Café Mocha is the author’s first and only erotic romance short story, centering on a woman who decides to change her way of thinking when it comes to meeting men.

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Cinnamon Jones is a divorcée, who has decided to change her way of thinking when it comes to meeting men. No more will she settle for someone who does not measure up to her high standards, which she did when she first met her husband, Horatio Jones. When he became successful, he dumped her. However, after she meets Ray Samuel in a Café, sparks will fly. Will Cinnamon find true love, or will she end up making the same mistake twice?




A beautiful and voluptuous woman, Cinnamon was 42 years old and stood five feet, ten inches tall. She had the mannerisms of a queen, wore tailor-made outfits, which accentuated her hourglass figure and selected exquisite jewelry, highlighting her exotic features. Whenever she walked down the street, heads would turn.

She had an exceptional gift for getting male clients to bid on properties, often sight unseen. Many of these men would attempt to outbid each other on prime spaces just to have a sexual encounter with her, but married men were, definitely, off limits. Her ex-husband betrayed her with his infidelity, which was a bitter pill to swallow, so she would never sleep with another woman’s husband or bestow such pain or disrespect on herself or on the wife. What goes around comes around, she reflected.

Every Friday morning, Cinnamon would stop at Café Mocha, a popular espresso bar; she would order her favorite delicacies. This is where she conducted most of her business. She rarely invited clients, especially male patrons, to her home. Therefore, the café was an excellent setting to meet potential buyers.

While Cinnamon was waiting for the waiter to take her order, a man walked into the café. She saw him and thought, Oh my goodness! Where have you been hiding, Mr. Hottie?  Looking in her direction, he smiled. It was as though his eyes were transmitting sensual messages to her. If he were a cup of hot chocolate, she would have gulped him down like a ravenous succubus.

The stranger looked debonair in his navy blue suit. He was tall, handsome, mysterious, and seductive. He had the physique of a bronze warrior. His intense brown eyes were mesmerizing; his chiseled face was riveting, and his succulent lips were starting to rouse those lust demons inside of her. Most likely, he is a stockbroker, bond trader, or hedge fund manager, she imagined. As he walked toward her, she was beginning to feel fiery.

“Good morning, ma’am. Is this seat taken?” he asked in a sexy voice.

“No. Please, have a seat,” she replied, feeling elated that he came to her table.

“My name is Ray Samuel. Your face looks so familiar. Have we met before?”

“It is nice to meet you, Mr. Samuel. No. We have never met. When it comes to faces, I have a photographic memory. My name is Cinnamon Jones, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said in a flirtatious manner. By now, her juices were flowing as though the floodgates had ruptured, and her panties were starting to get damp.


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