On June 21st, Denise Essex returns with a new release and she has a special sneak peek for you to read below.

“Baby, somebody’s at the door!” Tammy yelled into the bathroom.

“It’s probably my neighbor. Tell him I’ll get up with him later. I’m busy with you.” Jamal popped his head out of the shower and winked at her.

“You’re good with me answering your door in your shirt?”

“You and those legs in my shirt are the biggest flex. Please do!”

Tammy rolled her eyes and stomped to the door. By Sunday, she was completely comfortable at Jamal’s place. Unlike her suite at Heat Haven, she liked the homey feel. She could also see how relaxed Jamal was when they were there, which was a bonus. But whoever this neighbor was interrupted her nap. She needed all the energy she could to keep up with Jamal’s stamina.

She swung open the door and was met with two sets of delighted eyes who simultaneously stared at her from head to toe. Jamal’s oversized shirt with the words ‘The Agency’ printed on it suddenly felt like a mini skirt. The third pair of eyes were full of disgust. It was apparent Jamal’s mother and Tammy were about the same age. Awww, Shit!

“Where is my son?” the beautiful stranger asked as she pushed past Tammy.

Tammy’s face flushed, and she avoided the eyes of the younger boy who was clearly Jamal’s brother.

“How did Jamal convince you to take a chance on him?” he asked.

Their father pushed him into the house and extended his hand toward Tammy. “You’ll have to excuse my son. I’m Isiah. That’s Jason and my wife, Stacy, who stormed past you. She tends to forget that Jamal is a grown man, and we need to call before we pop up.”

“Tammy.”

Isiah sidestepped her and added, “Nice to meet you. I’ll try to talk some sense into my wife. She means well.”

Tammy was mortified. She could only imagine what she’d do if she found her daughter in a similar compromising situation. I think I’m gonna be sick.

Tammy wasn’t sure where Stacy was, but she prayed she could grab the one pair of sweatpants she packed. Everything else would be inappropriate for their unexpected guests. Tammy saw Stacy posted outside of the bathroom door with her arms folded. She was on ten, and Tammy didn’t blame her.

She stood awkwardly at the end of the hall. No matter how she played things, Tammy would need to get by Stacy. She could attempt to enter the bathroom with a half-naked Jamal, which would probably get her eyes gouged out, or she could try and slip by her to his bedroom, which would probably start a war.

“I can only imagine how pissed you are right now. I would never have answered the door the way I did if I knew you and your family were on the other side,” Tammy said. She was cautious to speak gently, but she needed to say something.

Stacy adjusted her body and met Tammy’s eyes with the rage of a triggered mother bear. “You look older than me. How old are you?”

Tammy regretted the time she wasted on age with Jamal, but admittedly, their family and friends were one of the many reasons she had. “I’m forty-seven.”

Stacy sneered. “Me too.”

Tammy could see where Jamal and his brother got their good looks. His mother was stunning. Like Tammy, she could easily pass for late thirties. Her golden colored eyes burned with justified anger. “What could you possibly want with my son?”

Tammy heard the shower turn off, and she wanted to scream a warning about his visitors. “Jamal,” she started.

“Yeah, nasty ass. I just washed off; give me a second to catch my breath.” He swung the door open with his towel low on his hips and a devious smirk on his face. Thank God! With the way he sounded, Tammy couldn’t be sure if he’d emerge fully naked. His mother probably didn’t know, but the tone of his voice said he was ready to go again.

“Mama?” Jamal asked as his eyes bounced between Stacy and Tammy.

“Who is this woman? And why is she here?” Stacy’s voice sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

“Don’t cry, Mama. This is my lady.”

Tammy’s stomach dropped.

“You sure about that? Is she married?” Stacy asked as if Tammy couldn’t hear the conversation.

“I’m not—” Tammy tried.

“I’m talking to my son!” Stacy did her best to maintain her composure, but she was on the verge of a meltdown if someone didn’t intervene. And Tammy was positive that person shouldn’t be her.

“Baby,” Isiah said from the entryway to the hallway.

“What?” Stacy’s eyes were locked on Tammy, who didn’t know where to look.

“At least let them get dressed. Come here.”

Stacy balled her fists but followed her husband into Jamal’s front room.

—

Enjoy this content? Receive more exclusives by joining our mailing list!

Mailing List Sign Up