Hello my lovelies! I'm suffering from writers block, but can't seem to get rid of a bunch of sexual scenarios in my head. So, I'm making this smut book for my beautiful Black women.
All men in this book will be my favorite celebrity crushes so enjo...
[A/N: Tom Hardy....Thanks for coming to my Ted talk]
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Edward Thomas Hardy, that name caused fear to run through the veins of the people of London. But, it also brought a sense of peace to the few who needed it. Poverty was very low in London once Tom took over his father's legacy, built on fear and power, the Hardy name was not one to take lightly.
Tom has taken his father's riches and has used it to build homeless shelters that took in the homeless and got them back on track in the best way. Drug and substance abuse counseling, a real and guaranteed chance at a new and better life, which included learning social skills, college, and a job if that's what you wanted to pursue.
A lot of people saw him as a savior to the low class, others saw him for what his family "was" a wolf in sheep's clothing, preying in the weak and vulnerable. But, truly Mr. Hardy did have good intentions, however, that didn't mean he didn't get his hands dirty when needed.
What a lot of people didn't know is that despite his cold, no bullshit demeanor, is a huge teddy bear, but only his beloved wife and children see that side of him.
After a long day of press and knocking a few heads, Tom walks into his beautiful home and is greeted by his housekeeper.
"Mr. Hardy, welcome home." She took his suit jacket and smiled politely at him.
"Cynthia, is my wife home?" He asked.
"Out back with your son and daughter." Cynthia nods and excuses herself.
Tom walks with purpose towards the back of the huge home, towards the sliding glass doors that lead to the beautiful backyard. A rare and genuine smile spreads across his handsome face, making him look younger than the 44 year old he is.
"Taylor! Over here sweetheart!" I call for my sweet daughter, who just turned 3. She's chasing after our two dogs.
She smiles and runs towards me, her arms outstretched. I pick her up in my arms and squeeze her tight, kissing her chubby cheeks.
"Mommy, did you see that? I hit it right in the goal!"
My son, who mirrors his father in every way, yells happily at me.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart I didn't. But, I'm proud regardless." I kiss his soft mane of hair and he grabs my hand.
We walk over to the deck and I see my breath taking husband, watching us. A soft smile, tugging at his plump lips.
"Dad!" James yells as he runs up to his Tom.
He bends and picks up his 6 year old son.
"Ey, my sweet boy. You do your homework?" Tom asks.
James nods his head, causing his brunette curls to bounce around his head. Tom kisses his son and sets him down, to embrace me and his daughter.
