Ms. Perfectly Imperfect: BBW BWWM Interracial Romance

by Roxy Wilson

  When he parked in front her apartment building, he got out and opened her door. “Layla, we should go out soon. How about dinner tomorrow?”

  She’d promised him that they would and frankly, she was ready. “Sure. Pick me up at seven.”

  The kiss caught her by surprise. Desire, wild and strong, careened through her system and slammed into her heart. She wanted more. This wasn’t enough. Her arms snaked around his neck and she held on while her body melted against his. It felt great to be held by a man who cared. Yes, she still felt self-conscious about her hair loss, but now Layla felt like a woman again.

  When they separated, she touched his lips. Although she longed to ask him to join her for light snack, her mother was still at home and she definitely didn’t want to answer her questions about Clint.

  “See you tomorrow, Layla.”

  With reluctance, she stepped away and went upstairs. Now, there was so much more to look forward to. Her treatment was about to start, and she had a new friend, one who was worth her time and effort.

  Chapter Seven

  Fall in love with someone who falls in love with your flaws and thinks you’re perfect just the way you are. ~Brigitte Nicole

  When Clint rang the bell, Layla was ready. She checked her reflection in the mirror one last time and literally skipped over to open the door. She wore a Persian red, smocked tube-top maxi dress. Her size nine feet were encased in a pair of open-toe, wedge sandals, complete with an ankle buckle closure. He daintily polished toenails, were painted in beige, a neutral shade, which accentuated the color block sandals, which were of various shades of red and white. “Hi.”

  “Wow! You look amazing.” Clint leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. He handed over the white tulips he held in his hands. “For you.”

  “Aww! How sweet. Come in.”

  Clint walked in and surveyed the place. “Nice apartment.” He pointed to the picture hanging on the eastern wall. “Is that a Leonardo print?”

  “Yes, it is. Can’t afford the real thing, so it’s a good thing to look at when I feel down.”

  “Yeah, I’m a huge fan of his.” He turned when he heard the tip-tap of Mary’s heels.

  “Hello.”

  Taking out the vase from a cabinet, Layla filled it with water. “Clint, this is my mom, Mary Turner. And mom, this is Dr. Collins.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Tuner.”

  Mary pressed her lips together in a fine line. Layla had already told her about her break up with Gage, but she didn’t seem very happy to see that her daughter had already moved on. She sniffed. “You’re a doctor?”

  “Clint works in the General Hospital in the Pediatric Oncology department. He’s a specialist.”

  Mary frowned as she watched her daughter put the flowers in the vase. “Layla, I’ve decided to shift back home. You’re obviously doing well now.”

  “No problem, mom.” Strolling over, she hugged her mother. She would never tell her mother how badly upset she’d been that night when Mary mistook her for Layla’s father. “Thank you for coming to stay with me. I’ll come back early enough to help you pack.”

  “I’ve already done it.” Mary ran her hand over the countertop. “I’m going to leave after you.”

  “Okay mom. Take care.”

  After bidding goodbye to her mother, Layla left with Clint.

  “I didn’t know your mother was staying with you,” he said.

  Layla was glad things were working out fine. Mary was a disturbing element in her life, but she did love her mother and wanted them to have a good, solid relationship. By not confronting her about that incident, she actually did a lot of good. Perhaps on some level, Mary realized the harm she’d caused her daughter and didn’t want to do it again. “She was here for a few days,” Layla finally said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “So, where are we going?”

  “I’ve got booking at the Plaza.”

  “Ahhh…Nice choice. I love their food.”

  He smiled. “Good then, I’ll cancel the alternate booking at Bellagio. Unless, you prefer to go there.”

  She laughed at his enthusiastic response. He really seemed to be keen on making her happy. It was such a change from her past relationship that she didn’t quite know how to respond to it. “The Plaza, I think.”

  As they drove to the restaurant, they made small talk. It just seemed so easy to talk to Clint. He was knowledgeable about many topics. She liked the way he could switch from subject to subject without a pause. She’d thought doctors were driven and focused while lacking time to read much, but he acted quite well aware of things that went on in the world. She appreciated this as another great quality about him.

  Once they were seated in the restaurant, he ordered quickly after consulting with her.

  “So, how are things in the hospital? Have you found out anything that’s causing problems with your treatment?”

  He frowned. “I’m working on it. Actually, I think I may be close. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that I can deal with the problem before I lose another patient.”

  She held his hand. “I’m sure you will. Clint, I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you so dedicated to your patients.”

  He glanced down at their linked fingers. “Takes one to know one. Layla, I’m impressed with your courage.”

  She let go of his hand, feeling a little embarrassed by her direct words and actions. It astounded her to realize she actually felt comfortable enough with him to say all these things without thinking ten times about them. “Look at us talk. We sound like a mutual admiration society.”

  “That’s a healthy start for a relationship.”

  A relationship? Since when did they jump from a date to a relationship? Her heart thundered in her chest as she realized that it felt so right the way he said it. She should’ve been devastated by her break-up with Gage, but instead Layla considered it the best thing to happen in her life. It led her to Clint, and also it saved her from making the worst mistake possible. “So, what’s your favorite place in New York?”

  “Hmmm! That’s a question that could take days to answer.” He smiled. “As a die-hard New Yorker, I have to say that I love everything about this city, but of course, Central Park is the one place that always brings a smile to my face.”

  “I like going there too,” she admitted. “Another favorite haunt of mine is the—Hudson River.”

  “—Hudson River,” he said at the same time.

  Together, they burst out laughing. “I guess we like a some of the same things.”

  For a few, intense seconds, their gaze clashed, until Layla looked away.

  Clint cleared his throat, which served to break the brief moment of awareness. He reached for his glass. “It’s a pity you’re not a doctor. I bet you would have been good at it.” He took a sip of water.

  “I never considered medicine as a career.” Layla chuckled. “Too much studying and frankly, I got into modeling relatively easy when I compare it with how difficult others have had it.” She mimicked his gesture and took a sip of her water. “My mother sent my pictures for a contest when I was twelve. I got selected and started getting small jobs, and then finally, I got a major break.” She smiled. “For now, it’s enough that after years of online studies, I eventually completed my bachelors in business management.”

  He gazed at her for a long moment with a smile on his lips

  When the waiter brought their appetizers, they both dug in.

  “Um, I shouldn’t ask…it’s none of my business…but I sensed some awkwardness between you and your mother.”

  Sometimes, Layla felt as if he could delve in her heart and read the emotions. “You’re right.” She took in a deep breath. For too long, she’d suppressed her feelings regarding her mother, focusing instead on her work. She never felt comfortable telling Gage everything even though they were a couple for so long, but somehow it was easy to tell Clint. She told him about her mother’s state of mind, her past, and the connection she made betw
een Layla and her father the other night.

  “So that’s why you were in the hospital? You wanted to avoid going home?”

  “Yeah, something like that, and I’m glad that I met you that night.”

  Across the table, he held her hand. “Your mother’s demons don’t have anything to do with you. You’re nothing like your father who deserved to be thrown in jail for what he did, but his crime has no bearing on your personality…or your life. Your life is your own, and you should live it the way you want. And as far as your hair is concerned, let me tell you that with or without it, you’re beautiful.”

  His gaze flitting across her every feature, felt like brief, loving touches.

  “Your eyebrows are beautifully arched, and I can tell you didn’t have to tweeze or wax them to hell and back to get them that way.” His fingers glided softly across each eyebrow. “And your lips, Layla…they tempt me every time I look at you.” He smiled in response to her gasp of surprise. “Like now, I want to kiss them, but I won’t. At least not now…not yet.”

  She could feel the warmth of his fingers seeping in her hand, traveling across her veins, straight inside her heart. No man made her feel as if she was special in quite this way before. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”

  He let go and they resumed eating. Instead of continuing the conversation, he switched to another topic. Probably he realized that she wouldn’t be able to talk more about it. “So what about your soap manufacturing plan?”

  She laughed out loud. “I can’t believe you remember that. That was just talk. I don’t think I would ever be able to do it. I’d thought that I would get into a lot of trouble when people began to know that my hair was falling out, but much to my surprise, I have gotten a lot of support from odd corners. Photographers, makeup artists, and even some models have come up to me and told me that I shouldn’t worry about this.”

  “There are a lot of good people in the world.”

  “You’re right, and you’re one of them.”

  “Now, you’re trying to flatter me.”

  She gave him a winning smile. “You’re probably right.”

  He rolled his eyes and they both laughed.

  As they continued to talk, she was amazed that nothing seemed to faze him. For a long time they talked, laughed, and ate. When the dinner came to an end, she was actually sorry about it because they were having such a good time.

  “Would you like to come to my house to see Mr. Rufus?”

  She tapped her foot on the pavement as she eyed him. Was this an excuse for him to get her inside his apartment? “Mr. Rufus?” She shook her head. “I have heard some good lines before but that one is just…” She laughed. “…Strange as all hell.”

  His eyes rounded as he got her joke and he chuckled. “My cat! Unless he approves of you, I don’t think I’ll be able to go out with you again.”

  More laughter sputtered out of her lips. “Why? Is he your dating consultant?”

  “Yep! And he’s very strict. He has definite ideas about the kind of woman that I should date, and if he doesn’t like you, we may as well call it quits right now.”

  She stared into his eyes. The storm of emotions that coiled in their depths startled her. She could sense he liked her a lot. Sure, their chemistry was off the charts but did she want to get involved with a man so soon after a breakup?

  She really should say no. They shouldn’t do this. “Yes,” she said even before she realized that she intended to acquiesce. Damn it! He must be a wizard. Slowly, he was casting a spell on her that was proving harder and harder to break. But did she really want to escape his web? Layla wasn’t sure.

  The only thing she felt confident about was that she didn’t want to let go of this opportunity. She wanted him with a desperation that shocked her. It was getting harder to fight her attraction to the good doctor, and suddenly she didn’t want to do it anymore. Walking over to his car, she waited for him to open the door. She settled in.

  Now, Clint drove the car with an intense concentration.

  Silence reigned. There were no more words between them. The need was too great, and it could only be expressed in one way.

  When they reached his apartment, he parked the car and led her upstairs. The two flights up to his apartment seemed to take forever.

  As soon as they stepped inside, and he closed the door, he drew her in his arms. Yanking her body hard against his, he pressed his hard muscles against her soft curves. His lips found hers, and she opened her mouth to accept his tongue. His hands roamed over her body, as their lips remained fused.

  The kiss was hot and fiery.

  She could feel the passion that spiraled in his veins. It matched hers. She didn’t want to wait anymore.

  He lifted her full-figured frame almost effortlessly.

  It really took a real man who could handle a woman of any size, she joked silently.

  Clint took her to his bedroom.

  All she saw was a mahogany, four poster bed, two matching chairs, and a large TV on the wall before he laid her down. Their clothes came off in a flurry of movements. Layla raised her hand to her wig, hesitant, uncertain. What would he think about her bald head? She still had some stubble, but without the wig, he might think she was ugly. As if all the sweet, yet seemingly earnest words he’d whispered to her at the Plaza, had been forgotten, she paused.

  As if understanding the fear that coursed through her veins, he bent over her. “Layla, you’re beautiful, alluring. I think of you like that and there is no way, no how, anyone or anything can change it.”

  She still couldn’t muster the courage to take her wig off. Not now. Layla left it on.

  He nodded his head as if he understood the internal struggle she wrestled with.

  On the one hand, she wanted to believe his words, but on the other, it was still a bit difficult to shake off the way Gage had made her feel…so small, so insignificant, so ugly, when he found out about her condition.

  Clint didn’t say anything, instead, his lips found hers.

  When she nipped his bottom lip in between her teeth, he let out a groan.

  His hands found her breasts and squeezed.

  The desire that undulated inside her was strong and healthy.

  Trailing a line of kisses down her throat, he took one nipple in his mouth.

  Her body arched as a current of pleasure zipped through her veins. Her hands skidded over his smooth, lean back as she enjoyed the way his muscles rippled under the tips of her fingers.

  Flicking his tongue over her nipples, he gave them new life. Slowly and gently, he caressed each hard bud until they were swollen and aching with need.

  She wriggled under him, breathless with desire.

  His erection pushed against her taut stomach. Burying his face in between her breasts, he inhaled deeply, as if trying to revel in the fragrance that emanated from her body. His mouth moved over her breasts, fondling and caressing them.

  She loved it.

  Layla ran a hand down his body until she found his hard, long length. When it twitched between her fingers, she felt her own passion turn into a storm.

  In response, his hand slipped down until he reached the curls that guarded her moist centre. His finger slid into her warmth. Rhythmically, he moved his finger in and out and she bucked under him.

  An orgasm ripped through her body, careening inside her like a storm that she had no control over.

  Removing his finger, he took the opportunity to reach for the foil package on the bedside table, ripped it open with his teeth, and slipped on the latex protection, while Layla took big, shuddering gulps of air. Slipping up along her torso, he licked the beads of sweat that lined her breasts. When she was still and silent, he parted her legs and took position. He slid inside her as if he were slicing through molten butter.

  Layla didn’t think she would be ready so soon, but her muscles expanded to accommodate him. The passion and need that glided through her nerves was a huge surprise. She was so ready
to do this.

  The ride started once more, and the pace he set was brutal. He pounded into her, hard. Fast. Her fingers clutched his hips as he slid in and out. Her nails dug into his skin, urging him to go faster. His chest brushed over her breasts and her nipples ached. His cologne, hot and spicy, hit her nostrils and invoked a desire that she thought wasn’t possible. The momentum carried her higher and higher until she was a mass of quivering, shuddering muscles. The craving for release was so strong that she felt like her body was on fire.

  She felt him join her on the apex of the cliff that beckoned her forward. With each thrust, she felt freer, lighter, until she was swaying right at the cusp. Layla screamed as the second orgasm ripped through her, turning her insides into jelly. Her toes curled and she shuddered. A moment later, he spilled his seed inside the barrier and collapsed on top of her.

  For a long time, they lay still, each lost in thought. Never before did a man make her feel quite this way. She simply didn’t have the energy to move out from under him. He rolled off her and still she couldn’t move.

  This wasn’t just the release of the sexual tension that gripped her since she saw him. This was love—and suddenly—Layla felt scared. If he could make her feel like this in one night, what else lay waiting in the days, months, years to come? It was the last thought on her mind as she drifted into sleep beside him.

  It was the beginning—and she couldn’t wait for the rest of the journey to unfold.

  Chapter Eight

  You don’t need anyone’s affection or approval in order to be good enough. When someone rejects or abandons or judges you, it isn’t actually about you. It’s about them and their own insecurities, limitations, and needs, and you don’t have to internalize that. You’re allowed to voice your thoughts and feelings. You’re allowed to assert your needs and take up space. And you’re allowed to remove anyone from your life who makes you feel otherwise.

  ~Daniell Koepke

  Clint was in the midst of a nice dream when he heard the shrill sound of his phone. Rolling over, he grabbed it and saw the name on the screen. Shit! It’s the hospital administrator.