The Right Note (BWWM Interracial Romance)

by DaCosta, Naima

  Laying in bed later she shifted around restlessly. It seemed folly to even try to sleep when she was this excited but the last thing she wanted when she met Jack Davis tomorrow was to be too tired to give her best. She lay there thinking of what to do to make herself sleepy. she had already tried reading and she even used google to look up the most boring video she could find. She had made it 45 minutes into a lecture about 17th century trade agreements between the ottoman empire and various countries in central Europe before realizing it was no use. She supposed she could try masturbating. surprised she hadn't thought of it before, She reached into her nightstand for her little purple vibrator before realizing sadly upon trying to turn it on that the batteries were dead and she'd forgotten to buy new ones. She sighed and resolved to do it the old fashioned way She slid her fingers down, brushing past her trim, soft little bush as positioned her hand on her pelvic bone. Now the tips of her fingers brushed her narrow lips, which were pursed together, only slightly moistened and not very sensitive yet. She touched her clit experimentally...it tickled slightly, but sensation in her nerve endings was dull. She was having difficulty feeling her body properly. Hayley's thoughts had been so much on her big day tomorrow, sex seemed so irrelevant.

  Hayley lay there dutifully rubbing her clit and pinching one of her nipples with her free hand until her wrist grew tired. She switched hands and continued she ran through her many wicked fantasies about her college composition teacher:

  Him sneaking up on her when he she had stayed late to practice, fucking her in the back of the classroom against the piano being forced to suck his cock under his desk while he lectured the class about 16th century motets..

  Him pounding her ass with abandon in the bedroom of his house with his wife due home from work any minute these normally always did the trick, but tonight she was having trouble focusing on any of them. All she could think about was her meeting tomorrow with Jack...

  Sweaty and still not properly turned on, Hayley took out her phone and brought up the old photo of her old college professor.

  “This is all your fault" she thought with annoyance. She felt a tingle. His face smiling at her seemed to loom large in front of her eyes she remembered her brief, earlier thrill at the thought of an affair with him. the tingle became something more...her breath started coming heavy and her hand went back to work She knew it was wrong but she couldn't help it... all she could think about was being ravaged by the strange man who seemed so shadowy and cold... her nipples were hard and pointed, almost swollen... she found that touching them gently sent waves of excitement down to her now dripping pussy.

  She thought of Jacks fingers stroking her just so...then of sucking his dick whilst kneeling down under the piano where he wrote his songs..she came instantly. she was surprised because she hadn't felt it coming until a moment before it happened..she wasn't too sensitive so she continued to stroke her self, now thinking about his jack's hard pink manhood..blue veins sticking out...buried in her tight dark pussy...her squeezing him until his balls ached while he slammed into her she rubbed harder, her rhythm frenzied, she groaned and whispered aloud "fuck me Jack Davis...Fuck me, harder... come in me"

  Hayley imagined she could feel him exploding inside of her and she shuddered ...coming...once and then again...and again. Even after telling herself it was no different than it had been fantasizing about her teacher in college..she still felt like she had betrayed herself somehow. She also felt sleepy, finally. looking at the photo of him one more time, she closed her eyes and drifted off at last.

  Hayley Parker had been lost in her reminiscences of the last week, so surreal and unbelievable. Her surroundings jolted her back to reality. She had reached a cul-de-sac and reading the building numbers, she realized, this must be the place. it sat on one side of a large, mostly empty lot surrounded by a fenced off junkyard. barely visible in the The back of the lot was a high, panelled fence with a sliding gate which was where he probably kept his vehicle. It was an large and unimpressive structure.

  A flat topped, painted concrete warehouse, it's single structure was broken up into two units. The right half had boarded up windows and a locked gate in front guarding it's disused door. the unit was covered with peeling red paint and looked derelict. The left half looked relatively well maintained, if somewhat severe. It was painted dark Grey she saw a single unmarked buzzer with a speaker next to as she approached it's clean glass door. She could see another, heavier door only a few feet beyond it. That was as much as she could make out. She looked at her old fashioned wrist watch, the hands read five-fifty nine. She waited for the second hand to finish it's journey before pressing the buzzer at exactly 6pm. Her heart was beating too fast, her mouth felt dry and hands were clammy. In other words, she was nervous as hell. She heard no noise coming from inside from the buzzer so she pressed it again. She was shivering slightly but she didn't want to knock having been told specifically to ring the buzzer. Not wanting to be an annoyance. she walked around the front entrance feeling the chilly air for a minute or two before trying again. this time the speaker came alive.

  A strong, polite voice spoke, businesslike .

  "Yes?" Hayley felt suddenly calm, rising to the occasion she answered in a steady voice.

  "It's Hayley Parker. Michael's friend, I'm a songwriter. Michael made an appointment for me to meet you."

  "Oh he did, did he? He paused to check his schedule "Yes I see, I remember now- you're late.

  "Hayley said diplomatically, "I'm sorry, this place was a bit hard to find"

  He smiled to himself and said with satisfaction.

  "Yes it is, Isn't it? you'd better Come in from the cold, then."

  There was a loud click as the lock opened. She opened the door and closed it behind her to stand in the narrow foyer. A florescent light flickered above, A heater blasted below. There was nothing to look at but grey walls as she heard his faint footsteps approaching the heavy looking inner door to open it.

  It opened as she stood there calmly, ready to face him. He was older, of course, lines around his dark circled eyes. There were uneven patches of gray in his dark medium length hair. Grown out slightly, Still thick and glossy, the front fell down only an inch or so above his eyes, throwing a slight shadow over the top of his face. The main difference Hayley saw immediately between this man's face and the one in the photo was his sardonic demeanor. The hazel eyes were darkened from too much introspection, but a kind of dancing energy peeked out in quiet amusement making the seriousness of his set jaw seem like it was poking fun at itself. He was cool but a steady, potent energy flowed out of his competent, deliberate movements. He smiled hello easily and led her in without shaking her hand or making any formal introductions. She followed, wound up inside, with her own quiet intensity coiled like a spring waiting to be released.

  In the dim, moody light her eyes glanced around to see a spare oblong space. in the near corner was a fridge next to sink set in a small counter with a coffee machine drip-dropping away on it. The floors were brushed concrete, matching the ubiquitous gray paint all around. the lowish ceiling had industrial panelling, light came mostly an old track lighting system, which illuminated the room unenthusiastically. halfway across the long narrow room there sat an old black leather couch against one wall, which faced a battered but obviously loved and well maintained upright piano on the other. A little drafting table next to that, littered with score paper and half finished lyrics, was angled so that one could easily slide over to write on it without moving off of the Piano bench.

  On a side table next to the couch were several bottles of liquor and a half empty carton of cigarettes. Several old ashtrays, the standing kind that looked like they came from an old hotel or movie theatre were scattered around the room and looked as full as one would expect, given the stale, acrid smell that pervaded the room. A little farther away a plain wooden chair sat near a wall where several guitars hung on brackets next to an old humidifier.

  The far wall had gigantic speakers moun
ted high up on them. they were angled slightly facing downward at large modular desk space desk which had a a couple of large flat-screens as it's main fixture. several keyboards and modules stacked were opposite it. a large rack mounted set of amplifiers with a compact mixing desk atop was set at a height for for easy access while working. The worn out, comfortable looking desk chair sat in the between on wheels, looking like it was anxiously waiting for it's master to return to his rightful spot on it. the scene gave the impression of a potent efficiency and of a disregard for any unnecessary comfort.

  The only softness in the room came from an old easy chair tucked in the far corner away from the hi tech setup. Bathed in a soft glow from an elegant, Edwardian reading lamp. it was surrounded by a pair of matching bookshelves full to the brim with old volumes and, several of which were stacked on little reading table in front of the chair. He motioned her to the couch saying "sit down, sit down" while he went to the cupboard of his kitchenette "coffee?" he asked her, already filling his own mug full to the brim with strong black liquid. "yes, thank you- black is fine" she said gratefully, looking forward to feeling the warmth of a steaming cup in her cool hands. He handed her the fresh cup he had just poured and took a sip from his own while he walked a few paces back and forth absent-mindedly before turning to her to study her for the first time.

  Hayley felt like he was looking straight through him. She kept her herself composed, smiling graciously, refusing to blush or fidget nervously while in a leisurely manner, he looked her over.

  "Michael was right- you are an rare specimen" She laughed without embarrassment at his strange remark.

  "Well, I don't know what you mean.. I'm really just focused on my work most of the time..so I don't really think much about how people see me I assume you don't know many young black female songwriters?" He smiled, amused, as if she had missed the point entirely though he politely acknowledged her remark "No, I don't know any young songwriters at all, as a matter of fact"

  He added, somewhat grandly, "No doubt you know me by reputation- which is mostly accurate I'm as reclusive and as disinterested in what goes on out there as they all say, probably more so"

  He had a relaxed, yet strangely focused way of talking, as if he formed his words precisely before letting his voice release them in a smooth, carefree cadence, with something like cool jazz. "I'm assuming that, knowing this, you still think there's something to be gained by seeking me out.. he smiled ironically " - don't be offended if I say right now that no matter how little your presence may annoy me, meeting new people, especially other people in the business, is not something I relish."

  Jack paused to walk over to the side table and pour a measure of bourbon into his coffee. He added, " Let's save some time, Ms. Hayley Parker.. "

  Hayley irrationally felt proud hearing his respectful tone in speaking her name, despite her awareness of the irony inherent in it.

  "You can correct my mistakes afterwards. You're a struggling songwriter, It's been your passion for your whole life. You don't have much money or any connections but you work hard every day to hone your skills in preparation for the break that you so richly deserve..."Jack continued with good humor.

  He rambled through his little speech like he was reciting a tired old cliche devoid of any meaning or relevance.

  "Everyone you've ever known thinks you're the most gifted person they've ever met and they constantly tell you how much they believe in you and wish for your success, though they're truly sorry they can't do anything to help you achieve it."

  Before Hayley could muster up the will to respond, he added almost tiredly "You're a sincere person. You follow your heart but you don't want to hurt people on the way. You're bright and caring and you understand people's motivations, but you don't use that against them. Only your work makes you truly happy, your only real friends are the people who understand that deep down, that's all that really matters."

  Hayley thought she should be mad by his arrogant summary of her, but he stated it with with no ill will. She thought she sensed a barely percept able sympathy behind his disinterested demeanor, but perhaps it was only wishful thinking. Her ego remained secure, bolstered by his awareness of her, feeling free from a need to explain herself.

  "Yes that's me in a nutshell. Micheal was right, you are an astute old tomcat" her tone dared to mock him slightly, but Jack laughed, genuinely amused. Despite his earlier words his manner warmed up a bit. He allowed his seldom exercised charm to animate his gestures.

  "I don't like young people in general but I don't mind saying your a refreshing change so you can relax- you can do or say whatever you want without fear that I'm going to throw you out"

  Hayley didn't know what to say to that.

  "So tell me, What exactly do you want?" Jack sat patiently face folded in a loose, easy smile. She smiled in acknowledgement of his compliment and nodded thoughtfully for a second before saying clearly and with conviction the words she had rehearsed in her head all week.

  "Your honest opinion of my work and any advice you may have about my career, I don't expect anything else. You're the only person I've ever had a chance to meet whose success I aspire to." Hayley paused and looked around before adding, "It feels good to be in here. It's not what I expected at all. It feels like a factory. It makes me feel like I need to get back to work, I hope to have a place like this someday."

  Jack smiled, responding to the last part first, "That's the idea. I don't like distractions, I'm glad you appreciate the importance of that." He frowned slightly as he tried to think how to explain his position.

  "I believe you. I can see you're sincere- maybe too sincere. I'm sure you're very good. I also think that deep down you hope this meeting will lead to something else. I'd rather disappoint you now than later: Forget about it."

  Hayley continued sitting calmly but internally she braced herself for the rest of his words.

  "Enjoy your time, have a drink, look around , soak it up. Talk about your favorite music but for heaven's sake don't pin any of hopes for success on me and don't ask me to coach you about the business. It's not a subject I really have anything to say about."

  Jack smiled and sat down across from her pouring another splash of booze into his glass. He angled the bottle toward her cup.. she reached out to accept a generous serving. Hayley took a sip from her cooling mug and feeling the warmth from the liquor roll slowly down her throat.

  "I meant what I said. I just came for your opinion and your honest advice"

  He spoke lightly, trying to brush this off, "My opinion doesn't matter- if my sterling example inspires you to loftier heights- good!" his irony was cool, without rancor.

  "Since you've never met one of your heroes before, I might as well tell you, It's generally a pretty disappointing experience" he punctuated his remark by lifting his glass with a self mocking gesture, sipping it's contents with satisfaction.

  Hayley laughed, she was charmed. She liked him. He was so obviously full of bitterness and emotionally detached but his own amused awareness and acceptance of these facts made him seem very real and solid, Like a rock she could lean her own uncertainties on.

  "I'm enjoying myself so far. I feel at home here" she bit her lip, realizing that this was a pretty presumptuous thing to say, but it had just slipped out.

  Jack looked at her penetratingly "I don't think you would feel that if you spent much time here-" he lightened up, "Fortunately I don't have much time to give, so just enjoy the feeling while it lasts."

  Hayley didn't let it faze her. She sensed that he was being gentle with her, by his standards. She felt pleased, even grateful. She decided it was time to make her stand, for what it was. Clearly he was content to just sit there and banter with her until he decided it was time to go back to work and he sent her away. She couldn't surrender so easily. She felt like he secretly expected more of her even though he behaved indifferently.

  "Do you mind if I play?" she asked, pointing to the piano behind him.

  "By a
ll means!" He made a great show of turning his chair around to an angle where he could watch her while she played- as if he were a real audience and she a respected artist. She began to play. The piano started the song alone. It had a clever, catchy little intro that danced quickly, double time. Then it slowed to a medium tempo ballad feel with a slight gospel flavor as her voice rose wordlessly over the simple, clean changes. After 4 bars she began to sing the song itself letting the nuance of the words come through clearly, through good diction and an unrushed delivery. Her voice was strong and smooth and she sold the simple sentiment of hope and love with a flowing rhyme scheme and a melody that rose and fell elegantly in harmony with the emotion of the words themselves.

  She finished the song with a simple statement of the melody and chords, letting the final notes fade out before stopping and taking a drink, waiting nervously, Slightly embarrassed, not wanting to show how emotions were stirred up by her own performance.

  "Bravo!" Jack said loudly.

  Hayley shoulders relaxed in relief, she turned and smiled, a little shyly . " very, very well written song... solid, professional presentation." She giggled at his loud insincere tone, which seemed to be a parody of a t.v. presenter or a disc jockey he reflected and added in a normal voice "Not an instant hit, by any means but good adult contemporary fare, possibly suitable for christian radio- needs to be featured in a really mushy movie."

  Hayley blushed, she knew it was sappy and a bit corny.. but she was writing for the market, women 25-55.

  Jack continued unabated. "Unfortunately there's probably any number of songs as good in the lobby garbage cans of any major label record company." Hayley's face fell and she nodded sadly, "I suppose that might be true."

  Jack went on grimly, "Do you know that song 'The Rose'?" Hayley responded quickly, "of course, it's one of my favorite songs."