by Tia Sirrah
The master of ceremony began to speak, garnering the attention of the audience. Conner whispered in my ear, "Let’s get some fresh air. I want some alone time with you."
"Wouldn’t that be rude? The keynote speaker is about to take to the podium," I whispered. I also knew that if we left before the speech commenced, my name would be highlighted on Mrs. Brathwaite’s shit list. She had been eyeing me suspiciously from across the table throughout our entire meal. Every time Conner showed any affection towards me, her disapproval was evident. If it were acceptable and legal, she probably would have thrown her steak knife at me.
"I don’t give a fuck," he calmly whispered in my ear.
"You’re impossible," I said as I removed the cloth napkin from my lap. Perhaps going outside was a good idea, as it would deter Conner from drinking the second double shot of bourbon that the waiter had brought him.
"Father, if you’d excuse us," he said as he rose and pulled my chair out for me.
"Sure, son," Mr. Brathwaite said. Mrs. Brathwaite narrowed her eyes at me before averting her attention back to the master of ceremony.
Conner led me out of the ballroom and outside into the warm night air. Hand in hand, he led me around to the back of the mansion. We went through a secluded gate and up a narrow flight of stairs, which led to a private balcony. The balcony’s barrier was encased with white marble railings. Built-in lighting glowed within the marble deck floors. "Wow," I said, my heels softly clacking as I walked across the deck. "This is incredible." Majestic forest views surrounded us. I looked up into the clear starry sky and breathed in the warm night air.
Conner, with his hands in his pockets, looked around at his surroundings and shrugged. It aggrieved me that he took such beautiful things for granted, almost jaded by it all. "I haven’t lived here since I was seventeen. I moved in with Quentin and his family when I returned from boarding school. I haven’t been back since then."
"Really?" I had so many questions, but they ceased on my tongue. Whatever he wanted to share tonight would be enough for now.
I walked over to the marble railing and leaned against it, looking out at the landscape below us. Conner approached me from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist. I leisurely leaned my head back against his chest and rested my body into the curve of his. Silence engulfed us with only the faint sounds of the keynote speaker heard off in the distance. Crossing my arms over his, I said, "I love it out here. It’s so peaceful. Do you think you’ll be missed if we don’t head back in right away?"
"We can stay out here for as long as you’d like." He rested his chin on top of my head, as his body enveloped mine.
I turned around to face him, resting my hands on his chest. "I appreciate it— you bringing me here to meet your parents." I searched his eyes and ran the palm of my hand across his jaw. "But we don’t ever have to come back to this place." He sighed deeply and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
His expression softened as he tucked a loosened curly tendril behind my ear. Being back in his childhood home probably brought up a lot of unwanted memories about his brother. I had an inkling that this gala had to do with his brother’s death.
"Did I tell you how incredible you look tonight?" He nuzzled his nose into my hair before planting kisses along my freckles.
"Maybe once or twice." I parted my lips for him, our tongues teasing and seducing, stroking and sucking. He tasted like bourbon; his soft lips warm to touch. "What if someone comes out here and sees us," I said as his hand seductively roamed up my exposed thigh.
"Oh. The fuck. Well," he said, emphasizing every word, before trailing his tongue across my collar bone, planting soft kisses in its wake. Everywhere he touched, heat followed. His hand traveled up to my bare hip bone and then to the thin strap of my thong. While kissing the swells of my breasts, he reached underneath my panties and palmed my sex. "You’re so wet for me."
His other hand gripped my hair and pulled my head back slightly to expose the column of my throat. I stifled a moan as he lightly pressed his thumb on my clit and made lazy circles.
My breaths came quick. I moaned his name; all other thoughts and words were incoherent. My moans started to sound animalistic and foreign to my own ears.
"You’re always so responsive," Conner whispered in my ear.
Heat began to build up in my body, starting from my toes, spreading up my legs, and forming in my gut. Applying more pressure, his thumb moved faster. His lips made their way back to my mouth. Simultaneously, his tongue entered my mouth as he thrust two longs fingers inside of me.
He hooked his fingers inside of me, hitting my g spot and causing my eyes to slam shut. My legs began to tremble uncontrollably. My thighs were embarrassingly slick with my arousal, as was his hand. I broke away from our kiss as a moan escaped from my lips.
"That’s right, baby. Cum for me," he whispered. I clenched around his fingers. Conner’s thumb eased its pressure, and his fingers slowed their thrusting as an orgasm washed over and through me. I pressed my face into the lapel of his tuxedo jacket, and I groaned in ecstasy.
His heart beat loudly against me, and his erection pressed into my stomach. Upon removing his fingers from my sex, he grabbed onto the side of my thong and with one quick tug, tore it off.
"Hey, I liked those," I said, still breathless and looking up at him with wonder.
He tucked them into his jacket pocket. "They’re mine now."
I pressed my body into him, feeling the column of his cock against me. I ran my hands down his chest and over his abs, then lower. I began to stroke the length of him over his trousers. "I’m two seconds away from fucking you over this balcony," he said, his voice thick with arousal.
"I’m not having sex with you on your parent’s balcony." I tsked. "Never going to happen."
"Then you should stop now," he calmly warned. My hands froze on the hard outline of his cock before removing my hand. He smirked, his eyes vivid and sharp. "Tease," he joshed before softly kissing my lips. "Let’s get you home."
I nodded and adjusted my gown back in to place for the second time that night. Conner adjusted himself, but it did very little to disguise his massive erection. "Oh, my goodness. You can’t go out there like that! Take your jacket off and drape it over your arm in front of you.
"Your fault," he said, as he took his tuxedo jacket off and complied.
"Should we go back in and say our goodbyes?"
"That may not be the best idea," he said, looking down at his barely concealed bulge.
"You’re right," I chuckled.
Conner escorted me down the steps and back to our awaiting car. He cradled me in his lap the entire way home. Once we were at my front door, he asked me once again, "Last chance. Come to Chicago with me?"
"Baby, I can’t go," I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
"Thought it was worth one more try," he said. "You owe me lots and lots of phone sex."
"Hell yeah," I readily agreed, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"Lock up when I leave, okay?"
"Okay. Have a safe flight. I’ll miss you."
"I’ll miss you more," he said before he passionately kissed me goodbye.
Chapter 10
OVER THE NEXT COUPLE of months, Conner and I became inseparable. We were four months into our relationship, and our lives seamlessly blended together, rarely spending a night apart. Since the night of the gala, we hadn’t stepped foot inside of his parents' home. However, we did join Conner’s father for dinner, meeting him at a restaurant downtown. Coincidentally, Martina wasn’t in attendance, as she was recovering from cosmetic surgery. Kenneth’s personal assistant, Yanna, attended in Martina’s stead. Yanna was a Dominican woman in her late thirties. She wore a sleeveless red sheath dress which complimented her dark chocolate skin. Her jet-black curly hair was cut short in a tapered afro, its luscious locks cascading forward over her deep-set dark brown eyes.
Kenneth and Yanna arrived only a few minutes after us. He led her to our table wit
h his hand on the small of her back. It was such an intimate gesture between two colleagues. I turned to Conner to gauge his take on their familiarity with one another. Conner’s face was unreadable as he watched the two of them. Upon approaching our table, introductions were made. Over dinner, Conner and his father interacted as two business partners would, discussing mergers and acquisitions. Kenneth was pleasant and charming towards me, and he openly flirted with Yanna. Conner observed their interaction with a calm irritation that was expertly masked by a look of boredom. Conner slightly winced when Yanna used the pad of her thumb to wipe a drop of sauce off Kenneth’s lip. I clasped Conner’s hand under the table as we watched Yanna and Kenneth openly make advances towards one another.
After dinner while in the car, I mentioned to Conner, "So…Yanna. She’s friendly. Did you know about the two of them?"
A brooding Conner replied dryly, "I did."
"I see." I rested my hand on his thigh. He clasped my hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss, before resting our joined hands between us. We drove the rest of the way home in silence.
Upon returning to his place, Conner excused himself to his home office. I excused myself to bed and waited for him to come to me. And he did, during the still of the night. He reeked of bourbon, and his touch was rough and desperate, lacking intimacy.
After withdrawing from me, our bodies were slicked with sweat, and our chests heaved with staggered breaths. Without so much as a goodnight kiss, Conner rolled off me and onto his stomach. He passed out without uttering a single word.
∞∞∞
WE INVITED MY PARENTS over for dinner at Conner’s place. Unfortunately, my father declined our invitation. Helena, however, graciously accepted our invite. Dinner was a success. Conner passed her "test" with flying colors, answering all the questions she had for him to her satisfaction.
After dinner, I walked Helena to her car, our arms linked. "I like him. He’s a bit of an enigma, but I can tell that he’s crazy about you."
"You really like him?" I was relieved and giddy. Helena, like my father, was ridiculously hard to please.
"Yes, sweetheart. Conner didn’t come in the package that your father and I imagined, but he’s quite a catch. He’ll be able to provide for you in a way that you’ve become accustomed to, even more so than I’ve ever dreamed for you."
"I don’t care about his money, Helena." It was off-putting that his net worth seemed to be a significant factor in Helena’s favorable opinion of him.
"I know, sweetie. But let’s face it. You’ll need a little help in that department since you quit dental school."
To say that my parents were disappointed in me for dropping out of dental school was an understatement. "I thought we went over this. I’ll be going back in the fall. Just with a different major."
"I know, Novalee. We just had other plans for you. You’ve made so many changes, as of late. It’s hard to keep up sometimes."
We now stood at her white Lexus convertible. She tweaked my septum piercing with her finger and fluffed my curls while pursing her lips. I defiantly held my head up high. Gone were the days of hiding who I really was to appease my parents. I was finally doing what I wanted to do when it came to my education and my future. I was with the man that I…dare I say loved, no matter what my father thought about it. "I’m still the same person, Helena. I’m just finally living my life by my own rules. I’m happy. So be happy for me."
She gently cradled my jaw. "Oh, honey, I love you. And I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. Just be patient with us…especially with your father."
"I will, but dad is overreacting. It’s not like I got a face tattoo or joined a cult. Goodness." I was tired of fitting into the box that my father had for me. During the first twelve years of my life, he was content with being a very part-time father and a full-time financial contributor. When I moved in with him, his heavy-handed approach to fatherhood took some getting used to. He had an opinion about everything, from how I wore my hair, to the style of my clothes, to the way I spoke, and my educational path. My schedule for a twelve-year-old consisted of therapy, etiquette classes, private tutors, piano lessons, and cooking lessons. I tried hard to please him over the years, still not one hundred percent sure that his love for me was unconditional.
"I’ll work on your father. Tell Conner to work on his mother, because you will not tolerate disrespect." Helena and I embraced, and she settled into her car. "You get along okay with his father?"
"Mr. Brathwaite is very kind. He seems to be supportive of our relationship."
"Good. Times have changed, you know. And besides, you’re not some ghetto hoochie mama from around the way. You are a beautiful, cultured, educated, and sophisticated young woman. You come from a good family. Men have always been weak in the knees over you. So many of my sorors and colleagues want to set you up with their sons. Conner is lucky to have you in his life."
"I know."
"Good. Never forget your worth. You are loved. You are wanted." This was something Helena repeated to me often. She had the uncanny ability to know just when I needed to hear it.
"Love you, Helena. Drive safe," I said as I closed her door.
"Love you, too." She daintily waved her hand before driving off Conner’s estate.
Chapter 11
TWO WEEKS IN CHICAGO with my boyfriend. I couldn’t have asked for a better time for the boutique to be closed for renovations, allowing me the time off from work. Conner and I stayed at the Brathwaite Hotel located in the Gold Coast area of Chicago. I spent my days being pampered with luxurious spa treatments and extravagant shopping sprees, while Conner spent his days at work in the Chicago office. Our nights were spent sightseeing and going to fancy dinners, and we always ended our evenings with our bodies connected as one.
"Shouldn’t you reschedule?" I asked as I stood in front of the hotel vanity mirror, applying hair gel to my curls.
He stood beside me, deftly tying his tie. "You can handle it. Just pick the one you like, and I’ll make the offer."
Conner wanted to purchase a place in the windy city and wanted me to accompany him on his house hunt. However, due to an impromptu meeting called by his father, he was unable to meet with his realtor. He asked me to go alone, in his stead.
"You’re leaving that up to me?" I shrieked. "You want me to select a home for you?" I stood there dumbfounded as I stared at him in the mirror.
"You’ll be fine. And you’re selecting a home for you. A place for us to stay whenever we come to visit. I’m putting your name on the deed," he stated matter of factly, before kissing my forehead and strolling out of the master bathroom.
I balked and followed behind him. "Why would you do that? That’s too much. It’s all too much. The shopping sprees, the jewelry, the new car, and now a new home? You don’t have to do all of this," I stressed, and not for the first time. Conner gladly gave me his time, his body, his loyalty, and his money. But what I really wanted was his whole heart. I wanted the secrets that he hid behind his eyes and his fancy suits. And I yearned to hear those three little words.
"No, I don’t have to do it. I want to. So, let me." He slipped his arms through his suit jacket before grabbing his briefcase.
I stood there, flabbergasted. Conner talked about buying me a house as if he were buying me a cup of coffee. In times like these, I was reminded of his billion-dollar net worth, and the stark differences in our lifestyles. I fidgeted from one barefoot to the other. I was topless, only wearing blue Wonder Woman cotton panty briefs. I looked up at a sophisticated, impeccably dressed Conner. His armor for today was a custom-made Brioni navy blue suit, Cartier cuff links, Italian leather shoes, and a Rolex watch. Underneath his suit, he wore designer undergarments. His entire outfit cost more than the average family size car. Although I came from an upper-class family with my parents comfortably earning close to a half a million dollars per year, the differences between Conner and I were glaring to the outside world. "Stop overthinking this," he said, breaking
into my thoughts. "I’ll be back by 7. We’ll go out to dinner when I return." He skimmed the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.
I nodded and smoothed my hand down his red tie. The same tie that he used last night to bind my wrists. My cheeks heated, just thinking about it.
"You’re blushing," he teased, before squeezing my backside.
"Can you blame me after last night?" Conner was a kinky bastard, and my body thoroughly enjoyed every part of his kinky. Over the last few months, his fingers, tongue, and cock had explored every part of my body. He recently introduced me to being spanked while having my wrists bound. He was dominating during sex, as much as he was in every other aspect of his life. The only times he would relinquish control was when I was on top of his glorious body, riding him or sucking him into oblivion.
I raised up on my tippy toes, and our mouths met in a tender kiss. "Lisa will meet you in the lobby at noon. You have a spa appointment at 9." He kissed me once more before heading out.
∞∞∞
ROOM SERVICE WAS DELIVERED just as the esthetician, massage therapist, and manicurist exited our suite. A platter of fruit, warm buttery croissants, bacon, eggs, and pomegranate juice was arranged on the dining table of our three thousand square foot suite. I nibbled on the mouthwatering food while getting dressed. I slipped on a short orchid-purple, embroidered peasant style dress, made by yours truly. I donned a pair of wedges, along with my pendant necklace, bracelets, and large hoop earrings. I diffused my curls and inspected the makeup that the esthetician had applied. She used a shimmer bronzer and a soft summer makeup palette, giving me the natural look that I preferred. I grabbed my bag and headed out to meet Conner’s agent.
As I entered the grand lobby of the hotel, I was approached by a striking thirty-something-year-old Black woman with a short, cropped, pixie haircut. She introduced herself as Lisa Finley. Lisa was stunning and classy in a Ralph Lauren pants suit and a pearl necklace of equal sophistication. A pair of sky-high Louboutins completed her outfit. After we exchanged pleasantries, we ate a light lunch in the hotel restaurant while getting better acquainted. Lisa’s husband, Daryl Finley, worked on Conner’s legal team. She and Daryl met in undergrad at Howard University. Upon graduating from Howard Law School, Daryl accepted a position with Brathwaite Inc.’s Chicago division.
