Another dreary day -- skies devoid of blue, a steady wind that whipped branches around, announcing the coming of winter. Vince had awakened early; a restless night had forced him from his bed around seven. He had tried to sleep in, attempting to drown himself in the silence and darkness underneath the heavy comforter, but that didn't work. So he rose, and grudgingly went for a run.

He returned an hour later. Glancing around the first floor of his home, a three-story row house a few minutes from Children's Hospital, Vince noticed that there were papers from the previous three Sundays that had yet to be read. Taking in the laptop that lay on the coffee table, he remembered the loads of unanswered e-mails. The cordless phone was positioned snug in the cushion of his couch. Phone calls from several bookstores in Philadelphia and Newark had yet to be returned.

What was he doing?

He was never like this, letting his work pile up.

Last night -- a Friday night -- he remained at home, even though Trey had begged him to come on out -- First Fridays at some spot downtown. You know Trey wouldn't miss those for the world. But Vince declined, saying he had too much work to do -- which was true. Only thing, Vince hadn't accomplished anything. Desiree had phoned too, asking if he wanted some company. He had refused her invitation as well, telling her the same lie he had told Trey. Instead, Vince had sat on the couch all by himself, nursing a Corona in front of his television -- channel surfing the entire evening, watching stuff he could care less about until midnight rolled around, when he finally gave up and went to bed.

It was now after nine a.m. the following day and his stomach growled something fierce. Unfortunately he hadn't the energy to fix himself something to eat. So he reached for the piled up papers and began to go through them. Vince still wore his tight running pants and a Morehouse sweatshirt. His sneakers remained in the foyer by the door.

The doorbell broke his concentration. Vince glanced at the front door and frowned. He was not expecting anyone. He put down the paper and rose from the couch, smoothing out his hair and reaching to scratch at his beard. He knew he looked like a wild man this early in the morning. He hoped it was just FedEx or somebody like that.

Vince opened the door and found himself face to face with Amber.

She was all smiles.

Behind her stood Angeliq - holding up a bag from Krispy Kreme.

Amber's stare traveled down slowly to his feet before bouncing back up. "Nice pants," she quipped while brushing past him into the house. That left Angeliqu - and Vince standing alone.

"Peace offering," she said, handing him the donuts. Angeliqu - grinned and Vince felt his heart bake.

He sat in his kitchen, refreshed from a quick shower, watching them work. Angeliqu - was putting on coffee; Amber was slicing cheese for omelets. They had insisted on commandeering his kitchen; and who was Vince to put up a fight?

Angeliqu - wore a pair of faded jeans, low riding and tight, with pointy black boots and a thin dark sweater. Adorning her head was a Kangol hat. Amber was clad in a pair of oversized sweatpants and a form-fitting cotton tee. Her feet were bare. Vince was still reeling from their surprise visit.

"When did you get in?" he asked.

"Last night. We caught a non-stop and was in D.C. by eight p.m."

"And how did you find me?" Vince asked incredulously.

"That was easy," Angeliqu - mused, eyeing him from the stove where she stir fried onions, green and red peppers, tomatoes, and garlic. The vapors wafted over Vince and he felt his stomach somersault. "You're in the phone book -- a smart move if you're into stalkers."

"Hmmn," he said. Vince still was unsure of how to play this. Good cop or bad -- that was the question. On the one hand, watching them in his kitchen filled his insides with a feeling that he hadn't experienced since New Orleans. But that was tempered by the conversation he and Angeliqué had had a few nights previous. And the images from New Orleans remained...

"And what if I wasn't home?" he asked.

"Oh, I guess we'd be scarfing down these donuts all by ourselves," Amber said, flashing a smile in his direction.

"Right. Well, I am glad to see both of you." Vince stood and went to Amber, who leaned in and gave him a hug. He moved over to the range and slid behind Angeliqu - who was busy at work. She tilted her head up and nuzzled her neck against his. They embraced and kissed gingerly.

"Pass those eggs, Vince, and step back," she said, "it's about to get ugly up in here!"

Thirty minutes later their plates were clean. Omelets and fresh coffee, followed by glazed and jelly-filled donuts had each of them holding their stomachs.

"Damn, after a meal like that I need a nap!" Amber exclaimed.

"I hear that," Vince responded as he cleared the dishes.

"Vince," Angeliqu - said as they watched Amber stretch, "I was hoping you would show me your studio."

He glanced over at Amber who said, "You two go ahead, I'd like to stay here and crash on the couch for a while. If it's cool with Mr. Cannon, Jr. over there?"

Vince grinned. "Make yourself home, but excuse the mess -- my maid quit just last week; I haven't had time to replace her!"

"Yeah right...," Amber said, ambling toward the couch.

She was silent for a long time. Vince observed her from the futon as she contemplated his wall of masks. Angeliqu - moved slowly from one end to the other, studying each one in turn, his masks that each told a story: passion, happiness, anger, sadness. Angeliqu - turned to him with a solemn face.

"Vince, these are incredible. I don't know what to say."

"Thank you." He sipped a mug of coffee as he watched her.

"I didn't know what to expect, but you are really good! You have a God-given talent. Are these hanging in any galleries?"

"Not really," Vince said. He'd been thinking long and hard about making some contacts in the art world so that he could begin selling his pieces. At this point, he had one hanging in Cosi on Capitol Hill, and another in Utopia on U Street.

"Well, you definitely should," Angeliqu - said, joining him on the couch. She leaned against him, taking a sip from her mug. Her frizzy hair blanketed her shoulders, resting on her sweater. Some of her mane fell on Vince. He eyed her silently as her body pressed into his, concentrating on her straight nose, her rich skin, those cheekbones that rose as she spoke. His mind transported him back to New Orleans, and the very first time -- when the two of them had made passionate love that night, the way she had made him feel, out of this world, unparalleled, the passion gushing forth from them both like a geyser. Without fanfare, Vince reached for her face, and placed his lips to hers.

Angeliqu - responded by facing him; in a moment their limbs were intertwined like their tongues. They were silent -- words did not do justice to what they were feeling. His hands raised to her face, lightly caressing her cheeks and lips, probing her mouth, then feeling her nose, running fingers over her eyelids as he pulled back to gaze upon her. Then he bent forward and kissed her again. Moments later, Angeliqu - was atop him, straddling Vince as she squirmed out of her sweater. Her breasts heaved with her breathing, as Vince reached for her pointed nipples.

Cupping her breasts, he felt her warmth transferred between their skins. They kissed ravenously, as if they had been denied sustenance for too long. Glancing upward, Vince watched her from his vantage point below, her eyes that had closed to mere slits, her body that writhed like a serpent as his hands traversed her torso toward her thighs.

Vince lifted her off of him with his powerful arms and returned her to the futon. He stood up and removed his sweater as she watched. Then his jeans slid down his legs, revealing tight briefs that barely contained his engorged state. Angeliqu - reached out to stroke him through the fabric of his underwear, taking her time, running a lazy finger up the shaft as the heel of her boot slowly raked itself against his shin.

Reaching out for his buttocks with both hands, she pulled him to her until he was sandwiched between her thighs, his shins pressed up against the futon's skin. After massaging his ass for a moment, Angeliqu - slowly peeled off his briefs as her stare locked with his -- a devious smile painted on her face. When he had stepped free of his underwear, and stood naked and engorged in front of her, then and only then did she drop her stare, gazing at his member which bobbed inches from her face.

She took him into her mouth, grasping the shaft with an expert hand, tugging on the flesh as she sucked him in, and Vince shut his eyes and threw back his head, reaching out for support because he already felt himself growing weak. She nibbled lightly around the head, using her hand to guide his wand against her teeth and lips, as her tongue flicked against the hole before lowering herself to his sac, lightly squeezing the flesh as she took each testicle into her mouth.

Vince moaned and reached for her breasts, squeezing them between his fingers. His hand snaked down smooth skin to her navel before plunging south, beneath her jeans, searching for the damp cotton of her panties. He flopped out of her mouth, spittle adorning his shaft like a glaze as Angeliqu - wriggled out of her jeans. Moments later she was fully nude, and Vince had to stand back and marvel at her form. She lay back on the futon lengthwise and curled her finger at him, beckoning him to enter.

Vince didn't need to be told twice!

He entered her effortlessly as Angeliqu - wrapped her ankles around his back, her fingers raking his forearms that flexed as he moved. He began slowly, but increased his rapid thrusting, watching himself go in and out below thin brown pubic hair, as her golden navel seemed to contort with each drive.

She was a constriction around him, her neck nuzzling against his as they made love, panting, eyes closed, both waiting for that feeling to waft over them, those passionate sensations that soaked their essence and consumed them once, twice before, down in New Orleans, when the spirit of voodoo priests and priestesses hovered over them like fog.

But it did not come.

Not for Angeliqu - or for Vince.

Beads of sweat pooled in the valley of her back as Vince took her from behind, her unkempt hair like a scraggy vine as he rushed against her flesh, her thrusts meeting his head-on as their bodies blurred.

But that exquisite feeling, the delicious high that comes from consuming one's sensuality like a drug, remained elusive.

Both of them grunted and groaned as Vince attacked Angeliqu - with his fervor, as if accelerating their frenzy might somehow boil their spirits, incite violence inside of them, riot the senses to the point of complete and un-adulterated ardor -- racing past the point of no return, bursting through the wall, to the end...

But as they came simultaneously, streaking through the tunnel toward the sunlight that blazed in, drawing them to the finish line, Vince and Angeliqu - separately discovered that it was not what it could have been...

Not at all what it had been...

They disengaged, slowing their quickened heartbeats, and retreated to separate ends of the futon. For several moments neither spoke, as if they needed the silence to complete the tearing down of the cocoon that had shielded each one from the other's view.

Vince rose naked off the couch. Angeliqu - did not follow him with her stare. Instead she began to don her clothes.

After several minutes of running water, Vince returned. Angeliqu - was fully clothed and studying the wall of masks.

"Can you do me?" she asked softly.

"Hmmn?" Vince had his back to her, his attention at his workbench and the torso life casting of Desiree. The plaster had long since hardened, and yet he studied the rise of her flesh from taut stomach to the peak of her supple breasts, running a hand along its texture as he recalled the real thing: soft, smooth, dark chocolate skin.

"A mask," Angeliqu - said, "I was wondering if you can do one of me?"

"I don't know," Vince responded, his mind a million miles away, suddenly feeling the distress that had been heaved onto his shoulders. His fingertips alighted from the plaster as he turned away from the workbench and back to her -- reflecting on what just had transpired between them, and all that had not. The finality of it all caused him to tremble at his core. "We'll have to see," he said. Angeliqu - turned and nodded, but as she gathered up her things to go, she already knew what his answer would be. © 2007 by Jonathan Luckett

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Excerpted from The Forever Game by Jonathan Luckett
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.