Calloused fingers grabbed my wrists and hoisted them above my head as he continued to drive into me. The rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the drywall of his bedroom was the only thing--besides the thick hand wrapped loosely around my throat--anchoring me in reality as Ryan Morris sexed me into the next dimension.

Had I known that the sex would be this good, I would have never run away from him as many times as I had over the past few months. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have stayed in that god-awful relationship with that useless fucktard of an ex-boyfriend for as long as I had. Five years of my life had been wasted on empty promises, no commitment, and mediocre sex when I could have been enjoying this toe-curling, earth-shattering, mind-numbing bliss.

What a fool I’d been.

“Say it, darlin’. Say you’re mine,” Ryan panted from above me as he rolled his hips into me again.

A strangled cry escaped my throat as he hit my g-spot again. I was close.

Releasing his grip on my wrists, Ryan delivered a hard slap to my clit, before driving into me harder than ever before.  I shrieked again as stars danced across my vision.

“Say. It.”

My voice came out much raspier than I expected as I struggled to talk amidst the waves of pleasure racking my body. “I’m yours.”

“And you’re never running away from me again, are you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No,”

“Good girl” he purred before thrusting into me one last time before my orgasm slammed through me like a freight train.

Arching my back high off the bed, I let out a loud moan at the overwhelming sensation. Ryan continued, to slam into me, chasing his own release before spilling his seed into my weeping core. Gasping, he pressed my rigid body against the rock hard planes of his chest, before peppering wet kisses across my face and neck.

Yes, I was Ryan Morris’ girl alright and guessing by the way he was sucking and nipping at my neck, he wouldn’t be letting me forget it any time soon either.

Perched delicately on the edge of the steel, ladder-back chair, Pressley Hamilton let her gaze sweep over the man seated before her at the back of the bustling coffee shop. To the untrained eye, she was the perfect picture of inner peace and effortless grace. In truth, a storm was brewing inside her--the negative emotions zipping around in her chest like firecrackers on the Fourth of July as her stomach bubbled and fizzed with unease.

No one had said that heartbreak would feel like this--like a million and one needles stabbing at her chest all at once. Or that her lungs would feel too heavy and weak to even gasp for the teensiest bit of air. With every word he had spoken, Pressley had felt her heart crumble and break. But of course, Terrell was none the wiser, courtesy of the cool mask of nonchalance Pressley had erected the moment he’d sat her down at the small table in the back.

“I’ve met someone else,” Terrell had said, shooting her a pitying smile. He’d then reached his hand out between them and placed it over her clenched fist, ignoring the withering stare she’d been shooting him. “But I want you to know that you did nothing wrong.”

She wanted to bash his face in.

Five years she’d wasted on this sorry ass negro, with his lack of ambition and unwavering complacency. When they’d met, he’d been in his last year of business school while she’d just entered her first semester. Now she was two years out with an MBA and her own business--the coffee shop he was so tastelessly dumping her in--while he was still ‘finishing’ his last couple of classes while she supported the two of them financially.

In all actuality, she hadn’t really minded supporting them both. In fact, up until 8:30 a.m. when the unfortunate morning had begun, Pressley Hamilton had wholeheartedly subscribed to the belief that one only got out of a relationship what they were willing to put in. You reap what you sow, and all that junk.

If she wanted the undying love, support, and commitment from Terrell, then she too had to provide unwavering support and affection. Sure it wasn’t easy, but nothing in life was and that was okay because she loved Terrell. And he loved her too..up until an hour ago.

Letting her eyes roam over his smooth caramel skin, loose 3B curls, and plump lips, she couldn’t help but wonder how she had allowed herself to be used for so long.   

In typical Terrell fashion, Pressley’s ex soldiered on, choosing to continue his unremarkable breakup speech despite the anger growing and bubbling inside Pressley as she glowered at him from across the table

“I want us to still be friends though, P,” he said earnestly, his ochre-colored eyes softly boring into hers. His hand gave her another reassuring squeeze. “You’ve been great but Melody--”

Pressley reared her head back, as though Terrell had suddenly reached out and slapped across the face.

Well, at least that’s how it felt.

Pushing away from the table, she quickly scrambled to her feet, ignoring the loud groans of the metal chair as it slid unevenly against the tiled floors. An accusatory finger found its way into Terrell’s face as Pressley ignored the urge to end his life for the second time that morning.

“You’re leaving me for my cousin?!” she screeched incredulously, her ample bosom heaving with the heavy breaths of her barely-contained rage.

Terrell let out a nervous chuckle as his eyes flitted across the faces of the startled patrons inside Morning Brew. “Step-cousin,” he clarified. “And it’s not like we planned for this to happen. We just...fell in love,” he finished with a brilliant smile.

Pressley felt her stomach lurch as the taste of bile settled on her tongue.

“How long have you been fucking her?” she bit out, attempting to reign in her anger so she didn’t scare any more paying customers.

Terrell had the decency to look shocked at the accusation as his mouth flapped open and closed like fish gasping for water. His smooth caramel skin flushed bright red before he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Pressley, I would never--”

“Save it,” she said, lifting a hand and cutting him off for the second time that day. “Let’s not pretend like you haven’t been fucking my cousin for god-knows-how-long while I’ve been breaking my neck to keep a roof over our heads,” she hissed.

Terrell opened his mouth again to refute her but something in Pressley’s eyes must have suggested otherwise, and he quickly shut it.

“If you want to be with Melody, I’m not going to stop you. But don’t come crawling back to me when she realizes just how useless you are. You have twenty-four hours to get your shit out of my apartment before I change the locks,” she finished before whirling around on her heels and stalking back to the front of the shop.

The sensation of a hand wrapping around her bicep stopped her in her tracks as Terrell forcefully yanked her back around to face him.

His face was red again, this time with anger, as he attempted to lay into Pressley. “Who are you calling useless? I’ve supported your ungrateful ass for the past five years while you chased your dream of opening this damn coffee shop!” he fumed, his light eyes gleaming with baseless anger.

In that the moment, Pressley Hamilton had never been happier to know that she’d been cheated on. Sure it hurt to be betrayed by two people so close to her, but as she looked at her now ex-boyfriend, she realized how much she was actually gaining by things ending between her and Terrell; things like her freedom, her sanity, and her future, now untethered to the sinking ship that was Terrell Johnson.

Prying his fingers from her arm, Pressley took a step closer to him to make sure no one else would hear what she had to say. “You didn’t give me a red cent, Terrell. The only support you gave me was crap sex and--as of five minutes ago--the ability to see you for who you really are. Now leave before you embarrass yourself.” With that, Pressley turned back around and continued her way back to the front counter to attend to the next waiting customer.

It wasn’t until Terrell finally tore his infuriated glare from the side of her face and stomped out of the coffee shop that she finally released the breath she hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding.

-O-

Twirling the phone cord around her finger, Pressley listened as her mother and sister prattled off the reasons why she was better off without that ‘no-good, unmannered, freeloader’--Carol Hamilton’s words, not Pressley’s.

When Moira, her manager, had sauntered into her office at noon to inform her about the phone call waiting on her up front, she’d expected it to be one of her numerous suppliers calling her to give her news of her next shipment of coffee beans. It was reasonable enough, then for Pressley to be quite surprised to instead find herself the unsuspecting victim of a 3-way phone call ambush.

Gosh if she didn’t feel like Cady Heron right now as her mother (aka Gretchen Wieners) and her sister (Karen Smith) listed off all the reasons why she’d been foolish to stay in her former relationship.

Word traveled too fast in this town.

“What kind of a man just lets his girlfriend--not even his fiance, though I really doubt he could’ve even afforded a ring if it didn’t come outta’ one of them cereal boxes--take care of him for five years without even trying to make something of himself? Huh?” Carol Hamilton spat, followed by an “mhm” from Pressley’s sister Ruby. “A no good bottom-feeder, that’s who! I tell you, Pressley Anne, I don’t know why I let you stay with that man--”

“Mama!” Pressley finally bit out, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Her mother and sister had been laying into her for fifteen minutes now and she had finally reached her breaking point. “I understand what you’re saying--I do--but as I said, there’s nothing I can do about it now except try to move on with my life. Terrell sure as hell is.”

It was true. While Pressley had immediately blocked her ex-boyfriend on all social media accounts, she had decided to remained friends with and follow her traitorous cousin Melody. A mere hour after Terrell had stormed out of her coffee shop, Melody had changed her status to ‘in a relationship’ on all her accounts as well as changed her profile picture to a nauseating image of herself and Terrell engaged in a fierce liplock.

If Pressley was being honest with herself, the brazen display of affection had felt like a sucker punch to the gut and made tears cloud her vision. How could it not? Even if she wasn’t all that close to Melody, she was still family. What they’d done was wrong--plain and simple--and Pressley deserved to be just as hurt and angry as she wanted to be.

But she also had a business to run, and Pressley Anne Hamilton would be damned if she let that hussy and her newly acquired fuckboy mess that up for her. Which why after crying it out for a couple of minutes, Pressley had dabbed her tears away, swiped on another coat of mascara, and gotten back to work--until her mother called, that is.

“Say the word Annie, and I can come pick you up and we can pay Melody a nice little visit. I’ve still got my conceal-carry,” Ruby said, her voice low and sinister.

Pressley choked on her breath. “Ruby no!” she shouted into the phone. Glancing around, she caught the eyes of several startled patrons as they waited to place their orders at the til. Shooting a quick, apologetic smile, Pressley whirled around and brought the receiver closer to her lips.

“We are not shooting anyone, Ruby,” Pressley hissed. “Look, what Melody wants to do is her prerogative, but we are not starting World War III over Terrell’s dumb ass.” She paused. “Wait, I thought they revoked your permit after you tried to shoot your neighbor last year?”

Pressley listened as Ruby sucked her teeth. “Me and Mrs. Henderson came to an...understanding about that and she dropped the charges.”

Pressley shook her head. She didn’t even want to know what that meant. “Whatever, just promise me...no guns.”

Carol laughed as Ruby sucked her teeth again. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Thank you,” Pressly breathed into the phone, thankful she’d managed to pacify her bloodthirsty younger sister. “Things are getting a little busy here at the shop so I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

She was met with grumbles of “yeah you better” and “sure thing” before ending the phone call. Pressley hung the phone back on the hook before turning back around to head to her office and finish up some paperwork.

Weaving in between the patrons, Pressley didn’t realize her misstep until it was too late. Slipping on the wet surface of the checkered tiling--courtesy of the hot coffee that had just been spilled moments prior--Pressley found herself advancing towards the hard ground at an alarming speed. Before her face could get acquainted with the lovely linoleum flooring, however, Pressley felt herself being lifted and slammed back against a hard, firm chest.

“You alright there, darlin’?” a deep voice rumbled above her.

Pressley fought back the urge to moan as she felt the stranger’s deep timbre vibrate against her back through the fabric of her yellow, cotton sundress.

Like warm chocolate, the stranger’s voice poured over Pressley in a way that had her squeezing her too-thick thighs together beneath the wide skirt of her dress. Her toes curled inside her nude pumps and she fought back the urge to moan out loud.

Get it together, you wanton hussy, she thought to herself.

Quickly composing herself, Pressley smoothed down the imaginary wrinkles in her dress before opening her mouth and turning to offer her words of gratitude to the kind stranger for rescuing her from a most unfortunate and mortifying social demise. All the words she had planned to say soon escaped her, however, as her eyes landed on the Goliath that stood before her. Eyes widening in recognition, Pressley felt her mouth dry up faster than the Sahara as she gazed, flabbergasted, at one Ryan Andrew Morris.

Clear blue eyes gleamed as his full lips spread wide into a shit-eating grin. “Fancy seeing you here,” he drawled.

Sitting on the cracked, red pleather booth seat, Pressley lazily stabbed at her eggs, her mind a million miles away from the bustling diner her body was presently stationed in. As much as she hated to admit it, seeing Ryan Morris on Tuesday had shaken her to her core.

Right after catching her, he had blinked his long lashes in her face and carried on as though the past ten years hadn’t happened.

“How you doin’?” he’d asked in his deep timbre.

Her eye had twitched as she fought to restrain herself from spewing the expletives that immediately flooded her mind the moment she had realized that it was indeed him, that was stood erect and palpable in her line of sight. “What are you doing here?” she asked instead, incapable of holding back the sharpness in her voice.

Amused by her obvious irritation, Ryan smiled. “Well,” he said taking a sip from the coffee cup she hadn’t noticed before, “I heard that this was the place to go if I wanted a good cup of coffee,” he finished with a brilliant smile.

Pressley snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well now that you’ve had your coffee, you can go.”

If possible, his smile got even brighter, his eyes seeming to sparkle under the fluorescent lighting.  “Actually, I’m back in town for the rest of the summer.”

Pressley inhaled sharply at the devastating news. “What?!” she all but screeched.

Ryan chuckled sexily as he stuffed a hand into the pocket of his navy blue slacks. A soft dimple appeared on his cheek and Pressley suddenly found herself clenching her thighs together with lust.

Whoa, what the fuck? This was Ryan Morris--the skeeziest, most entitled bastard this side of the moon and certified bane of her existence. He was not sexy, he was evil!

“My company is looking to relocate here,” he said, snapping Pressley out of her reverie.

“What?” she asked stupidly.

He laughed again and Presley internally groaned as she felt her panties dampen. “My company,” he said slowly so as to ensure she could understand him. “Is looking at Avonlea as its new headquarters.”

“I’m not slow in the head Ryan Morris so you don't have to talk to me like I am,” Pressley snapped.

Raising his hands up in a defensive gesture, Ryan smirked. “Hey, I’m just trying to help you out. Seemed like you were havin’ a bit of trouble understanding me.”

Pressley scowled at him. “How considerate of you.”

He shrugged. “Eh, just doing my civic duty.” He then slowly raked his icy blue gaze down her body, pausing appreciatively over her breasts and thighs and causing her body to instantly burn with want. A strangled gasp caught in her throat when he finally lifted his eyes to hers, nailing her to the spot with his cornflower colored gaze. “You look good, Pressley,” he said slowly.

Pressley opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out--her brain fried from what had transpired within the past thirty seconds.

This was wrong. All wrong. Ryan Morris was not supposed to set her lady bits a flame and have her ready to spread her legs wide to accommodate his tapered hips. Nor, was he supposed to be seductively licking his lips at her as he eye fucked her in the middle of her own damn coffee shop.

She needed to get out of there and fast before she did something she would regret.

Before she could make a fast getaway, however, Ryan began moving closer, a soft smirk spread across his lips. When he was close enough to lick--er, touch--he stopped. His warm breath fanned across her lips, making her nipples harden beneath the soft padding of her bra. God bless for padding.

“I’ll be seeing you,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion.

Backing up slightly, he flashed her another panty-dropping smile and made his way out of the coffee shop, leaving one very horny and annoyed Pressley Hamilton behind.

Since then, Pressley had been doing everything her in her power to make sure that Ryan did not stay true to his word. For the past four days, she had been skulking around the coffee shop, refusing to leave her office except for bathroom breaks or to go back to the comfort (and safety) of her apartment.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of him per se, but after having spent the past ten years of her life hating him and then suddenly being unable to think of him without fantasizing about him ripping off her clothes and ravishing her body, Pressley’s newfound attraction to Ryan was certainly troubling to say the least. Besides, she was sure that having such thoughts so soon after her break up with Terrell wasn’t healthy. She had been with the man for five years for Pete's sake--she was supposed to mourn for at least a week or two--yet she genuinely couldn’t give a single fuck about the breakup, Terrell or Melody. Instead, visions of Ryan danced in her head like a raunchy late night porno on Cinemax.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Pressley angrily stabbed at her now cold eggs.

-O-

Seated across from Pressley in the small-town diner, Ruby Hamilton and Leigh Anne Booker watched over the rims of their coffee mugs as Pressley literally attacked her breakfast. Sharing a look of concern with Ruby, Leigh noisely set her mug down on the plastic table in front of them, jarring Pressley from her thoughts.

Startled, Pressley lifted her gaze to meet the young blonde’s wide emerald gaze. “What?” she snapped.

Leigh let a small comforting smile slide across her lips as she leaned in, her voice soft and soothing. “How ya feelin’ hun?”

Pressley furrowed her brow at the question. “I’m fine.” She watched then as Leigh shot another glance over at Ruby, the two of them sharing a meaningful look before Ruby sat up in her seat.

Pushing her plate out of the way, her sister leaned in closer to the table. “Look, I’m just gonna cut right to the chase.” Ignoring the confused and slightly panicked look on Pressley's face, Ruby continued, “We know Ryan is back in town--”

“And,” Leigh said, jumping in “Combined with him dumping you the other day, we know that you’re going through a lot right now.”

Pressley pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair as she gazed at her sister and closest friend. Was this supposed to be some intervention? A pulse-check to make sure she wasn’t so consumed with grief that she didn’t jump off the deep end. Little did they know, she was feeling anything but grief.

“This isn’t an intervention or anything though,” Leigh Anne added after Pressley didn’t say anything.

“The hell it ain’t!” Ruby exclaimed, staring incredulously at the blonde woman seated beside her. “Pressley, this is the first time either one of us has seen you since Terrell broke up with you and Ryan Morris came back.”

Ruby’s words had Pressley flinching while Leigh Anne gasped audibly.

“We said we wouldn’t say his name,” Leigh Anne hissed through clenched teeth, obviously alluding to Terrell.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “He ain’t fuckin’ Voldemort,” she spat. “Pressley Anne, you need to get yourself together and stop hiding out in your apartment like some damn recluse.”

Caught, Pressley scoffed to save face. Even if she was hiding, that didn’t mean they could just call her out on it. Besides, hiding wasn’t the proper word. She was not hiding; she was making calculated decisions about when to leave her home.  When she told her sister as much, Ruby rolled her eyes.

“That’s literally the definition of hiding,” her sister deadpanned.

Sensing that the conversation was going nowhere with Ruby at the helm, Leigh Anne grabbed Pressley’s hand which still laid on the table. “We care about you honey, honest, and we just want to make sure that you are dealing with this in a healthy way.”

Forcing a reassuring smile onto her face, Pressley attempted to assuage her sister and friend’s doubts. “I am processing this in a healthy way. What Terrell and I had truly ended years ago--we were just holding on because it felt normal. I promise you that I am perfectly fine.”

To prove her point, she dipped her fork into the home fries--the only thing on her plate that hadn’t been destroyed due to her mini rage out--before bringing the potatoes to her mouth. She would have actually put the food into her mouth if it weren’t for the fact that Ryan Morris was seated across the other side of Libby’s Diner staring her down and making all her naughty thoughts bubble back up to the surface.

Pressley felt heat rush to her face as she quickly dropped her fork back down to her plate, the clattering sound startling her.

Leigh whipped her head around to see who or what had spooked Pressley so bad.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ruby asked, a frown settling across her face. “You’re making a mess!”

Wide-eyed, Pressley looked down to see bits of egg and potato spattered onto the table in front of her. “S-sorry,” she stuttered grabbing her napkin to clean it up.

“P,” Leigh asked, her head still slightly turned towards the back of the diner. “Why is Ryan Morris comin’ over here?”

Immediately, Pressley’s head shot back up, eyes wide and fearful as she watched him saunter over to their side of the restaurant. Taking the opportunity to look him over, Pressley watched slack-jawed as his lean legs, topped by powerful thighs quickly ate up the linoleum tilling separating them. Clad in a pair of light grey fitted dress pants, black oxfords, and a white button down the man looked delicious. His blonde hair had been styled away from his face in a nice coif, though an errant strand had decided to tangle tantalizingly above one cornflower blue orb. His plush pink lips were spread into a wide smile which only seemed to widen with every step he took.

When he finally arrived at the table, Pressley immediately dropped her head down to her plate and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she prayed hard enough, we would disappear. Ryan waited a beat as he stared at the back of Pressley’s head. Noticing that she had no intentions of opening her eyes nor raising her head, he cleared his throat. Still, the woman remained frozen in her seat, ignoring his presence. Instead, Ruby spoke up.

“How can we help you today, Cocksucker?” Leigh Anne choked while Ruby screwed her face up in contempt.

Instead of being angry, Ryan smiled, his eyes still focused on Pressley. “Welly Ruby, I just came over to check in on your sister. Last time we saw each other, she seemed a bit shaken up.”

Oh she had been shaken alright, Pressley thought to herself, and now she was moist. As much as she hated herself for it, she couldn’t deny how good the man smelled. Because he was standing so damn close, it was impossible to not catch a whiff of the fragrant cologne he was wearing--something sharp and clean with a touch of spice. She could smell him all day.

A sharp kick to her shin--courtesy of Leigh Anne--made Pressley yelp, the pain dragging her back to the present. She shot a quickly gare at her friend, before fixing her gaze on Ryan.

“What do you want,” she bit out.

Ryan shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The action caused the thick corded muscles in his arm to bulge deliciously.  Pressley gulped and licked her suddenly dry lips. “Like I said, I was just coming over to check in and see how you were doing.”

“She’s fine, thank you very much, so you can go now,” Ruby stated snotily.

Ryan lifted his eyes to look at the younger Hamilton sister and flashed her a smile. Unfazed, Ruby looked back at him unamused. “Are you ladies coming to the town hall Monday night?”

“Hell no!” Ruby shouted just as Leigh Anne offered a, “Maybe.”

Turning his attention to the ever silent Pressley, Ryan softened his voice. “Pressley?”

Rubbing her hands along jean-clad thighs, Pressley shrugged noncommittally. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Setting a hand on the table right in front of her, Ryan leaned in. “Well, I hope to see you there.” Giving her one last heated glance, he turned and left. Once he was gone, Pressley took in a shaky breath before snatching her long forgotten apple juice. She quickly drained the glass before slamming it back onto the table.

She needed something stronger.

Glancing back up at her friends, Pressley caught sight of the curious look settled across Leigh Anne’s face.

“Well I’ll be,” the blonde said softly before taking a sip of her coffee.