As Time Goes By: A BWWM Interracial Romance (9 page)

XXX

 Election day, finally here! Arnold was jubilant. He had
weathered David’s mud-slinging, and, according to the polls, was bound to be
elected as Detroit’s new mayor by a landslide. The fact that Marg had been
outed as his girlfriend, and held up as his fiancé, never seemed to hurt his
chances, but if anything, having her by his side seemed to uplift him in the
numbers based on every poll they took. The press in general, and voters in
particular, seemed to be enamored with Marg and her past struggles with
unemployment, unpaid bills, and an inability to be able to afford an education.
A well-meaning Detroit citizen had even set up a fund raiser to raise money for
her financial woes, and she was astonished when the organizer of that fund
suddenly handed her an astonishing thirty thousand dollars. A major university
was now even offering to give her an honorary doctorate degree. Things were
definitely going her way.

 The temperature was not as nippy as in recent days, and
with spring right around the corner, Marg twirled in circles around the ice
rink near city hall with Arnold on her arm, beaming over the fact that there
had been such an outpouring of love and enthusiasm toward both herself and the
man of her dreams. Still, it irked her that although their relationship was hot
and heavy in the sex department, he didn’t seem to be moving any closer towards
proposing. They were still making love most days, setting aside hours at a time
for the heavenly task. She was now so much in love with him that she no longer
cared what happened to her or even if he popped the question. As long as he
kept her by his side, and didn’t trade her in for another woman, then she would
be gloriously happy. Besides, she knew in her heart of hearts that she still
held some secret cards close to her impressive chest. She was secretly
pregnant. But she was now starting to show. It had been a full seven days since
they’d made love, but Marg was certain she could no longer hide from his
perceptiver gorgeous eyes, the tiny coconut pushing out of her belly. Even her
face was starting to look fatter, and the glow was almost like a sheen.

The press followed them from the edges of the rink as they
spent the next hour, arm in arm, skating in circles. She thought it would look
good on the election day news casts, and as usual, was dead on, with people
commenting non-stop about what a great couple they made.

 Still, there were some loose ends the press had had from
the beginning with Arnold’s assertions months earlier that Marg’s mother had been
correct in saying her daughter and Arnold were engaged to be married. One
astute female reporter had been quick to ask why it was that Marg was not
wearing an engagement ring if indeed her boyfriend had popped the question.
That led some in the press to wonder if the engagement was even real.

 The thought kept rattling around in Marg’s brain. It was a
miracle that more reporters hadn’t noticed or commented on her lack of
engagement ring. And it wasn’t as though the unfolding weeks had managed to
produce one. Her finger was still woefully ring free.

 She was beginning to feel numb. The day of reckoning was at
hand. Arnold was about to become officially the new Mayor of Detroit. And
although she had played a major role in putting him there, from this day forth
she would be left on tender hooks. They both knew she was hopelessly in love
with him and could never leave him even if she tried, but would he still want
her around? It seemed unthinkable to her that he might not feel the same way
about her. He had still been adamant, in conversations after her brief hospital
stay, that he did indeed love her. Only she still had no ring, and that was
despite him lying about being engaged to her, and despite him being under
pressure to produce such a ring. Still, she had to suck it up and face the
reality of it. No amount of pressure had caused him to slip that damn ring on
her finger, and now that he had what he wanted, would he suddenly surprise her
and cough up such a ring? If he hadn’t of done it then, why would he do it now?

She tried not to show her anguish as they went from the
skating rink, to vote with the press entourage in tow, with Marg joking that
she may not be voting for her man after all.

From the voting booth, they went to a café for lunch, but
Arnold could tell something was definitely bothering her. And he suspected what
it was. The election was finally over, and she was afraid he might not be in
love with her as much as he had previously let on. The scare of a looming
breakup haunted her fragile mind. If he were going to dump her anytime soon
then she was going to come apart at the seams and have that nervous breakdown
she had narrowly avoided weeks prior.

 He said nothing all through lunch, merely watching her
brood as the thought of him possibly betraying her, festered in her heart and
mind like some despicable cancer.

 She started to sulk in earnest and supress the tears as her
mind wound round the facts and the linguine in white cheese sauce wound round
her fork. From the age of eighteen she had dated men in all shapes and sizes,
although with her stunning looks and sparkling personality, most of those men
were the crème de la crème! But that hadn’t helped her get married to anyone,
and now, a full fifteen years later, she was in danger of losing perhaps the
greatest love of her life. If not now, then perhaps sometimes soon. Would he
really break up with her after all they’d been through? She suddenly watched
his eyes, still so attractive yet still so unreadable. It was anyone’s guess as
to what was actually lurking behind those gorgeous green peepers of his. She
was at his mercy, and would woefully remain there until he told her of his
intentions one way or another.

 “The elections’ not over for a few hours,” he whispered,
making unabashed eye contact with her. “It’s been a week since we’ve made love.
I would really like to get you in my arms before we have to go to campaign
headquarters when the final results come rolling in.”

 She managed a smile, but could feel herself becoming
unglued. When it came to men she felt she was under some kind of fucking curse.
She had fallen for at least thirty men over the last fifteen years. Because of
her amazing face and body, men had constantly come on to her, professing
undying love and making heavenly promises. But such love had long since
evaporated, and the promises that had come with them now dissipated into mere
wisps of long forgotten dust. After they had gotten what they wanted, and after
they had receive their fill of her glorious body, they exited her life without
warning or recourse, leaving her to wallow in her misery and become even more
desperate in the future. It was a vicious circle that seemed to keep playing
itself over and over. There was no indication that things would be any less
tepid or brutal where Arnold was concerned.

 Even more telling, was his declaration that he wanted to
have sex at least once more with her before the final votes were tallied. What
was that? Like some kind of last meal for a condemned prisoner? With her
wearing the stripes and facing the execution squad?

 “You read my mind,” she managed, trying not to let her
whispered words seem like a whimper.

 “Are you okay?” he said, sensing her inner turmoil.

 She ignored his concern, but still acted casually. “We
ordered desert already, but we can have them bag it and take it with us,” she
offered.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

She nodded that she was, but didn’t vocalize the fact that
her and the baby were just fine.

She glanced at the wall mirror to the side. Her face was a
little puffy. The baby had caused her to unconsciously eat more. She had therefore
put on some weight and she knew from having gotten dressed this morning that
the baby he had planted in her belly was definitely going to show the very next
time he would see her naked.

She began to get goose bumps. Not only was his request for
lovemaking getting her juices percolating, but the fact that she was about to
pull a pregnant rabbit out of a hat was also front and center in her mind. He
had no clue that she was carrying his child, but he was about to find out. At
least that would give her some leverage to keep him around if indeed he were
contemplating doing the unthinkable, and that was to dump her sorry ass in the
trash can and then move on to a more palatable, wholesome woman, perhaps
someone who had milky white skin, was still a virgin and smelt of freshly baked
cookies. But whatever was going to be the eventual outcome, the fact remained
he would never escape her completely unscathed, and she had the emerging
tell-tale baby bump to prove it. Whatever was to happen, the moment of truth
was about to arrive.

 They walked arm in arm to the car, with him stopping among
the army of reporters to plant a moist passionate kiss onto her love starved
lips. They had gone a whole week without getting under the sheets, and they
were both filled with pent up lust.

 He opened the door for her, and ignored the camera flashes
and rolling film. The skating rink, voting booth and restaurant scene had been
staged, but he had asked the press not to follow him home. They could find him
later at campaign headquarters, where he had already promised he would be
completely accessible to them. They accepted his trade off request, and didn’t
bother following him home. They all knew the rules. Piss off Arnold now, and be
forever denied access to him once he took over the mayor’s chair.

He pulled out of the parking lot with her head leaning on
his shoulder.

She teased him by resting her hand on the growing bulge
under his navy blue suit pants. It was quite a hard on, making her flush and
aroused.

The fifteen minute drive back to his mansion seemed to last
only for seconds. She was excited beyond belief. She was finally going to let
him see for himself what she had been so expertly hiding from him the last few
months, and that was the result of him getting her under the sheets in the
first place.

 He pulled into the driveway then rounded the cul-de-sac.
When he stopped she was trembling. How would he react? Would he be happy? Would
he turn on her?

 He opened the door for her and she got out tentatively. He
was about to see her naked for the twenty-fifth time, but now with an expanding
baby bump for the very first time!

 He put his arm around her waist and helped her up the
concrete steps.

 “You still haven’t rummaged through my ex’s things to see
what you’d like for yourself?” he managed, looking to make light conversation.
She seemed to have retreated into herself somewhat and definitely had something
on her mind.

 She said nothing but rather reached up with her mouth and
pressed it against his lips. Then she snuggled closer. Whatever was going to be
was going to be. As usual, she had put all her eggs into one basket, and was in
danger of having them all come crashing down on her stubborn skull, but it was
too late to change things now.

 He held the door open for her and she walked through,
kicking off her shoes and abandoning her coat as the door closed behind her.

She scampered into the living room and slid the drapes
closed. If there were snooping cameras prying, they wouldn’t be catching
anything if she could help it. Then she dimmed the lights.

“Not upstairs?” he asked, used to the drill.

She took off her blouse and yanked away her skirt. She loved
the feel of a man’s warm rippling body against hers. And Arnold certainly had
the amazing musculature to turn her on and blow her mind.

She wasn’t willing to wait. She helped him off with his
coat, then his sports jacket, then his silk t-shirt. The sight of his body made
her drool.

She snapped off her bra and her breasts filled his eyes with
their firm oversized glory.

It was his turn to pant.

She moved close, and gently ran her red painted fingernails along
his stomach muscles, then arched up on tippy toes, kissing his mouth with
wicked passion.

When they finally broke free, she took his hand and led him
to the couch, sitting him down next to her. She then mounted him by anchoring
her slender silky smooth legs on either side of him. She was just about to
lower herself over his iron hard erection when he finally spotted it despite
the dimmed lights.

 “What’s that?” he asked, shaking like a leaf.

 “What’s what?”

 “You know what I’m talking about. That bump pushing out of
your tummy. Are you? Well, are you…you know?”

 “Am I what?” she teased, willing to make him fumble and
trip over his words. She could tell he was in absolute shock. But he didn’t
seem angry like she supposed he might be. Rather, he almost seemed like a lost
child, trying to gain his bearings.

 Her coy smile and guilty eyes told him what he needed to
know.

 “You hid it from me all this time?”

 She shrugged. “That was part of the reason I fainted and
threw up. And that was part of the reason I landed in the hospital that time. I
wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to feel obligated or trapped. I was
hoping that our relationship would somehow blossom and that you would propose
to me without knowing a baby was on the way.”

 He smiled, and a cloud of apprehension lifted off of her.

“You’re not angry?” she asked.

It was his turn to shrug. “My ex-wife couldn’t give me
children, although I’ve always dreamed of being a father. Look in the candy box
on the table,” he whispered, his eyes showing off a mischievous sparkle.

Her heart began to pound. He always kept a box of her
favorite chocolates on the coffee table. Only now, he was hinting there was
more to that box than just chocolates. There was something inside of the box,
obviously something he had planted there, something he was hoping she would
find. She loved the Belgium dark chocolates, and ate them ravenously whenever
she came over and they made love in the living room. She would have found
whatever he had hidden there even if he had never mentioned it. So what then
had he hidden? A ring perhaps? She ripped off the lid and stared in awe at the
square ring sized box inside. What else could it possibly be?