Step By Step, Inch By Inch, He Took Me (Black World Order)

At 47, Dana's life was predictable. A successful business consultant by day, wine and solitude by night. Since her divorce two years ago, intimacy had been reduced to whispers of memory and late-night fantasies. She had built her life back up piece by piece—but something in her still longed for chaos, for touch, for sweat and skin. And lately, those needs had started slipping into the daylight.  When the kitchen faucet started leaking, it wasn't a big deal—until it was. She called the number her neighbor recommended. "e;Marcus Plumbing. He's young but good,"e; the neighbor had said. Dana expected a clipboard and coveralls. She didn't expect temptation in the form of a six-foot-four, dark-skinned man with arms carved like statues and a voice that rumbled through her bones.