Time is a strange thing. It comes and goes as it pleases, completely unaware of the impact it has on the people who build their lives around it. On the one hand, whenever I spend a couple of hours with Jordan, time seems to fly by. I'd swear it was working against us and speeding up when I wasn't looking if I didn't know any better. On the other hand, those same two hours spent doing anything else, whether it's cooking, cleaning, or otherwise occupied with Andrew, seem to come to a halt as time crawls by at a snail's pace.I used to spend my days off at home reading books and doing unneeded housework, but since meeting Jordan, I prefer to spend all of my free time with him. One thing I adore about him is that there is never a dull moment. Even the dates we've had at his house, cuddling, sipping wine, and watching TV, have been exciting. We've gone out a few times now, and thankfully, no two evenings are the same. I thought my life was pretty good before Jordan, but Jordan is th

I stand in front of a large window in my high-rise office building, staring out at the city, my mind wandering. There are a million things I should be doing right now, such as taking calls, reading emails, or going over the proposals on my desk. To be honest, I can't seem to concentrate on anything. Aliyah has taken over my thoughts, rendering me incapable of making sound business decisions.I've been thinking about how to gently reveal a secret I've been keeping from her, but there isn't a good way to tell her. Maybe once I get this off my chest, I'll be able to breathe again.Will she despise me? What if she never speaks to me again?When she confronted me in the park, I should have told her the truth. I've never cared so much about a woman's feelings before, and now I'm agonizing over how to avoid hurting her too badly. I should have told her that day, damn it. Telling her now makes me appear guilty, and I don't want her to make the wrong assumptions.I'm the

The sun's warmth bears down on my face, slowly waking me up from my deep slumber.I stretch my arms up over my head, my eyes still closed. Sex is, without a doubt, the ultimate form of exercise. Who knew something so blissful could cause such severe pain throughout your entire body? I reach for Jordan, but all I feel is the opulent linen beneath my fingertips. My eyes open slightly to ensure that I am indeed alone. I turn to look in the bathroom, but it's dark and deserted. What happened to him?My stomach rumbles, and my thoughts turn to food. Right now, an open-faced egg sandwich with feta cheese and green onions would be ideal. Based on what I know about Jordan and his lack of culinary knowledge, I'm confident that none of the ingredients I require are in his home.Perhaps he'll be up for a quick store run, or we can persuade Ed to pick up a few items for us. A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice would be ideal.I kick my feet around like a big kid, enjoyin

I had to keep my promise and give Jordan another round after we finished eating. When my legs are fully functional again, I quickly gather my belongings and stumble back home like a baby deer discovering their legs for the first time. I'm a little achy all over, but nothing a long soak in the tub and some rest can't fix. He drains me completely, but the pleasure he provides is worth the side effects.I press the elevator button and lean against the wall as I wait for it to arrive at the lobby.I should have accepted Jordan's offer to carry me home.The elevator dings and the doors slide open, but Trixie and Mrs. Morales block my path."Oh my goodness, look at you. "You look like you had a bad night," she observes.Trixie pants loudly and attempts to jump on me."No, Trixie, come down." This morning, our young friend is not in the mood to wrestle with you."I shuffle by the two of them, embarrassed, but Mrs. Montgomery puts her hand against the door,

I thought Romina’s sour attitude would subside after her buzz wore off, but I was wrong. In fact, her attitude is much worse than it has ever been, and I don’t know why. She’s been a total nightmare lately and I’m starting to come unhinged.“Make sure my son has enough sunscreen on,” she orders aggressively. “I don’t want him coming home burned.”Even though her bad attitude is in full bloom, she somehow managed to pull herself together enough to shower and comb her hair. Unfortunately, she hasn’t let the wine go just yet. I know she’s not drunk, but I also know she’s not sober. If this goes on for much longer, I’ll be the one needing a drink just to calm my frazzled nerves.She has some nerve being so nasty to me. I’ve never come home from an outing with Andrew being burned anywhere. She doesn’t even know what his sunscreen looks like, and what’s with this “my