I released a book yesterday. I’m not sure what number it was. I lost count somewhere around sixty. This morning, I found myself flipping through the pages, spot-checking and reading words I don’t recall writing. I started this book about six years ago, when the pandemic was hitting us all tough. I needed to make sense of the situation. I needed to romance the stress we all felt.
Maid Fohr Love was born out of sheer uncertainty and the fear of the unknown. The reference became too tough for me, so I shelved the book. I was going through the actual crisis while trying to sweeten it. That wasn’t working.
People were dying. Everything had closed. The market was crashing. Nurses were fighting for their lives. Hospitals were full to the brim. People’s ears were peeling from masks. Mothers were birthing babies alone. And, the list continues.
At the beginning of the year, I finally started to get over the madness of COVID. The first project I picked up was Maid Fohr Love. I reworked the outline and tweaked a few story details. When I started penning, my fingers wouldn’t stop.
What I was left with was an undeniable, incredibly beautiful display of love. This book summarizes what it feels like to be adored. Enamored. Considered. Admired. No matter the circumstances.
It puts into words what happens when a man is utterly obsessed with you—in the healthiest way.
While I had so many favorite parts, I’ve chosen one to share with you.
Note: Fohr is mine for the keeping.
Maid Fohr Love - read here.
Draped in a rust-colored two-piece that complemented her orange undertones, Kit waltzed past me as if she didn’t understand the magnitude of her presence and how effective it was on me. Without a care in the world, she disarmed me. Uprooted me. Displaced every feeling I’d ever felt in my entire life and made me wonder if there’d ever been one greater than encountering her.
Nah. I admitted as my lips parted to speak.
Letting her walk away unscathed was not on that list of things to do that I was toying with moments prior. Though she was walking at a somewhat normal rate, it felt like she was moving at a snail’s pace and as swift as a bunny simultaneously. I was unsure of when or how soon I’d lose sight of her.
“Kit–” I called behind her, stopping her in her tracks.
She didn’t move another inch. My voice commanded her attention. Proudly, I stiffened my chest. There wasn’t a ball I’d knocked out of the park or a deal I’d signed that made me feel more accomplished. More successful. More purposeful. Though hard to explain, I didn’t care to explain what was happening inside of me since meeting Kit.
I awaited those orbs I was growing to love seeing as much as I did the rising of the sun each day. She was in no hurry. She never was. On her time and only when she was ready did she turn around. Her shoulders, which had rounded upon hearing her name roll off my tongue, squared as she stood tall.
“Yes, Mr. McClarren.”
Slightly offended by her distinction of our personal and professional relationship, I sniggered.
The things I want to do to you, Ms. Delucca, are far from professional. Everything about that shit is personal.
I allowed my invasive thoughts to linger a few seconds before ignoring Kit’s angle altogether. Instead, I redirected the conversation to the place it was meant to be from the start.
“Your beauty is staggering,” I claimed, “You look– stunning this evening.”
The words settled in as she stared back at me. There was magic in those eyes. A glimpse of pain, but not very much. Everything about Kit told me she was loved well, raised well, taught well, fed well, and courted well at some point or another.
Her sureness told me so. Her confidence told me so. Everything down to her moisturized skin told me so. Kit was to be held to a higher regard than most women. I didn’t make the rule. She did. Her presence did. I was simply meant to abide by it.
“Thank you.”
Her back was visible far too soon. Although I had nothing more to say, I wasn’t quite ready to watch her walk away.
“And, Kit,” I belted, unable to control my impulses.
She stopped again, turning slowly. “Yes?”
“Let that be the last time you call me by my father’s name. It’s Fohr, sweet baby.”
This time, I took off in the opposite direction. I couldn’t bear the thought of watching her leave, again, so I did so myself.
My teeth crashed into each other as I ground them against one another in an attempt to control my limbs. Kit’s magnetism was far too powerful. I had no desire to fight it, but for her sake, it was best.
(scene break)
Every step I made was announced by the polyester used to construct the shorts I’d selected. I descended the staircase with the clear glass in my hand. It was my second time down them in the last few minutes and I was hoping it was my last for a while. The two-story closet seemed like a perfect idea until you couldn’t recall where your things were stored because you didn’t visit your home enough to remember.
The fight I began the second I left Kit in the hallway with her pretty brown skin on full display was useless. So was the list of tasks that served as a temporary distraction. Getting her out of my head proved to be the more difficult task.
I exited my bedroom, conquered the required square footage to reach the sliding doors that extended from one end of the house to the other, and stepped out into the massive backyard of my home. Even with all the land surrounding me, shrinking me in size, there was an incredibly large presence just feet away from me.
The heated jacuzzi hardened her nipples through the top of her swimsuit. A wine glass rested at the tip of her fingers. Her eyes were trained on me. Centrally.
Down boy. I chastised my growing erection. I’d managed to settle Kit’s soul while in close proximity. The last thing I wanted to do was give her a new reason to run in the opposite direction every time I entered a room she didn’t have to be in for the moment.
I was appreciative of the water’s temperature as I lowered my body into the circular structure. Kit observed with curiosity and concern dancing in those irises of hers. Once inside, I didn’t settle.
The journey to her end of the water began. Her chest swelled with air.
“Am I interrupting your free time?” I asked, closing the gap between us without haste.
I was in no hurry to lose control of my limbs, lips, and listening ears. Because, that’s what would happen if I moved any swifter. Instead, I took my time. Held her gaze. And silently assured her that she had little reason to worry.
“I asked you a question,” I reminded her.
Her head swung from one side to the other. There was nothing between us, now, except two inches of bubbling water that fizzled against our skin. She smelled like honey today.
Different.
It was a pleasant, subtle scent that paired well with her pH. Her chest rose higher. Her eyelashes batted, displaying the perfect natural curl at the center of them. They framed her eyes so well.
I’d reached her and she had still forgotten to breathe. Before I lost her permanently, I tipped her chin upward. Finally in contact with her frame again, I was hit with an electric current that made the hair on my back stand.
She’s exhilarating.
Her boredom was tantalizing. It was exciting. It was so damn cute. And, fitting. And, interesting.
“Breathe, Kit.”
For a woman with a sharp memory, her actions were questionable. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember the most important action known to humankind.
She nodded. “Ye– yes.”
Softly, the words fell from her lips.
“Right.”
Her chest deflated as her tongue exited her mouth to wet her lips.
I could’ve done you that favor.
The way I wanted to care for Kit, on levels I didn’t understand myself, was driving me up the fucking wall. The fact that I was forced to take my time and lean into the idea of having her in my world when this was all over should’ve been doing the same, but it wasn’t.
Strangely, it was giving me the opportunity to carefully craft the demise of her burdens, barriers, and boundaries the actions of another nigga had caused her to adopt. Whether she understood it or not, I’d claimed her as my own and would do anything to have her. Even if not now, someday, and that day would have to be sooner than later.
“Are you comfortable?”
Soundlessly, she nodded. I accepted her response for what it was. The truth.
I stepped closer, not stopping until our bodies touched.
“Still comfortable?”
She nodded.
“Good.”
I placed my glass on the concrete behind her. When I hoisted her up and into my arms, a gasp seeped through her lips. Naturally, her legs wrapped around me, encasing me in her frame.
Right here. I was exactly where I wanted to be. Not for a brief second but for many moons.
“And, now.”
A lustful haze clouded her orbs.
“Yesss,” she mumbled.
“Go on a date with me, Kit.”
“We’re stuck inside,” she stated, leaning into me to hide her flushed cheeks and dewy skin.
I shrugged. “Which will only fuel my creativity. I don’t need excuses, sweet baby. I need answers.”
“I love my job, Fohr–”
My name falling off her lips was icing on the cake. I wanted to push her swimsuit aside and drive my hammer up her walls. But, I remained still. I had a lifetime to fuck her body. For now, I wanted nothing more than to fuck her mind something awful. If done right, I’d have unrestricted access to her well.
“And, admittedly, I love the idea of allowing you to have your way with me, but my head and my heart are both advising me to keep things strictly professional.”
“One of them is lying to you, Kit. You’re in my arms, your legs are around my waist, and your pussy is pressed against my dick– I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you are not keeping still. You’ve run the length of it twice since you opened your mouth. We’re past professional.”
“I am your maid.” She sighed, closing her eyes.
I placed my lips near her left ear.
“Who was made for love,” I expressed.
When I pulled back, her eyes were on mine, again.
“It seeps through your pores. Your spirit has been beckoning for me since I saw her. You’re a woman that doesn’t deserve lonesomeness, even as a form of protection. You deserve to be pampered, cared for, and loved like there’s no tomorrow. Kit, I have a feeling I can be the guy that gives that to you. And, without a doubt, I understand what it is you can give me.”
I am Grey Huffington, Black Romance writer, emphasizing the slowness, softness, and stillness Black women desire and deserve. If you love the story you’re reading, I have a full catalog of books just like it. You can find them on Amazon or at greyhuffington.com. Sometimes my store is closed so that I can practice self-control when it comes to my artistry. If you bump into that issue, don’t worry. It’ll reopen when my impulsiveness is not so overwhelming.
Suggested Books to Start:
Long + consuming: Luca
Serial reading: Luca
A feel-good novel: Jagged Edges
An ode to women: Sensitivity
Short + sweet: Temple
Straight to the point: As we Learn (followed by As we Love)
City-Romance: Syx + the City
For a full list of recommendations, visit greyhuffington.com. For the full catalog (in order), visit my Instagram feed.
I just finished Maid Fohr Love and it was beautiful
Mid-week, a wave of emotions hit me…and somehow i wanted to reread this book….i wanted a place for my overwhelming feelings to go….ha, this is one of my comfort reads for sure. 🥰🥰🥰🥰