Mistake

MISTAKE

Brigitta Moon

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Brigitta Moon

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

ISBN 978-150095697

ALSO BY BRIGITTA MOON

Fiction, Erotica, Romance

HIM

HIM Again

The Diamond Couple

HIM THE TRILOGY

Nonfiction

Money Management

Debt Cruncher: How I Went From a Credit Score of

600 to a Credit Score of 760

Acknowledgements

    Words, spoken or written can be powerful tools. They linger in your thoughts, form pictures in your mind. They compliment, degrade, cause happiness, sadness, build up and tear down, elicit tears and cause laughter in the listener or reader. Words, they roll off your tongue and dance before your eyes. They evoke emotion.

    With words in mind, I set out to author a book, and then another. How scary. I worried. I wrote. I worried. I wrote. So what was my worry? I worried the words on the page that I presented to the reader would not evoke emotion or paint a picture of the story that pulsed from my thoughts to my fingertips to type on the page.   

     Now I have authored another novel, my best so far. I am so grateful to Kimberly for being my cheering section. She assured me the words on the pages of this book were good. The story was engaging. She was never able to guess what would happen next. And just when she thought she had it figured out, she was wrong. I enjoyed all her texts as she read Beth’s story.

     I especially enjoyed one particular text. It assured me that my words had indeed evoked emotion. I am sharing this with Kimberly’s permission. “Where are you Ms. Moon, need to talk to you, didn’t like what took place with my Cornflower, I’m hurt and saddened, can’t read anymore until I see you...”

     After reading that, I knew I could finish the book. Thank you Kimberly for being my cheering section.   

Brigitta Moon

Prologue

Beth changed into shorts and a T-shirt and lounged across her bed. An image of the golden book appeared in her head. She felt a fierce desire within herself to reach for it. She sat up and opened her bedside table drawer to peer at the book that was demanding her attention. It was a beautiful book she thought to herself as she lifted it from the drawer. She slid her hand over the flowery golden designs on the cover. They felt warm as tingles traveled through her finger tips. She noticed there was no lettering on the cover of the golden book. She opened it looking for a title.
THE DEED TO LOVE,
she read.
Author No One.

     
No One, she thought to herself. I’ve heard of Anonymous, but No One; how odd,
she thought.  She flipped to the next page and read,
How special you are to have received the gift of this book. Read my story of love and embrace the deed with caution.

     
With caution?
Beth thought to herself as she flipped the page and lay across the bed and began to read the book which piqued her interest.

    
The room was romantically dim with only hints of light spewing from the candles dressing the walls. Classical music hummed in the air. Dancing feet lightly tapped at the Maple floor. Theron’s eyes beheld a young divine woman from across the room.  Golden hues flickered over Creamy skin with wisps of softly flowing chestnut curls drizzling around her oval face flowing to her bare shoulders.  Her eyes saw only the table which was shared with no one but herself. Theron’s gaze held her alluring beauty in secret as he studied her and admired her as a piece of fine art. Her face rose and her brown eyes circled in gold looked past Theron while her ruby pouty lips beckoned to him. Theron longed to touch them with his; to finger them and feel her lips and tongue devour each of his finger tips. He looked closer and thought he saw one lone tear slide from her eye, down her cheek and melt into the cloth adorning the table.

    Theron’s heart ached for her. Why was such a magnificent specimen of a woman shedding tears at such a romantic place? Her sadness enticed him, called to him.

     The phone on the bedside table rang.

     “Hello, what is it?” Beth said exasperated.

     “Hello to you too,” Lil said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

     “No, I’m sorry Lil. I was just engrossed with Theron.”        

     “Who is Theron?”

     “The book that Mrs. Greene’s sister brought to her.”

     “Oh, she gave it to you? Why?”

     “I don’t know, but I like it so far. It’s a love story, I think. Theron the hunk; he is watching this beautiful woman. I can’t wait to see what he will do. She seems to be so sad…”

    “Okay, Beth, you have issues. You need to put those love stories down and let that man fuck you. Why save your virginity when you are dying to give it away?”    

    “No, I’m happy with Theron,” she said dreamily.

    “Now I’m worried. Theron is a character in a book,” Lil said.

    “I know that. It’s just that I can have the perfect, most handsome man just by opening my book,” Beth replied dreamily.

    “I think we need to go out and party a little. It’s Friday and only three O’clock. Let’s go to a club tonight,” Lil pleaded.

    “I’m going to have to pass tonight Lil. I have to get back to Theron. Talk to you later Lil.”

    Beth opened her book and imagined she was the fine specimen of a woman sitting at the table worthy of the ache in Theron’s loins.

         
Theron could watch no more as another tear slid from his desires’ golden eye and disappeared down her cheek. His feet carried him to stand in her eyes’ sight.

    “Tears have no place on the face of such an angelic creation,” Theron said to the young woman. “My name is Theron,” he said reaching for her hand.

    The golden eyes lifted to descry a man much older than herself but definitely attractive. Her consciousness rose as she surveilled the broad shoulders dressed in a black suit. She eyed the white shirt opened enough to tease her with the view of a few stands of black straight hair.

    Her hand affectionately met Theron’s as she peered into a pair of intense jade hooded eyes.

    “My name is Zara,” She said lightly as Theron pressed his lips to her hand.

    “I’m Theron and it would give me the greatest pleasure to have such a beautiful woman dance with me.”

    Theron released her hand, walked behind her and slid her chair out. He returned to face Zara, took her hand and eased her from the space she occupied alone in silent agony. Theron placed his left hand tenderly around her petite waist while his right hand embraced her left holding it tenderly near his cheek. He drew her in close and stepped quietly to the music humming in the air.

    Zara’s elegant crystal embellished peep toe heels followed step with Theron’s black patent leather wingtip oxfords. No words were spoken between them. They just held each other’s eyes and danced the seductive dance of foreplay. Theron swept Zara across the mahogany floor through the elegant glass doors into the night lit by the smiling moon, twinkling stars and fireflies and danced to the music of the night crickets.

    He folded her into his embrace as his senses were pleasured with the warm, intoxicating sensual redolence of her essence. Theron curved Zara’s back as he entwined her in a salsa dip, pressed his lips against her cleavage and lightly slid his tongue smoothly up her chest, her neck, her chin to her mouth, tasting her lips.

    
Beth fanned herself with the book saying out loud, “Theron if only you were here. If only Andrew was like you.”

CHAPTER
1

   
 
Beth at the age of twenty-two arose from a restful night in her queen size canopy bed where she was swaddled in all the softness and fluff of a white down filled comforter. Rays of sunshine infiltrated her sanctuary through the sheer blue drapes dressing a bay window as she lifted her face to greet the sunshine while euphoric thoughts played in her mind. After four years of sweat and tears, the payoff day was upon her. Unable to contain her happiness she sprung from her resting place to glimpse the reflection of a woman on her graduation day. She wore anticipation in her sultry luminous blue eyes. A wide smile played across her thin pink lips as she raised her fist in triumph shrieking, “I did it!”

    The aroma of coffee and bacon crept into her room teasing her senses. A black cap and gown draped proudly over a hook on the door waited to take its rightful place. A soothing voice stroked her ears, “Beth, are you getting dressed? Your big day is beginning,” said her mother from the kitchen.

    “Yes, I’m getting dressed now,” Beth called back.

    Beth showered, wrapped a towel around her slender five feet six inch body and brushed her teeth. In a few hours she would be a graduate. She donned a peach A-line skirt dress with a sweetheart neckline. Around her swan like neck she clasped a string of pearls. Brushing out her thick, wavy black hair which fell to her breasts she gathered it into a long braid flipping it over her shoulder to rest on her left breast.

    A natural look was her makeup style today; just a hint of red shimmer for her lips. Appraising herself in the mirror, she was pleased and stepped into her peach colored slingbacks. Beth draped her gown over her arm with her cap held proudly in her hand. She descended the stairs to the kitchen.

    A woman, an older replica of Beth stood waiting in the kitchen preparing to serve the graduation breakfast. Her eyes regarded her daughter with love, admiration and pride as tears began to well up inside her. Beth’s father, a tall slender man rose from the chair he occupied, strolled over to his daughter and embraced her. He stepped back holding on to her hands admiring the beautiful successful woman she has become.

    “Beth, today is such a proud day for your mother and me. Our baby is graduating from college, something your mother and I had only dreamed about and never done,” her father said dabbing a tear from his eye.

    “Daddy, I couldn’t have done it without you and mother. You know that,” Beth said as she smoothed her dress under her and perched on a chair at the dining table.

    She took in the scene unbelieving, eyes wide, mouth forming an O.

    “Mother, you have outdone yourself; breakfast with the good China and the fine silver. You’ve even placed a table cloth in my school colors, Yellow and blue. And how much food are you cooking over there?”

    “Today is a momentous occasion and therefore should be treated as such. A special day as this must be greeted with love, thankfulness and full bellies,” her mother said following with light laughter.

    Hugs were generously dished out before the breakfast was consumed.

    “I have to get going so I’m not late. I will see you at the event,” Beth said smiling and blowing kisses as she headed for the door.

    Beth opened the door to her red ten year old Honda Accord given to her by her parents when she finished high school; her incentive to continue on to college. She eased in, whipped her seat belt over her shoulder, snapped it locked and started the engine. Cranking the windows down Beth drove to the City Line gas station to fill her tank.

    “Hey beautiful, you must be tired because you been running through my mind,” Beth heard a husky voice say.

    Beth looked around for the source, eyeing an average height man, taller than her, with bowed luscious pale red lips sporting a gleaming rack of white teeth and a sexy five O‘clock shadow early in the morning. Beth took a step toward him and comically eyed the man from his head of dark brown rustled hair to the crotch of his denim blue Levis to the tip of his squared off black exotic gator boots, back up to his denim crotch, pausing and then gazing up to his now amused face. His emerald eyes smiled as he waited for a reply.

    “That line is lame. Couldn’t you come up with a better one?” Beth asked laughing.

    “It was all I had on such short notice,” came the answer in a way too husky, sexy voice.

    Beth finished pumping her gas, waved politely to the young man, returned to her seat belt, started the engine, rolled up the windows, turned on the air and jetted out of the station. The young man hopped over the door to his convertible and burned rubber as he took off after Beth. Finally caught at a stop light, the young man with the weak, has been come on line pulled up alongside the red Honda and motioned with his hand for Beth to put the window down. She laughed; no way could she reach over to roll the window down. He mouthed,
take my number
. The light turned green. She smiled and gunned the engine. The Porsche’s engine roared next to her. She looked at Mr. Porsche as he made what appeared to be lewd hand signals. She smiled a sensual smile back at Mr. Porsche.

    “What the hell?” Beth said out loud.

    Then it hit her. Oh. He was giving her his phone number using his hands. What could it hurt she thought. As he displayed his fingers to her, she took one hand off the steering wheel and typed the numbers into her phone. She held it up for Mr. Porsche to see and smiled. He smiled back and roared off ahead of her out of sight.