by Naomi Chase
Dre gave her a panicked look. “Yo, where’d you park?”
“Down the street.”
“Thank God!” Dre lunged from the bed and rushed around to scoop her trench coat and stilettos off the floor. Marching over to her, he grabbed her hand and hustled her across the room to a walk-in closet that was twice as large as her bedroom.
“Stay here,” he commanded, shoving her coat and shoes at her before snatching a thick bathrobe off a hanger. “And don’t make a fucking sound!”
Fiona gave a mock salute, lips twitching with laughter. “Yes, sir.”
Dre shot her a warning glare before shutting the closet’s double doors on her face.
As Fiona quietly slipped on her trench coat and high heels, she heard Dre spraying the room with air freshener.
The next sound she heard was Leah’s rubber-soled clogs slapping softly against the hardwood floor as she walked through the bedroom door.
“Hey, baby,” she greeted Dre. “I saw the light on when I pulled up. What’re you still doing awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to wait up for you.” Judging by the direction of Dre’s voice, Fiona assumed he’d gotten back into bed just in the nick of time.
There were soft kissing noises.
“How was work?” Dre asked.
“Exhausting.” Leah paused. “Have you been spraying air freshener?”
“Yeah.” Dre sounded sheepish. “I had baked beans with dinner, and you know what beans always do to me.”
Leah chuckled dryly. “Yeah, I know. For that reason, I think I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight. I have to be up early, so you can’t be keeping me awake with your noxious fumes.”
As Dre laughed, Fiona silently marveled at his cleverness. If Leah slept in another room tonight, he would have time to change the cum-stained bedsheets.
Of course he’s smart, Fiona mused. The brotha does have a PhD.
“I’ve been covered in blood all day,” Leah announced around a tired yawn, “so I’m gonna take a nice, hot shower.”
“Sounds good,” Dre murmured. “I’ll give you a massage when you come out.”
“Mmm. Just what the doctor ordered.”
“You know it.”
As soon as Leah went inside the bathroom and started the shower, Dre let Fiona out of the closet, grabbed her hand, and hustled her from the bedroom with such haste she nearly tripped over her stilettos.
When they reached the front door, she asked breathlessly, “When can we hook up again?”
“Are you crazy?” Dre whispered sharply. “This was the last fucking time!”
“You don’t mean that.” Fiona guided his hand underneath her trench coat and rubbed his fingers against her wet pussy lips. As his nostrils flared, she smiled with wicked satisfaction. “I know you still want me as much as I want you.”
“Be that as it may—”
She kissed him hard, silencing his protests. As she sucked his juicy bottom lip, he groaned softly and pushed his middle finger inside her throbbing pussy.
Fiona moaned, gyrating against his hand as he stroked her fleshy canal. “Fuck me one more time,” she whispered against his mouth, “and I promise to leave you alone.”
Dre swore gutturally and darted a glance over his shoulder. Still hearing the sound of running water, he turned back to Fiona and lifted her off the floor. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he opened his robe and thrust into her.
They gasped into each other’s mouths, her arms looping around his neck as his hands gripped her ass cheeks. As he began fucking her against the front door, it was all she could do not to scream in ecstasy. She couldn’t get enough of him. For the first time in her life, she was straight-up dick-whipped. She’d hooked up with Shane last night after class, but he was no substitute for Dre. So there was no way in hell she was leaving this nigga alone.
Two minutes of Dre pounding her pussy was all she could handle before she started creaming and coming all over his shaft. He followed seconds later, his body wracked by deep shudders as he shot and shot inside her.
His dick was still pumping when the overhead light suddenly snapped on, followed by Leah’s outraged exclamation, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?”
Dre had barely jerked out of Fiona and spun around before Leah was upon them, catching the two lovers off guard. She wore a bathrobe that matched Dre’s, and her face was contorted with fury as she attacked Dre with flying fists.
“You sneaky, cheating motherfucker!” she screamed. “How dare you bring that ghetto bitch into my house while I’m right down the hall! Are you crazy?”
“Baby, listen—” Dre began pleadingly.
“Don’t you ‘baby’ me, you lying bastard!”
Though Dre attempted to restrain Leah, she broke free of his grasp and lunged at Fiona, who lost her balance and stumbled back against the front door. Before she could recover, Leah punched her in the face and viciously grabbed a chunk of her hair.
Fiona swung blindly, landing blows on Leah’s jaw and chest before Dre dragged the skinny heffa away.
“You trifling bitch!” Leah shrieked, struggling wildly in Dre’s arms. “How dare you step foot in my house!”
Fiona smirked, ignoring her split lip. “I did a whole lot more than that, trick. Just ask your man.”
To her everlasting satisfaction, Leah promptly burst into tears.
“You bastard!” she screeched accusingly at Dre. “How could you betray me like this? What the hell were you thinking?”
Before Dre could respond, Fiona interjected smugly, “He was thinking about how pussy-whipped he’s been ever since he fucked me on Saturday night.”
As Leah’s eyes widened with wounded disbelief, Dre rounded furiously on Fiona. “GET THE FUCK OUT!”
“Well, okay, if you insist.” She smiled coyly, then turned and opened the door. Unable to resist, she glanced back and gave Dre a slow, provocative once-over. “If you want more of this sweet pussy, Daddy, you know where to find me.” As Leah lunged toward her, she winked at Dre. “See you at work tomorrow.”
She sashayed out the door seconds before it was slammed behind her. As she started down the brick walk, she could hear Leah cursing and screaming hysterically at Dre.
Fiona chuckled, but her satisfaction was short-lived.
Because she knew that she’d not only jeopardized her job at the sports agency but also probably ruined any chance she’d had of becoming Mrs. Beau Chambers.
Chapter 37
Tamia
“I can’t believe I’m in Italy.” Tamia sighed contentedly, her head nestled against Brandon’s shoulder as their gondola glided down the moonlit canals of Venice. “Someone please pinch me and tell me I’m not dreaming.”
Brandon chuckled, cuddling her closer. “You’re not dreaming, sweetheart.”
“Are you sure? Because this definitely feels like the best dream I’ve ever had.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.”
They smiled warmly at each other.
Tamia had been enthralled with Venice from the moment they’d arrived at the airport that afternoon and boarded a water taxi that ushered them into the city in the most exhilarating of welcomes. They’d disembarked from the taxi and checked into a five-star luxury hotel located in the heart of Venice. Tamia’s jaw had dropped when they entered their opulently furnished suite, which boasted glass chandeliers, gold-trimmed ceilings, marble columns and floors, and breathtaking views of the island of San Giorgio from a private terrace.
She’d nodded, smiled, and kept her composure as the English-speaking concierge offered helpful suggestions for where to eat, shop, and sightsee. But as soon as he left the room, she’d squealed excitedly and leaped into Brandon’s arms, making him laugh as she rained kisses all over his face. When he carried her over to the enormous bed, she’d tugged him down with her, and together they’d rolled around in the sumptuous silk sheets before getting naked and devouring each other.
Afterward they�
��d showered, changed, and headed out to enjoy a romantic candlelight dinner at a cozy restaurant overlooking the Grand Canal. As music played softly in the background, they sat close together at the table, sipping from the same glass of vino and feeding each other succulent forkfuls of carpaccio, spice-encrusted sea bass, and risotto with black truffles.
After dinner, they’d strolled hand in hand through the busy streets, savoring the sights and sounds of the enchanted city on water. With its beautiful architecture, winding alleys, scenic bridges, and glittering waterways, Tamia could see why Venice was considered one of the most romantic places in the world.
From the moment Brandon told her where they were going, she’d looked forward to taking a gondola ride by moonlight. Despite the crowd of spectators peering down at them from bridges, the experience was as breathtakingly romantic and enjoyable as she’d hoped.
She sighed dreamily as the gondola drifted along the canal, steered expertly by the gondolier who was traditionally garbed in a striped shirt and black pants. Other than to point out a landmark here and there, the man was silent, leaving Tamia and Brandon to their private enjoyment of the passing scenery.
As the moon spread a path of silver on the water, Tamia glanced up at the dark sky and pointed. “Look! Do you see that?”
Brandon had been nuzzling the nape of her neck. At her delighted exclamation, he followed the direction of her gaze and smiled. “It’s a full moon. Surrounded by stars.” He paused, looking at her. “Didn’t you tell me how rare that is?”
Tamia nodded quickly, pleased that he remembered the conversation they’d had weeks ago.
“So that just confirms it.”
“Confirms what?”
His smile softened. “How special tonight is.”
Tamia’s heart melted. “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” she whispered.
As they stared at each other, Brandon leaned close and kissed her. Gently at first, then with growing hunger, his tongue stroking hers until her nipples hardened and her clit throbbed.
As he began easing his hand underneath her cashmere sweater dress, she whispered against his mouth, “What’re you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He caressed her bare thigh, sending delicious shivers to her pussy.
Pausing to suck his tongue, she murmured, “Have you forgotten that we’re not alone?”
“Dude won’t care. He’s Italian.”
Tamia grinned. “Meaning?”
“Italians perfected the art of PDA. But if it makes you feel better”—Brandon’s hand crept higher—“I’ll pay him to look the other way.”
“I don’t think so.” Chuckling, Tamia pulled away and discreetly rearranged her dress over her legs. When she and Brandon glanced back at the gondolier, the man grinned and gave Brandon a conspiratorial nod of approval.
Brandon winked at Tamia. “What’d I tell you? That’s amore, bella signorina.”
She just laughed.
At the end of their romantic ride, Brandon generously tipped the gondolier, who kissed Tamia’s hand and invited them to come back for another tour before they returned home.
Even though it was late, and they’d already had a long day, Tamia and Brandon didn’t immediately head back to the hotel. Venice was the kind of city that lured you to explore, to soak up all it had to offer. So they continued their leisurely stroll, losing themselves in the winding twists and turns of narrow alleys and side streets. Eventually they came upon a small piazza where the crowds were thinner, and secluded corners awaited them at every turn.
Holding Tamia’s hand, Brandon guided her down an alleyway bathed in soft moonlight. Her pulse raced as he backed her against the brick wall, braced his hands on either side of her head, and slanted his mouth over hers.
She moaned with pleasure, aroused by the feel of his hard dick pressed against her stomach. As their tongues mated, she hooked her leg around his calf and rubbed her pussy against his thigh, making him shudder and groan.
“I’ve been dying to get inside you again all night,” he confessed against her mouth.
“You know we’re still out in public, right?”
“Makes no damn difference.”
She smiled. “You’re crazy,” she whispered.
“Crazy about you,” he whispered back.
Her heart soared.
As the kiss intensified, Brandon lifted Tamia off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he quickly unzipped his pants and pushed aside her lace thong. Moments later she cried out as he impaled her against the wall.
With his feet braced apart on the ground, he began thrusting into her. Tamia closed her eyes and moaned as she grabbed his butt, feeling the muscles clench and unclench as he plunged inside her. She heard voices and laughter at the entrance to the alley as people wandered by. The threat of getting caught only heightened her pleasure and excitement, and she sensed that it was the same for Brandon as he drove into her pussy with deep, relentless strokes.
They exploded together, mouths locked as they swallowed each other’s screams of ecstasy.
After several moments of shuddering and panting heavily, they looked at each other and chorused, “Round two. Hotel.”
They made it back in record time, rushing up to their suite as if the streets had suddenly been placed under a mandatory evacuation order.
Tamia smiled naughtily as Brandon kicked the door shut behind them, then began stalking her, step for step, across the room. His eyes glittered with fierce arousal as she deliberately pushed the long sleeves of her dress down her arms, then peeled the soft material past her breasts and stomach and over her hips. As the dress slid to the floor, she unhooked her bra and let it drop, then slowly rolled her thigh-high stockings and thong off her legs.
Brandon’s nostrils flared as his hungry gaze devoured her voluptuous nudity.
Never taking his eyes off her, he tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside, then toed off his boots and socks. With his chest and feet bared, he looked so damn sexy and primal that Tamia’s pussy dripped.
As he reached her, she sank to her knees before him and yanked down his pants and dark briefs. As his erection bobbed free, she took him down her throat and back up again, a move reminiscent of a fire-eater swallowing flames.
Brandon swore hoarsely, shoving his hands into her hair as she repeated the erotic motion, this time hollowing out her cheeks as she suctioned him deep.
“Fuck!” he hissed, his hips thrusting forward as his shaft thickened inside her mouth.
She sucked him voraciously, swirling her tongue around his length as her fingers kneaded his heavy balls.
He groaned huskily. “Oh, shit, I’m about to—”
“Feed me,” she whispered encouragingly as he exploded inside her mouth, his head flung back, his hands clenched tightly in her hair.
She drank him dry, savoring his creamy taste and texture. When she’d swallowed the last drop of his cum, Brandon gave another deep shudder and slowly opened his eyes to stare down at her.
“Damn, woman,” he growled softly. “You and that mouth are gonna be the death of me.”
Tamia smiled seductively. “Nah, baby,” she purred. “You can’t die—I’m not finished with you yet.”
His eyes glinted. “Good. ’Cause I’m just getting started with you.”
He picked her up, carried her over to the bed, and set her down near the edge. Holding her gaze, he parted her legs and knelt between them, then stroked his tongue over her clit.
Tamia arched off the bed with a choked cry of pleasure.
Her hips writhed against Brandon’s face as he licked her labia, then sucked the swollen flesh into his mouth. By the time he curled his tongue into her pussy, she was coming and calling out his name.
She’d barely caught her breath before he flipped her over, hauled her onto all fours, and entered her from behind. She cried out sharply as he filled her, stretching her walls. She looked over her shoulder, meeting his ravenous gaze as he started pumping in
to her with long, thick strokes.
“Brandon,” she moaned in octaves as his hands stroked her bouncing breasts. “Ohhh, baby ... you feel so damn good!”
“So do you, baby. Fuck.”
She whimpered as he slapped her round butt cheek, making the flesh jiggle beneath his hand. When he slapped her again, she nearly came.
Guttural cries and moans blended with the sound of Brandon’s pelvis slapping Tamia’s backside as he rammed into her. The pleasure was blisteringly intense, and though she didn’t speak Italian, she was pretty sure she was screaming in a foreign language as her orgasm tore through her.
Brandon followed moments later, shouting her name as he pulled out and splashed off on her back and ass.
Before the night ended, they’d made love all over the suite and outside on the terrace, taking each other to indescribable heights of ecstasy. Afterward, thoroughly spent, they collapsed upon the bed, whispered tender endearments to each other, and fell into a deep, satiated slumber.
For the next seven days, Tamia and Brandon had not a care in the world.
They dined on delicious cuisine and drank fine wine while enjoying glorious sunsets. They made love like there was no tomorrow. Night and day, day and night. They went sightseeing, immersing themselves in the history and charm of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, the Basilica, and the Piazza San Marco, which was populated with the shops of Italy’s most famous designers and jewelers. Brandon spent lavishly on Tamia, buying her shoes, handbags, and clothes by Dolce & Gabbana, Prada, and Versace, as well as a Cartier diamond bracelet. They explored ancient marble churches and palaces that graced the banks of the Grand Canal. They befriended locals who directed them to the best restaurants and markets that were off the main tourist drag.
One evening they danced until sunrise at an underground club, where they smoked the best weed they’d ever had. Afterward they returned to the hotel and fucked each other senseless before pigging out on room service.
Wanting to explore Venice’s scenic countryside, they spent one night at a cozy bed and breakfast, where they celebrated Thanksgiving with a romantic picnic the next day. Afterward, as they snuggled together on the lush hillside while gazing up at the vivid blue sky, Tamia asked thoughtfully, “Do you believe in the power of dreams?”
