Friday, January 05, 2007

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 5.3

Author's Note: right now, I'm just angry a bit. Someone broke into my car by smashing the window WHEN THE DOOR WAS ALREADY UNLOCKED!!!!! I don't mind that they were in desperate need of money, but if you're a crook, could you at least make it a little easy for the person you're robbing by not causing unnessary damage to the car.

Oh gawd, I feel a blog entry coming on, cause I need to rant about this, LOL, even though I know no one would care. BTW, guess what, I got on Fox 2 Detroit community website. Go to http://community.myfoxdetroit.com/ and scroll down to Entertainment. My blog is featured there. I felt so elated about that and it made my day a little better, but i was still very upset about the car. I'm going to the sewing store to get some vinyl to get that fixed.

Responses to comments:

Anonymous from 2: Ouch! That was a complete downer, but since that doesn't change the price of tea in China, I really can't argue with you. I'll try to do better.

Offline Reader comment: I'm trying to edit as fast as I can post. Right now I'm hungry because I'm fasting so don't expect a NY Times Best seller. But I'll do better.

@ Ronalda: Guess I'm doing something right. Thank you. And yes, the "Demons that Sin has" was a very good pun. I might take that on the promo trail for this, LOL.

Alright, I'll try to post early tomorrow as well and then Sunday, I'll pop this sucker in a book so you can download what we've read so far, just like usual.

For the newer readers, back in the day before I had Internet at home, you would have to wait all weekend until Monday to find out what was going to happen. So I've come a long way, huh?

Enjoy...

“Dwight Bowman, what the hell did you do to her?” Taylor Bellini asked incredulously.

She was about four years his elder and hell on wheels. Her cousins and even her brothers loved to call her Loki’s daughter because she was a fan of mischief and deceit. She loved to cause havoc in people’s lives and could give a flying fig if it hurt someone or not.

Dwight knew her of well because since he had been with Delano Bellini. There had been rumors that Dalton Bellini, who was CEO of Bellini Enterprises, was looking for a vice-president. It was rumored that Dalton had no intentions of picking a male cousin or brother, which meant he was opening up the way for either a female Bellini (there being only two – Taylor and his sister, Angelina) or someone who worked for the Bellini’s in a powerful position who wasn’t a Bellini. Taylor wanted that position more than anything and was willing to do whatever she had to do in order to get herself to that position.

Dwight was a prime candidate and Delano had gone to bat for him when Dalton had called over to inquire. Of course, word got to Taylor about Dalton’s interest in Dwight and she was not happy.

On every turn, she used the opportunity to either make Dwight look bad or make his deals fall through, but proved to be unsuccessful and it didn’t once make Dwight upset or lose control. He rarely lost his temper for anything. Although Delano had been very peeved when a deal fell through for their company because of Taylor’s mischievous ways and wanted to put her over his knee.

When her deceit couldn’t get to Dwight, she called him gay. Being that she was a woman, the remark didn’t bother him, but the fact that she had screamed it at the top of her lungs at the last family gathering had been embarrassing in itself.

He was not gay! “I didn’t do a damn thing,” he growled now at her as he impatiently
waited outside of the bathroom for Sinclaire to stop throwing up.

“Well, you got that poor girl in there throwing up like crazy all over the place and I’m thinking she might need medical attention. So fess up.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing, except kiss her,” he defended himself.

“And what did you say to her?”

“I told her she was beautiful, smart and I wanted the pleasure of her company.”

Taylor looked taken aback. “That’s it? You told her that?”

“Yes, what’s wrong with that?”

She took his thick arm and forced him to step away from the door to speak in confidence to him. “She doesn’t look like the kind of woman that gets compliments, Dwight. You don’t just go around professing your love to strange women just because I called you gay.”

“I didn’t profess any love to her Taylor. I just expressed what I was feeling.” All his senses told him that Taylor wasn’t trying to help, but for some reason he wanted to hear what she was going to advise him of, because nothing like this had ever happened to him before.
Defensively, he said, “And you calling me gay has nothing to do with approaching her. I just happened to meet her and she … I liked her. What’s wrong with telling her exactly how I feel?”

“Because even I couldn’t believe something like that.”

Sourly, he said, “I don’t lie to get ass.”

“But you’re Dwight Bowman,” Taylor said obviously. “A very prominent man in the
business world not only because of your skills, but just because you are associated with the Bellini Enterprise.” This was said with a lot of arrogance in her voice. “And even if she doesn’t know that, you’re white, overly gorgeous and she doesn’t look like she gets a lot of offers even from ugly men. So you being interested could seem very farfetched.”

He started to turn to the door, but she held firm his arm to prevent him.

She spoke quickly. “Just listen to me, Dwight, and even though you say that comment I made hasn’t affected your judgment, maybe the fact that I said it brought out this desperation to find a woman. I mean Delano told me you’ve been to yourself all these years and it was a valid assumption.”

“No, Taylor, it was cold and cruel, but what can I expect from a frigid bitch?”

She only flinched. “I’m not going to stand here and allow you to say those things to me.”

“I’m not going to listen to you try to convince me that I am only attracted to her out of
desperation. I know what I want and I want her.”

Clicking her tongue in disappointment, she shook her head with a look of disappointment on her face. “Always seeking revenge on the woman who didn’t want you, huh? You’ll never get over Amelia, will you? But you plan on making every other woman’s life miserable to pay her back.” Huffing, she said, “You always get what you want, right, Dwight?”

Still hotly angry about what she had said earlier to him, he arrogantly, said, “Yes, Taylor.”

“Except Amelia begging for your forgiveness and wanting to have you back in her arms no matter how much money you’re worth.”

In all his life, he had never wanted to do physical violence on any woman, but Taylor Bellini
could make the Pope want to commit murder. “Your spoiled silly meddling won’t mean a damn thing just in case you get any ideas of my getting what I want.”

“I think it will when you find out she’s gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone?” he asked alarmed.

Taylor smiled wickedly narrowing her beautiful olive eyes. “I mean she’s left the building. I gave her my car to get home.”

He cursed loud enough for any one in the vicinity to hear him as he charged inside of the woman’s bathroom. Taylor Bellini was a trifling no good bitch, bent on making anyone in association with her cousin’s lives miserable.

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Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 5.3 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

Can you name all the Bellini's and Hearts?

I've challenged my readers to give me as many names as they can think of. The winner will receive a special prize. Send entries to sylviahubbard1@yahoo.com with "Bellini and Hearts" in the subject line. Contest ends Jan 31st 2007.


Post a Comment if You haven't.

I'd love to know what you think...





Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 5.2

Author's Note: No I wasn't trying to be funny with that short post. LOL.

Enjoy...


As she relieved her stomach for the second time, she heard someone knocking on the stall’s door.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asked.

Sinclaire leaned up against the door and peeked through the slit to see Taylor Bellini standing there looking annoyed at the door with her arms folded over her chest.
“I-I’m fine.” Bile had started to rise in her throat again, but she swallowed that down.

“He sent me in here to check on you. Are you really throwing up?”

She emptied her stomach again. ‘He knew!’ Every inch of her wanted to die in shame.

“Oh lawd, you are throwing up. Open this door,” Taylor ordered.

After spitting the bad taste out her mouth, she opened the stall’s door. Taylor was holding a cup of water and a complimentary bottle of mouthwash from the hotel.

“He said to give you this,” Taylor said. “He looks actually concerned. What did he do?”

“Where is he?” Sinclaire asked, holding her stomach after she drunk the water.

“He was standing outside the door.”

Going over to the sink, in a low voice, Sinclaire insisted, “I-I can’t go out there.”

“What did he do?”

“H-He kissed me.”

Taylor looked at her as if Sinclaire was going to say more, but when nothing else was said, she said, “That’s it?”

It did sound silly to get upset over that.

“Are you a nun?” Taylor asked.

“No,” Sinclaire said.

“Are you gay?”

Disgusted, she almost choked on the swig of mouthwash she took. “No.”

“And you got this upset over a kiss?” Taylor handed her a towel to wipe her mouth. “Then you
might really go all out if you knew he had a suite on the top floor of this hotel and the only reason he probably brought you here-“ She stopped because Sinclaire probably looked ready to pass out. “Are you going to be alright now?”

“I can’t go out there,” Sinclaire shuddered terrified and ready to scream wishing she had her backpack. “Please get him away from the door, so I can sneak out.”

“And where will you go?”

“I’ll catch the bus back to my car.”

Taylor visually assessed her and then took out a valet parking ticket. “Take this outside and take the car home. Call me in the morning and we’ll go get your car.”

Stunned that the woman would assist her at all and so generously took Sinclaire completely by surprised. She knew some things about the Bellini family and no one could ever go on record to say that Taylor Bellini was a generous woman. Matter of fact, Taylor had always come across in the press as a spoil, selfish, woman. “You’re letting me take your car?”

“I’ll get it back and I’m not worried about you stealing it because there’s a tracking device. Plus, Dwight Bowman doesn’t deal with theives. I’ll go out there and distract him and you will slip past us.”

“Thank you.” She held the valet ticket to her chest, gratefully.

“Don’t thank me, because once he realizes what I’ve done, he’s going to be real pissed at me, but then he can stand in line along with my other cousin.” Taylor went towards the door.

“Ms. Bellini,” Sinclaire said.

The woman looked over her shoulder at Sinclaire.

“You’re not as mean as the media makes you out to be.”

“I kind of like that everyone thinks I’m a bitch. So don’t go spreading my businesses.” Taylor winked before leaving out.

Sinclaire sighed thankfully staring down at the valet ticket.

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 5.2 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hey, I forgot to mention in chapters 3 and 4 about Michelle the manager at Uniquity. She does have a back story (as if I would have it any other way.) She is the lead character in Stealing Innocence II: The Ravishment.

About Stealing Innocence II: The Ravishment
When Michelle is dealt the ultimate blow of being taken by a dark powerful stranger against her will, she didn’t know how to overcome the hurt inside. That is until Niche, her best friend, finds the stranger for her, ties him to a bed and tell Michelle to take what the stranger took from her – pride.

In his rage to get back at all the skanks in his life, his anger blinded him to the sweet innocent Michelle, but before he even made entry she had passed out. Escaping quietly, Anthony swore he would never hurt another again and to get revenge against those who really messed him up. That is until he is knocked unconscious and then awakens to find out Michelle’s been bitten by the revenge bug and what he thought was a sweet and innocent girl, turns into a lustful hateful woman, who he will kill – if he ever gets away!

Wanna buy a copy? http://www.lulu.com/content/99124. And for those that have purchased a copy, leave a review of the book at the bottom of that link or go to: http://motownwriters.com/steal.html. Thanks!

@ Anonymous from 4.2 (and for everyone else who calls me that) - I'm kinda digging that Queen of Cliffhangers. I might use that in like a big promo campaign. As for Dwight being older, as always in the beginning I'm looking for compatibility in a couple, but a lot of conflict as to why they shouldn't be together as well. His age could be a hindrance which can draw them apart, but his "experience" can be a boon to her "problem." And that's all I have to say about that.

@ Lashonda: Thanks for liking the story and agreeing that I'm doing a great job posting. If you speak to the oldies I would post a chapter a week sometimes, LOL.

@ Suprina : Now that was pretty deep gurl. I'll take that two cents with happiness.

@ Cinquetta: If you find that condition, please email me (sylviahubbard1@yahoo.com) off loop and let me know. Now about Dwight's second child, you'll just have to wait and see. You know I have something up my sleeve.

Okay, I hope to do three posts today. Enjoy...


Just the thought made her shudder. Dwight Bowman kissing her. No! No! He wouldn’t! He couldn’t. She started to tell him exactly that. “And you won’t–“

His lips dipped down and pressed against hers. It wasn’t even in her instincts to fight him because she had never gotten a kiss stolen from a man before. With a shift of his lips and the delicious flavor of his tongue, it was easy to part her lips so that he tasted her and she was caught up by just the wonderful zest and feel of his lips.

He drew away and their eyes met. “I couldn’t help myself, Sinclaire.”

She reached up and touched her mouth as if her lips had disappeared, but then her hand covered her entire mouth and she shoved herself away from him and desperately looked around. Spotting the bathroom, she ran into it.

Before she could take another breath, just as she had gotten into a stall, her stomach released whatever was in her stomach and she almost didn’t aim correctly in the toilet.




Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 5 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard


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Thursday, January 04, 2007

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 4.2

Author's Note: I know you're getting tired of these notes and probaby saying, would you just get on with the durn story. LOL. In case you're new here or just don't remember, I write these live! Which means I just put on paper about an hour or so before posting these. So quit asking me when is the next post. Compared to last year, I think I'm posting doing pretty good.

Also, as you can see, this says, Chapter 4.2. If you're looking for Chapter 4.1, That was Chapter 4 entry and I just didn't add the 4.1 because readers would get made even before reading because they knew I was going to cliff hanger this baby and I would get threatening phone calls and emails about doing awful things to me if I didn't post very very soon. (I still get them on major cliffhangers, but not so vicious, LOL).

I had some responses from other comments:

@ Anonymous (about Dwight) you should know his age through this entry

@Chandra -(1st issue) send me your dimensions and then I'll see what I can do for you on my next book. (2nd issue) if you look to the left of the page, I changed the donation box again for "sizable donations."

@ Suprina thank you for enjoying the story (that goes out to everyone else who said that too.) I'm enjoying that it too, but like I said before, I make this up as I go. (I'm serious about that). So I don't even know why she cuts herself. (Of course we'll find out why as the story unfolds though cause I'm just as curious as you.)

I know that sound crazy, but really I have no forethought when I venture in these stories except I know that two people will fall in love and one person will most likely die. (And I really don't know who yet so don't you dare call me back and ask me about it - you know who you are.)

As always, enjoy....




Her ears were acting up again, she was sure of it. “The flowers are yours, Michelle?” Sinclaire asked, just knowing she had heard wrong.

“No, they came today for you.” Michelle handed her two cards. “These were with them. I just marked the time they came. By two different florists!”

Sinclaire was again struck speechless as she slowly opened her first ever card from someone. This was the first time in her life someone had given her flowers.

I hope you are still thinking positively about having dinner with me. DB.

Tears began to cloud her eyes as she opened up the second envelope that had come three hours after the first.

I should also let you know, I’m not a patient man either, so hurry up.DB.

She burst out laughing. Whether it was just happiness, glee or amusement, she didn’t know and she didn’t care. She got roses!

“What did you do?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t know.” Sinclaire was completely flustered. “Just my job, I guess.” She felt so unsure of herself and there were just too many emotions to even try to think straight.

“From the little that I know of him, he’s … aloof.” Michelle shifted her weight slightly as if she were uncomfortable to speak on him. “I hear Niche’s friends speak on him because he’s real
good at finance retrieval.”

“How old is he?” Sinclaire inquired curiously. ‘What do you care?! You are not good enough for him!’ Mel’s voice bellowed in her head. She forced herself to remain focus. Her
mother’s voice, even imaginary, was always upsetting.

“I think almost forty, but I saw him in this local business magazine and he does not look at all near that age.” She dug around her office and found a very prominent business magazine with Dwight on the cover looking damn good in a tailored made business suit. Opening up the magazine, Michelle begin to read aloud about him. “Born and raised in Chicago, Dwight earned his right to be good at what he does by retrieving over four hundred billion dollars worth of debt for companies all over the world. His finance retrieval skills and his accounting degree has helped companies in better business. Divorced with children, Dwight says his move to Detroit will not only be a major business change, but he hopes to make personal changes as well.” She looked up and winked mischievously as she closed he magazine. “Sounds like a man ready to settle down.”

Sinclaire’s stomach churned and she felt the familiar pulsing that she could never control. “I-I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Are you alright?” Michelle asked worriedly.

“Yes,” she lied, but she didn’t want to feel elated anymore. Not if it made her …

Without speaking anymore, Sinclaire left out the office and found the employees bathroom right away. She locked herself in the stall and took out a pencil case that had a smaller version of her silver case at home. This was the emergency kit. The one that most times she kept like a Linus Blanket, but used every blue moon. This one had not been used in a long while, but nothing like Dwight Bowman had stepped into her life.

Out loud she asked herself, "I thought you said after the last time you wouldn't do it anymore? You can fight this."

But as usual those words fell on deaf ears as she concentrated on cleaning the inside of her thigh.
The cut she had made just last night was still there and it stung when she wiped the alcohol over it, but the burn was necessary. She needed the pain.

‘Forget him,’ Mel’s voice whispered in her head. ‘You don’t deserve anyone. You are fat and ugly.’

Tears welled in her eyes and she could barely see as she took the blade out. The pencil bag fell off her leg hitting her backpack and the cards Dwight had given her fell out on the floor.

She pulled the blade back just before she was about to cut herself, to wipe the tears out of her eyes so she could see. Her eyes focused on the card.

I hope you are still thinking positively about having dinner with me. DB.

‘Can have dinner with him?!’ she told herself.

“Why not?” she asked aloud.

Picking up the card, she read his note again.

“No I’m not still thinking about having dinner with you, Mr. Bowmen.” She spoke as if he were standing there. “I can’t because you’ll look at my fat face up close and won’t like me.”

‘Is that what you’re going to tell him?’

“No,” she answered herself. “I’ll tell him I have school and I don’t have time.”

The feelings that had overwhelmed her in Michelle’s office had dissipated, so she promptly but the blade away and applied the band-aid to the day old wound she had inflicted on herself.

Her night was disturbing because she couldn’t concentrate on her studies. After closing, while she waited for Michelle to finish the office paper work for the past two nights, Sinclaire took out the business card of Dwight Bowmen and tore it to pieces.

The finality of her decision made strange pains in her chest and her gut felt as if she was
going to throw up, but she had to make a choice. School or a relationship and if anyone was going to take her seriously – especially her mother, she had to focus on school.

Alone or not, when she gained her law degree she’d be respected and treated as if she mattered in this world… and she wouldn’t need Mel to care after all this was over.

The phone rung just as Michelle was closing up the safe. They looked at each other

strangely because no one called the store after it closed.

“Should we answer it?” Sinclaire asked.

Michelle walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver. “Hello? Uniquity Boutique, how may I help you?” She was frowning deeply, but then her frown dissipated. “Well, yes I know you… We were just about to leave… Oh no, it’s not a requirement, but –“ She was cut off and at first she looked upset. The next moment she laughed and said, “Well, I don’t know because I don’t ask my employees about their personal business… you’ll have to ask her yourself.” She handed the receiver to Sinclaire. “It’s for you.”

She mouthed the words, “Me?”

Michelle nodded.

“Who is it?” Sinclaire mouthed without voice.

Her manager whispered, “I was told not to tell you, but I can’t order you to take the phone.”

Curious, she took the phone and put it to her ear to see if she could hear anything. Nothing! “Hello?”

“You didn’t actually think I’d take no for an answer,” Dwight asked on the other end of the phone.

Did someone just inject a gallon of butterflies in her stomach? “I don’t think you like that word, but my answer is still-“

“Before you say another word, Sinclaire, I should let you know that since it seems you haven’t been out in the dating world in a while, that it’s bad etiquette to refuse someone over the phone.”

How did he know whether she’s been out in the dating world or not? Although in truth, she hadn’t been out in the dating world at all, but she didn’t want to seem ignorant. “So I’m supposed to find you and tell you what I need to tell you? Why can’t I say it over the phone?”

“The same reason you don’t walk to the left. You just don’t do it. So why don’t you come refuse me tonight and you never have to set eyes or ears upon me again,” he promised.

“So if I don’t come, you’ll continue to call me every night.”

“And don’t forget the flowers,” he reminded her.

Disquieted, over his persistence, she said sarcastically, “Oh no, we wouldn’t forget that.”

“I’d double the order every day until you accepted.”

“I’m almost inclined to keep refusing since I’ve never gotten them.”

“I’m very persistent.”

Sinclaire sighed knowing it was wrong to keep Michelle in the store when it was so late and she knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer over the phone. “Fine, where?”

“The Hyatt. Come to the bar. That’s not far.”

That was right near the mall. “Are you stalking me?” she asked suspiciously.

“Never that,” he said as if it were the craziest thing in the world. “I had a client meeting over here and it lasted longer than I thought, so I thought I’d call to remind you that I’m waiting for your answer, but I realized I didn’t have a number to contact you, accept by phone at the store.”

She believed him. “I’ll come and you’ve got to promise not to call me at my job anymore.”

“You’ll come now?” he verified.

“Yes!” Sinclaire slammed down the phone and huffed in anger. “He’s so persistent!”

“It’s Dwight Bowman. I heard he’d ride the Pope to death if it concerned business. I heard that no one has ever reneged on any loan when Dwight was involved in it,” Michelle said.

They started to walk out the mall.

“Why?” Sinclaire said.

“Let’s just say that Dwight Bowman is just a thug in a suit. Grown, albeit but according to my husband he use to run the streets for King Heart out of Chicago collecting on debts before he came to join with Delano Bellini, come to Detroit and decide to become legit. King was upset Dwight left because the man could squeeze water out of a rock if he was paid enough.”

“Are you saying he runs a loan sharking business?”

“No. He runs an investment company. This company lends the money out and gets it back while the another partner invest the money in real estate and bonds.”

“But he’s the muscle man.”

“You could say, but my husband’s never met him, so don’t take his word for it. It’s all just
gossip fodder. The man could be a big ole’ pussy cat.’

“I’m not going to meet him! Not after what you just told me,” Sinclaire said.

By this time they had walked to the cars.

“You promised, Sinclaire, and you aren’t about to break a promise to that man so he can be sitting outside my store every night stalking you. He’s rich… no, he’s wealthy… overly wealthy and he’s very interested in you, so take a bite out of that wealth and get you some fun along with a great education.” Michelle stopped walking and gently held Sinclaire’s arm to get her to face her. “He’s a man. He puts his pants on one leg at a time. But most of all, he’s just like the first man. Entranced by what you have between your thighs. Relish that thought, Sin, because that’s going to get you to dig down within yourself and find your power within so you don’t take shit from him or anyone else. You’re a woman and don’t you ever let him forget it.”

Sinclaire forced herself to take a deep breath. It actually felt much better once she let Michelle’s words soak in.

Getting to her car that had the dozen roses packed on the backseat, which she had brought out earlier on her shift, Sinclaire knew that in order to focus on what she needed to do in life, she had to get rid of him.

‘Do you know how crazy that sounds?’ For the first time in her life a man – a very handsome, sexy and wealthy man was paying attention to her.

The timing was all wrong. She couldn’t focus on law school and him at the same time.

Driving over to the Hyatt, she found the bar immediately. He spotted her before she spotted him and walked up to her. Dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit, he still looked as gorgeous as he had the first time. Walking next to him was an Italian dark skinned man, who looked like a light skinned black man, but she could see the sharp features and the pitch-black wavy hair. Plus, she was very aware of whom he was. Delano Bellini was part of a very prominent Hispanic and Italian mixed family, who owned over seventy billion dollars worth of real estate in the world, a famous winery in Italy, and The St. Royal Hotel and Cruise Line, which was geared toward minorities.

Dwight walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek, while hugging her, catching her completely off guard. “Sinclaire, this is one of my partners, Delano Bellini.”

She was still a little discombobulated from the affection Dwight had just shown, but she stretched out her hand and shook Delano’s strong grip. He was just as tall as Dwight, but brawny with a sort of perfect linebacker body. There was a sort of cruel look to his olive green eyes that were weirdly similar to Dwight’s and they had similar good looks except for the sharp features. But she didn’t point this out to them.

“Pleasure, Sinclaire,” Delano said briefly and then turned his attention to Dwight. “I’ll take the car back to the hotel, because I have a stop to make. Do you mind taking the limousine?”

“No,” Dwight said.

When Delano was gone, she turned to him to make her announcement. “Now, as I wanted to say over the phone-“ She stopped what she was saying because he was giving her a hard
serious look that made her stop what she was saying. “What?”

“We really must work on your public skills, Sinclaire.”

Guiltily she took comfort in his proximity and liked how people’s heads turned at seeing her with him. He gently took her hand and led her outside to a limousine.

She halted her step. “Where are we going?”

“Where you can properly break up with me,” he said obviously as if she should know.

The driver opened the door to the limousine and Sinclaire got inside more curious to see the inside of a limousine than breaking this thing off with Dwight. It was her first time inside one and she was able to see the spacious luxurious cabin before Dwight got inside and the door was closed turning the inner light off.

“Now?” she asked, looking at him. Albeit the dimness, she could still see that he was looking at her with a sort of greedy happy expression.

“Not yet. Are you thirsty?”

The car began to move.

Nervously, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“I told you. Are you thirsty?” he asked again.

“No! Mr. Bowman-“

He cut her off, “Dwight,” he insisted.

“Dwight, I really think we should … This car needs to stop!”

His tone of voice was oddly calm despite her almost hysterical tone. “It will,” he promised. “But some place proper. Are you hungry? I am starving. I didn’t eat with the client. I never do. I like to do business first.”

“I find that hard to believe since we aren’t handling our business first and no I’m not hungry.” That was a first, but she was too upset to do anything and she had left her backpack in the car.
Forwardly, he reached up and cupped her cheek as if he couldn’t help himself. The feeling of his warm palm against her skin excited her all over and it took all her willpower not to lean into his
hand.

“Did you like the roses?” he asked casually.

Moving his hand away and coming back to reality, Sinclaire looked out the back window to see her car getting further and further away and worrying about how she was going to get back home.

“Sinclaire,” he said. “Did you like the roses?”

“Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you, but you can’t send me them anymore.”

“Yes, I know sending them at your job was inappropriate, but if you would give me your home address, I could send them there.”

“No!” she said firmly. “I can’t do that because-“

He cut her off again. “I haven’t been with a woman in twelve years.”

This caught her off guard. “Why?” she couldn’t help asking.

“My wife left me, because I couldn’t rub two quarters together. Left me with two children to raise, and I told myself I’d focus on raising them and making sure I had enough quarters to make her come back to me.”

“Did she?”

“I was young and stupidly in love. I raised my kids without asking her for a dime and now that I have the wealth, I know I’m a better man than to even let her come in my life.”

“That still doesn’t explain your reasons to not be with a woman,” she pointed out.

“Money recovery is a very lonely life. The women you meet are usually the ones people send to your hotel room when they are trying to coherence you into forgetting they owe a debt. I’ve matured from that and don’t make sharing myself with just anyone. You don’t make many friends when you force old ladies out on the street or close down family businesses in order to recovery a debt, but I don’t mind being the bad guy. I had to be in order to survive. Yet, women seem to find me unattractive because of the job that I do.”

“So you approach strange women and tell them how beautiful they are?” she asked sardonically.

He smiled his gorgeous smile in amusement not taking her wicked tone seriously. “No, Sinclaire, you are fate. A very beautiful wonderful fate and one that I would desire to know better if you give me a chance.”

“This is a bad time in my life. I’m six months from taking the bar.”

“I am a busy man as well and I don’t intend on taking up any extra amounts of your time.”

Why did that sound so reasonable? ‘Because you want it to.’

Her stomach twittered furiously. “You aren’t going to make me change my mind.”

“I wouldn’t dare change a woman’s mind when she’s so dead set against refusing me, but I can make you understand that I don’t just approach anyone and the fact that I approached you should be considered.”

Before she could respond to that arrogant statement, the driver said, “We’re here, Mr. Bowman.”

She had been so consumed by his proximity and conversation; she had paid little attention to where they had been going. They were in front of another hotel – The St. Royal near Downtown Detroit - A five star hotel that had suites ranging from $150 to $1000 dollar a night.

“Why are we here?” she questioned.

He didn’t answer her and she reluctantly followed him out the limousine, which promptly pulled away once they had stepped out. Gently, he took her hand again and smiled down at her as if he were honored to have her in his presence.

‘Did he make all the women he was around feel like a queen?’ She wondered as she freely allowed him to guide her in the lobby.

“Dwight Bowmen with a woman?” a woman’s sharp voice sneered as they headed to the restaurant.

Dwight reluctantly looked away from Sinclaire to focus on the five foot two Italian woman looking like she had a large chip on her shoulder. “Ms Taylor Bellini, what are you doing in Detroit?”

“Same thing you are. When my cousin decides to move you know everyone has to move as well. Mamma’s not happy, but she sees the benefits. We go where the money is.” The woman had not stopped looking at Sinclaire. She was the spitting image of Delano Bellini, but all woman. Slim, cover model beautiful Italian-Hispanic heritage that was brought out a sultry sensual woman that carried dominance clearly on her sleeve.

“This is Sinclaire-“

Taylor sneered cut him off. “Did you pick up this one-“

“Watch it, Taylor Bellini,” Dwight said in a very deadly low tone narrowing his beautiful eyes that had become a shade of dark green brown.

Taylor, amused bit her lip and looked at Sinclaire. “Watch yourself, girl. Don’t let that charm fool you.” She walked away.

“Should I be worried?” Sinclaire asked.

Dwight moved his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him. “Of Taylor, yes. Of your safety, no. That’s not why we’re here.” His arm smoothly moved around her waist to draw her close. “Please don’t let her ruin this evening, Sinclaire.”

“This is not an evening, Dwight.” She pushed away slightly from him to compose her mental state, but was still very close because his arms were still around her waist. “I should be honored and enamored by your advances, but at this time I cannot accept them.” If he only knew what was going on between her legs, he would have definitely known she was the biggest liar in the world. “I have to concentrate on my school and I can’t if you’re distracting me.”

“How am I a distraction?” he asked as if the notion was ridiculous. “I haven’t even kissed you.”

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 4.2 (c) Sylvia Hubbard

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Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 4

Author's Note: lots of people ask me (offline) why am I giving away another story for free. If you look to the left of the screen you'll see a paypal button that is asking you to donate. This year, I want to use all my earnings to support my goal to be a bestseller. As usual I need your assistance and I'd be so happy if you would help me out.

@ Chandra: the weight factor. You must read a lot of I/R's. But seriously, the weight factor is more or less apart of us large voluptuous girls. Since I gave Sinclaire's my body type, I sympathize more with her. To some people I've viewed as fat because anything above a size ten is fat. I know i'm about thirty pounds over what they say should be my weight and if I gave up the junk food and pop (that's what Michiganders call soda) I probably would be able to lose the excess weight lodged in my butt and hips. Until then I will carry the weight. But on the other end of the spectrum, guys seem attracted to (their words) phat butt and don't see what I see. They see me as voluptuous and beautiful. So it is all in the eye of the beholder. In some cases, Fat can be voluptuous.

@ Marlena : Thank you in advance for the donation to help pay for my publicist. I need it so desperately. And no you didn't sound crazy over the phone. I enjoyed knowing you enjoyed my work. Thank you so much for your support and your call really made my day. And yes, OMG, it was me!

Okay, that's it for now. Enjoy...


The ringing of her cell phone forced her off of the couch and she sleepily dug around her apartment to find her coat she had dropped at the door to answer the phone before it went to voicemail.

“About time,” Mel said impatiently.

“Good morning to you to, Mother,” Sinclaire said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes to hurry up to see the time. The dollar store loud ticking clock hanging on the wall across the room read six a.m.

“What is so good about it?” she sighed impatiently. “I’m going to have some company this weekend and I just wanted to let you know in advance, I won’t be here.”

This was really her mother saying she didn’t want Sinclaire around to embarrass her.

“Thanks for the heads up, Mother, is that it?”

“What were you doing for the holidays?”

This was different for Mel to ask. She never cared. “Nothing, Mother.”

“I’ve gotten an offer to stay in Chicago, but I can’t use the reservation. Jackson said I should give them to you.”

This was definitely different. “Just one ticket.”

“There are two, but I know you don’t have someone.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mother. I’ll take both of them.”

“Why?”

“Since you aren’t using them, I’ll take them both.”

Mel huffed, “You’ll probably need two tickets for the plane anyway because your ass is so fat.”

She tried to ignore her mother’s nasty remark. “I can come by this afternoon to-“

“No,” Mel said abruptly. “I’ll have a messenger drop them off to your job. You still work at that silly store, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mel didn’t bother saying goodbye.

As an afterthought in the morning, Sinclaire stepped on the scale. No weight loss had taken place since starting her vitamin shake diet four months ago. Going to the refrigerator, she threw out all her lunchtime diet shakes and then made a cup of coffee using her microwave and grabbed a muffin from the top of the refrigerator.

In the middle of the day, she got a call from her job, but she didn’t see this call until after three p.m. when she turned on her phone. Actually her job called four times and she worried about what was going on.

Calling the store back, Michelle picked up the phone.

“Is everything okay?” Sinclaire asked.

“Yes and no, Sinclaire,” she said. “That customer you helped was Dwight Bowman.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You don’t know Dwight Bowman?”

“I’m sorry I don’t, Michelle.”

“He’s part owner of one of the largest minority private banks in the Midwest. He partner and CFO of Bowman and Bellini. They help minority businesses and give grants.”

That was impressive.

‘That is still not a good reason to call him,’ she hissed to herself.

“Okay, so what did I do wrong?” she asked Michelle worriedly.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Sinclaire. I just can’t figure out what you did right.”

“I’m not understanding.”

Michelle grunted in frustration. “I know you’re at school, but just get here as soon as possible.”

Sinclaire couldn’t understand what she could have possibly done to make him do something to make her manager so frustrated. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Michelle,” she promised.

An hour and a half later, she was nervously on her way to work still wondering what she had done. Had Mel sent something to the store to jeopardize her job?!

Arriving at the store, the day shift looked at her funny and giggled. She was directed to go straight to Michelle’s office. Upon entering the smell of bright red roses hit her nose and she was almost green with envy at the beautiful two dozen roses on Michelle’s desk.

‘As if you would ever get any,’ her subconscious sneered that was similar to Mel’s voice.

“There you are!” Michelle said, handing her an envelope. “This was delivered this morning.”

It was the tickets for Thanksgiving from her mother. “Oh shute, Michelle. I just remembered I agreed to help you for Black Friday and I accepted this trip from my mother.”

Michelle looked deeply upset. “Well, I’ll understand-“

“No, I’ll see if I can give them to someone else. I made a promise to you.” She relaxed. “Is this all? I thought I was in deep trouble.”

“No, that isn’t it,” Michelle said.

Her worry started again. “I gave good instructions about the package, didn’t I?” Sinclaire asked worriedly.

“Yes, his assistant called this morning with the address. I got the packages out right away.” She waved this away as if it were nothing.

“Then what did I do wrong?”

Michelle sighed. “I’m sorry, Sinclaire, I didn’t mean to make you worry. I was just over excited about… well these.” She pointed to the flowers.

Trying not to show jealousy over the beautiful two dozen bouquets of flowers, she forced herself to smile as if she were happy for Michelle. They must have cost a fortune this time of year.
“Yeah, they’re nice, Michelle.” She put the envelope in her bag. “Well, I better get clocked in.”

“Aren’t you going to take your gift?” Michelle asked incredulously.

“I did.” She patted her bag. “I put the envelope in my bag.”

“Sinclaire, these flowers are yours!”



Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 4 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

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Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 3

Author Note: Okay, I had a list of names of people on my mailing list and I believe I made a mistake and deleted those names. So if you were not alerted as to the update of this post, please forgive me and resubscribe again to this blog by going to:
http://forms5.createforms.com/26333/form_1_1.html

Sorry bout that. Enjoy...

Her head was spinning seriously and she didn’t think she could breath in enough air to cover the massive overload requested suddenly.

Gripping the front of her shirt whether in excitement or exasperation, she forced her breathing steady so she wouldn’t stutter when she spoke. “I’m sorry,” she said, just knowing she heard him wrong. “W-What did you say?”

“I want to take you out for dinner?”

“I can’t date customers,” she said obviously. It wasn’t a law. Michelle had never said this, but Sinclaire wasn’t a fool. ‘You don’t shit where you eat,’ Momma Gerty said.

“Is it a policy?” he asked suspiciously not liking her negative answer.

‘Maybe this was some cruel joke and he needed a charity to support. You’re big enough’ The last was said sounding very much like Mel.

Sinclaire was not going to be his monthly charity case. Was this how a busy man got ass? Take an ugly chick out just to get some? ‘Ain’t nothing a light switch can’t fix!’ Momma Gerty’s voice shouted in Sinclaire’s head. But at the time the old lady wasn’t talking about Sinclaire’s face. She was actually referring to Mel who’d do anyone with enough money.

It wasn’t in her nature to lie just to avoid something. “No, it’s not policy, but I just don’t date customers.”

“I don’t date people who work in retail stores, but I do date very beautiful smart women.”

‘Don’t you dare let him see you affected!’ She bit her lip to fight the blush. “Mr. Bowman-“

He leaned on the counter and gave her a very serious look to make her stop speaking. “Before you find reason to reject me, let me say that I don’t like the word no when it’s something I really want and I want the pleasurable company of dining with you, Sinclaire. I find you refreshing and different and I feel now that I’m overwhelmingly impressed by the fact that you do possess intelligence – although your common sense was just fascinating in itself. I can’t allow this to be the only experience that I see myself talking to you in my entire life. So I would like you to please reconsider the offer, think about it and then call me with your answer.” He handed her his business card.

Hesitantly, she took the card, still looking warily at him as if he were going to snatch it back and scream, “Syke!” and then a hundred cameras would come out of no where and some one would yell, “Sinclaire McGentry, you just got punked.”

But no one came out as she took the card and looked at it to see his name: Dwight Bowman, Esquire, CFO of Bowman and Bellini Investments.

“How long should I think about it before I call you and still tell you no?” she asked.

“A day or so or until you want it to be yes,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

She rolled her eyes as if this was still some type of sick joke. “I’ll think about it,” she promised.

“That’s all I can ask.” His phone rung and he again frowned at the screen. “I have to take this call, but I’ll be hearing from you soon.”

It wasn’t a question or a request and Sinclaire watched the back of him until he was out of sight.

Slumping in the chair looking down at the business card, she felt conflicted, confused and very frustrated. On one hand she wanted to call him, but on the other hand, she seriously wondered what had she done to deserve someone like him.

Going around the counter, she looked at herself in a nearby mirror trying to see if there was something different about herself. Michelle always required them to look professional in dress when working, but tonight was no different than any other night on what she was wearing.

On top of that, she had the ugly reading glasses still on!

‘Maybe those gorgeous eyes of his was blind,’ she said to herself.

No, his eye contact was too direct. He had been looking at her! Directly at her! All over!!

Her body still felt hot just thinking of that lustful look that was in his eyes.

‘This was crazy,’ she told herself and began closing procedures to keep her mind off Dwight Bowman.

Soon it was time for the store to close and she went through the motions of doing everything she needed to do in order to get everything done.

Nothing out the ordinary happened the rest of the night and when she wasn’t thinking of the store closing procedures, she forced herself to think about her cases. There was a lot to remember and the forcing helped her to remember with key words.

On the way out, she passed by the main department store and could smell a familiar scent.

Stopping immediately, she looked inside the doorway to see the cologne counter. The guard was standing by the door so she knew she couldn’t just step into it.

“Sinclaire!” she heard her name being called.

Looking through the gate that had been pulled down, Lena was running to the gate. They were about the same body type except Lena had dark caramel skin and shoulder length hair, which she usually kept a wig on or in a ponytail. Being a single mother struggling never gave her the luxury of going to the hair dresser all the time.

“Hi!” Sinclaire said unexpectedly.

“I’m so glad you stopped by here,” Lena said relieved. “I need a ride to my other job. Someone didn’t show up for their shift and I had to stay to keep my department opened.”

Sinclaire’s eyes traveled over to the counter because the scent was clearly bothering her. Lena followed her gaze.

“Want to come in?” Lena asked concerned.

“Uh… no, I was…”

Lena motioned to the guard to raise the security gate. “If you take me home, you can walk out with me and be real close to where you park.”

“Sure, Lena,” Sinclaire agreed. “That’s no problem.”

“Good.” Lena ushered her in and Sinclaire found herself stopping over at the cologne’s unable to stop smelling that scent.

“Is there something you’re looking for Sinclaire?” Lena asked becoming worried.

Picking up several scents, she found the familiar scent that he had on. “What’s this?”

Lena looked at the area she had picked up the bottle. “That’s Versace Man,” she answered leaning over and smelling it with Sinclaire.

“It smells wonderful.” It was the cologne Dwight had been wearing.

“It better for fifty dollars an ounce.”

Sinclaire almost dropped the bottle. When she put it back down, she asked, “When did you start working here?”

Lena was still chuckling from Sinclaire’s shocked expression at the cost of the perfume bottles. “After they cut down the bus service, I couldn’t do my other afternoon job and be on time to my night job at the casino. I missed the last bus to get my to my job, can you take me
downtown?”

“Sure.”

Lena looked very grateful. “I’ll give you gas money.”

“It’s not a problem.”

After Lena closed down her station, they made it out into the chilly air of Metro Detroit. They got in the car and she started driving toward Downtown Detroit.

“You know I meet a lot of eligible men at the casino.”

Before Lena could finish that sentence, Sinclaire firmly said, “No!” she said firmly.

“You know, you keep to yourself too much, Sin, and the fact that you haven’t had any kids is a hindrance.”

Sinclaire glanced at her and then back at the road. “Hindrance? That’s a pretty big word for a high school drop out, Lena.”

“I won’t let you try to dissuade me with your smart mouth, Sin. You need a man and the times are changing. They look at sistah’s now in wariness if you don’t have kids by your age.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“You sure?”

“Lena, I’m less than six months away from taking the bar and I won’t let a man get in the way of that.”

“Then what? You’ll be this successful lawyer with no time for any man and then you’ll wake up one day and say, oh dear, I just wished I had listened to Lena.”

“If that ever happens, I’ll call you up and adopt one of yours. You’re always trying to sell me one.”

Lena smiled wickedly. “You know I still got that special, buy one, get one free.”

They burst out in laughter. Lena could always make her laugh. In another life, the single mother could have been a wonderful comedian and Sinclaire often wondered what were Lena's dreams and intentions, but with her busy life, she never found the time to ask her.

On paper, Lena was just another statistic. Single struggling mother. She didn't make enough to get what she wanted and she made too much to get on welfare. Stuck in the middle she survived as best she could with what she could do.

After dropping Lena off, Sinclaire headed home. Before going downstairs, she checked the property and saw that someone had left a post it note in the box about renting the downstairs apartment

She yawned before she opened the door to her place. After taking a shower, she went to the couch again, dragged her schoolbag on her lap, took out all her books and then began to study once again until she fell asleep.



Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 3 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 2

Author's Note: 12 emails! Good lawd! 12 emails over the color of our newest man, Dwight. (And yes I changed his name from the synopsis as well too.) For some reason as I was laying out the story in my head, I changed his color. So when i started writing, which was a day before I posted, Dwight (formerly Christopher to my slower catcher uppers) he was black with a Brian McNight feel. But on paper, Dwight turned white Clive Owens. And I changed the cover up as well. Amazing what technology can do. I hope this does not deter you from reading. I swear it gets good.

Also, responses to other emails and comments: No I don't like Mel either.

And yes I'm still accepting entries into the Heart and Bellini Contest. I'm trying to get a family tree going on the website and if any one knows of a family tree html I can work with or a website were I can set it up, please let me know. The contest is that You have to guess the most characters. Right now, someone has guess I think twelve (I said I think. I gotta go back and count again, but send your entry in cause you might name someone I forgot about) last I counted and I'll end the contest at the end of this month so email me your entries naming the most Heart and Bellini Characters in my books and send the entries to sylviahubbard1@yahoo.com

Okay, enjoy...

She was struck speechless that a man of his caliber was in the store, but then determined that he was probably there to buy something for his skinny little girlfriend.


“Can I help you?” she asked. The words had popped out her mouth rather harsh, but she wasn’t about to apologize.


He didn’t seem bothered by her tone. “I need to buy some items for a young lady about a size six, I believe,” he said under his breath as if there were a room full of people trying to listen to them.


Coming around the counter, she composed herself to gather her animosity for this rich ass Sugar Daddy’s spoiling his mistresses. ‘That’s his business,’ she said to herself. Quickly she checked his ring finger and saw it was empty and there was no mark on it. There was no mistaken that he was cute, albeit he was white, but she wasn’t going to flirt with a man buying clothes for another woman. That’s just sick.


‘Why do you want to flirt at all?’ her mind fussed. ‘We don’t need them. We have a law degree to obtain!’


Didn’t matter because he was still a fool to spend his money on a woman he didn’t sound like he wanted to marry.


“We just got in a new line of dresses from New York I think she’ll like,” she said plastering a fake smile on her face.


“I wasn’t looking for dresses,” he said.


She turned to him frowning. “What were you looking for?”


He stepped up uncomfortably close to her. “Bras. She needs girlie bras.” He looked really embarrassed.


“What size is she again?”


“Size six.”


Sinclaire forced herself not to laugh because he didn’t understand her. “No, I meant what size is her chest. Her bra size.”


He blushed and looked even more handsome. “I-I couldn’t even tell you. She’s just seventeen going on eighteen.”


Oh gawd! A pedophile?! Maybe she should call the police on him. Just in case she needed to make a report on how he looked, Sinclaire took a really good look at him while she led him over to their lingerie section with her peripheral vision.


He was exactly six feet two, broad shoulders and a thickness about him that she couldn’t tell was fat or muscle. No facial hair and looking freshly groomed, she could tell his hands even looked manicured. A clean psycho? What a good oxymoron.


Still good looking. Now even better on the second glance.


How many kids did he really get with that gorgeous white smile, from those thick lips? Were they as soft as they looked?


‘Stop that! He’s a pervert, Sinclaire!’ she scolded herself and continued with her observation.


There was no dunlap around the belt around, but his long coat didn’t help her really assessed his true body dimensions. Very well dressed now that she noticed and he smelled of amber, oak and … something unique that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she wasn’t going to turn around and bury her nose in his neck to find out what was that scent. Plus that would mean she would have to stand on her tiptoes to even get to his neck.


She remembered Momma Gerty had a box of scents and often had the house filled with scents. The old woman believed the different scents provided health benefits for her ailments and it worked for a while to make Momma Gerty happy, but then the pain became too much and nothing, not even the morphine made it stop.


“Do they have to look so …” He was lost for words as he looked over the selection.
“You said you wanted girlie,” she snipped.


He shot her a cautious tone picking up her harshness. “Are you having a bad night?” he questioned.


“No, are you?”


“Actually, I am. My daughter didn’t like the selection my assistant picked out and I never saw her so angry with me before. She accused me of buying granny underwear.” He frowned very bothered. “She’s never made a big thing about underwear before. Are all women like this?”


Sinclaire looked at him in disbelief. “You’re getting underwear for your daughter?”


“Yes.”


Looking relieved, she said, “That’s good.”

He raised a brow.

“I-I mean, I wasn’t interested in you like that. I thought you were a pervert,” she blurted out and then gasped in embarrassment.

He frowned disturbed. “I’d much rather you were interested in me.”

She wanted to die in embarrassment, as it suddenly felt really hot in there. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It explains your attitude,” he said smirking.

Changing the subject, she asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know her cup size, would you, sir?”

“Please call me Mr. Bowman, and no. I don’t go around looking at my daughter’s breast.” He flushed in his own embarrassment. “But I cannot go home until I get something.”

Wanting to help, she looked around the store to see if there was anything to help him with. All the dummies had been taken off the floor to be cleaned and they were the only ones in the store. “Is she well developed?”

“What’s well developed for a seventeen year old?”

This was more difficult that she thought and with no model around, she only had one solution. “Y-You could look at mine and compare.”

“Now?”

Feeling really self-conscious, she almost crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, now, through my clothes. Unless you’ve seen her breast naked?” she asked sarcastically.

“No!” he said disgustedly.

“So in order to do this right, you’re going to have to tell me her measurements.”

“I don’t know her measurements.”

“Well, compared to me, how small is she?”

His blushes were making him more and more adorable. “I’d have to… hug you to know that.”

This didn’t sound as bad as it seemed. “Okay.”

He took off his coat and she knew positively he didn’t have an inch of fat on his body! “Ready?” he asked as if preparing for battle as he laid his coat over a clothing rack.

She just hoped no one came in the store and embarrassed them both. “Sure.”

Stepping to her, he confidently moved his arms around her waist and looked down at her. “You’re shorter than she is,” he noted.

Nervously she rested her hands on his thick arms and hoped he didn’t notice her nipples had hardened. He smelled even better up close and it took all her will power not to bury her face in his chest. “Her bra size has nothing to do with my height, Mr. Bowman.” It was so difficult to make eye contact. He was too close and her body was quickly reacting to his proximity. ‘Don’t you dare move your hips!’ her mind screamed at her body.

“You’re going to have to put your arms around my neck then,” he said.

Yes, her hands were shaking as she rose up on her tiptoes to move her arms around his neck.

“What was that?” he asked.

‘Oh gawd! You did not just whimper!’ She wanted to die in shame. “N-Nothing. Is this helping you?”

He pursed his lips together and she gasped as he held her tighter. “You’re a lot fuller than she is. A whole lot.”

Was he making fun of her size? “I’m a grown woman,” she said stiffly.

“Really?” His arms tightened around her unusual lean waist that accentuated her full hourglass figure. “How old?”

“Twenty-four, but this has nothing to do with your daughter.”

He chuckled, drawing her close and for some reason his face seemed closer to hers. “I know, but that pervert remark just irked me more than I thought.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir, truly,” she said remorsefully, relaxing in his arms.

“Then you shouldn’t mind accommodating me.”

“No, I shouldn’t,” she agreed, but probably because of the heady smell that was hypnotizing her into whatever submission he requested.

“So how thick are you?”

She knew she was blushing so bad. “I’m a thirty-two double D-Cup.”

“What are the cup sizes between?”

It took all her effort not the make her voice quiver.

Those deep olive green eyes of his looked down at her chest and she knew she had died and the quickening of her heart was making her stay conscious. “No, she’s smaller. About a thirty-two … and I’d say just an C.”

“Good. Then we can find something she would like,” she said with relief knowing he was going to let her go soon so she wouldn’t embarrass herself anymore.

He didn’t release her.

Did he enjoy this as much as she?

“Mr. Bowman, you can let me go now.”

“Oh yes,” he said, abruptly releasing her and turned away slightly to put his coat on. She heard him clear his throat, but that was about it as she too straightened herself and gained her composure.

“I could pick them out for you,” Sinclaire suggested as he turned back around to her.

“Sure,” he said staring at her as if he knew a secret, but didn’t want to tell.

She turned her back to him as she picked out several bras. For some reason she could feel the heat of his beautiful eye on the small of her back and rounding down to her behind. She tried not to be embarrassed that the man casually seemed to take his time perusing her body from behind.

Sinclaire’s eyes happened to look down at her own chest and she gasped realized that her nipples had gotten so hard that they were poking out from her shirt. That’s what he had been looking at mischievously.

‘Go down! Go down!’ she ordered to herself terrified to turn around and taking overly long to find the items he needed. This was the most embarrassing moment of her entire life.

He’d moved closer. She didn’t have to turn around to know. The pleasurable scent of him increased and almost made her blind in distraction. Her nipples almost hurt as they were stretched even more from their own arousal. Her hands itched to touch her own chest to rub the swelling tips. ‘What is wrong with you?! He is just a man!’

Men came in the store off and on - All kinds to buy gifts for their wives, girlfriends and yes, daughters sometimes. For the wealthy customers, Michelle often kept an account and held private showings that even husbands arranged.

It wasn’t as if this man intimidated her. Nor was she in fear of her safety because he looked wealthy enough to buy half the store if he wanted to.

His deep voice vibrated her eardrum, startling her slightly, as he asked, “How long have you worked here?”

Quickly she answered, hoping it wouldn’t prompt him for more questions. “Not long.”

“You’re kind of old to be working in a boutique. Are you a manager?”

“No.” She turned to him with the bras clutched to her chest; feeling very insecure all over and hoping those green eyes of his didn’t have x-ray vision.

Sinclaire had been right about him looking over her body because he hadn’t expected her to turn suddenly. His eyes had to rise from her mid-section to meet her eyes, but he took his time to do this clearly visually caressing the front of her. At first she could barely catch her breath. “T-

These should be sufficient looking for the both of you. How many did you need?”

“As many any seventeen year old would desire,” he said.

“Well in that case, I would suggest you get them all and matching underwear as well.”

His phone started to ring and he looked at the display. He seemed uneasy about the call, but he answered it quickly telling the person to hold on for a moment. To Sinclaire, he asked, “How much for just the bras?”


She looked over the pile as assessed the price. “After tax about four hundred.”

He didn’t flinch as he took out his wallet and handed her a gold credit card. “Do whatever damage you want, I trust you.” He winked and started talking on his phone, while walking out the store.

What a lucky daughter!

Sinclaire, who had never had contact with her own father, had always wished if she had a good father, he would do something like this. With care and attention, she picked out things she just knew any eighteen years old would love.

By the time he returned, she was just ringing up the total to about seven hundred dollars. He looked over her selection and nodded satisfied.

“Can you wrap these up and have them delivered to an address?” he asked, looking through his pocket for something.

“Yes, but they can’t be delivered until the morning.”

“Will you be taking care of it tomorrow morning?”

“No, I won’t work tomorrow morning, Mr. Bowman. I only work the afternoon shifts during the week, but the owner will make sure all deliveries are taken care of and you don’t have to worry,” she assured him liking that they were back to business. It was almost easy to ignore that he was a fine ass man, when they spoke business.

“That’s fine, because I don’t have the address on where they need to be delivered to on me. Can my assistant call back later on tonight or tomorrow to give that address?”

She gave him directions on how to facilitate a delivery and then handed him his credit card and receipt after she finished processing his payment. This gave him time to look over the counter at what she had been studying.

“You’re going to law school?”

“Yes,” she said.

He looked impressed. “Did you just start?”

“No, I’m almost done,” she said quite proud of herself.

“You’re young to be getting out so early?”

“I was accepted into law school while I was getting my MBA and I did both actually but then I had to take a semester break to focus on getting my masters.” Since her joy was school it was so easy to speak to him about it. “But as soon as I was done, I jumped right back in doubling my class load so I can take the bar in six months.”

“And here I thought you were just wasting your life away. Taking up useless space like most women your age waiting for a man to pay for everything.”

“Well, I don’t mind a man paying for everything,” she teased. “And seeing that I thought you were a pervert, I can’t take offense.”

The smile he graced those beautiful lips with took her breath away. Did he know how gorgeous he was?

‘Of course he did,’ she resolved to herself. ‘And no, he would not go for your chubby ass.’

“Nice comeback, ma’am,” he acknowledged.

With the counter between them, her confidence level was high. “It’s Sinclaire,” she corrected him. “My mother’s a ma’am.”

“Of course,” he stood corrected. “So what does a man have to do to take you out to dinner, Sinclaire?”


Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 2 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

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Monday, January 01, 2007

Sin's Iniquity - Chapter 1







“You’re the fattest child I’ve ever had,” her mother sneered viciously with a cold cruel look in her plain brown eyes. “You really shouldn’t be eating that sausage, Sinclaire. Annelle is your twin and she isn’t even close to fat.”

As much as she tried not to let her mother’s cruel tongue bother her, it was really difficult.
Shouldn’t Mel be happy that Sinclaire even came over to the house on Sunday afternoon for brunch? Sinclaire was the only child of Mel’s that actually made an effort to put up with her. One would think her mother would go out of her way to appease her daughter, but not Mel. Making people’s lives miserable seemed her mother’s forte.

Mel never seemed to let the fact that Annelle wanted to be as far away from her mother as possible bother her, nor made any effort to change the fact that she was the most evil woman this side of the Mississippi. She felt anything and everything in her life could be replaced.
Sinclaire also felt size fourteen was not fat. Even though she was only five foot four, she was just thick. Top heavy from Mamma Gerty side of the family and just a big boned young woman of twenty four.

“Mel, leave her alone,” Jackson, Mel’s newest beau urged. He looked almost like Shamar Moore without the facial hair. Being ten years younger than Mel, he was young looking with a nice build and the most handsome smile. He was an investment banker and he spent his days collecting money for businesses. At night, he spent all the money he made that day on her mother.
Sinclaire never deigned to call them boyfriends anymore because they came and went too fast. Not many could last Mel’s evilness and left eventually.

She wasn't sure how Mel had met Jackson, but this had been her longest beau yet and probably not her last. Her mother was just fourteen years her elder and tried to dress like she was still a teenager trying to look grown. Selfish and greedy, she never cared for anyone or anything unless it was benefiting her.

Including Sinclaire.

Mel was the most promiscuous woman Sinclaire had ever known. It wasn’t a night that Sinclaire had known her mother to have sex with a man. Any man would do and Mel didn’t care if it was the beau on hand or someone else.

When Mel left her to go to college, Sinclaire had been understanding. Mel had given birth to Sinclaire and Annelle when she was fourteen and Sinclaire had often been left with her father’s mother because her father was serving time in jail. For some reason from the time she was born, Mel found Sinclaire objectionable and kept her as far away from herself as possible.

Momma Gerty had been kind and gentle and filled Sinclaire with lots of sweets, which accounted for her full figure now - a daily battle with obesity because of her father’s side of the family, but satisfied with her thickness at one hundred and seventy pounds.

“Don’t ever think you ain’t the most beautiful creature on God’s green earth, Sinclaire. You are something because God don’t make no junk. Quit letting your mother take away your joy. You don’t need her to tell you you’re beautiful inside and out,” Momma Gerty would say to Sinclaire. Her words were wonderful after Sinclaire was forced to endure her mother’s company for any period of time – even over the phone. “You got something special about you - all her good qualities that she done forgot she had. The ones my boy was attracted to like a fool. People always try to destroy what they’re jealous of.”

Mel was a size one, supermodel body and face with a Lynn Whitfield type hairstyle. Not too over the top, but just enough bite in it to say she just got it done hours ago. She was one of those African American women that seem to grow even more beautiful as they aged and men were drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Sinclaire’s twin sister, Annelle was just like that as well, but she took work to make sure she stayed skinny. Her twin stayed on a permanent diet and was about to graduate from Michigan State with a degree in accounting. Annelle had taken her time at college, but Mel acted like this was her first daughter to graduate from college with a degree in account.

No one had acknowledged the fact that Sinclaire had received her MBA at accounting and was now going to law school, due to graduate in less than six months.

Mel was doing a big to-do party about Annelle’s graduation and was inviting everyone that was anyone to the party. She even sent invitations to Sinclaire’s other siblings, whom had not grown up with Sinclaire and Annelle.

“You’ll check on the order from the florist before going to work tomorrow morning, right Sin?” her mother said, not caring that her daughter had completely lost her appetite.

“Yes, Mel.” All her life, she had called her mother by the nickname because Mel had almost slapped her blind at five years old when they were in public and Sinclaire called her mother, “Momma.”

“Don’t you ever call me that you high yellow bastard!” Mel had sneered viciously.

Sinclaire only needed to be told once something and she never ever let it slip again.

“You might as well leave if you’re going to stare at your food like that,” Mel snipped.

Quickly, Sinclaire rose and left the table knowing her mother pretty much wanted her to leave. Jackson walked her to the door. He was only about five years Sinclaire’s elder, but with Sinclaire being twenty-four, that wasn’t much. Mel had her at a very young age when most girls weren’t even thinking about boys.

“I hate to say bad things about people, but your mother was a slut before she was out of diapers,” Grandma Gerty would sneer when Sinclaire came home crying from visiting her mother. “I shoulda listened to my friends when they were telling me bout how she had been feeling on boys since kindergarten. And now she goes ‘round saying my boy seduced her. He never saw it coming.”

“You okay,” Jackson asked, his voice filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sinclaire lied. “How have you put up with her for so long, Jackson?”

“I love her very much.”

She looked at him in disbelief because her own intuition felt something different. There was a need there for her mother in Jackson’s voice, but there wasn’t a warm feeling of love. But who could really love pure evil? “Really, Jackson? I find that so hard to do and I’m her daughter.”
He chuckled. “Let’s just say I helped her do some things and in return she’s going to help me do some things. We need each other.”

Toni Braxton started coming from the living room.

“Jackson, bring my robe and join me in,” Mel called.

Being educated to her mother’s ways, Sinclaire was old friends with the sound of Toni Braxton. Sometimes it was Luther Vandross or even Brian McNight. Their sultry sounds meant her mother wanted a lot of TLC. R. Kelly meant Mel wanted to dominant and Prince meant that there was going to be a lot of freaky things going on under the roof.

Sex to Mel was a drug. She needed it all the time and it was her only weakness.

Knowing that she was her mother’s daughter, sex was something that Sinclaire had told herself she would never allow herself to become addicted to. Sinclaire didn’t have her mother’s looks or confidence, but she was very aware that there were some inner traits that were like Mel’s. Like her ability to know when a man wanted her.

Right now, the way Jackson was looking over her fullness, Sinclaire knew he wanted something from her other than just to console her.

He said, as he helped her on with her coat, “I’d walk you to your car-“

“I’m really okay, Jackson. Go before she blames me for something again,” Sinclaire urged.
Tenderly, he kissed her forehead and wished her a goodnight.

She grabbed her purse and left knowing her mother’s eyes were glaring at her from a window. But Sinclaire didn’t turn around and wave goodbye. She had stopped doing that a long time ago – before she was a decade old.

“Why do you even come here?” she asked herself out loud, getting into her old red early ninety Honda Civic and driving off from the West Bloomfield Hills, Michigan six bedroom colonial home her mother lived in.

It was a silly question. She knew why she came faithfully all the time. She knew why she put up with all of Mel's evilness all the time. Sinclaire was a smart girl. She had been top five in her class in high school and college. She had scored the highest on the SAT's, and she had stayed in the top three at her present law school. The answer was more hurtful than she cared to know, but she couldn't help herself. Gaining Mel's approval meant more to Sinclaire than anything. As to why her mother never loved her or showed even a remote amount of motherly caring towards her was the biggest mystery to Sinclaire.

Maybe in her quest to earn her mother's respect she would find the out and then desire no more to gain anything from Mel.

Or maybe Sinclaire would forever be left in the dark, wanting, feeling alone with a sense of failure because she had never succeeded at gaining the love she had always desired from her mother.

It was early October and the wind had started to whip around, warning Michigan citizens to prepare for an odd winter. Michigan had funny weather lately. Some days it was hot, some days it was cold and some days it just couldn’t make up its mind.

Either way, if you lived in the state, you got a taste of all kinds of weather.

Sinclaire had gone to Illinois for college on an academic scholarship and come back to Detroit to work for a law firm as a paralegal until she was accepted into the University of Detroit Mercy Law School. It was in the heart of Downtown Detroit, so it was only comfortable to live inside the city.

She had been renting a small home on the city’s eastside, but after the third break-in while she was at school - the crooks were watching her home - Sinclaire decided to invest and buy a four family flat earlier in the year and was doing the repairs herself and maintaining a tight security system. To help get her some of the money while waiting on the grant to help repair the place, a friend from school got her a job at a popular boutique in Fairlane Mall called UniQuity, owned and managed by Michelle Coleman.

Of course, Mel wouldn’t step foot on the property in its disrepair and since Sinclaire’s apartment, which was in the basement because she made more money renting all four apartments than taking up space in one, she knew her mother would die before her feet ever touched her property line or graced her door.

Walking in her place, she checked to see if her tenants had left any messages. Ms. Emma Cornwall in apartment 2B needed new washers in her bathroom and Lena Jackson, single mother with three kids in a one bedroom apartment needed her window fixed before it got any colder outside. She even put in two hundred dollars, which was more than enough to fix the window and Sinclaire would give her whatever change was left.

Soon as Sinclaire placed her coat down, she frowned at the large wall mirror she was using to cover a hole that led from the washing room that she had yet to fix.

Staring back at the full face, flawless light coppery skin tone and light ochre eyes that were wide, but slightly slanted for an exotic look. Her hair color was a very dark brown with natural umber highlights usually brought out when she had too much sun in her hair or she was eating healthier, but lately this had never been the case. She kept it short right near her ears because it was easier to maitan.

Lots of studying and lack of appetite, mixed with depression caused her to not want to eat healthy at all.

Even after looking at her size fourteen, five foot four and a half height body at over one hundred and seventy pounds, didn’t deter her from heading to the small apartment size refrigerator and picking up her favorite Moosetrack ice cream - a favorite in Michigan. Grabbing a clean spoon - which was rare in her apartment - she plopped on the couch, pulled her schoolbook on her lap and started to read cases. When her eyes became tired, she searched around on the close by coffee table over her mess of school papers, notes and such to find her reading spectacles.
Even as she sat there deep in thought over her lessons, she felt the urges. They were coming more and more and no matter what she took nothing ever made them go away.

'I won't be like her!' she swore to herself and placed her book down. Going into the bathroom, she opened the medicine cabinet and stared at the silver bag she kept there. To try to make it seem like she had a good excuse to go into the bathroom, she washed her hands. The scorching hot water was a painful distraction to what her body was feeling.

Yet soon that pain couldn't distract her from what she really craved.

Out loud she asked herself, "I thought you said after the last time you wouldn't do it anymore? You can fight this."

She closed the medicine cabinet and looked at herself in the mirror. When she couldn't stand the sight of herself anymore, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. 'No, you can't! You're too weak and she's too strong!' her mind said. 'It's apart of you and It's there, laying in the shadows, waiting for your weakest moment and then...'

Opening the cabinet, she took the bag out and sat on the edge of the tub. Opening up her robe, she was still only wearing after her shower, she spread her legs and avoided the temptation to touch herself. Using the closed toilet as a table, she opened the bag carefully as if someone was around and would come in if they heard the zipper make noise.

She took two baby wipes out. One she laid over the toilet as a covering. The other she wiped high inside of her left thigh. Her breathing was calm and it felt as if she were standing outside of herself watching her do this to her body.

Sinclaire hated pain and she denied she did this too herself, so pushing her conscious away made it easier for her to accept what she was doing.

And old mark that had healed weeks ago was there. She tossed the baby wipe away and picked up an alcohol swab from the silver bag.

Opening it up and then cleaned the area only centimeters away from the old scar. If she continued the scar would run all the way from her middle thigh to her the crack between her thigh and womanhood.

"Then what?'" she asked herself.

Picking up the sanitized blade, she pulled the wrapper from around it and then placed it down on her skin. 'You aren't strong enough.' Blood began to emit from under the blade from the cut she inflicted.

Tears welled in her eyes as she pressed harder feeling the sting and yes, the pain. Lots of it and the amount of alcohol didn't help. Throwing her head back as the pain worsened, Sinclaire wince and gritted her teeth together so no sound was heard.

Just was use to this in the quietness of her dorm room. She didn't want to wake her fellow students. No one could ever know she did this to herself. NO ONE!


Looking down at her new wound, she relaxed even more as the blood ran down her thigh and pooled down on the bathroom floor. It felt better. The urge had left her and she relished the pain in its place.

Laying the blade on the wipe, she used another alcohol swab to wipe up the blood on her thigh and wipe the wound. Carefully she applied first aid care to the wound and then placed a band aide over the fresh cut once the bleeding lessened.

She was back to her normal self. She could concentrate again.

By eleven at night, she dug around her kitchen to find a can of Ravioli and threw some shredded cheese on there. Even after that, she wanted something to snack on and found some stale nachos to chomp on before falling asleep on the couch.

At six am, she awoke, took a hot shower, scrimmaged for a bowl of cereal, grabbed her law books and bounced out the door.

On her way out, she bumped into Lena who looked as if she was just coming in with her waitress uniform on.

“How’s life at the IHOP?” she asked.

Lena smiled tiredly. “Smelly. Here take these.”

Sinclaire took the offered Styrofoam container filled with a hot breakfast.

“It’s not enough for all the kids and they’ll just fight over it,” Lena said.

“Thanks, get some rest and I’ll be up to fix that window after school,” Sinclaire promised and waved goodbye.

To Sinclaire, her life was simple and she preferred that. It wasn’t complex where a lot of friends and family hampered her ability. Other than her mother’s cruelness, Sinclaire rarely spoke with any of her other siblings and her father was obsolete.

As far as she knew, Gideon McGentry died in prison when Sinclaire was fourteen. Shortly after that, Momma Gerty, so depressed over Gideon getting shanked, died and Sinclaire spent her teenage years watching her mother take whatever money Momma Gerty left Sinclaire and spending it on herself or her current beau or on her other sister.

Yeah, life had been really depressing under Mel’s roof for her teenage years, but Sinclaire just kept telling herself Momma Gerty’s words from the Bible, “This too shall pass.”

There were a lot of times Sinclaire didn’t think that way, but once she was away from Mel, even though she was still ridicule for not being a model size or teased because she was smart, anything was better than being around her mother.

After school, she got two hours of studying done, before she headed to the hardware store to get what she needed, checked the order at the florist and then she headed to work for the afternoon shift.

Michelle was there at the store; freshly back from her honeymoon and looking radiant.

“Hey, Sinclaire!” Michelle said.

“Hi!”

Her manager was in the midst of removing the last dummie off the floor to be cleaned and redressed by the morning. “I’ve got to leave early tonight and I can’t find anyone to cover. I was wondering if you could close tonight. Just leave the drop in the safe, like before. I’ve authorized your card to open it.”

Sinclaire didn’t mind being left alone. “It’s not a problem.”

“Good,” Michelle said looking relieved. “I really didn’t want to have to close up the shop early and I really hadn’t expected this show to be scheduled like this. I could always ask my husband-“

“That’s okay,” she said cutting her off. “He gives me the creeps.”

Michelle giggled. “He just feels uncomfortable about being around women’s clothing all the time.”

“Most men do.”

They laughed together. Michelle was a pretty dark skinned woman, a little bit older than Sinclaire. She had borrowed a lot of money from a rich friend to open up the shop and just worked like a slave making sure everything was perfect.

She was a cool understanding boss and if her employees did well, she rewarded them aplenty.

Sinclaire was trying to get enough cool points to afford the beautiful three-piece pants suit that just happened to be in her size, but cost seven hundred dollars. It wouldn’t go out on the floor until Thanksgiving, but Sinclaire had dreams about wearing the suit to court or just wearing it.

“Call me if you need anything,” Michelle said, handing Sinclaire the spare keys to the shop.

“I won’t need anything. It’s Monday and since it’s close to Halloween, everyone’s out shopping around for a costume.”

Michelle sighed tiredly. “Speaking of special days, would you be able to come in on Thanksgiving Holiday to set up in the afternoon for Black Friday? I’ll order the best Honey Baked Ham you ever tasted.”

When food was involved, Sinclaire couldn’t resist. “Sure, Michelle.”

“Thanks again, Sinclaire.”

As the night progressed, Sinclaire was able to get the store ready to close by 7:30pm, even though the mall didn’t close until 9pm. While she waited for a customer to come in she would sneak her books out behind the counter and read, but jump up as soon as she heard someone
enter.

She became so immersed in one case; she didn’t hear the customer come in until he was clearing his voice above her. She gasped startled and dropped the book on her toe.

“Oww!” she hissed.

“Did I surprise you?” he asked.

Sinclaire dipped to get her book, not even looking at the customer and rub her toe. “Umm, I’ll be with you in a sec,” she said, putting the book on the counter and putting her shoes back on.

Facing him, she was surprised to look up into a very beautiful set of olive green eyes and the most perfect smile she could ever imagine on a man. He looked about his middle thirties; natural tan skin and looking like Clive Owens, with beautiful eyes. He was dressed in a very professional tailor made brown suit, which brought out the darkness in his eyes. Standing at six feet exactly, he looked down at her rather confused and frustrated and she felt all of a sudden bad for making him wait like that.




Sin's Iniquity Chapter 1 (c) 2007 Sylvia Hubbard

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