Forever Mine Box Set (BWWM, African American, Interracial,and Multicultural) Read Online Free PDF

Beverly Hills Mansion was in foreclosure.
    The cab drove to the private airfield and he paid without leaving a tip. “Next time,” he said.
    “Fuck you,” the cabbie said. He appeared to have just come to the country and he had immersed himself in the culture already. His use of the word fuck was spot on. Mason understood because he learned to use that word. It became a part of his everyday language. He liked that word. It expressed his feelings and after using it a few times, he felt stress leave him. So every time he felt the stress of not having money or his crazy family in England, he would walk around and say. “Fuck.”
    Standing waiting for his passenger, he walked to the restroom to relieve himself. Stumbling out and not seeing Rachel, who was obviously late, he said, “Where the fuck is she?”
    The End of Chapter 1 Swept Away

Part 2
By Erica Storm
Copyright 2015 by Erica Storm
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    Chapter 1: Amanda
    I knew things were too good to be true. Just when Matthew and I sat down to dinner on our Friday date night, his phone rang. Naturally I thought it was something that had to do with his business. His secretary had been calling him more often lately, especially on Saturdays and during dinner. I prepared myself to have dinner alone, and get some reading done for my English Literature class.
    “Amanda, I have to take this.” Matthew stood, wearing a pair of soft expensive blue jeans, his long legs complimenting his well-developed body. His casual white shirt hanging on his wide shoulders and muscled chest. He passes his hands through his dark silky hair and winks at me with his green eyes. He even throws me a kiss before walking to the foyer where he drops his keys and phone.
    “I forgot to turn it off,” he said with an apologetic glance hunching his shoulders. I glance at him returning a smile, knowing I can’t get enough of that gorgeous face and body.
    Walking pass me with phone in hand, he heads to the picture window facing the ocean to return the call. He’s looking at his phone. I grabbed his leg and put my hand between them cupping his sex with my hand.
    Pausing a minute, looking down at my hand, his eyes smile in anticipation, and he says, “You better eat everything on your plate, get your energy up because when I return, I want everything you promised me.” His expression erotic as he glides his tongue over his lips making an obscene gesture. He leans in parting my lips, and I let his tongue explore my mouth before he makes his call.
    He saunters out of sight and out of my hearing distance, then he returns a few minutes later and walks over to the antique Chinese bowl dropping the phone in. The bowl held all the things he discards from his pockets that chain him to his office and the outside world.
    Matthew and I were catching up on what was popular on television. I mentioned Empire, he discussed Game of Thrones and books that are a must read.
    And Friday was our day for solidifying our love for each other. We were always together whether it was out to dinner or when I would cook for him. He appreciated that I knew my way around the kitchen. I usually greet him with only an apron and high heels after I cooked his favorite meal, spaghetti and meatballs.
    Living in New York, Matthew had become addicted to the dish. He hired my mother as his cook and maid because of her Italian meat balls. She wasn’t Italian of course, but she worked for an Italian family and learned the art of making perfect meatball and sauces.
    She handed down her recipes to me, and I would surprise him with my cooking. He appeared to be thrilled that I could fry chicken, and said that he didn’t have to stop at KFC in his limo for a bucket of chicken.
    He had said that he wasn’t born with all his money. And it was Alecia who wanted a certain type of lifestyle, and because of that, he took jobs in far off countries only coming home every six months.
    When I looked up, Matthew is standing behind me, his