Babygirl and the Mean Boss

by Pepper Pace

  Nicole examined the substantial movie collection and decided on the Sixth Sense. It had been years since she’d seen that one.

  He returned with iced tea and microwave popcorn. “Good choice.” He said when he put in the DVD. Then he sat down on the couch next to her. “Put up your feet if you want.” He kicked off his shoes and got comfy. After a moment she slipped of her own and did the same.

  Nicole had forgotten how spooky the movie could be and she caught herself jumping a couple of times. Marty laughed at her and she hit him with a pillow, completely forgetting that this was the boss that she had recently considered an asshole.

  “Double Feature?” He suggested when the movie was over.

  “Okay.” She got up and scanned through his movie library again, stopping suddenly with a gasp. “No you don’t!”

  “No I don’t, what?” He asked.

  “No you do NOT have THE PLAYERS CLUB sitting in here!”

  “I’ll have you know that Bernie Mac played the hell out of that movie.”

  Nicole put her hands on her hips with a scowl. “Oh? So it wasn’t the naked women?”

  “Put in the movie, Nicole, and I bet you I can recite every one of Bernie Mac’s lines.” She put the movie in…and sure enough he did. Nicole laughed so hard that she had to hold her stitches. When Marty mimicked Bernie’s line about white women not wanting to dance for the white man unless they got paid, and then Marty actually had the audacity to scream ‘TITTIES AND ASSES,’ Nicole literally cried.

  “Marty, have you ever dated a black woman?” She asked when she finally wiped away the last tear.

  Marty loved the sound and sight of her laughter. “No. But I’ve liked a few black women.”

  “Scared?”

  He chuckled. “No. It just didn’t happen, either I was involved or they were.” His eyes lingered on hers. “What about you? You ever date a white guy?”

  Nicole’s brow furrowed that the script had gotten flipped. “Oh, um…yes.” The look on Marty’s face was priceless. He was shocked. “He was an Italian guy I knew a long time ago. Maybe you wouldn’t call him white, but…”

  “Who was he?” Marty leaned forward intrigued, wanting the entire story.

  “Tomas…It was a long time ago.” She didn’t say anything else but Marty watched her intently willing her to continue. “I was twenty-one and I lived in…” She caught herself. ”an apartment that his Mom owned. She loved me.” Nicole smiled in remembrance. “She fed me Italian food…real Italian food--not just pasta and marinara, but fish and scallops and stew. Did you know that? Italian food is more than just spaghetti and meatballs?”

  Marty nodded smiling slightly. “What happened between you and Tomas?”

  “Oh, I had to go home.” Marty noticed that she was trying to hide her sudden discomfort. “My Mother died and I had to go home. I planned to go back to Italy but…things didn’t turn out that way.” She realized her slip and quickly met his eyes hoping he hadn’t. No such luck.

  “Nicole, you lived in Italy?” Again he was surprised.

  She shrugged uninterested. “How did we start talking about me? What about these women?”

  “What do you want to know?” He leaned back against his comfy couch and continued watching her.

  “Tell me what they looked like?”

  He smirked. “Are you asking me what I find attractive about black women?” She blushed. Yes, she was asking that.

  “It’s not in the color.” That wasn’t the complete truth. He always thought the contrast in color was enticing, however Marty had little interest in dark or light skinned. Nicole was caramel; neither dark nor light. But he would give his left nut just to see if her nipples colored pink or brown against her creamy flesh…”I liked two women who were black. I didn’t like them because they were black.”

  “Okay. Point made.”

  He reached for the remote control and put the movie on pause and then he looked at her again. He was dying to ask her about Tomas, and about her living in Italy but knew that she was closed to the topic. He did have other things that interested him, though. “So now that you asked me, let me ask you. What attracts you to a man?”

  The question caught her off guard. “What attracts me?” Flipped script again! “Well…I’m attracted to a man that’s patient, kind, strong-”

  “What about looks?” He was staring at her with those piercing grey eyes of his.

  “Uh…Big guys. I’m a big woman. I have to be with a big guy.” Quickly she clarified. “Uh…you know, muscular-” Shit! That had come out all wrong.

  “Facial hair?”

  “Yeah, I like facial hair.”

  “Long hair, short, shaved?”

  “Shaved head is cool.”

  “Tats?”

  She licked her lips. “I like tats.”

  “Piercings?” He shot back.

  “It depends where.”

  “Where do you like them?”

  “One ear only. No nipple or brow or facial piercings.”

  Marty stroked his goatee. “Are you hungry?”

  “Huh?!” She jumped a little.

  “Ready for dinner?”

  He watched her innocently while she contemplated why she had just sat there and described the man that attracts her…and it turns out to be a description of him! She gave him a suspicious.

  “Um, sure.” She answered even though she wasn’t hungry after the large lunch, and popcorn. It was just hard to look into his sexy grey eyes and not agree with everything he said. That conversation had been strange and slightly sexy which left a pleasant tingling between her thighs.

  “What sounds good?” His voice was a slow sexy drawl. God, was he doing that on purpose? “We can do Indian, Chinese, Italian-”

  “Indian?” She asked curiously.

  “Do you like Indian?”

  “I’ve never had it.”

  Marty’s mouth curved in a slight grin. “Oh what sights I have to show you.”

  He had such a beautiful grin. Nicole found her eyes glued to his mouth. She jumped up. “I’ll be back. I’m going to use the bathroom and take my medicine.” More than anything she just needed to collect herself.

  When Nicole was washing her hands she studied her reflection in the mirror. The soap began to dry on her hands as she took in the damage done to her. The sight of her face made her ill. Her eye was no longer closed but still swollen and discolored. Her bottom lip was split but healing with a crusty looking scab. Her normally luxurious curls were kinky and dry-looking. Her outside finally matched her insides...

  When she left the bathroom her mood was decidedly somber. Marty held up a menu, smiling. Then he noticed her expression and his smile faded.

  “Nicole, what’s wrong?”

  She sat back down on the couch. “Nothing.”

  “Nicole?”

  She touched her face. “I didn’t know I…looked so bad.” She thought the scar on her lip might even be permanent.

  “Baby Girl, you were just hit by a car…and you don’t look bad.” Marty rubbed his shaved head contemplating something and then he mumbled. “I think you’re beautiful.”

  “What? You think I’m beautiful—you’re nuts!” Even before the accident Nicole thought she was just okay—not beautiful.

  “Okay…I’m nuts, you’re not beautiful, I just want to eat. Now can we decide on what’s for dinner? I’m starving!”

  Nicole chuckled slowly. This time it was Marty that looked at her suspiciously.

  They decided on what to eat and Marty called the order in. He gave her a funny look.

  What?” She asked touching her hair.

  “Are you going to be okay while I pick this up? Or, why don’t you com-”

  “I’ll be okay. I’ll watch the rest of The Players Club. Just…” She looked around. It was starting to get dark. “Make sure all of the doors are locked?”

  He picked up his keys. “Okay, I’ll just be a sec.”

  Nicole turned the TV back on after h
e was gone. Then she sniffed under her arm. She could use a shower. She left the TV on and went upstairs. In her bag she found a denim, button up dress that should be easy to get into and best of all bra and panties.

  Nicole sat on the edge of the bed and took off the sling with just a little trouble.

  She gasped at the stab of pain when she moved her arm. She tried to rotate her shoulder but it was still very sore. She had to pull her good arm and then her head through the shirt. Only then was she able to slide it off her bad arm.

  She opened the bedroom door and peeped down the empty hall. She hurried to the bathroom, found spare towels in the closet, and then ran a steaming shower. It felt so good.

  She examined the tape on her belly. She was going to have to change the dressing.

  Nicole let the hot water beat onto her shoulder and it loosened enough for her to raise her arm midway. She washed quickly wanting to be dressed when Marty returned.

  She dried off careful of her sore spots, wrapped the towel around herself and hurried back to the bedroom. She put on deodorant, slipped on her panties with no trouble, but struggled with the bra. Her hand was too weak to hold the clasp so that she could hook it.

  “Shit!” She cursed and tossed the bra on the bed angrily. Nicole picked up the dress and carefully slipped it onto her bad arm. But once she got both arms through, she had another dilemma…how to button. It was damned near impossible to keep the thing closed over her considerable bosom and to button it with one hand.

  “Damnit!” She cursed again.

  “Nicole?! You okay?” Marty was calling from the other side of the closed door and she saw the knob turning.

  “Yeah! Hold on.” She struggled to get the first button closed one handed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh…nothing. Hold on-”

  “Why are you cursing if nothing’s wrong? I’m coming in.”

  Marty opened the door just as Nicole clutched the dress closed in front. He appraised the situation and then frowned in annoyance.

  “I can’t believe you took a shower when no one was here.” He stalked to her and she felt herself wanting to take a step back. But all he did was to kneel down to help button her dress from the bottom.

  “Nicole, you could have slipped, blacked out…”

  “You’re treating me like a baby, Marty,” she spoke quietly.

  He looked up at her, pausing. “You can’t even get your dress buttoned. You are somewhat helpless right now.”

  Nicole jerked away from him angrily, still clutching her dress closed in front. “But you don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child!” She looked down and tried to button the rest of the dress which meant her cleavage was popping out of the top of it.

  After a moment Marty sighed. “I’m sorry. Let me help.” He continued buttoning her up and Nicole refused to meet his eyes and he did the same. She noted his hands trembling slightly when he brought the material closed over her breasts.

  Nicole stared at him surprised. He acted so calm and cool, and could flirt and put her on edge, but it was pretty obvious that he felt something being so close to her and now the tables were turned.

  When Marty had her all buttoned up he turned to leave and something got to Nicole. She didn’t know what exactly drove her to it, maybe it was because he had chastised her, or maybe it was just seeing his trembling hands excited her.

  “Marty.”

  He turned, giving her a questioning look.

  “Bandages. They got wet and need changing. I’d do it but…I’m so helpless.”

  His expression went apologetic. “Okay.” He gathered the dressing for the bandages while she sat on the edge of the bed. Again he kneeled in front of her as she one by one undid the buttons starting at the middle and working her way up slowly.

  He watched her, almost mesmerized until there was only one button left fastened at the top—straining to keep everything in. She lay down on her back which must have seemed like a very inviting position.

  Marty audibly swallowed and spread the material to reveal the wet bandage. When he peeled the edge off the tape, Nicole braced her tummy.

  “I’m sorry. It’s probably going to hurt.” He worked the tape away carefully and with much consideration. “Okay?” He peeked at her and she nodded. When the bandage was removed he gently applied salve.

  “How does it look?” She asked, straining to see.

  “It looks good. Healing good.”

  “Do you think it will leave a scar?”

  Marty’s eyes met hers. “Yes, but at least you’ll be alive.” He put fresh bandages on and carefully taped her up.

  When Nicole sat up that last button at top finally popped loose and her breast spilled out of the dress.

  Marty froze, his eyes glued to the sight of her beautiful breasts. They were full, what people paid thousands to get, she had naturally. And yes, her nipples were chocolate kisses against her caramel skin. Still kneeling in front of her, he reached up shakily. If there had been ropes tied around his wrists he still would not have been able to stop himself from doing it. Instead of closing her dress like he should have, Marty carefully placed both hands over her breasts.

  Nicole caught her breath and felt an electrical charge between her thighs that matched the hardening of her nipples. She heard Marty groan as they tightened into hard peaks and prodded at his palms. He allowed his hands to softly stroke her breast, thumbs favoring the rigid brown aureoles and nipples. Nicole’s eyes fluttered closed as she groaned, too. Her pussy was swelling from the almost forgotten sensation of being touched.

  His dick had grown so hard so fast that it actually hurt! His dick had never ached like this before! He wanted to pull her legs up in the air and shove his dick into that beautiful pussy that he’d seen days before when he’d accidentally lifted her blankets.

  He grabbed the material of her dress roughly and buttoned her closed. Then he met her confused eyes.

  “I should have never done that.” He shook his head and rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, Nicole. Let’s just go downstairs and eat.”

  Nicole felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water at her. She had practically thrown herself at this man—and he had ended it. She could have buried her head under the pillow and hid for about a weak, but in the end all she could do was to nod silently, speechless, and then followed him downstairs.

  Marty stormed down the stairs. He was so angry at himself. It hadn’t even been one night and he was all over her! All he had to do was control himself while she was here, so that she could trust him and he could take care of her. That was all that he wanted and he could barely stop flirting!

  It wasn’t that he didn’t have feelings for Nicole; real, legitimate, solid feelings. He just didn’t want to confuse things. He didn’t want a girl friend, a wife, and not even a lover that he had to work with her. That was just asking for trouble and he did NOT need to fuck where he worked. Why was he fucking this up?! He was attracted to her, obviously she was attracted to him, did he need to keep poking at it??

  When they got to the kitchen he silently spooned basmati rice, saag paneer and then curried chicken onto two plates. She watched him in painfully uncomfortable silence. He moved about the kitchen silently opening a foil wrapped flat bread that was still steaming. It was like a repeat of hours before when he avoided her look. She tried to think of something to say to remove the tension.

  “Mmmm. That smells good.” She went to the refrigerator and took out a pitcher of iced tea, filling their glasses as Marty took his seat, focusing on his plate of food. She sat down next to him.

  “Chutney?” He asked.

  “Who is that?”

  Marty shot her a look then he burst out laughing.

  “What is so funny?”

  “Chutney is…relish. Although it does sound like the name of a 16 year old pop star.”

  Nicole grinned. “Shit.” He spooned a sampling of three different chutneys onto her plate, still chuckling. She glanced at Mar
ty and he was looking at her and just like that the two were again at ease.

  The smell of the Indian food was foreign and she wasn’t sure how she’d like it. But after her first tentative taste of the lightly spiced food she realized that it smelled stronger then it tasted. There was a creaminess to the sauce that mellowed out the flavors.

  “Oh,” her eyes got wide. “I really like this.” She mimicked the way Marty tore a piece of bread and used it to scoop up the food. Marty seemed pleased that she enjoyed it. He enjoyed watching her enjoy it. Down boy, he thought silently as his semi-erect dick began to twitch. It wasn’t all about how much she turned him on. It was equally about just seeing her open up. She had been so closed to him for so long. He equated her to a blooming flower and regardless of anything else, just to see her like this was worth everything.