BWWM Romance: Crossing The Line: Interracial Romance / Wealthy Love Interest (7 page)

". . . 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.

"
G
ood 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.

I
t 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 gentlemanly 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.”

S
hawna 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 it. 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.

T
he 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. 

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.