The Cowboy's Role Model: Billionaire Interracial BWWM Romance (Contemporary African American Western Romance) (3 page)

              Everything happened so fast and Willard had hoped to make an ultimate confession to Kimberly without hurting her feelings. He had returned with a sagging face, not having to tell her about Joan, his old mistress who'd preferred the street than stay in his house and perhaps, join him in controlling his growing empire. Once he left that night, he had hoped to end whatever relationship he'd groomed with Joan but on reaching at his home, Joan had been waiting in his bedroom. Her silky blond hair had spread through the upper section of the bed while she focused on squashing her breasts and caressing her pussy over her stringed pant. "What the hell are you doing here?"

              "Don't tell me you won't be needing an after party massage baby," she said. He felt compelled to her, as it could have been disastrous to have her tarnish his reputation through the media and newspapers.

              "I though we talked about this Joan."

              I don't like your attitude but I will give that a pass baby, come on," she softened, luring him to join her in bed and spreading her sparkling thighs across the bed for him to start the show.

              "How much do you want this time around?" Willard asked.

              "By how much I suppose you mean how much sex?" She jested.

              "No, it's not funny and--,"

              "Maybe I should go and then we will see who hates the press more than the president." She protested.

              "I don't see you in weeks and the first person I see at my office is you, what do you want Joan?" He sounded bitter at her presence had had thrown those bewildering thoughts of their licentious past.

              "I don't need to remind you of how little treaty Willard," she warned.

Willard had brought her to his home one faithful night after the club. The influence on alcohol had blinded him into know what he was u against. Their little tiff was resolve in an unlikely manner. She wanted to make love and Willard needed to sleep. "Don't tell me you will be working tomorrow."

              "Of course I will," Willard protested. "Look, I don't need you showing your face every now and then demanding for money simply because you think I can’t stand the humiliation,” he added.

“You’ll have to excuse my slack-jawed gaze but I will pretend we didn’t have this conversation. I will just pretend you didn’t’ make mention of that at all.” Said Joan. She had placed Willard in a tight corner and when she started smoothing his soft beards, Willard had to submit, having in mind that whatever was transpiring between them had ended up killing themselves.

              He started with her pant, sucking the bushy surface of her belly down to the level of her pubis. He didn’t feel is erection as it was Joan. They’d met at a popular club a few meters from Willard’s house. She had played the best whore of the club that night and when all her attempts had led to Willard bringing her to his house, she started by letting him know how she did what she did to earn a living.

              He’d felt sorry over her predicament and had given her enough money to set up a business that would keep her off the street. Ti his surprise, Joan had sent photographs of their lovemaking. She started making one demand to the next, just so she could make an extra cash when the nights were rough. It had been his worse night mares and once she started getting the money she demanded, greed came in and she was demanding more than she could contain.

              She had passed by his office that week and made a five thousand dollar request. The money was never available and she had started threatening to tell the press of his licentious habits. On a second thought, Willard had preferred to keep his affairs secret and wouldn’t want to involve the press or have his name on the morning papers for having sex with a whore in his house for as cheap as $300. The thought of her threat buzzed vigorously in his head and he was ready to comply.

              He kissed the flabby vent between her thighs and then went up with his lips on hers. The moment lacked the passion he’d gotten with Kimberly and when he was done licking and touching every angle on her body by her command, he fell on ones side and declared he was tired from the daily arrangements.

              “If this doesn’t go down well for the both f us, I’m afraid your interests would be shaken.” Joan said. She waited for him to act but the night stayed silent until the sun came up early the following morning. She had set out fixing something in the kitchen when a ding buzzed from the main door. Before she could reach the front, Willard was already standing with Kimberly. When she looked through the little space between Willard and the door, Kimberly’s face came to her mind.

              “The black woman at his office,” she muttered and came right to the front, exuding complete possession. “Who’s this?” she asked.

              “Why don’t you go back to the kitchen and I will be right with you,” Willard said. Kimberly had maintained a smile on her face from the time the door forked open to the time Joan came by.

              “I was leaving,” she said coarsely, not having to greet Kimberly, she walked past the both of them and headed straight to the gate and in no time, she was out of the courtyard.

              “Is that your wife?” Kimberly asked.

              “It’s an old acquaintance,” Willard responded. The brown flakes that brightened his eyes seemed to have concealed the so many things he’d wished to tell her but for the sake of love and the peace they had found, he let her in and played a casual smile as to dismiss all talks on Joan’s behalf.

              “It’s a lovely house,” said Kimberly.

              “It will only be a house if there were no habitants to make it warm,” he said, darting towards the bar and pouring wine in two glasses. He could read her expression from the looks on her face but he’d preferred to keep a plane conscience all the same. Perhaps she came to say how sorry she was for what happened the previous night. Despite his ability to read her, he was unable to tell her exact feeling as to the impression she had over Joan.

              “I came to say--,”

              Willard placed a hand over her lips and then fed her with the drink as he stared into her eyes. It was the moment he’d cherished but right before they kissed, the door slammed open and there was Joan, raging and cursing as she approached them at the center of the vast living room.

              “Joan!” Willard yelled, lifting a hand to shot her mouth with a spank.

              “Oh, now you want to hit me, after bringing this slot to our…”She turned and examined Kimberly for a moment. She was perfect even in her shiny dark skim. “Maybe I should start reminding you of your rightful position.”

              “Booth,” Kimberly called out. “What is going on?”

              “Look here baby girl, you’re going to carry your sorry black ass out of here before I change my mind and do something stupid,” Joan brooded.

              “Willard, why don’t you want to talk to me?” Kimberly bleated, looking into his eyes and he still had nothing to say. She waited to see if he could at least say he was sorry for everything but Willard maintained his gaze on the floor. There was nothing he could do. He hated unpleasant scenarios and what Joan was doing went straight to his heart, shredding him apart.

              The life with fame always came with such consequences. Men always had a hard time making the rightful choices and it was harder for them to expose their slightest secrets. He wanted to hold her back but he preferred to let her go until his psychotic bitch had left the house. He stayed quiet, watching Joan babble and rant all over the house. Just what he hated the most. If he called the police to come and take her out, it would call for public concern.

              “Sometimes, you should try and pretend to be educated,” he said simply and walked away.

              “Come back here when I’m talking to you.” Joan squirmed the more. Willard didn’t have time for her folly that early morning. He preferred to go inside his private office and try Kimberly’s line. The phone kept referring him to the answering machine each time he trued the line. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he would put up as excuse if Kimberly ever gives him the chance to explain.

              She had reached Martha’s place with her bags, ready to retreat to New York and start all over. That was the life of an adventurous person and while it was in the habit of every man to love women for sex primarily, she would be having sex at her convenience now. Not having to bother whether her partner loves her or not. Despite her strong will power to leave Texas, it was hard to control the tears that dribbled down her cheeks.

              She recalled the first instances she and Willard spoke at his office, “What is this?” she gasped tearfully, fighting the thoughts of the incident at his house with a multicolored woman in the name of his wife. She had boarded a ticket of New York and her plane was leaving early that same evening. She had explained her reason to the one person who’d caused her to come down to Texas and now, she felt she didn’t have to worry letting her know she will be fine in case she had another male offer for her.

              “Excuse me Miss,” a man called out. She turned gradually and when her eyes met with the man, she pushed forth a familiar smile but the fellow was keen to remark that she had been crying all along. “I think you have to go home and come back at six,” he said.

              “Is it against the law here in Texas for a black woman to rest here?” Her sarcastic question shot the man off completely. She was left with her thoughts and the possible challenges that could resurface once she got to New York. “This is the life,” she muttered, clenching her fist as to forget about the incident at Willard’s house. Of course she didn’t expect him to show up and she hadn’t the time to check her voice mails. That didn’t matter to her any longer.

              She was returning to her home town, perhaps something good might come out of New York this time around, she thought, dashing her eyes up to the sky and wishing she could ask God to give her just one chance in all her endeavors.

              The early morning planes started to stream in and while she waited at the airport for hours, she sought to free her mind of the ill luck that always struck her. She was never called up for matters of the heart and despite her zeal to love, there was always something behind every man's motives. She flushed those thoughts with the feeling of returning to her little apartment in New York. It was no place for a black woman but she trusted this time it was going to be different.

              The pleasant smell of that wine stung her brain with the thought of her making love to Willard with everything that she had to offer. No man was able to stir her up the way he did but the fact that he was married was what had made her sick in the tummy. It didn't mater how far she could get away from those who'd hurt her, she had to face life squarely and whether she wanted to survive or not was a matter of time.

              Several hours passed and she still sat on the spot, not having to say much to those who passed and waved. She felt as though they were wondering why she would spend the night at the airport. She stopped looking at them and once it was two o'clock, the intercom started calling names of the various passengers. She had made up her mind to leave and there was nothing to bring her back on the decision but she knew she would always think of Booth every step of the way as she crossed the first check. Once she nestled on her seat and picked up a magazine, she delved to the advertisement section of the paper. It had the day's date but the information on the products they put was rather inappropriate.

              She found something that could take her mind of Willard and his psychotic whore of a wife. Meanwhile, Willard had left the house with only a shirt and a shorts and headed straight to Kimberly's home. She was not in and apparently, she had moved out of the house. His ambitions to keep the fame he'd worked so hard to preserve dwindled down the drain. He could have stopped her the moment he had the chance but he was scared of causing a scene and had preferred to stay silent.

              When he sat in her apartment for a moment, he thought of the formidable curves of her lustrous black booty. He had lost everything that meant happiness to him, he thought, raking his brain with one hand until his eyes caught a telephone number that was written on a sheet of paper. He took the number and called it with the hope of getting someone in New York. He was shocked when Martha answered the call and played as though she didn't understand what he was talking about. He dropped the call and headed straight to Martha's apartment.

              She had never seen her boss dressed so informally and this very first time meant everything. He had put everything aside to seek what pleased his heart. Martha studied the distress that wrote on his face as he pleased to know Kimberly's were about. "If you're lucky enough, you'll find her at the airport this hour," said Martha and watching him speed off at the reception of the news.

              He meandered through the still crowd, hopping from time to time as to fish out Kimberly from the crowd. "Excuse me sir, have you seen a woman..." She tried asking one of the passengers but he'd been busy walking his way as though no one was talking to him. "Excuse... Please excuse me sir..." No one gave a listening ear and the final shot went to the billboard where the flights are pasted. He studied all the flights to New York for the day and there was just one - the very first one of the day.

              "Shit!" He gasped and raced to the check point and started to dance about, trying to see if he could see her anywhere ahead. A few people were startled for a moment and then, the murmurs in the hall became the more eminent.

              "He's Willard Booth..." One of the men called out from the sidelines. He turned to the man who'd mentioned his name .

              "Hello sir," he said hesitantly, looking at the police officers at their posts and then at the time of departure. "Are you flying to New York."

              "Sure," said the man, feeling happy to be talking to someone as respectful as Willard. It was an honor for anyone who even saw him,  Worse was, they'd never imagined seeing him in shorts and sounding so much confused.

              "Please this is a matter of life and death," he said.

              "What the hell you say?" One of the security officers asked, looking the more concerned at his behavior.

              "Please I need just five minutes of your time," he said. "I will pay you for the time you will offer me to just go into the plane and talk to the love of my life please..."

              "How much?" the uniform man asked boldly.

              "How much do you charge?"

              "Seven K!" said the man.

              "Five!" Willard stamped.

              "Deal!" Said the man. He led Willard, right inside the plane and once Kimberly saw him through the space blinded by a blue curtain and right before she could get up and leave, their eyes me.

              "Baby wait!" He gasped, "Please listen to what I have to say and I will leave you to do whatever thing it is you want to do." He had gone down on his knees, searching through his pocket and bringing our a nice ring with a brilliant rock on the surface.

              "What do you want," Kimberly bleated. The passengers had acted like the spectators of a stage play, they had shared their personal views to have a man kneel in front of a woman with a diamond ring, and yet, he is asking to be forgiven. One of the women on her row seemed confused about the whole show, "If what you did to this pretty black ebony here is bad than I can think of, man you better start crawling on your belly."

The rest of them jeered for Willard to take up the challenge and sleep for his woman.

              "Baby please give me one more chance and I promise to tell you everything," he giggled within his throat even as he forced himself to speak.

              "I don't want to know now..." Kimberly said.

              "You heard the lady young man," said the woman.

              "I never had a girlfriend if that's what you wanted to know," he started.

              "Lies!" Kimberly retaliated vigorously.

              "I always went to the brothels to get satisfied because I could court a woman... That's exactly how I knew this Joan and I'm sure most of you who're boarding this plane have slept with her..." Kimberly started to turn around gradually. "I swear to you bay, if I stayed quietly all along, I was only trying to avoid a scandal. I didn't want the press or the media to start giving reports about me..." The men and women jeered a little more in the plane and then there was a gentle ding that was followed by the voice through the intercom.

              "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be taking off in five minutes..." The speech was short and very detailed.

              "If you take my hand and come with me, I promise you  that I'll never do these things ever again in my life," Willard said. She made the first lazy step towards him, paying attention to the murmurs that echoed in the cabin. The cruel lady started to play a kind smile as they all watched Kimberly go on her knees.

              "You got yourself a woman boy," said the lady.

              "I was so devastated when she walked in and started brooding and cursing," she bleated, falling upon his shoulders and hugging him ever so tightly. It was convenient for all the passengers to yell for the pilots to all Willard take his wife back home. He had come from far away and given the stress of kneeling before everyone, to make such confessions in public. Once they stood up, the members aboard the plane gave a rapid round of applauds for showing such courage.

              "I will never watch you leave... I want to be there for you..." said Willard, caressing her soft black cheeks and taking her lips in his.

              "I love you baby..." She said under subbing voice as she pressed hard against her lover.

              "Now, if the couples may please give our passengers the curtsey to meet the schedule..." The vice came through the intercom and it sounded sweeter than the several times Willard had heard it from his numerous travels. Once did what he did, he was no longer bound by the threats of Joan and he was free to be with whom he chose.

              "I was willing to keep you," he said as they rode off from the airport.

              "Your willingness is everything my darling..." Kimberly said, staring the beautiful piece of rock on her middle finger.

<< The End >>

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