The Black Widow Clique

Home > Other > The Black Widow Clique > Page 11
The Black Widow Clique Page 11

by Genesis Woods


  Her phone going off again caused my gaze to shift down to her soft manicured hands. Images of her fingers tracing the thick veins on my dick and her thumb lightly brushing the tip of my mushroom head before she placed it in her sexy-ass mouth had me repositioning myself in my seat. My pants were already on the verge of busting at the seams. I needed to get my thoughts in order before I exposed her to something more than she needed to see right now.

  As Melonee looked at her phone’s screen, I could tell by the look on her face that whoever it was who was texting her was someone she didn’t want to be bothered with at the moment.

  “Boyfriend?” I asked, hoping her answer would be no. A small pang of jealousy surged through my body and settled in my chest at the thought of her belonging to someone else.

  Ignoring my question, Melonee began to text feverishly on her phone, a frown etched across her beautiful face. Even though she looked mad, her beauty still turned me on and again had my dick twitching against my leg.

  I kept my eyes trained on her as she went back and forth with whomever she was texting. A frown remained on her face, and every now and then her eyebrows would rise and then her eyes would roll. When she bit her bottom lip and smiled at something on her screen, that same pang of jealousy shot through my body again and had me reacting before my mind could catch up with what I was doing. I reached across the seat, snatched her phone from those delicate fingers, and powered it off, but not before seeing the name Proof flash across the screen and a picture of him and some little girl who looked like a mix of him and Melonee light up in the background. I wanted to ask her who the man and the little girl were, but I opted to save that question for later on.

  “You won’t be needing this for the rest of the evening,” I said as I tucked her phone in one of my pockets and poured myself another drink. “I don’t want anyone messing up what we have going on.”

  She turned in her seat and leaned back against the door, eyes ablaze and arms folded across her chest. My eyes traveled down to the sweetheart neckline of the purple gown she had on. It hugged the roundness of her melon-size breasts just right. A flashback of the night I first laid eyes on her at Club Decadence shot through my mind. Whether Melonee wore a string bikini or was totally clothed in an evening gown, her curves were enough to make any sane man go crazy.

  She cleared her throat. “My eyes are up here.” I shifted my gaze from her breasts to her face. A sexy smirk played on her lips. “Now that we have that established, may I please have my phone back?”

  My lips formed into a sly smile. “Please? I never pegged you for the type to beg.”

  She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, and I swear, my dick grew a few inches longer. I could tell by the way her eyes grew when she looked down at my lap that she’d seen my growth. It was my turn to smirk when she began to cough and grab her chest, trying to control her breathing.

  I took a sip of my drink and offered her my glass. With her eyes still on me, she snatched the tumbler out of my hand and downed the remaining alcohol in one gulp. A small laugh escaped my lips when she held the glass out for another shot. Obliging her request, I filled the tumbler up with another double of the brown liquor and watched her gulp that down too.

  “I get the sense that you’re nervous about something,” I said.

  She shook her head from side to side and then flipped the glass up to her mouth again, making sure she consumed every last drop. “I’m . . . I’m not nervous. Just a little curious.” She swayed a little and grabbed her head.

  “Are you okay?” I asked and gently grasped her arm, concern evident all over my face.

  She lightly patted my hand that was on her arm, and nodded her head. “I’m good. I just became a little dizzy, that’s all.” Melonee blew out a small breath and looked at the half-empty bottle of alcohol. “That’s some strong stuff. Where did you get it from again?”

  After picking the bottle up from the bar, I handed it to her. “My brother, Benji, gave it to me as a congratulations gift today. I closed a deal we’ve been trying to get for some time now.”

  Melonee placed the bottle back in my hand after examining the labels on the front and back. “That’s some good shit. My best friend would love it. It’s got me over here stuck and ready to go to bed.” When she laughed, something inside my chest fluttered.

  “Don’t go to sleep on me yet. We still have so much to do.” I gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand into mine, interlacing our fingers in the process. Something about our connection felt so right, and I knew she felt what I did the minute our hands touched. “Did you feel that?”

  Melonee observed our joined hands, then looked out the window. Although lit streetlights lined both sides of the street, you couldn’t see anything but utter darkness beyond them. We were passing the large sand dune in Malibu, which meant that we were almost at my home.

  “Have you ever regretted something you’ve done in your life, and wished that you could take it all back?” she asked all of a sudden.

  Her question threw me for a loop for a few seconds, because it was totally off the subject I was trying to be on. But when Melonee looked back at me with glossy eyes, my instincts had me pulling her into me and holding her in my protective embrace, forgetting all about what was going on between us. Something was weighing heavily on her heart, and everything inside me wanted to make it better for her. I kissed her on top of her head.

  “Honestly, I can’t say that I have. My life’s been pretty much planned out for me since the day that I was born. After my mother died, it was like my father started grooming me to be the man he wanted me to be. He knew that one day I’d take over his company, and he wanted to make sure that I was capable of doing so. I never really had much of a childhood and never really experienced life as a teenager. It wasn’t until I went away to college that I got to enjoy life a little bit. If it wasn’t for my best friend, Marques, dragging me to some of the campus parties or us spending summer vacation in Russia with my uncle Kazi, I’d probably be a thirty-one-year-old virgin with no type of game whatsoever.”

  Melonee laughed at my little joke, and again, something in my chest began to flutter. I could listen to the sound of her laughter for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. After the laughter died down between us, we remained in a comfortable silence, locked in one another’s arms, until we arrived at my house. José pulled into the circular driveway and stopped right at my front door. He jumped out and opened both back doors of the SUV. Melonee and I climbed out.

  “Wow, Roman. This place is beautiful,” Melonee said, complimenting me on my four-bedroom, three-bathroom beach home as we walked up the small flight of steps to the front door. After I pressed my thumb on the security pad and then quickly entered a four-digit code, the door unlocked, and with little effort, I pushed it open, then allowed Melonee to enter before me.

  “Oh my God,” were the first three words to leave her lips after her eyes landed on the surprise I had had my staff set up for her.

  * * *

  I looked around in amazement at the setup before me. Candles of different shapes and sizes were lit up all over the place, giving the room a romantic glow. The inside of Roman’s beach house was even more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. The ocean-blue, coral, and tan color scheme flowed perfectly throughout the house. Whoever had decorated this place was going for that Jamaican resort feel and had executed it very well. Pictures of ocean views and seashells lined the walls, while tropical ceiling fans with blades that looked like palm leaves spun above us.

  From where I was standing, you could see the waves of the ocean crashing along the beach, thanks to the fact that the walls in the back of the house were made of nothing but glass. Anyone passing by would be able to see right in here, but that million-dollar view of the Pacific at your doorstep was so worth any gapers. I was still looking around Roman’s beautiful home in amazement when his strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind and he pulled me into his hard chest. I didn’t kn
ow what it was about this man, but something inside me felt so at peace with him.

  None of the bad things I’d done in my past, or even the screaming match I had just had with Douglas’s daughter, Riana, seemed to matter at all when I was with Roman. Being in his arms just felt so right. These feelings I had for Roman kind of scared me in a sense, because I’d never been this comfortable with anybody, not even Proof. His ass had chased after me for some months before I even let him kiss me. Roman, all he had to do was touch any part of my body, and I was putty in his hands. I shook my head. Yeah, I didn’t know what all this meant, but I was going to live in and enjoy this moment for as long as I could, just in case it never happened again.

  “What’s on your mind, beautiful?” Roman whispered in my ear. I smiled at the goose bumps that had begun to tickle my skin. His voice alone was turning me on, and it wasn’t the alcohol that had me feeling this way.

  “I was just looking at your home and noticing how beautiful it is. I’ve always wanted to own a beach house, and looking at yours makes me want one even more.”

  Roman kissed me on my shoulder, walked from behind me, and then grabbed my hand. Those lips and kisses were going to be the death of me. “C’mon. Let’s go out to the patio. I had my chef prepare us something to eat, since we haven’t eaten yet.”

  Roman led the way to the patio, where a romantic dinner for two had been set up. The sound of the waves hitting the sand was the first thing I heard as soon as I stepped through the double-paned sliding doors. I hiked my dress up a little and kicked off my shoes, not caring about the coolness of the wooden deck under my feet. The smell of the purple hydrangeas in the centerpiece on the table mixed with the smell of the ocean and created a soothing scent that calmed my senses. The orange flames of the white dinner candles surrounding the floral centerpiece leaned to the left and flickered every time the wind kicked up. Roman pulled out my seat, and after I sat, he scooted me toward the linen-draped table.

  “I didn’t know if you prefer red or white, so I had my staff supply us with both.” He filled one wineglass with ruby-colored Merlot and the other with a sparkling Moscato. He placed both glasses before me.

  “Which do you prefer?” I asked as I picked up the glass of Merlot.

  “Neither really. That’s why I went back out to the car and got this.” He held up the bottle of brown liquor his brother had given him.

  I downed the red wine in my glass and then held the glass out to him. A slow smile spread across his face as he opened the half-empty bottle in his hand and poured me a shot.

  “I think you like this drink a little more than I do,” he said.

  “I’m surprised you like it at all,” I countered.

  He squinted his eyes. “Why would you say that?”

  I took a sip of my drink and placed the glass back on the table. I used the teal linen napkin to pat the corners of my mouth dry before I replied. “Because on the ride here, I think you said something about a Russian uncle in Russia, which leads me to believe that you have some kind of Russian in you.”

  He took a seat across from me, poured him a drink, and sat back in the chair, shoulders squared, his low gaze on me. I could tell by the way his knee was touching mine under the table that his legs were stretched out and slightly open. Thinking about the size of the dick print I had seen earlier, while in the car, I realized that sitting with his legs open might be what worked best for Roman. There was no way in this world that he could sit with his legs completely closed, working with a thing like that.

  His voice was low when he spoke. “My father has Irish roots, and my mother is Russian. But what does that have to do with what I like to drink?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I thought Russians like drinking only vodka.”

  The sexiest laugh escaped his throat after he finished off the drink he had poured himself. Roman licked his lips and kept his predator-like gaze trained on me. I shrugged my shoulders again and took another sip of my drink, trying to hide the way my cheeks were heating up from the blush I could feel coming on.

  “Vodka is the official drink of the country, but that isn’t the only thing Russians drink. Saying that is basically like saying all black people drink malt liquor.”

  I nodded my head and raised my glass to him. “Touché.”

  After staring at me for a few more minutes with that same sexy-ass hunting look, Roman removed the silver tops from our plates, and my mouth immediately began to water.

  “Let’s eat,” he said.

  Roman didn’t have to tell me twice. I picked up my fork and knife and dug into the delicious surf and turf dinner before me. Steak cooked medium, a lobster tail as big as my whole hand, asparagus tips sautéed in garlic and butter, and some of the creamiest mashed potatoes I’d ever had in my life. And to top that all off, everything was still piping hot, as if the chef had just finished making the food in the kitchen. I had just put the last piece of the perfectly seasoned and tender steak in my mouth when I finally came up for air.

  “You like?” Roman asked, chewing the piece of lobster he had just dipped in butter.

  “More than like. I love.” My eyes connected with his as soon as the words left my mouth. Roman’s jaw slowed down its chewing and then stopped as something unsaid passed between us.

  “Melonee . . .”

  “Roman . . .”

  We said each other’s name at the same time, smiles immediately gracing our faces. I waved my hand for him to continue, but he nodded his head to me, as if to say, “Ladies first.”

  I cleared my throat, then took a sip of my white wine. I needed a little bit more of this liquid courage to get through what I was about to say. After clearing my throat again, I gathered the little bit of nerve I had left and opened my mouth to speak.

  “Roman . . .” I shook my head. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I don’t how you’re going to take this. Obviously, there’s something between us. I feel it, and I know you feel it as well. For the past couple of years, I’ve been feeling like there was something missing in my life. I mean, I’ve had a couple of relationships in my time, but they’ve never made me feel . . .” I wrung my hands, trying to find the word to say.

  “Whole,” he said, finishing my sentence for me.

  “Yeah, whole.” I nodded my head and smiled. “I’ve been telling my best friend this for the past few months, and all she ever does is laugh at me whenever I bring it up. Fee doesn’t believe in love or being in love, for that matter, so I knew she’d never understand the way that I felt. But you . . . It’s like you get it . . . like you get me, and we don’t really fully know each other yet.”

  Roman grabbed my hand in his and kissed the back of it. That gesture was so small, yet meant so much to me. My eyes became misty.

  I went on. “I don’t know what this is that’s going on between us. Maybe it’s fate or the biggest mistake we will ever make.”

  He smiled, and my heart fluttered.

  “Whatever it is, though, however we decide to figure this out, I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.” I took a huge breath, then picked up my glass of liquor and drank the rest of it. If I was about to tell him that I actually knew who he was, and if I was going to reveal why I knew this, I wanted to be past drunk, since I figured he would kick me out of his house, leaving me stranded and brokenhearted. I took another deep breath, then focused my eyes back on his. “Okay, so you know earlier, when I told you that I didn’t know—” I began, but I was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I turned mine off the same time I did yours.”

  I watched as Roman patted his pockets down until he found his ringing phone. When the loud noise stopped, he looked up at me and smiled. Only to frown when the phone began to ring again.

  “I apologize, Mel. Let me take this right quick, and I swear we won’t be interrupted again.”

  I nodded my head, relieved, since I needed some time to think about what I was about to tell him. Rom
an stood from the table and walked to the edge of the dark patio.

  “What?” he barked into the phone, with his back turned to me.

  I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but I could make out bits and pieces.

  “Tell him I’ll see him and Mom on Sunday for brunch.... I don’t care, man. Why is that any of your business? Do not come to the beach house.” He looked at me over his shoulder, and I smiled. Whatever the person on the other end of the phone had said must’ve pissed him off, because at that moment he turned back around, another frown etched across his sexy face, and lowered his voice. “Tell her I said hello. . . . No . . . because she’s nothing but a gold-digging bitch, and you know I despise women like that.... All right . . . I’ll get with you later.... I’m not being rude.... Yeah. . . bye.”

  I watched as Roman’s back expanded when he flexed his muscles. Even with the white dress shirt he had on, I could still tell that his body was ripped with muscle underneath. When he turned back to me, he had a smile on his handsome face again. He turned off the cell phone in his hand.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, reclaiming his seat. “We shouldn’t have any more interruptions. Now, what were you saying?”

  Romans words about despising gold diggers kept ringing in my mind. Even if I explained to him what the Black Widow Clique was all about, I had no doubt that he would still see me as the one thing he hated the most. My palms began to sweat, and my heart began to beat at a faster pace. Did I tell him everything and hope for the best? Or did I go ahead with the change of plans Fiona had texted me about earlier, before Roman snatched my phone away and turned it off. I thought back to the texts Fiona and I had exchanged.

  Fee: WYA? Did you find the car?

  Me: Yes and no.

  Fee: ???

  Me: I found a car, but it didn’t have my purse in it.

  Fee: Okay. So what was in the car you found?

  I hesitated for a second, trying to decide if I wanted to tell her the truth or not, but Fiona and I had never kept secrets from each other, so I told her what I had found.

 

‹ Prev