The third eye chakra is the sixth chakra in the body. It is located in the brain at the brow, above the top of the nose. In Sanskrit, it’s called Ajna. This chakra is considered the part of the body that can transcend time.

Positive. Plus sign. In the modern world, the addition symbol is literally positive. As in more.

More quantity.

More happiness.

The white stick with the pink plus symbol glaring at me evokes the exact opposite of more. Next to the plus is a second window with two lines—in dramatic opposition to the glaring addition symbol I so desperately want to be a subtract symbol.

A negative.

The two lines infuse everything with glaring, unavoidable clarity—and mean only one thing.

Pregnant.

I close my eyes, sigh, and lean back against the bathroom wall. It’s been three weeks since I laid eyes on him. Two weeks since I’d given up hope he’d call and explain himself. One week since I missed my cycle. Now here I am, knocked up with the product of a one-night stand. Only this isn’t just any one-night stand. We have mutual friends. Several of them. Of course, they have no idea we spent a drunken night of carnal delights with one another. No, they are none the wiser.

Technically, my friend Nick did ask how “drinks” went with his buddy. As usual, I played it off like it was just another night. Nothing special. Definitely nothing to talk about.

As if I would discuss the feel of his lips trailing down my neck.

The way his hands curved perfectly around my naked breasts.

Our endless worshipping of one another.

Except how can they all not know?

We couldn’t get enough of each other’s bodies. We were careful, using condoms every single time. Completely on top of it. Literally. Went through a half dozen of them throughout the night. But one round…the condom broke. At the time, it wasn’t a big deal. We were drunk as skunks and feeding on flesh and booze. It took a lot of meditation and thinking back through the haziness to even remember the incident, as inebriated as I was. By the time I recalled the slip, it was too late. The day-after pill wouldn’t have worked. I know—I asked the pharmacist. Three of them. At different locations. And my gynecologist.

Until this moment, I had been banking on my good luck. Except I’ve never been lucky. Not in love and not in life. At least not in my formative years. I started out in foster care and a girls’ home for orphaned kids, no family to speak of, until I was eight years old. Then out of nowhere, a round black woman with big cheeks, dark eyes, and an easy smile picked me out of a lineup of children in my age group to sit and talk with. I knew from the other kids, when one of us was pulled out and talked to, it could mean ending up in a home. It was all any of us ever wanted. Still, one of the scariest days of my life was meeting Darren and Vanessa Jackson.

Until now.

For a week, the Jacksons came back to the home to visit with me. I guess they were making sure we were a good fit. I clung to Mrs. Jackson during our visits. I’d always wanted a mother, someone to look at me with soft eyes and a smile. Once our week was up, the Jacksons both held my hands and asked me if I wanted to come home with them. Live with them. I couldn’t have known then it would be the best thing that ever happened to me.

I distinctly remember looking up into Mrs. Jackson’s eyes and then Mr. Jackson’s, trying to discern the significance of what was happening. All I could do in that moment was ask an awe-filled question.

“You want me?”

They assured me that, yes indeed, they very much wanted me to be their child. They took me to their expansive home in Berkeley, California, and showed me a room painted in a soft yellow with sunflowers scattered throughout. I was in heaven. Two human beings who wanted me, craved having me as their daughter. They worked, fought, and paid through the nose to adopt me officially. I had a family.

As I stare down at the three positive pregnancy tests, I cup my hand over my belly and cry. Big, heaping sobs. I’ve wanted nothing more in life than to be a baker and a mother just like my adopted mother, Vanessa Jackson. To show my child from the second it took its first breath I would always want her and do right by her—or him. Unlike my biological parents, I would want to give a child the love and family the Jacksons gave me.

And while the tears fall down my cheeks, I vow to my unborn child I will do exactly that. Regardless of whether or not Silas McKnight wants any part of his child’s life, I’ll be everything our child needs and more.

Positive.

Plus…one.

---

Three weeks earlier…

Harmony Jack’s is packed to the gills with bodies as I enter and push past a beefy, handsy fellow. Mentally, I chastise myself for my choice of attire, but the sparkly blue, micro-mini dress called to me. So the hem sits just below my ass…big deal. I work hard in the studio to keep my shit tight. Aside from my ba-donk-a-donk. It seems there is nothing I can do about the size of my ass. Squats, leg lifts, and an endless circuit of yoga poses with an emphasis on slimming the glutes does absolutely nothing but make my bum higher and tighter. I’ve since given up on trying to slim it down and now focus on flaunting the hell out of it. If a man doesn’t want tits and ass, they can get to steppin’. Ain’t nobody got time for that noise.

I see my crew at the back of the bar. They look like they are hugging Honor, Nick’s woman, for some reason. As I wiggle my way through the dancers and partygoers, I see Nick and wave. He pulls me into a hug. I turn around and snuggle Dash and his wife, Amber, and then Atlas before Nick hooks his arm with mine and leads me toward where Honor is standing next to a fine-as-fuck black man. His mocha-colored skin positively gleams under the flashing lights of the bar as I give him the once-over. He’s dressed to impress: black slacks, a royal-blue dress shirt tucked in, with a thin leather belt around his trim waist. I can tell by the V shape of his upper body he’s likely packing some seriously tight muscles under those threads. When I make my way up his form and my gaze lands on his face, his bright smile positively blinds me.

“Lordy…” I whisper under my breath as Honor leans into the fine man’s space and says something I can’t hear.

Still, I watch as he nods and does his once-over of my body, from my spiked silver heels up my bare legs to my cleavage-bearing chest, before landing on my face. He licks his lips and bites the bottom one. I’m positive my panties have dampened from one damn perusal.

I lift my hand to push my suddenly heavy locks off my neck so I can get a little air on my overly heated skin.

“Hey, babe, you know Dara Jackson from Lotus House.” Nick lets me go and loops his arm around Honor.

She smiles softly and glances at me. “I do. Good to see you again.”

I glance at Nick and note his rather possessive hold on the blonde and can’t help but offer encouragement. I want to see my friend settled and happy. Honor seems to give him that. And I know for a fact she needs him. Shy, sweet, and naïve. Plus, her aura is starting to shimmer with a glowing pink, meaning these two are about to have some serious fun!

“Glad you scooped up your man. I’m sure there are yogis everywhere crying into their soy chai latte over the resident hottie being off the market.” I laugh and wink at Nick.

“Absolutely off the market,” Nick confirms and then curves his head toward Honor’s and kisses her. “We’re living together now too,” he says with pride and another peck of his woman’s mouth.

I sigh. I love seeing Nick so taken with this woman. It gives me hope the right man is out there for me too. Not that I’ve had a good one yet.

The man standing next to Honor clears his throat, reminding me of his presence. Not that I could forget. He’s ridiculously attractive, and his light eyes have not left me since I arrived. Hell, I could feel those hazel gems running all over me while I greeted my friends a few minutes ago. Now, it’s no different. He’s not even trying to act cool. Confidence. I like that in a man. Almost as much as I like a body that won’t quit and a smile that could melt the panties off any sista in here.

“Righteous.” I grin at Nick before turning my attention lazily to hot stuff. “And who is this tall, dark drink of heaven?” I extend my hand.

He takes hold of my hand. The instant our palms touch, a sizzle of magnetism starts my hand chakras spinning in the opposite direction, my body’s way of trying to pair instantly with his energy. Interesting. More interesting is when he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. I swoon in my spiked heels, nearly falling over, but his tight grip won’t allow that, and I sway toward him.

“I’m Silas McKnight. I work with Atlas.” He gestures over to our friends behind me.

Right then, Atlas claps Silas on the back. “Don’t let him fool you, Dara. He’s my boss. The dude is rich, available, and a hard worker.” He clocks Silas on the arm. “Don’t say I never did nuthin’ for ya, buddy, but I’ve got to get home. Mila says Aria is awake with a fever and calling for her daddy. My girls call, I’m out. Bye, guys. Great job tonight, Honor. Really killer voice. Hope to hear it again soon.”

I frown. Honor sang? I would have liked to see and hear that side of the sweet woman.

Silas ruffles Atlas’s hair, making me smile. There’s a brotherhood there. If Atlas let Silas touch him in such a casual and friendly manner, he must be well-liked. “Catch ya Monday. Don’t be late…again!” Silas warns, and Atlas chuckles, lifts a hand above his head, and waves as he exits. Dash and Amber are quick to follow.

“We’ve, um, got plans tomorrow. We should, uh…” Amber twists her lips in a pensive gesture, but her aura is spiking red-hot, readying for a romp with our resident Tantric yoga teacher who also happens to be her husband.

Dash chuckles and hooks her around the waist. “I promised my wife a handful of orgasms tonight,” he says with absolutely no concern for decency or etiquette. Such an endearing quality in my friend. “It’s been a long week for her.” He nods to his wife. “Means we’re headed out.”

Amber widens her eyes to the size of dinner plates. “My goodness. I can’t believe you just said that! Dash!” She smacks his arm with righteous indignation.

He nuzzles her temple. “Little bird, everyone here tonight is going to go home and fuck like rabbits. We’re no different. Am I right?” he asks our group. I’m not touching that statement with a ten-foot pole, because it has been too damn long for me. My dry spell is closing in on ten months, and I need to get me some. I glance up at Mr. Tall, Black, and Handsome, assessing my chances of a sexy romp with a stranger. It’s not the first time—although, I don’t make a habit of sharing my body without strings attached—but something about this man has me squeezing my thighs and fanning my face. I’d like so very much to take a bite right out of him. Plus, he must be solid if my friends like him so much.

Nick coughs into his hand. “I’m hitting my girl for sure.” He twists his head so his lips rest against Honor’s ear where he whispers something I can’t hear in the overly loud bar.

“Yes, please,” Honor murmurs, and her pink energy starts changing to the same bright red Amber’s was a moment ago. Nick, on the other hand, is a straight fireball of energy. Always is. Everything he does is accomplished with a thirst for life and an unmatched exuberance.

“I think we all need to head home.” Nick sets down his beer and grabs his girl’s glass, adding it to the ones on the table.

“Guys, I just got here!” I offer my best pout, knowing it’s going to be useless with this much sexual energy bouncing between my two friends.

That’s when Silas offers his hand. “I’m happy to keep you company.” He grins, and I place my hand into his once more. Again, the hand chakras start buzzing. I briefly wonder if he can feel it. “Come on.” He leads me over to a quieter area with a hand to my lower back. I glance over my shoulder and realize all of my friends have left me high and dry.

Brats. Really, I can’t blame them, and at least I get a hottie out of the exchange.

Silas offers me a corner booth seat. I grab the hem of my micro skirt and sit down, situating my legs so they don’t show too much but leave very little to the imagination. His gaze takes in my bare thigh as he settles into the booth next to me, sitting so close, our knees touch.

“You work with Atlas?” I start off the conversation, wanting to get the basics out of the way. It’s not as though I want to jump him straight away…but I kind of want to get to the good part a lot faster. Figure out if he’s a psycho or not before I jump his bones.

He lifts a hand up and flicks his fingers at the bartender. Within what feels like seconds, she comes over with a glass of champagne, which he hands to me, and a full pint glass for him.

“Sorry, the women were all having champagne earlier, and I figured you looked a little parched. Champagne okay?” he asks. His voice is a low rumble, which sends my earlier arousal from a five out of ten to a nine out of ten.

“Uh, yeah. Never heard of anyone turning down the bubbly before.” I take a sip, allowing the sweet taste to permeate my dry mouth.

He sips his beer and then licks his upper lip. I’m instantly fascinated by the small movement, wanting so much to lick that same lip myself but knowing it’s far too aggressive at this stage of the evening.

“Ah, back to your question. Atlas and I work together, yes.” He leans back into the booth.

“He said you were his boss.”

He nods. “True. Really we’re all part of a big team at Knight & Day Productions.”

I smile. “You own the company, don’t you?” I cock an eyebrow, waiting to see if he’ll start to boast and fall all over himself telling me how amazing he is, how much money he makes, blah blah, like every other successful man I’ve dated in the past.

Silas lifts his hand and rubs at his bottom lip with his thumb before glancing away momentarily. “Guilty. But only because my father retired and I’m the eldest son. Couple of my siblings work the business too. Then we’ve got incredible talent like Atlas Powers. He and the team as a whole are why we’re so successful.”

Now that response I did not expect. To downplay his status in the company…

I shake my head and smile into my drink as I take a sip.

“Tell me about you.”

I swallow the rest of my bubbly before answering. “For that, we’re going to need a bit more alcohol. As in shots.”

His eyebrows rise nearly into his hairline. “Shots?”

“Yep.”

Silas leans closer, placing his arm on the back of the booth so his face is near enough for me to hear him whisper into my ear, even over the boisterous chatter and music. “You planning to get me drunk and take advantage of me, Ms. Jackson?”

Feeling bold and brave, I turn my head so our cheeks are touching, and I know he can catch a long whiff of my perfume. I lift my hand and link it around his neck, holding him in place.

“You can’t take advantage of the willing, Mr. McKnight.”

His body trembles as I scratch my nails lightly along the back of his neck.

“No, I guess not. You offerin’ up a night of bliss?”

I grin against his cheek and use my patented sexy lilt, the tone that usually gets me what I want with the opposite sex. And right now, it’s a hot night with one Silas McKnight. “Order up the shots and we’ll find out.”

“Anything you say, my queen.”

---

I’m floating, lost in the plane between pleasure and then pain, as my back slams against a picture frame. We didn’t make it three feet into his home before we were attacking one another. Silas’s lips are on mine, his hands gliding along my thighs. He hikes my dress up to my waist and hoists me up until my bare ass hits cold, lacquered wood. I flail my arms out, knocking over a vase. It crashes to the floor, but he doesn’t stop kissing me. I lock my legs around his trim waist and grip his shoulders like my life depends on it. He maneuvers his hand in between our bodies until he’s cupping me possessively. A whimper slips past my lips, and he grins, running his mouth along my neck, sucking the parts that particularly interest him.

It all interests me. I’m so gone for this man. Drunk as a skunk and feeling damn fine, every kiss and touch making the evening even better.

I lift my legs, allowing my stilettos to drop to the floor before I dig my heels into his backside. “Please,” I beg. The festivities haven’t even started yet, and I’m already begging.

Hussy, I think to myself but can’t find the wherewithal in my drunken mind to care. All I care about is getting this man naked and him pounding me into oblivion.

“Jeez-us woman! So damn wet.” He moans, feeling me up with his talented fingers. “No underwear, baby girl. You trying to drive me out of my mind?” He licks a path between my breasts. “Shit. I’m going in,” he warns before he sinks two long fingers inside me.

I arch my back and press against him, wanting more. “Deep.” I gasp, bracing my hands on the flat surface and curling my fingers around the edge of what I think is a side table near the entryway.

“My queen wants it deeper, I give her deeper.” He urges my legs wider, tips his head back, and watches as he presses those digits in as far as they can go. Then he blesses me with a thumb roll over my clit.

I cry out and start to pant, my eyes rolling, my head falling back against the picture or mirror or whatever it is behind me as he expertly works his fingers inside.

“You are so beautiful. Laid open, offering up your beauty. I’m going to watch you come all over my fingers, and then I’m going to get on my knees and lick you all up and down.”

He thrusts in and out at a faster rate, my body reacting to every filthy promise. A litany of incoherent words spill from my lips as I climb to the pinnacle of my pleasure. I lock my internal muscles around his fingers and cry out in ecstasy. Wanting a deeper connection, I tug the back of his neck, forcing our mouths to crash together in a hot, wet kiss.

“Can’t wait to feel that when I’m inside you, Dara. Now ride the feelin’, babe. Take yourself there while I watch you fall apart.”

I raise my hands and lock my fingers around his biceps. “Don’t stop,” I demand. As my arousal hits the peak, everything within me tightens, and I fall over the edge into nothing but pure heaven. He continues his pace for a long time, making sure every last wave of my release is gone before he pulls his fingers out of me and grips my hips, his lips falling to mine.

Silas is panting almost as heavily as I am as I come back down. I can feel his sizable length pressed against my thigh. With a renewed surge of energy from my free-fall, I slide my hand down his hard chest to his waist and below, where I palm his erection. Thank the good Lord above—he’s a big boy!

He grips my wrists and locks my hands to his chest. “Woman, I thought I told you the plan.”

I blink stupidly and purse my lips, trying to figure out what he’s talking about. I got mine and am damn ready to return the favor.

And then he floors me and starts my heart going to a jungle beat as he lowers before me. He lets my hands go and locks his to my knees, where he spreads me wide, this time with his face at eye level with my throbbing center. I squirm and attempt to close my legs, my body heating beyond what is a normal temp.

“Silas…” I attempt as he shakes his head but doesn’t speak a word.

His eyes are a pale hazel but not quite. More like a startling green amethyst. People say my eyes are haunting, being an aquamarine color with my caramel-colored skin, but his are ethereal. Even more so now as his gaze shifts from mine to between my legs. His nostrils flare and he inhales.

“You smell sweet and earthy at the same time.” Instead of going straight for gold, he turns his head to my inner thigh and inhales deeply. “Like coconuts and trees.” He runs his nose along my thigh until he reaches my wetness. He closes his eyes briefly before opening them and glancing up at me one last time. “And sex. Let’s see if we can’t make that last one a bit more potent.” He grins devilishly before licking straight up my seam with the flat of his tongue.

My hands fly to his head as if they were separate from my body. “Oh, my God!” I cry out when he swirls his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves and flicks it repeatedly, driving me crazy. Swirling my hips, I lose track of time, focused only on the warm, wet heat of his tongue, the grip of his hands on my thighs, and the incredible feeling of being worshipped by this man.

Soon, I’m gyrating against his face, gripping his head and forcing him to give me more pressure. He growls his appreciation, and before too long, he’s got my ass in both hands, his face plastered between my thighs, and his tongue driving deep.

I ride the wave as my second orgasm of the night crashes over me, hot and heavy. He moans, licking up every ounce of my release.

“Jesus, you’re a prince!” A cunnilingus god is more like it, but I don’t want to stroke his ego too much. The brotha might get a big head. Not that he wouldn’t have earned it. Sweet Jesus.

As he brings me down, he stands up abruptly, pulls his wallet out of his pants, and fingers a foil packet. “Not gonna wait, baby girl. After tasting heaven, I need to get inside.” He rips the packet with his teeth while I make quick work of his belt, unzipping his pants enough to see the tip of his cock poking out of his black silk boxers.

“Sweet man, you’re a big one.” I shimmy his pants and boxers down far enough that his considerable length springs free.

He wraps his dick, making a show out of rolling the condom on. My mouth waters, imagining wrapping something else around those hard inches. His gaze shoots to mine as I lick my lips, practically panting with desire.

Silas grins, and his eyes darken. “We’ll have more time for that later. Don’t you worry.” He lines up his cock to my center, dips his hips, and eases the crown inside.

Holy shit! Just the tip is in and he’s stretching me.

“Damn, baby, you are tight.” His voice strains on the last word, and he blows out a breath. Easing in and out on slow strokes, he takes his time. Once he’s wedged to the hilt, we both let out a long, drawn-out breath. I roll my shoulders and cringe at the discomfort of being propped against a piece of furniture for two big Os.

Silas must have read my mind when he says, “Need you in my bed. Hold on.” He wraps his arms around my back, keeping one on my ass, holding us smashed together. The second I’m in his arms, I fall farther onto his cock. Speared and in motion. My mind swirls with the pleasure and pain of each of his steps as he makes his way down a hall. Then he’s leaning over me and laying me on a cloud of red. A crimson comforter greets me when I turn my head to the side to capture my surroundings. And then it all just disappears into darkness when Silas, who’s standing at the edge of the bed, grips my hips, retreats from my passage, and then slams back home.

“Jeez-us, woman. You’ll break my dick with that grip!” he barks. “I fuckin’ love it!”

For the next several hours, we fuck in his bed, on the floor, in his shower, in his kitchen, and in between more rounds of shots extricated from his liquor cabinet.

Never in my life have I had such a life-changing experience…until I wake up close to dawn, cuddled up to his side, so thirsty I think I’ll die. I crawl out of bed and make my way into his kitchen to search his cabinets before finding a glass, turning on the tap, and glugging down two full glasses before I stop midgulp and take in the space. The room is strange. Not the normal bachelor pad. This is a home. A real home. Something a man and a woman share together.

The more I look, the more freaked out I become. Until I walk over to the mantle and see all of the pictures displayed proudly there. Silas with a beautiful blonde. Years’ worth of pictures scattered all around the living room, dining area, and kitchen.

The fire in my gut, telling me to run, gets worse as I make my way down the hallway toward his bedroom and spy two doors that are unopened. One is a bathroom. The other…a fucking nursery. Pink. Butterflies everywhere.

Silas McKnight has a family.

Fuck my life.