The Depth of A Sister’s Love: Excerpt One

img_2555A sneak peek into The Depth of A Sisters Love

He was no longer the first call she made when she had good news.

Kisses against the refrigerator door were replaced with arguments against the front door.

Naked bodies cuddling in the moonlight a distant memory, now simply two strangers sharing a bed ignoring the fact that neither could sleep.

What do you say to someone that you know loves you but you also know is no longer in love with you? People have written love songs for years about missing the love of their life or wanting their lover back, who has ever written a love song about the love fading away?

Standing at the door watching her place the last of her things in her car he felt the tears in his eyes. Tears not caused by a broken heart but tears of regret. What could have been, should have been, had their beginning been different, had he been more willing to be the man she deserved?

She took her time trying to make the bags fit in a car that wasn’t made for moving. Glancing back at him trying to be strong even though strength was the last thing on her mind. She’d yelled and screamed and made threats about how he would regret it but in the end, when all her energy was gone and the facade of a potentially great love was shattered. She knew the truth. Her heart was no longer in it and it would hurt her losing a friend more than it would hurt her to lose the man.

No tearful goodbyes asking her to stay.

No midnight text messages telling her he needed her to come home.

Love meant needing to see her happy. It meant needing to see her smile. Being with him brought a storm to her life that she was willing to brave no matter what. What he knew that she didn’t was that storms weren’t meant to last forever. Storms were beautiful nightmares.

Watching her speed down the street hear taillights fading as she turned the corner he knew he’d made the right decision. He knew she’d fine happiness in the world she could never find with a man like him.

Every corner in the house, every couch, every chair, every inch of his desk was a reminder of her smile, of her innocence, of their passion. Reminders that would burn deepest when the nights are the quietest. Looking in his phone there were dozens, hundreds pictures of her. Some innocent, some that only he would ever see, the memories too much to handle.

In the silence he closed his eyes wanting to hear her laughter, wanting to hear her car thump over the gate. In the silence he wanted to be selfish.

“I have nothing, you took it all and now you’ve taken my heart. You said you’d break me and you did, I’m too good for you.” Her words a constant reminder of his failures as a man.

He now knew the meaning of love songs and looking at the blood moon out his window he smiled as though he’d made the revelation of a lifetime.

“Why are they called love songs when the words that inspire them hurt like hell.”

Lying down on the floor he just listened to the music and stopped fighting the pain.


The sound of metal hitting metal jarred him awake! Jumping up and looking around he heard it again!


“I told you not to hurt me! You must be crazy to think I’m the only one that’s going to walk away from this devastated.” He looked out the window to see her and her younger sister standing on his front porch with baseball bats, her older sister was leaning against the car.

He laughed, “Now I see why they call them love songs. You have to be crazy in love to put up with this shit.”

Hey Stranger (Explicit Content)

“Hey Stranger.”

That’s how it started. Sitting on my couch, drinking a bottle of wine, watching the Chiefs and Broncos. When I first got the text I didn’t even recognize the number. I was lonely though, the Best Man Holiday had me thinking about love and life. So at that point I really didn’t care who it was.

“In driving so I shouldn’t be texting. WYD?”

Still having no idea who it was and not in the mood for a guessing game I finished another glass of wine and pressed call. It took a couple rings but when she answered I recognized the voice right away. I should have hung up the phone and blocked the number but for whatever reason I didn’t.

“I’m happy you called, I almost hit a curb trying to text. I was driving home from a friends and passed up P.F. Changs and thought about you. You remember that night?”

What did she want me to say? Of course I remembered that night. That night was what I loved about her and what I hated about her. She was aggressive, sexy, motivating. The problem was when a woman is that sensual all I could think about was, “If she’s not doing this freaky shit with me then who’s she doing it with?”

“I don’t want to go home. Can I come see you?”

She didn’t say it with her usual confidence, I knew if she was calling me then something wasn’t right. As explosive as our love making was that was never what our relationship was about. In the two years we knew each other I’d probably been inside of her less than 10 times. Our connection was one of lost souls. A connection I missed.

“Do you still remember the address?”

“I’m exiting the freeway now, I should be there in a minute.”

I guess there was little doubt in both our minds I wouldn’t say no. Standing on the porch waiting to see her headlights coming down the quiet street I was more excited then I was willing to admit to myself.

She pulled into my driveway, I could see her checking her face in the mirror. Walking towards me neuter of us could stop from smiling. Whether they were nervous smiles or genuine I had no idea. She walked in, not waiting on me to invite her in.

Before I knew it I had her pinned against the door. Her purse on the floor, her arms wrapped around my neck. My hands rubbing her stomach, tracing the outline if her bra. Desire isn’t something you can explain, our hunger for each other was timeless. Maybe I was lonely and she was vulnerable and that combination had my fingers inside her warmth. That bond had my tongue making a trail from her belly button to that magic button.

The more I kissed her, the more I felt her body responding, the more I wanted to please her. The more I needed to make her remember her pussy once belonged to me! Tugging at her jeans, sitting her left should on my thigh I buried my face inside her! The smell, the taste, the warmth of the walls I once called home were calling me.

“Eat it baby! Put your whole fucking face in it! Lick my ass!”

With us nasty was necessary, it was the norm! Things I’d done with her, to her! I would take to my grave.

Bending her over, spreading her ass cheeks and putting my thumb inside I just watched her wiggle. Pulling her panties to the side, rubbing my dick against her wetness her warmth felt like home. For a second I thought why aren’t I using a condom? Why does this feel so fucking right? My tears fell, the pleasure and comfort of the wetness surrounding my dick was beyond explainable…