Davonte was back in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face.
"I'm sorry Davonte," Keisha apologized softly when she had crawled back in the bed beside her husband. "I felt so anxious about tomorrow and everything that's been going on that I began to feel so sick."
And it's not like I wanted to do the shit in the first place.
For a moment, Davonte continued to stare up at the ceiling with his mask of anger...but then his handsome features softened and he took his wife up in his arms.
Kissing her on the forehead, he said, "Don't worry about it Keisha. My selfish ass should not have asked you to do that, knowing what you going through. I totally deserved that shit, getting carried away like that." He kissed her on the forehead. "I'm sorry baby."
This was the second time her husband had apologized that night, but Keisha was beginning to wonder if he even meant them. He knew she was stressed the hell out, yet he insisted on having her give him head, even going as far to act like a wild bull, causing her to throw up.
Whatever the case, she knew if she did not start working on their sex life, those cum stains she had saw on his boxers, would soon turn into something else.
Snuggling against Davonte's firm chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, Keisha drifted off into worried sleep.
Chapter 5
"I wonder who the new math teacher is?" Joseph Hunter asked his buddies as they huddled at the back of their first period class.
"Probably some fat ass bitch," Randal Baker replied, not mentioning the fact he looked like Pillsbury Dough Boy with his cherubic face, top-heavy torso and skinny legs.
"If it's a hot milf, I'll be the first one to bang that shit," Anthony Lilly boasted, flexing his muscles, crinkling his pale face into a lewd grin.
Seventeen-year old Zack Palmer did his best to ignore his friends. It didn't matter to him who their teacher was. He was a math ace. He could have just skipped the class for the rest of the year if he wanted and still get an A+.
Their math teacher, Mrs. Witherby, had had a nasty stroke that had placed her into early retirement. The school had quickly reacted by rotating several substitutes to fill the vacancy while they searched for a replacement. After weeks, they had finally filled the spot with someone available for the rest of the school year.
And today was the day they would finally get to meet their new teacher.
The entire classroom was buzzing with anticipation, all wondering who it would be.
"Yeah right, limp dick," Randal snorted, scratching at his white shirt, part of the uniform North High's students was forced to wear. "The only thing you'll be banging is those nuts against Aikman's head."
"Fuck you, fatty," Anthony shot back with a contemptuous glance thrown at Randal's portly belly. Anthony was on the wrestling team and a gym nut. Totally fit and possessing a washboard stomach, he despised those who were out of shape.
A running joke between the seniors, Randal made fun of Anthony because of how intimate wrestling was. Most guys thought it was gay to get up close on another guy like wrestlers had to do, an image that was made all more poignant by the picture of Anthony and Clay Aikman, a fellow wrestler, in last year's school year book.
Anthony could be seen with his body twisted at an odd angle, his nuts resting comfortably atop Clay's head as he struggled to break free. Randal constantly teased him about the photo, usually pissing Anthony off.
"You mad?" Randal asked.
"No you're mad, fag," Anthony growled. "You probably can't even see your dick without lifting up all those fat, fucking rolls."
"At least my nuts weren't resting on some dude's forehead in the yearbook's Hall of Fame—"
"Dudes, just shut up," Zack broke in, tired of the back and forth bickering that would only result in one or the other getting pissed off and stalking off. "It's probably just some old lady. No big deal."
"Zack is right guys," Joseph agreed, smoothing back his dark hair. "She'll probably be a clone of Mrs. Witherby."
"Zack just doesn't care because he's a math whiz," Anthony pointed out. "Kid can skip on right on to college."
"And he's the mayor's son," Randal added enviously. "So he can get all the hot pussy he wants."
Zack sighed. His friends never let him forget who his father was. Thank God his father was up for re-election come November. Zack seriously hoped he lost when he ran, so the others would stop teasing him about it.
But by then I'll be off at some prestigious college while who knows where these dick heads will wind up.
Before Zack could reply, the bell rang, sending everyone scrambling to their desks.
"My bet is on a fat bitch," Randal said in parting when the group split.
When everyone was in their seats, they continued to chatter excitedly, a feeling of expectation flowing through the room. In boredom, Zack took out his cell and checked his messages. A text message from his swimming teammate Jake was on top.
Nice game last week, Zack.
Zack smiled. He had won a match for his swim team against a rival high school the previous week. Their opponents had always talked a lot of shit about North High so the moment of victory had been very sweet.
He was still riding high on that moment.
The next message caused him to frown.
Been thinking about you. Miss you - Mandy.
He was fresh out of a failed relationship. He wasn't sure why they'd broken up. Zack just hadn't been feeling her lately...and he did not have a clue why. Mandy was pretty, long, golden hair, big, brown eyes and a killer body. But for some unknown reason, she had stopped doing it for him.
The sound of the door opening snatched him out of his reverie. Quickly, he stuffed his phone into his back pocket and waited with the rest of the room to see who their new teacher would be.
You could hear a pin drop with how fast every one quieted. Glancing at the oval clock above the chalk board, Zack saw it was five minutes past the hour. Their new teacher was late.
The sound of heels clicking against the floor sounded as the mystery teacher stepped into the room.
Zack wondered if he looked like some person that had just been shocked on national TV, because his jaw dropped to his desk like a ten-pound brick when he saw the exotic creature for the first time.
Their new teacher was one of the most beautiful black women Zack had ever seen, though he had not seen that many living around white people all his life. She had smooth, caramel skin, long flowing hair that sparkled with a wonderful sheen and big brown eyes punctuated by a sensual mouth.
Her body was very shapely with large breasts, a small waist, wide hips and a large behind. The dress she had on, a classy red number accentuated by a white belt, perfectly played on this fact.
Simply put, she was a knock out.
Carrying a large stack of books in her hands, a worried expression plastered on her face, she told them, "I'm sorry you guys." Her voice sounded loud in the shocked room. Zack noticed that she had on very light makeup; light pink eye-shadow accentuated by a radiant blush on her cheeks. "I ran into a little car trouble, causing me to slip behind schedule."
Zack loved her voice. It reminded him of smooth, chocolate milk on a cozy, rainy day.
"But don't let that make you think I condone tardiness," she told them with a stern gaze before gifting them with a dazzling smile. Her red heels clicking against the floor, she walked over to her new desk and set the stack of books down. "Because I don't"
Then she stood straight, placing her hands on her child-bearing hips, smiling at the class. Zack could not be totally sure, but he thought he could see her fingers trembling. The poor woman was nervous, but she was doing an ok job of concealing it.
"Why is everyone so quiet?" she asked. "You would have thought I walked in here with a gun."
There were several light chuckles around the room. Zack knew it was because everyone was shocked that their new teacher was black. North High did not have a single black faculty member or at least one that Za
ck knew of.
"Well, my name is Keisha Johnson and as you all know...and I am your new math teacher." She moved over to stand in front of the center of the class with Zack's eyes following her lush body like a magnet. "I taught at Hawthorne High on the Southside of Chicago for several years and I must say I have gotten so much joy out of teaching underprivileged children... and I hope to share that same joy with you all." Then she scanned around the room. "Any questions, before I take roll call?"
"Yeah," said Randal from several rows away. "Did you have to dodge bullets on your way to work every day when you taught at Hawthorne?"
Several students erupted with laughter.
Instead of getting angry, Keisha smiled gracefully, shaking her glossy hair about her shoulders. "No I did not...but I do have bullet proof windows though."
At this, most of the students chuckled.
Glancing around the classroom at the smiling faces, Zack could tell that most of the students were already warming up to the woman. She seemed totally laid back and easy going. Mrs. Witherby had been a frigid icebox in comparison.
Smiling, Keisha asked, "Anymore questions?"
A girl near the front of the class raised her hand, and Keisha nodded, giving her permission to speak. "What made you come to North High to teach?"
A shadow passed over the pretty woman's face. But just as soon as it appeared, it melted away and Keisha replied, "I was having a problem with commuting there every day. I live just several blocks from here in the Mayberry suburb. It was a much closer drive and far more convenient, so when a spot opened over here at North High, I took it." She paused. "Anyone else?" Her eyes scanned the room. "Nobody?"
Silence was her only answer.
Clasping her manicured hands together gracefully, she said, "Okay boys and girls, I'm going to take roll call, but I'm going to need a favor from you guys." She glided over to her desk and picked up a clipboard. Then she tucked a strand of glossy hair behind her ear while she gazed at the list of names. "When I call your name, I want you to tell me a short biography about yourself so I can get a feel for your personality." She flashed a disarming smile. "Don't be shy."
She began calling out names alphabetically, listening to each and everyone's back story. When she got to Randal, he was quick to stand up.
"Uh yeah," he said. "I'm a total lady slayer, just ask any girl in here."
"More like a total donut slayer," Anthony said under his breath, causing several students to crack up.
Keisha frowned, her gaze whipping around at Anthony. "What is your name young man?" she asked sternly.
"Anthony Lilly," Anthony replied. "But the fellas call me Tony the Great One."
"Well, the Great One," Keisha said mockingly, "I'm going to ask that you have some respect for when other people are speaking."
His cheeks turning red, Anthony ducked his head. "Yes, M'am."
Keisha smiled at this and continued on.
When she got to Zack, he stood up unsteadily, suddenly anxious.
"Name's Zack Palmer," he said quietly, nervously sticking his hands into his pockets. "I'm on the school's swim team and I just won our school an important game against a rival team last week."
God, I sound so dumb, he thought. I sound like I am boasting my ass off.
"And he's the mayor's son," Randal had to add. "So watch how you grade him."
Several students giggled at the joke, but an expression of interest crossed Keisha's face.
"Are you really the mayor's son?" she asked.
His face burning, Zack nodded. He was going to kill Randal.
"Interesting," she murmured. Then she continued on with roll call.
After she was done, she beamed at the room while clasping the clipboard against her large breasts. "Thank you so much for telling me your stories and allowing me to get to know you all a little better. Now you all know I have six other classrooms full of students that I have to teach, so forgive me if I forget some of your names or mix you up sometimes."
Randal snorted, waving a hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about that. Mrs. Witherby was half-blind and called us by other peoples' names all the time."
Chuckling, Keisha moved over to her new desk and set the clipboard down, grabbing a stack of papers. "As I understand, Mrs. Witherby had a quiz scheduled for today. So I'll be handing these out." She began walking around the room setting down the papers on her students' desk. "If you need any help, don't be afraid to come up to my desk and ask me."
When she passed by Zack, dropping his quiz on his desk, he was taken by the mysterious scent that clung to the older woman's flesh. It was spicy-smelling, but also very sweet.
"Alright class," she said to them all when she was done. Glancing at a watch on her wrist, she said, "You have until the rest of the class period to finish the test." She smiled encouragingly. "Good luck."
It was hard for Zack to concentrate when the timer started. The woman was like a breath of fresh air. And though it galled him to admit it, he was heavily attracted to her.
He was halfway through his test when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.
Glancing up at the teacher's desk, he saw that the sexy woman was enthralled with looking over Mrs. Witherby's notes. Setting his pencil down, he took out his phone.
God damn, I'd totally bang that shit. - Anthony
Before he could put the phone away another text came in.
I'm not into black chicks, but our new teacher is hot. - Joseph
A message quickly popped up over the last one.
Uh yeah, you can find me after school, getting a blumpkin from our new math teacher. - RB
Stifling a chuckle, Zack put his phone back into his pocket. He totally agreed with the guys. Their new teacher was hot as hell, and more surprisingly, she was black.
Concentrate man.
His mind filled with lustful images of his new math teacher, Zack struggled for the rest of the period to finish his test.
Chapter 6
There was a knock on Davonte's door.
Quickly closing the porn site that was open on his laptop screen, Davonte straightened his dress shirt and called, "Come in."
Cindy James, his supervisor's secretary walked into the enclosed office, her cloying perfume immediately permeating the air.
Oh lord, Davonte groaned inwardly at the sight of the blonde, white woman. What the bitch want this time?
"Hello Davonte," Cindy greeted with a smile. She was dressed in her usual today, a high fashion dress with heels. Her long blonde hair flowed down to the center of her back in waves.
"Hello, Miss James," Davonte replied respectfully, feeling uneasiness touch his spine. Though the woman had a smile on her face, her whole body language suggested that she was about to tell Davonte something he would not like.
"How are you doing?"
Yep. I ain't gone like this shit. The boss always be sending this bitch to tell me the bad news, instead of telling me himself. Davonte shook his head. Punk ass bitch.
Trying his best to be graceful about it all, Davonte said, "I'm good."
Stepping forward, Cindy placed a hand on his wood desk, balancing herself. "You aren't going to like what I am about to say Davonte," Cindy told him.
I knew it.
"Sales are down with the company. Profits are falling. In order to combat this, Biotech has to scale back, cut down on costs." Cindy let out a counterfeit sigh. "Unfortunately, this means that some of our employees will feel the sting of our losses."
Bitch, get the fuck up out my face with that shit.
It was hard for Davonte to hold back what he really wanted to say. Of course he would be the one to be told that he was about to be out of a job, simply because he was one of the few black men working for the high-tech company.
Trying to keep his voice level, Davonte asked, "What I don't understand is, is how does it go from that I am getting a raise, to that I'm getting fired?"
He had been told over two weeks ago by Cindy that there had been
an error with his performance sheet and he had in fact been performing just below his usual level.
In other words, he had been told in a nice way that he was was not getting a raise.
Instead of telling Keisha about it, he continued to act as if it was still going to go down, because he had made such a big deal about it when he first found out that he would be getting one. Then Keisha's ass had forced him to end the front by telling him she had quit her job.
It was just Davonte's luck.
"You're not getting fired Davonte," Cindy assured him.
Confusion washed over Davonte's face. "I ain't? I mean, I'm not?"
Shaking her head, Cindy replied, "No. Your hours are being cut, that's all." She gave him a look of pity. "Don't be sad, it's only temporary."
Tell that to my damn bills I got piled up at home.
While he was relieved he would be retaining some semblance of a job, their mounting debt would not survive a cut in income.
It was a struggle trying to live the good life with kids, living in a nice area with a high as hell mortgage, nice cars, and hot, young babysitters. It was a good thing Keisha had found a job quick.
"How long is this shit going to last?" Davonte might really wound up fired if he kept making slip ups.
The woman stood straight up, fixing a direct look on his face, "Maybe only a month or two."
A month or two? he thought in despair. God damn.
The truth of the matter was; it would probably be much longer than that.
"Look on the bright side Davonte," she told him. "There is a silver lining in all of this."
Yeah right, hoe.
"What's that?" Davonte asked, still trying to act unfazed.
Tossing a strand of long hair over her shoulder, Cindy said, "You will get to spend more time with your children or work on whatever it is that you've been neglecting." She smiled, making him want to punch her in the face. "You also get to choose when to work your lighter work schedule. Come on in any day you like."
Davonte held back a derisive snort. That ain't no damn silver lining. A silver lining is getting my dick sucked along with a damn raise.
Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE) Page 4
