One Night: A BWWM Interracial Romance

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One Night: A BWWM Interracial Romance Page 10

by Camilla Stevens


  “Oh my god,” she gasped. “I…I don’t know why I did that. Please, please don’t tell Wright.”

  Jake nodded and slid further away from her. “Don’t worry,” he said, “we can just pretend this didn’t happen, okay?”

  She nodded gratefully, moving back over to her side of the booth dejectedly.

  The last thing he wanted was any sort of complications like this in his life, and he certainly didn’t want to get the poor woman fired for one tiny bit of indiscretion. He looked at her again as she stared down at her hands. If he was any other man he would have happily taken advantage of the situation. She was cute and eager. Heck, even one year ago he would have. These days, he had only one woman on his mind.

  Maybe visiting Los Angeles would be a good thing. Maybe he’d see Natalie again. Maybe he’d finally get her out of his system.

  NATALIE

  “Hey, there’s our muse!” her father yelled as she quickly got out of the car to open the trunk. She rolled her eyes, just imagining what the ride home would be like.

  Right now she just wanted them loaded in the car. She was double parked right outside the baggage claim at LAX and wanted to move before the notoriously ornery L.A. drivers started ripping her a new one. She quickly hugged them both and grabbed her mom’s suitcase, carefully avoiding eye contact with either of them. In just 5 minutes they were loaded and seated and she found an opening to get out and head up to the 405 freeway.

  “So…you brought the book back, right?” she said casually, looking at her dad out of the corner of her eye.

  “Oh, darn honey,” he said shaping his fingers and looking back at his wife, “I knew we forgot something. I think it’s sitting right on the nightstand of our hotel. Some poor maid is probably getting all hot and bothered read—”

  “Ha, ha,” Natalie said with overt sarcasm. “Where is it?”

  “Stop teasing her, honey.” Her mother scolded. “I have it in my bag, Natalie.”

  Natalie’s eyes shot up to her mother in the rear view mirror.

  “So, how embarrassed should I be?” she asked, part of her didn’t want to know the answer.

  “Natalie,” her mother said laughing a little. “Stop being silly. It’s a book, a fictional book. You should be pleased he thought enough of you to base a whole character on you! And after what appears to be just one-night?” she let the question hang.

  Natalie chose not to enlighten her. Instead she thought about what her mother had just said. It had only been one-night…and now she was a “muse.” A tiny part of her was pleased after all. Had the sex been that good? Maybe she shouldn’t be all that upset at Jake.

  She’d save her forgiveness for the final page of that damn book.

  As soon as Natalie got back to her own apartment, she flung her purse on a chair and flopped on the couch to open the book. She opened the back cover to give Jake "Steele" Cavanaugh a seething glare then flipped to the front.

  To Natalie, Thanks for keeping me warm that night in Tahoe.

  She cringed as she remembered her dad reading the line in the car. Then she shook her head to hunker down and pore through the book. She had to focus and pay attention to every single detail of the novel. This was her on that page.

  The storyline wasn't her typical fare, but as Jake weaved the tale of Nick Zane and the threat to the British Parliament, she become absorbed in the plot. It was actually a pretty fun and exciting read. Kind of like watching a Jason Bourne movie come to life on the page.

  Then Naomi Davidson made her appearance.

  Natalie tensed when she saw the name. Then she read the description of the woman.

  “…full, luscious lips that Nick had the sudden urge to suck on…”

  “…one long, smooth, brown leg was crossed over the other swinging the stiletto heel up and down…”

  “…brown eyes…”

  …dark hair falling just past her smooth, slender shoulders…”

  So far it was pretty generic. Other than the blatant shout out in the dedication, which thankfully hadn't included her last name, there was really no way to tell that Naomi was a replica of Natalie.

  She read on, beginning to actually enjoy the story of Nick and Naomi, which was far more exciting than Natalie's own dull existence. Things were starting to get steamy between the two protagonists after spending the better part of the novel filled with sexual tension. Natalie bit her lip wondering how Jake wrote Naomi's sexual adventures compared to her own night with him.

  The description of her body was rather flattering:

  “…beautiful breasts that filled his eager hand perfectly….”

  “…a soft, flat stomach that he wanted nothing more than to rest his face against for eternity….”

  “…an ass to kill for….”

  The last was a bit blunt but she'd take it. She smiled to herself.

  Then she paused at the next line: a tattoo of wings placed temptingly where the small of her back met the round smooth skin of her derriere. Natalie gasped. She went on to read in detail the very same story about her drunken escapades when she and her friends graduated college (in Naomi's case "uni").

  That thieving bastard!

  Granted, the story wasn't exactly a unique one. Many a regrettable tramp-stamp occurred after spur of the moment drinking, the urging of friends, and celebratory milestones. Still, this was her tramp stamp.

  She wanted to snap the book shut then and there, but continued on—into every detail of her night with Jake. Even the hazy parts came back to her as she read on. There was the vodka episode, which she was expecting so it didn’t surprise her. Still, on paper it was rather more…erotic. He was being a bit gratuitous with how wet he had actually made her…wasn’t he? Did she really moan out his name that much? And she was absolutely certain she had never referred to him as a Sex God.

  By the end of the scene, Natalie felt like she had been fucked by him all over again.

  This time she really did shut the book closed, but not before noting the fact that she wasn’t even half way through. Hopefully that was the one and only little bed time tryst between Nick and Naomi.

  Who did this Jake Cavanaugh—correction, Jake Steele—think he was?

  She threw the book aside and opened up her laptop. She googled his name, his fake name. There was an author page right on Wright Publishing’s website.

  Jake Steele, a former C.I.A….blah, blah, blah. She skimmed past the commercialized version of the man she knew. There was a part of her that was secretly pleased to know that she knew him better than even his most avid fans.

  Then it caught her eye. He was going on a book signing tour. A book signing tour that ended in L.A. Natalie noted the dates and sat back with a smile.

  The book she had was already technically signed…but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make an appearance. She was his “muse” after all.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JAKE

  Turn on the charm. Most of the people that come to these book signing events are women.

  Terri Dodson had stressed this point. Looking at the line in front of him Jake could see that they were right. It was his first book signing tour and he hadn’t been sure what to expect but he was rather pleased by the turnout in the cities he’d visited thus far.

  The announcement that the latest Nick Zane novel would be made into a movie had, conveniently enough, come right before he hit Los Angeles. The line in this bookstore was twice as long as the one in Seattle had been. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  However, these were the people that put a roof over his head so Jake buckled down and sweet talked them, making sure to include titilating innuendos in his personalized autographs that were safe enough for their great-aunts to read.

  “What.

  The.

  Hell.

  Is the matter with you?” a voice growled above him.

  He looked up and was immediately shocked at who the speaker was.

  “Natalie?” he exclaimed, leaning back in
his chair with surprise.

  Her eyes winced shut as she exhaled in irritation.

  As if suddenly realizing his mistake, Jake gave her an apologetic smile and shrugged. Oops!

  “Oh my god!” said a middle-aged woman behind her. “Are you the Natalie…as in Naomi, Natalie?”

  “Oh Caren, get this on your phone. I’ve never seen a real live muse before!”

  Jake stared up at her. Even with her face lit up with anger, she was just as beautiful as he remembered. More so. Her eyes were wide with indignation. The mouth—that delicious mouth—was slightly parted ready to give him another dose of outrage.

  Over the past few months his memory of her had morphed into a sort of idolatry, focusing mostly on the details of her and their one-night tryst that he favored the most. Part of him wondered if the reality would live up to his increasingly glorified mental image of her. He hadn’t ever expected to meet her again, so he was fine with his rose-tinted perfection, often returning to it when he wanted release. Now here she was standing right in front of him.

  And she was pissed.

  “What in the world were you thinking?” she seethed. “Natalie, my muse? The inspiration for Naomi?”

  He desperately wanted to talk to her. He was enjoying this little display, but he was interested in hashing this out in private. Especially with half the crowd recording everything on their phones. Without saying a word, he stood up, grabbed her by the arm and walked her away to a corner of the store.

  “Jake!” yelped Terri, giving Natalie a nasty look. “You have a line of—”

  Jake held up one finger, indicating he’d only be a moment which stopped any further protest on her part. That, and the greedy smiles of the crowd that was perfectly fine waiting for their signed copies. This little show was far more interesting.

  He walked Natalie to the end of on aisle of books, despite her zealous protests to let go of her arm. The crowd could still see them in action but they were hopefully too far away to hear anything. He pulled her around to face him and let his eyes roam over every inch of her face.

  Her anger momentarily ebbed as she stood only inches away looking up at him just as searchingly. Then she seemed to recall why she was here and took one step back, the flames coming back to her eyes.

  “My parents, read that book you sent!” she said to him through gritted teeth.

  Jake’s face twisted in surprise. “You gave that book to your parents?” he asked her in shock.

  He vividly recalled the note he wrote underneath the dedication. It didn’t leave much to the imagination. He couldn’t help it as his face broke out in a smile imagining the scenario between Natalie and her parents as she tried to explain it.

  That only made her beautiful face even more inflamed. “It’s not funny,” she said, slapping him on the chest.

  “Don’t tell me they have any illusions that you’re still a virgin,” he said with a teasing smile.

  She gasped, not expecting that kind of response. “How dare you!” she said. “Don’t you talk about my parents.”

  “You’re the one who brought them up,” he replied, the smile still plastered on his face. He was enjoying this.

  She closed her eyes in frustration, trying to calm down. Finally she opened them and gave him a piercing look. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “I did,” he replied, simply.

  “Don’t be coy,” she retorted. “I mean…this book, this…Jake Steele?”

  Jake shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always liked my privacy. Being anonymous.”

  “Yes, it is nice, isn’t it?” she said sarcastically. “Unless of course it’s ripped away from you.”

  “Oh come, now,” he said, teasing her again. “How many people would actually put you and Naomi together?”

  “For Pete’s sake, you included the damn tattoo!” she spat.

  “And how many people are lucky enough to get to see that?” he asked, moving in seductively.

  She leaned back in surprise, putting a hand to his chest. “Well...way to be original, by the way” she snarked, obviously flustered by his proximity to her. “You couldn’t use your imagination to come up with your own heroine?”

  “Why ruin perfection?”

  She ignored that as a new flame came to her eyes. “Speaking of which, you had to write…” she looked around to see if anyone was in ear shot, then continued in a whisper, “everything we did that night?”

  “So you read it?” Jake asked, pleased.

  “Yeah,” she confessed. “Frankly, I should be getting royalties! It was basically an exact replay of everything...even the whiskey.”

  “It was too good not to use,” he said, his smile growing broader.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she retorted. “It wasn’t all that great.”

  “That’s not what it seemed like the next morning when you kissed me.”

  “Kissed you!” she said, outraged all over again. “For the record, it was you who kissed me. And no, that wasn’t all that great either.”

  “Well let’s rectify that,” Jake responded. Before she could spout another word, he wrapped one arm firmly around her waist and brought her in for a kiss.

  It was just as enjoyable as he remembered, maybe even better due to the heat rising from her skin. He took advantage of her momentary surprise to dart his tongue out of his mouth and slide it along the lips that were pressed open against his.

  Her body was pressed against his and it felt warm and soft. She fit so perfectly into his arms and body. Her hands had flown out to her sides when he grabbed her and now began the work of coming up to his chest, gently pushing at first, then easing into stillness as she felt the passion of their kiss overtake her.

  A cheer rose up from the other side of the bookstore and Jake slid his eyes to his right to see the commotion. A larger crowd had developed and they were yelling and clapping in enjoyment as the two stormy lovers came together in an impassioned embrace.

  Natalie obviously saw it differently. The hands immediately went back to pushing him away, more forcibly this time. Her body strained against his strong arms futilely. After a moment he gave in and relaxed, allowing her to pull away from him as gracefully as possible.

  She looked at the crowd, each person with a smart phone in their hands, and her face grew red. She looked back up at him and he thought he would melt from the heat that radiated from her eyes.

  “Screw you Jake...Cavanaugh, or Steele, or whatever your real name is!” she yelled.

  With that she slapped him across the face and stormed off.

  He brought a hand up to his face, to ease the sting. It hadn’t been a hard slap, but the feeling lingered.

  Jake was too preoccupied by another thought to focus on the pain. He smiled. She had actually remembered his real name.

  He was brought out of his reverie by Terri, who was one very unhappy camper. She watched Natalie storm off with death rays in her eyes, then turned back to Jake trying to draw his attention back to duties at hand.

  “We should really get back to the signing table, Jake,” she said running an arm through his and guiding him back to his post.

  “Ohhh, that was so romantic!” squealed the first woman back in line. “I know you’re going to go after her right?” she said with a wink.

  Jake thought about that. That was a pretty good idea....

  NATALIE

  Natalie wasn’t sure where to go from the bookstore so she sat in her car, rehashing what had just happened. She could feel that her face was still red from embarrassment.

  Why in the world had she come?

  If the world had no idea who she was, they certainly would now, if all those camera phones were any indication. She could have just left it alone, or reached out to him via email or through his publisher or something. But no, she just had to show up in person.

  Why??

  She had wanted answers. What in the world inspired him to use her of all people as inspiration for a new character?
He had literally known her all of 12 hours. The night had been great but not that great.

  Okay, the night had been pretty great. But still??

  And why make Naomi so, so much like her? At least physically. Naomi was definitely more sophisticated. She wore leather jackets and high heels not stretch pants and UGGs. She knew exactly what to do and say, and she certainly didn’t wake up with hangovers that made her nauseous. More importantly she was cool under pressure. Naomi would have never stormed into a bookstore to confront her nemesis.

  If Jake had any illusions that Natalie was anything like Naomi, today had certainly taken care of that.

  But it wasn’t just answers she had wanted. Part of her couldn’t deny that it was because she wanted to see him again. She had even made her appearance slightly nicer than her usual Saturday fare: A black knee-length dress with sheer paneling along the sleeves and hem; black espadrilles laced up her ankles. A far cry from the baggy sweatshirt and stretch pants she had made her first impression with. Her hair was neatly pressed with the ends curled and she had thrown in blush and lipstick instead of her usual lip gloss.

  Now that he wasn’t Jake Cavanaugh, the stranger across the fire, but Jake Steele, internationally best selling author, she wanted to see if he was any different than she remembered.

  The days-old stubble was gone. So was the whiskey tinged gleam in his eyes. He was in much nicer clothes than the t-shirt and pajama bottoms he’d worn up in Tahoe. These differences only made him that much more attractive. Damn him!

  Now she just felt remorse for the absurd show she’d put on. She had actually slapped him! Right across the face. Right in front of everyone.

  Natalie brought her forehead to the steering wheel.

  “No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head as if it could erase the past 20 minutes of her life.

  Just then she heard a loud rapping on her driver’s side window. She jumped in alarm, raising her head to see who it was. She was startled to see it was Jake, bending down and making motions for her to roll down her window.

 

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