AFRICAN AMERICAN ROMANCE: A Thug to Remember (Hood Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (African American Urban Contemporary Short Stories) (17 page)

She took a long breath in and held it.  As she exhaled slowly, she slipped one hand between their bodies and squeezed his throbbing groin.  He groaned and slipped his hands under her skirt to dig his nails into her backside.  She squirmed harder against him as he slid his bared teeth against her shoulder.

He released her bottom and fumbled briefly with the zipper on her skirt.  It finally gave way and he added it to the growing pile of discarded clothing on the floor.  She sat on his lap again in nothing but her white satin panties and he groaned again.

“Goddamn, Marie, if I had known…”

“Known what?  Done what?”

“That this was hiding under all of that baggy clothing in high school.  I would not have pushed you off so much,” he laughed at himself and his own stupidity.

“Oh…I did want you back then,” she admitted.

“I know, I’m sorry.  I might have been able to save you,” he said softly.

Marie leaned in and kissed him again, pulling him against her bare skin and letting the warmth of his body fan the flames of her desire.  He pushed her hips up with his hands and body and wriggled out of his jeans from underneath her.  As she settled back down on his lap, she felt the hardness of his need pressing up against the wetness of hers.

“No going back now, hmm?” she murmured.

He looked into her eyes hard, the hazel color swirling with brown and green and blue as she wrestled with her desire and her guilt.  Slate wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her in the air as he stood up.

“We’re not doing this on the couch like lust-crazed teenagers,” he muttered.

She twined her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he carried her to the bedroom.  Her lips sought his urgently, parting so that her tongue could tickle his lips. He laid her on the bed and let his eyes rove over her nearly naked body before he climbed on top of her.

His mouth betrayed his need for her.  He so badly wanted to take it slow and remind her everything that sex was supposed to be about, but his lips and tongue and teeth wanted to consume all of her simultaneously.  He kissed and nibbled his way down the valley of her full breasts, across her trim belly, and dipped teasingly under the waistband of her panties.  She squirmed and gasped at every touch, terrified of breaking the moment but desperately wishing he would take her completely.

He hooked his thumbs under her panties and slid them down her legs, slowly revealing her smooth mound and then her slippery wet folds.  He groaned deeply in his chest and started kissing the back of her knees.  She giggled and twitched, but her giggles dissolved into moans as his mouth moved upwards towards the center of her yearnings.

He exhaled softly, letting his warm breath caress her pussy and her thighs parted as far as she could get them.  He placed one soft kiss on the tight folds and she held her breath.  As his tongue parted her and tasted everything she had to offer, she groaned and dug her nails into the bed.

Slate’s need for her won out over his desire to take it slow, and he traced his tongue over every crease and fold and hidden secret.  The torment was almost more than she could bear after so long but when he finally grazed her aching clit, she nearly screamed.  He flicked and curled his tongue around her until she was panting and squirming. 

Marie could feel years of ignored needs and neglected desires surging through her body, culminating at the tiny spot where his tongue met her body.  Within minutes, the rolling waves crested and she screamed into the dark bedroom as she bucked against the assault of his lust.

As her shudders slowed, Slate yanked his boxers off and crawled up on top of her heated body, gleaming with a glow of pleasure.  His fingers slid easily around inside her dripping wetness and within moments he was sheathed and pressed up against her pussy.  Marie wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his ass as though spurring him to enter her.  He slid himself inside to the hilt and groaned as her heat enveloped and caressed him.

He paused, letting her body adjust to his size.  She writhed underneath him, silently willing him to thrust into her despite his width stretching her more than she had ever felt.  As her muscles clenched down on him, his hips took on a life of their own and he slowly pulled out only to drive himself back inside.

Marie gasped and squeezed her thighs around his waist.  Her hands wandered over his chest and her nails raked down his flexing stomach.  Over and over he drove himself into her, her hips rising with his thrusts.  The waves that surged through her body earlier had returned and they threatened to wipe her out completely this time.

“Slate,” she hissed.  “Make me cum…”

He growled deep in his throat and thrust faster and harder, feeling his own release starting to tingle at the base of his cock.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned.

He grunted and shoved himself inside her pussy hard, feeling his climax overtake him and his balls empty into her body.  She inhaled sharply and then whimpered as the waves swept the reason from her mind through her orgasm.  He collapsed on top of her, panting in her ear.

“Oh, yes,” he breathed.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him down against her.

“I forgot it could be like that.  What am I saying?  It’s never been like that.”  Her words tickled his ear and stroked his heart.

She felt the sleepiness and exhaustion drift into her body and she let it flow until all thoughts of the bruises and the cuts and the fear had seeped out into nothingness.

Several months later, Marie rolled over and smiled down at Slate’s sleeping face.  Chris was a distant nightmare and Slate’s buddies had made sure that Chris understood it was over.  Apparently the duration of the hospital stay had not been too long for him, but it had been just long enough for him to get the picture.

Marie eased herself out of Slate’s bed and jumped into the shower.  She had to meet the moving van at the storage unit in order to get her new apartment ready for living.  The cool water soothed her skin and she ran her fingers lightly over the dark pink marks on her skin.  Apparently while she had been straddling Slate’s throbbing cock the night before, he had raked his nails down her stomach.  She grinned as the lines reminded her of the screaming orgasms he had given her.

She was still amazed that after all this time, the feelings she had hoped to one day give Howard had blended so effortlessly into the relationship she had developed with Slate.  Despite the shaved scalp and leather clothing and multiple tattoos, he was actually still the same sweet soul she had known.  It certainly had taught her a lesson in judging books by their covers.

Even the people at work had commented on the change in her.  Susan, the receptionist at work, just told her the other day that she was walking taller and that she had a beautiful smile.  She had always been good at her job, but she had never imagined that a happy personal life could have even improved her work product.  And while she still enjoyed her solitary lunches in the park with her books, she was less and less opposed to the occasional lunch invite from her colleagues.

As she mused about her life, she felt a cool breeze over her backside.  She peeked over her shoulder and leered as a naked Slate joined her in the shower.

“Good morning sexy,” she purred.

“Good morning yourself.”

Slate sidled up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his hands rest gently against her belly.

“You sure you don’t want to just move in here with me?” he offered for the millionth time.

“Yes baby, I’m sure.  I just need to be on my own for a little while.  You said you understood.”

“I do.  I do understand.  That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

She smiled and wriggled her ass against him.

He swatted her firmly, “Stop that or you’ll miss the moving van.”

She squirmed again and he pulled her backwards against his awakening cock.

“Marie, you drive me crazy,” he whispered in her ear.

She giggled and turned to kiss him deeply.  His hands roamed over her wet skin and she contemplated surrendering to him as she felt him harden further.  She slid one of her hands down her own stomach, gathering soap suds, and slid the lather over his cock.  He groaned against her neck and thrust himself forward through the closed fist of her fingers.  She slid her hand up and down his shaft firmly but slowly.  Every time he tried to thrust faster, she pulled back.  When he stopped pushing his hips against her hand, she closed in on him again. 

Her other hand reached down to gently tickle and massage his balls as he braced himself against the wall.  Her fingers teased every sensitive ridge and vein, slowly drawing his desire up into need.  She had quickly learned everything that would get him hard and quaking and ready for release.  He had even gently guided her through receiving pleasure.

He leaned forward to sink his teeth into her neck.  “Dammit woman,” he groaned.

She grinned up at him and sped up her strokes but just when he thought he would lose control, she slowed back down and he groaned painfully.  She baited him, slow then fast then back to slow until his knees almost buckled and he was panting for relief.  He was so close that his balls ached and his cock throbbed at even just the touch of the shower spray.

With one final motion, a move she had perfected in the last few months, of stroking and twisting simultaneously, he grunted her name and sprayed his seed onto her stomach.  He took the shower poof from her and finished washing her down, making sure to linger in the each of the areas that would have her imagining his hands and mouth all day.  Her nipples stiffened as he pinched them and her clit ached when he rubbed it.  She felt her own slipperiness combining with the soap and was sorely tempted to postpone the move for another day.

Just when she was about to give in to the temptation, he stopped washing her and rinsed her skin with an evil grin.

“Just making sure you’ll be thinking of me…”

“You are evil,” she whispered with a grin.  “And I love it.”

She hopped out of the shower to dry off.  She threw her long blonde hair into a bobbing ponytail, and tossed on shorts and a tee shirt, and kissed him deeply as she headed out the door.

Marie met the moving van at the storage unit and sighed deeply as she flung open the garage style door.  All of her earthly belongings had been stored here since she moved out of the house and filed for divorce.  It really was not much in the material sense of the word, but it was all she had been interested in taking with her.  Her book collection was first and foremost, followed by a few family items and some basic furniture.  The moving men loaded the items and boxes quickly and they were on their way.

She had been temporarily staying with Slate but knew that she did not want to rush into anything, and was excited to be living on her own for a while.

After the moving van had emptied her belongings into the cute one bedroom apartment, she flopped down on the couch and surveyed her new home. It represented everything that she would have in her new life.  It was in obvious disarray but she already felt free.  This place was already more of a home than her old house had ever felt.

When she had ridden off with Slate that day a few months ago, before she even realized who he was, something in her had clicked.  She still did not know if it clicked on or off, but that was part of the fun of figuring it out.  She did not recognize it at the time, but there had been no returning to Chris after that.  Slate had not motivated her to leave her husband; he simply showed her that there were other options in life.  She still did not know if Slate was her forever guy, but he was certainly her wakeup call.

She was looking forward to cooking for Slate in her new apartment and having him spend the night, to waking up to those fluffy delicious pancakes of his and eating them naked in bed with him.  She laughed to herself at the thought of those prim and proper lawyers from work seeing her pull up on the motorcycle for work someday.  When she had mentioned Slate to Susan, the young receptionist had even given her a high five.

She grinned to herself, and sliced open the first box.  She was most looking forward to this moment, to putting that fabulous book collection of hers on display.

THE END

The Renegade’s Mail Order Bride

Sally’s hand was visibly shaking as she put her wine glass down. “You did what?!” Abigail, her best friend, just kept on staring at the crisp white linen that covered the table. Sally took a huge gulp of red wine and this time slammed it back onto the table. She sighed and leaned forward. “I think you should start at the beginning.”

Abigail looked up at her. “Sally, you’re not just best friend, you’re the only friend that I have left. I have made a difficult choice and I’m going through with it.”

Their empty plates were removed by the waiter and Sally asked for another bottle of wine. Sally took Abigail’s hand. “Abby, you’re not an impulsive person, why are you jumping into this decision?”

“Sally, can you remember the Christmas party we had at the house three years ago?”

“Of course I can, there were over two hundred people there. Why do you ask?”

“Because, apart from you, not a single person attending that party wants to know me anymore. I need a clean break and I need to get out of London or I’ll go insane.”

Sally refilled their glasses. “So, let me get this straight. You sold yourself to a rich American and you’re going to marry him so that he can inherit his family’s fortune. Then you’re going to divorce him, come back to London and start your own business with the money that he gives you?”

A tear ran down Abigail’s cheek, “You make it sound so simple, but you know what I’ve been going through since the accident.”

Two years ago Abigail lost her family in a storm when their yacht capsized. She was the only survivor. They found the bodies of her older brother and mother, but her father and younger sister was taken by the sea.

Sally swirled her wine. “There must be another way, Abby. Have you tried…?”

Abigail slapped her hand on the table. “I’ve tried everything, Sal! You of all people should know. I’m alone. I’m broke, and I desperately need a fresh start.”

“I get that Abby, I really do, but this is extreme even for you! Anyway, who is this man? How did you meet? What about your house, your furniture and stuff?”

Abigail smiled. “You were always so practical, Sal. I sold the house yesterday. I kept a few antiques that belonged to my grandfather and they are in storage. You may have my clothes, handbags and shoes. I also need you to keep my photo albums safe. There is also…”

“Wait just a damn minute, Abby.” Sally drained her glass and filled it again. “When are you leaving?”

Abigail’s eyes watered again. “Tomorrow morning. The wedding is in two weeks.”

“So, Abby, this meal is to say goodbye?”

“No Sal, it’s just an ‘until I get back’ meal, OK?”

Both of them sat in silence drinking the last of the wine. They had known each other since they were six, and over the last twenty-two years became used to not speaking in words. Sal asked for the bill and paid using cash. “Can I stay with you in the hotel tonight?”

“I would love that,” Abigail smiled, “but first we need to get all my stuff to your house.

An hour later they left Sally’s house and went to the hotel. They were lying on the bed when Sally broke the silence. “You never told me about him, or how you met.”

Abigail sighed. “His name is Clayton Wright. The
solicitor
that handled my estate knows him. Apparently they met at a Texan university as students. He just tuned twenty-seve, so he is a year younger than me. The lawyer brokered the deal and I’ll marry him so that he can inherit the farm and the money that his grandfather left him.”

Sally burst out laughing. Abigail frowned at her. “What is so funny?”

“What are you going to do on a farm in the middle of nowhere? Feed the chickens? Get up at four in the morning to bake bread?”

Abigail smiled. “I have not really worried about it. I know he has plenty of horses, so I suppose I’ll ride a lot.”

“Why you Abigail? Why can’t he find a wife there?”

“I really don’t know,” Abigail replied. “He is a handsome man…”

Sally continued to laugh. “Can you imagine your fair skin in that hot Texan sun? You’ll look like a tomato in two days and a prune in a week!”

They both laughed and Abigail made a mental note to get more sunscreen. They spoke late into the night, retelling stories of both the good and the trying times. They both knew that they will miss each other, but neither had the heart to say it out loud. In the small hours of the morning they fell asleep next to each other.

The wakeup call came at six in the morning. Sally went for a shower while Abigail packed the last of her clothes. An hour later they left the hotel and drove to the airport. “We’re not going to cry,” said Sally, “this is not goodbye.”

“Damn you Sal,” said Abigail as tears ran down her cheeks. They returned the rental car and booked in her baggage.

They had an hour to kill before the flight and went to a small coffee shop to get some tea. “I think I’ll miss drinking tea,” Abigail said.

“I’m sure they have tea in America!” Sally smiled. “Not sure about Texas, but if you need some, just phone me and I’ll send it over.”

“I’ll phone you often, Sal, I promise.”

The boarding call interrupted their tea and Sal got up. Abigail tried to get her hand luggage ready when Sal pulled her to her feet and gave her a big hug. “I’ll miss you my friend…”

Abigail untangled herself from the embrace and mouthed the words, “I’ll miss you, too.” Tears were blurring her way as she left the familiar and embarked on a new journey.

She kept telling herself that everything will be OK. If only she could really convince herself…

The flight from Heathrow to Houston was uneventful but tiring. The plane landed just after noon local time. Abigail enjoyed a meal in the hotel room and went to bed early. Just after seven in the morning she took the hotel shuttle back to the airport to fly to Lubbock.

There were only two other passengers on the small plane and the flight was bumpy. Abigail noticed that the scene below became more arid and wild with every passing minute. Large green circles and a patchwork quilt delineated farms as far as the eye could see. Abigail had just started falling asleep when the plane started its decent.

The terminal building was a lot bigger than she imagined. It was too hot for her and she changed into a floral summer dress. She opened a printed version of an email that Clayton sent. She searched for the restaurant name and found it. A friendly airhostess pointed her in the right direction and she pushed her overladen trolley to the restaurant.

She found a quiet corner and ordered a cup of tea. Although she was surrounded by people and a lot of noise, she had never felt this alone before. She was thinking of Sal when an old black man in a faded suit approached her. “Are you Miss Abigail?”

She looked into his friendly eyes and got up. “Yes, sir. That would be me.”

“Oooh, please don’t call me ‘sir,’ Miss. I’m Simon and I’ll drive you to the ranch.” She rummaged through her purse to pay for the tea when he stopped her. “Please Miss, finish your tea. I’ll pay the bill and when you’re ready, we can leave.”

He turned around and settled the bill. Abigail had really hoped that Clayton would be there to meet her and she finished her tea with a lump in throat. Simon was standing quietly at her trolley when she left the table. With a nod and a wink he started pushing the trolley to the parking lot.

Simon opened the door for her, and for a moment she thought that he wanted her to drive. She smiled when she saw that the steering wheel was on the ‘wrong’ side of the car and hopped in before Simon could see her blush.

Before they even left the airport Abigail started to ask, “So, Simon, who are you?”

“Me, Miss? I’m Simon. I’m married to Betty and we have been with the Wrights all our lives. Just like our parents, and our grandparents. My boy Eli is now also working for Mister Clayton.”

She saw how proud he was of these simple facts. “So, Simon, what exactly are you doing for the Wrights?”

“Everything.”

It was such a simple statement of fact, but it left so many questions in her mind. She tried another approach. “Tell me about the farm, Simon.”

Simon smiled at her. “It is not a farm, Miss Abigail. It’s a ranch. We are in cotton country, but the Wrights have horses and sheep. We are ranchers, not farmers.”

Abigail realized that she has so much to learn. “So do you not grow any crops?”

“Of course we do, Miss. We need to feed the sheep and horses.”

Abigail laughed at Simon. “So you do farm on the ranch!”

Simon knew that she was taunting him. He cleared his throat theatrically. “Suppose you’re right there, Miss. However we are ranchers on a ranch, and the only one in the area,” he stated with pride.

“How far is it to the ranch, Simon?”

“Just over two hundred miles, miss Abigail. We’ll go through Plainview, Kress, Tulia and Happy. I think we’ll have to stop for lunch in Canyon. Then it’s just a short hop to Vega and Adrian. Then not far to the ranch.”

These names had no meaning to Abigail. It sounded far, so she just settled in as comfortable as possible. She must have dozed off, because Simon gently shook her awake as they entered a town called Canyon.

Abigail was hungry and very thirsty. “Simon, can we get some take-away food and eat in the car? We can stretch our legs afterwards. I just don’t feel like sitting in a restaurant now.”

“Yes, Miss Abigail, I know just the place.”

After lunch they started on the last stretch to the Ranch. Abigail found that she enjoyed the open spaces and hot air.

It was a twenty minute drive from the ranch gates to reach the main compound. Abigail could not believe the size or scale of the place. It looked like a small town. Behind all the little houses and sprawling buildings, a majestic house rose above it all. They crossed a small stream and wended their way up a hill to the main house.

Simon could not help himself and blew the horn all the way up to the house. By the time they got there quite a few people lined the stairs to welcome her. Her eyes fell on Clayton as he opened the door for her. She was quite surprised to see that he was a lot bigger than she thought. Just goes to show that talking over the Internet can be misleading.

He gave her a brief but awkward hug. “Welcome to the ranch, Abigail.”

She did not know what to do, so she gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Clayton. I’m glad to finally be here.”

He offered her his arm and escorted her into the cool of the house. Abigail saw that Simon was getting her luggage and she allowed Clayton to steer her through his home. He stopped on a large deck at the back. A huge sparking blue pool dominated the scene as he led her to a small table laden with drinks and snacks.

“How was the trip Abigail? I was thinking about you the whole time.”

She accepted a tall glass with an amber colored liquid. Iced Tea! She took a long sip. “No problems Clayton, I’m just tired.” She drained the glass and put it down on the table.

“And thirsty!” he laughed. “Please sit down.”

“Is it OK if I stand? I have been sitting in the car all the way here and my back is killing me.”

Clayton blushed. “Of course! Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.” He poured her another iced tea. She kicked of her shoes and walked in the garden bare foot. He caught up with her, “Here’s your tea.”

“Thanks. Wow, this place is huge and this garden is beautiful!”

Clayton watched her taking in the scenery. He admired the way she moved. She turned to ask him something, but caught him staring. “Penny for your thoughts?”

He blushed. She saved him any embarrassment, “Clayton, I really need the bathroom.”

“Oh, of course. This way.”

They went back into the house and a rotund black woman was dusting books on a shelf. Clayton walked towards her. “Ma Betty, please take Miss Abigail to her room. I’ll wait on the deck.”

“Hello Ma Betty. I’m Abigail.”

“It is just Betty, Miss Abigail, just Betty. Come. Your room is upstairs.”

Abigail dashed for the en suite bathroom without really looking at the room. Only when she returned did she really comprehend the size of the room. Two young girls were unpacking her suitcases and sorting out all her things. She thought it an intrusion, but the stern look from Betty made her swallow any comment.

“Betty, are you married to Simon?”

“Yes, Miss Abigail. Come back downstairs and let the kids sort out your room. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.” She left the room without looking back.

At the bottom of the stairs Betty picked up her rag and started dusting again.

Abigail did not know what she could have done to upset Betty but she could feel the tension between them. “Betty, thank you for taking me upstairs.”

She tuned to walk back to the deck, but turned around. “Oh, and Betty, thank you for sorting out my room and for the dinner that you have prepared.”

Betty stopped dusting. She looked at Abigail with tears in her eyes and just nodded before leaving the room.

Abigail saw Clayton sitting at the small table with the drinks and snacks. He got up when she approached. “Hi Abigail. Please help yourself. Can I get you another iced tea, or would you like something else?”