Showing results by author "Grey Huffington" in All Categories

When souls are tied, it's never goodbye. A boy I was that summer evening I met you, pulling your belongings out of the truck and into your new home. I knew it was love then. A whole man I was the day that you met me at the altar and agreed to love me until death do us part. A shell of a man I've become since it did, unable to move on, move forward, or progress in any way until I discovered that not even death was permanent enough to keep us apart. A better man I'm destined to be, knowing that, at some capacity, you're still with me. Our love is one that never dies.

A menace, I was, the duration of my life. Unsure of what was next, who was next, or where I was headed next. The only for-sure shit in my world was my paper and my people. The ice around my heart was still intact, never being penetrated or as much as tapped.

She’s a gem..she's on an entirely different level than the women I’m accustomed to. She’s loyal and about her paper. That’s why I’d sacrifice the only friendships I’d ever known, wait for however long it took her to be ready, and happily sever ties with anyone who didn’t agree with—or was against—our union. The little spoiled brat that I once considered off-limits had given me a taste of her forbidden fruit, and there was nothing I’d stop at to maintain the privilege of burying my seeds in her garden.

Gutted, I was the day you left my side, but I understood it was no one's fault but mine. I pushed you away, wearing my pain on my sleeve while pursuing a passion that stemmed from that very pain. In the end, you decided to choose yourself, and I could never fault you for that. But it hurt, and still does 'til this day.

His heart is pure, but his screws are loose. She runs a strict program, but will bend the rules for the right one.

I am Rather Childers… I am one of seven women… I am one of eight siblings … I am the daughter of Richie & Rhea… And, I am wanted by the federal government… I traded my career and livelihood for a life of leisure in St. Catana that guarantees my freedom and eliminates the chances of extradition. Not only for me but for my family as well. Two years ago, our superior’s freedom was on the line. To secure his rightful place amongst his siblings, a sacrifice had to be made. I was the sacrifice.

She’s an angel. And she doesn’t mind dancing with a demon. That’s why I’d move mountains, dry seas, and hydrate the desert if it made her happy. She brought goodness to the world. It was only right that I made it hers, along with the two tiny beauties that shared her hazel eyes and perfect smile. For them, I’d do whatever. For them, I’d become whoever.

I hate flowers… I hate small talk… I hate the male gaze… I hate feeling lonely… I hate feeling connected… And most of all, I hate the idea of losing control… It’s one luxury I couldn’t afford. As a handler, my job depends on my ability to control things. Everything. Every room. Every outcome. Every possibility. Every threat. Every scandal. Every principle. Every interest. Every dollar. Every deal. Every death. But one look into the dark, desolate orbs of Ishmael Grayson, mayor-hopeful of Berkeley City, and I quickly discerned there were some things I couldn’t control.

Whole, I became, the moment God answered those prayers I put in and blessed me beyond measure. From that day, my priority has been and will always be catering to your every desire because you deserve a love that doesn't make you wonder, whimper, or worry. I've got that kind of love, and I'm here to give it to you.

Winning the heart of a heartless girl was deemed an impossible task. But, unbeknownst to me, Psalms ‘Sonnie’ Santoro was willing to visit the depths of the soil to retrieve that particular piece of me that I’d left to rot.

Year after year after year, I trick myself into believing that I’m over it—that I’m over him. Then I see his face, and the feelings we once shared resurface. We were young, and we were in love, but it was a love I was willing to do anything for. He was someone I was willing to do anything for. Suddenly, he decided that my love wasn’t enough. While he went on with his life, mine was always stuck on pause. Then, I decided that love waits for no one and allowed it into my world again.

I am not a drug dealer. I am not a seller… I am not a handler… I am not an abuser… I am not a promoter… I am not a smuggler… However, I understand that I can not save the world or the people who have chosen those paths. So, making substances safer, grander, and extremely unique is my life’s work. What I have created can’t be duplicated, stepped on, or mistaken for anything else.

Beautiful disaster. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of her. Who hurt you? The first question comes to mind when I open my mouth to greet her. Although it wasn't the easiest to reach, I knew her heart was pure. Gentle to the touch yet stubborn as a bull, she made it hard to resist her. Unintentionally, she sank her hooks in me. She was the calm before my storm. A thunderous, darkening storm with lightning that graciously exposed the paternity of my brother and me. Though the gloom of it all lingered above both our heads.

His pockets were stuffed, and his accounts were limitless, affording him luxuries that not everyone had when it came to me. He didn't flinch at the notion that he had to pay to play. It enticed him. That was my type. He was my type. But he knew no boundaries. His quest commenced the second our eyes met, my body hypnotizing him and everyone else in the room around us. He was as confident as he was persistent, tireless in his efforts to retrieve the one part of me that I'd buried for safekeeping. And, once he had it in his grasp, like every other man I'd shamefully given it to, he crushed it.

I’d loved him and I knew this one wouldn’t make a difference. Our paths were destined to meet. The question was always when. While patience forced the progression of my passion as a ballerina, I longed for him day in and day out. I closed my eyes often, hoping to meet him in the same place I had always–my dreams. What we had couldn’t be duplicated, erased, arranged, diluted, defused, confused, or mistaken for anything else. Fated love. It was rare. It was wild. It was raw. It was real.

I am not a dancer… I am not a bartender… I am not a s*x worker… I do not work the house… I own the house… And, everything that goes on in my house remains in my house. We service the wealthiest clients in all of Clarke. They come for a good time, not a long time. But, then there are those who don’t come for the fun itself. They come for the community. The connection. The Chemist.

Months after their 24-hour encounter, thoughts of Wilde are still in heavy rotation. While Jhalil has made efforts to suppress his desires for the damsel in distress, his efforts prove useless when an unsuspecting visit catapults them both into familiar territory—laced with lust, agonizing desperation, emotional comfort, and fulfillment beyond one’s imagination.

Me and you, we’re tied. Not just by the heart, but by the souls. Jagged edges and all.

She was maid fohr him. He was designed fohr her. Just fohr her.

Ever had a man to put you first? Prioritize your presence. Emphasize your existence. Maintain his focus... on you? Over everything? As if it was nothing? I hadn’t either, not until him. Not until Harlem Knight.