicky toddled over to the bears and dolls, picking them up and squeezing them in her arms, before moving on to the next one. Each one got a hug, the dolls receiving kisses in addition to the hugs. Picking up one teddy bear who had on a tie and jacket, Vicky seemed to study it before walking over to Armando with the bear outstretched. Armando knelt down to receive the bear, looking up at Savannah for an explanation.
“I think she’s telling you that the bear looks like you,” Savannah chuckled.
“Oh!” Armando nodded. Turning back to Vicky he asked in all seriousness, “You think the bear looks like your Papa?”
Studying him intently, Vicky smiled after a few moments of intense concentration, then launching herself into Armando’s arms, she said one word, a word that rocked both Armando and Savannah to their cores: “Papa!”
Savannah was rooted to the floor. Not even the winds from a hurricane or a tornado could have moved her from that spot in the middle of Armando’s floor, looking at her daughter, her baby, who had just called Armando, “Papa.” Technically and biologically he was her father, but she didn’t know anything about him. Where had she gone wrong? Why was her daughter so trusting? She was completely in love with a man that she’d only met the day before, a man that neither she, nor her mother, knew. With that thought Savannah realized why it bothered her so much. She’d read stories and heard cases of children and sometimes even full grown adults who meet their biological parents or parent for the first time and because of the blood connection and some type of genetic wiring, they were able to love them almost instantaneously. No, this situation bothered Savannah because her daughter was so comfortable with a man that Savannah had experienced one of her most reckless, exhilarating, glorious experiences or mistakes on. Yes, Armando was her own glorious mistake, and while she didn’t regret or bemoan the birth of her daughter, seeing him and her together brought back that night with sudden clarity. She didn’t want to relive that moment again and as it was she already struggled with the memories whenever she looked at Vicky, now with Armando being back on the scene she knew that the memories of that night, those stolen moments, that mistake would be forever evident in her mind.
Armando could feel Savannah’s eyes on him and wondered what she was thinking about. He smiled down at his daughter, delightfully surprised that she readily accepted him as her “Papa.” He’d always known that he would one day have a wife and plenty of bambinos who would look like him and call him “Papa” but ever since he’d shared that one glorious night with Savannah, he’d been unable to get back into dating seriously in order to find a wife, to achieve that desired goal. It was hard to see himself married to any of the women that he’d briefly dated when it was Savannah’s face that continuously swam before his eyes. It was her smile that he saw on every woman’s face, her body that he touched, no matter who he was with and in those rare moments when he found himself able to actually make love to one of the countless women that he found himself dating, it was her voice that he heard moaning and her face that he recalled when he found himself experiencing an orgasm. Now, the object of his dreams and frustrations was back in his life, and this time with his daughter. His daughter! He glanced up at Savannah, he knew what his mother would tell him if she was still alive: “Armando, my son, in the old country if a man gave a woman his seed to have a child, he would turn around and marry her. Italians are respectable, responsible, and possessive. You marry this girl and you do it now.”
Shaking off his mother’s voice, Armando knew that even if he knew Savannah well enough to want to marry her, there was no way that she would agree to marry him. He watched as Vicky’s little hazel eyes began to close in slumber and sighed. He wanted his daughter in his life, all the time, and he knew that Savannah would not let her go. Maybe marriage was the only way. He knew that he’d have to think it over a little more before he made his decision, because once he decided to marry her, there would be no stopping him. He always got what he wanted.
Savannah’s eyes narrowed as she watched Armando’s face become a shuttered mask of implacability and his shoulders straighten in determination. He looked as if he were preparing to go into battle. Fascinated, she continued to watch him, his black hair gleaming as he gently rocked Vicky in his arms. The fact that he was so good with Vicky and she was so comfortable with him was not lost on the single mother. Too often she’d considered the possibility that her daughter would instantly bond with her father should they ever meet, but it seemed so unlikely that that would ever occur that Savannah never really thought about what it would mean for her daughter. She’d met enough Italian men and knew enough about their values and culture to know that they considered family to be the most important thing in their lives. She’d always admired and appreciated that, now that that particular value system was affecting her life, however, she found it exceedingly annoying. She knew that Armando would insist on seeing Vicky at least once a week or more, which meant that she’d have to get used to relinquishing her daughter to the man who still haunted her dreams. Now it was Savannah’s turn to sigh. This was going to be complicated.