AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (130 page)

BOOK: AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)
10.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Oh, come on!” she said throwing her hands up in exasperation. The tire iron clattered to the ground when she let go of it. What the hell was she supposed to do now? At the sound of tires crunching she looked up to see a blue Mustang pulling to the side of the road behind her.

Thank God
, she thought. She stood up and dusted off her hands as the Mustang rolled to a stop. Her heart skipped a beat as the driver stepped out. Cassidy.

“Looks like you could use a hand,” she said, nodding toward Nicole’s car.

“Yeah,” Nicole said with a weak laugh. “I hope it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Not a bit,” Cassidy said. Nicole couldn’t help but notice the curves of her against her jeans and tank top as she knelt next to the flat tire. She quickly looked away.

“Looks like you had a fair start on it,” she said, taking a drag of the cigarette between her fingers. Nicole just laughed nervously.

Cassidy held the cigarette between her lips as she let the jack down and reached for the tire iron. She loosened all of the lug nuts, repositioned the jack slightly, and jacked the car back up before removing them. Nicole felt silly for not having thought to loosen them first. Within minutes Cassidy had the small spare tire on and the flat tire loaded in the trunk.

“Now, you don’t wanna drive too fast on that thing,” she said. “And don’t leave it on too long. Try and get a replacement as soon as you can.”

“I will,” Nicole said.

A silence fell between, and the two women stared at each other for a long moment. Cassidy pulled a sharpie out of her back pocket and reached for Nicole’s hand. Nicole held her breath as Cassidy scrawled a phone number across her palm.

“In case you run into car trouble again,” she said with a wink. And with that she turned, got back into her Mustang, and drove away. Nicole stared after her until the car disappeared over the top of a hill.

Nicole couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the afternoon. Cassidy occupied her every thought. Finally, her heart beating nervously in her chest, she dialed the number that Cassidy had written on her palm. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Nicole froze for a moment, unsure of what to say.

“Hello?”

“So,” Nicole finally said, “How about that drink?”    

 

Chapter 4

Nicole chopped bell peppers and onions as she waited for Cassidy to show up. She had suggested dinner at her place instead of going out for drinks. It seemed a bit much like a date, which she kept trying to tell herself that it wasn’t. But she wasn’t really big on going out and drinking and there just weren’t that many options in a small town like Mason.

She poured herself a glass of Merlot to help calm her nerves.  She had just finished it and settled into the warm glow of a buzz when the doorbell rang. The sight of Cassidy when she opened the door took her breath away.

It was the first time that Nicole had seen her that she wasn’t covered from head to toe in grease. She wore a short pleated skirt and black boots with a low-cut top that had ‘SLAYER’ printed across the chest. She offered Nicole a single red rose. Nicole opened her mouth to point out that this was not a date, but then she stopped. So what if it was a date? Would that really be so bad?

“Thanks,” she said, accepting the rose with a smile. “Come in.”

Cassidy looked around the room with clear admiration as Nicole found a vase, filled it with water, and put the rose in it.

“I love your place,” she said.

“Thanks,” Nicole said. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“That would be great,” Cassidy said, joining her in the kitchen. God, that voice. Nicole practically melted every time she heard it. She got another wine glass and filled both glasses before she started cooking.

“Anything I can do to help?” Cassidy asked.

“Would you mind setting the table? Plates are over there, and silverware is in that drawer,” Nicole said, pointing.

“Sure thing,” Cassidy said. She set the table and then sat down to wait while Nicole finished cooking. It didn’t take long.

“So,” Cassidy said once they had finished their meal, “Not to be cliché, but what’s a nice girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I mean, how did somebody like you end up stuck in such a little Podunk town?”

Nicole shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Just grew up here I guess. I could ask you the same thing.”

“Same, I guess. I left when I was 16, but I came back to take care of my grandpa.”

“That’s good,” Nicole said. “I mean that you would do that for him. How come we never met though? I mean since we both grew up here.” Cassidy shrugged.

“I kept to myself a lot,” she said. “I remember seeing you around sometimes. You were a year behind me in school.”

“Ah,” Nicole said. “That explains it.”

They continued to talk and Cassidy helped Nicole clear the table before they went into the living room.

“You play?” Cassidy asked when she saw the guitar. “That’s awesome.”

“A little,” Nicole said. “I’m not very good at it yet.”

“May I?”

“Of course.”

Cassidy took up the guitar and sat down on the couch. Nicole sat down next to her and waited for her to start playing. She closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by the music as Cassidy began to play Stairway to Heaven. Her voice was a rich, smoky alto. When the last notes of the song had faded away she shrugged and handed the guitar over to Nicole.

“Your turn,” she said.

“No, I couldn’t,” Nicole said. “I’m really not that good.”

“That’s ok,” Cassidy encouraged her. “I want to hear.”

Nicole took the guitar hesitantly. She had never really played in front of anyone before. But something about the way that Cassidy looked at her, earnest and expectant, made her feel at ease. She began to play a song that she had written, clumsily at first and then with growing confidence. Cassidy placed a hand on her knee as she played, sending shivers of electricity through her.

When Nicole had finished playing she set the guitar back in its stand and neither of them said anything for a long moment. Cassidy leaned forward slowly and gently brushed her lips against Nicole’s before leaning back and looking into her eyes, as if waiting for some sort of sign or permission. Something about the intensity of that gaze set Nicole on fire. She leaned forward and pressed her lips hard against Cassidy’s. It was all the encouragement that Cassidy needed.

She pushed Nicole back against the couch and wound her fingers through her hair, her tongue parting Nicole’s lips. Nicole opened her mouth willingly, her tongue searching out Cassidy’s hungrily. Every inch of her burned with her need, a need that had never been satisfied. She let out a low moan.

Cassidy pulled away for a moment, her nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric of her shirt. Nicole quivered with anticipation as Cassidy slowly slid her hand up her thigh beneath the fabric of her skirt. She drew a shuddering breath as Cassidy pulled aside the fabric of her panties and slipped a finger inside of her. She moaned softly as Cassidy slowly withdrew her finger and traced slow circles around her clitoris.

“Bedroom?” Cassidy breathed huskily.

“That way,” Nicole answered, pointing.

Cassidy pulled her up by the hand and Nicole led the way into her bedroom. She turned to face Cassidy. The want and the need in Cassidy’s eyes echoed her own. Cassidy pushed her gently back onto the bed and laced her fingers through Nicole’s as she sought out her mouth again.

Nicole moaned as Cassidy released one of her hands and moved to caress her breast. She moved her hand under Cassidy’s shirt to feel her it. She wore no bra and it was warm and soft, her nipple a gentle point against Nicole’s palm. Cassidy sat up and pulled her shirt off, allowing Nicole a full view of her full, round breasts. Nicole bit her lip as she drank in the sight.

Cassidy leaned down and pulled Nicole’s shirt over her head and Nicole sat up to give Cassidy room to unclasp her bra. Cassidy pulled the bra off of Nicole and threw it to the floor before leaning down to trace circles around her nipple with her tongue.

Nicole quivered, almost bursting with desire as Cassidy kissed her way up her neck until her mouth Nicole’s again and her hand crept once more up Nicole’s thigh. Nicole felt the world reduce to a single bright point of light as Cassidy slipped two fingers inside of her and worked them rhythmically as she massaged her clitoris with her thumb.

Nicole cried out and rocked her hips against Cassidy’s probing fingers as a lifetime of need gathered between her thighs and shattered, waves of pleasure slowly ebbing away until she was left weak and panting. Cassidy kissed her gently before sitting up to pull her boots off. Then she lay back down and wrapped Nicole in her arms and pulled the blanket over both of them. Nicole realized as she drifted to sleep that here in Cassidy’s embrace was the first place that she had ever truly felt that she belonged.

 

*****

 

Nicole turned her face toward the hot water, trying to sort through the riot of emotions that bombarded her. Elation at her newfound relationship with Cassidy warred with her doubts, doubts planted by a lifetime in her father’s church.

What would it be like? To go to hell?
She wondered.

On the other hand, she was pretty damn sure that she had just found out what heaven was like.

But her parents would probably disown her, and not in a temporary way either. She knew without a doubt that if she came out to them that they would never claim her as a daughter again. They would never cool down and reconsider. That would be that.

But with Cassidy she finally felt that she had found something she had searched for her entire life. She felt a sense of being home when she was with Cassidy that she had never felt anywhere else.

Underneath it all, though, was that creeping fear, the one that her mind kept circling back to. What if her parents were right? What if all of her father’s Sunday morning ravings were true, and by being with Cassidy she was damning herself to an eternity in hell?

She pushed those dark thoughts away as she shut off the water and reached for a towel. She tried to quiet her mind as she towel dried her hair and pulled on an oversized Beatles tee shirt. She wiped away some of the steam from the mirror and studied her face as though she could find the answers there.

After a moment she turned away from the mirror and went back out into the bedroom. Cassidy was still in bed. As Nicole watched her sleep, a small smile crept over her face. Maybe there were some things worth going to hell for.

Dragon’s Desire

Want to receive
FREE
Romance Kindle E-Books
delivered right to your inbox?

Click this link or enter:
http://mitspages.com/mits/PonderosaPublishing/lgbt
into your browser.

 

BACK TO TOP

Chapter 1: Matthew

 

              The museum was the pinnacle of the area. It held the town’s greatest treasures and it was where anyone could go to spend a rainy afternoon. The small city prided itself on keeping this historical landmark clean and tidy at all times, spending a considerable amount of money renovating it year after year.

              It was one of my favorite places to go. I remembered going there as a kid. Walking into the museum, thoughts of a medieval castle rushed through my head, with its long hallways and unfathomably high ceilings. As a boy, I cherished the days when we had school field trips to the ancient museum.

              An odd memory of breaking something at age seven stood out in my mind. It was my birthday, and my mom brought me there to spend the day with her. I dragged her everywhere, all over the place as my eyes swept along all the exhibits. The seemingly magical place made me want to stay there forever. In my daze I managed to walk right into a bust of Julius Caesar, knocking it down, shattering it into smithereens.

              To this day, I have no idea how my mother saved me from getting into trouble, but we managed to walk out of the museum without getting banned for life. She was an amazing woman.

              I probably would have worked at the museum if she was still alive. She had died not too long ago. Murdered. She left no clues as to what happened to her, a cold case opened and closed within a month. But it was this event that pushed me into my current career as a forensics detective. A darn good one at that.

              Some people found it weird that I messed around with dead bodies and fingerprints, but it somehow helped me stay sane. My work had helped many police detectives catch criminals and sociopaths, and that was all that mattered. As long as my work helped to save people, I was content.

              But now, sitting here on my couch with a TV dinner, a feeling of helplessness overcame me. The TV was turned onto the local news station and my eyes were glued to the screen. I watched in horror as my beloved museum burned to the ground. There were flames spewing out of the windows and smoke billowing all around it.

              The news reporter was trying to explain what had happened, but being horrified by the image, it was impossible to process his words. The place I thought would stand forever on Main Street was slowly being destroyed in front of my very eyes. It all made me want to scream, but I couldn’t find my voice. It was trapped somewhere deep inside of me.

              Watching the left wing of the museum crumble, something inside of me snapped, unable to stand to witness the fiery destruction any longer. I quickly got up, looking around for my coat, but it was nowhere to be found. While contemplating going outside in the cold without a jacket, something caught my eye.

              I got close to the TV, seeing a shape in the upper left corner. It was blurry, but it looked like something big, something red. Was it the fire? It was impossible to discern, but as the camera focused on the roof of the museum, now caving in on itself, my eyes locked on to the red object in the corner of the screen.

              It began to move and I followed it closely, wondering what it was. The camera man refocused, and my eyes widened as something resembling a dragon stuck out in my vision. Not letting it go from sight, it seemed to be breathing down a fiery storm onto the already doomed structure. I kept watching as it swooped down low, destroying another part of the museum with its large tail.

              My brain wouldn’t accept these images, forcing me to quickly rub my eyes in disbelief. Dragons couldn’t be real. They were creatures of myth and fantasy. Sleep deprivation must’ve gotten the best of me. Why else would I see dragons floating above the museum? It was ridiculous.

              Sitting in front of the TV, I tried finding the dragon again, but it was gone. It must have been my imagination. Grabbing the remote, I turned up the volume, finally paying attention to the newscaster’s words.

              “The Berkley Museum is on fire. I repeat, the Berkley Museum is on fire. Firefighters are doing everything they can to contain the flames, but it is quickly spreading and becoming uncontrollable. The fire chief says he has never experienced such a fire in his thirty years of service. He is doing everything he can to save our precious museum, but at this point we advise citizens to stay out of the streets since the smoke is quickly building up.”

              Hearing his words made me numb. The fire was becoming uncontrollable. Soon there would be no museum left. The thought made me want to cry as I kept watching the live footage.

              In a rush of anger, I quickly turned off the TV, throwing the remote against the wall, causing the batteries to fly out of their compartment. The desire to go outside had been destroyed, and all I wanted to do now was curl up in bed. With dreary steps I made my way into the bathroom and got ready for bed, letting my body go through its usual motions as my mind kept thinking about what could have caused the sudden fire.

              The museum was inspected and checked thoroughly every year by the fire department. Making my way to bed, the idea of foul play came to mind. Had someone caused the fire?

              Thinking about such a scenario, I crawled under my covers, cuddling into my warm blankets. My eyes anchored to the ceiling as thoughts about the dragon from earlier emerged in my head. Was insanity weaving its subtle net around me? Did no one else see the giant winged lizard soaring high above?

              While falling asleep, my mind reeled back to my favorite piece in the museum: a large fifteen by fifteen foot medieval painting of a dragon hoarding its stash of treasure. The artist was unknown but it was a beautiful piece nevertheless, with stunning crimsons and contours. I remember sitting there for hours at a time, staring up at the dragon’s almost human eyes. Lying in bed, I wondered if my favorite painting was burning in the flames, or if the dragon was still looking over his domain with his beautiful eyes.

 

Chapter 2: Simon

 

              Ugh, why was the sun always so damn bright in the morning? Groaning, I rolled over, trying to hide under the covers, but the shining light continued to creep through the window and attack me. Getting out of bed was the last thing on my mind. My head was pounding with an awful headache, and all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day. Was that too much to ask for?

              Soon enough, however, the sun quickly won the battle between us, forcing me to get out of bed in order to close the blinds. The reflection in the mirror was a total mess, provoking a loud grumble on my side. What the hell went on last night?

              Trying to remember caused my mind to go blank. There was nothing unusual about yesterday evening: coming home from work, grabbing a beer with dinner and enjoying it on the couch. It couldn’t have possibly gotten me drunk. Yet, somehow the rest of night was a mystery. The search for clues around my room came up short. Shrugging it off, I went into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

              Brewing a decent cup of coffee was a relatively lengthy process, allowing me enough time to get into the bathroom and prepare for work. With my detective uniform on, I washed my face, trying to get the sleep out of my eyes, but the lack of sleep remained obvious on my face, suggesting an all-nighter on my part. Trying to remember last night only caused the splitting pain of my headache to return.

              A sigh of relief escaped my lungs as I looked at the time and realized there was still an hour left before work, allowing me to actually sit down and have breakfast. After I put some bread in the toaster,I turned on my small TV, with the intention of watching the news. That, however, was interrupted by my phone ringing.

              “Hello?”

              “Detective Oskar?” A delicate female voice came through the line and I rolled my eyes.

              “You know it’s me, Stacy, no need to be so formal. What’s up?”

              “Oh…well, Sargent McQueen wants you to come in as soon as possible, sir.”             

“Okay. I’ll be there in five.” I hung up and grabbed my jacket. The toast popped out of the toaster a few minutes laterand I grabbed it with a quick reflexive catch, nearly burning my fingers.

              Soon enough I was at the police station. Walking in, my boss, Sargent McQueen, looked at me with a grave expression on his face. I knew that face well. This wasn’t good. Something had happened.

              “Detective Oskar.” With a nod in reply, he brought me into his office, closing the door. “Surely you’ve heard about last night’s fire.” I looked at him quizzically, wondering what he meant.

              “Fire?” I asked. He gave me a strange look.

              “The Berkley fire. The museum was burned to the ground. It was all over the news. Didn’t you hear about it?” McQueen looked at me, searching for an answer. This wasn’t good.

              “I went to bed rather early last night, sir,” I said, having no idea whether the statement was a lie or the truth, but in any case, my commander didn’t need to know that.

              “Regardless, you’re getting the case. The fire chief suspects arson, and I want you to figure out who did it. I want whoever did this behind bars.” The Sargent’s tone was quite serious. “But you will not be doing this alone. You will be working with forensics expert Matthew Hughes.” I raised an eyebrow, wondering I was being paired with a complete stranger. Nonetheless, I remained quiet as I was led to our forensic unit in the basement.

              While following him, my mind wandered back to the previous night. A horrible feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach. I had assumed human form about three months ago. Living as a dragon, all alone in some cave with nothing but a gold stash for company, didn’t seem that attractive anymore. Riches no longer interested me. All that mattered now were the little human things that kept me going. Like coffee…coffee was absolutely fantastic!

              Thinking about this, doubt started to creep its way into my mind. Turning into a dragon once more could’ve caused a temporary amnesia. But that would mean the destruction of the Berkley museum was my fault…

              I was quickly pulled out of my trance when my name came up into the conversation. “Detective Oskar.” Looking up quickly, my blue eyes widened in surprise.

              A man, relatively small in stature, but with delicate skin stood before me. He had a V-neck sweater on and he looked fresh out of college. My eyes roamed up and down his body with curiosity. Heat built up in my body, but I tried to ignore it as the young man held out his hand, offering it to me.

              My hand met his, offering a firm shake. The curiosity in my eyes didn’t subside, as a strange emotion grew inside of my chest. It was new and unique. No human had ever made me feel this way. I wondered what was so different about this one as I looked into his sweet, hazel eyes.

              “Matthew. But call me Matt,” he said in a small voice before offering me a warm smile. With a chuckle, my blue eyes crinkled.

              “Simon.”

              Matthew smiled a little wider this time, causing my heartbeat to thud a little faster.

 

Chapter 3: Matthew

 

              Setting foot in the police station, it was exciting to find out that the Berkley fire was assigned to me. The desire to find out what arsonist had the audacity to destroy such a historical building was slowly building up inside of me. I got down to work quickly, running all the evidence acquired through microscopes and different forensics equipment, trying to find some clue that would help me solve the case. But it was hard since everything was charred to a crisp. This had been one hell of a fire.

              But on the other hand, being paired up with Detective Oskar was a welcome change. He was really nice to work with, and I really liked him. Truth be told, he was really attractive. He has the sexiest blue eyes that my gaze has ever run into. But, of course, a guy like him probably had a girlfriend or something.

              Sighing, I went back to work with my face pressed against a microscope, trying to inspect what looked like footprints, but it was impossible to distinguish what type of shoe it might have been. The fire destroyed everything in its wake, including any evidence that could have been left behind. But I refused to give up.

              As my work went on, someone walked into the lab. Looking up, I saw Simon. With a bright smile, I jumped off my stool and walked up to him. The tall man looked down at me with a smile before offering me a cup of coffee.

              “Find anything yet?” he asked, his eyes looking at me seriously. He was wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt and as I brought him over to my lab bench his muscles flexed under his skin. Trying not to stare, my eyes examined the countless scars decorating his arms. It made me wonder where he had gotten them. There was so much mystery to my new partner.

              “Nothing big. Just a few things here and there but they are all pretty much useless,” I replied in disappointment. The desire to solve this case and catch the criminal painted a frown on my face. Simon picked up my chin, his eyes warm and compassionate.

Other books

One Rough Man by Brad Taylor
Paris Letters by Janice MacLeod
The Bang-Bang Club by Greg Marinovich
Hero To Zero 2nd edition by Fortier, Zach
Taking Death by G.E. Mason
Taking Chances by Cosette Hale
Be My Valentine by Debbie Macomber
Folly by Laurie R. King
Wilder Boys by Brandon Wallace