A Tropical Rendezvous: A BWWM Interracial Bad Boy Billionaire Multicultural Romance (African American Romance) (40 page)

Frank was right about one thing, he realized, Desmond was gone and he was wasting a perfectly good life. It was insulting to all of them. He closed the door, looked at his face before he grabbed his shaver and got to work.

When he woke the next morning, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t slept much. He walked into the kitchen, poured hot coffee inside of a travel mug and headed to the hospital. The sun had barely risen an hour before, his dash flashed 6:15 in green letters. He knew that Stacey wouldn’t be up yet, but he craved being near her.

Pulling into a spot at the hospital, he pulled a black box out of his pocket. Popping it open, a diamond glittered up at him. He held it up to the light, smiled. The ring had been shoved to the bottom of his nightstand for too long.

He slid out of the car, pushing the ring back into his pocket as he went. When he walked into her room, Stacey was already up, a smile on her face. He handed her a bag of clothes that she could change into.

“You’re amazing,” she said as she slipped out of the bed.

“Are you supposed to be doing that yet?”

Stacey rolled her eyes. “I hate hospitals. Besides, I stayed the night. The nurse said she can get my papers in an hour or two. Is that coffee?”

She reached for it, but he slapped her hand. “No caffeine, remember?” He said pointing towards the baby.

Stacey grinned. “You passed the test.”

“I’m sure.”

“You shaved,” she said as she ran a hand over his chin.

“Just for you,” he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers.

After she was showered and dressed, they sat around for a while until the nurse appeared. She was a plump woman with a wide smile and a mass of curly, blonde hair. The woman went over the discharge papers with her until Stacey signed and they could finally leave. Stepping out into the sun made Stacey smile.

“The world looks a whole lot different when you think you’re going to die,” she mused as she followed behind him to the car.

“I know exactly what you mean. Home for a cooked meal or a restaurant?” He asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Home, please. I need to not see people for a while.”

They drove the distance in comfortable silence, her hands slipped inside of his. Sometimes, his fingers would give her hand a squeeze as if he couldn’t believe that she was actually sitting next to him again. With Stacey beside him, he felt complete in a way that wasn’t possible when she was gone.

“Oh look at this, you cleaned!” She said with a laugh as she stepped through the door.

The house was spotless. Fresh flowers adorned Stacey’s vases that hadn’t held them in months. He’d scrubbed the floors, washed the windows. The soft smell of lemons still lingered mingled with the aroma of fresh coffee.

“I could get used to this,” she said as she leaned against his chest, tilted her head up to capture his lips in a kiss.

When he tried to pull away, she pulled him in closer. He grinned. “I thought you were hungry.”

“Let’s work up a real appetite,” she mumbled against his lips.

Her fingers pushed up his shirt, her fingers grazing his chest. The muscles in his already sculpted stomach tightened, a shiver of pleasure sweeping through his body. Stacey was on a mission as she undid his pants, pushed them to the floor. He kicked them off.

She turned, her hips swaying as she made her way to their bedroom. Ryan walked after her as if in a trance, his eyes traveling over her abundant curves. As soon as they were in the room, she slipped out of her clothes. Standing there, Ryan felt his length twitch within his boxers. He shoved them off quickly, too impatient to play the usual cat and mouse games that they enjoyed.

Ryan grabbed a hold of her. He let his tongue slip into her mouth as his fingers ran over her skin. The look in her eyes was one of longing and desire. He knew exactly how she felt, it had been weeks since they’d felt another person’s touch. Every brush of fingers against one another’s skin was electric, Ryan found as he led Stacey to the bed.

The woman moaned as he dove between her thighs. It wasn’t long before her legs trembled within his strong grip. She was writhing her hips, head thrown back as she tried to draw out every ounce of pleasure that his tongue had to offer. When her wetness covered his mouth and she panted, she sat up, pushing him down.

A grin spread across her face as she gripped his length, wrapped her lips around it. Ryan shuddered, his stomach muscles clenching tightly as she started off slow, teasing. It wasn’t long before she had abandoned her soft, playfulness in favor of bringing him to the edge again and again. When Ryan couldn’t take anymore, he had to push her away.

Stacey lay back on the bed, her fingers running over her bare mound. He trailed fingers over her softness, before he slipped inside of her. Every sliding inch brought forth a series of light moans and pants from her lips, his own breathing stuttered the more he slipped inside of her. When every inch was buried, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to thrust into her.

As she throbbed and pulsed around him, Stacey’s back arched from the bed. He leaned forward, captured an erect nipple between his lips. His tongue flicked it mercilessly, his lips sucking her in, making her hold his head to her breasts as she moaned. They didn’t stop there.

The weeks of separation seemed to pull from them an energy that they hadn’t seemed to possess since they were teens. Stacey climbed on top, rode him until she couldn’t take the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that ran through her body. Ryan pushed her to her knees, gripped her hips as he thrust into her. The sound of their moaning filled the room, their lips moaning against each other when they could kiss. When they were reduced to a pile of shivering nerves and exhaustion, Stacey slid from the bed.

“Where are you going?” Ryan asked, his eyes shifting to her.

“Water,” she called back as she slipped into a pastel pink nightgown. “Want some?”

Ryan nodded. The sound of her footsteps padding into the kitchen were quickly followed by the sound of water coming from a bottle. When she brought it back, ice cold, she drank some before passing it to him. The sound of her phone sounded from the next room.

“Probably mom,” she mumbled. “I better answer it.”

“I can get it for you,” he said as he started to shift from the bed.

She pushed him back down. “I’ve got it. Relax.”

Ryan grinned as she walked away again. He loved how independent she could be, even if it drove him crazy occasionally. The sound of her searching for her phone reached his ears as he slipped into a pair of sweats that hung from his waist showing off a deep v.  She shifted something and the sound of something hitting the floor made him sit up straight. A few moments she walked around the corner with a small, black box in her hands.

“What’s this?” She asked breathlessly, her eyes wide.

Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t want to do it this way, but I guess it’s too late.” He slipped the box from her fingers before shifting down to one knee. “Stacey Cartwright, will you marry me?”

Stacey’s eyes had misted up. She nodded her head quickly as he took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. Her eyes lingered on it a moment or two longer as if she still couldn’t believe it, before she leaned down and kissed him deeply. He stood up slowly, wrapped his arms around her.

“I love you, Stace,” he whispered against her hair.

“I love you too,” she said as she pulled back.

When his lips captured hers, he knew they would be together for the rest of their lives. He didn’t expect things to get magically easier, but with her by his side, anything was possible. When they pulled away from each other, she had a wide grin on her face.

“I have to go call everyone!” She said as she placed one more kiss on his cheek before dashing out into the living room in search of her phone.

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll make us some food!” He called to her.

He headed towards the kitchen, peeking his head into the living room as he went. Stacey was sitting on the floor, hair spilling over her shoulders, admiring the ring in the sunlight. The phone rested on her knee. He’d never seen her so happy.

Ryan smiled.

The End

Chapter One

Cassandra Jackson drove her dark pink mini cooper down the desolate highway on the way to her new home.  It was just after midnight, and the countryside was dark as pitch.  As she drove she sent up a silent prayer that a deer wouldn’t jump out in front of her ending its life and quite possibly hers before she got that fresh start she’d longed for.  Her mini, as cute as it was, certainly was no match for a 200 lb. beast, ever. It was time to start anew in a new town, new home, new friends, and a get a new job.  That was the reason was driving down this long stretch of highway known as route 74.  

Cassie was certain were it daytime; the scenery would be breathtaking, and spectacular.  But this late at night, the only thing lacking on the highway were ghosts hitching rides from comely strangers.

Break-ups were supposed to be hard, but picturing Brad with his new hussy girlfriend made it a little easier.  Apparently, Cassie wasn’t good enough since she wouldn’t put out, unlike Gretchen who put everything out all of the time, to many, many people.  The bitter memory faded as she remembered the feel of that hunting knife in her hand as it slid into his $400.00 tires like they were butter: slicing them up was the perfect revenge.  A wonderful, albeit, evil goodbye present, something he’d remember her by for quite a while.  A sly smile spread across her lips at the memory.

With school a distant memory, and Brad left far behind, Cassie could feel that wonderful taste of freedom that lie several more miles ahead waiting for her with open arms.  She’d enjoy her new found freedom, settle in, get a decent job that she hopefully enjoyed, and quite possibly if someone was watching out for her, she’d actually fall in love and spend the rest of her life with the man of her dreams.  Or at least have some fun trying to find him.

After another hour or so of listening to the radio and driving, Cassie realized she hadn’t eaten much, was thirsty, a little tired, and had to pee.  According to Jezebel, the nickname she’d given her GPS once when it took her down the wrong road, she was about another 45 minutes outside of town, near her final destination.  Deciding she wanted a break from driving in the dark, she turned the mini around, and headed to the little bar/restaurant she’d seen about a mile back ‘Lucky Jacks.’

As she pulled her mini into the dirt parking lot, Cassie took notice of a dark blue, metal flake, 1947 Knucklehead Harley cycle, just like her dad used to ride.  From where it was parked, under the fluorescent light in the parking lot, it looked as if it should be in a showroom, not a dirty parking lot in the middle of nowhere.  She’d recognize that sleek design anywhere, with its unique fenders, customized leather seat, and chrome shiny enough to see your reflection in. Resisting the urge to climb onto it, and run her hands all over it like a shiny new pair of boots, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie just in case.  She remembered how much her dad loved his bike, and how he would take her for rides up and down their street when she was little.  That bike was a gorgeous specimen of power and pride: right down to its wired rims, she’d love to ride on one again.  Heading toward the door, Cassie took one more admiring glance at the beautiful piece of American pride, and opened the large wooden door leading into Lucky Jacks.

Numerous aromas assaulted her nose as Cassie closed the door behind her, French fries, smoke, beer, sweat, even the smell of BBQ, but mostly she smelled freedom.  Now if her eyes would adjust to the lighting, she could actually look around.  A moment later, she was able to take in the sights of Lucky Jacks.  Three felt covered pool tables stood in one corner, all occupied by various patrons.  An old fashioned jukebox stood in another corner, blasting out some old time rock n roll, and a digital dartboard next to it.  She didn’t seen any video games, but there were a couple of Foosball tables in another corner, and three HD TVs hung from various places around the area, all tuned into the History channel it looked like.  In the middle stood an L-shaped bar, made from mahogany maybe, she wasn’t sure, but it was nice, with bar stools surrounding it.

Behind the bar stood a chubby barmaid with a button nose, a purple streak running the length or her long, brown hair, and a smiling face that reminded her so much of her best friend Charlie back home, she couldn’t help but smile at her.

Walking across the wooden floor toward the barmaid, Cassie swore her smile had broadened even more.   

“Hi Sugar, new in town I’ll bet, I’m Chrissy, what can I do for you?”  She asked, her smile never fading.

“Hi, could you tell me where the ladies’ room is please?”  Cassie asked.

“Sure, take that hallway right there next to the jukebox, and it’s the first door on your left.”  Chrissy responded, wiping down the bar with a dishtowel, still smiling, more like the Cheshire cat this time.  

“Thank you Chrissy.”  Cassie turned in the direction she was told, and headed across the floor, her boot heels clicking behind her.  Just as she entered the hallway, she got an odd feeling that someone’s gaze was on her backside, and it wasn’t the cats’.