by Stacy-Deanne
“Fuck you.” Veins pulsed in Klein’s neck. “Are you paying my damn bills? No. Is my future in your hands? Then don’t judge me, Anderson. Either you accept me for who I am or go to hell.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sonjay traveled another hallway. “Stop following me.”
Dex’s patent leather shoes squeaked with every step. “What are you doing?”
She still heard the faint music from the ballroom. “I’m looking for my fiancé if you must know.” She reached the elevator across from the glass staircase.
Dex came up beside her, her nipples hardening as his chest rubbed against her back. “We need to talk.”
“Go to hell.” She jumped into the elevator and he followed. “Could you go somewhere please?” She pushed the button. “Klein’s already pissed you had the nerve to show up. He catches up with you he’ll skin you alive.”
Dex leaned against the wall. “I’m not worried.”
She kept her stare on the buttons in front of her, determined not to look into his eyes. If she did that, no way she’d stay in control.
He stroked her arm.
She slapped his hand. “Go rub on that bimbo.”
“Knock it off. Bridgette’s just a friend.”
She moved to the other side of the elevator.
He walked to her and tickled her neck with his finger, hitting her spot.
Her pulse quickened from her rising blood pressure. “Don’t.”
“Touch me, Sonny.”
“Why do you do this?” She closed her eyes, squirming. “Why do you push?”
He pressed the emergency stop button, halting the elevator. “Because you love being pushed.” He grabbed her head, enrapturing her with a feverish kiss. “Mm.”
She freed herself, struggling to breathe. “Dex, we—”
He spoke between sticky kisses, “Every time you say we can’t we do.”
She moaned. “My hair.”
“Fuck your hair.” He pushed her against the wall, grabbing her ass.
“Hm. Dex, stop.”
He pulled his mouth away, lips covered with auburn lipstick. “You don’t look like you want me to stop.” He pinned her still, slobbering on her neck.
“We’re at the mayor’s birthday party. What if someone needs to use the elevator?”
“There are...tons...of elevators...in this...hotel,” he said within kisses.
She slipped his jacket from his shoulders. “What if someone finds out?”
“They won’t if you shut up so we can finish.” He snatched the strap of her dress and suckled her shoulder.
She moaned, her head bouncing on the wall. “I can’t believe this is happening. Wait.”
“I’ve been waiting.” He slid down her panties.
“Oh, God.” She threw her head back. “We can’t. I’ll come by your place later.” She pushed him but he didn’t budge. “We can do it then.”
“We’re doing it now.” He clamped her lips in his while fumbling with his pants.
“Klein.” She breathed. “He’ll be looking for me.”
“Say you want me.” He lowered his pants. “Say it.”
“Fuck.” She grabbed his shoulders. “You know I do.”
His Calvin Klein cologne overtook the elevator, making her pussy quiver.
He hoisted her up, slipping his wide shaft between her folds.
“Oh.”
“You feel that?” He yanked her head back. “You want me?”
“Yes.” She gyrated. “Fuck me, hard.” Sweat drenched her hairline. “Hurry.” She huffed and puffed, her breasts swelling. “Fuck me, Dex.” Her legs shook. “Don’t stop.”
“Sh.” He kissed her, stealing her scream. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” He lifted her leg higher. “Say it.”
“Yes!” Her eyes rolled back into her head and her toes curled. “I love you, Dex.” She pushed her fingers in his stiff hair, the plateau of intense pleasure erupting from her. “I’m coming!” She writhed against his hard chest. “Oh!”
The muscles in Dex’s face flexed, his abdomen expanding as he screamed louder than she thought possible.
Seconds later, his cum warmed her thighs.
“We didn’t use anything.” Her head fell against his shirt. “How could we be so stupid?”
“I don’t care.” He swallowed between breaths. “Right now I don’t care about anything but how good you feel.”
She gasped at the wet spot on the slit of her dress. “You got cum on my dress.”
He guffawed, covering his mouth.
“It’s not funny!” She rubbed the material together, but the stain remained. “How the hell will I explain this?”
“Hell if I know.” He turned red from laughter. “But it’ll be fun to see you try.”
****
When the elevator opened, Klein stood at the doors looking like Boyd used to when Sonjay missed curfew after a date. “Sonjay, where the hell have you been?” His pupils dilated when he noticed Dex. “I can’t believe you showed your face here. Guess you want to get that butt kicking I’ve been saving for you?”
“Cool it, honey.” Sonjay slumped out the elevator and kissed Klein’s cheek. “You don’t want to cause a spectacle.”
“What the hell you doing here, Dex?”
“I was invited.”
“That’s a damn lie. Get the hell out or I’ll throw you out.”
Sonjay touched Klein’s shoulder. “Don’t make a scene.”
“What scene?” He wiggled his shoulders to knock her hand away. “No one’s here but us.”
“Stop.” Sonjay grabbed Klein’s arm. “Let’s go.”
“What the hell are you doing in there with him, anyway, Sonny?”
“We caught each other on the elevator.” She moved her hands, awkwardly. “I was looking for you.”
“Truth is, I miss you guys,” Dex said. “I’m lonely without my best friend. Klein, don’t throw our friendship away because of this.”
“If you were my friend, then you’d drop the case.”
“I’m not dropping the case. It’s no different from you working for Mayor Bordeaux yet being silent on what’s going on. Sonjay’s gonna be your wife.” Dex’s voice cracked when he looked at her. “Right?”
She directed her gaze elsewhere.
Klein put his arm around her waist. “You damn right she will.”
“I want to be a part of that.” Lines deepened between Dex’s eyebrows. “Please, don’t cut me out of your lives.” Dex moved closer to Klein. “Let’s work this out.”
“Nothing to work out.” Klein’s jaws flexed. “If you want to be friends, kick Lancaster to the curb. There’s no other way.”
Dex switched his gaze to Sonjay, shook his head and walked away.
“This is torturing him, Klein. Maybe you should put yourself in his shoes.”
“Sonny, Presley’s your niece.”
“I wanted to wring Dex’s neck when I heard about this too but it’s difficult for him.”
“Good.” He looked in the direction Dex had gone. “It shouldn’t be easy to betray your friend.” He gave her the once-over. “What’s going on?”
She fidgeted. “Nothing.”
“What did you and Dex talk about?”
“Presley.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “He made me realize how much the situation’s hurt him.”
His nostrils flared. “Stay away from him.”
“Fine.” She released a nervous chuckle. “Let’s get back to the party.”
“Hey.” He stopped her from leaving. “What happened to you? Your hair and your dress? Looks like you’ve been rolling around in a field somewhere.” He grimaced, gesturing to the cum stain. “Did you spill something on yourself?”
“It’s champagne.” She turned him in the other direction, slipping her arm in his. “Come on. I’m sure Mayor Bordeaux misses you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“It’s beautiful out here.” Channing looked over the balcony. “M
akes me appreciate Thompsonville more.”
Anderson inched beside her, putting his arm around her waist.
He waited for her to object but she didn’t.
“You’re a fascinating woman. There’s more in store for you than this town.”
She tightened within his touch.
“You still want to experience the outside world?” He sniffed her hair. “Ever thought of Boston?”
She watched him from over her shoulder. “What?”
“Why not?” He looked over the balcony at car lights that resembled ants. “There are endless opportunities there. You can go to college like you wanted.”
“Unlike you I don’t live in a dream world, Anderson.”
“Nothing wrong with dreaming.” He caressed her narrow shoulders. “You should have a life worthy of what you can offer. It would be better for you and Presley.”
“Are you suggesting I move to Boston?” She leaned over the railing. “I’m a single mother who has to think of what’s best for my daughter.”
“Mm.” He pressed his lips together. “Now Presley’s an excuse for why you can’t live your life?”
“How dare you?”
“If you didn’t have children, there would be another reason you can’t leave.”
“My daughter is in a coma.”
“I’m not saying leave tonight, Channing.” He raised his voice. “I’m saying pursue something else or stop sulking about your life.”
He expected her to chop his head off, but she chuckled instead.
“You’re lucky I like your ass.”
“You're worthy of a better life.” He touched her cheek. “When will you realize it?”
Her eyes shifted. “You want to kiss me, kiss me.”
“Thanks for the suggestion.” He grinned, cupping her body in his arms. “But, I would’ve done it, anyway.” Just as he brought his mouth to hers, he stopped for a moment, reassuring himself this would happen.
Channing closed her eyes and puckered her shiny, luscious lips, anticipation spilling from her.
Anderson gave her a soft peck but it wasn’t enough. He went in again, kissing her open-mouthed, slow and rough.
“Mm.” Channing pressed her hands to his back, pushing him deeper into her mouth, forcing him to savor the flavor of champagne on her tongue.
Forget being a gentleman. He was taking what he wanted because this might be the only time he had the chance.
She stopped the kiss, his body aching as if he needed a fix only she could provide.
“Whoa.” She had that dazed look on her face women did when a guy turned out to be a better kisser than they thought. “Goodness. What came over me?”
“You got swept up.” He held her face in his palms. “Go with it, Channing.” He kissed her again.
She fondled him, awakening the deep ache in his dick. “Anderson, I can’t believe this.”
His scrotum strangled within its tightening skin.
“I need to concentrate on Presley.” She touched his lips. “I haven’t even dated in over a year.”
“We can take it slow.” He kissed her. “I love how you make me feel. Never thought I’d meet a woman so special again.”
She smiled, stroking his arms.
“No pressure, okay? Let’s see what happens.” He gave her another peck, parting his lips for another full-blown kiss.”
“Justice for Presley! What? Justice for Presley! Say it again! Justice for Presley!”
“What the?” Anderson looked over the balcony. “Oh no.”
Khadija and a large crowd of people, marched in front of the hotel.
“This is a mess.” Channing covered her mouth. “Someone's gonna get hurt.”
“Leave!” Klein jumped in front of the protesters, waving his hands. “Leave or we’ll call the police!”
“Fuck the police!” a white marcher with a blue bandana waved his sign.
“Tell the mayor to get his sorry ass out here and explain why he let down his people,” Khadija yelled. “Until then we ain’t going nowhere. Justice for Presley!”
Anderson snatched Channing’s hand and they left the balcony.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“What’s going on?” Bridgette held on to Dex as they ran behind people who poured from the hotel to see the spectacle outside.
“Khadija Moore.” Dex groaned. “She’s inciting a riot.”
Channing and Anderson bolted past he and Bridgette.
“Take me home,” Bridgette told Dex.
“Okay.”
Security screamed over the protestors but no one paid them any attention.
Dex’s phone rang as soon as he took Bridgette back inside the hotel. “Hello?”
“Dex,” Nate’s mother shrieked.
“Ms. Lancaster. Is everything okay?”
“It’s Nate. He’s acting funny. I went to his place, and he wasn’t even responding.”
Dex glanced at Bridgette who held her hips, tapping her foot. “What do you mean?”
“He was just sitting in his living room with this blank look on his face and talking crazy. He had this weird look in his eyes. I’m scared he might do something to himself.”
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”
“No, no.” She huffed and puffed. “I know my boy. He’s not himself, Dex. Please, can you go to his place and talk to him? He respects you.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “I’ll be there soon.”
“Call me after you see him. Thank you so much, Dex.”
“Bye.” He hung up the phone.
Bridgette stroked her hair underneath. “I still can’t believe you’re defending that asshole after what he did to that little girl.”
“Did I ask your opinion? Come on.”
She moved back. “I’ll find another ride home.”
“Why are you being like this? You knew I was representing Lancaster.”
“It’s not about that. How long have you and Sonjay Mills been having an affair?”
“What?” He lowered his voice. “Where did you get that from?”
“From the way you look at her.” She wiggled her neck, lips pursed. “A blind person could tell you’re in love with her.”
****
“Justice for Presley!” The marchers pranced past Klein, paying him no attention. “Justice for Presley!”
“Khadija, stop this.” Channing barged into the crowd. “This isn’t helping my daughter. You’re just making a spectacle out of her.”
“No, I’m out here marching until my feet hurt, which is more than what you’ve done.” She propped the sign on her shoulder as protestors circled her. “If you love your daughter you’d grab a sign and join us.”
Channing lunged at her. “Listen.”
“Channing.” Anderson grabbed her. “Ignore her.”
“Ah, guess no one told you, huh, Mr. Abraham?” Khadijah blew a kiss at him. “You can’t ignore me.”
“We want the mayor,” an elderly, black protestor demanded. “He shouldn’t be able to hide!”
“Yeah,” a woman screamed. “Get your ass out here, Bordeaux. You coward!”
“Get him out here,” a Hispanic woman shouted. “Or we’ll tear this hotel down brick by brick!”
“Brick by brick!” Khadija stomped with her sign. “Brick by brick!”
The protestors chanted along with her.
Channing gripped her head. “This is my fault.”
“You had nothing to do with this.” Anderson rubbed her shoulder. “Khadija’s heart is in the right place but this isn’t the way at all.”
“Her heart nothing,” Sonjay said. “She doesn’t give a damn about Presley. Once she leaves it’s the people of Thompsonville left to clean up her mess.”
“I thought you called the police,” Channing told Klein.
“I did.” He loosened his bowtie, sweat dripping.
“We can’t wait on them, “Anderson said. “They’ll tear this hotel to pieces.”
“K
lein, do something,” Channing begged.
“Hey!” Klein jumped into the crowd. “Everyone, listen. Listen!”
“Let him speak!” Khadija waved her arm, and the marchers lowered their chants.
“Yeah, chomp,” a black guy snapped at Klein. “Now your sellout ass got something to say? Where you been?”
“We can’t keep going on like this,” Klein said. “No one wants any trouble here.”
The weary security guards retreated with desperation painted on their faces.
“What do you want?” Klein asked Khadija. “Lay it out there.”
“Ain’t you listening? We want what we always want.” She pointed to the hotel. “That scary ass mayor to come out here and show us the respect we deserve.”
“If you want respect maybe you should try giving it,” Channing said. “I’ve asked you to back off and you refuse to.”
“You don’t tell us what to do, Channing.” Khadija stomped her feet in run-over Chuck Taylors. “We want the mayor now! His ass can’t hide anymore.”
“That’s right!” a heavyset, dark-skinned woman with a lisp, shouted from behind Khadija. “I lost my son because some white man shot him because he felt my son shouldn’t walk in his neighborhood at night. I promised my boy I’d get him justice.” She sobbed. “Justice never came. The man who killed my son is walking around free and the mayor hasn’t done shit about it. No more.” She shook her head, braids flying. “No more lying around and waiting. No more of our kids being gunned down or ran over. Uh-uh. We are done.” A tear fell off the woman’s cheek. “This isn’t just about Presley. Many here have lost loved ones to violence and racial injustice.”
The protestors nodded and muttered in agreement.
“You can watch from the sidelines,” the woman told Channing. “But we’re fighting. Mayor Bordeaux, get your ass out here! You’re not running from us tonight. Brick by brick!” She marched in place. “Brick by brick”
“Brick by brick!” The others started up again. “Brick by brick!”
“Enough, Klein.” Channing grabbed his shirt collar. “You get Mayor Bordeaux out here right now.”
“Leave!” The chunky hotel manager waddled from the hotel entrance as more television crews arrived. “We’ve called the police and anyone on the premises who doesn’t belong here will be arrested.”