One Safe Place by Alvin L. A. Horn Page A

detail down on the street.” As always, he doesn’t respond to statements or questions that don’t really need to be answered or responded to.
    â€œI know they’re not the best security, but the college provided them. I’m okay, babe, nothing will happen to me.”
    â€œYou may not be on the world stage anymore, but people still want to cause you harm. If you are coming here, I want to know so I can put my people on you to protect you, okay?”
    I’m a woman who runs shit, and one of the beauties of being with Psalms is I can hand control to him and completely trust him and his love. I can be a black woman first and foremost and drop all the public image of how I’m an American patriot only.
    I nod my head and let Psalms know I understand he wants to protect me, and I should have informed him I was coming. He’s not trying to keep me away from an unexpected visit. Psalms Black is almost too honest. He will hurt my feelings with his brutal honesty, so he will tell me to go if that’s what he wants.
    I know about his other woman, the one for love with no sex. I know he has protected her from herself for most of her life. She’s no threat to me, but I don’t like it. I could do something about it. I do think about doing something. Maybe I should, but I know who I am. I understand my worth in his world. I know no other woman can do for him what I can. If someone were to think less of me for how I feel—oh well. I love that man: he will be all mine one day, and one day soon. But for now, we lead an almost secret life.
    I worked my ass off to be the most powerful woman in the world, often thought of as much as the president I served under and by some, liked more. At my service and assistance, I had the Secret Service, the FBI, the CIA and Homeland Security for certain situations. I’ve met and made connections; I’ve made friends to help me in my endeavors, all for Psalms and I have to have a life together.
    Psalms removes his shirt and is headed to his room. I make myself another morning eye-opener and wait until I hear the shower running. I always anticipate him taking me hard and forceful with very little foreplay. The thought alone makes me almost too wet. I love him sliding in his hardness when I haven’t kissed it or touched it yet it, and taking it and giving it to me hard.
    Some Sunday mornings, I’ve been on different national TV talk shows: Face the Nation, Meet the Press, This Week, and yes, even the Fox Network’s Fox News Sunday. Most people watch and see me as classy, graceful, educated, and skillful in how I answer questions that could cause political wars, or wars period.
    Most never think I have another side that just wants my man to hold and pin me down, and pound his hardness into me as if he is trying to hurt me. I raise my ass to that in a toast. If most knew of the places our tongues go, they would write laws to put me in prison. Bill Clinton slid a cigar into his mistress’ ass. Many think a lady should never do certain things, but this lady does it all and can’t wait until the next time.
    The queen farts with her royal elitist facade, and I love rough, hard-pounding sex, despite what my public wants to think of my persona of gracefulness.
    Right now, I’m stripping down and joining my ex-Secret Service agent in the shower to go help him relax, and for me to get off.

CHAPTER 6
Someone Could Get Hurt
    T he stereo was loud, but not enough to keep people from holding conversations. Ledisi caressed her sexy voice in to her version of D’Angelo’s “Brown Sugar” through the speakers. Seattle’s morning sunshine ended up fighting with the clouds and lost. Grayness now was the color of the day on the Seattle skyline.
    Holding court at mid-day at Uncle’s BBQ, Psalms sat at a table with Suzie Q and Tylowe. The two guys had sides of red beans and rice, greens, and yams with a beef hot link for lunch.