BWWM Romance: Crossing The Line: Interracial Romance / Wealthy Love Interest Read online

  Her words left Shawna speechless. She didn't know how to reply to these acerbic, possibly rhetorical questions. Every sentence sounded like a trap. This woman was a spider, deftly weaving a web. Shawna didn't want to know what happened to the people who got caught.

  "Alex says you like books," Elliot said, brushing off his wife's poor attempt at humor. She reached for her wine glass and he moved it to the other side of his own plate before she could grab it. Shawna intended to simply humor Elliot with a simple response, but it wasn't long before they found themselves in the depths of literary discourse. It amazed her that he had read her favorite books, including novels by Toni Morrison and Terry McMillan.

  "Oh for fuck's sake," Melinda said. "That's exactly what this house needs. Another bookworm. You're not an artist of some sort too, are you? I started to have some hope when you said something about science."

  "Don't mind my wife. She lacks imagination."

  "I have rules," Melinda said, snatching her glass from the other side of her husband. "Those rules include not boring me half to death with nonsense, which means I don't care to hear anything further about your father or his church. I don't care about what fascinating book you've read. I don't care how well you beat a drum," she said, eying Virgil. "Or paint a picture," she said to her husband. "Elephants can paint pictures. Monkeys can beat drums."

  "Well, what do you like, Mrs. Dixon?" Shawna asked. The edge in her voice made Virgil turn and stare at her. He readied himself to jump between them if Shawna's challenge was answered with one of Melinda's infamous outbursts.

  "Money. Things that make me money and people who make me money. Which is why I like you."

  Shawna narrowed her eyes and gripped the edge of the table. "Excuse me?"

  "You have a head on your shoulders. You're in college trying to make something out of yourself. I doubt your parents raised you to be some sort of welfare queen. You don't have any plans to get knocked up by my son in an attempt to live on easy street, do you? Because if you do, we'll cut him off like gangrene. He's already a pain in my ass. No job, no future. Hopeless."

  "If you don't want him," Shawna said coolly, "I'll be more than happy to take him off your hands."

  Elliot sipped from his glass, eyes darting between the two women, and for a split second Shawna saw the resemblance between him and Virgil.

  "So your hobbies are reading and garbage collection. That's good to know. It'll take you far. Alex, I've changed my mind."

  "About what?" Virgil asked.

  "Our deal. It's off. It's obviously not going to work. You went and found one of those bullheaded―"

  "Bullheaded . . ?" Shawna repeated quietly.

  ". . . disrespectful, mouthy girls."

  Shawna’s mouth opened in astonishment. How could this woman….

  "Melinda is running for District Attorney," Elliot said simply. "She was going to use you as a multi-cultural token."

  "Whose side are you on?" Melinda asked.

  "My side. You signed a pre-nup, baby. There isn't a goddamn thing you can possibly hold over my head."

  "Dump her," Melinda said.

  "Dump me?" Shawna said, her voice climbing. Virgil leaned across the table and gripped her wrist to keep her in her seat.

  "Did he tell you he was engaged?"

  "I'm not engaged," Virgil said quickly.

  "He is supposed to marry Anna Carmichael. We even signed a legally binding document that says as much. He's not yours to have, sister."

  Shawna searched for Virgil's eyes, but he was too busy studying the tablecloth, which was now bunched nervously beneath his fingers. Men were always so full of surprises. Too many surprises. Mikki always said that was one of the top reasons she didn't bother with them. Their secrets were too much to handle. Virgil didn't deny anything else his mother said.

  "I was going to try to nullify the agreement if you were a peach, but since you turned out to be a mess, I think we'll stick with Anna. Money should marry money, anyway. That's the way things are supposed to be."

  "This is America," Virgil said. "You can't have legally binding marriage contracts in America."

  "If you want to keep your little studio, your trust fund, and your allowance, you'll marry that girl, because I know you. You've never worked a day in your life and you don't have the guts for it. You need Mommy's money to survive and do all of the stupid shit you do. Including entertaining this hag."

  Shawna didn't react. Her face was absolutely still, as if she hadn’t heard a word Melinda said. Virgil's heart both swelled and broke at the same time. He loved this woman who wasn't afraid of his mother, who was willing to go to bat for him, not flinching or backing down. But he ached at the thought that his mother and her unending viciousness would ultimately drive Shawna away.

  Elliot watched Shawna as well, nodding with what seemed to be a subtle approval of her cool demeanor.

  "Are you done, Melinda?" Elliot asked.

  "Done with what? We're conversing."

  "Only you would call that conversing. Alex, I want to buy your house."

  "He doesn't own a house," Melinda said.

  "I will pay you six and a half million dollars for it. You can have everything that's in it."

  "Dad . . ."

  "I want you to move out, son. Get away from this crazy bitch and go live your life without fear."

  Melinda piped up, "Sure . . . I'm the cause of fear. Not the drugs, or the loan sharks, or the felony. Me. Can you believe that? They almost pegged him with murder. Did you know that, Shawna? Murder. Who knows what else I don't even know about? What's that they say? It's only a crime if you get caught?"

  Shawna pushed back from the table and Virgil tucked his hands into his lap.

  "Okay," Shawna said. Virgil looked up.

  "Okay?"

  "You said that if I said the word . . . we'd go."

  Virgil shoved back from the table and taking Shawna by the hand, he ran with her down the impossibly long hallway and out of his parents' home. They silently drove back to the small guest house and together they packed his clothes and essentials. Virgil stuffed his guitar into its case and they stowed everything into the back of the truck. If his mother really did cut him off, at least he had the few things that were important to him. He swore to himself that he was going to get them a bigger apartment, if not a house. And he’d work even if his father gave him the money. He wanted to make his own way in the world. He had to prove Melinda wrong.

  * * *

  "Good girl," Melinda said after they left. "That's right, take the money." Melinda poured more wine into her glass and turned to her husband. "Told you I liked her. Smart, smart girl."

  "I like her, too. I think she's good for him."

  "Are you really going to give that boy all that money for a house that's already yours?"

  "Yep. Anything to get him away from you."

  "What makes you stay, Elliot?"

  "You're an interesting broad."

  “Awwww, you old dog! That’s what you said to me when we first met.”

  “I love you, pumpkin.”

  Mrs. Hargrove shook her head as she listened from the kitchen door. Her employers had never proven themselves to be anything less than a couple of nutcases.

  CHAPTER 6

  It had been weeks since they ran away from Virgil's parents' home like two prison escapees running for freedom. She had kept to herself the questions that swirled in her mind. So much had been thrown in her face at once, and Shawna didn't even know where to begin. Despite everything that had transpired, she agreed to move in with him, breaking her lease and letting Virgil foot the bill. She followed him around department and furniture stores as they picked out furnishings for their new apartment. It had all happened so fast that it made her head spin. Before long, she realized that she might have given up her independence before she was ready. If that weren't bad enough, she might have handed it over to a dangerous man.

  Virgil never raised his voice at her or threatened her. His ge
ntlemanly behavior hadn't changed since they made this leap together. Unlike most people, there was no unraveling of public persona into private persona. The Virgil she lived with was still the same gentle, sweet but inscrutable man she had met that night at the charity event, and it put her on edge. She waited for what she thought was his inevitable transformation, expecting it to happen any day now. One day she woke up and decided that she just had to peek into Pandora's box and see what waited within. She had to know who this man was.

  They sat out on the balcony of their new apartment, overlooking the busy downtown street below. Virgil had moved them closer to the college campus and into a more expensive part of town. The corner apartment had two bathrooms, three bedrooms, a well-appointed kitchen and an office where Shawna could study. The sprawling space sometimes made Shawna feel uncomfortable, a reflection of her lack of knowledge about the man she now lived with. Even as they filled the rooms with furniture and covered the walls in art, it still felt more like a staged photo for Home and Garden than an apartment shared by two young people in their twenties.

  "Murder?" Shawna asked.

  Virgil slipped his large, black headphones from his ears, hanging them around his neck. He sighed and looked her in the eye. "I guess we have to talk about it sooner or later, huh?"

  Shawna nodded.

  Virgil folded his arms and kicked back in his chair so that it balanced on two legs. He told her he was just a kid with a learner's permit and no real parental supervision. His friends were his role models and they, as rich kids usually did, had access to every excess known to man. Drugs, alcohol, cars. Parent-free mansions and weekends to party.

  "We were drinking real heavy shit," he said. Virgil's eyes unfocused as he stared out into the distance, reliving the memory. "I was so drunk. Shit, we all were. I pushed Steve. He fell into the pool, hit his head, and died. Just―fucking―died. I’d never seen anyone die before….We were just playing around. He was my friend, you know? The last thing I wanted was to hurt him…we pulled him out of the pool, tried to revive him. The girls were screaming and someone called 911…. His parents pushed for a murder charge. My mother, the brilliant lawyer, got me off the hook."

  Shawna shook her head.

  "Yeah . . . I lost every single friend I had that night. I became a pariah, instantly."

  "Oh my god, Virgil. I'm so sorry. I can’t imagine how painful that must have been."

  Shawna rubbed his thigh, and Virgil took her hand into his, kissing it. Pulling her toward him, he coaxed Shawna into his lap, kissing her neck and collarbone. "It was a fucking nightmare. It still is. Thank you for understanding."

  He rubbed the inside of her thigh, and his cock grew hard beneath her. Shawna tingled at the sensation of him pressed against her.

  Virgil sat back and looked deep into Shawna's large brown eyes. The seriousness in his expression made Shawna hold her breath. "I can't promise that I'll always be perfect. I'm going to fuck up. I always do. I can't help it," he said.

  “Nobody’s perfect, Virgil.”

  PART 3

  CHAPTER 7

  Shawna raced through the crowded streets that stretched between the campus and Harmond Heights in her brand new white Mustang. Rush hour passed, but the roads stayed thick with cars. She beat every light, weaving in and out of lanes. Shawna had to get there before she lost her resolve.

  Mikki had left her a cryptic message on her phone, telling her that if Shawna feared for her life, she was more than welcome to move into Mikki’s home in Harmond Heights.

  Shawna downshifted and slammed on the brakes, too late to run the first red light she had seen since dashing from the campus. Stroking the wheel, she shook her head. No matter what she said or how much she insisted, Virgil had bought her the car. She had seen a similar one on the street and commented on how beautiful it was. The brand new Mustang appeared in their assigned parking spot less than 24 hours later. Shawna started to ask him to take it back, but she didn’t have the heart. He gave her the keys and clutched them within her hand as he pressed her against the wall, hiking up her skirt and pressing himself into her. She lost herself in his lusty embrace. That’s what he did to her. He was needy―and that got to her―but so confident at the same time. There was a raw power to his sexuality that made her head spin.

  “If I did nothing other than fuck you and make you happy, I would die a completely satisfied man,” he had said.

  Shaking her head, as if she could literally throw the thoughts out of her mind, Shawna pulled her focus back to the road and the task at hand. She had to get to Mikki. She had to put her foot down.

  Harmond Heights was the home of new money. The nouveau riche prided themselves on being a dangerous breed. Money changes people. Being born into it gave a person time to become accustomed, like a gradually warming bath. Their parents and grandparents before them went through the process. But coming into money quickly and having access to a brand new book of sin while still being young and beautiful brought the nouveau riche to the brink of madness.

  Clean, expensive cars lined the curbs and stuffed the driveways of the smaller houses. The bigger houses hid their treasures behind large gates, much like Virgil’s family’s estate. Shawna had celebrated with Mikki when she landed her first $100,000 contract and then the money just kept coming. Mikki resurrected profiles and reputations like a necromancer. Public figures bounced back like magic and everyone seemed to forget the horrible and embarrassing things they did as if the events had never happened. She was good at her job and rewarded generously for her work.

  Shawna kept telling herself that money is what happened to her best friend. She and Mikki had always been close, always trusted one another and depended on one another. No man had ever come between them. They were supposed to have each other’s back through thick or thin. So, why was Mikki working so hard to betray her?

  Jogging up the stairs to the large, red-brick mansion, Shawna pushed the doorbell as hard as she could. Mikki opened the door. Her short, silk, Japanese-style blue bathrobe was open to her stomach, revealing the lacy, black bra underneath. Her hazel-green eyes were shadowed and weary.

  “What’s wrong? You out here knocking like you’re the police.”

  “Is this what you wear to open the door to cops around here? What is this, some bad porno?”

  Shawna pushed her way into the house and Mikki closed the door behind her. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No, I want to talk. I’m going to keep this brief, say what I gotta say, and go.”

  “Shit,” Mikki said, rolling her eyes. She led Shawna toward the kitchen. “Who pissed in your cereal bowl today?”

  “I know you’re the one who told Virgil’s mother about me.”

  “So?”

  “She’s fucking nuts, Mikki. She was trying to use me as some Negro token of approval.”

  “Right . . . that’s what I told her to do.”

  Shawna leaned forward on the kitchen island, still standing. Her eyebrows came down and she couldn’t help the sneer on her lips. “You told her to do what?”

  “I told her that her campaign would look better if she had some color in her family. Give some life to their lily-white asses. Look what it did for that mayor.” Mikki pressed the button on her coffee brewer. She made one for Shawna even after Shawna refused.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I wasn’t. I know you ain’t down with shit like that. I told her to play it cool, accept you into the family and let the relationship evolve naturally.”

  “Evolve naturally? Mikki, that bitch is crazy.”

  “Oh. Is she?” Mikki stirred cream into her cup and added sugar with the same casual grace as if Shawna had told her about a new pair of shoes. She then began preparing the other cup the way Shawna liked her coffee.

  Shawna tucked her tongue against the inside of her cheek. In their history together, she and Mikki had never really fought. They had their differences, but they never threw down their gloves and went at i
t. They were more like sisters than friends, determined to have each other’s back when the tide turned against them. They weren’t cheesy enough to pinkie-swear to never allow a boy to break them up. It was an unspoken rule. But Mikki had always been understanding of Shawna’s relationships and vice versa. Shawna couldn’t wrap her head around why Mikki acted this way.

  “How do you not know the bitch is crazy?” Shawna demanded.

  “She seems fine whenever I speak to her. Look, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like a pawn. Are you still dating her crusty-ass son?”

  Shawna narrowed her eyes and stood up straight. “I knew it.”

  “Knew what, hon?”

  “You knew his mother was nuts. You sicced her on me like a dog, hoping that I would break up with Virgil. Why can’t you stand that I’m happy?”

  Mikki sipped from her cup and put it down. As Shawna waited for an explanation, Mikki tried to conjure up a good one. The thing was: Shawna was the only person she had a hard time lying to. So she wouldn’t exactly lie.

  She looked directly at Shawna, letting some of her vulnerability show, though not the cause of it. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy and safe and satisfied. I just don’t think he’s the one.”

  “Can you let me be the one to figure that out? I don’t want to throw away our friendship over this, and I don’t want to be forced to choose for nothing.”

  “You know I’ll always be here for you, but you can’t make me like him.” Her eyes were bright now with feeling and Shawna felt confused, as if Mikki had made a sacrifice. What sacrifice?

  “Fine,” Shawna said. “I can work with that.” Shawna took her cup and drank from it to symbolically seal their peace treaty. Although she had planned on saying her piece and storming out on a dramatic high note, Shawna settled onto a bar stool and asked Mikki about her day. It wasn’t that deep, Shawna told herself, and she wasn’t going to force it to be.

  * * *

  The next morning Shawna awoke to Virgil's head nuzzled between her legs. His tongue pressed and nudged her clit and the lips of her pussy. She moaned as his hands traveled up her thighs, hips and stroked her ribs. Burying her hands in his hair, Shawna giggled and moaned more. Her own mouth felt empty, longing to be filled with Virgil's throbbing cock. She threw back the soft, black bedspread so she could watch him work. His head moved with the motion of her hand and Shawna played with her own tits as Virgil's wild, bed-head hair wagged to the rhythm of his tongue.