BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
SOME SUGAR
Curvy Women Wanted, 3
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
Hunter Graham was the biggest pig in the world, and Faith Bryant should know that. They shared the same apartment floor, and nearly every evening without fail, she had seen different women coming and going out of his apartment. He was a horrible excuse for a human being, and just because he was good-looking didn’t allow him to hurt women. Storming around her apartment, Faith was sick to her stomach. She had only just gotten back home and there had been a woman outside of his home, sniffling as she left. What Faith hated even more was that Hunter was also one of the sexiest men she had ever seen. Even as she disliked him, she hated that her body responded to him. She didn’t want to respond to him in any way, and it drove her crazy.
She had shared this floor with Hunter for the past year, and it had only been in the past month that she had encountered the crying women. It was probably because she had changed her hours, and so at five in the morning, she was getting home from a night at work.
Faith worked in a casino, and had found the pay was better if she worked nights rather than if she worked during the day. It wasn’t like she had a life anyway, so working nights for more money seemed like the way to go. Now, though, she was wishing that she had stayed completely oblivious to her neighbor’s shitty existence. All of her sexual fantasies were now ruined, and he had been recurring in them for a long time now, too long. She wasn’t a crazy stalker, but even she could see the potential in Hunter. The hard abs, muscles galore, and he seemed nice, but now she knew differently. Crying women, and she may have seen a crying man as well. Either way, what was wrong with being nice to a girl?
Putting away her few groceries, she took the salad that she had made herself before leaving for work, and sat at her table. Opening up her laptop, Faith checked the jobs section as she didn’t want to always work in a casino. She didn’t know what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. At twenty-eight years old, she had been in and out of jobs ever since she left high school. From the moment she could leave home, she hadn’t looked back. There was no way she was going to rely on anyone to help her. No college for her, so she had worked as a cleaner, an advisor, a waitress, and now she was working at a casino, waiting tables, and earning quite a decent living. She hated dealing with the drunks and the people that lost their money, but other than that, she had quite a good life.
She had a nice apartment in a nice neighborhood, and she could afford a few luxuries in life. Still, she was always on the lookout for what could come next. The economy over the past few months had taught her one thing and one thing only: nothing was ever stable or secure. She had to make her own security. She saved like crazy, and worked her ass off.
Scooping up some more of the quinoa, she was about to eat it when there was a knock at her door.
Glancing at the time she saw it was just after five-thirty. Getting up, she made her way toward her door, and stared through the peephole. There on the other side was a half-naked Hunter.
Crap. He was an asshole but he was a sexy one, and even though she refused to admire that, her body was a big fat betrayer. Her pussy grew slick at the sight of him, and that was through a distorted lens.
Opening the door a little, she kept the lock firmly in place.
“Hey,” he said. “I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar.”
He held up a pot, and she stared at him, and then the pot. His hands were so big, and she couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel like on her body.
Get a grip, Faith.
Closing her door, she slid the lock back, grabbed the pot, and went to her kitchen. Grabbing a spoon, she started to scoop out some sugar, all the while aware as he came into her apartment.
“So you don’t have any boyfriend waiting here?”
She frowned, turning toward him. “Why would you think I have a boyfriend?”
“You’re always coming home late. I didn’t know if you were staying at your guy’s place.”
“I work at night.”
“Oh … oh, is it like that?” he asked. His brows were raised, and she moved back toward him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” This was the most they had ever spoken, and right now it didn’t sound all that good.
“You’re a whore. It’s fine, I don’t judge.”
Faith’s mouth dropped open. She was in so much shock. “I’m not a whore. I work at a casino that’s open all night. Wow, you think I have men pay me for sex?” On the one hand, it was a compliment. He thought that a guy would pay her for sex. So sweet of him, and also humiliating.
“I had no idea. I clearly know how to put my foot in it, or my words. Crap. Let me make it up to you. Dinner.”
“Hell no. I’m not having dinner with you. Not a chance in hell. Wow, I can’t even begin to believe what is going on right now. Get the hell out of my apartment, now!”
She shoved him out of her apartment, and the moment the door was closed, she let out a sigh. How dare he!
****
Shit, he had really screwed up with that one. Hunter took his pot of sugar and made his way back toward his apartment. He really needed a cup of coffee. It had been a long night, and he was tired. Not that he wanted sugar. He enjoyed a sweet coffee, but he just couldn’t go another day without talking to his neighbor. Faith Bryant. He had been watching her for the past year, and she was an anomaly. He had tried to keep his desires to himself and ignore his very sexy, curvy neighbor, but that was even harder to do. Faith was curvy, sexy, and a mystery. He wanted her, and seeing as he was out of sugar, he figured it could be a good starting point. Screwing up, the dinner invitation had seemed like the best thing to offer. Of course she didn’t want that either. He had screwed up.
Way to go, Hunter. Calling her a whore.
He was so pissed off with himself, angry, and annoyed as fuck. He helped people with their lives at every turn, and yet he couldn’t get this woman to date him. Not only couldn’t he get this woman to date him, he couldn’t even get her to talk to him.
Being a life coach was a damn challenge at times and it certainly didn’t help him at times like these. He took specific clients who were hoping to get their life back on track. He would spend weeks with each client, helping them. First, he had to strip them down and take away all the crap that they had believed about themselves. He was a believer in doing and achieving. Once he removed that self-doubt, he would then help them build their confidence, giving them challenges to help them in life. He had just had Sarah, a particularly difficult client, leave, and she had been very emotional. She hadn’t been sad. They were happy tears. He hated it when women left his home crying, even if they did so in happiness. They would hug him and thank him. He hated tears but oh, well. Sarah was a happy client and asked for them to continue meeting once a week for the next few months until she was sure she was happy.
He wasn’t going to turn her down. Besides the fact she paid him for his help, he wanted to make sure she was living the life she always wanted.
Grabbing his jacket and keys, he left his apartment, staring at the door of his neighbor. No matter what, he couldn’t think for a second what he had ever done to his neighbor. There hadn’t been any parties, nor had he done anything stupid. In fact, he had been a good neighbor, even when some of his friends wanted him to party. When he realized the person living on the same floor as him was a woman, he didn’t even try to have parties, and instead kept his get-togethers quiet and simple.
The guys came over for game night, and he occasionally did movie night.
So why did she dislike him so much? He didn’t get it. Entering the nearest grocery store, he grabbed a little basket and started to fill it with fresh vegetables and fruit. It had been too long since he went shopping, and he wasn’t big on cooking, and did everything to avoid it. He even had the takeaway stores on speed dial. He was all work, and very little play.
His cell phone rang, and he saw it was Paul.
“Hey,” Hunter said.
“Did your latest whacko leave?” Paul asked.
“Don’t call them that. You know I don’t like it.”
“Whatever. People with confidence issues. It doesn’t matter. Is she gone?”
“My latest client is gone, and she’s making good progress.”
“Please, the only progress she wants to make is on your dick.”
There were times he wondered how he was still friends with Paul. The man didn’t know how to be modest or even sweet. It was all fucking, all day long. In fact, he was surprised that his friend hadn’t gone into being an escort, he loved fucking that much. Then again, Hunter loved sex, too. He loved fucking, and getting down and dirty with women. There was no room to be prim and proper in his bed. It had to be pure fucking.
“Not everyone is desperate for sex,” he said, glancing around the shop to make sure he wasn’t near anyone. The last thing he needed was to offend someone.
“Please, give me a break. Where are you?” Paul asked. “I’m outside your place, and clearly, you’re not here.”
“I needed to get a few things. My neighbor doesn’t like to share.”
“Which neighbor?”
“The one I share a floor with.”
“I’ve not seen her. Is she cute?”
Hunter thought about Paul fucking Faith, and he didn’t like the anger that consumed him at the thought.
“Stay away from her. She’s not worth playing with.”
“Oh, why not?”
“She’s a lesbian. You’ve got no chance of getting with her, and more chance of getting your dick sucked by me.”
“I always knew you wanted me, mate. Fine, fine, I’ll wait.” He heard some movement, and imagined Paul sitting his ass down on the floor near his door.
“Try not to get me kicked out of my place. I’ll be home in ten.” He disconnected the call and hurried toward the checkout.
He rushed toward his home, and was outside his apartment within eight minutes, only to find that Paul was nowhere to be seen. Entering his apartment, he called out Paul’s name, and again, nothing.
Frowning, he pulled out his cell phone, and dialed his number.
“Hey, man,” Paul said.
“I rushed back here, and you’re not.”
“Oh, I’m at Faith’s.”
Jealousy coursed through him.
“Hey, babe. Hunter is back, and I’m going to head out.”
Hunter went to his door, and watched as Paul opened Faith’s front door, and she was behind him. They were laughing and talking, and he didn’t like it.
“You know, those lemon-blueberry rolls are the bomb. I’m going to have to drop by to have another lick,” Paul said, leaning in a little too close for Hunter’s liking.
“What’s going on?” Hunter asked. He stared at Faith and saw the anger in her eyes as she looked at him.
“Your friend was all alone, so I invited him in.”
“He wouldn’t have been if you’d just let me borrow some sugar.”
“Why don’t you stop hurting women and start shopping for stuff you need?” She didn’t wait around for an answer, and slammed her door closed.
Growling, Hunter turned on his heel and began pacing.
“What the hell was that?” Paul asked.
“She hates me, and I don’t know why. I’ve been nothing but polite to her.”
“Oh, she thinks you’re banging women here, and breaking their hearts.”
Hunter paused. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. It seems she has seen one too many women coming and going, and all of them have the same thing in common. They are crying.”
Hunter thought about it, and then groaned. “Shit! Fuck! I was helping those women. It was a breakthrough, and I never, ever fuck a client. Never.”
Paul collapsed onto the sofa. “I take it Faith is off limits.”
“You don’t get to touch her.”
“Why is that?” Paul asked.
Hunter stared at his friend. “I don’t want you or any shit that you create falling on me. I’m already off to a shitty start, and I don’t need your help to make it worse.”
Paul grabbed a pillow. “Is that the only reason?”
“Shut up.”
“I think you want her, Hunter. I think you want to hunt her.”
He walked into his kitchen getting a couple of beers from the fridge. He didn’t want to think about what he wanted right now. Faith was a sexy woman, and he would be lying if he hadn’t already seen what a looker she was.
“Do you? Want her?” Paul asked. “Or am I free to walk over there and ask her out?”
“No. You’re not free to do that. She’s mine.”
“You’re staking a claim?”
“Yeah, I am.”
End of sample chapter