Donna Hill - Love Becomes Her

He’d had surgery on his knee and was assigned to her for rehabilitation. Her job was to get him ready to resume his position in the NBA. His job, it seemed, was to get her in a position in his bed.

Why a young, gorgeous, wealthy man like Michael would be interested in a widow old enough to be his mother—and at least ten pounds overweight—Barbara couldn’t fathom. Genetics played a big role in her smooth caramel-brown complexion, but was also responsible for her forty-two-inch hips and forty-C bustline. Maybe that was it, she surmised. Perhaps he had some kinky mother fixation.

Not a chance, according to Michael.

He’d told her on more than one occasion that he thought of her in a lot of ways, but never as his mother….

began writing novels in 1990. Since that time, she’s had more than forty titles published, which include full-length novels and novellas. Two of her novels and one novella were adapted for television. She has won numerous awards for her body of work. She is also the editor of five novels, two of which were nominated for awards. She easily moves from romance to erotica, horror, comedy and women’s fiction. She was the first recipient of the Trailblazer Award and currently teaches writing at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center. Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her Web site at www.donnahill.com.

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This novel is dedicated to my Aunt Marjorie who instilled in me from the instant I could read the love of books and writing. Thank you Auntie!

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for choosing Love Becomes Her, the first book in the PAUSE FOR MEN series. I do hope you enjoyed meeting Barbara, Stephanie, Ann Marie and Elizabeth and the men who love them. Whoever said that moving past forty was time to turn in your pumps, haven’t met “the girlz”!

I had a great time crafting their stories and hopefully bringing you some moments of entertainment and enlightenment. Each of their stories is about taking a stand for yourself and not being afraid when confronted with the obstacles that life throws in your path.

Stay tuned for the next installment, Saving All My Loving, which will feature Ann Marie and her dilemma when her estranged husband, Terrance Bishop, wants to come back in her life. There are more twists and turns in store for Barbara, Stephanie and Elizabeth, as well. But, of course, I can’t give it away. You’ll have to read the book!

Donna Hill

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

The winds of change blew a nasty gust of havoc from one end of Morningside Drive to the other. It knocked over unchained garbage cans, rattled windows and stirred up unswept trash. As fate would have it, there were only a selected few whose doors were not only knocked on but kicked in.

Barbara Allen lifted the sheer white curtain from her third-floor bedroom window and peeked outside. The sky was dull gray, the clouds as heavy as a maternity ward of expectant mothers. Stately brownstones were shrouded in fog, reminiscent of a scene out of an old English movie, but the lively radio voices of the KISS FM Wakeup Club playing in the background made the surreal come down to earth.

“Thank God it’s Friday.” She dropped the curtain back into place before sitting on the side of her bed.

She stuck her feet into her thick-soled white shoes, the third piece of her standard white ensemble. Finding something to wear five days a week hadn’t been a problem for close to fifteen years. As a licensed rehabilitation therapist, white was de rigueur.

Barbara enjoyed her work at New York’s Cornell University Medical Center. On the orthopedic unit where she worked, she’d met everyone from the grandmother with a hip replacement to the star athlete with a torn tendon.

She picked up her carryall bag from the foot of the bed and walked into her living room en route to the front door, but stopped short. Two empty wineglasses sat in proud accusation on her coffee table. A hot flash from the previous evening played with her mind: a little wine, some easy jazz, a cool breeze and a man young enough to be her son.

The alarm of her cell phone rang on her hip, its gentle vibration sending an unexpected thrill to shimmy down the inside of her thighs. It had been a long time if the vibration from a cell phone could get her going. Maybe she should have let that young boy stay the night. What he may have lacked in experience he could make up for with energy. She chuckled to herself at the ridiculousness of the notion and wondered what the girls would have to say. What she should have done was never let him within ten feet of her apartment in the first place. What had she been thinking? Hmmph, she knew what she’d been thinking. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and not a minute too soon.

Barbara gingerly picked up the glasses with the tips of her fingers as if they had the power to mysteriously conjure Michael up if she stroked them too hard—like a genie in a bottle. Holding them away from her body she went to the kitchen and deposited them in the sink, but not before being pulled into the watery remains that floated in the bottom of the glasses…warm hands, seductive words, sexual starvation…the kiss…almost. Grrrr. With a shake of her head she pushed the images aside, slung her bag onto her shoulder and headed out. She was much too old to be longing after that young boy as if he was dessert, she scolded herself while locking the front door. But if just thinking about him felt this good, then… Barbara, don’t let yourself get tripped up in those thoughts. Too long in the unholy state of abstinence must be frying your brain, girl.

She trotted down the three flights of stairs, her standard shoulder-length ponytail bouncing behind her. She hurried passed the doors of her sleeping neighbors, careful when passing old man Carter’s door so as not to stir up that maniac fox terrier of his that thought it was a pit bull. The dog was no bigger than a cat, but noisy enough to wake up the whole building. She chuckled to herself. If she didn’t get caught in any unexpected traffic on FDR Drive she should arrive at the hospital in plenty of time to get some coffee and relax before her shift started at eight.

The hospital rehab ward was where she’d met Michael Townsend six months earlier and where her current dilemma began.