Not This Time

Not This Time

By: Erosa Knowles

Veronique had gone the monogamous
relationship route before and got her heart stomped in the process.
She no longer allowed her emotions to romp and play with her
liaisons and kept her heart firmly locked away. While taking a
break from her sorority’s festivities, she meets Frank O’Connor in
a bar. She’s definitely attracted. The man is seriously fine and
does the one thing guaranteed to gain her attention. He threw down
a bedroom challenge. Claimed he knew a thing or two. Well, so did
she. With two days left in town, could she match his challenge and
leave town unscathed?

This book is a part of the Men of 3X
CONStruction series. Although it can be read as a stand- alone
book, the reading is more enjoyable when the other books in the
series are read first.

Other Books by
Erosa Knowles
:

Secrets

Special Forces

Nikki’s Challenge

The Ultimate Breed

Have I Told You Lately?*

Ready for Love*

Where There’s Smoke*

Not This Time*

Run to You (coming soon)*

*
denotes Men of 3X CONStruction series

Not This Time

Copyright October 2011, Knowles, Erosa

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the
original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may
be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in form without prior
written permission from Erosa Knowles or Sitting Bull
Publishing.

ISBN 9781937334116

Printed in the United States of America

Published by Sitting Bull Publishing

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference
might be made to actual historical events or existing locations,
the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product
of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This
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hard work of this author.

Chapter One

There was nothing special about the small
hotel lounge other than it smelled clean. Not a pine scent or
anything commercial like that, in reality it was more what it
didn't smell like that grabbed her attention and appreciation. The
absence of stale cigarette smoke and unwashed bodies overrode the
lack of décor, the limited liquor selections and insufficient
seating. Three large flat-screened TVs droned on in the background
with various news and sports programming. It was the sort of place
where you could chill in peace at the end of a long day if you
weren't a smoker.

“
Another rum and coke.”
Veronique motioned to the bartender as she set her empty glass on
the bar. Without looking, she scooped up a handful of peanuts from
the half-full basket on her left. It had been a long day. She
needed a quick drink to unwind before she reclaimed her hotel room.
Her married sorority sister, Pam, had borrowed her suite earlier to
engage in illicit relations with a man she'd met at their
sorority's ball last night. In other words, her girl was humping
like a rabbit and didn't want her husband or any of the other women
to know of her loose morals. Obviously, she didn't care that
Veronique knew. What the hell should she think of that? She tried
to muster interest at the question and realized she didn't care.
Why waste time thinking about her friend's immorality when she'd be
on her back as well, if she'd met someone interesting enough to
place her there. Glancing at her watch, she grunted. Hell, it'd
been two hours. If they were still at it, her girl would be on
stage and she'd be the audience. She was tired and her well of
benevolence was bone dry. Glancing around at the half-filled
tables, she spotted an empty one by the door.

“
Here you are.” She took the
drink, left a five on the bar and headed for the table. After a few
excuse me's, she reached her goal, and placed her purse on the
table. Once seated, an unheard sigh echoed in every quadrant of her
weary body. Her feet hurt, her stomach growled, and her head sent
signals of its unhappiness. Shit, she was getting too old for these
events. Next year, she'd pass on her sorority's annual gala and
after-party.

This afternoon's step competition had
showcased the best and the brightest from every fraternity and
sorority. What made her think she and her contemporaries could
still get down with those young, boneless newbies? Her cute red and
white pumps had screamed stop-this-shit right now, the entire time.
Payback was a mutha, and her feet had taken her prisoner.

One foot toed off her shoe. “Ummm...” She
sighed in exquisite bliss. Then that foot did the honors for the
other foot. Wiggling her toes, she'd swear they tingled in joy,
expanded in the open air, and wept merrily for their new
freedom.

Sipping on her drink, she looked around the
bar. The room was filling up. Lots of men dressed in suits, with
precision haircuts and buffed nails. There had been a time when
those men drew her like ink to paper. But it didn't take long to
realize she didn't like soft, well-manicured hands. Or someone who
read the labels on their shampoo and conditioner. And a man who
took longer than her to match his attire, worried her last
nerve.

Nope, she'd moved most of her colleagues to
the 'admire from a distance column,' it made for better
friendships. Who'd that leave? A woman had to be realistic, if she
wanted a man. Since becoming an attorney, and then going through
her divorce, she'd never paid much attention to blue-collar
workers. But then her daughter, Cherise, had met a man in
construction. Tall, rock solid, good head on his shoulders, with a
don't-mess-with-me persona. It seemed those kind of men ran in
packs. The men who worked for Three X Construction were
mouth-watering in so many ways. Not to mention their women, the few
she'd met, all seemed to have silly smiles on their faces. Her
daughter glowed with so much happiness and contentment; she'd
thought they had a baby on the way. Although Cherise denied being
pregnant, it wouldn't be long, not with the way Ross stayed on
her.

Hedrick, her ex, was military. He missed
both the professional and the blue collar columns. Military men had
a column all their own, a definite breed apart. For the past two
months, they'd been playing tag. Him tagging her ass and her
allowing him to. His frustration that she wouldn't allow them to
move past the casual sex phase irritated her. Casual was all she
wanted right now, especially with him. Sex between them had always
been good, but trusting him in another relationship, that was off
the table as far as she was concerned. Not only had he cheated on
her, but he'd married the bitch just a few months after their
divorce. Cheaters who lied, and then married the Cheatees, didn't
get second chances with her heart; too bad her body wasn't as
discriminating. Thoughts of him and their past sent her spirits
into a downward spiral.

“
Hell, I can be depressed in
my own room. Time to go.” Placing her glass on the table, she
leaned over to pick up her shoes and bumped into a pair of
jean-covered, rock solid long legs. Pushing back quickly, she
bumped her head on the table.

“
Ow.” She rubbed the bruised
spot.

“
I'm sorry, didn't see
you... down there.” The deep cadence of his voice reignited her
long-held crush of Barry White. She'd bought every record that dark
chocolate god had released. His music had been her
panty-wetting-let's-screw anthem. Eyes closed, she basked in the
memories of days and nights of fast and hard loving with Barry
crooning “can't get enough of your love,” in the
background.

“
Are you okay?”

The deep sexy-as-sin voice
shot straight to her core. Damn. Now visions of tangled sheets and
long nights ran through her mind with the voice. And she hadn't
even seen the body it came from. Sitting back up in her chair, she
eyed him while she rubbed the side of her face.
Damn, he's fine
.

“
I'll live.”

“
Can I get you another
drink?” The dark eyes pinned her to her chair. A flutter of
interest rose in her breast.

She nodded, her pussy tingled at his look of
interest.

“
What're you drinking?” He
smiled. And Veronique, defense attorney extraordinaire, swore the
sun had just come from behind a dark cloud, making her world seem
brighter. Sappy, but true.

“
Oh, a glass of zinfandel
will be fine.” Any buzz she'd had earlier evaporated under the
heavy dose of lust that'd swamped her. Although he wore jeans, his
shirt was professional grade. Could he be in the gray area? A
professional with blue-collar tendencies. Hmmm, watching him weave
through the crowd, she marveled at his size. Tall, broad shoulders,
dark hair and eyes. All-around nice package. Her lips puckered and
smacked, wanting a taste.

God, please let him be capable of a halfway
decent conversation. No matter how hot and horny he made her, she'd
long passed the stage where she screwed dumb men. Even brief flings
had to bring more than solid meat to the table. Placing her shoes
into her large Coach bag, she watched him maneuver the crowd while
holding her wine and a beer.

He handed her the glass as he sat next to
her.

“
Thanks, I appreciate it.
I'm Veronique by the way.” She looked at him from beneath her lids
as she took a sip of the cool liquid.

“
I'm Frank. Your name's
different. Are you from Philly?” He took a pull from his bottle.
The weight of his gaze warmed her.

“
No, I'm here for a
conference. Two more days to go.” She gazed at his dark eyes, and
the heat singed her core. His eyes blazed as he watched her lips on
the glass.
Yep, he was he
interested
. “Is this home for
you?”

“
I live an hour away, but I
had some business in town, and came in here to unwind before
heading out.” He looked at her and winked. “Glad I did.”

Me, too.
“How about that? I was on my way out when you
bumped into me. Must be kismet, huh?” She smiled as he placed his
bottle on the table, and leaned toward her.

“
Yeah, kismet works for me.
Let me buy you dinner before you leave. You seem like an
interesting person, Veronique. I'd like to know you
better.”

Tingles shot down her spine when he said her
name. “I am.” She stood, and picked up her purse.

He followed. “Is there anything you
prefer?”

“
Lean meats.” She smirked as
her eyes roved slowly over his muscular frame. Did she say he was
fine? Regardless, his body demanded another bravo for
finess.

He placed his hands in his pocket and walked
behind her. “Lean meats? Hmmm, lean and juicy, I hope.”

“
Juicy works. Nobody likes
dry meat.” She stopped and looked around the hotel lobby for the
entrance to the in-house restaurant. Spotting it, she headed in
that direction. “We can eat here.”

“
Sounds good. I like lean
and juicy myself.” He grinned. They entered the restaurant, and the
hostess sat them in the back after Veronique explained the problem
with her shoes.

After they'd been seated, she glanced at
Frank over her menu. Damn. The man was handsome. Thick, dark shiny
hair touched his collar, a small close-cropped beard, and a nice
smile. He reminded her of Russell Crowe and Mel Gibson combined
into a delicious package. A package she planned to unwrap before
the night was over.

Frank O'Connor slid the bulge in his pants,
in search of a comfortable spot. The woman sitting next to him had
his mouth watering, an unusual occurrence for him. Her smooth
chocolate complexion reminded him of his favorite candy, Milky Way.
He couldn't wait to taste every delectable inch of her. She wore
her hair pulled up in the back, showing off her long neck, while
curls framed her face. It seemed like a lot of work to accent to an
already beautiful countenance. Large eyes stared at him with a
teasing challenge that ripped into his calm facade.