Dirty: Loving Him Against All Odds

by Christine Gray

  Refocusing, he began to wash up.

  “New plan,” he said firmly.

  He wasn’t going after her for payback. No, Brayden was determined to own her, brand her, enslave her, until she was his, now and forever.

  Chapter Two

  Trish sighed as she looked over at the clock. She had left in more than enough time to make it over to the job site, but she was still going to be late. She hated being late. This damn Georgia traffic was something she hadn't missed. She had no doubt that Brayden was going to call her later to complain about having his foreman waiting for her, and how it was something he didn't like. Everyone knew that time was money, and the fact that he was doing this job as a favor for her made her being late even worse.

  She smirked as she turned off the interstate, thinking about the kind offer he made to reconstruct the house she was tricked into buying. He made it very clear that he wasn't doing the job out of the kindness of his heart, but he was going to use it as his way to get into her pants. He wanted her, and he was going to use every opportunity to get what he wanted. The fact that he was so upfront about what he wanted was very refreshing, and if she was honest, he was one tempting piece of ass. He seemed to have the total package. If only that package was clothed in a skin of the darkest brown, it would be fine with her.

  She heard that nagging voice in the back of her head starting up once again while she checked the GPS that was mounted to the dashboard of her car. What's the big deal that he's white? Hell, there are websites dedicated to black women with white males. The white race has been mixing with the Afro race for years, so what's the big deal? She had both family and friends that had been dating across the color line for years. Even her own kids brought up the conversation of liking people that were of different races. Technically, it was all the same. Hell, she should look at it as a learning and cultural experience; she considered all of this as she pulled up in front of the large two-story home.

  Trish glanced over at the white Dodge Charger with silver tinted windows parked in front of the two-car garage. The trunk was up, and she eyed all the different tools that were scattered throughout the open space. There was no doubt that this was the home. She made a slow turn and looked at all of the same cookie cutter homes that lined the street. She was surprised that her home was the only one that had a slight but noticeable difference that made the place stand out. It had beautiful stone work all along the front entrance that gave it a Spanish appeal. She wondered briefly how the owner was able to get away with that change to the house plan. Most communities like this one didn't allow the homeowners too much freedom when it came to stuff like that.

  “Are you going to waste more of my time standing there?”

  Trish swung around to find Brayden standing behind her. She couldn't control her eyes from scanning him. He was so handsome in a pair of loose-fitting cargo shorts, and a graphic printed T-shirt that fit tight across his muscular chest and forearms.

  “Where did you come from?”

  He blinked at her strange question.

  “I came from my car. You walked right past me.”

  She glanced over at the Dodge and pointed.

  “That’s your car? I thought I was meeting one of your workers out here.”

  “Oh, so you have a problem with working directly with me?” he teased as he produced his work belt and strapped it on.

  “No, I just thought you would be busy with your other projects, that's all,” she tried to explain quickly.

  Shit, even with the tool belt, he looks sexy as hell, she realized, which only served to annoy her even more.

  For the first time, she noticed his strong, callused hands. There was something about a hard working man's hands that always turned her on. Maybe it was the roughness of it against her smooth skin that did it for her. She could never stand a man with soft, wet hands, or a man with a weak handshake.

  “How else am I going to wear you down if I don't use every opportunity to be with you? Come on, open the door so we can see for ourselves how much payment you're going to have to give me.”

  “Payment?” Trish repeated over her shoulder as she unlocked the door.

  “Yes, payment,” he responded as he smacked her on her ass and pushed her through the front door.

  All of their joking stopped when they walked through the front door. Brayden stole a quick glimpse at Trish and saw her just standing there, frozen with big eyes and a wide-open mouth. He had seen the photos of the place she had printed out that day at the gym, but even those pictures were an understatement of what they were actually seeing. His heart dropped as the magnitude of the damage to the home hit him. He had no doubt that she been set up, and had been tricked into buying this house. It was a money pit that was unloaded in her unexpected lap, and he knew that she didn't have the cash to replace and reconstruct this place in a way that she would be able to sell it. It didn't take a whiz to know what that would mean for her, and for her young business that she was building. He broke the silence by walking over and testing the large stair rail while he thought. He hid the smile that wanted to spread across his full lips as something came to his mind. He would never insult her by forcing her into his bed. Frankly, he really did want that, but with his idea, it would at least make the odds in his favor of actually winning her.

  “I think it's safe to go upstairs and see the damage up there,” he offered.

  “Why? There's no need. There is no freakin' way I can flip this damn house. Look at it…let’s count. There’s one, two…THREE leaks in the roof, holes in the wall, cracked tiles, and that's just what's in the entryway. Can you imagine what other threats this house holds for me?”

  “So, you have enough funds to pay off the loan when it comes due?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “No, not really. I refuse to call him for a loan,” she mumbled.

  Damn right, you won't, he thought. He knew who she was referring to.

  “How much do you have for this project?” he asked seriously as he pulled a writing pad from his tool belt.

  Trish took a deep breath to steady her voice before she spoke.

  “I can do sixty thousand. Maybe more if I can sell some of my other properties.”

  “No, don't sink all of your revenue into this job. You'll be fucked again if it sits too long on the market. Okay, so that's how much, huh,” he finished as he took off walking on the ground floor. It was a shame that the house had gotten to this state. With his eye for construction, he could see it at its better state. It was a lovely place, but now it had been vandalized, stripped of its wiring and copper pipes, windows had been broken, what was left of the kitchen was a mess, and he picked up quickly that someone had been living in the place at one time, or maybe even now.

  “Do you know if anyone has done a walk-through to ensure no squatters had taken up in the place?”

  Trish's eyes got wider at his question. He watched as she reached into her purse and pulled out a Taser, handing it over to him. She then reached back in to pull out a gun. He was able to get over the fact that she was packing heat quickly, but the fact that she gave him the stun gun and kept the actual gun didn't sit well with him. His eyes widened in shock.

  “Why do I have this thing and you have that?” he asked as he tested the weight of the device in his hand. He shook his head at her bright smile and gestured for her to lead the way. “Hell, you got the gun, so you can go first,” he laughed at her reluctance to move.

  They were both relieved to see that whoever had been staying there had cleared out, and the top level wasn't as bad as they had thought.

  Taking out his pad, he began to take notes while she pointed out issues that he was clearly aware of. It took all his willpower not to interject in her speech. Once again, the things she said had him longing to meet the people she had been dealing with on her projects. Her estimations and comments were crazy. Every time he nodded his head and put another item on the list, she was helping him with his plan, but the fact that othe
r people had been using her ignorance to line their pockets didn’t sit well with him. He had always run an honest business when it came to his customers. He never overcharged, or suggested things that would drive up his price. He had fired employees that had done shit like that. Before long, he had compiled three pages of notes; then both of them went over the list, this time numbering the items based on need and want.

  “Who the hell told you about this place?” he asked, a bit frustrated.

  “It was a realtor friend, actually. They made the place sound like a steal. Shit, I know I should've looked the place over first, but they said that it was a short sale, and I had to move quickly,” she answered with a shrug.

  Brayden had been so focused on the work that he hadn't even noticed that she was sweating until now. The white tank top she was wearing was wet with just the right amount of moisture to make the thin material turn sheer against her brown skin. His eyes gazed upon the wetness that had gathered in the valley of her full breasts and ran down into her shirt. He decided there was no better time than that moment to present his offer. He hated the fact that he was getting ready to step into the role of those same assholes he hated in the business by painting a worse picture than what it really was. The house was shit, yes, but he knew how to get the job done for a fraction of the price without doing many of the things that the inspector had listed.

  “I'm not going to fake it with you, Trish. This house is going to crush the little business you've created for yourself. There's way too much work that needs to be done for the amount of cash you have.”

  She nodded her agreement. She had accepted that fact the second they both had walked across the threshold into the decaying abyss of a home; but she knew that she had to make this work. She just had to!

  “For some reason, I feel you have a solution coming. So, what are you thinking?” she stated with so much hope that it was tangible.

  He eyed her as she chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

  “Yes, I have something in mind,” he started slowly.

  Trish caught the sly tone in his voice and rolled her eyes.

  Surely, this wasn't the angle he was coming from? Sex in exchange for his handyman services. But would it be that bad of an exchange?

  She considered this as she looked him over. The lack of air in the place had caused him to sweat, but nothing like how he usually did at the gym. Unlike then, his hair wasn't drenched. Instead, his soft, dark hair was free-flowing. She turned and walked back through the house and out the door to the fresh air. Even though the Georgia weather was hot, it was much better than being in that stuffy house, and being so close to Brayden.

  “I'm not sleeping with you for your help,” she said in a voice that she hoped was believable, but she knew that if that's what he was offering, she just might take it. She knew that sometimes, all a person needed was an excuse to fall from grace.

  “Oh please, Trish. Where would be the fun in that?”

  Oh no, sweetheart, when you come to me, it'll be of your own free well, he thought to himself before he spoke to her.

  “I'm not going to cheapen you like that, Trish. I like you, and I respect you. I made it very clear that I want you, but I want you to want me.”

  She examined him with her gaze. “So what is this offer then?”

  “All I ask for is time. Time to woo you. Time for you to get to know me, and for you to be honest about how you feel about me. None of those mind games that women play.”

  He watched as the surprise of his offer washed over her. He had no doubt that she had been expecting something different from a man of his taste, but he was confident in his abilities to make her fall for him. He didn't need to stack the deck too high in his favor. All he needed was for her to let down her wall and be open to him.

  “Time...all of this work in exchange for time?” she repeated, flabbergasted. She cautioned herself not to fall for his offer too quickly.

  There has to more to this, she thought.

  “Yes, and an open mind, and your sixty thousand,” he added.

  He let out a thunderous laugh at her look of dismay. “Damn, woman, I have to have something for my troubles just in case I fail.”

  “So, what do you mean by time?” she questioned.

  “Okay,” he started with a clap.

  He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a contract, and held it out to her.

  It took her a few seconds to close her mouth before she was able to speak.

  “I see you came prepared,” she mumbled dryly as she looked over the very legal-looking document.

  “This job would take about two months. During that time, I want to be able to spend the nights with you.” Brayden held up his hand to stop the stream of words that began to fly from her mouth. “I told you, I'm not forcing you to sleep with me. I'm not going to do anything that would cause your kids to disrespect you, Trish. What I'm offering is nightly dinners, or an opportunity to spend the evenings with you and your kids. We'll see each other on a daily basis concerning the house, you go to the gym twice a week, and we'll have our bi-weekly community meetings, so I know that's all the time I'll need,” he explained slowly.

  It took her a while to process what he was saying.

  Was he for real?

  She had heard that white guys were different in their approach, but this was unbelievable.

  “That's it,” he stressed, “and your willingness not to be a tight ass bitch toward me too. So, do we have a deal? Starting tonight, you, me, and the kids for dinner. We can go out to a restaurant before I start cooking for you at home.” He noticed her expression of disbelief. “What's so hard to believe? That I cook, or that I don't want to waste any time getting under your skin?”

  Trish's body had no trouble picking up on the change in his tone. His deep Barry White voice was sexy all by itself, but when he added the sexy smooth-as-honey tone to it, it made her pulse pick up its tempo. He closed the space that was between them, seized her by the hips, and pulled her into his embrace. It was the first time he held her that close. Her hands itched to touch his chest to test the muscles that she knew were hard under his shirt.

  “The fact that you actually cook and you drive that,” she replied in a voice she prayed hid the effect that he was having on her.

  “My car? Why does the fact that I drive a Charger baffle you so much?”

  His full lips were begging her to kiss them as he towered over her.

  “Brayden, you're too damn cocky, so full of yourself.”

  “Oh, don't get me wrong. I have an ego, make no mistake about it, but the difference is I know how, when, and where to let it show. Everybody keeps a little, and shows a little when they're trying to catch a person's eye; you know that, Trish. I’m hoping I don't have to do that with you. I'm hoping you're mature enough to skip all that first few weeks of bullshit,” he responded as he eyed her closely.

  He had already taken the time to reach out to a few of his friends that were in contact with Trish, and many of their old classmates. He was able to piece together many of the events of her past thirteen years. He knew what he was getting himself into, and he was hoping that he would be the one to change her life, and in turn get the woman that never gave him the time of day before.

  “So, what is the end game?” she smirked.

  “I want a wife.”

  He felt her body stiffen from the shock of his admission. He was sure she had been expecting him to say something along the lines of wanting a girlfriend. She worked her mouth to say the word wife, but nothing came out.

  “Yes, a wife,” he repeated for her as he nodded his head. “We both have children,” he pointed out. “I would never insert myself into your life or put you into mine if I didn’t know what I wanted. I want a family.”

  “But, how are you going to say—”

  “All you have to do is be open to all that I have to offer you, and everything else will fall into place,” he promised.

  “I think you’re taking this
a bit too fast. I…I haven’t even been single for that long, and there’s the issue of me being black and you’re—”

  He lowered his mouth to hers, stopping her protest with a kiss. His lips were demanding, forcing her to give way to his seeking tongue. She knew she would never forget the way her body responded to him. It was instant. It was surprising. It was mind-blowing. The sound of her moan was strange, even to her ears, as he caressed the inside of her mouth. He broke away to stare into her wide, light brown eyes.

  A wide, seductive smile formed on his moist lips.

  “There is no fuckin’ issue with color, Trish, so you can lay that excuse down. I see your body really doesn’t care about the color of my skin, and as you can feel, mine finds your body to be fine as hell,” he whispered while he pulled her closer to ensure she felt his stiff cock pressing against her stomach.

  He released her and took a step back.

  Trish looked at the hand he held out, ready for her to take and shake to seal the deal. She stared at his long, strong tanned fingers and wondered how they would feel when she touched them. She reached out her hand and felt his callused palm as he gave her hand a firm shake. On contact, the butterflies in her stomach began to leap and dance. He reached into his back pocket, and retrieved a pen for her to sign.

  Sometimes, all you need is an excuse, she repeated to herself as she scribbled her name on the dotted line.

  **

  Hours later, she debated following her kids into the gym. It wouldn't have been the first time that she had decided to stay outside and watch a movie on her cell phone, but this time it would be for a different reason. It would be because she was trying to avoid him, and that wasn't part of the agreement. She felt herself walk into the large building. She saw her feet moving, carrying her across the concrete flooring, but her mind was miles away. That kiss he had planted on her, her first experience of being in his embrace, and the feel of his long, thick cock was all that she had been thinking about after they had gone their separate ways.