Alaska Black Gold Box Set (4 page)

I don’t like getting familiar with people that work for me. It’s not good business.

With my drive home, all I can think about is my own bed. I finally reach home.

Entering the front door, I see that Jackson has brought in the wood I chopped the day before, and lit the stove in the living area. I sit for a few minutes getting warm, kicking off my boots, peeling off my flannel shirt and pants. I’m tired and sleepy. I trudge to the nearest shower in the hall leading to my room, and the water is hot and streams down my body for a few seconds, it’s too hot and soothing. My eyelids are heavy, and I almost fall asleep. I can’t have that happening to me. It could be dangerous. So I stumble out naked to my bed and climb in.  After wearing flannel shirts and boots every day, I discover it’s freeing to sleep in the nude.

I don’t remember being this worn-out where I don’t care what happens around me, fire or an animal wandering in, won’t cause me to stir. There’s no way in hell I would get out of this warm bed to check for an open door. I pull up the covers over my chest, it’s extremely hot and I toss around. Because it has been months since I’ve had sex, I’m positive that I’m having one of my recurring wet dreams.

In my dream, my fantasies take hold of me. That’s what dreams are supposed to be for fantasizing about people you will never meet or hope to meet. Like a celebrity or a beautiful woman you come across by accident. 

I never question my fantasies. I embrace them and take pleasure in them especially in my sleep. Like some men dream of blonds, I dreamed of sleeping with black women.

I’ve never had the opportunity or pleasure to meet black women outside of my company, hell, I’ve been working so often, I don’t have time for the white women in my life. My dreams were never about white women or any other women except black women.

Guessing it’s this fixation I have for black women which has me thinking and dreaming about their bodies, which turns me on and prevent me from finding other women desirable. Their brown bodies next to my pale one excites me. It was then I became aroused by the idea but never act on it.

In my dreams I could take this black woman and enjoy her in every possible way. She would give me what I enjoyed, and I would find the satisfaction I craved for with her body but only in my dreams.

When I woke the next morning, imagine my surprise when I see this beautiful black woman next to me gazing at me in horror. She appears as much surprised at seeing me as I am in seeing her.

C
ould we have both been drunk and I picked her up from the bar and brought her home? But I can’t remember seeing her in town. Maybe she’s new, and I was horny, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to take her and she wanted me too. Otherwise why is she in my bed?

And why did I fuck her?

The only thing I remember was my wet dream and how satisfying it was. I felt like a new man ready to go back to work, but it turns out that it wasn’t a wet dream after all. I was having sex with this beautiful black woman who’s naked and looking at me wide eyed, and all I can say is, “who the fuck are you?”

It was then I realized that she wasn’t a dream. I had been saying things to her I would never tell a woman. I was drunk but I would have known if I had brought her here or would I?

She jumps out of my bed and she’s naked and there’s a towel on top of the quilts. She reaches over and picks it up and I get a good look at her breasts, large and hard. She’s never had a baby. My eyes leave her body and focus on her face. She’s pretty and young; in her early twenties and I’m thirty, and I’m so hot for her I can grab her and drag her into the bed and start again where I left off.

I say to her, “How did you get into my house?” I should have said why are you in my bed? And when can I fuck you again.

“Your brother let me in, Mr. Gold.” She’s standing there holding on to the towel with one hand and biting her nails with the other hand. Her breasts are a nice size, not too large, and not too small, and natural, just like I like them. She’s five feet five inches and that’s good. I’m six two. She has these wonderful hips and that behind is just right. It sets up high and hard.

I know because I had her turn over and I was pounding it. That much I do remember.

The only problem is she’s the help. I’m not like Jackson. I can’t go around sleeping with every woman that works for me, and I wouldn’t have now if I hadn’t been so tired and drunk that I didn’t know a dream from the real thing. However, she looks like a woman that I would have considered under different circumstances, but from what went on last night neither one of us were willing participants.

This was just an unfortunate chance that we both participated in unsuspectingly.

It’s like an accident you don’t see coming. We both ran head on into each other and no one got seriously hurt but we are forever linked and changed by this. I know I am. 

“My brother, Jackson?” I ask her, and it dawns on me that she’s the maid I asked him to hire. “Why were you sleeping in my bed?” I was curious.

“I was tired.” I look around my bedroom and it’s immaculate. No dust but she turned my pictures around and never put them back. “Your brother said that you wouldn’t be back for two days.”

“It’s my house. I come home when I want and I expect my bed to be empty. That’s how I like my bed. Empty, without a woman.” I look in her eyes and I want her to take this serious so I emphasize the sleep thing. “I sleep alone at night. Every night.” I answer the question in her eyes. “I prefer it that way.”

She peers at me with those big brown eyes and says, “If you will excuse me Mr. Gold, I have to get dressed and I assume you will want your coffee and breakfast before you leave for work.”

I hope she can cook as well as she can use her body. I’ve never been so aroused and ready for another round of heated sex. But who am I kidding. That will never happen again. I get up and I’m ready for a real shower. I pull the covers back and I notice the red stain on the bed. “Oh no. Not that. She’s a virgin. Oh fuck me!”

That’s all I need is a young woman to get pregnant. I don’t need that headache now. I shower and dress and I walk into the kitchen when I smell the aroma of coffee and bacon cooking. I look at her and ask, “What’s your name?”

“Olivia,” she says, turning slightly around but not taking her eyes off the bacon and the eggs.

“You didn’t ask me how I like my eggs,” I say to her.

“I have the list here.” She pulls it from the fridge held by a picture magnet of me and an old girlfriend. I didn’t want her to see the picture just like I didn’t want her looking at me and those other women.
I wish I had known she’s that pretty and her pussy was that tight,
I’m thinking to myself staring into my coffee cup.

She glances at me, “It tells you everything about how you like your house clean to how you want your eggs cooked. The rest,” and she pauses, takes a breath, and her mouth curls up on one side. “I can guess about what else you may like,” she says with a raised eyebrow. She knows and I know what she means.

Clearing my throat I say, I like my coffee...black.” She turns and I think I see a smile.

H
e’s so damn handsome that I’m nervous. I don’t know what to say or do. I jump out of bed then realizing I’m naked, I climb over him to reach the towel that got lost in the bed as we were busy fucking each other like two wild rabbits. I haven’t taken any birth control pills, and I have to pray on this.

This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. This wasn’t a plan. I plan everything and this wasn’t in the fucking plan,” I murmur as I get dressed to go into that kitchen and cook seductive looking man a meal. I slip on a sweatshirt and pants and slippers.

We had a conversation but we didn’t talk about what happened last night. It’s like he wants to forget that he fucked me and took my virginity. I want to forget it too but I can’t. How can you forget the first man who entered you and you gave yourself to him willingly even if you did think it was a dream?

After he finished his breakfast he moved around the house making himself busy. There is a cloud between us. There are things that should be said but what? I’m praying he leaves so I can get the rest of the house clean and plan his dinner. But then I find myself wishing that he comes back for dinner.

I look out at the truck with him in it and it’s pulling out. He looks around as if he’s leaving something that he doesn’t want to say goodbye to. I wouldn’t want to leave this wonderful home if it wasn’t in the middle of a wilderness.

It didn’t take long to clean my room and the rest of the house. There wasn’t much to do after that. I wandered into the library or office and found a book to read and then it was time to prepare dinner.

I opened the fridge and the meat is wild meat. “I can’t eat this,” I mumble. And then I thought about Carrie coming back. Maybe I can call or text her but then there is the matter of a signal. I pulled the duck out and marinade it for a few hours and then cooked it like my grandmother had taught me. She always said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, but the fast food places had that cornered. Just like Carrie had said, “You have a dying art form, cooking.”

I prepare the duck and when I look up it’s five o’clock and I haven’t showered and dressed, and set the table. There is no sign of Carrie or Jackson.

Then I rush and set the table for one, and take my shower and change. At about seven o’clock it’s dark and I hear the truck pull up in front of the house. I know by the sound of the truck and how he walks on the gravel it’s him. He calls out to me, “Olivia.”

I walk to him dressed in one of my short floral dresses. I’m chilly but he’s worth it. Chance looks fresh and I want to ask him where he had been. On his list it says dinner should be prepared and on the table by six-thirty, and he is half an hour late. He looks at me and doesn’t say anything. But his eyes light up and wanders on my dress. He gives me a light closed smile.

“I’m going to take a shower and please have the food hot and ready. It smells wonderful in here.” I guess that’s the best he can do by way of a compliment.

He walks out dressed in another flannel shirt and a pair of soft worn jeans. He looks like a walking wet dream. I’m thinking that he must have a hundred of those shirts and his button is open to his chest.

His chest hairs are fine and I imagine raking my fingers through it. I can see the bruise I made on his neck. Did he open his shirt so I can see it? He looks at the place setting and says, “I thought you would join me for dinner. It’s just the two of us.”

“My contract didn’t specify that I should eat with you, and if I have a choice, I would prefer to eat alone.”

“I’m your employer and I want you to eat with me.”

“You are my employer but I’m not your slave and I make my decisions on where I eat and what I eat. I don’t like duck and wild duck is an acquired taste, which I never got used to.”

“I didn’t know, Olivia.” He appeared sincere.

“Well maybe you should ask before you start ordering me around.” I turned and headed to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. I regretted putting on a dress. He was use to barking out orders and expecting others to do as he please. I gave him time to eat that damn smelly duck and then I walked to the dining room.

“Do you want your black coffee now or later?” I stare at him.

“Later,” he says to me. “What about desert?”

“No one said anything about desert.” I pointed that out.

“I like everything chocolate. What do you have to say about that?” He has this gleam in his eyes and I don’t think he’s talking about candy. Then he takes my hand and pulls me to his lap. His penis is full and I feel the warmth of it penetrate through his soft pants.

Damn, I would put on my thong. What was I thinking? I didn’t know this would happen. 

“This is not part of the business arrangement and contract I made with your brother.”

“Well, I’m adding a clause to this contract,” he says to me with a wicked grin and leans over. His tongue passes through my lips and down my throat. He sucks my tongue gently as his hands travels with ease and with no obstruction under my dress. His finger slips past the string and crouch of my thong and finds my folds and he pry’s them open and touches my bud. Chance is an expert at finding what turns on a woman. I’m sure he has had plenty of practice especially for someone like me.

He’s my first man and even though he doesn’t acknowledge it, he’s well aware of what he has done to me. I know too I‘ve had some kind of effect on him because he’s at me again. This time he’s awake and he’s checking to see if he’s feeling the same way, or whether it was fortuitous and if there’s nothing there, he can go on with his life and not be hampered by his desire, and not be vulnerable to this black woman.

I
give out a moan and he knows he has me because he has done this before with some woman. He’s thirty and so freaking hot that I would suck his dick if I knew how, and if he wanted me to do it, without reservation.

I feel my body lifting but my eyes are closed and Chance’s mouth is sealed on mine. I’m in his arms and he’s carrying me somewhere but the distance is short and when I open my eyes he’s laying me on a white sheep skin rug near the fire. I lay on my back and I see him pulling my thong off. He’s on his knees and he has his face between my legs.

And then I feel his tongue on my clit but only for a few minutes then his hands travels to the bottom of my dress and he pulls it up. “Help me,” he says and I do as I’m told because now I can’t control myself. I want him so bad. When the dress is halfway up my body, he’s between my legs again. I can’t see what he’s doing but I can feel his tongue all in me and I’m squirming and struggling trying to pull the dress over my shoulders.

Finally the dress is off and I throw it to the side and I can see I’m naked, he’s between my legs with his clothes on. I reach for his top and he stops and pulls it off and tosses it across the room.

He’s on his knees again and I’m feeling embarrassed. He’s a stranger after all, and he’s my boss but he’s between my legs like a lover and he bends his head again and a throaty moaning sound comes when he’s close to my mound.