“I forgot… how… it was… supposed to… feel,” she panted breathlessly.
He grinned down at the inspiring view as her breasts swayed with each thrust and her eyes fell to half-mast when the need overtook her.
“Harder,” she gasped, “please, harder.”
His hips heard her plea and he pounded her relentlessly, letting their blended urgency overwhelm their patience. He wanted to kiss her ferociously but even in his erotic haze, he knew better than to damage her injured lip. Instead Damian sunk his teeth into her exposed neck, sending her into writhing shivers beneath him. His fingers rolled and tugged at her nipples, enticing the shivers into full shudders. He dug his nails into her hips, and pulled her down against him with every thrust.
Victoria raked her nails down his back as her climax overtook her and as her body squeezed tightly around his aching cock, he exploded inside her. They grunted together and clutched at each other until the aftershocks subsided.
Damian’s bulging biceps finally gave out, and he collapsed onto her body, protecting her from the cool wind of the overhead fan. She wrapped her arms and legs around his warmth and held him against her.
Damian reached over her head and managed to wrap his fingers around the blanket that sat on the arm. He pulled it over them, and shifted his weight until he was curled around her petite body.
“I forgot it could be good,” she murmured softly.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been so long since I enjoyed it, or even wanted it.”
He nuzzled the pulse in her neck and pulled her body against his. She was amazed at the sturdiness of him; not just his muscles or his long legs but the solidity of how he felt around and beside her. He was drop-dead sexy but comforting as well. She could hardly believe that none of those other girls were smart enough to realize this.
As though he read the thoughts that raced through her mind, he chuckled.
“It’s not that,” he whispered against her ear.
“What’s not what?”
“It’s not that they don’t see it; it’s that I don’t see anything in them. They’re fake and empty and not worth the effort of a second date. And there’s no way they would be interested in my real life. The life that isn’t all about black leather and motorcycles. That’s just my weekend fun.”
“What do you mean?” Victoria asked sleepily. The toe-curling orgasms were slowly ebbing away her energy and motivation to speak.
“You think those stupid bimbos would be interested in an investment banker in a suit behind his desk at the office?”
She giggled, “Really? That’s what you do?”
“See? No one believes me. I have a condo in the city and just spend my weekends out here having fun at the bars and whatever.”
“That’s not what I heard,” she mumbled.
Damian laughed, “It helps to keep people at arm’s length.”
She wiggled closer to his body heat as the sleepiness won over, and he simply laid his head on the throw pillow behind him and joined her in the dream.
Chapter Nine
A couple hours later, they both started to stir as the stiffness crept into their necks and shoulders. Victoria stretched languidly under the cozy blanket and gasped when she felt Damian behind her. In the haze between asleep and awake, she had thought it was just a very nice dream. But the pressing of his half-hard cock against her thighs indicated that it had been real.
She giggled and tried not to disturb him as she snuck out from under the blanket. She scooped up her clothes as she scurried to her bathroom. She returned wearing her panties and tee shirt, but slipped back under the blanket instead of putting back on the yoga pants.
Damian finally awoke as he felt her slide back in place, and he ran his hands lightly over her hip.
“That’s cheating,” he said in a deep husky tone.
“What is?”
“Sneaking away to put clothes on,” he chuckled.
She rolled over to look up at him, and she realized he was only half kidding. His hands tickled her tummy lightly as they traced the waistband of her panties. His fingers froze when they heard a key in the lock. Damian politely pulled the blanket back up so that they were covered while they waited for an entrance. They ignored the fact that his clothes were still piled up on the floor.
Amber stumbled in moments later, giggling and trying not to drop her purse.
“Oh! Hi there! Sorry to interrupt!” she bubbled, followed by another round of giggles.
“I gotta get out of these high heels,” she volunteered as she weaved her way to her bedroom.
As soon as she closed the door behind her, Victoria grinned at Damian and passed him his jeans under the blanket. Her mind raced with thoughts of a second round as she felt him writhe behind her to get into the jeans. Her hand reached down and lightly grazed his cock before he had a chance to zip them up. He growled low and deep in her ear but zipped up anyway.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he whispered as he climbed over her to leave.
He pulled his tee shirt over his head and winked at her. “We’re not finished.”
She laughed and snuggled under the blanket further as he closed the door behind himself.
Amber finally returned from her bedroom in sweatpants and a tee shirt.
“Oh, he didn’t have to leave,” she whined.
Victoria waved her off, “It’s fine. I know where he lives.”
“So… tell me all about it, Ms. Barely Dressed on the Couch?”
The disheveled brunette laughed, “Worth every penny.”
Amber crowed her congratulations and offered a high five.
“But…” Victoria started to say something then bit her lip into silence.
“But what?”
“I’m afraid it was more than that. He’s something else.”
“He’s gorgeous,” Amber breathed.
“Yeah, he’s definitely that. But I didn’t realize there was more that muscles and motorcycles. I could be in trouble here…” Victoria’s voice trailed off into unspoken questions.
“Like what?”
“Like actually getting to know him.”
“Oh dear.”
“Yeah, ‘oh dear’ is right.” Victoria was hesitant to state the obvious even to her best friend.
She sat up on the couch next to Amber and stretched her bare legs out to the coffee table with the blanket still bundled around herself.
“Oh dear what?” Amber kept pressing.
“He might actually have substance…”
“What? Oh my god? A gorgeous man WITH a soul? What is the world coming to?”
Victoria burst into laughter, “I know! What do we do with him?”
Amber rested her cheek on Victoria’s shoulder, “We hang on to him. Tightly.”
“Oh I did!”
The two women eventually headed off to their respective bedrooms for the night. As Victoria was drifting back to sleep, she heard a soft knock on the patio door. She tossed on her yoga pants and went to investigate. Damian was standing there on their patio with one hand tucked casually into the waistband of his jeans.
“Hi there,” she whispered.
“Hey yourself. Can you come out for a minute?”
“One second…” Victoria ran to her purse to grab her cigarettes.
She reappeared with a sweatshirt over her tee shirt, and stepped out quietly.
“What’s going on? Everything okay?”
“No, not really,” Damian actually looked nervous.
“Are you—? What’s going on? Did I do something? Did she do something?”
“No, it’s not that. I just meant… well, what I said before, that we’re not finished.”
“Ohhh… well, maybe tomorrow, but I’m kind of tired tonight.”
He chuckled, “Not that. Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”
“Really? A real date? I’d love that.”
“Me too,” he said softly as he pressed a lingerin
g kiss on the pulse in her neck.
THE END
A Thug to Remember
I
Stop me if you’ve heard this one. It’s a fairy tale of sorts but it’s what you might call a politically incorrect fairy tale. And it goes like this… Once upon a time, there was a fine classy woman named Thelma Grayson. She was the classic overachiever. This woman was raised by a senator for a father and a piano teacher for a mother. From the moment she came into this world, she was destined to be a star.
Not just a movie star, even though the camera loved her. More like a leader, God forbid, even a politician. Thelma had class, you see. She was the type of woman who spoke to every person she ever met eye to eye. There were no secrets and no excuses for not doing her very best. She graduated from college with a master’s degree in business administration and with top honors. Wherever she was going she was destined for greatness.
And then lo and behold, one day she just happened to meet the wrong man. That’s how it always starts, isn’t it?
It was a Monday when Thelma got the call from Stella. Now Stella was, simply put, every underachiever you’ve ever met. Last place in life and last place in college, barely earning an associate’s degree and instead shacking up with some fool who wanted an instant family. Some women can smell money like a wolf smells a sheep. So naturally when Stella proposed to Thelma an offer she couldn’t refuse, Thelma refused it.
“I just don’t see any benefit to going to an old school reunion,” Thelma said cautiously talking to Stella at brunch. “I never really made friends in high school.”
They were both beautiful black women in their late twenties but Stella had the legs and boobs—or at least she gave evidence of such. Thelma dressed conservatively and not because it was moral or what she ought to do—but because she felt she deserved something special. And, once the man that measured up to her exquisite tastes was chosen, he would receive something very special. She also had those dark eyes and that long and TV-friendly smile that screamed anchorwoman, or maybe even future president of the United States.
“Come on, Thelma. You are destined to be great, girl. But don’t get all sassy when it comes to remembering the little people. They’re the people who made you who you are, you know.”
“It’s not that. Of course I have love for my people,” Thelma said with a squint. But these silly reunions always seem to be the same thing. Hooking up with old flames, or showing off to your old girlfriend. It’s about revisiting those silly days of immaturity.”
“Oh Thelma,” laughed Stella. “You don’t have to be on guard every second of the day. When do you ever find the time to relax and have fun anyway?”
“Well…” she said in hesitance. “I watch television sometimes. Daytime TV.”
“No, no, I mean when do you have fun? When do you go out and socialize with people that aren’t important to your career?”
“I…I don’t see the need to.”
“That right there is your problem. Come on, sister. We got to get you out and about. To see how fun life can be before you decide to become a Supreme Court judge or a ‘serious issues’ talk show host.”
Thelma laughed. “Okay, if you insist. But please don’t leave me alone with any of the weirdos. You know I get all tongue tied when I meet someone of questionable intelligence.”
“I know. You’re just practicing for your new role as head of the NAACP.”
Thelma laughed. “Who else is going to be there?”
“We all figured we’d go as a group. Because remember, when I was there I had my own clique. Brandye and Shakiska. Gina and Shaniqua. Well Shaniqua and Brandye are going for sure. So we best ride with them because they’re a bunch of loud mouths that are going to keep the rude people away from us.”
“Our security team?” laughed Thelma. “Oh but what do I do if someone…you know…”
“What?”
“Comes onto me?”
Stella giggled. “Then you say, Uh uh. What gives you the right, playa? To hit on Thelma Grayson, future president and CEO. Come on. Nobody’s that nice. What did you do in high school?”
“I kept myself occupied. I was a good girl. And as for now, well I do much appreciate the block button on Facebook. It saves from having those awkward conversations. But in person…”
“Yeah it’s a problem in person,” Stella laughed. There is no block button in real life.”
“I don’t know…I don’t get along well in groups. I don’t do that well at parties. Maybe I should skip this one…”
“No ma’am. You owe me this, Thelma. If you’re destined to become a powerful executive or congresswoman or whatever, you need to at least have one last rendezvous with your childhood friend.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on! Don’t make me drag you to the school, kicking and screaming.”
“Sort of like my entire first year of kindergarten,” replied Thelma.
“Think of it as a learning experience. You’re going to have to meet all sorts of crazy fools where you’ll be going. How are you going to deal with them? Block button, Thelma.”
“All right,” she sighed in surrender. “But if any shenanigans start, I’m holding you responsible.”
II
Shenanigans were few and far between, at least for the first hour of this most prestigious night. The ten-year reunion, held at both the Lincoln Heights High School as well as the nearby Curtis Recreation Center, was as classy as Thelma would have it. Mostly everybody who showed up wore suits and was very eager to discuss their advancement in society. Thelma wasn’t even the most conservative personality there, considering that some old classmates she remembered went onto marry millionaires, while others became lawyers, and still others entrepreneurs who started their own company.
Truth be told, she almost felt outshined by some of her contemporaries. She hadn’t “arrived” yet, even though she had promise. If nothing else, it let the woman embrace her natural competitiveness. Yes, Thelma liked to dream, and not one of those dreams seemed to involve settling down with a well to do young black man. Sure, there were a few gawkers and suave types that gave her a formal introduction, but Thelma retained her strong social image and handled those conversations so well, so brilliantly, the men didn’t even realize they had been rejected. Until, of course, they found themselves kicked out of line and heading to the other side of the room.
By the time hour two rolled around, Thelma started to relax, chatting up with her friends and sharing memories about old times. It wasn’t until hour two and a half that destiny knocked on the door and changed Thelma’s life forever. Chaos always has a way of destroying the unity, doesn’t it?
Anton Bridges walked through the door as if he were kicking his way into a saloon. Surrounded by his posse of badass pirates, he nodded like he owned the place and was ready to fire the entire staff. He wore baggy pants and a red hoodie, looking as if he just crawled out of the ghetto and was ready to go back in like a fish out of water.
Security was alarmed and guards came over to carefully watch his next move.
“Who’s that over there?”
“Oh my Lord,” Stella said, watching the scene in horror. “They said he would never show his face…that’s Anton Bridges.”
“Did he go to this school?”
“He was a freshmen the year we graduated,” Stella whispered. “But he was expelled. Since then he’s been arrested as a political protester a half dozen times. And you know what that means…”
“A protester?”
“A thug, Thelma. It’s what white people call a black man who’s a no good fool, just to be polite.”
“And what does he protest?” she asked noticing Anton was already giving attitude to some of the security guards.
“I don’t know, the system, honkeys. The fact that his stupid ass isn’t on TV hawking products. He’s a gangster, plain and simple.”
Thelma made a sour face. She was watching Anton like everybody else, hoping he wasn�
�t going to do anything crazy. But, feeling all those eyes on him, white eyes and Uncle Tom eyes, only gave Anton more incentive to cause a scene.
“My fellow Americans,” he said with a smile as he invaded everyone’s personal space. “I have never seen so many pretty people before. So many beautiful white people. So many beautiful niggas pretending to be white. It feels good, doesn’t it, to fit in?”
The crowd murmured and security began tussling with his surrounding gang.
“No, no, no,” he said, looking at the commotion. “We’re not here to fight. I just came to deliver ya’ll a message. I came from this school. It’s my reunion too. But I see that I was purposely left off the invitation list. So what’s up with that? Are you ashamed of me?”
The crowd stood deadly silent.
“Get out of here,” a security guard said. “Or we’ll call the police.”
“Oh, you calling the police? Why? Because you don’t like the way I dress? Because I’m not like the beautiful people. You couldn’t be referring to my criminal record. Because I’ll bet a half dozen of you niggas been busted for pot, for DUI or maybe even taking a bribe. But that’s not the kind of shit you hear on the news, now is it?”
Taken By The Forbidden Highlander (Scottish Highlander Romance) Page 36
