Slow Release (Ebony and Ivory Book 1)

by Steele, Suzanne

  I briskly walked into the dressing room and confronted the two ladies. “Granted, I should have explained myself better, but now you know. I’ll not have Skye parading around the dressing room in front of anyone nude, and that includes the other models.” When I finished my little speech, the mood was tense, but I didn’t care. I made my point, and the mistake wouldn’t be repeated.

  I returned to the chair where I’d been sitting and went back to work on my phone. I was a bastard, and I knew it. What else was new?

  I looked up just in time to see Skye coming out of the changing room, dressed in a multi-tiered, sheer, flowing dress. I felt like someone had gut punched me when she twirled in front of me and asked me what I thought. I damn sure knew what my cock thought when it jumped in my pants, and I had to cognizantly will it flaccid.

  “Do you like it?” she asked, biting her lip.

  I crooked my finger in her direction, prompting her to bend down so no one else could hear what I said. “If you keep biting that bottom lip of yours, I’m going to take you back into that changing room and show you just how good I think you look.” She quickly turned towards the ladies and directed her question at them in an effort to escape me. “What do I do now?”

  “It’s time to get that beauty you possess on film. We want the world to see how gorgeous you are, Skye.”

  The wardrobe lady smiled as she answered her. I had to admit that I respected the woman for not taking my outburst out on Skye or holding it against her.

  I rose from the chair and escorted the ladies to the photographer.

  He nodded his head enthusiastically when he saw Skye. “I have no doubt you’re going to sell magazines, young lady.”

  I found a seat where I could watch and work at the same time. The moment the music started playing through the sound system, she came alive. It was as if she had been born for this moment. She added to the magic when she kicked out of her shoes and went into various poses like she’d been modeling for years. It didn’t matter whether it was a shot of her laughing as she twirled, holding the sides of her dress, or one of her sitting with her knees tucked into her chin, the camera loved her. I knew this to be true because I had a perfect view of the computer screen where, not too far away, the editor was busy working on the photos as they were taken. My system allowed the editor to see what the photographer was able to capture in real time, and the end result was nothing short of magical.

  This girl was born to be a star, and I knew I would have to watch over her like the treasure she was. Skye was not only going to bring out the best and worst in me, but she’d unquestionably have a profound effect on any life she touched as well. She would definitely be coveted for her beauty, and that meant I would need to be extra vigilant. Undoubtedly, she is a prize my adversaries will vie to steal from me. Anyone worth their salt in the business knew star quality when they saw it, but they wouldn’t look out for her like I would. This revelation and observing what a natural she was only solidified my need to protect her. The camera certainly loved her—that was easy to see—and if I wasn’t careful, then before it was all over, I would too.

  Skye

  I felt so alive. As I posed for the camera, all those childhood memories, twirling around in frilly dresses for my family and friends, came to the forefront of my mind. I felt vibrant, in the moment, and at my best. It was just me and the camera; no one else existed. All my hopes and dreams seemed to have manifested into the reality of this moment. I had no sense of time passing, and I was genuinely surprised when the cameraman called out, “It’s a wrap.”

  “Let’s see what magic we created together,” he stated, walking over to the computer where an editor was still hard at work. We both bent down over the desk and, with the enthusiasm of two kids with a new toy, started to go through all the photos.

  I felt more than saw Damon when he walked over to us; he had a commanding presence. Even at my height of 6’, he made me feel small next to his 6’2” athletic build. I stood up straight so I could wrap my arms around his neck and then kissed him on his cheek. “You’ve made me so happy.”

  “As you have me, beautiful.” He took my hand and kissed it. “Would you do me the honor of having lunch with me?”

  “Only if I can wear this dress.” I cocked my head and gave him a playful smile.

  “I’ll do you one better than that. You can have the dress.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You can have the whole fucking store if you want it.”

  I looked over my shoulder. “No, the dress will do for now.”

  “Your wish is my command, fair maiden.”

  “Ha, I highly doubt that, Damon D’Angelo. You don’t strike me as the type to be under any woman’s rule.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  “Okay, feed me. I am famished, and I’ll warn you now; I don’t eat like a model.”

  He whisked me away to his car, and we headed out to a private dining club where he had a membership. Though he was teasing when he called me fair maiden, he certainly did make me feel like a princess.

  Chapter Ten

  Skye

  From the moment we entered the members’ only club, we were catered to and stared at—no, make that gawked at. My mind tried to figure out whether or not it was because Damon was so powerful. Was he always stared at like that, or was it just because he was with a black woman?

  I looked around and couldn’t help but notice every eye in the place was watching us. It was obvious people recognized Damon D’Angelo. His husky whisper cut through my thoughts.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I feel awkward,” I answered honestly.

  “Why? Because you’re the most beautiful woman here?”

  “No, because everybody in here is staring at us. You don’t have any past girlfriends here I should know about, do you?”

  “Skye, we live in modern times, and my face has been splattered all over TV and magazines, not to mention the Internet. I’m certain they are well aware that you’re a new model and wondering if you’re going to be the next it girl in the industry. Having said that, you need to know I don’t give a fuck about anybody’s opinion. I couldn’t be more proud to be seen with a strong, independent woman. It’s a turn on, baby. You’re a confident, sexy woman who doesn’t take my shit, and I like that about you. To put it simply… I. Am. Smitten.”

  The pad of his thumb ran over the top of my hand as he waited for a response.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Absolutely not,” he teased, smiling with that cocky, lopsided grin of his that always seemed to melt away my insecurities and ease my apprehension.

  “Well, I’m asking anyway. Why don’t you like white women?” He leaned in so no one else would hear him when he answered.

  “Let’s get this straight right now. It isn’t that I don’t like white women; I just don’t fuck white women.”

  “You’re so brazen.” I blushed in embarrassment.

  “You haven’t seen anything until I get you in my bed.”

  “Why don’t you… well, you know?”

  “It’s how I’m wired, baby girl. I grew up going to schools that were predominantly African American. I was always the quiet, shy kid, but I knew what I liked. I remember, more than once, Jerome had to kick ass and take names to protect me. Fellow students were always trying to beat my ass because of my size. I guess being so small and timid made me a target. Anyway, back to your question, I have no problem with white women. In fact, I have some very good white friends, but when it comes to my cock, it just doesn’t get hard for Caucasian women. I’ve never fucked a white woman, and I don’t care to in the future. Like I said, it’s how I’m wired.”

  “I don’t date though.”

  “Good… because I don’t date either. Ever. And how do you even know what type of man you would date? You’ve never been with a man before, and by the time I get done with you, you’ll never want to be with anybody else.”

  “You seem pretty cocky th
ere, Don Juan.”

  “I’ll be the first one to tell you I’m an arrogant bastard. I’ve spent years studying the female anatomy, and I’m damn good at what I do, Skye.”

  “Which is precisely why I don’t think this is a good idea. You run as soon as you’re done, leaving your conquests in the dust to lick their wounds.”

  His eyes turned into the dark tempest they always did when he was about to read someone the riot act. They were piercing and intense when he got like this.

  “Let’s get one thing straight; I’ve never led a woman on, nor will I ever in the future. We’ve been over this, Skye. If they’re left licking their wounds, it’s over the fact they didn’t get their dream job. I’m nobody’s bitch, and I won’t be used by any woman. I don’t give a fuck what color she is.”

  I was relieved to see the waitress headed in our direction. I felt like I’d just been slapped in the face. This was the most intense man I’d ever met. Whether I ended up in his bed or not, one thing was for sure; I respected him. Damon D’Angelo was a man who commanded respect, and he was right. He was nobody’s bitch.

  Damon

  Though it pissed me off when she insinuated I was some heartless player, leaving countless victims in a wake of lovesick depression, I understood her reasoning. The only interaction she had to base her opinion on was the conversation she overheard in my office when she first arrived.

  “Hello Mr. D’Angelo,” the waitress’ sickeningly sweet voice grated my nerves when she delivered the food. She even bent over the table in a way that was sure to give me the best view of her ample cleavage.

  “Tracy, how nice to see you,” I answered, never taking my eyes off Skye. “I brought my girlfriend in to meet you wonderful people.” I stifled a chuckle at the way Skye was glaring at the woman. Her tone of voice only confirmed to me that she was jealous.

  “Nice to meet you,” Skye clipped out in irritation.

  The waitress barely acknowledged her when she left, muttering under her breath, “What a waste—a man that gorgeous who won’t date white women.” I made sure I chuckled loud enough so she knew I heard her.

  “You are bad, Damon.” Skye laughed.

  “Let me show you just how bad I can be.”

  “I might take you up on that one day but only if you promise not to break my fragile heart.”

  “Ha, there’s nothing fragile about you. I told you already, I’m drawn to strong women.”

  “No, you’re drawn to this beautiful dark skin of mine.”

  “That too, can I touch it?” I waggled my brows salaciously.

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Well, don’t ponder the thought too long. I’m not sure how long I can restrain my voracious appetite for you.”

  Though I was playing with her, there was an element of truth to my words. I honestly didn’t know how long my cock could take the strain of resisting. I needed to be buried deep inside her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Skye

  I gently lifted the dress that cost more than anything I’d ever owned over my head. One good thing about having extremely short hair was that it didn’t get messed up when I got dressed or, for that matter, undressed.

  I looked at the reflection of my body in the long wardrobe mirror. Though my breasts were small, they were perky with dark nipples. My waist tapered in to the size a normal model might have; it was my hips that set me apart. They gave me the perfect hourglass shape. I was fine with them, but they weren’t the hips of a white woman. I slipped my panties off and turned to look at my ass, bubbled out in perfection. There were no lumps, bumps, or cellulite. The men in my country salivated over my figure and likened me to an African American goddess. I was blessed with a voluptuous figure, but honestly, I was convinced my build would hold me back from succeeding in an industry known to cater to waif-like figures.

  I looked up to see Damon watching me, seemingly mesmerized by what he was observing. His voice came out sounding strained and agonized.

  “Please…”

  “Please what, Damon?”

  “Please let me taste you. Let me bury my tongue between your thighs.”

  He stalked over to me with his eyes pleading and his cock tenting his trousers. This man’s build and size disproved everything he told me about being small as a child. The years he devoted to working out and boxing were evident and had more than paid off. I couldn’t help but notice the hardness in his pants. It was thick, long, and looked hungry to consume me.

  “Just lie down on the bed, baby. You don’t have to do anything. I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he led me over to the bed and laid me down. His hands ran over my body as if trying to memorize every curve. Damon had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world.

  “Don’t break my heart, Damon.”

  “Not what I want to do to you, girl.”

  His lips clamped down on a nipple, and he started sucking as his tongue flicked over it. My body began doing a foreign dance beneath him as his tongue languidly worked me over. He started at my breast, moved down to my abdomen, and then finally came to a stop when he reached between my legs. He took his time, exploring my womanhood with his fingers and spreading me open. His tongue slowly lapped at my core, burying deeply within me as his lips pulled at the pearl no longer hidden in my folds. My fingers clenched at the long hair on top of his head as fervid pleas escaped my lips. Over and over, he taunted me and brought me right to the brink of climax, just to leave me hanging on the edge in an acute state of urgency, desperate for release.

  “Please, please, Damon, I’ll do anything, baby.”

  As if I uttered the magic words he was waiting to hear, he slipped a finger into my opening. Pulsing, licking, and thrusting, Damon finally gave me the orgasm he had me edging on for so long.

  “I want you, Damon. I want you to be my first.” Even as I told him, I knew he would deny me. He’d make me wait because he was concerned that I was a virgin. Though it went against all my beliefs about waiting until I married, my body seemed to have its own opinion. It was only a matter of time before I gave my innocence to this man; he already held me captive.

  Damon

  I’d walked into that room with the intention of telling her something, though I have no idea what it was now. After I saw her studying her body in the mirror, I lost the ability to think rationally and became a man with no restraint. All I knew, in that moment, was that I had to make her mine. If I couldn’t have her completely, I needed to, at the very least, pleasure her. I knew it was selfish, but if I could make her sexually attracted to me, I would have a part of her no one else had. I wanted her hungry for me. I wanted to act on the sexual chemistry we shared and show her what she was feeling was real. Most of all, I wanted her to understand there was no reason to feel ashamed for anything we might do.

  The way she was looking at me—all innocence and curiosity—was making me want to show her what words couldn’t say. Laying her down on that bed and burying my tongue into that pink pussy was all I could think about.

  I spread her open, intrigued by the contrast of her coal black skin against her bright pink opening, but nothing could have prepared me for her taste. She was the perfect mixture of tart and sweet, and I knew I would never be sated, no matter how many times I had the privilege of dining on her essence.

  I purposely tormented her and left her on the edge of ecstasy until I pulled the words I wanted to hear from her. I needed her to tell me she would do anything. I needed her to need me.

  Her screams as she pulled at my hair while climaxing were nothing compared to her voicing that she wanted me to be her first. Not only did I have every intention of being her first, but I would also make certain I was her last.

  “Skye, there is nothing I want more, but the timing isn’t right. When you lose your virginity to me, I need to know that you’re doing it because you want to, not because you feel obligated. In my mind, I’ve al
ready made you mine just by pleasing you sexually. I don’t need to take your innocence to feel that way. You’ll need to hold on to sweet memories like these for the times when I fuck you like I hate you. Believe me, those days are coming. You’re mine now, and you need to know I take that shit real serious. Don’t. Break. My. Heart!”

  “You’re so intense, Damon.”

  “Dangerously so, Skye. I’m giving you full disclosure. I’m an over the top alpha male, and I won’t hesitate to protect what’s mine. There will be no photo shoots with anyone else, and you damn sure better not give any other man your attention.”

  “Like I said,” she chuckled, “you’re so intense.”

  “You have no idea, but don’t worry, you’ll see for yourself before you know it. When the timing is right, I’ll make you completely mine. I understand how the things we’re taught to believe growing up can cause a lot of guilt, and that’s the last thing I want for you.” I got up and made my way towards the door before I did something I would regret… or, I should say, that she would regret. I turned and looked over my shoulder to speak to her one last time before I closed her door. “This isn’t about me rejecting you; it’s about respecting your beliefs. When the day comes for you to completely give yourself to me, all you’ll feel is good about it, not pressured or guilty.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The Stalker

  You’re beautiful; I’ll give you that. Unlike other people who are probably sucked into a vortex of voyeurism because of your beauty, you’re nothing but a means to an end for me. You’re a way to hurt Damon D’Angelo. That arrogant, pompous ass ruined my life. I am going to make him pay, and I’m going to use you to do it.