BWWM Romance: Crossing The Line: Interracial Romance / Wealthy Love Interest Page 8

  She reveled in this new chapter of her life that included things like expensive dinners and on-demand fucking. She was starting to wonder how she had lived without Virgil's undivided attention. He was so smart, so soulful, so sexy. Sure he had flaws, big ones, but his good qualities were more than she’d ever expected. She let go and allowed herself to be spoiled. In the back of her mind, however, that other woman's name hung over her thoughts like a wobbling safe on a windowsill…the one that’s always falling on someone’s head in the cartoons. She shifted uncomfortably and Virgil glanced up. He raised up on his elbows and lovingly kissed her stomach below her belly button and worked his way up until he looked over her. Shawna wiggled her hips, feeling Virgil's eager rod brush against her waiting slit. He kissed her and she tasted her own saltiness on his lips and tongue. The smell of their sex hovered over their hot bodies. He entered her with a thrust of his hips and rocked from side to side, a more causal motion. Shawna pressed her hands against his chest, fingering the curly hair there, and they both took their time.

  "What do you want to do today?" he asked, his long hair curtaining both of their faces.

  "I haven't decided yet."

  Virgil lowered himself, pulling Shawna into an embrace. He loved the feel of her wrapped around him. The sound of her airy, quiet, relaxed moans satisfied a longing that existed deep in his soul. He could fill volumes of notebooks with lyrics with these moments with her. Her soft, dark brown eyes locked onto his and her smile melted his heart. The feeling of her muscles spasming against him drove him wild. He fought to keep his steady rhythm as she overloaded all his senses.

  Shawna draped her hands around Virgil’s shoulders and he showered her neck with kisses. He could still smell the floral lotion and body wash on her skin. It mixed with her natural scents into an intoxicating mixture. The sound of her breathing and the way she clung to him let Virgil know that she was close and he picked up the pace. As much as he enjoyed these lazy mornings with her, he loved the sound of her cumming even more.

  Their bedroom sat deep within the apartment, on the corner of the building, with its high ceilings and long walls. Their busy, high-society neighbors were hardly ever home. It was as if they were in their own little house. Shawna wasn’t afraid to let her voice carry and echo off the walls as Virgil stroked her g-spot. She trembled, calling out his name as he lifted her hips for leverage.

  “Virgil, I’m cumming!”

  “All day long if I have something to say about it,” he joked as he watched the orgasm overtake her. He wished she would let him record the sound of her climax. It was magical.

  He brought her legs up over his shoulders, kissing and licking each while maintaining his rhythm. Shawna gripped the pillow behind her head and held still, savoring the sensation of the afterglow of her first orgasm and the arrival of her next one.

  Virgil couldn’t hold back any longer. He teased and tugged at her nipples as he rode her hard. She lay open and the view of her soft, flawless, brown skin and perky, round breasts bouncing with every thrust brought him over the edge. He came hard and fast before collapsing on top of her. He liked keeping her close to his body. Snuggling was usually described as a female desire after sex, but he was the one who wanted it. He wanted to live wrapped around her warm flesh.

  "Is someone knocking?" Shawna asked.

  Virgil and Shawna exchanged a look and untangled their limbs from the sheets. Shawna tied her bathrobe and followed Virgil into the living room. Sniffing herself, she tried to see if they carried the smell of sex from the bedroom. Well, of course they did. Virgil looked through the peephole just as the person on the other side knocked again. He threw a worried look over his shoulder and waved her over. Through the peephole she saw the immaculately dressed, older black couple.

  “Oh shit. It’s my parents,” Shawna whispered.

  “Open the door,” Virgil whispered back. Shawna jumped up and down waving at her bathrobe and sex-tousled hair.

  “No! No! I can’t!” Shawna ran through the living room and back to the bedroom with Virgil on her tail. “If we pretend we’re not here maybe they’ll go away.” She dashed around the room opening drawers and the closet doors, snatching at random pieces of clothing. All of her modest wear had been buried underneath the saucy outfits Mikki had bought for her and the items Shawna bought for her nights with Virgil. He liked what tiny shorts did for her ass. Her closet was full of tight jeans, form fitting tops and a lot more black and red than it used to have. Shawna’s phone chirped at her and she squealed, covering her mouth and pressing her back against the wall.

  Holding his hands up, trying to think of a way to calm Shawna down, Virgil inched toward her phone sitting on the bedside table. He held it out to her and she shook her head. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “I didn’t tell them I moved. I have no clue how to explain what I’m doing living in sin with a white guy who dresses like a Satanist. I am supposed to be taking classes over the summer and I just dropped them―”

  “Shawna, you’re going to hyperventilate.”

  “I don’t know what to do!”

  “You’re an adult,” Virgil said darkly.

  “Oh, that’s rich coming from you, dude.”

  Virgil ran his hands through his hair and looked down at her phone as the screen lit up, revealing “Daddy” and a sweet picture of a younger version of her father holding a baby girl in a soft-pink Easter dress. Her father looked proud, pointing to the camera, trying to get baby Shawna’s gaze to follow his finger to look up. Virgil’s heart ached. He didn’t have candid pictures like that with his parents or brothers. Their photos were all staged, stiff, and as cold as corpses in a funeral home. They were used for his parents’ Christmas cards that went out to their clients. By time he was sixteen and in full doom and gloom mode, they had excluded him from the photos altogether.

  Shawna had told Virgil that her father was strict, but seeing Shawna come unglued made him roll his eyes. No one could ever be as bad as his mother, and so his sympathy was limited.

  “At least answer your phone.”

  “No . . .” Shawna said, returning to her natural color and voice pitch. She rolled her neck and blew out a breath. “I’ll tell them that I was in a meeting and couldn’t answer.”

  “And when they ask you about where you’re working?” Virgil asked. Shawna had quit her job to focus on school, allowing Virgil to be the breadwinner. He had convinced her that it was something very important to him. If he couldn’t do great things with his music, while under the thumb of his mother, he could at least support Shawna in her career goals. Plus, it meant she spent more time at home with him when he wasn’t running cars to the impound lot. Shawna was unemployed and not attending school― just what her parents would love to hear.

  “I got fired? It was a meeting about me getting fired?”

  Virgil pulled his lips between his teeth and shook his head. “We’ll work on that.”

  Shawna sat on the bed and picked up her phone, calling Mikki. The lack of background noise caught Shawna off guard.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at home trying to put together something for a client. Where are you?”

  “At home . . . dodging my parents.”

  “Ohhhhh.”

  “You knew? You knew and you didn’t tell me! Mikki!”

  “Sorry, sorry. Your dad came down on me with that ‘man on a mission’ voice and I lost my shit. Then I got distracted and forgot to call you.”

  “Right.”

  “We talked about this, ho. I’m not trying to sabotage your chocolate-vanilla swirl.”

  “Could you not? What am I going to do?”

  “You’re an adult,” Mikki said dryly. “If you old enough to suck dick, then you old enough to tell yo’ parents that you suckin’ dick.”

  “Sucking dick is not the point.”

  Virgil glanced over. An even shade of red bled into his face and he decided it was best if he left the room for the rest of the conversation.
He only heard one side of it and what he was getting was not going to help him help Shawna. He decided to clean up the living room and the other rooms in the house. He started to make coffee and do dishes. If Shawna’s parents were going to barge in unannounced, at least they would barge into a clean apartment.

  It was his fault. Virgil dragged Shawna behind him out into the world. She was perfectly content in her little apartment with her job and going to class. He was the one who didn’t want to do this alone. He could have moved in with one of his band mates until the heat died down, but they all enjoyed each other in small doses―the smaller the better. Still, he didn’t need a roommate. Virgil groaned and pinched the skin between his eyes as he rearranged his makeshift studio. He didn’t mean to make things hard for Shawna and he would do all he could in his power to make it right.

  Shawna stood and began pacing in the bedroom. While Mikki lectured her on being an adult, she wondered how quickly she could make up one of the guest bedrooms to look like her or Virgil’s bedroom and pretend that they were roommates instead of lovers. Virgil was not a person either of her parents would expect when it came to Shawna’s type of guy.

  “If you are so upset about what your parents are going to think then you could always dump him,” Mikki said.

  “No.”

  “Well, then do what you gotta do, slut.”

  Shawna hung up on Mikki’s gratuitous cackling. She found Virgil in the kitchen tidying things up and she dragged the garbage can over to the refrigerator to begin cleaning it out.

  “I can leave, if you want,” Virgil said. “I’ll come back when they’re gone.”

  “No, because then you wouldn’t be here and I need you.”

  “I know parents are scary but―”

  “Not because of my parents,” Shawna said. She walked over to Virgil at the sink and wrapped her arms around his middle from behind. Resting her head between his shoulder blades, she snuggled into his warmth. “You’re my boyfriend. Why don’t you just ask me to tear off my own arm?”

  Virgil turned around and squeezed Shawna into his chest. She always said the things he needed to hear. His insecurities constantly haunted him, and Shawna was the only person in the world who didn’t go out of her way to make him feel like shit. “Okay. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  “Oh, god, I have to tell them the truth,” she groaned.

  * * *

  They decided to meet for dinner. Shawna promised that she had more surprises in store, and her parents said they could hardly wait to see her. Shawna’s plan was to come clean and redact every lie she told on the phone and even every fib she had told since she was eight if she had to. Anything to make up for the inevitable look of disappointment from both of them. Her parents raised her solely to be a good example to her little sister. It was too late for her older brother and her heathen cousins whom she wasn’t even allowed to see outside the holidays. Pissing off her father was like signing her own excommunication. Without Mikki on her side, Shawna wasn't sure if she would get pulled from the fire this time. She didn't possess the quick, silver tongue and utterly convincing mask that Mikki could slide on at any given moment, making the bad girl disappear.

  She had asked Mikki to teach her all she knew about manipulation and getting whatever she wanted. Mikki refused. Shawna was an innocent. Mikki’s words, not hers. Shawna’s innocence was a rarity, she said. Something to be cherished.

  "You don't want to be like me. I'm going to hell and nobody cares."

  Mikki’s mother and father were both deadbeats. They shared custody, but Mikki took care of herself. She chose one house or the other depending on its convenient use at any given time. Not that her parents cared where she stayed as long as she didn’t bring boys to the house and no one called from the school.

  “I care,” Shawna had said.

  "You're sweet."

  Mikki had worked harder at protecting Shawna's innocent image than she did at anything else in school. It was funny now that Shawna thought about it. She was Mikki's first image client.

  Shawna found the perfect dress. Dark, muted colors with a high neckline. It swallowed the curves of her body and made her hourglass figure into a box. She dusted off her navy blue flats and lotioned her legs.

  Virgil leaned against the bathroom doorjamb. He drank her in. No matter how much effort she put into hiding her figure and toning herself down, he knew that a lioness and temptress lay underneath. He stroked himself, feeling his sudden arousal. He wanted to bend her over the bathtub, and use the hem of her skirt to steer her ass against him. The thought that her parents could harpoon their relationship was an instant boner kill.

  Despite her insistence on Virgil staying true to himself, he skipped the makeup and tied his hair back. He de-linted his black button-down and tucked it into a simple pair of black Dickies. For her, he wore a spiked bracelet on one wrist, and on the other, the gold Rolex his father bought him for his high school graduation.

  "You look like an usher."

  "I was going for mortician."

  Shawna shook her head and kissed Virgil before putting on her lipstick. Virgil wrapped his arms around her waist and gazed at their image in the mirror.

  * * *

  Shawna and Virgil went back and forth on who should drive. Neither vehicle screamed humility. Her parents would have been able to hear Virgil's truck coming from blocks away, and the Mustang's engine wasn't any quieter. Not to mention the flashiness of Shawna's long legs, no matter how long her skirt, stepping out of the shiny, luxury sports car. She could just imagine her parents with a window seat, spotting her getting out of either vehicle. Perhaps she should have suggested dinner at their hotel.

  "Maybe we should park around the block and walk to the door," Shawna said.

  "I don't think it's that serious." Virgil took his keys out of his pocket and the alarm on a modest, blue Honda chirped.

  "What is that?"

  "The weekend car."

  Shawna nodded, throwing her hands in the air in surrender. "Of course you have a weekend car."

  "Could you imagine road trips in the beast? The gas would break my parents' fortune. So, yeah. I have a weekend car. I go to gigs and long trips in it."

  "That's surprisingly practical."

  Virgil opened the door for her and Shawna slid into the passenger seat. The sedan smelled like strawberry air freshener. The soft, cloth seats had a few signs of wear. Band posters and fliers littered the backseat, and a small, red guitar charm hung from the rear view mirror on a chain. Shawna stroked the silver skull knob on the gearshift.

  "You like this car more than the beast," she said.

  "How do you figure?"

  "There's more of you in here than in there."

  Virgil ran his hand up Shawna's skirt, rubbing her thighs. "I also like how close you are," he said. She kept touching the gearshift and the way her fingers rounded the top of the skull made his blood rush. Shawna playfully swatted his hand away.

  "Stop that. We got places to be."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Shawna suggested the restaurant because she knew her father loved potatoes, and Benny's Steak House had the best and most varied potatoes in the state as far as she was concerned. Virgil parked and waited to see if Shawna would melt into a pool of goop on the floorboard before he could get around to opening her door. "Ready?" he asked.

  "Yeah, let's get it over with," Shawna said, opening her own door. Virgil jumped out after her and had to jog to keep up with her strides even though he owned the longer pair of legs.

  "Any rules?"

  "There's no preparing to meet my father," she said as they reached the door.

  Pastor Mills possessed the gravitational pull of a black hole and had an aura just as dark. He sucked life and light out of the room the minute he entered it. Sitting quietly next to his wife, who was busy examining the differences in the salt and pepper shakers on the tables, he stared at the door waiting for his progeny to appear.

  "Would you li
ke some bread, Pastor?" the young man sitting by his side asked.

  "No thank you, son. Enjoy it."

  Virgil had reached for Shawna's hand and she shooed him away. Her parents had to be introduced to her situation in bits and pieces. She couldn't drop it all on them at once by waltzing in holding hands with this big white boy she hadn't even bothered to tell them about. She could see the shadow her father cast from the host stand, and chose to seek out her mother's eyes first. Virgil nearly ran into her as Shawna stopped mid-step. She knew that her parents were going to be there, but the young man with them was news to her. She wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and took several deep breaths. The young man smiled and it took everything Shawna had not to turn and dart out of the restaurant. Her father sat back in his seat and the sour expression spread itself across his face like a picnic blanket.

  "Everything alright?" Virgil asked as they started moving again.

  "Nope."

  Virgil stayed two steps behind her, taking her hint that his touch was forbidden in front of her peers. It churned his gut a little to run into such a strong divide between them. It wasn't like he was going to throw her on top of the table and ravish her in front of a captive audience. He just wanted the soft touch of her hand inside of his and to walk side by side with her as her lover, and―he hoped―someone important to her. Instead, he trailed behind like an afterthought.

  Pastor Cordell Mills, his wife Nichelle, and the young man stood. Shawna introduced Virgil to her parents and hesitated on the young man's name.

  "This is Derick. I'm not sure why he's here."