It’s finally ready. Here is the cover reveal of my new passionate, steamy romance novel “Billionaire’s Dark Romance (A BWWM BBW Alpha Male Book”.
This book is all about the romance between dashing Billionaire currency trader Kane Arthurs and the gorgeous, mysterious BBW Kenya Masters.
Kane is a womanizer who seems to finally meet his match in the alluring Kenya and their tale is filled with humor and steamy sex.
Here is an excerpt:
The hot water cascades sensuously down my chest, evoking a familiar stirring of my loins. My eyes are closed, and for some reason the figure of Kenya Masters flashes before my eyes. Her statuesque, round, curvy body sends my heart a racing a million miles an hour.
In a few hours I will be seeing her again and I am anticipating another battle of wits.
I am baffled that I am this much attracted to her, physically. She is so far removed from the women I normally go for. The fact that she is black is even more perplexing. In my twenty eight years, I have yearned after many things, but skinny Asian, Latinos and whites have always been on the top of my list. I have never had sex with a black woman…much less a curvy one…My anticipation is at its peak.
Images of Kenya’s tender flesh… my shaft knifing into her… the look of passion on her face, invade my mind and I quickly snap out of it, lest I be tempted to masturbate, something I haven’t done since my teen years. Since becoming a man, there has always been a woman available at my beck and call.
I turn off the tap and step out of the shower. I grab a towel and gently run it across my expansive chest. I am proud of my muscular, athletic body. I like the power it wields over women and the way they swoon when they see me naked.
I glance at the clock. It’s a quarter to nine. Kenya said she and the girls would be heading out to The Den at about nine thirty and I just get the feeling that she will be bang on time. That’s the kinda girl I figure her to be.
Now fully dry, I venture over to the massive walk-in closet and open its doors. I love clothes. I love to dress and I am crazy about fashion. I like to look hip and trendy. It’s part of the image. It comes with the territory.
Tonight I play to blow Kenya’s socks off at our “chance encounter”, so I have to be at my best.
I choose a pair of dark slacks, which fits just perfectly and long-sleeved green Versace shirt. I leave a few buttons open on the top to show off a whiff of my chest hair.
Next it’s time to accessorize. I don’t want to overindulge, so I choose a thin gold chain with a small crucifix attached and a gold bracelet which cost me a small fortune. For footwear, I settle with the diamond studded Aubercy. I have never worn it before and have been looking for the right occasion to debut the fine pair of shoes. I just found that occasion.
I snap on my newest Rolex to complete the transformation, step back and look into the mirror. I like what I see. I am ready to become the hunter tonight.
All that’s left is to choose the cologne for the evening and it can be none other than my Clive Christian No.1, the limited Imperial Majesty Edition, of course. The ultimate panty dropper. I have a couple of the last few bottles of this gem remaining on earth and use it only for very special occasions.
I spray it on and sniff the amazing scent. I am ready. Trade Kenya Masters is about to begin.
At nine twenty five I close the apartment door and amble into the private elevator. I have a thing about private elevators. They get you where you want to go in a jiffy. No waiting around and stopping at different floors.
Downstairs in the foyer I am greeted by Carlos the affable doorman.
“Evening Mr. Arthurs, Sir.”
“Evening, Carlos.” I slide a hundred dollar bill into his outstretched palm. I am in generous mood tonight.
“Thank you, Sir. Thank, you.” Carlos is beaming and opens the door for me.
It’s a nice evening outside, not too hot or cool, just the right temperature.
I am looking good and feeling good and all that’s left is to choose the right vehicle. Chad, my lead chauffeur, rolls around in with the Koenigsegg Agera R sports car, priced at just a shade over a million and a half, and among the ten most expensive cars in the world. This baby goes from zero to sixty kilometres per hour in under three seconds and is capable of reaching a maximum speed of 418 kilometers per hour, but was electronically limited to 378 kph. I had to sign a waiver, only then did the creators unlock the speed limited. The car is a fucking beast.
I smile to myself. The machine is a sight to behold. I have driven it just once before and the excitement it stirred made me consider never driving it again. Until tonight.
Chad is smiling as he exits the car and offers me the key.
“Mr. Arthurs, I thought you had forgotten about the Agera R. You haven’t driven it in ages.” He winks at me. “Must be a rather special occasion tonight?”
I laugh out loud. “You bet it is Chad…you bet.”
I slide into the driver’s seat and race the engine for a second. The vehicle roars like a tiger. I like the feeling of power it exudes under the hood. It take a powerful creature to tame another powerhouse. Kenya as meeting her match tonight.
I slip into drive and roar down the streets. All eyes are on me as I cruise the streets of Manhattan on my way to The Den. Motorists and pedestrian alike gawk at the vehicle, especially the women. I look to my left and see a cute blonde smiling at me. Any other time and I would have been tempted to stop and chat her up. But not tonight. Tonight, I have one prey in mind and her name is Kenya Masters.
I have The Den in my sights in pretty quick time. I stop the vehicle, surveying the crowd from a distance. There is a line stretching around the corner, just as I figured there would be. It is one of the hardest clubs to get into in New York. You either have to have a membership, which was awarded to a privileged few, mainly celebrities or the filthy rich, or be pretty enough to catch the eye of the door man.
It is time for lights, camera, action. I race up to the entrance in the Koenigsegg Agera R, and all hell breaks loose. All eyes turn to the car. Mouths pop open, jaws drop in fascination.
I sit in the car for effect, slowly opening the door. As I step out three valet race over, each trying to be the one to get a chance to park my ride. I am in prime form, dressed and ready for the role I am about to play.
I toss the key to the winner. “Just don’t dent my baby.” I shoot at him.
“No…sir.” He stammers back.
I cast a curious eye at the people in the line, trying to pick out Kenya and her posse and sure enough I spot them in the corner of my eyes, but pretend not to notice. I am sure my arrival had had its desired effect.
“Kane…Kane,” I hear my name being shouted out in the distance. It’s Kora of course, I would recognize her voice anywhere.
I stroll toward the direction of the voice. Sure enough it’s her.
“Hey hi Kora…hi ladies, fancy running into you here. It’s a small world.” I venture, trying not to laugh, knowing fully well that Kenya knows the truth that I am not here by chance…that I knew they would be here.
I look at Kenya. Our eyes lock for an instant. She has a bemused look on her face, as if not knowing what to make of my entrance. I quickly turn my attention to Kora and the other girl, a drop dead gorgeous creature, who resembles a magazine cover girl.
“Kane…you sure know how to make an appearance man.” Kora gushes. “That car is the bomb, dude.”
I smile again. I haven’t been called dude in a long time.
“What are you all doing in the line, come here and join me. Let me take you inside.” I make an offer I know they cannot refuse. Before Kenya could object, Kora and the other girl slip the entrance rope and head towards me. She has no option but to follow them.
Once beside me, Kora catches a whiff of the Clive Christian No. 1, which is really hard to miss.
“Damn you smell good, Kane.” The effervescent Kora blurts out.
“Thank you, thank you.” I retort, bowing to mock applause.
Kenya smiles, while Kora cracks up.
“Kane, these are Kora and Jessi. My two besties. Girls, this is Kane Arthurs, king of the Forex traders and from what I hear, quite the ladies man, so be careful around him.” Despite herself Kenya laughs again, her eyes zeroing in on mine, defiantly.
“Kora and Jessi, don’t believe everything you hear. I am just an ordinary guy from The Bronx, who got lucky.” I am enjoying the byplay with Kenya.
The introductions out of the way, I take a closer look at the girls, chattering excitedly among themselves. I catch Kora glancing at me admiringly every few seconds. At the moment she seems the one most smitten.
I stare at Kenya for a minute. Drinking in her beauty. She is dressed in a short, tight, black dress, with a plunging neckline, that shows off just a small section of her bountiful breasts. The dress fits her perfectly, accentuating her curvaceous body. Her make-up is perfectly applied. Everything about her reeks of class.
“So Kane, do you think you can handle a night out with three energetic women?” Kenya interjects, snapping me back to reality.
“Of course I can. Didn’t I tell you they call me Mr. Energy at the gym?”
The girls laugh. Kenya’s tongue gently licks against her lips for an instance, but does not escape my detection.
“Kane, are you a real live billionaire?” Kora enquires gleefully, a twinkle in her eyes.
“I have a few dollars in my bank account.” I laugh at the question.
“You see Kora, money is a perception. It’s something out there in cyberspace. One bad trade and it could be gone tomorrow and I am back on the streets of Brooklyn.” I let that sink in as the girls look on. Kenya’s eyes are wide open.
“So, let’s say for the moment I am financially secure and I try to enjoy the ride while it lasts.”
I glance at Kenya and see that the look in her eyes is softening. She is warming to me.
All eyes are on us as we stroll towards the entrance. The girls are holding hands. We make a striking foursome.
The doorman and bouncer hurriedly open the roped off VIP section and let us enter. I am sure they are not aware of who I am, but after driving up in the Koenigsegg Agera R and dressed the part, they figure I must be someone important.
I nod to the doorman and bouncer and palm them both a hundred. Their eyes light up. I guarantee they will not forget my face, no matter what vehicle I drive up in next time.
“Somebody has major contacts.” Jenni whispers in my ears. I smile and shrug at the comment.
“I am sure not as much as you.” I whisper back, breaking out into laughter.
We walk down a red carpeted section. A well-dressed man in a suit, welcomes us and escorts us upstairs to a waiting table, with a view of all the action downstairs.
I have heard about The Den, which had opened just a few months before, but hadn’t gotten around to attending as yet. I like the feel and energy of the place. The dance floor downstairs is crowd by what appears to be the upwardly mobile crowd, while the bartenders are weaving their magic.
We sit at our table. Kora is seated next to me to my right and Jessi to my left. Kenya’s takes up the seat farthest away from me, by her design I realize.
“Are you having a good time, Kane?” Jessi squeezes my arms, her green eyes twinkling in a kaleidoscope of colors. The girl has creamy white skin and is drop dead gorgeous. It take an effort not to stare at her.
“I am having an amazing time, Jessi.” I give her my toothpaste commercial smile and touch her on her shoulder in return. Her eyes sparkle even more. While I am chatting to Jessi, I am watching Kenya’s reactions out of the corner of my eye. She has a thoughtful look her face.
“Which man wouldn’t be, surrounded by three gorgeous young women?” I added.
The reply pleases Jessi and she giggles like a high school girl.
A young male waiter makes his way over to our table. He has a bottle of champagne in hand.
“Good evening, my name is Denver and I will be your waiter for the evening and if there is anything I can get you, anything at all, just give me a holla.” The waiter is all smiles, but his eyes are fixed on me. Obviously the word about the high roller who drives a very expensive car has filtered down the ranks.
“A bottle of Cristal for you and the ladies.” He chimes, in that college student tone. “Compliments of house for you and your guests, Mr…..”
“Arthurs.” The girls chime in in unison, belting out peals of laughter.
“Thank you, Denver.” I mouth off.
Denver pops the cork and proceeds to pour the bubbly into four champagne flutes, he has placed on the table.
Kenya clenches her glass.
“I toast to my Besties.” She purrs. “To the two best friends a girl could ever have.”
We all raise our glasses and clink them for a toast. Kenya gulps hers down in one drink. I look at her in amazement.
Don’t tell me she has a wooden leg, too.
I sip slowly, trying to enjoy the taste of my champagne. I like the feel of the bubbly tickling my throat. It’s well chilled, just the way I want it.
“So Kenya, tell me a little about you?” I enquire, trying to be heard above the noise from the music and chatter around.
She leans towards me.
“What, I can’t hear you properly?”
You could if you came and sat beside me.
“Kane, why don’t you take Kenya down to the dance floor? Then you guys can get to talk all you want?” It’s Kora’s voice.
I look up, Jenni seems a trifle disappointed.
I begin to rise. I have Kenya where I want her. She can’t say no… not this time, without seeming rude.
“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” My arms are outstretched towards her.
Kenya gets up from her comfy seat. I skirt around Kora, until I am beside her. I take her hand and lead her downstairs. The touch of our fingers sends a thrill down my spine. Her hands are soft, yet firm; just the kind a man would want rummaging all over his body.
Kenya don’t ply away her hands, as we descend the stairs. Pit Bull’s “Fire Ball” is blasting through the speakers as we walk down the stairs arm in arm. Kenya bobs her head from side to side, caught up in the beat and lyrics.
I am no professional dancer, but I have been told that I have good rhythm. On the dance floor though, Kenya’s is on another level. She begins to move in tandem with the beat, her body gyrating sensuously. I start to move, but just barely. I am totally transfixed, as the club light reflects off her perfect form.
Kenya pulls me towards her.
“What’s happened Kane, cat got you tongue?”
She dances away again and I dance after her. I catch her. “No, just you. You are absolutely beautiful.”
Kenya laughs and breaks free of my grasp, twirling and skanking to the beat. She is laughing, then grabs her hair and pulls it up as he gets down to the floor and back up.
I try my best to keep up with her feverish pace, and receive a nod of approval.
Mercifully the beat changes and a slow dance number comes on.
It’s my turn now.
I draw her towards me, leading her. She tries to change the steps so she can lead, but I hold her tight.
I need to have my way.
Eventually she succumbs to my movements.