Scandal: Crossing Boundaries (Scandal Series #1 INTERRACIAL ROMANCE)

by St. Claire, Jean

  Copyright © 2013 by Jean St. Claire

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  WARNING: This book contains adult situations, explicit sexual content, and profane language that could be considered vulgar and offensive. Reader's discretion is advised.

  Join Jean's Mailing List for future releases and special offers! No Spam!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  "This math problem is too damn difficult!"

  Looking up from grading her students' papers, Keisha Johnson held in an exasperated sigh. This damn heffa Lyneesha was giving her the breaks, always complaining about the easy math assignments being too hard when the difficulty level had already been lowered significantly.

  She was fed up, but of course she knew better than to speak her mind.

  "What is the problem Lyneesha?" asked Keisha in her professional voice.

  "Everything," the big girl growled, the lopsided twigs on her head making her look like all my life I had to fight. She glared down at the paper on her desk, her cherubic face creased into a frown."You made this shit impossible to do."

  Glowering at the dark-skinned Precious look-a-like in disapproval, Keisha sharply said, "Watch your mouth Miss Jones. I don't know how many times I've had to tell you about how cursing is inappropriate in this classroom."

  Several girls around the classroom looked up and let out giggles, distracted from their exam.

  Keisha could not be sure, but she thought she heard the nappy-headed girl say under her breath, "You ain't my momma hoe."

  Lord Jesus, give me strength, she prayed.

  She about had it up to her neck with her job of two years. All she ever wanted to be when she grew up was a teacher. It was what drove her through school and pushed her to get her college education and degree.

  But lord, she had no idea what a stressful and thankless job it would be to teach math to a bunch of underachievers.

  Now with her husband's promotion coming up, Keisha began to wonder if all the stress was even worth it, dealing with bad ass kids, day in day out, with their nasty ass mouths while also having to deal with her triflin ass co-workers.

  She was just turning thirty and had matured to the point where she felt like a grown woman. She did not need nobody talking crazy to her and thinking they could get away with it just because her position demanded she be polite. The stress of not being able to say what she wanted when the little heathens got out of hand with their disrespect, was driving her absolutely wild.

  They just don't know, she thought with a shake of her head. If I could beat their asses with those big ass switches off them trees outside...I would.

  Tossing her dark curls behind her and smoothing her pearly blouse, Keisha rose from her desk, making her way over to the big hussy, her black heels clicking against the glossy floor. "Just tell me what you need help with," Keisha told the girl quietly.

  Lyneesha must not have been washing her head good, because Keisha could see the dandruff lining her scalp like snowflakes.

  "This one right here," the big girl said, pointing at her problem.

  Keisha had to hold back a shake of her head. The problem was one of the easiest ones on the quiz. The girl had no chance of passing.

  Instead of learning curse words, she needs to be studying her damn study guide and learning how to clean her dirty scalp.

  "May I see your pen?" Keisha asked the girl. There was no use letting her completely fail the exam. It would only end up reflecting badly on Keisha. She was sure the GPA average in her classroom was at an all-time low.

  The girl looked down at her fat paws for a second before handing it to her. When Keisha wrapped her fingers around it, she almost dropped it with disgust. It felt like it was covered with grease.

  And I'm going to have to wait until lunch time to wash my hands, too.

  Leaning over the girl's desk, she had to hold in her breath from the ratchet smell of hair food the girl greased her scalp with. Then a fainter but more pungent smell reached her nose a second later, causing her to frown.

  Oh, hell no. This heffa up here calling me a hoe, but don't know how to wash her hole? What a damn shame.

  Sucking up her disgust at the fishy smell, she began working out problems for the girl, almost giving her the answers in the process.

  "Do you see how to do it now?" asked Keisha hopefully when she was done writing down the examples.

  Staring down at her paper with a pleased smile, Lyneesha nodded. "Yes. Thank you Mrs. Johnson."

  "Alright. If you need any more assistance, I'll be happy to help." Keisha turned away, her fake smile morphing into a scowl, eager to get away from the smelly child.

  "Yeah baby, why don't you come by later on? My dad ain't gone be home. We'd have the joint all to ourselves."

  Keisha snapped her head around before she could get back to her desk, holding in a groan. "Dante put the cell phone away please." She had no idea who the boy could be talking to while in the middle of school. Logic dictated that the person on the other end of the line either was a school dropout or was someone much older.

  Keisha did not like either possibility.

  "Yea," Dante said to whoever was on the other end of the line, taking the cell away from his ear, "hold on a minute." Then he nodded at his paper that was most-likely filled with wrong answers. "I'm done with that shit."

  Sucking in a deep breath, Keisha said as calmly as she could, "Just because you are done, does not give you the right to disrupt the rest of the class while they are trying to concentrate. Not to mention, cell phone usage is not allowed during class, only in case of an emergency."

  "But it is an emergency," Dante protested with a smirk, the gold chain winking at his neck. "An emergency of my big, black dick."

  The classroom erupted with laughter. There went their concentration for their quiz.

  Why is this nigga trying me?

  Placing her hands on her hips, she glared at the ornery boy, who was dressed in his usual baggy pants and too-large t-shirt, pointing a stern finger at the door. "Put the phone away Dante, or get out of my classroom."

  What you really need is the black whooped off yo ass.

  Dante shook his head, his smooth, chocolate face twisting into a scowl. "Dang man! Always gotta be fuckin with a nigga." Then into the phone he said, "I gotta go. I call you back when I get out this boring motha fucka."

  Keisha stood there for a moment, wondering if she should further reprimand the boy for his foul language.

  What good will it do? she thought. He's not going to listen. He'll stop for a second and be right back acting a damn fool.

  Sighing, she returned to her desk, counting the seconds until lunch break. When the
bell rang, the kids were all too eager to rush her desk, literally throwing their papers onto it.

  Ten minutes later, in the faculty lunch room, her day worsened when she overheard the usual shady gossip.

  Poised right outside the storage room door that was adjacent to the lunch room, peaking through a crack, Keisha got more than an earful.

  "Girl, I can't stand her uppity ass," a social studies teacher, Shandi King, was saying to a woman Keisha could not see. She was holding a cup of steaming coffee, dressed in some slacks and yellow blouse, her facial expressions animated. "Walking around here like she bout it just because she got long hair that she wears natural."

  "Mmmhmm," came the reply.

  "I wanna be like, fake bitch, so? Just cause you wear it natural all the time that makes you special?" Shandi made a face that made her look uglier than she already was. "Motha fucka I been natural since ninety-one! Now what?"

  "Girl, you know she probably got weave tracks in there somewhere. All that hair ain't real." This woman sounded like Janelle Goodman, an English teacher. "She just want people to think it is. She ain't foolin no damn body."

  I know these two bitches ain't got the nerve to be talking about me, with they broke down looking asses.

  "Yeah girl," Shandi nodded, egged on, "running around here with that internet degree. Make her ass take one of those quizzes she be giving her students and watch she fail it like a crack pipe set in front of a recovering crack whore."

  Janelle laughed, her giggles sounding like a hyena sucking helium. "Umm mmm. Girl, you know it. I don't know how she wound up with such a fine ass husband. I wouldn't put up with her for two seconds if I was him."

  "Girl, please," Shandi said, "you know he probably cheating on her ass like her students be cheating on their tests."

  Both women started laughing like what Shandi had said was the funniest thing in the world.

  The sound of the lounge door opening sent Keisha scrambling for the sink, nearly tripping on her heels along the way.

  "Girl, I am so glad it is lunch time," said one of the faculty members as a slew of female teachers strolled into the room. "I was about to eat one of them damn chillrun."

  The group of ladies chuckled, heartily agreeing. Then they went about grabbing their lunches out of the refrigerator and heating it up in the microwave, and in seconds, were seated at the lunch table, gossiping about the latest scandals involving their students.

  Washing off her greasy hands at the sink, Keisha felt her stomach rumble at the smell of food. She was ready to eat too. But then she remembered; she had forgotten to bring lunch from home.

  And ain't no way I'm bout to ask one of these gossiping hoes for any of theirs.

  Nor did she think she had the time to make it to a drive-thru and back before her next period.

  "Hey Keisha girl!" greeted Shandi from behind Keisha. "Girl you look good today."

  You lying, two-faced ass, shady ass bitch.

  Putting on a fake smile while wiping her hands off with a paper towel, Keisha turned around with, "Hey girl, and so do you."

  Shandi stepped up beside her at the sink, taking a strand of Keisha's hair and rubbing it between her fingers. Keisha fought down the urge to slap her hands away and smack Shandi upside her raggedy ass head.

  "You got that good hair," Shandi murmured with fake wonder, tugging on the strand as if she expected it to come out. "What do you do to it to make it grow so long?"

  Holding back a nasty retort, Keisha said politely, "Nothing much. Just wash it, put some conditioner in it and go." She had told the bothersome woman this numerous times already since working at the school. Jealousy and disbelief must have kept her coming back with the same question.

  Born to a seventy-percent Native American mother, all of Keisha's luscious hair was hers. She could not help it if Shandi and Janelle were mad cause they looked like Flossy Mae's cousins.

  Before Shandi could continue with her fake questions, the door to the lunchroom swung open.

  "Good afternoon ladies," said Demarion King smoothly, Hawthorne High's principal. He was dressed in his usual, a business suit and tie. His hair was brushed down with pomade, lending it shiny waves.

  In his mid-forties, Demarion was just okay looking and nothing special in Keisha's eyes, but she knew the man thought he was a lady slayer.

  "Good afternoon," most of the women responded cheerfully, giving the man their best smiles. They'd give up their pussy to the man too, if they thought that meant a promotion.

  The sharply dressed principal swaggered over to the refrigerator and took out a large brown bag, pausing when he saw Keisha standing with Shandi at the counter.

  Looking directly into her face with a grave expression, he asked, "Keisha, can I see you in my office for a minute?"

  Oh lord what could he want now?

  It must have been something bad because he usually sat with the ladies and chatted up the entire lunch break.

  With a worried look on her face, Keisha followed the principal from the room to his office, which was just two doors down. On her way out she could've sworn she heard Janelle whispering loudly to the other women, "Her ass is in big trouble now."

  In the office, Keisha settled down in a cushioned seat across from the older man, trying not to look too anxious.

  Demarion dug into his lunch bag, pulling out a shiny, red apple. Picking it up, he bit into it, the crunch sound assaulting Keisha's ears. After a moment of chewing he said, "I looked over some recent reports on the students enrolled in your math program. I'm sad to say that none of their GPAS have risen. In fact, some have gotten worse."

  So this is what this is about.

  Leaning forward, Keisha said imploringly, "Mr. King, please let me explain. The children come into my classes with the worst of attitudes. I try to do my best with them and help the best I can...and since I am not allowed to really discipline them, I don't see how their attitudes can improve. But that is not even the beginning to the root of the problem. I truly believe that it all starts at home. Until our people can do better by themselves and their children, I don't know how it can get any better."

  Nodding his head nonchalantly while he chewed, Demarion murmured, "I see. Well, you know we can't let the report go out as it is. It's bad enough that most of the Cook County is falling behind in every area in comparison to the 'good side' of our city."

  Frowning and sitting back into her seat, Keisha said, "With all due respect Mr. King, I don't know if I'm comfortable with what you're suggesting."

  He was quick to shoot back. "And the school board is not going to be comfortable with the GPA average that is coming out of your classroom either." Placing his chewed apple down on his desk, he pressed his hands together. "But I can easily fix the problem for you...provided that you are willing to go the extra...mile." The gaze he shot her way was very direct.

  Is this motha fucka for real?

  It was all Keisha could do to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. While she knew Demarion was a constant flirt with the nearly-all-female faculty members, she'd never have expected a man of his position to go this far.

  Glancing unsteadily at his wedding ring, and the picture frame of the happy family on his desk, Keisha asked, "Can you clarify what you just said Mr. King?"

  Because surely, I did not just hear that.

  Demarion slowly rolled his seat near the window and reached behind himself, pulling the blinds closed. Then he glanced down at his expensive dress slacks, calmly waiting with expectation.

  Anger flared up into Keisha's chest when she realized that this wasn't just a joke or a crazy dream. Who did this high-water nigga think she was? He must have had her twisted if he thought for one minute she'd give him head so that he would hide her students grades to make himself and the school look good.

  Not to mention his wife and kids. He ought to be ashamed of his damn self.

  Maybe ten years ago, a low self-esteem Keisha, fresh out of high school, might have fallen for such a trap
, but not the Keisha of today. No M'am.

  Besides, Keisha thought angrily. I got a man with a good job whose about to be making more than this uppity nigga right here. I don't got to deal with this bullshit.

  After two years, she was tired of it...tired of it all. This was just the icing on the cake.

  Jumping to her feet, Keisha angrily snapped, "You can keep that damn report and get ready to find a new math teacher." All sign of her proper speaking voice had vanished.

  Sensing her fury and the fact she wasn't going to fall for his demand, Demarion held up his hand defensively, "Now hold on just a minute Miss Johnson—"

  Smacking a palm sharply against his oak wood desk, Keisha cut in, "No you hold on a minute, nigga! It's Mrs. Johnson, not miss. You forgot I was married? Because apparently, you forgot that yo ass was!" It felt good to finally cut loose for once, say what she felt.

  "Now you just being unfair," Demarion protested. He looked worried now, probably thinking that she was going to file some sort of sexual harassment lawsuit.

  And I just might, shit.

  But Keisha had nothing else to say to the lecherous man, "I'll be sending in my resignation papers as soon as possible, and you, those messy, hatin ass, poor excuses for teachers AND them bad ass kids, can all kiss my ass! And as of right now, I'm out of this raggedy ass motha fucka!"

  Spinning around and ignoring Demarion's protests, she snatched open the office door...and was nearly bowled over by Shandi and Janelle who had been leaning against the office entrance, listening outside.

  Sidestepping the eavesdropping teachers and moving out into the hallway, Keisha haughtily tossed her hair in their faces, throwing a yell over her shoulder, "And every inch of hair on my damn head is real, you jealous ass bitches!"

  When she walked out the front doors and down the steps, she left the school with an immense feeling of liberation coursing through her body and a dreamy smile upon her face.

  Chapter 2

  "Suck that big dick, gurl," Davonte moaned, rubbing his hand through Maria's dark hair, guiding her head in the right directions. The sounds of slurping filled the bedroom while the wet mouth went back and forth over the hard dick that was sticking out of black-silk boxers. "Take all that shit."