Valentin Pierre, affectionately known as V.P. among friends, is a Haitian brother living in the environs of Vanier, Ontario. Six feet two inches tall, lean and athletic, with dark brown skin and curly dark hair, he is handsome and damn well knows it. A graduate of Ryerson University's School of Architecture, Valentin dreams of becoming a big-shot architect. Unfortunately, a lot of the engineering and architecture firms in the City of Ottawa don't like to hire men of color. What's a brother to do?
Valentin's parents, Jonathan and Marianne Pierre, urge him to return to his birthplace of Scarborough, Ontario, because the job market is not bad this time of year. Valentin found life in the Greater Toronto Area much too expensive, so he's staying put in the Canadian Capital for the time being. Valentin likes having his breathing space. Besides, since his younger sister Joanne is now at Humber College, their parents have plenty to fuss over without getting into Valentin's business. That's exactly how this brother likes it.
Valentin is thinking about returning to school to further his education, since the only gig he found related to his major was a short stint at Inflector, and that only lasted eight months. Since then, Valentin has taken a job as a security guard to pay the bills since engineering, construction and architecture jobs are few and far in between. A brother's got to eat, and all that Jazz. After a long week during which he worked forty two hours, Valentin looked forward to a nice, boring weekend. A knock at his door woke him up that fateful Saturday morning...
"Buenas dias, vaquero, can I come in?" Nene Martinez said, hand on her hip. The tall, curvy Colombian gal stood in Valentin's doorstep, decked out in her dark blue security uniform. With her long curly dark hair flowing down her shoulders, and that coy smile of hers, Nene Martinez looked hot without even trying. Apparently, Nene had come to Valentin's place straight from work. Talk about your morning glory, Valentin thought as he stepped aside to let her in.
"Come on in, cutie," Valentin said with a big grin, and Nene brushed past him, and of course he checked out that fine ass of hers. As a rule, Valentin avoids dealing with coworkers on a sexual or romantic level. He'd been working for the security company for over a year, a supposedly temporary gig he took just to pay some bills before he could get a Canadian government job. Shit happens, Valentin thought, totally rethinking his policy against boning coworkers as he watched Nene Martinez take off her shoes.
"Nice place," Nene said, taking in the dΓ©cor of Valentin's one-bedroom apartment, which could best be described as Walmart chic. Seriously, everything Valentin owned, from the clothes in his armoire to the three stainless steel tables, the five foldable chairs, the utensils in the kitchen drawers, the pans in the cabinets, and the food in the fridge, came from Walmart. The brother lives on a budget, and that's that...
"Yeah, it's alright, so, what brings you over?" Valentin asked, and Nene sat on his couch, looking way too damn comfortable for his liking but whatever. Nene leaned back, stretched, and spread her thick thighs invitingly. Even with cargo pants on, Nene looked smoking hot. Now that she'd taken off her dark blue security jacket, the sky-blue shirt she had on could barely contain those big tits of hers. Miss Colombia had it going on and she damn well knew it.
"I came to see you, Val, I told you I was coming, remember?" Nene asked, thick eyebrows raised. Valentin scratched the back of his head, vaguely remembering the flirtatious texts he'd exchanged with Nene the day before. She reminded him of porn star Becca Diamond, a lady whose work Valentin admired. Valentin put on his best smile, nodded at Nene and went over to his fridge. He grabbed a can of Lakeport Ice, his favorite beer brand, and offered it to the lady as a conciliatory gesture.
"A humble offering to la bonita," Valentin said, and Nene rolled her eyes, then took the beer can. Popping the can open, Nene took a long swig and then wiped her luscious mouth with the back of her hand. She licked her lips and looked Valentin up and down. Valentin felt a pleasant frisson down below as Nene looked at him the way a hungry cat looks at a roving mouse. The curvaceous Latina hadn't come over for beer and chit chat, but to satisfy a very different kind of thirst...
"You can do better than that," Nene chided Valentin, and he watched as she unbuttoned her blue work shirt, and suddenly realized that she wasn't wearing a bra. Valentin walked up to Nene, and held out his hand, as if asking her to dance. Nene grinned and took Valentin's hand, and he pulled her to her feet before kissing her full and deep. Nene grabbed Valentin's ass while kissing him, and he jerked awkwardly.