by Tasha Blue
Fortunately for her, it had never quite turned around to bite her in the ass like it had just done to Jerome. Fucking a drug dealer and partaking in the sales were two different things.
Flipping mindlessly through a magazine as they rode in the limo the last few miles to the grand Livingston Estate, Amber caught the edge of the page perfectly. Wincing from the paper cut, she sucked on it, and then pinched to see if the blood made it to the surface. Momentarily disappointed that it hadn’t, she looked over at Charles who sat next to her.
He was scanning his phone apps to keep himself updated with life back home. Not once had he gotten off of it which made her curious as to what exactly was going on. In a way it honestly wasn’t her business either.
“Babe,” she complained, annoyed that the electronic device was taking all his attention.
“What?” He grunted, looking up.
He was blunt and slightly aggravated to be interrupted or so she gathered from his tone.
Deciding not to tread on the subject, she shrugged. “Nothing.” Instead she pulled out the little mirror from her pink hand bag and fixed the loose ends of her hair. She had never felt so in place, and at the same time, so awkward and out of place.
Lately he had been very distant. Looking over, she couldn’t help but notice his serious mood. He was unusually off.
As the limo arrived at their destination, the driver opened the large gate. It was magnificent, covered in vines and flowers. A large driveway that curved around a fountain came into view, leading up towards a set of grand steps. It was amazing what money could do for a home. In this case, it was a series of exquisite bungalows oozing with the touch of money.
Pulling up to the entrance of the bungalow, Amber stepped out, followed by a distracted Charles. He put the phone back in his pocket and straightened out his shirt.
She stood uncomfortably taking the huge scene in. Everything was beyond beautiful here. It was breathtaking.
Her feet were on crystal sands overlooking blue clear waters. She could see it some distance away from the two story luxurious bungalow that extended out into the shallows.
Palm trees adorned everything, giving the tropical private island adequate shade from the hot beating sun.
Excitement riveted through her as she realized the potential of this place. “Babe,” she nudged Charles as he put an arm around her. “I want to get married here,” she beamed. It seemed the makings of a dream, causing her to inadvertently spiral into the little girl she was inside.
He laughed a little dryly. “It is definitely a nice place,” he agreed.
“Probably too much money,” she thought aloud, her head working the number of expenses.
Hugging her softly, he brushed his fingers through her hair. “My love, money is never going to be a problem. I want to give you everything your heart desires.” Kissing her softly, he grabbed her hand and began to lead her towards the steps.
Willingly letting him take control, she followed him to the front double doors.
“This will be our place to stay,” he said while producing the key. “My parents are staying in the one across the way,” he motioned to the winding wooden ramp leading to several similar looking places. They were planted much further out on the water.
This was definitely a fancy vacation spot, private and perfect. But nothing prepared her for the breathtaking view of the place.
Walking inside the door, the shiny wood floors gave way to glass viewing areas. They came in immediate contact with the ocean floor. Tropical fish were swarming in brilliant rainbows below.
To the right was the kitchen, marble countertops of cream mingled with wooden pantries. The couch across from the counter had roll style pillows striped with navy blue. They made nice accents with the peach upholstery.
Within the wall was a small fireplace, meant mainly for decor. It wasn’t a huge addition to the room, but it did add some flare.
As Amber gasped, she breathed in the sweet scent of tropical fruits. It enveloped her senses until she could barely believe where she was.
Charles closed the door behind them. “I want you to forget everything.” He walked over and set their bags down on the elegant dining table at the far end of the room. It was next to sliding glass doors that led onto a large patio.
“What do you mean?” she questioned, furrowing her brow. Could he know? No, there was no way.
“I want you to forget about life and just enjoy this next week we have together.”
It wasn’t an outrageous request. However, she had a hard time believing he would do the same. “What about you?” she prodded, gesturing to the phone that he now held in his hands. “Why can’t you forget about work for a week and enjoy the time with me?”
He stared at her mouth for a second, entranced by its voluptuousness. But then his eyes wandered back to their normal place, taking in her concerned face. “I will try but it is my work that allows us to be here at this moment,” he reminded her. “I’m not as free as you are and if I’m called away I will be back shortly.” He tried to assure her that he was doing his best.
She sarcastically chuckled inside. “I understand,” she put on a fake smile to hide the disappointment.
“Shower and relax. Dinner will be at eight with my parents. I have some things to take care of with them so I will be back in a few hours. I have a closet of clothes set out for you so pick something you like.” He was gone. He walked right out the door, taking his phone with him.
Silence wrapped over everything as she stood in the middle of the room. Curiosity to explore tugged at her until she could resist it no more. She didn’t exactly like the fact that he was leaving her but she understood that he needed to take care of things. He was methodical and calculating. There would be no breaking him of that.
Her suitcases had already been set in the bedroom to the left. The bed was a large King canopy with white sheer material. Peach pillows that matched the couches were arrayed in orderly fashion. A night stand beside the bed accompanied a bureau and a vanity with a mirror.
Looking down at the night stand, she noticed Charles had things set in order to how he liked. His watch, a comb, and a pair of mints sat in their normal spots. He was a little obsessive compulsive but that didn’t bother her. It was the military habits ground deep into him that made his lifestyle such a particular manner.
Pushing aside the curtain around the bed, she saw a pink gift bag waiting for her. Around it were scattered yellow rose petals, drawing a smile to her face. There was no doubt about who it was from.
She dug into it, pulling aside the tissue paper. Moments later she pulled out a sexy bikini bathing suit the color of coral, and scattered with sequins. It was exquisite and undoubtedly expensive. Something she definitely would never have bought for herself.
Walking to the standing mirror in her room, she quickly stripped down, fondling the soft material tenderly. She scrutinized her body for a moment, looking at the extra weight she carried on her thighs. She wasn’t quite sure she liked how thick she was, but at least her stomach was tight and smooth. In her mind, however, she was nowhere near perfect.
She definitely had a plump bottom, quickly filling out the new bikini that she slid up her legs. They settled nicely on her, hugging her curves.
Next was the top. Her breasts lay bare and perfect, her hands molding around them, almost a habit before a mirror.
After eyeing herself to satisfaction, she put on the bra and paced away from her image. The sun would be going down. She had to shower and get ready before Charles got back. She didn’t want him bickering about how long she took.
She discovered the shower was a double meant for two. The bathroom was spacious with marble countertops, seashells decorating the surface. She quickly unclasped her new swim top and slid down her bottom. The bathroom was well equipped for all of her needs ahead of time. There was no need to fumble in her suitcase for razors or shampoo.
So she hopped in, turned the water on, and shivered as the co
ol unexpected droplets crashed onto her skin. She wasn’t one to wait for the water to heat up. That took way too much time. She wanted the shower over with before he got back.
Within a few minutes she had shaved, nicked herself a little and wiped away the smudge of blood, and gotten out of the shower.
Wrapped up in her towel she stood before the fogged mirror and brushed out her long hair. Charles must have been back because she saw the light under the door flicker on, and the sun had begun to drop below the horizon. Pretty soon, evening would be upon them. It was after all a long day, and she was looking forward to going to bed. But before that, she would have to meet his parents, which she was extremely nervous about. What if they didn’t like her?
She shook her head in an effort to clear her thoughts. “Don’t freak out,” she whispered to herself.
A knock on the door alerted her to his presence. “Are you okay in there?”
“Yes, Babe, I’m fine,” she voiced, trying to convince him to stay out of the bathroom. He was overly protective and she wanted her time to get ready.
Unfortunately, he waltzed right in, aiming for the shower. Of course, he had every right to the bathroom. She just wasn’t used to sharing it with someone.
“I need to shower real quickly.” He proceeded to strip down, but then paused upon noticing her expression. “Are you uncomfortable with me in here?” His hand came up to brush through his hair, a habit he must’ve acquired at a young age.
She shook her head, lying to him since she knew it honestly wasn’t a huge deal. It was something she would have to get used to. “Go ahead,” she coaxed, staring wide-eyed as he finished stripping in front of her.
The scar on his chest stood out above all things, but his muscles were looking bulkier than normal. Perhaps he had worked out a little before returning. Whatever it was, it was turning her on just to look. Every muscle in his back was prominent, his triceps were defined, and his biceps bulged impressively.
Instead of walking to the shower, he walked towards her. She knew her doe-eyed expression was obvious but she didn’t care. He was oozing far too much masculinity to keep her eyes away.
Towering over her petite body, he placed a large hand on her shoulder. It was bare and tingled at his touch. His creamy skin against her dark exotic tone made for a sizzling combination. This was something she herself found pleasure in.
Gazing up at him, she parted her lips invitingly. She wanted him to kiss her, to feel his hard body against her, and to ignite the passionate tension they both felt. To resist was inevitable.
His face lowered towards her, construing in a manner that betrayed raw desire. His lips softly embraced hers while his hands rose searchingly. When they touched the towel wrapped about her, he groaned deep in his throat. It was definitely in the way and he wanted nothing to do with it.
She let her arms loose. The towel dropped to the floor exposing her to the steamy warm air. She stood naked, so close to his body that the electricity from her skin seemed to dance onto him.
She could feel the magnetic pull towards him, the electricity of their skin colliding together. When she was about to hug him, he backed away. It was rather evident just by looking southward, that he was extremely horny.
“Not now,” he said while taking a deep breath. “Later tonight we can mess around all we want,” he promised, then kissed her one last time before jumping in the shower.
She stood still for a second, letting the tension release from her body. How he could work her up so easily into a heightened sexual state was beyond explanation. And as she reluctantly relaxed, she took a deep disappointed breath.
*
Charles’ mother sat across from her, eyes narrowed and her thin mouth pursed. She studied Amber like a hawk while the butler poured her glass of wine.
“Thank you,” she dismissed him elegantly, reaching out a soft white hand for the crystal goblet. It reflected the candlelight dinner rather exquisitely.
Soft waves echoed in the distance creating a serene peaceful atmosphere. Everything about this place was perfect, from the soft coo of birds in the distance, to the moonlight casting its soft glow upon the small company of people.
“So,” Mrs. Livingston spoke amidst shallow sips. “Amber is it?” She was already developing an obvious habit of tripping over her name. Whether it was purposeful or not, it was hard to tell.
She watched through icy blue eyes as Amber nodded, smiling a bit in high spirits. The night was young and many long hours were ahead. She could already tell that things weren’t going quite as she had hoped. From the scrutinizing looks Mrs. Livingston gave her, to the stiff shoulders of Mr. Livingston, Amber seemed at a loss for words that night.
Charles was cutting his prawns with extreme eagerness. He must have been starving by the looks of it. But as the atmosphere grew awkward, he began to slow down.
Leaning his arms against the table he attempted to steer things in the right direction. “So Mom,” he said between chews. “Amber’s an amazing artist. Tell her, babe, what you do,” he suggested, hoping that perhaps voicing her qualities would make his mother soften a bit.
His mother turned from her son back to Amber with obvious curiosity. She inclined forward, waiting to hear about the subject at hand.
Amber hated being put on the spot. Talking about herself wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing to do at the moment, but it seemed she had no choice. Charles was trying to make her shine, but his parent’s obvious prejudice were killing her buzz. She didn’t like the way his mom kept staring at her, as if she wasn’t quite happy with what she saw.
Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she plowed forward. “Well, I paint,” she shuddered from the uneasy silence.
“She paints Greek mythological creatures,” Charles cut her off, completely taking control of the situation. It was something he was used to doing. “You should see them, Mom,” he beamed, pride glowing in his eyes. “The way she can use colors to paint a landscape. She’s unbelievable,” he nudged her.
Normally Amber would’ve been completely upset at him for not letting her speak, but at the moment, having the attention drawn away from her was comforting.
His mother seemed to mull things over in her mind before saying, “She seems like she’d be the kind of girl good with color.” Then she turned and smiled at her future daughter-in-law. The corners of her mouth upturned sharply to match her bleach blonde eye brows. Amber’s jaw almost dropped, but she kept firm. She was a female and understood that smile all too well. Was that a direct attack to her race or was it just innocent prattle? Either way, his mom wasn’t inclined to open up to her at all or cast any signs of affection towards her. It almost seemed in the last few minutes of their dinner conversation, that she was completely turned off by the choice her son was making. It was a horrible feeling, but perhaps it was reality.
Mr. Livingston didn’t say a word during the entire conversation. He sat at the head of the long table, picking at his plate and turning back and forth as each person in turn spoke up. He didn’t seem a man of many words. He preferred to let everyone else do the talking.
“So,” the mother’s gaze turned to Charles. “How did you two meet, if you don’t mind me asking?” She stabbed at a stray green bean with violent force.
“That’s a story for another time, Mother,” he shot her a warning glance. “I’ve already told you this.”
She tilted her head and bit into the crisp green bean roughly, chewing slowly and intentionally. Noticing that Amber hadn’t touched hers, she pointed towards her with her own silver fork. “Don’t care for vegetables my dear?” her voice came out sticky like molasses. “You know what they say about not eating vegetables when you’re pregnant,” she lowered her eyes.
Then she continued on the subject as Charles loudly objected and Amber protested. “I’m not preg…” But her voice was drowned out as Mrs. Livingston continued.
“I don’t understand you young girls today, spreading your legs for any handsome
rich young man that comes in your path. There is protection for a reason, son,” she accused, laying eyes on Charles. “Why else would you two just rush into getting married?”
Mr. Livingston finally had it. “That’s enough, dear,” he gruffly reprimanded his wife. “Let the poor girl breathe. We aren’t interrogating her. She’s marrying your son for crying out loud, so let her be.”
She gasped, utterly appalled by his forceful intrusion. But she said no more. Biting her tongue she quit her yapping and concentrated on her plate.
Charles took the advantage to speak. “Mother,” his tone was seriously demanding. “Amber is not pregnant. We are getting married because we love each other. No more, no less. If you can’t accept that fact because you have some secrets lying beneath that thick skin of yours, then please keep it to yourself.” He shook his head disappointingly at her, then shot Amber a look of sincere apology. “I was hoping that things would have gone down differently. I was wrong to think so.”
“I’m sorry dear,” his mother quickly apologized. “I’m just going based on your previous track record,” she wormed her way out slyly. “You divorced poor sweet Liv so suddenly. I don’t quite know how to handle it. And then you tell me you’re marrying some girl we hadn’t even heard about? What else do you want me to think?” Her eyes poured deep from her soul those confused motherly concerns harboring deep in her heart.
She, however, in no way shape or form, turned to address Amber. She was saving face to her son, and her son alone.
Amber stared at her glass now, not quite sure what to do. She wanted to get out of this place. She could tell she wasn’t as welcome as they let on. Charles was merely trying to force his parents to approve of everything without giving them time to adjust. It was understandable his mother felt threatened, but something told her it wasn’t entirely the reasons she played off.
