Ms. Perfectly Imperfect: BBW BWWM Interracial Romance

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Ms. Perfectly Imperfect: BBW BWWM Interracial Romance Page 9

by Roxy Wilson


  “I just remembered that I’ve got some loose ends to tie up at work.” He strolled off before she could say anything.

  Damn it! Layla couldn’t believe that he would simply take whatever Gage said at face value. Didn’t he realize she wasn’t that kind of a person? She wasn’t the sort to play games and cheat on people. Rather than try to stop him, she took a cab and went home. If he didn’t believe her, then she didn’t want anything to do with him. She couldn’t possibly be with a man who didn’t trust her implicitly.

  Back in her apartment, she felt depressed. Rather than wallow in the misery of her love life, she focused on her work. Opening her laptop, she began to work on her program for her soap business. She had to give details to the company with which she was now a partner. For several hours, she worked on the proposal and finally, satisfied with the work, she emailed it to them. Just as she finished sending it, her doorbell rang. Thinking it might be Clint, she opened the door. She glowered at the man who stood there. “Gage. What do you want?”

  “Can we talk?”

  “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  She didn’t like the determined look on his face. Layla considered slamming the door in his face but instead, she stepped aside to let him. “Okay. Come in.”

  He walked inside, looked around as if he expected to see Clint, and then visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry about what happened today. When I saw you, I lost my head. You looked so beautiful.”

  “And you wanted me back, huh?”

  He cringed at the harsh tone of her voice. “We were together for two years, Layla. It’s not a short time.”

  “And yet, you didn’t think about it when you dumped me because I was losing my hair.” She pulled off the wrap she’d draped elegantly around her head. Her head was as bald as a coot. She’d hated to see the patches of hair like a barren desert on her head, so she opted to just keep her hair completely shaven. In fact, having a bald head wasn’t low maintenance; it was no maintenance. She silently laughed at her wacky sense of humor over a situation that she’d once thought was the death knell of her career. “I’m still the same ugly girl, Gage. Are you sure you want this?”

  He paled visibly. “I—we can get past this. What did the doctors say? I’m sure they can treat it.”

  Walking over to the door, she opened it. “There’s nothing you can say that will ever convince me that I should get back with you. It’s over, and it’s going to stay that way.”

  He looked torn between his desire to make amends and his need to run away. “But—”

  Suddenly, a wave of laughter bubbled over to the surface. She guffawed so hard, her ribs hurt. Layla stole a glance at Gage, and the sight of his reddened face made her experience another fit of laughter that left her breathless.

  Gage glared. “Are you insane?”

  She sucked in her breath, trying to control the laughter, but failing miserably.

  “What’s wrong with you? You’re totally…” Gage flexed his fingers; his eyes cold and hard.

  Layla swallowed her laughter. “You know what, Gage?” She felt the sudden need to get this ass out of her apartment and out of her life for good. “Getting alopecia was the best thing that happened to me, because it helped me to see who you really are. And to be honest, I don’t like you…Not. One. Damn. Bit.” She opened the door even wider. She couldn’t wait to see the back of him. “Just go!” Layla didn’t even care if he wanted to get back with her, despite the obvious ‘disease’ she was suffering from. Whatever he said wouldn’t be enough to make up for the hurt he caused her.

  Without another word, Gage marched out.

  She closed the door and sighed with relief. The man was nuts. Why would she want to take him back? He dumped her once, and he could do so again. She wasn’t going to take that chance. Instead, she was going to live her life on her terms.

  Layla went to bed. Images of Clint flashed through her mind. Would he still accuse her of cheating on Gage with him? Frankly, she was done with men who didn’t respect her enough. If he didn’t believe her, she wasn’t going to explain herself. No siree.

  She didn’t want to lose Clint, but if he didn’t come around, she didn’t have another option.

  Dammit! Who am I fooling? I don’t want to lose him.

  ~* * * *~

  Layla had just wrapped the bath towel around her body after stepping out of the shower when she heard the doorbell ring. If it was Gage, she was going to call security. She was done with that man. He couldn’t keep barging into her life as if he owned it. Wrapping a towel around her head, she rushed to the bedroom and quickly donned a pair of cut-off jeans and a well-worn, white t-shirt. She jogged to the front door, amidst the impatient buzzing of the doorbell. Layla gasped, her heart racing.

  Clint stood at the door, looking handsome as ever. “May I come in?”

  Layla eyed the bouquet of white tulips he held in his hands and then him. “Sure.” She stepped back, giving him room to enter.

  He walked in and handed the flowers at her. “Layla…” He cleared his throat. “It was stupid of me to doubt you. Of course that man was lying.”

  She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “And what made you finally come to that conclusion?” She would be damned if she made things easy for him.

  “You’ve been nothing but honest and forthright with me, and those things are what I love most about you.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe how foolish he’d been to believe the worst of her. “I was jealous—insecure…”

  “Gage came by yesterday. He wanted to get back with me.”

  He pushed his hand through his hair. “What did you tell him?” Clint sucked in a deep breath and then expelled it with a gush.

  “I told him…” Layla stared at Clint for several seconds. It seemed as if he dreaded the answer. She couldn’t bear to prolong their agony any longer. “I told him to get lost.” She waltzed over to Clint and draped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. She still held the tulips in her hand.

  Clint wrapped his muscular arms around her body. His firm, strong heartbeat was reassuring. She wished she could stay in his arms forever, but she needed to give him a response. Layla raised her head and gazed up at him. His dark gaze looked troubled.

  “How can I get back with him when I’m with you?”

  “Do you forgive me?”

  Emotions, hot and strong, swirled in the depths of her heart. Forgive him? A man who could so readily accept his mistakes was number one in her world. “Of course, I do.”

  A look of pure relief crossed his face. “I don’t have an excuse except that I’m plain crazy about you. I love you, Layla.”

  She unwrapped her arms from around him and bent her head, inhaling the scent of the tulips. She headed over to the counter and placed the flowers in an empty vase, all the while glancing at Clint and hoping he could read all the love she felt for him reflecting in her own eyes. Then she sashayed back over to him and embraced him. “I love you more, Clint.”

  His arms encircled her waist and his lips descended on hers.

  His tongue twisted with hers and she felt happiness course through her veins. She’d been nothing but lucky to have him in her life. He was the right man for her, the only one—and she wasn’t stupid enough to let him go. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he deepened the kiss. He bent, and swooped her in his arms effortlessly. He then waltzed to her bedroom, with nary a protest from her.

  She wanted this.

  This was exactly how she imagined their love story would be. Perhaps there were a few hiccups in between but at last, they’d gotten to the right place. He lay her down on the bed. For a few moments, their gazes remained locked together.

  Then he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off.

  Her mouth salivated at the sight of his gorgeous body…truly a delight to look at. Mimicking his movements, she slipped out of her t-shirt. After unclasping her bra, she tossed it aside. Th
e gleam of appreciation that sparked in his eyes gave her the boost to go on. She wriggled out of her cut-offs and panties. Now, naked, she lay spread out before him. After a brief moment of hesitation, she also took off her wig.

  The fact that his expression didn’t change told her she’d made the right decision. How could she not love a man who accepted and respected her for who she was? There were no false notes with Clint. This was pure music, loud, clear, and uplifting.

  He took off the rest of his clothes.

  Layla couldn’t wait for him to join her, for their bodies to entwine—to feel him pounding inside her. Putting her hands on the bed, she leaned back and he straddled her. When his head bent and his mouth captured her nipple, a low moan escaped her lips. Flaming hot loops of passion skidded along her skin while he caressed and fondled her hard buds. One by one, he paid homage to each breast while she shuddered under him. Delirious with need and passion, she arched her back.

  Yes…exactly what she wanted.

  While his tongue brought her to the edge of insanity, his fingers flicked over her skin. Slowly, his hand travelled down until he reached the curls that nestled between her thighs. His thumb brushed over her sensitive nub. A storm of passion swept through her. She writhed under him. Her fingers speared through his hair and she held on while he pleased her. His finger moved in and out of her satiny center. The orgasm that rippled through her was wild and powerful. Her body jerked beneath him.

  He gave her a few moments to recover before his knee nudged apart her legs. She was already hungry for more. He hovered over her for a few seconds. She sucked in a breath and he ploughed his way into her. They were joined together—and it was a beautiful moment. She loved it. Her muscles clenched as her sheath stretched to accommodate him. He stroked in and out, and she enjoyed it. The need for release began to build inside her. Her gaze remained fixed on his face while he pounded into her with enough force to make her squeal. A low rumble escaped his lips as he fought to find his own bliss. They moved in perfect unison. The passion carried higher and higher on the squall that overtook each nerve.

  It became too much.

  She couldn’t take the exquisite torture anymore.

  A second orgasm rippled through her while she shuddered and screamed. Her back arched, and her body jerked.

  He exploded inside of her. Even in this desperate moment, he remembered not to crush her with his weight. Instead, he kept his elbows on the bed and hovered over her.

  This is real love—and she was luckiest woman in the world.

  Epilogue

  The right people are going to recognize your worth. They are going to respect you, appreciate you, and accept you, without forcing you to compromise who you are. Life is too short, and your happiness is far too important, to make room for anyone who treats you otherwise. ~Daniell Keopke

  Three years later…

  Layla and Clint linked hands as they strolled on the pavement of the lush and green Central Park on a beautiful summer day. The sun shone high on the sky, and a brisk wind blew.

  “Liam,” she called to their son who was twirling his body around in circles in the garden area.

  Hearing her voice, he stopped and fell onto the grass.

  “Come back here,” she called with laughter in her voice.

  He stood, wobbled for a moment, and then ran towards them. “Mama!”

  Her heart clenched with joy. When she looked at him, she could see the caramel-brown hair she used to have and Clint’s rich, dark-brown eyes. It was a mesmerising combination. Such a beautiful child, or perhaps she thought so, because he was hers.

  Theirs.

  It was hard to believe that she’d been blissfully married for almost two and a half years. Her son was just over a year old and already, he could say a few words.

  Charlotte swooped him into her arms and twirled him around. The little girl had been a steady part of their lives ever since she’d met Layla at the hospital.

  Liam’s gurgling laughter echoed in the park.

  “He loves it!” Charlotte exclaimed.

  “Oh yeah, he does.” Layla put her arm around Charlotte’s shoulders when she finally stopped spinning Liam around. “But better make sure he doesn’t get dizzy.”

  “Where are we going?” said Charlotte as she handed the toddler over to Clint. She’d been babysitting for them ever since Liam was born. It was actually just an excuse for them to keep tabs on the preteen who was growing up fast. The bond Layla shared with her didn’t dim in all this time. In fact, it strengthened.

  “We’re going to the waffle shop.” Layla winked. “Clint loves that place.”

  “It isn’t just me,” he protested. His gaze settled on his wife. “You love it too.”

  “Well, why shouldn’t I? That’s how our love story started. You, me, and the waffle cart,” she countered. “I’ll never forget those days.”

  “Well, let’s see what the fuss is all about,” Charlotte stated as they strolled to the waffle shop. The cart was long gone and the man now owned his own place. “It’s good to get out of the house.” She rolled her eyes. “Mom is all about the wedding, the gown, the menu...arrgh…and I want to pull my hair out!”

  Layla laughed as she sank into a booth.

  Clint got a highchair for Liam and settled him in. He headed over to the counter to place their orders. “It’s generally like that with women when they are getting married. One day, you’ll do the same.”

  “Ugh! I never want to get married,” she claimed.

  “Hear, hear!” Clint stated as he delivered the waffles.

  They settled to eat. The waffles were as good as ever.

  Layla snuck Liam a few pieces even though he wasn’t supposed to eat sweets. “Now, you’ll be getting a new stepfather. It will be cool.”

  Charlotte huffed. “He’s okay, not that bad, but if I had a choice, I would rather have you guys as parents, step or otherwise.”

  “That’s so sweet, darling, but we’re always here for you. Always.” Layla glanced over feeling pride for the preteen whom she considered as her own. She likened the relationship she and Charlotte had with the kind of relationship she always wanted to have with her own mother, Mary—but never really had. “You can count on us.”

  “I know I can.” They finished eating. As they stood, Charlotte put her hand on Layla’s arm. “That waffle was as good as advertised.”

  “Glad you liked it.”

  They stepped out of the shop. It was now a glorious evening.

  Charlotte smiled. “Love how you wrapped your head, Layla. Suits you.”

  “Thanks, darling.” She put Liam in his stroller.

  Clint bent next to her, to help her strap in the toddler who was already rubbing his eyes. “You look hot, you know,” he whispered, “I love you.” He planted a kiss on her cheek.

  She grinned as she gazed at her son and then into her husband’s loving eyes. “And I. Love. You.”

  Love was in the air—and Layla was the happiest woman in the whole, wide world.

  ***THE END***

  If you enjoyed this book, then please leave a review for others, so they can also derive pleasure from reading it. Click here.

  To join my mailing list, send an email to [email protected]. Be sure to type the word SUBSCRIBE in the subject.

  Other Books by Roxy Wilson

  Baby Wanted (A Bundle of Joy, Book 1)

  The Baby Proposal (A Bundle of Joy, Book 2)

  Baby, You’re Mine (A Bundle of Joy, Book 3)

  Secret Baby Seduction (A Bundle of Joy, Book 4)

  A Christmas Kiss (Holiday Happiness, Book 1)

  Second Chance Christmas (Holiday Happiness, Book 2)

  The Christmas Cupid (Holiday Happiness, Book 3)

  Mistletoe Miracles

  Loving St. Nick

  Work It Out

  The Right Kind of Love

  He’s So Into You

  Love in Black and White (Sam Crescent, Jamallah Bergman, Roxy Wilson, et al) />
  About the Author

  Roxy Wilson, a self-professed book junkie, was born and bred in a beautiful island in the Caribbean.

  As a graduate with a degree in Education, she writes blogs which help readers to think critically about and appreciate poetry. Recently, however, she decided to delve into the world of writing interracial and multicultural romance stories. Her debut novel is the Right Kind of Love and was published by Secret Cravings Publishing. Roxy is also the Reviews Coordinator of Romance Novels in Color (RNIC).

  When Roxy isn’t reading or writing, she spends her time trying out recipes with her daughter, designing and dress making, listening to music of the 80’s and 90’s or engaging in her favorite workout routine, which is 1-clicking a new book to read, to her heart’s content.

  To find out more about Roxy Wilson, check her out:

  On her Website/Blog—https://roxywilson.wordpress.com/

  On Facebook—https://www.facebook.com/roxy.wilson.737

  On her Facebook fan page - https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Roxy-Wilson/153086841563014?ref=hl

  On Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Roxy-Wilson/e/B00D0W0C8K/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1. Click Follow

 

 

 


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