Romance Discovered

By Marsell Morris

KC wasn’t a bad women, she only had an extraordinary libido.

While thinking no one man could satisfy her, she discovers that she, unknowingly, needed more than just sex in her life. What she really desired was a relationship, and by happenstance, the right man comes into her life.

After an unwanted divorce, caused by her constant demands to be pleasured, and her parents moving out of town, KC began giving in to her salacious ergs. Using several men in an attempt to quell her insatiable appetite, she meanders through her daily existence, while having sex with whoever happens to wonder into her life, but never finding true satisfaction. Fearing that her overactive desires would spell disaster to any relationship she may pursue, she kept telling herself, and any men she dated, that she would never settle down with one man, while all the time, and deep inside, hoping for the right man to come along and sweep her off her feet.

She meets Lance, who she thought at the time was another prospective bed-mate, to later discover he means more to her than she would admit, or wanted to accept.

Only after nearly being raped and almost killed by the wrong boy toy, who happened to be a deranged suitor, does she realize that a past conquest was the one she sought from the beginning.

Falling in love with Lance, she vows against her natural proclivities to commit to this one man, while willingly giving up her swinging ways. Eventually moving in with her new-found heartthrob, she wonders if this knight in shining armor will be the barer of her true happiness, and will their relationship last?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marsell Morris
• Release date: Apr 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310940002

Marsell Morris

Marsell was born in Detroit Michigan in the year of... well, a good while ago. After graduating from Cass Technical High School, Marsell went to work for the Chrysler Corporation as a conveyor loader. Shortly after beginning his employment with Chrysler, he married, and fathered three children. Thirty-one years later, and after having gained the position of production supervisor, he retired at fifty.After retiring, he began playing golf everyday and all day. Having lowered his handicap to near scratch, and winning a tournament at even par, and behind a debilitating injury, he was unable to continue playing. He had a lot of free time on his hands, whereupon, he took up writing as a hobby and time killer and discovered he had talent for spinning a yarn.After pounding out eleven urban fictions, covering everything from drug use, prostitution, gang crime, murder, and romance/erotica, and having always been a science fiction fan from his teenage years, he thought he’d try his hand at writing a Sci-Fi tail, which culminated in his first work “Alien Plot - First Contact” now retitled "Alien Offensive - Nanobot Storm" and its four sequels, and which, at one time before he ran into problems with its publisher, was considered good fodder for production as a movie, not because he is such a great writer, but because of its unique, previously unexplored, plot.He still lives in Detroit, and being a compulsive writer, he spends most of his time wearing out his fourth keyboard replacement, while pursuing what he loves doing — writing more tails with unique story lines.

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Romance Discovered

By: Marsell Morris (Mojo)

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

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ISBN: 9781310940002

This novel is written for entertainment purposes only, and should not be considered or used as a reference material. The characters and dialogues contained here-in are products of the author's imagination, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, or an establishment, existing, or defunct, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2008 All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Other works by Marsell

Urban Fiction, Murder and Romance Erotica

Detroit Cracked: Book 1

Detroit Cracked: Book 2 - Big-D's Return

Detroit Cracked: Book 3 - Boss-man's Rise

Detroit Cracked: Book 4 - Boss-lady's Rise

Midnight Sex in Detroit

Detroit Street Gang

Snakes Don't Walk

Detroit's Sin Hotel

Rage in Detroit

Science Fiction

Alien Offensive: Book 1 - Nanobot Storm

Alien Offensive: Book 2 - The Terraforming of Earth

Alien Offensive: Book 3 - Humankind Strikes Back

Alien Offensive: Book 4 - Virulent Virus

Alien Offensive: Book 5 - Ultimate Sacrifice

Beyond the Beginning: Brock's Adventures

Beyond the Beginning: Brock's Adventures - Episode 2 Beyond the Beginning: Brock's Adventures - Episode 3

The Immortality of Brian Gray

Romance Discovered

By: Marsell Morris (Mojo)

Preface

KC thought of herself as being a nympho — a flaw she was sure, once revealed, no man would be happy with. Actually, subconsciously, her self-diagnosis was an excuse to use sex as a weapon — a subterfuge to first, draw men into her web, and then later drive them away — a defense against commitment, until that night the right man entered her life, and her self-diagnoses forgotten, her true nature and desires are unmasked. KC had to learn that no matter how hard she tried, true love can not be denied.

Prologue

. . . Lance got up from the bed and walked to the window and looked down on the busy parking lot. Looked down on people going about their simple lives. People, he figured, who knew where they stood in this screwed up world, as he tried to make sense of his relationship with KC. He made up his mind. Just like that, in a split second, he made a decision that might affect him for a long time to come.

Turning to face her, and looking at the ceiling, he began. You know, KC, I love you. Why, I don't know. You're about as screwed up in the head as any woman I've ever met. But that doesn't matter. I still love you. You've given me something every man wants — something hard to find — honesty. And honesty is not something a man can walk away from easily. Yes, you're beautiful, but there are millions of beautiful women walking around in this crazy world. And, although, I like your beauty, I like your honesty more. It's because of your honesty, I'm willing to let you find yourself. You cared enough about me to be honest with me, and I care enough about you to respect that and not demand you become something you aren't — become something I want you to be. KC, we can see each other until you get tired of me. If you decide to move on, so-be-it. I won't consider it my fault, or think it's because I'm not good enough for you. It will be because I happen to not be the right man for you, or you're incapable of commitment. If you decide you want something more serious, great. Whichever way you decide, I'll be there. Okay? When he looked down, KC was silently crying, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Ye . . . Yes, Lance. That's jus . . . Jus . . . Just fine with me, KC said, all choked up . . .

Chapter 1

KC pulled the pillow over her head while still half-asleep, but did little to quiet the insistent buzzing. What is that infernal noise, her groggy mind asked, as she rolled over on her side. Half opening her eyes, and saw the empty space on the bed next to her. That's when recollection settled on her recovering wits. He was gone, and the noise was her alarm clock demanding she get up.

Sitting up abruptly, she wondered where Stan had gone. Maybe he's in the bathroom, she guessed, but knew better. Stan had slipped out without waking her last night. She fell back onto the bed and tossed her pillow at the clock knocking it off the dresser, but failed to quiet it. She wanted a few more minutes of blissful sleep before dressing for work. The clock was doing its best to get her to do the right thing, and was succeeding.

Jesus, she thought, let me get up and get dressed. At least I won't be late for work today. But I sure wish Stan had let me know he was leaving, although, it was nice of him to cover me before he left. I could get to like that man. But I have to be careful, she thought, as she looked at the still buzzing alarm clock, I don't want him to think I want us to become an item.

Finally sitting up on the side of the bed, she reached down to pick up the persistent clock, looked at the snooze button for a moment, but decided to shut it off. It was telling her if she got up right now, took her shower, and got dressed, she'd have enough time for a leisurely drive to work, and maybe catch Stan in the cafeteria of the hospital where she worked as a nurses aide.

In a way it was good Stan had left. She knew if he was still there, she'd probably be late again. So, despite her compulsions, she was glad he'd slipped out.

Besides, his performance last night exceeded my expectations, and was more than enough to knock me out for the count, she remembered, as she went to and turned on the shower, and found a note hanging over the top of the vanity mirror — Had a great time. Sorry I had to leave. I have to be in the O.R. early. You looked so peaceful while sleeping, I didn't want to wake you. See you at work. OOOXXX' Stan.

With a kind of tingly feeling, she smiled while reading the note, and then stepped into the shower.

Some women liked baths after a heated night of lovemaking. She liked the shower. Hum, this feels good, KC whispered, as the surging spray of warm water streamed down the back of her straight black hair inherited from her white mother, down the curve of her back, to disappear down the drain, carrying the fragrant hair shampoo with it.

I could stay in here all morning, she thought, as she tilted her head forward while letting the water work its magic. Just a touch hotter will be perfect, she thought, while reaching to tweak the hot water.

With the showerhead set to a massaging, pulsating, stream, it played across her shoulders and back to settle on the nape of her neck. Another moan rose from deep within her. Jesus, this feels so good, she thought, just what a girl needs after a marathon sex session.

Pausing for a moment to slide open the shower door, she took a quick glance at her watch resting on the small vanity next to the shower. She had fifteen minutes — plenty of time. Besides, Shamika, the head nurse where she worked, had told her she was on the verge of loosing her job if she didn't improve her attendance.

I bet Shamika will be surprised to see me coming in early for a change, she thought, with a smile. Five minutes more, and then I'll get dressed, she planned.

Taking another quick look at her watch, KC moaned. Christ, where did the time go? I can't believe ten minutes passed so quickly, she thought, as she climbed out of the shower and began toweling off. The weekend is coming. The next time I invite him over, I won't let him slip away so easily, she thought of her last night's date. I thought he'd never tire. I hope he can join me for the whole weekend this time. I hope I didn't place too many demands on him and that's why he slipped out last night without waking me, she wondered, as she stood looking into her closet, trying to decide what to wear.

She chose a fresh nurses aide uniform instead of civvies. It never took her long to dress because she never wore much makeup — didn't need to. A light blow-drying and brushing of her almost straight hair, and pinning it up in a ponytail never took much time. She was what some referred to as having a natural beauty.

Ten minutes later, keys in hand, she was on her way out, heading for her car parked near the entrance of her apartment building.

Jesus, she thought, as she drove down the entrance ramp onto the I-94 freeway and encountered slow moving traffic. I forgot at this early hour everyone is trying to get to work. Oh well, I might as well sit back and enjoy the ride, she thought, turning on the radio and tuning to the news and weather station, and the word ride provoking another memory. Huh, that was some ride last night, and if I have my way, tonight too, she thought. Christ, woman, get you head out of the bed, she thought with a grin, and in the slow traffic, remembered the events leading to the previous night's escapade . . .

# # #

Boy, this has been a busy day, KC thought, as she stood near the head nurse' desk, watching more people come into the emergency room of the, Detroit Humanitarian, hospital. I wonder what's going on? We never get this many patients at this time of the month, or week, for that matter?

It was near the end of her shift, and she was more than ready to go home. For a brief moment, it seemed she might get a short break, but just as she finished the follow-up treatment of the last patient in the waiting room, several more walk-ins or another ambulance rolled up, and the frenzied activity began again. It'd been none-stop from the moment she arrived that morning, until time for the next shift to come in.

She and Deedee, her girlfriend and coworker, as well as the other two nurses aides, Balinda and Sylvia, barely had time to say boo, let alone have anything resembling a customary conversation, as they raced passed each other while hurrying from one treatment room to the next. Eating lunch together, as they normally would, was out of the question.

And so it went, the staff treating patient after patient, many of whom actually not needing emergency room attention, particularly, some of the less fortunate individuals who wandered in, many of whom having mental issues, and in most cases, only wanting a little attention or someone to talk too. The hospital for them was a place to hang around, while begging for a few pennies from whomever would stop long enough to listen to them, which wasn't often. It was a cat and mouse game between the indigent and security, but as a whole, they were harmless while being more of an annoyance than a danger to anyone.

The neighborhood in which the hospital's located, not far from the intersection of Woodward and Mack Avenues in an area once the location of several housing projects, along with the Coalition On Temporary Shelter, or COTS, as a homeless shelter was called, had many homeless people wandering around. It could be argued because the shelter had been in the neighborhood on Peterboro street only a few blocks from the hospital since '81, the indigent had as much right to be there as anyone else. Many of the mentally capable homeless took up residence in the shelter, while just as many not so competent individuals simply roamed the streets near the shelter. And, no matter how well intentioned the shelter, many of these people were criminals.

As long as the day was, the evening' worst case came in near the end of KC's shift. Every now and then a patient would come in that could break the heart of the most stalwart. This particularly heart wrenching patient, a tiny female infant of only a few months, arrived in an ambulance with her distraught mother close by her side.

After a few minutes of frantically working on the child, the doctor stepped back and looking at the three assisting nurses, shook his head. He looked at the clock on the wall and called the time of death. The preliminary examination indicated sudden death syndrome as the cause of death, although, a later autopsy would render the final decision. He turned to look at KC, who stood near the entranced to the treatment room watching, hopefully — a remorseful expression on his face saying it all. KC could swear she detected a hint of tears in his eyes.

Poor thing, KC thought, as she stood back and watched the frenzied activity trying to revive the helpless infant. I'm glad I don't have any children, she thought, very near tears, and feeling emotion weld up inside her. I don't think I could handle loosing my child like that, she thought, as she watched the baby being covered from head to toe with a white sheet. They'd have to carry me out of here on a stretcher, she imagined. I hope the mother will be all right — Lord help her.

The young black mother, who'd been in the waiting room, was led to a private room away from everyone, and told to take a seat. Judging by the look of her, she seemed to be barely in her teens and much too young to have a baby. It seemed more babies were having babies, but was the trend now days, and everyone was at a loss to find a way to break the trend.

After being seated, and before she could be told about the death of her child, the young mother, while sensing a hopeless situation, passed out, requiring treatment. When she later regained consciousness, and was told of the baby's passing, she became angry, and tried to force her way into the treatment room to see her child. She blamed the doctors and the hospital for failing to revive the infant, actually dead on arrival. She stormed up and down the hallway, screaming at the top of her lungs, and praying for Jesus to save her baby. At one point, still begging for the Lord to not take her daughter, she collapsed in a heap on the polished floor — her sobs shaking her whole body. Eventually, the hospital security was called in to escort the bemoaned woman to her mother and grandmother, who'd just arrived, and were looking for her in the waiting room. Being led away, the distraught mother screamed her intentions to sue everyone from the ambulance medical technicians, to the hospital's staff and administration. Unfortunately, it was later learned the infant, instead of succumbing to sudden death syndrome as earlier suspected, may have been accidentally smothered by the mother while they slept together. The mother would be lucky to escape child endangerment as well as involuntary manslaughter charges let alone think about trying to sue anyone.

With her emotions overpowering, KC wiped her eyes with the back of a hand, and quickly slipped into one of the vacant treatment rooms where she could have a quick cry, and then attempt to recover before called upon to help with another patient.

When KC decided to become a nurses aide, and wear the tight aide's uniform that accentuated her perfect figure, she never thought she'd have to witness such a heartbreaking disaster. Nor did she imagine having to clean up behind a patient who came in later with severe dehydration, caused by projectile vomiting, accompanied by a bad case of diarrhea. Apparently the patient, an obviously homeless man in his thirties, had some form of Staphylococcal food poisoning, resulting in extreme Gastroenteritis. It was discovered he'd eaten discarded chicken he found in a restaurant's dumpster. He was a mess when he came in. The illness, although serious, would have gone away without specific treatment had he not come to the hospital, but being afraid, he stopped the police, demanding to be taken to the emergency room. The police seeing his excrement covered clothes, and not wanting him in their cruiser, called EMS who took their sweet time arriving.

By the time the man was brought in, the whole of his lower body was covered in a malodorous brown stain. The medical technicians switched him from their gurney to one of the hospital's, looking away from the unfortunate patient and holding their breaths. As they left, they argued over which one of them would clean the mess the man left behind on their folding stretcher, but before they could complete their task, they received another emergency call, and were off to collect another possible patient to be brought back to the hospital.

Deedee was the first to see the distraught man being wheeled in. A year older than KC and having been in the emergency unit longer, she knew how to avoid the more disgusting cases.

When she saw the man wheeled in, and knowing the other aides were busy, she quickly walked to one of the treatment rooms to find KC who was seeing to a patient. Girlfriend, I need to take a short bathroom break. I'll be back in five. Will you cover for me, just a minute? I promise, it's quiet down front, Deedee lied to KC.

Having finished bandaging a cut and stitched finger of a young girl who'd tried to demonstrate she could cook like her mother, KC agreed to cover for her friend, and with the mother close by, sent the pair to be discharged. As soon as KC stepped around the corner and saw the smelly patient, she knew she'd been tricked.

The Doctor on call, seeing the man's symptoms subsiding, told the head nurse to have him cleaned up. Of course, because KC was there, she was asked to attend to the reeking patient.

Un-hum, I owe Deedee one, while knowing exactly what'd happened. I bet she saw this patient brought in, she guessed correctly, as she followed the orderly pushing the gurney to a treatment room.

By the time she finished cleaning the sick man, it was well past her quitting time. On her way to clean herself up, she passed Deedee on her way out of the locker room. With a grin, KC mouthed the words, You owe me one.

Shrugging her shoulders, Deedee pretended to not know what KC was talking about, but both the girls knew. Deedee knew she'd have to find a way to make it up to her BFF.

By the time KC left the locker-room, the rest of her shift had gone. She'd be walking, alone, to her car in the dark garage. As she was leaving, she noted the waiting room filling, again. It would be a long night for the shift following her's, but wasn't her problem. She headed home to a night of watching television, and maybe a small pizza for dinner, not in any mood to cook.

It was dangerous to venture out at night on your own in certain locations in the Hospital's area, particularly, semi-dark parking structures. But KC had no choice. All her coworkers had gone, and the poorly lit garage was nearly deserted by the time she stepped off the garage' elevator.

I don't know how I'm going to pay Dee back, but I'm going to get even, KC thought, as she walked in the dimly lighted garage, listening for footsteps other than her own. I don't remember parking this far from the elevator. Come on car, where are you?

She looked back over her shoulder, thinking she saw someone in the shadows. She stopped, and surveyed the cars she'd passed, wondering if she'd somehow missed her vehicle. She turned to continue and saw her car about ten spaces down. A wave of relief washed over her as she picked up her pace, the clicking of her high-heeled shoes ringing off the concrete walls. Now that she was nearing her car, the shadows seemed to darken — each, seeming to conceal someone with ill intent. It was all in her mind, but she had a hard time convincing herself of that.

Now where are those keys? She stood by her car and fished in her small handbag. In her haste to get to her vehicle, she'd forgotten to have them out. Jesus, KC, she said to herself, You've got to be more careful than this.

After a moment of digging in her bag, and trying to keep an eye on her surroundings, she found her keys. About to disarm the her car's alarm, she noticed something not right. The lighting was poor, and she couldn't make out what was wrong, but something wasn't right about her car. She had to take a step back and bend over before she discovered the problem. She put one hand to the side of her head and stood looking down at what no one wanted to see on their way home, or any other time for matter. Damn, just what I need, a flat tire, she thought, still looking down and not believing her eyes.

A quick look around revealed no one to help. Crap, do I have a spare? I don't know — I've never had a flat before, she thought. How am I going to fix this?

Bending to inspect the deflated tire, trying to decide what to do about it, she heard footsteps coming. She became alarmed, and thought about getting inside the relative safety of her vehicle before the person got too close. The employee's garage didn't have the pedestrian traffic of the visitor's garage, and should be safer, but you never knew, she reasoned.

The slow, heavy, footsteps, echoed off the concrete walls of the garage, indicating a man coming. She looked in the direction of the approaching person, pressing the key-fob, disarming the car' alarm, causing the headlights to flash and the horn to give a short chirp. She'd be ready to get in the car, start the engine, and flat tire or not, drive away if the person looked threatening. After several more paced footsteps, she got a glimpse of who approached. Okay, she thought of the tall man, he's a doctor or intern. A wave of relief washed over her.

At about six-foot-one, he wore a white lab-coat offsetting his chocolate complexion. A stethoscope around his neck, sat atop a pair of broad shoulders.

Thank you, thank you, she thought, surely he'll lend assistance.

As the man got closer, she stepped from beside her car. The handsome man suddenly stopped. She'd startled him. He hadn't heard of anyone being mugged in the employee's garage, but there was always a first time.

Seeing KC in her aide's uniform, he let out a breath. Jesus, woman, you scared me for a second, he said, looking around, alert to a real threat.

Pardon me, Sir, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, but I'm so glad to see you. I have a flat tire and need assistance changing it. Is there any way you can find it in your heart to help me? KC asked, a big smile on her face and looking into his light brown eyes.

The man had an arm full of books, The Principles of Pathology on top, indicating he was an intern. He set the books on the hood of her car and stepped around to look at the offending tire. Of course Miss. Isn't that the way of things, he joked, his broad back facing her as he stooped to get a closer look. "You hurry to your car, ready to get home, or get something to eat, and what do you find — a big rubber blob saying, slow your roll momma, you