Bad and Bougie (Feeling Some Type of Way Book 2)

by Vera Roberts

  Ian’s eyes quickly went from loving to angry. I could figuratively see the storm raging within them. “I’ll handle your father.”

  “No, baby, I don’t want you to get involved. He’s not worth it.” I shake my head.

  “Someone disrespects you, they’re disrespecting me,” he stated without argument. “I’ll handle Daddy Dearest. I want you to focus on the studio.” He gets out of bed. “Breakfast.”

  He stands by the bedroom door and waits for me to get out of bed. He wasn’t playing. Fine. I begrudgingly get out of bed and follow him to the kitchen. “Oh cheer up,” he smacks my ass and I yelp.

  I turn to him pretending to be upset he slapped my ass but really, I kinda liked it. A lot. “That…hurts.” I try not to smile but Ian knows I liked it.

  “Ooh, so you do want to be spanked.” He picks me up and carries me to the kitchen, where he sits me on the counter. He takes out some veggies, eggs, and fruits to start preparing breakfast.

  Well, not just spanked. I want to do so many things. He mentioned he wanted to experience all of my holes and I’m not sure if my virgin ass can take all of Ian’s girth. Maybe if I’m drunk enough…

  I shake my head and relieve myself of already horny thoughts at nine in the morning. Ian turns on old soul music and starts humming along.

  “Marvin Gaye,” I approvingly nod. “What you know about Marvin?”

  “Marvin was the soundtrack to my dating life,” Ian reveals as “Distant Lover” plays overhead. “I can almost recount how influential he was in different aspects of my life.”

  “What’s your favorite Marvin Gaye song?” I ask.

  “This one. It’s just perfect in every way.” He softly shakes his head as we both listen to the song. “A lover talking about how much he misses and appreciates his lover from a distance? The passion, the desperation, the longing, everything about it is just so perfect.” He looks up and catches my eyes. “It reminds how I longed for you.”

  The way Ian looked at me stole my breath away and I honestly had to remember how to breathe in that moment. I quickly change the subject before I show him how flexible I am and blow him over this counter, hanging upside down. “What other music you like?”

  “I’m a huge fan of the Motown sound. The Supremes, Four Tops, Temptations, The Jacksons, The Miracles….just such a magical time in music. It’s music that lasts forever.” His British accent fills the room. “A lot of the music today are trending topics. Years from now, you’ll be hard-pressed to remember a song from so and so because they’ve disappeared into ‘Where Are They Now?’ land. But Motown is forever.”

  I’m amazed. I didn’t think Bae would be such a fan of old soul music. “Is me being on here even sanitary?” I ask.

  “Probably not,” he smiles, “but I want something beautiful to look at while I prepare breakfast.”

  And just like that, I don’t feel insecure about my body anymore. “How did you know you wanted to open your own restaurant?”

  “I’ve always loved food. Gerald was always the fussier of us and would turn up his nose at just about everything. He still does. I always wanted to explore.” He takes out leftover lobster from Sentiment and sets it aside. “So I went to cookery school in London, learned everything I could, worked under some of the best chefs in the world, and came back to the States to open my first restaurant. Sentiment, to my surprise, was a runaway smash from the gate. Five years later, I opened 3121.”

  “Why those numbers?” I ask. “They seem random.”

  “They’re not,” he shakes his head, “it’s my mother’s birthday in reverse.”

  1213. It makes perfect sense. “Why not call it 1213?”

  “3121 sounded better. Plus, it’s also a Prince album so I knew it was a sign,” he grins.

  It’s so weird to see Ian to be such a Prince fanatic. Not weird as in odd but weird as in I thought The Doors, The Beatles, and any other group with white men playing instruments and singing emo songs would be more his speed. He’s forever surprising me.

  This would’ve been the perfect time to ask Ian if the rumor – well, not sure if it’s a rumor since it actually happened – if what Emma told me about the family was true. Emma has no reason to lie to me and it’ll be a huge one to make up just for the sake of talking.

  I still can’t shake the feeling the issue between the Christensens and the Fergusons isn’t over. I’m curious what’s going to happen next.

  ~~~~~

  “I found a place for a studio,” I cautiously began over breakfast, “it’s not too far from here on Fairfax.”

  “Oh?” Ian briefly looked up at me from his tablet. His reading glasses at the bridge of his nose and his eyes full of serious awareness. How is that he aroused me and he’s only just looking at me? I think my man could make me aroused with a potato sack on his head. “What did you find?”

  “I took pictures!” I took out my iPhone and showed him the pictures of the studio. The hardwood floors. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors. The open windows. Even the ventilation system. I had it all covered.

  I waited on baited breath as Ian carefully swiped through the pictures and only blinked at them. Not a definite no. Not a solid yes. Just silence.

  “It looks good,” he finally revealed after moments of agonizing silence. Gosh, I’m so dramatic. Or as Eli D’Amato would say it, dramatical. “We should swing by and take a look at it over the weekend.”

  “Great!” I beamed. That was the easy part. Now here was the real test. “There’s also one other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “And the hammer drops,” he swiped on his tablet, “lay it on me.”

  “Well, before the horrible phone call from my dad, I received one from a rapper named Dolce Gabbana.” I paused and waited for Ian to show any interest (or displeasure) at what I was saying. Nothing, so I continued. “He wants me to dance in his video.”

  Ian immediately stopped swiping and took a bite of his lobster eggs. He slowly chewed as his eyes returned to crinkling and silently questioning why his girlfriend was ruining his breakfast. “What are you going to be doing exactly?”

  “Well, just the typical stuff.”

  “Show me,” he put away the tablet, “if you’re going to be shaking it in a video, I would like to see a sample of it first.”

  My eyes narrowed at him. “Are you saying that because you want to see me shake my ass right now?”

  “That’s exactly why I’m saying it,” he chuckled, “don’t be shy now, angel. Let’s go.”

  “All right, all right,” I wiped my mouth and stood up. I scrolled through my Sex Me Up playlist and picked “Kiss It Better” by Rihanna. I waited to feel the beat and once I did, I forgot Ian was even in the room. I closed my eyes and my body had a mind of its own. I twisted and turned along the guitar riffs, gyrating and slow winding at the right moments.

  I rolled over and finish into the splits as Ian’s eyebrows raised when I mouthed ‘fuck yo pride’ to him. It was more than a song and me asking for permission. I was telling him how things were between us. He wasn’t dating an airhead bimbo like he’d used to. On the same tip, I didn’t want my newfound feminism to be a wedge between us.

  It was my body, but it was Ian’s reputation. Whatever I did (or didn’t do) would indirectly reflect on him. Would Ian he truly be comfortable knowing his girlfriend was shaking it in a rapper’s video? Would people stop going to the Ferguson because of it?

  Would I ever stop being so damn emo? Find out the next episode of Lame and Dusty.

  I suddenly heard the music stopped and turned around. Ian held my phone and tapped his manicured fingers on top of it. “I like it,” he said.

  “Soooo….”I searched his eyes for answers and received nothing. “Does this mean you’re okay with it?”

  “I think it’s wonderful. I would love to see the finished product!” He revealed his warm smile.

  I was expecting Ian to tell me hell to the no and give a thesis paper of why it was a bad idea. Instead
, he wholeheartedly agreed. Dare I say, he seemed excited about it. “Really?”

  “As long as you don’t come home with glitter and all that on you, I’m totally cool with it.” He grinned.

  I rushed over to him and sat on his lap, placing a series of small kisses all over his face. “I, Genesis Dominique Kimbrough, hereby solemnly swear to you, Ian Daniel Ferguson, that I won’t come home looking like a sparkly vampire, whenever I have to do a special show.”

  Ian slowly chewed his food as floating question marks surfaced in his eyes. “Sparkly vampire?”

  “Oh God!” I clenched my eyes shut and felt them rolling hard to the sky. “Please tell me you have an idea what I’m referring to?”

  “Not a clue,” he shook his head.

  “Um, Twilight?” My eyes widened to Bratz dolls proportions. “The greatest book series ever followed by the greatest movie series ever?” His eyes remained a firm blank. “Team Edward? Team Jacob?”

  “Oh, okay,” he finally nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief, “now it sounds familiar to me. I think a former fling might have mentioned it.”

  “Did you watch it with her?”

  “No, I was too busy trying to fuck her to care what she liked,” he admitted. I can’t knock my man for his honesty. “Besides, I don’t think that would’ve been anything I liked. The vampires I grew up on were a bit more….manly.”

  “Oh?” I took up his Pepsi challenge. “And who were your vampires, Mr. Man?”

  “The Lost Boys,” he said with a smirk so sexy, I almost jumped him bones. Hell, I might do that later. “I would name names but I have a good feeling you wouldn’t know who in the hell I’m talking about. So, the other vampire movie I liked was Interview with a Vampire starring Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt.”

  My jaw dropped to the floor. “Shut up! Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt made a movie together?!”

  “Yes,” Ian nodded, “and believe it or not, there were pagers, fax machines, and not everyone owned a cell phone.”

  “Brat!” I stuck out my tongue and he chuckled. “So, were they super hot in it?”

  “You know that’s not a question I can answer,” he replied, “so I guess you have to watch it for yourself.”

  “It’s a date!” I nodded. “We’ll have a Twilight movie binge…”

  “Oh God why…” He groaned.

  “And then we can watch your old people’s movies,” I stuck out my tongue again. “Deal?”

  “Deal,” he softly moaned in my ear as his lips placed a series of kisses on my neck, “I have some time to spare before I head to Sentiment.”

  “Oh?” I felt his hands wander all over my body until they landed in front of my tank top, where he slowly began to unbutton it. “And what do you have in mind?”

  “You keep sticking your tongue out at me,” he nibbled on my ear, “I want to see what you can do with it.”

  I do want to blow Ian but I’m craving something else more. “I know what I want you to do,” I moaned.

  “Mmm…” he replied. “…and what is that, angel?”

  “I want you to…” Where in the hell did this nymph come from? I’m convinced I was a closet freak. “…I want you to fuck me doggy style.”

  Ian simply nodded. He stood up and carried me back to our bedroom. “Normally, I would take you anywhere but this position, I need you to be in comfortable area first.”

  “Oh?” I’ll be on all fours but other than rug burn, I’m not sure what Ian means by that.

  “You’ll be arching your back in a weird way,” he stated, “and I might restrain you.”

  I felt my tongue make a quick dart to wet my suddenly dry lips. “Oh?”

  “It’s not what you think. You’re not ready for that yet.” He places me on the bed. “Enough chit-chat, undress.”

  I hurriedly remove my clothing as Ian sheds his. He climbs on top of me and cradles my face with his hands. His blue eyes stare deep into mine and all is right in the world. “Angel, you’re so beautiful.”

  “Thank you, baby.” I’ve never felt so loved, so embraced by any man. Ian is rare.

  “I’ll be as gentle as I can. Tell me when it hurts, okay?”

  I don’t know about that. I’m almost tempted to ask him to hurt me. Down, girl. Down! “I will.”

  He kisses my lips, slow and methodical before he moves onto my neck. I became anxious, almost greedy for him as he moved down my body. He softly kissed my breasts while a free hand caressed all over my body.

  His hands found my sex and my thighs magically spread wider and more open for him. He inserted one finger, then another, and I cried out in acceptance. He knew how to pleasure me without asking. He never had to stop and wonder if he was doing anything right. He just knew.

  My back arched off the bed as I began to ride his fingers. I feel his eyes on me, watching my reaction, and changing the tempo depending on what my face expresses. My skin was hot to the touch, my nipples were rock hard, and all I wanted was for Ian inside me.

  Heat wrecked my body as his fingers circled me. His thumb played with my swollen nub while his fingers relentlessly fucked me. My body writhed to the rhythm of his fingers but he stilled me with his free hand. “Enjoy this.” It came out as a cross between a warning and an order.

  I’m frustrated as he continues to play with me. My toes curled up into tight balls and I gasped and grabbed at the pillows behind me. Ian’s left hand steadied on my waist while his right played with me like a guitar, slowly plucking away at different notes to see which ones could produce the register he wanted.

  Then I felt his glorious tongue and I’m about to lose my mind. Ian’s tongue is exploratory, greedy, and expert. How in the hell is it all of the three and I’m the lucky one? He gently sucks on me while his fingers still play with me.

  Is this heaven? It damn sure feels like it.

  Ian removes his hand and I feel it crawl up my body, reaching my lips. I open my mouth wide and greedily suck on his fingers, tasting myself, and staring back at him. “Oh, my good girl wants to be bad,” he winks at me. He slowly enters me and I gasp at the friction and pressure. I still can’t get used to his size and I don’t think I ever will.

  “So precious, so tight,” he murmurs. He gathers my legs up, puts them on his shoulders, and begins to move slowly inside me. It was an agonizingly slow pace, and I felt my sex suckling at him with every thrust. He filled me with every hard and thick inch of his, and I become desperate for more.

  “Hold on,” he warns and I clutch onto the bed. He slams into me once, shocking me breathless. Then he does it again and again. He momentarily stops and I hear a soft sigh from him. “Damn, angel.” He moans.

  Hearing him moan is so hot. I love I’m reason he’s enjoying himself. “Baby…” My voice comes out breathy and longing. I need more. This is not enough.

  Ian began to move faster, ripping more moans from my body with each stroke. Just when I think my body couldn’t have felt more pleasure, Ian showed me it could. Heat pooled into my sex and my legs started to tremble and shake, as I teetered on the edge.

  He suddenly withdrew and I felt the loss of him. My eyes flew open and Ian had a sexy smirk across his lips. “Turn over, angel.”

  This was it. My first time doing doggy style. I just hope I would like it. Something tells me I might end up loving it.

  I quickly turned over and Ian grabbed my waist, pulling me back. “Arch down as far as you can go and as comfortable,” he instructed. I did as I was told and braced myself by grabbing the pillows. “Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready,” I nod.

  “Good,” Ian climbs off the bed and I’m confused at what’s going on. Is there a reason why I’m face down, ass up, and he’s not behind me?

  He went to the closet to retrieve something and reappeared a short time later. I feel Ian climbed back onto the bed and gather one of my hands, followed by the other one. Something smooth, possibly silk, was tied around my wrists.

  Just when I was about to ask what was up wi
th the restraints, Ian gives my ass a sharp smack. I mean, that shit fucking hurt!

  (In a good way, I should add. Zaddy hurt me real good…)

  “Ian!” The scream is ripped out of my throat. The skin on my ass stings and my toes once again curl as the pain travels through my body. Damn, I liked that. I loved that.

  “Good,” he kisses my ass and caresses the part he just spanked, “you liked being spanked. I’ll be sure to remember that for the future.”

  Shit, in case he can’t, I’ll gladly videotape, DVR, and put it on a 24/7 streaming service.

  Ian swiftly enters me again and I loudly gasped. There’s no holding back on his end. I feel all of him inside of me and he’s buried deep inside. Holy shit!

  My eyes water as my brain tries to grasp exactly what the hell is going on. I don’t even know. I never took all of Ian before and now all of him is buried deep inside me. My brain doesn’t have any coherent thoughts and I’m not sure if I could even say anything more than the first letter of the alphabet.

  He moves hard and fast inside me, with one hand steadying my waist and the other holding my wrists together. Pain and pleasure worked together in tandem, feeling each at different points. I shrieked and sighed at moments, while I screamed during others. And when I couldn’t screamed, I just gasped in awe and bewilderment.

  “Does my angel like how I’m fucking her?”

  Ian’s voice was calm, cool, and collected as if he were discussing the latest gadget he just purchased. I’m screaming to the heavens, silently praying my man doesn’t stop fucking me the exact way I want it, and he’s carrying on like it’s no big deal.

  Big dick bastard.

  “Fuck yes!” I screamed. I grunted, cursed, and shrieked. Gosh, who in the hell is the woman coming out of me?

  Ian increased his tempo and I’m about to fucking lose it. One hand tightened around my wrists while the other remained on my ass. “Take it, take it…” He moaned.

  My legs tremble, my throat is parched, and my body is on fire. The orgasm is steadily approaching. My sex tightens around his shaft and the heat in my belly intensifies. Hot pinpoints of pleasure race through my body and I hear Ian’s moans becoming louder as well. He’s almost close, too, and he’s barely hanging on by a string.