Safe Space II: The Finale

by Tiffany Patterson

  “No competition, because you’re not trying to woo me. I’m your attorney and a very good one at that, which you need, since this is your third divorce and you didn’t have a prenuptial agreement.”

  It was Richard’s turn to let out a belly laugh as our waiter returned with our drinks and took our dinner orders. I ordered the crab cakes with sweet potatoes and salad greens, while Richard opted for the porterhouse with a side of broccoli and cheddar mashed potatoes. When that was completed, we finally got down to business. Richard had his assistant email me over his financial records earlier in the week, along with his soon-to-be-ex-wife's demands. She was asking for half of his properties, which was ridiculous since they’d only been married three years and had no children together.

  “So, you think you can help me, darlin’?” Richard asked as we finished up our dinner and I completed going over all of his options.

  “Of course I can, if you make me one promise,” I stated seriously.

  His hazel eyes zeroed in on me as he squinted. “What’s that?” Gone was the playful Richard, replaced by the cautious, business-savvy entrepreneur who knew not to agree to anything before terms were clear.

  I leaned into the table. “You come to me the next time you decide to get married so we can write you up a proper prenup.”

  He busted out laughing, but I sat back in my seat, serious. Richard was as smart as they came to business, but dumb in matters of love. He had a knack for real estate, and even during the economic downturn that had hit construction companies hard, he’d continued to thrive. When it came to business he reminded me of the very owner of this restaurant. That thought had my eyes floating toward the back exit, which was the last place I’d spotted Xavier. A part of me hoped I wouldn’t see him again before I was able to sneak out, while another part told me that was a lie.

  “I’m sure I can do that,” Richard answered to my earlier proposition, bringing my attention back to the table.

  “Good, then you’ve got yourself an attorney.” I extended my hand across the table for him to shake. In true Richard Crawford fashion, instead of a handshake, he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “We’re going to have to do something about your flirting,” I grinned.

  “Many have tried, all have failed.”

  We both stood from the table after Richard insisted on taking care of the check.

  “Hold on a sec, darlin’.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Son, what’s going on?”

  I stood by our table, hearing the urgency in Richard’s voice.

  “Okay, okay. I’ll be there.”

  “Everything all right?” I asked.

  “Not really. It seems my damn kid got himself in trouble again. See, this is what I mean by a good woman needing to settle him down.”

  “Don’t look at me,” I responded after he gave me an expectant look.

  “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Go, go ahead. I need to head to the restroom anyway. Take care of your family.”

  “Thank you. I’ll have my assistant send you the papers we discussed on Monday.”

  I nodded, and Richard hurried off. I gave him one last look before I gazed around the dining restaurant, making sure that a certain pair of coffee brown eyes weren’t anywhere in sight. Satisfied that I didn’t see Xavier, I headed off to the restroom to relieve myself before heading to my car. I wished there was an exit that wouldn’t lead me through the rest of the restaurant where I could run into him.

  ****

  Xavier

  I watched as she strutted away from the table towards the bathroom.

  “Aye Brian, take care of things for a little while.” Brian was an assistant manager at another restaurant who’d been helping me at Grant’s tonight.

  “No problem.”

  His response was met with my back as I’d already started toward the women’s restroom. I was propelled by a mix of curiosity, need, and yes, I’m man enough to admit jealousy. Seeing her laughing with another man pissed me the hell off. A man who looked old enough to be her father. As I approached the bathroom door, I talked myself off the ledge just enough to prevent me from barging into the women’s bathroom. I wasn’t in the mood to be accused of sexual harassment by my female customers. Instead, I stood just outside the door, waiting. Creepy? Maybe. But needed in this case.

  As soon as she stepped out of the restroom, her back turned to me, my entire body felt it. My instincts told me to reach out and pull her into me, but I held off. I’m not a man led by instincts alone, but with this woman, it was often difficult to let my saner, more logical side do the leading.

  I watched as she used her hand to push her hair behind her ear, a move that always got to me for some reason. Her ass was sitting high in the black pants she wore, due to the high-heeled red bottoms on her feet. Up top, she had on a sleeveless, cream ruffled top, which she’d tucked in at the waist. A whiff of her Dior J’dore perfume caught my nose, and that sparked my anger even more. She’d worn the perfume I’d bought for her out to dinner with another man?

  “What the—?” her startled reaction cut off when she looked over her shoulder and saw it was me who’d grabbed her by the arm. An odd sense of irony hit me when the live band began playing Alicia Keys’ Wreckless Love.

  Without a word, I led her from the bathroom, through part of the dining area, ignoring the curious glances of some of the patrons, and into the back office that belonged to the restaurant manager. I flicked on the light, illuminating the room, showcasing the rather plain office space, complete with a large wooden desk in the center, a file cabinet along the wall by the door, and another on the opposite side of the room.

  “You know, this is the second time you’ve come up from behind and pulled me into a room. You’re gonna get enough of grabbing me like that!” she seethed as I pulled her into the office and slammed the door behind us. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You. You’re what’s wrong with me.” My voice came out almost too calm. I stood about a couple of feet from her, needing that little bit of space to keep my hands to myself.

  “Me?” she shrieked. “I haven’t done shit to you besides leave you alone, as requested.”

  “I never asked you to leave me alone,” I responded, dully.

  “Really, Xavier? I’m a pretty smart woman. A man telling me he's done and walking out is pretty much the definition of leave me alone.”

  “So leaving me alone is walking up in my damn restaurant with another man?”

  Her head snapped back. “I didn’t walk—”

  “So you weren’t just out there laughing and kik-ing out there with another man?”

  She blew out an over exaggerated breath. “What I do and whom I do it with is none of your goddamn business. How about that?!” She threw her hand on her hip, jutting it out to the side, using her other hand to thrust her finger at my face. Her face was marred by her anger.

  My dick stirred in my pants. Her anger always got that sort of rise out of me, and the jealousy that was flowing through my veins inspired me to take a step closer, and then another until I was directly in her face.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I growled. “Everything having to do with you is my business.” The next thing I recall seeing is Chanel’s eyes double in size as I grabbed her face between my hands and pulled her mouth to mine. I felt her squirm for a few seconds in a weak attempt to break out of my grasp. If I’d felt any real resistance, I would’ve let her go, but within seconds she was melting into me and opening up, allowing my tongue entrance. When she did, it was as if my entire body sighed in relief.

  My feet moved as I pushed Chanel’s body back against the closed door, our lips still interlocked. Her hands moved up my arms, past my biceps and up to my shoulders, gripping them, pulling me into her. I gladly obliged, leaning my body weight onto her even more.

  Seconds later, I paused, needing to come up for air. I stared down into those big ass brown eyes that made my knees weak. How I could feel st
rong enough to take on a whole army and weak enough to succumb to even the most minor of pleas in the presence of this woman always confounded me. Right now, the only thing I needed was to be buried balls deep inside her, and the look Chanel was giving me said she needed the same thing.

  She gasped when I crushed my lips to hers again and stooped low to pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. I carried her over to the desk, not caring about the papers and files that fell to the floor as I plopped her down. Chanel quickly recovered and began reaching for the hem of my button-down white shirt, pulling it out of my pants and ripping the buttons open. I would’ve laughed at her anxiousness if it wasn’t rivaled by my own. I eagerly pulled her blouse over her head, aided by the raising of her arms. Once her shirt was discarded, I quickly did away with demi bra she wore and unbuttoned her pants.

  “Lean back,” I ordered, pushing her down by the shoulder, so her back was flat against the desk. I made quick work of stripping her of her pants and lace panties. As soon as her panties hit the floor, I spread Chanel’s legs and commenced to eating her middle as if it were Sunday dinner.

  “Goddamn,” Chanel gasped while her hips bucked.

  I gripped her at either side of her hips, pulling her into me, giving her no chance to move from my grasp as I continued to lap up all of her juices. I used my tongue to imprint my name all over that pussy once again. It’d been too fucking long since I’d been able to savor this taste and I wasn’t taking this shit lightly. Soon enough, I began feeling her legs tremble and her back arched off the desk, signaling her oncoming orgasm. To help her along, I inserted two fingers into her wetness, curling them to reach her G-spot. I felt her walls tighten around my fingers, followed by a gush of wetness on my tongue as she came. Her loud moans reminded me that my dick was nearly making a hole in my pants, pushing through, seeking its warm home.

  I stood, pulling Chanel to my mouth allowing her to taste herself on my lips. Pulling back, I turned her around and bent her over the desk. My mouth watered at the sight of her plump ass bared for only me to see and savor. I unbuttoned and pulled down my pants, and within seconds sank my rock-hard member into her warm channel. We let out a chorus of sighs and moans. I took a second to adjust to being home again.

  “Xavier, please,” Chanel begged. “I need you to move.” She tried to squirm, but that only earned her a slap on the ass. “Mmmm,” she moaned, and I finally moved, to both our relief.

  “Ah, shit,” I grunted and tightened the hold I had on her hips right before I began hammering away at her pussy. In the distance, I heard more files, pens and other shit fall from the desk, but I was too far gone to care.

  “Too...fucking...long,” I grunted each time I thrust inside her. “Throw it back, baby,” I encouraged. Chanel soon caught on to my rhythm and began throwing it back like a pro for every one of my down strokes. We were completely in sync, just like always, as if our bodies were made to be loved by one another’s. Still, needing more, I hooked my hand under her right knee and lifted it to the desk, exposing more of her to me, allowing me to sink even deeper.

  “Oh, God!” Chanel yelled at the increased intensity of this position.

  I wrapped my left arm around her upper body, pulling it to me, so her back met the front of my chest.

  “This pussy is still mine,” I whispered in her ear before biting her earlobe.

  “Mmmm,” came her response, but I took it as confirmation of my statement.

  “I…I’m…” she panted, but couldn’t manage to get out the rest before her orgasm overtook her and rained juices all over my thrusting dick.

  “Shit,” I growled as her muscles gripped the life out of my dick, causing my orgasm to crest. I tightened my hold on her and shook as my semen spurted inside of her. Tingles of pleasure started all the way from my toes only grew in intensity as they traveled up my body until it felt like they exploded out of the top of my head. When I came back to reality, I was still holding Chanel tightly, both of us now seated in the large office chair that’d been pushed aside earlier. We both panted, gasping for air and a return to our good senses.

  “I don’t understand why it’s always like this with you,” Chanel stated and sighed, breaking up the sounds of our hard breathing.

  I completely understood what she meant. Sex had always been enjoyable for me in the past. But what we did was beyond sex, beyond just making love or any of those other clichéd euphemisms used to describe it. With her, it was damn near life-altering every time. And though I’d missed much more than just the physical intimacy of this woman over the last month and a half, I couldn’t deny it was high on the list.

  I pressed a kiss to the back of her now sweaty shoulder, and I buried my face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply to get the totality of her scent, or rather, my scent mixed with hers. It was my favorite.

  “You can’t be serious,” she scoffed, and then squirmed in my lap.

  I chuckled, knowing she was referring to the way my dick jumped, coming back to life, still embedded inside her. Sniffing her had begun to get me aroused again. I’d been backed up for more than a month, and now that she was back in my arms, my body couldn’t help itself.

  “You know what type of effect you have on me,” I answered and nipped at her neck. I smiled at the soft moan she let out.

  “I wasn’t on a date,” she conceded after a few moments of silence. Her head fell back on my shoulder. “He’s a client. He’s getting a divorce, and this was the only time he could meet this week.”

  Something in my chest expanded and felt lighter at her explanation, and my arms tightened around her body. Deep down I probably knew it was a working dinner. Yes, I’d seen her laughing at his apparent jokes or flirtations, but she didn’t have that gleam in her eye the way she did when she looked at me. Her smile was courteous, but it didn’t brighten her entire face like when she smiled at me. I knew it wasn’t a date, but that didn’t mean seeing her with another man over a candlelight dinner, laughing and smiling didn’t set off my possessive streak, a streak I wasn’t even aware of until a few months ago, thanks to her.

  “Come home with me.” It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t bother waiting for a response. I leaned over, picking up a few of our discarded clothing items and helped Chanel to put on her bra. She wiggled and stood up, letting out a soft groan when I slid completely out of her.

  “Xavier...”

  Damn, the way she said my name caused tingles to shoot through my stomach.

  “You have to finish work and—”

  “And Brian can finish and close up for the night. You and I need to talk...in the morning.” I stood and leaned over her to run my tongue across her lower lip. I pulled up my pants and grabbed my ripped shirt from the floor, holding it up and staring at her. Chanel gave me a sheepish look before shrugging. I pulled her into me again, my hand squeezing her ass and pressing my hips against her abdomen so she could feel just how much I wanted her again.

  “We’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” I stared down at her kiss-swollen lips and smeared lip gloss and grinned. “Or Sunday.” Any dissent she tried to form was cut off by my lips on hers.

  Chapter Seven

  Chanel

  I have no idea how I ended up here, I thought as we passed through the gates of Xavier’s home. One minute I was having dinner with a client, detailing his divorce proceedings and the next minute, I was bent over getting deep stroked by the man I swore I was trying to avoid. Now, we were parked in his driveway as he dismounted from the driver’s side of the car and came around to open the passenger door for me. My clothing was all disheveled from rushing to put it back on in a small back office.

  Wordlessly, Xavier, held out his hand to help me out of the car. He pushed the door closed and my back against the door, lowering his head so his lips just grazed mine. That brief contact with his mouth wasn’t nearly enough, and he knew it. He brushed his lips over mine again, eliciting a small whimper from me. He was stoking a fire that hadn’t been extinguished
since we’d left his restaurant barely twenty minutes ago.

  Pulling me into him at the waist he finally covered my mouth with his, and I swore I felt the entire ground beneath me shift. I had to grip onto his shoulders just to remain upright as his tongue swirled with mine, hungrily. We reveled in each other’s tastes for a while before he pulled back and quickly grabbed my hand. Seconds later we were on the other side of the door, just inside the barely lit foyer space. Once again, Xavier’s big body was pressing my back against the door as he took my lips. I gave little protest until his head moved lower and he began sucking on the skin between my neck and shoulder.

  “I thought you said we needed to talk.” The words came out in more of a moan, but coherent enough to be understood.

  “We will…eventually.” He pulled back, and his heated gaze singed me from head to toe as it moved over me. And with that, any idea of conversation happening that night ceased, as Xavier pressed his mouth to mine and ran his hands under my shirt, cupping and squeezing my breasts. My brain short-circuited, and there was no more thinking, just feeling as we somehow made our way up to his bedroom.

  ****

  I woke up early the next morning, feeling sore but more refreshed than I’d felt in a long time. I found it odd, since we hadn’t done a whole lot of sleeping the night before. I’d maybe gotten a combined three to four hours of sleep. When Xavier had said we had lost time to make up for, he wasn’t kidding. The man spent most of the night with either his mouth, his dick or fingers in or on at least one of my orifices. I closed my eyes and inhaled, remembering the delicious memory of drifting off to sleep in his arms.

  I yawned and stretched, turning slightly to see Xavier still fast asleep. I couldn’t keep myself from staring. Even in sleep he intrigued me, and since it’d been more than a month since I was this close to him, I felt a burning need to commit this scene to memory. Without thinking, I reached up and lightly ran my finger across the outline of his lower lip and then against the tiny hairs of the beard he’d allowed to grow in. I loved this man’s face naked or with hair, but the beard did add an extra layer of manliness or something that made him even more irresistible.