One Night: A BWWM Interracial Romance (19 page)

After only minutes, her body felt raw and just when she was sure she couldn’t take anymore, he pressed his face into her neck and she felt the loud roar reverberate into her throat. She followed up with her own vibrating orgasm, arching her back against the hard wall behind her.
 

He held her pressed against the wall with his body until his member eventually slid out of her on its own. She slid her legs down his sides and her body followed. She wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her face into his chest, breathing just as heavily as he was. He brought his arms down protectively around her back, soothing away the ferocity of what they had just experienced.
 

He was breathing into her hair and after a moment he brought his head down lower. “Wow,” he murmured in her ear, “I think you need another cleaning after that.”

She laughed against his chest. Then noticed the shower cap lying limp on the shower floor.
 

“Oh noooo,” she moaned, reaching up to pat the hair that was now soaked through. “My hair!”
 

“What?” Jake said looking at it with wonder, “it looks nice. Sexy,” he said with a smile.
 

Natalie rolled her eyes at him. “
Now
it looks fine,” she said. “Just wait until it dries.
 
And for the record, I’m not trying to look ‘sexy’ for church.”
 

She reached over to open the shower door.
 

Jake grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Don’t,” he said. “You’re hair is already wet. Just stay here with me for a moment. We have time.”
 

Natalie looked at him, unable to stop her eyes from roaming across the body that had just given her so much pleasure. She sighed and let him pull her into an embrace. It was so easy.
 

She realized that this would be the last time she would see him for at least a few weeks. It only made her that much more anxious for the trip to New York that his publishers were paying for. She closed her eyes and squeezed tighter, feeling him mimic her move. As much as she would have loved to stay here in his arms under the shower, duty beckoned.
 

The second time she pulled away, he followed her out, turning off the water as he exited. By now the bathroom was blindingly foggy. She could barely make out the sink let alone look at herself in the mirror.
 

She postponed the inevitable revelation of the mess her hair had become. After spending the night snuggled up against a hairy chest and spending the last half hour under running water, it had to be bad. They each grabbed a towel and wrapped themselves as they walked into the less humid air of the bedroom.
 

Natalie walked over to where her dress lay crumpled on the floor. She pulled it up to inspect it, cringing at the amount of wrinkles it held. She shook it, hoping that it would make it somewhat presentable. She looked over at the clock and realized that it was this or nothing. There was no time to make her way home.
 

She turned to look in the mirror over the desk to inspect the damage on top of her head. Jake came up behind her and smiled.
 

“See?” he said reassuringly, “Sexy!”

She gave him a deep frown.
 
Maybe if she pulled it into a bun, it would be okay. She sighed and dropped her towel, bending over to retrieve her underwear.
 

“Even sexier,” he said suggestively.
 

“Don’t even.” she said in a no nonsense tone as she pulled on her panties. “Don’t you have to get ready too?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “They’re sending a car over.”
 

“Well some of us aren’t so lucky,” she said, running her arms through the straps of her bra.
 

She couldn’t help darting her eyes in his direction as she quickly dressed herself. He was casually leaning against the wall watching her, still dripping with the towel around his waist.
 
The way his arms were crossed over his chest made the black mamba on his chest and shoulder bulge like it was priming for an attack. She ignored the shiver of pleasure that rippled through her body as she remembered the events in the shower. Right now she had to focus on getting dressed and getting out of here before she fell under his spell again.
 

She pulled the wrinkled dress up her hips and frowned at the creases and lines. She turned her back to Jake and asked, “mind zipping me up?”

He stayed against the wall grinning. “If I don’t will you stay and we can both cancel our plans?”
 

She gave him a tart look. “If you want to deal with the wrath of my mom and grandma then by all means keep it up.”

“Oh,” he said with alarm. “Don’t want to upset the parents.”
 

Natalie smiled at that, as he came over to zip her up. She wondered what her family would think of him, at least in person; not as the stranger who wrote about their sexual escapades.
 
She wondered if this morning’s adventures would end up in the next novel.
 

After she was in her dress she made her way back to the mirror over the desk. She pulled a comb out of her purse and ran it through, trying to tame the hair that was getting increasingly fluffier the more it dried. Finally, she simply grabbed it, twisted it into some semblance of a do and stuck the bobby pins in to hold it in place.
 

She inspected herself when it was all done. Hair was iffy. Dress was wrinkled. She had lipstick but her eye makeup was at home. To her eyes she looked like the Walk of Shame personified.
 

“You look fine,” she heard his voice say from across the room.
 
He strolled over to where she was and leaned in behind her to look at her in the mirror. “I think you’re just feeling guilty because you’ll be spending all your time in church thinking about me,” he said with a grin.
 

She batted him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. She tried not to look at the slithering snake that rippled across the bulges of his muscles.
 
It was impossible.
 

Natalie turned around to him, placing a hand on his chest to create some distance between them.
 
The feel of the tiny hairs against her fingers made it hard to concentrate.
 
It was only the threat of what her mother would say if she didn’t show up at church, especially if she ever found out the reason why, that kept her lucid.
 

“Jake,” she said, smiling up at him. “I had a very nice time. A
very
nice time. I wish I had longer to say goodbye but I have to go. We’ll see each other in a few weeks in New York. Maybe we can have a repeat of last night…or this morning.”
 

Instead of responding, he stuck to his M.O. and brought her in for a kiss.
 
Like every kiss before, it stunned her into complacency.
 
Screw it, she was going to be late for church.
 

JAKE

Jake looked out the window of the Town Car that was creeping its way along the freeway to the studio. It was the middle of the day on a Sunday and still there was traffic.
 
He didn’t know how people here did it. He thought of Natalie and hoped she wasn’t getting in too much trouble with her family.
 

He smiled as he remembered their final kiss.
 

The car rolled past the front gates of the studio lot. Jake’s mind momentarily snapped out of the haze of this morning’s adventures to take in his surroundings.
 

The car was approaching one of the taller buildings on the property. There was an eager, young man standing there to greet him in a suit which was probably too hot in the dry L.A. Heat.

“Mr. Steele,” the man said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Corey, Corey Goldberg. Huge fan, by the way.”
 

Jake wondered if he said that to all the writers the studio tried to butter up. He didn’t bother to correct him on the name. He was fine hiding behind his pen name for as long as possible.
 

He followed the man into the building, up the elevators and eventually into a conference room that overlooked most of the lot. There were five people there, obviously hoping to play the numbers game against him.

They did the introductions, producers, producers and screen writers.
 
Got it. Jake took the secretary who made an appearance up on her offer of coffee; black, no sugar. He passed on the display of breakfast pastries and fruit that sat on a side board.
 

“I’m glad you could take time out of your book tour to meet with us,” the suit, Leo Wright, who seemed to be the one running this meeting, said. “Normally we go through agents, but we thought since you were in town, we’d just have an informal chat to see if we can’t bring you around.”
 

“I just want to make sure you’ll actually stay true to the book,” Jake said in an attempt to steer this meeting directly to the point. “Otherwise don’t bother using my name or my characters.”
 

“I completely understand,” Leo said, flashing a smile that was far too bright. “Obviously we wouldn’t be discussing making the movie if we didn’t love the story. Especially this last one. We want to jump on board before some other studio picks it up.”
 

Jake just nodded, sipping his coffee.
 

“But as you know, not everything translates into film, particularly
blockbuster
films,” Leo began. Another bright smile appeared. “Which is obviously what we’re hoping for.”
 

“How do you mean?” Jake said, making him work for it.

This was the part where Leo turned to the female sitting next to him to graciously pick apart the areas where his novel didn’t “translate into
blockbuster
films.”
 

“Well, Mr. Steele,” she began cautiously, “for example we might cut out a lot of the technical language regarding CIA operations, or maybe dramatize them a bit.”

Jake just nodded, taking another sip of coffee. It was some damn good coffee, he noted.
 

“And we’ll have to cut some scenes,” she continued. “Strictly for length, of course,” she added quickly.
 

Jake nodded again.
 
Another sip of coffee.
 

“Then we have to decide on characters,” she went on, her words even more careful. “We may not be able to stay
exactly
true to how they are described. So, for example, where Nick is blonde, we might have to go with Tom Cruise perhaps.”
 

“And Naomi?” He asked, helping her get to the point.

She looked to Leo, some silent communication going on between them, and then back at Jake, “Well, there are only so many actresses who look like her,” she began. “I mean
top billing
actresses. And not all of them may be available—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Jake interrupted. “I wrote Naomi the way I did because I was inspired. I’m going to continue to write her that way. I just can’t see a movie being made if she isn’t how I wrote her. I think the fans that are currently pushing the book to the top of the best sellers list might agree.”
 

“Of course!” She went on, though her eyes took on a slightly panicked look. “We’re just letting you know the possible...
obstacles
to finding someone who looks
exactly
like her.”

“Listen,” he said, interrupting her again. “Let’s not beat around the bush. You want a white Naomi, correct?”

They each looked at each other with concern, which gave him his answer.

“In which case, it’s a no,” he said.
 

“We’re just investigating all options, Mr. Steele,” Leo quickly said.
 

“Maybe you should go through my agent after all,” Jake said, rising up from his seat. “We went through this with the publishers and...well I’m assuming at least one of you read how the book turned out.

“Be forewarned though,” he said walking to the door. “If you think
I’m
a hard nut to crack, you have no idea what you’re in for.”
 

With that he walked out the door, down the elevator and out into the California sunshine. The meeting had been short and he had a few hours to kill before his next book signing.
 
He thought about how to kill that time. Too bad Natalie was at church, he thought with a devilish smile.
 

Maybe he’d visit that In-n-Out place. Was it Animal Fries she’d suggested?
 

NATALIE

“What in the world did you do with your hair?” Natalie’s mom asked, giving her daughter an incredulous once over.

Natalie had arrived to find her mother, Aunt Gloria, and her grandma waiting outside withe the few stragglers who were the last to enter the large church. Her grandmother was a staunch Southern Baptist and attended church religiously, no pun intended. Somewhere down the line her mother and aunt had decided it would be nice for the four of them to get together occasionally to visit. The most natural setting was her grandma’s church.
 

They limited it to once a month because, frankly the service lasted
forever
. Natalie knew that grandma had already been here since 8:00 attending Sunday School for the seniors group.
 

Natalie had a very strong memory of being dropped off around 7:30 every Sunday at grandma and grandpa’s (when he had been alive). Her parents knew not to even bother coming back to get her before 4:00 p.m., most times just letting her have dinner with her grandparents. Natalie had a strong suspicion that it was so her parents could enjoy a Sunday kid-free, more than her spiritual development.
 

“It got wet in the shower,” she said hurriedly. “I didn’t have time to dry and straighten it.”
 

By now her hair was pretty dry—and a curly, frizzy, mess. Reaching up to pat the twist down, she could feel the bobby pins straining for dear life. She had checked in the rear view mirror before getting out of the car and, at best, it could be described as some sort of a messy, chic, French twist. The looks her maternal relatives were giving her let her know that they were anything but impressed.