BWWM Books: Stripped Bare (BWWM Pregnancy Romance) by Jamila Jasper

 It's been a while since I've updated this blog, but in the New Year, I'll be starting fresh and keeping you posted with romance novel excerpts perfect for you readers who just love romantic stories. Stripped Bare is one of my latest BWWM books that will be released in early January. 

This is one of my best steamy romance novels and one of the most exciting contemporary romance novels with pregnancy interwoven into the plot. Why don't you check out the description below and then read the free sample for yourself?

If you love interracial romance books, I'm sure you'll love this new preview to Jamila Jasper's next full-length novel release.

Description:

100% Original BWWM Romance Novel...

African-American business woman Samara "Sugar" Wilson isn't looking for love.

The sexy, muscular and mysterious Storm Jarvis isn't looking either.

The results of an explosive night of passion force them to deal with each other far longer than they're willing.

They can't ignore the tension between them even if they try... 

After getting naughty all over New York, Storm is forced to accept that he wants to claim Sugar as his and his alone.

Will their fear of commitment get in the way of them realizing they're fated to be bonded for life? 

BWWM Books Excerpt: Stripped Bare

1 THE CALM BEFORE

Sugar stood at the bar, watching Trina and Tracy tear up the dance floor. She’d turned thirty-five in early April, Tracy had turned thirty five in early October. Now, a few days before Christmas, it was finally Trina’s turn to hit that milestone age of thirty-five. Sugar’s thirties had been pleasant so far. 

At least they trumped her twenties in a lot of ways. There was more money, more confidence in herself and stronger friendships that didn’t risk getting torn apart by petty drama. She was secure and she felt like she was at an age where she no longer needed to have a boyfriend all the time to feel validated. That was one of the biggest difference’s between Sugar’s twenties and her thirties. Independence.

The music in the club blared; it was too loud for anyone to approach Sugar and she was happy about that. She was just here for her girls to celebrate a birthday, not to meet anybody. 

Trina had found herself an attractive black guy — Jamaican, judging by the flag printed on his t-shirt — and she was swiveling her hips and dancing all up on him. That girl had a thing for Jamaican men that didn’t stop no matter how much heartbreak she’d been through. Tracy had found a much shorter guy to dance with, but Sugar could still see why Tracy was attracted to him. Tracy had a much different taste in men from Trina. Sugar had different tastes from both of them.

The guy Tracy had found was muscular enough and dressed to the nines in some obscenely expensive looking designer clothing. Tracy worked in fashion, so she had a special eye for men who knew how to dress. Trina had a special eye for Jamaican men — each one seemed to be a bigger heartbreaker than the last. Sugar thought that Trina could count herself lucky that none of them had knocked her up.

While many of Sugar’s coworkers thought her thirties should be for baby-making, Sugar couldn’t envision ever having a child. Her childhood had very few pleasant memories and Sugar had unshakable cynicism about the entire concept of “motherhood”. 

“Amaretto Sour please?” Sugar called to the bartender.

The guy behind the bar was cute. He was more of Sugar’s type than any of the other fellas in the club. He was tall, with tanned skin and he looked like the kind of guy who was never supposed to be a bartender full time but ended up there anyways. 

He’d probably come to the city with dreams of being an actor, a model or something. Most of the bartenders did. Most of them ended up waiting bars until their forties. The smart ones left the city before it was too late to go back to Oklahoma or wherever they’d come from. The bartender had those gorgeous olive green eyes and freshly cut brown hair. The way he smiled at Sugar as he took her order and made her drink almost made her forget that she’d sworn off men completely. 

The bartender delivered her drink promptly and Sugar returned to watching Trina and Tracy move on the dance floor. Unlike them, Sugar wasn’t in the mood to dance. She hated being the center of attention in the club or the bar. She much preferred to drink and maybe strike up a good conversation with someone. Sugar had done plenty of partying and clubbing in her youth. Her friends looked so happy and carefree in a way Sugar knew she could never be. 

There was so much Trina and Tracy didn’t know about Sugar and who she really was.

“Sugar” was a nickname that she’d chosen to avoid any connections to her past life. Sugar had been the name of a close friend who’d always cared for her when she needed it most. The name hearkened back to a girl who had been like a desperately needed big sister to her. In some ways, those days felt like another life. 

Sugar wondered what secrets Trina and Tracy were hiding as they moved around the dance floor unfettered by any worries. Was everyone else like her? Did everyone else have some deep-seated sadness buried beneath the surface?

Sugar sipped her drink slowly and eyed the dance floor for a worthwhile bachelor to dance with. She’d sworn off men but at the very least she could look and have a little bit of a sample. If it had been another night, after a few more drinks, she might have leapt at the opportunity to flirt with the bartender all night long. Sugar was almost jealous of Trina and Tracy in some ways. 

They were both far more outgoing than she was and definitely both were far more trusting of men. Sugar had been single for the six years they’d known her. On the other hand, Trina was a divorcée who had left her husband after discovering that he had a second family in Jamaica. Tracy was the type of girl who went through boyfriends on a two year cycle looking for “the one”.

So far, she’d been unsuccessful. Sugar had a cynical view on what the outcome of her quest would be. She didn’t think she’d ever find a guy who would be different from the terrible men she’d been exposed to in the past.

Trina was a short, thick, dark skinned woman with all the confidence a woman could ask for. She wore her hair in long waist-length dreadlocks that she’d been growing out ever since her divorce. Tracy was skinny as hell with a big ole booty. She had more ochre colored skin and a thick Southern accent that hadn’t toned down not even a little bit since she moved up north. Compared to them, Sugar almost felt plain. 

At least that stopped her from being hit on tonight. She simply wasn’t in the mood to rebuke men’s advances. Plus, some men could be too pushy when they got liquor in them. Sugar just wanted to have fun with her girls.

Sugar continued to scan the bar looking for any guy that looked remotely interesting. She wasn’t one to make the first move but if she wanted to do something other than stand around all night, Sugar knew she would have to.

Sugar felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Then she heard a voice that caused all the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.

“Samara.”

Hearing that name and that voice shook Sugar’s fight-or-flight mechanism awake. She turned around and came face to face with a man she hadn’t seen for six years. In those six years, he hadn’t changed, not even a little bit. His skin had gotten more wrinkled of course. But other than that, he looked almost identical to the day that they’d met. 

He still made her skin crawl and his eyes still possessed a deadened look that chilled Sugar to the very bone.

As Sugar turned around, she saw “Sticky”. She’d been hiding from him for years, even changing her name from Samara to Sugar to avoid anybody connecting the two of them together. Sugar always feared that when Sticky found her, he’d kill her. Or worse.

“I don’t go by that name anymore,” Sugar said, trying her best to hold her voice steady. 

Of course, Sticky just smiled. It was a wide smile that let her know he didn’t give a damn what she did or said, he was in control. Sugar was well used to seeing him look like this. She was terrified but she knew that she could find a way out this time. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. All she had to do was make sure she wasn’t alone with him. 

“You look a lot older Samara,” He said, “But there are still men who would pay a pretty penny for a night with you.”

“Leave me alone. I’m here with friends and I swear to God I’ll scream if you try anything,” Sugar retorted. 

Sticky just laughed, “Why so savage Samara? After all that I’ve given you in life, you’re still just an ungrateful little bitch.”

Sugar was visibly trembling. She considered just running and attempting to disappear into the crowd. But if Sticky could find her once, he could find her again. And if he had to chase her down, he’d be mad. Sugar had the scars to prove that getting Sticky mad was a bad idea.

“What the hell have you done for me? You ain’t done shit! I’m not afraid of you no more,” Sugar lied.

She could tell that Sticky didn’t buy it. Of course she was still afraid of him. She’d always be afraid of him, no matter where she went, no matter how many times she changed her name. If he wanted to find her, he’d find her. She was lucky that it had been six years since he’d wanted to get in touch.

“What kind of way is this to treat the man who took you in off the streets at fifteen?”

Sugar’s lower lip trembled. She bit down hard. Showing him weakness was a mistake. 

None of her friends knew about that side of her life; neither did her employer. Sugar had the good fortune of getting a chance to reinvent herself and she knew that Sticky wouldn’t hesitate to ruin her life again if he wanted to. She prayed to God that he didn’t want to. Maybe there was a slim chance he’d just found her again to scare her. But she understood how Sticky operated. 

Hearing him mention her past was as good as a threat to expose her.

“I ain’t that girl no more.”

Sticky chuckled, “I think you could be. You were always our best girl Samara… You had the fattest ass of any fifteen year old I’d ever met.”

Sugar felt bile rising in her throat. At fifteen years old, she’d been far too young to see anything that she’d experienced back then. Her daddy had been jailed on a trumped up drug charge when she was thirteen years old; he’d taken the fall for some “buddies” of his and he still wasn’t out. Her mama had turned to booze shortly after. By fifteen years old, her mama was homeless, unemployed and Sugar had to take care of her family. She’d been vulnerable. And Sticky had taken advantage of that vulnerability.

Just thinking about that time in her life terrified Sugar immensely. She’d killed that part of her, reinvented herself. Those times no longer existed. They might as well have never happened.

“Shut the hell up and leave me alone…” Sugar growled through gritted teeth.

She did a quick scan of the bar for either Trina or Tracy but none of them were there. They couldn’t step in and help her. Sugar wasn’t even sure she wanted them to. Sticky wouldn’t hesitate to reveal the fact that Sugar had been a stripper in the past. Sugar was stuck here until Sticky finally decided to leave her alone.

Sticky smiled, “Oh, I ain’t gonna leave you alone baby.”

“What do I have to say to get you to leave me alone?” Sugar begged, “I got money. I’ll give you money to leave me alone.”

Sugar wasn’t sure that a pimp — or whatever Sticky considered himself — really needed money but she was desperate and the last thing she wanted was to encourage Sticky to stick around.

Sugar at thirty-five was a very different person from Sugar at fifteen. She wouldn’t get swept up by tall tales and empty promises this time. Just looking at Sticky now, she felt utter disgust. He was an old man now, almost. When she was fifteen, he had been thirty. His age had made his tall tales seem like wisdom. Now all his age did was highlight to Sugar how much she’d been preyed upon before she was old enough to know better. Before she had options.

To everyone else, Sticky probably didn’t look as creepy. You had to know him the way Sugar did to feel your blood run cold the moment you saw him. Sticky cleaned up nice. He wore a nice blue button down shirt and jeans with a sports jacket. His shoes were expensive. He wore a Rolex on one wrist; even now Sugar couldn’t tell if it was a fake or not. He was clean shaven and in this outfit, all his tattoos were covered up.

Sugar was glad. On his right shoulder, he had the names of all the girls he'd “turned” to stripping. Her name was number four. Seeing “Samara” written there in cursive lettering had served as a constant reminder for those years that Sticky owned her. If she left his ward, it would be because he let her leave, not because she wanted to.

“I ain’t need your money,” He said.

“Then what is it? Because I’ve done everything in my power to leave you and everyone else behind.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” He said, “You can never really leave me behind Samara.”

“You’re a psychopath Sticky…” 

“Don’t get mouthy with me Samara. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of what happens when you do that.”

He used his lower jaw to gesture to Sugar’s shoulder. In her halter dress, the scar was quite visible. She’d told her friends with was from falling on ice. But the truth of that scar was far far worse. Sticky had held her down, butt naked and dug his knife into her shoulder when she wouldn’t back down from “giving him lip” once. He’d wanted to mutilate Sugar forever, so he had. There was nothing she could do to ever get rid of the scar. Sugar had used it as a reminder every day that she would never go back to that world. Never.

“Just tell me what the hell you want from me,” She hissed. 

“But that wouldn’t be fun now, would it? Why don’t we catch up…”

“I’m not telling you a damned thing about me. I’m not Samara anymore. That’s all you need to know.”

“Would you be tempted to listen if I told you there’s a way for you to get back in the business? I’ll forgive all the wrong you’ve done me. All the money you’ve stolen from me.”

“I haven’t stolen any money from you…”

Sticky chuckled, “Oh I think you have Samara. Running away at twenty-nine might have been brave but it was also stupid. You could’ve worked six more years. I’ve come to collect on your debts.”

This book is currently available on Amazon. The discounted price of 0.99 cents is guaranteed until February 1st 2016 only. Other than that, the novel will be available for $4.99.

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