BWWM Romance: Crossing The Line: Interracial Romance / Wealthy Love Interest (17 page)

"Not really," he replied. He kissed the small of her back and she shivered.

"That's not fair," she said. "Stop that."

"Well, love, since you didn't cum for me, and heavens knows I tried to make it about me, who did you cum for?"

Mikki glanced over her shoulder, the cigarette balanced between her full, soft lips. Her dark eyes shot daggers through him, but Rob lay unfazed by her glare. "If I tell you it was for a woman, will you let me go?"

"No, because I figured as much." Rob sat up and massaged Mikki's shoulders. She rolled her head from one side and to the other. "She's pretty hooked on our boy Virg. I think they're a pretty cute couple, if I may say so myself. I don't think he's going anywhere anytime soon."

"Yeah," Mikki said, picking up an ashtray off the bedside table. She tipped the ash in with a flick of her teeth. "I know."

"Do you mind if I come over every once and a while and distract you from your pining?"

She stood up, pulling away from Rob's grasp. He sat there in his naked glory. Even flaccid, his wet cock laid long and thick against his thigh. He leaned back on his hands, looking up at her with unadulterated admiration. She couldn't help but wonder if Rob wasn't a little broken. The other men in her life were quick to take a hint, happy for an exit. Not this one. His piercing blue eyes seemed to look right through her. She felt just as naked under his gaze with clothing on as she did without it. She stood across the room with her arms crossed over her breasts and a cigarette clasped between her first and middle finger.

"We can never do this again," Mikki said flatly.

"Great, I'll be back tomorrow."

S
hawna stood
in her walk-in closet, torn between dressing sensibly, going for an elegant look, and dressing with Virgil in mind. The decision would define how high her heels would be, whether or not spikes would be involved, and where her dress would hit her thighs. Mikki's charity events had a mood that ranged from Renaissance Faire to a nightclub atmosphere, depending on the client. Record executives screamed nightclub, but it was still a charity event for someone's son.

The apartment was quiet. The stereo in the living room wasn't powerful enough to reach into the bedroom in the belly of the apartment, let alone into the walk-in closet on the very edge. Virgil had rehearsal, and not wanting Shawna to see anything short of perfection asked Shawna to stay away until the actual performance. As charming as his shyness was, she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of worry in her gut. It was almost as if he didn't want her there for other reasons. They had stopped talking about Janet―or rather, Virgil stopped talking about Janet, opting to dodge any mention of her. He seemed to go out of his way to distract Shawna both physically and mentally.

That was a horrible thought, and Shawna scolded herself for it. In church they had been talking about forgiveness and how to deal with trust issues. She didn't appreciate the timeliness of the sermons. It was downright rude, if you asked her. As if she needed any more unwanted advice.

Shawna tugged on a strand of loose hair. Biting her lip, she looked over her clothing selection again. Opting for four-inch, silver-studded black heels and matching accessories, all she needed was the perfect dress.

Derick had called her earlier that week, and it caught Shawna off guard. She had totally written him off after their very public fight. Mikki had given her brief snippets of what he had been up to and Shawna blew them off, telling Mikki that she didn't care and probably wouldn't care again. But it wasn't true. She couldn't abandon her feelings for Derick like that, even if he had been a jerk. He was still her childhood friend and first love. He hadn't altered his plan. Derick still planned to move into the neighborhood, but he swore to Shawna that it was to be part of the hapless, helpless sister-church and had nothing to do with her.

"I'm gonna leave you and your man alone. I just wanted to check up on you, ya know?"

"To make sure he's still here?"

"Exactly."

She knew Derick didn't give up so easily, and neither should she. Every time Virgil messed up, she wanted to run. Every time she messed up, she wanted to run. Ever since she left home―the comfort of her room, the warmth of her mother downstairs cooking, and the smell of her father's evening cigar as he poured over drafts of sermons and scripture―she wanted to go back. She longed to beg her parents to let her back in, allow her to quit school, and quit life, at least for a little while.

"What the hell am I so afraid of?" she mumbled to herself. Shawna pulled out the blue and black dress Mikki had bought her for a different charity function. It was big on her. She had lost some weight, probably from stress.

Mikki knocked on the door and when Shawna opened they both gawked at each other. "Go change," Mikki said.

"You bought two of these?" Shawna asked, noticing how much better the dress looked on Mikki's tiny frame.

"I liked the dress. Go change. I knew I should've brought you something. The nerve . . ."

"The nerve? Girl, you trippin'."

"Keep the shoes, though," Mikki said, following Shawna into the bedroom. It was the first time she had been in Shawna's apartment since she had moved in with Virgil. It was dotted with Shawna's personal style like colorful star bursts in an otherwise dark sky. She had taken Virgil for one who would like drab, dark colors. He probably would've painted the walls black if Shawna had let him. There were lovely colors on the accent walls. Dark reds and purples. Very modern goth.

Mikki had to fight not to lie down on the enormous bed with its silk comforter. It was easy to imagine it swallowing two people whole. The sheets had to be custom made. "I gotta get me one of these," she said. "How do y’all not lose each other?"

"We cuddle," Shawna said, digging through her closet. She remembered a dark red, faux-velvet dress she had bought a few months ago. It was meant for Virgil's first concert, but she had forgotten all about it. It reminded her of Jessica Rabbit. She stepped into it and shimmied it up her hips. Mikki helped zip up the back.

"Damn," Mikki said. "I need one of them, too. I ain't got the hips or boobs for it, though."

"Whatever. You look great in everything."

Mikki sighed and plopped down on the bed. "I don't want to go," she said. Shawna spun around, shocked.

"What do you mean? You love these things."

"I'm . . . nervous. Can you believe that?"

"About what?"

"I don't know . . . I guess I've never done anything quite like this before. I mean, charity functions? Yes. Reputation repair? Definitely. Concerts? Promotion? Managing a band? What the hell was I thinking?"

Shawna frowned. Mikki, the woman who exuded confidence out of every pore in her body, sat on Shawna's bed practically melting out of her glorious form. "You don't have to do it."

"Yes, I do. I'm doing it for you."

Shaking her head, Shawna sat next to her friend, pressing her shoulder into Mikki's. "Fine, then you don't have to do it for me," Shawna said. They stared out the window at the open sky. The thin clouds had picked up the fiery colors of the approaching sunset.

"Yes, I do. I have to crush that bitch and make sure she never comes back, and the only way I can do that is to make sure that these guys make it to the top."

"You're overthinking it. It's not that big a deal."

"It is to me." Mikki tucked her arm into Shawna's and rested her cheek on Shawna's bare shoulder. "She made you cry. It's either crush her by ruling her industry, or finding a good place to hide a body."

Shawna laughed and Mikki joined in. "Come on, grab a coat."

T
he Johnson Event Center
was typically reserved for monster truck rallies, concerts and sporting events, but Mikki's client went out of his way to reserve the venue for this event. Mikki had run herself ragged finding enough caterers to feed the few hundred guests. She outsourced a lot of the atmosphere to decorators and other vendors. The client wanted a rocker atmosphere and they got a rocker atmosphere. The black and purple funereal decorations reminded her a little of Rodger's sex dungeon. There was no time to think about that, though. She had to make sure everything was in the right place.

The guests wouldn't begin arriving for another hour, but Shawna and Mikki still ran through to make sure everything worked. As the Virgil led the band onto the stage for sound check, he looked out across the floor to where Shawna was standing in her skin-tight, red dress. The slit crept dangerously up her thigh, following the contour of her shapely legs. Instead of doing his usual mic check, he sang the first verse of "Shawna" and the band joined in with their instruments. Shawna felt the heat rush to her face since she had just introduced herself to a number of the vendors.

The way the event center's crew switched out the floor never ceased to amaze Shawna. It was like magic. No one would have been able to tell that a hockey rink had been there the night before, or that a basketball court would appear sometime later. She occupied herself with receiving the catering samples and listening to the mic check. Mikki looked more frazzled than she had while they were still at Shawna's apartment. Shawna had to take her by the shoulders and lead her into the bathroom to calm down before she made an ass out of herself.

"Just do like you always do. It'll be fine."

"I know. I know."

They exited the bathroom and Mikki ran smack-dab into the center of Rob's chest. "Alright there, poppet?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Let me know if you need anything, yeah?"

Shawna raised her eyebrows as Rob walked back toward the dressing area where the band was waiting for the charity function to start. He wore a diet version of his usual goth costume, settling for a silk shirt open enough to show the dark tuft of hair on his chest and tight white slacks. He had barely acknowledged Shawna as he made a beeline to Mikki. Mikki shook her head and sighed. "I shouldn't have done it," she said. "I think I'm stuck with him."

"Was it good?" Shawna asked, delighted to have the opportunity to grill her friend with the same embarrassing questions that Mikki always gotten to ask her. Mikki had never talked about her sex life. As far as Shawna had seen, she was the queen of hit 'em and quit 'em. By time the word even got back to Shawna it was old news. With Rob being so fresh―and not going anywhere soon if Mikki was managing entire band―Shawna was excited to be getting in on the ground floor.

"It was wonderful. We should have a threesome sometime," Mikki said, not missing a beat. Her natural cool demeanor had returned.

"Nah, I'm cool," Shawna said, struggling to find a good comeback.

"Let me know if you change your mind, sweetheart." Mikki pinched Shawna's ass and walked away.

"You're evil, you know that?"

"The Devil wish he was me," Mikki said over her shoulder. Virgil rounded the corner. The sound check was done. There was nothing left to do other than hang out until the event started. Mikki gave him a playful smack on the shoulder and Virgil pretended to be wounded. "Good sound check," she said.

"Y’all are too cute," Shawna said, wrapping her arms around Virgil. "I'm happy you two are getting along now."

"I'm pretty sure you can thank our mutual enemy for that," Virgil said darkly. He already had his jewel contacts and false fangs in. He looked down at her with his vampire-like glance and sniffed her hair. "You look and smell absolutely delicious."

"Thank you," Shawna said. “Don’t bite.”

Virgil steered her toward the back of the building where the locker and dressing rooms were. He liked the feel of the dress's material under his hands but he’d like her skin better. "No," Shawna whispered. "You'll mess up our makeup."

"Trust me," Virgil said, taking her by the hand. "I have enough makeup for the both of us."

Virgil led Shawna through the band's dressing room. Dressing blinds and portable vanities fashioned the members' individual sections. The lights around the mirrors reminded Shawna of every movie she had ever seen where the focus was on some hotshot acts or flash-in- the-pan starlet going through another melodramatic crisis. At the back of the long, corridor-like room was another door. It was narrower and lighter than the rest. Virgil pushed it open to reveal a tiny observation room, probably reserved for managers who wanted to see how their clients looked on TV or for security purposes. The wood panels of the walls were covered with etchings. Hearts with lovers' initials, crude graffiti, and band logos. Virgil flipped open his pocket knife and went to work on an open space. Shawna tilted her head, drinking in the image of him. Someone, most likely Erika, had taken a large curling iron to Virgil's thick head of hair. It fell in fat ringlets around his shoulders, adding to his vampiric facade. She giggled at the thought of her seventh-grade self seeing the kind of man she’d ended up with. Young Shawna would have been horrified – and probably fascinated. Now, Virgil was so familiar to her that even in his fancy dress, she saw the vulnerable, proud, loyal man she loved.

Shawna chewed on her thumbnail as she watched Virgil carve letters more beautiful than his usual chicken scratch handwriting. There were times when she wanted to offer to fill out forms for him, it was so bad. But now he made slow deliberate scars in the soft wood, careful to make sure each letter was formed fully and gracefully. Virgil finished carving their initials into the wood with a flaming heart. Shawna laughed softly to herself. It was as cheesy as it was sweet.

Virgil stuffed the pocketknife back into his pocket and wrapped his arms around Shawna's waist. He wanted to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"Our lipsticks clash," she laughed. "This is a big opportunity for you guys, Virgil. I don't want anything to be out of place."

Virgil shook his head, and pressed his rouge-stained lips against hers. His tongue darted into her mouth and she felt the sharpness of the fake fangs.

"We can't," Shawna whispered. "Not now. But I promise to make it up to you."

"If you keep the dress on, I'll leave the fangs in."