Slow Release (Ebony and Ivory Book 1) (7 page)

Skye

I felt so alive. As I posed for the camera, all those childhood memories, twirling around in frilly dresses for my family and friends, came to the forefront of my mind. I felt vibrant, in the moment, and at my best. It was just me and the camera; no one else existed. All my hopes and dreams seemed to have manifested into the reality of this moment. I had no sense of time passing, and I was genuinely surprised when the cameraman called out, “It’s a wrap.”

“Let’s see what magic we created together,” he stated, walking over to the computer where an editor was still hard at work. We both bent down over the desk and, with the enthusiasm of two kids with a new toy, started to go through all the photos.

I felt more than saw Damon when he walked over to us; he had a commanding presence. Even at my height of 6’, he made me feel small next to his 6’2” athletic build. I stood up straight so I could wrap my arms around his neck and then kissed him on his cheek. “You’ve made me so happy.”

“As you have me, beautiful.” He took my hand and kissed it. “Would you do me the honor of having lunch with me?”

“Only if I can wear this dress.” I cocked my head and gave him a playful smile.

“I’ll do you one better than that. You can have the dress.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You can have the whole fucking store if you want it.”

I looked over my shoulder. “No, the dress will do for now.”

“Your wish is my command, fair maiden.”

“Ha, I highly doubt that, Damon D’Angelo. You don’t strike me as the type to be under any woman’s rule.”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Okay, feed me. I am famished, and I’ll warn you now; I don’t eat like a model.”

He whisked me away to his car, and we headed out to a private dining club where he had a membership. Though he was teasing when he called me fair maiden, he certainly did make me feel like a princess.

Skye

From the moment we entered the members’ only club, we were catered to and stared at—no, make that gawked at. My mind tried to figure out whether or not it was because Damon was so powerful. Was he always stared at like that, or was it just because he was with a black woman?

I looked around and couldn’t help but notice every eye in the place was watching us. It was obvious people recognized Damon D’Angelo. His husky whisper cut through my thoughts.

“What’s the matter?”

“I feel awkward,” I answered honestly.

“Why? Because you’re the most beautiful woman here?”

“No, because everybody in here is staring at us. You don’t have any past girlfriends here I should know about, do you?”

“Skye, we live in modern times, and my face has been splattered all over TV and magazines, not to mention the Internet. I’m certain they are well aware that you’re a new model and wondering if you’re going to be the next
it
girl in the industry. Having said that, you need to know I don’t give a fuck about anybody’s opinion. I couldn’t be more proud to be seen with a strong, independent woman. It’s a turn on, baby. You’re a confident, sexy woman who doesn’t take my shit, and I like that about you. To put it simply… I. Am. Smitten.”

The pad of his thumb ran over the top of my hand as he waited for a response.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Absolutely not,” he teased, smiling with that cocky, lopsided grin of his that always seemed to melt away my insecurities and ease my apprehension.

“Well, I’m asking anyway. Why don’t you like white women?” He leaned in so no one else would hear him when he answered.

“Let’s get this straight right now. It isn’t that I don’t like white women; I just don’t fuck white women.”

“You’re so brazen.” I blushed in embarrassment.

“You haven’t seen anything until I get you in my bed.”

“Why don’t you… well, you know?”

“It’s how I’m wired, baby girl. I grew up going to schools that were predominantly African American. I was always the quiet, shy kid, but I knew what I liked. I remember, more than once, Jerome had to kick ass and take names to protect me. Fellow students were always trying to beat my ass because of my size. I guess being so small and timid made me a target. Anyway, back to your question, I have no problem with white women. In fact, I have some very good white friends, but when it comes to my cock, it just doesn’t get hard for Caucasian women. I’ve never fucked a white woman, and I don’t care to in the future. Like I said, it’s how I’m wired.”

“I don’t date though.”

“Good… because I don’t
date
either. Ever. And how do you even know what type of man you would date? You’ve never been with a man before, and by the time I get done with you, you’ll never want to be with anybody else.”

“You seem pretty cocky there, Don Juan.”

“I’ll be the first one to tell you I’m an arrogant bastard. I’ve spent years studying the female anatomy, and I’m damn good at what I do, Skye.”

“Which is precisely why I don’t think this is a good idea. You run as soon as you’re done, leaving your conquests in the dust to lick their wounds.”

His eyes turned into the dark tempest they always did when he was about to read someone the riot act. They were piercing and intense when he got like this.

“Let’s get one thing straight; I’ve never led a woman on, nor will I ever in the future. We’ve been over this, Skye. If they’re left licking their wounds, it’s over the fact they didn’t get their dream job. I’m nobody’s bitch, and I won’t be used by any woman. I don’t give a fuck what color she is.”

I was relieved to see the waitress headed in our direction. I felt like I’d just been slapped in the face. This was the most intense man I’d ever met. Whether I ended up in his bed or not, one thing was for sure; I respected him. Damon D’Angelo was a man who commanded respect, and he was right. He was nobody’s bitch.

Damon

Though it pissed me off when she insinuated I was some heartless player, leaving countless victims in a wake of lovesick depression, I understood her reasoning. The only interaction she had to base her opinion on was the conversation she overheard in my office when she first arrived.

“Hello Mr. D’Angelo,” the waitress’ sickeningly sweet voice grated my nerves when she delivered the food. She even bent over the table in a way that was sure to give me the best view of her ample cleavage.

“Tracy, how nice to see you,” I answered, never taking my eyes off Skye. “I brought my girlfriend in to meet you wonderful people.” I stifled a chuckle at the way Skye was glaring at the woman. Her tone of voice only confirmed to me that she was jealous.

“Nice to meet you,” Skye clipped out in irritation.

The waitress barely acknowledged her when she left, muttering under her breath, “What a waste—a man that gorgeous who won’t date white women.” I made sure I chuckled loud enough so she knew I heard her.

“You are bad, Damon.” Skye laughed.

“Let me show you just how bad I can be.”

“I
might
take you up on that one day but only if you promise not to break my fragile heart.”

“Ha, there’s nothing fragile about you. I told you already, I’m drawn to strong women.”

“No, you’re drawn to this beautiful dark skin of mine.”

“That too, can I touch it?” I waggled my brows salaciously.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Well, don’t ponder the thought too long. I’m not sure how long I can restrain my voracious appetite for you.”

Though I was playing with her, there was an element of truth to my words. I honestly didn’t know how long my cock could take the strain of resisting. I needed to be buried deep inside her.