BWWM Romance: Crossing The Line: Interracial Romance / Wealthy Love Interest (3 page)

All of the food fit comfortably on the dashboard. Once they were settled, Virgil boldly draped his arm around Shawna's shoulders. She sank into his inviting warmth and her heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of his small smile. They sat through two movies, one horror, one suspense. They barely watched the second movie as they fell into casual conversation.

"I haven't had this much fun in a really long time," Shawna confessed.

"I'm glad I could be a part of it."

Virgil leaned in slowly for a kiss, giving Shawna enough time to back up. She met him halfway and was caught off guard by the deliciously soft touch of his lips and the gentle tease of his tongue. He stopped long enough to search her eyes for permission before kissing her again.

"If we do all of this now, what will we do Thursday?" Shawna asked.

"Well, if you want to save that," Virgil said, coaxing Shawna to lean her back against the door. "We will just have to settle for this."

He kissed the top of her knee as he pulled her leg up onto the seat and blazed a trail with his lips up her thighs. He waited for her to say no, but she didn’t. Brushing his straight, Roman nose up and down her panties and over her clit, he laughed softly as she jumped in surprise. Virgil moved the fabric over and was pleasantly surprised to find that she was shaved except for a small, fuzzy triangle. He breathed in her scent and kissed her clit.

"What if someone sees us?" Shawna asked.

"No one can see in the windows," he reassured her, positioning her legs over his strong, broad shoulders. "And we shouldn't rock . . . unless you cum that hard."

He went back to work lapping small circles around the lips of her pussy. Shawna lifted her ass and pulled her white, lacy panties off, which took some wriggling―motion that Virgil definitely enjoyed. She bit her lip and watched Virgil tie the panties around his wrist before dropping his head back between her legs. She tangled her hands in his soft hair and felt her pussy twitch as he moaned in response. He reached down beneath his kilt (he wasn't wearing anything underneath) and began stroking himself. Shawna clenched the material of the seat and braced herself against the dashboard.

"You taste fantastic," he said, dipping his tongue inside of her and moving it in and out. Shawna moaned and began to tremble under his touch.

"It feels good."

He twisted slightly to get better access to himself and Shawna got a peek at his thick, long cock. She smiled in anticipation. It was good to know the truck wasn't compensating for something else. His free hand traveled up to massage her breasts. He eased her bra off―it helped that it fastened in the front―squeezed each pert breast briefly, then turned his full attention to her left breast, running circles around the nipple with his thumb. Shawna took care of the other one. Returning to sucking on her clit, Virgil reveled in how quickly Shawna began to peak. H e caught her juices with his tongue.

Shawna began imagining the feel of Virgil's fat cock thrusting inside of her. The thought made her cum, and as she did so did he with a flutter of his eyes and a wild yell. Shawna let her head rest against the cool glass and listened to the rapid pound of her own heartbeat. Virgil kissed her pussy one last time before sitting upright, near panting. His face was scarlet and his hair stuck to his forehead.

"I think we're off to a good start," he said.

"Agreed."

"
I
'm begging
you not to go on this date," Mikki pleaded through the phone. "He's my client's son, for fuck's sake."

The pieces snapped together, but slightly askew. While Shawna could understand Mikki's nervousness about getting involved with Virgil due to her relationship with his mother, Shawna couldn't understand what that had to do with her. Virgil was an adult. She was an adult. What they did together was none of his mother's business and it certainly was none of Mikki's business.

"No," Shawna said simply. "I like him. He's the first guy I've genuinely liked in a really long time." She looked over at her couch where his jacket lay. She forgot to take it off after he dropped her off at home. She liked having the reminder. He had also given her an old iPod so she could listen to some new music, including tracks from his own band.

"He's no good, Shawna."

"I don't have the energy for your negativity," Shawna said, hanging up. When she had answered the phone she half expected an apology. Instead she received a barrage of insults as to why Virgil and she didn't fit together.

Shawna threw open her closet and pushed the clothes to the side one by one until she found the exact dress she was looking for: a little, tight, white number with a heart shaped cutout over her cleavage, a high, lacy collar, and a hem that stopped a few inches below her crotch. She knew that Virgil was going to show up in his usual, black atmospheric garb and she wanted to tantalize his senses and throw him for a loop. Show him that she could play with the big boys.

Opening her dresser, she dug out some costume jewelry from a few Halloweens ago. A forgotten bottle of dark red nail polish rolled across the wood of the drawer and Shawna squealed. She shook the bottle and listened to the agitator click around.

She was studying her image in the mirror when there was a knock on the door. She admired her dark red lipstick and heavy eye makeup. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to compose herself. Trembling with excitement like a little schoolgirl would have destroyed the image of sophistication she was going for.

Mikki gawked at Shawna when she opened the door. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Go away. He'll be here any minute."

"You look like you're on meth. Not even once, honey."

"I don't have time for this," Shawna said as Mikki pushed past her.

"Listen to me," she said. "Don't go."

"Mind your business, Mikki."

"Can't you see that you're a fucking fetish? He's using you. You're his little chocolate fantasy. When he gets tired of you, he'll throw you away just like all the other girls."

Shawna attempted to swallow the lump in her throat, but it kept bobbing back to the surface. Mikki knew just where to stick the knife. "Why don't you want me to be happy?"

"Of course I want you to be happy," Mikki said, taking Shawna's hands. "I want you to be happy and safe. I just want you to be careful."

Another knock erupted on the door.

"Ask him about Janet."

"Bye, Mikki."

Shawna walked Mikki to the door and opened it to find Virgil on the other side. Mikki sidled past him. Looking back over her shoulder she told Shawna, "Call me."

"Is everything okay?" Virgil asked once the elevator doors closed with Mikki on the other side.

"Yeah, she's just a real buzz-kill."

"You . . . uh . . . you look fantastic."

"You hate it," Shawna said, her mood dropping further.

"No, I love it. Especially that dress, but you don't have to change your style for me. I like you just the way you are. I know that this," he said, indicating his black, silk poet's shirt tucked into a pair of tight leather pants and the small, silver pentacle hung from a delicate chain around his neck, "isn't for everyone. But, thanks. Really."

"I guess I should go change, huh?"

Virgil's eyebrow jumped. "Well . . . let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater."

Virgil followed Shawna back into her apartment and watched her ass switch underneath her dress. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips against her neck. "If we don't leave now, I'm not sure if we'll leave at all."

Shawna purred, feeling his half-mast erection pressed against her. His hands roamed her stomach to her exposed cleavage. He kissed her shoulder and she rolled her head to the side. "Mmm," she hummed, reveling in the feel of his fingers on her skin. She closed her eyes and let herself imagine the two of them naked in her bed.

"You know . . . the art isn't going to get up and walk away," he said.

"No," Shawna said, turning around. She draped her arms around his neck. Virgil pulled her body against his and rested his forehead against hers. "We should go."

"Or we could fuck and then go."

"What is the foundation of this relationship exactly?"

"Fucking, fast food, and the occasional intellectual activity. I got us tickets to the ballet, by the way."

Shawna laughed and led Virgil to the door and he whimpered. "But that bed looks so nice."

She let her eyelids drop to half mast. "I'm going to make you beg for it."

"Yes, ma'am!"

S
hawna regretted not taking
the opportunity to change clothes while she had the chance. Although she was used to getting funny looks from people, the stares and glares were so intense that she found it hard to concentrate. Sensing her discomfort, Virgil tucked her into his trench coat.

"Sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it."

When she got the chance, she ducked into the museum's bathroom and re-did her makeup, removing the dark lipstick and lightening the shadow on her eyes. She wished that she had brought a different outfit. The tiny, white dress proved to be too tiny; she found herself constantly yanking it down even after she had Virgil's coat.

They made it through two floors before her high heels began destroying the bottoms of her feet.

"This is a total disaster. I'm so sorry," Shawna said, plopping down on a bench. Virgil sat next to her and pulled her burning feet into his lap. Removing her killer shoes, he massaged everywhere that hurt, including her ankles and calves.

"Let me see my phone and those headphones in my breast pocket," he said. Virgil turned on a radio tuner and scooted closer to Shawna until her knees lay across his lap. He gave her one of the earbuds and they listened to the museum tour, while the other patrons milled around them. Even though they still stared, Shawna felt warm and protected in Virgil's arms. The death stare he shot back helped also.

He tucked his hand into the inside of her thigh and stroked her inner knee with his middle finger.

"I'm so--"

"Stop apologizing," he said. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Thanks for not giving up on me."

Virgil pulled Shawna until she sat completely in his lap and wrapped his arms around her. Resting his chin against her shoulder, he sighed. "Hey, that's my line."

V
irgil tuned his guitar
. He still smelled Shawna on his skin and tasted her on his lips. Everything about her translated into lyrics. She made him want to sing, which was something he hadn't wanted to do for a very long time. Even though the last date didn't end with him inside of her, he couldn't help but fantasize about her legs wrapped around his waist as she called out his name. She was so soft, so sweet. He chewed on his guitar pick and played the electric tone again, plucking at his strings until they matched the sound.

He didn't know exactly what he expected. The only thing he saw was that she was absolutely beautiful and he knew he was going to do any and everything in his power to make her his. Although he was a little disappointed at the lack of dramatics, Virgil was happy with the result. Shawna surprised him with her delicate, sensitive nature. His vision of a black woman was a strong, domineering, loud and vibrant personality. Shawna was vibrant, but in a subtle way that snuck up on him when he least expected it. Virgil needed a woman with mystery, and Shawna had that, but not in a femme fatale kind of way; she had something far more rare. Her depths needed no veils and charms, no come-ons. She was the real thing. She thrilled him like no woman before her and every time he left her, he was hungry for more.

Virgil put on his headphones and turned the volume up. Power bass and fast snare exploded in his brain. Taking the pick from between his teeth, he let his fingers dance across the fret board and over the strings. The wine- red Gibson Les Paul Classic sang for Virgil. He closed his eyes and let it suck him in. The song felt like it was woven from the blood vessels in his wrist. He had been writing it since the first time he laid eyes on Shawna, and the last two days he had spent with her helped him fill in the gaps.

If he had his choice, Virgil would do nothing more than write music and see Shawna in the throes of ecstasy. He loved her taste and the thickness of her body. Every line and curve felt contoured to his hands and his alone. Soft skin smelling of floral lotion and tasting like salty sunlight made him hard every time. Her eyes, so velvety and trustful but also full of curiosity made him feel seen in a way that was almost scary but deeply arousing. And the way she melted beneath his touch and giggled, welcoming his advances, amplified his desire a hundredfold. She might be quiet and soft, but she was always hot and ready for him.

Suddenly, the sound dropped out from under him, and Virgil hit every sour note his fingers could find. Snatching the headphones off, he searched for the source of the disruption. He didn't have to look far. Virgil's mother leaned against the wall next to his amp, swinging the outlet cord. Her brittle presence made his thoughts feel both dirty and childish.

"Where've you been?" she asked. "Not looking for a job, I suppose."

"I have a job," Virgil said darkly.

"No, you volunteer as a fucking painted, party clown for drunk―albeit more successful than you―college kids."

Virgil took a deep breath and pressed his hands into his thighs. She was in one of her moods, and it was Virgil's misfortune that he was at home. His house and studio were both on his parents' property, but his mother still had to either walk or drive the equivalent of six city blocks to get to him. The seething rage had his name on it either way. Better to get it over with while the day was still young. Before he could reply to her attack, his phone rang. The timing couldn't have been better. Avery's Towing Co. called Virgil back in regard to his application.

Virgil had never lived away from home. After he dropped out of art school, he had an agreement with his father that as long as he continued booking gigs and kept working on trying to get a recording contract, Virgil could stay on the property rent free. His father had given up his dream of music at a young age and regretted it every day. His mother, however, wasn't as understanding or sympathetic. Music was a waste of time. Art was something you bought cheap and mass produced. Money was the only language she spoke, and if you weren't about money, she didn't want to have anything to do with you.

Melinda narrowed her eyes at Virgil and crossed her arms. "What are you up to?"

"You wanted me to get a real job. So, I'm getting a real job."

"No, no, no. You and your father don't believe in real jobs. What are you up to? Are you doing drugs?"

"Drug addicts don't get jobs, Mom. I'm not on drugs. I simply want my own money for once." Which was true. He didn't plan on asking his father for money to wine and dine Shawna. He wanted the fantasy of her popping in on him at work and bringing him lunch (a sandwich cut in half, a piece of fruit, two cookies in a napkin). Thinking about little, cute domestic things involving Shawna made his heart flutter. This was important to him, and not even his controlling mother was going to change it.

Melinda stepped in Virgil's path and pointed a well-manicured finger in his face. "Whatever it is you're up to better not embarrass me."

"I think you do enough of that for the both of us. Why don't you have another drink?"

"You’re lucky you're your father's favorite, or I'd put you out on your good-for-nothing ass."

V
irgil hopped
in his truck and sped out of the driveway, twisting the steering wheel in his hands. She knew just how to press his buttons and she did so for fun. Before he knew it, he had called Shawna, and was listening to the ringtone. He didn't know whether she was at work. Unlike him, she had a job. She went to school. She had a secure future with secure money and focus. What business did he have messing with a girl like that? He hung up before she could answer, and steered the truck in the opposite direction of her apartment. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to get away from the property.

Stopping at a red light, he slammed his hands against the steering wheel and ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't take his toxic attitude to Shawna. Not when she was so bright and sunny. His phone buzzed in his lap and he looked down. Shawna let him take a picture of her in that white dress. The picture that appeared when she called was the heart shaped cutout in the fabric, framing her cleavage.

"Hey . . . sorry I hung up," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "I didn't know if you were at work."

"No, I'm at home. I haven't actually picked up more hours yet. I'm just enjoying having some down time. Ugh. I'm so burned out, it's not even funny."

Just the sound of her voice calmed him down. Virgil turned the truck around and gunned it toward her apartment.

"Mind if I drop in? You know . . . just to hang out."

"Sure!"

Shawna's apartment smelled of savory spices and heat. She let him in and went back to the kitchen. Virgil's eyes wandered over the various green vegetables, beans, and meat.

"Are you feeding an army?"

Shawna laughed. "No, I cook a bunch of stuff and then freeze it. Keeps me from breaking my budget eating out for at least two and a half weeks. Want a plate?"

"Definitely."

She fed him and the food was as good as it smelled. He watched her spoon the leftovers into containers, label them and place them neatly in her freezer. It made him happy to think of her taking care of herself this way. She let him have run of her television, and make a pillow of her lap. Virgil yawned and found himself drifting off underneath the gentle touch of her hand stroking his hair.