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The Layover
http://www.interracialerotica.net/erotica/articles/365/1/The-Layover/Page1.html
By Michelle Jefferson
Published on July 21, 2012
 
They met be chance and greed not to exchange names or other personal information. After a night of unrivaled passion, it is time to come clean. And it's not good.

This story has had many lives! It started on an overseas trip in 2011 an was finally finished during another trip in 2012.  hope you enjoy it.
~~ Michelle



The Layover
















“Please, don’t put any clothes on yet,” he implored.

“But we have to get packed…get ready to go.”

“How about you do everything else, and then put your clothes on last.  Do you hair, your make-up; get everything in the suitcase except the clothes you are wearing.  Okay?  Please?  I just want to look at you.  I’m not ready to give you back to the real world just yet.”

She hesitated.  Like too many woman, she was more in touch with those things she viewed as the flaws of her physique, and had trouble believing that he just wanted to look at her...just as she was.  Finally, reluctantly, she agreed.  He kissed the tip of her nose in appreciation.

She went about her packing, feeling silly being naked.  How was it that she came to be walking around a hotel room, naked, with a man she’d met less than 24 hours ago?  This beautiful, warm, loving, funny, blonde-headed, green-eyed man with the cutest ass she’d ever seen that wasn’t on a movie screen.

But, she was also turned on by walking around naked with him.  Turned on by the freedom of just being naked and admired by this intriguing man.  As they moved around, gathering their things, he occasionally gave her ass a quick caress or one of her nipples a quick tweak.  Nothing overtly sexual; just familiar, comfortable.  Letting her know he was enjoying their intimacy while still attending to the task at hand.

Once she’d packed all that she could, she moved to the vanity.  Her short, natural hairdo did not require a lot of time but she attended to what needed to be done, then moved on to her face.  She was nearly finished with her make-up when he moved in behind her, circling his arms around her waist. One hand moved up to caress a breast, the other moved down to caress her mound, still smooth from the shave she’d talked him into doing for her the night before.  She moaned her pleasure.

“I thought we were supposed to be getting ready,” she commented, not really protesting his ministrations.

“We are.  I just needed to touch you, pleasure you again.”  His hands became more insistent.  He pinched her nipples with one hand while entering her with one finger of the other, then added his thumb to stimulate her clit.  “Watch yourself in the mirror, Angel.  See what I see when I make love to you.  See your nipples pucker?  See how your hips move, pulling your pleasure to you?”

She worked to keep her eyes open.  She enjoyed seeing the contrast of his pale arms around her brown body.  He worked his finger in and out, meeting her thrusts, but also making her work for her pleasure.  Eventually, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer, had to close them so that she could fully feel the experience; not be distracted by the visual stimuli of watching.

“Yeah, Baby.  Let it go.  Come for me.”

Flexing her hips one last time she exploded.  The thrill coursed from her clit, up to her breasts and back down.  Her loud cries of satisfaction would not be contained as she shattered.

He held her while she came back to herself, easing her with gentle caresses.  He held his hand over her mound protectively, possessively, conveying his intention to hold her together until she could do it herself.  Kissing the back of her neck, he thanked for the gift she had just given him – the pleasure of making her come.

She turned in his arms and reached for his face.  Kissed him to convey her gratitude.  Gratitude for the orgasm she’d experienced, but also for him…just just being him. “Mmmmmm.  That was wonderful.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.  Now let me clean you up so that we can put your clothes on you.  I’m not willing so share you, naked, with the outside world.”

She puzzled a moment over ‘we can put your clothes on’ but was still a bit too muzzy-headed to sort it out completely.  Before she could make any further progress, he lifted her onto the vanity ledge and pressed her legs open.  He then proceeded to wash her pussy with warm water and so much tenderness that he had her on the brink of coming again.  She tried to pay attention to his erection; to reciprocate to at least some extent, but he would have none of it.

“This if for you, Angel.  Let me take care of you.”

What choice did she have?  Finally, he patted her dry and helped her down to her feet.  He gave her ass an affectionate squeeze and directed her off toward the clothes she’d laid out on the bed.  Then she remembered the ‘we can put your clothes on’ and wondered what he had in mind.

“Let me dress you,” he said.

She giggled, not certain if he was serious.  When she realized that he was, she nodded in agreement.  He held her panties for her to step into them, but before raising them into position, he kissed the top of her mound, as if saying good-bye to someone precious, already missing them before they’ve even left.  He turned her around to kiss each ass cheek as well.  He then did the same with each breast as he put her into her bra, then her skirt and blouse.  Kissing bare skin before it had to be covered with clothing.  Finally she was dressed, but his ministrations had her wanting to rip her clothes back off to make love to him.

“Do I get to help you dress?” she asked.

“I was hoping you’d want to.”  She smiled, and then looked over to his clothes.  Not seeing any underware, she paused.  “I’m going commando,” he said in response to her unasked question.

She helped him into his jeans, mimicking his earlier actions by kissing the head of his penis before carefully tucking him inside and raising the zipper.  She gave each of his flat nipples a lick before she buttoned him into his shirt, then gave his clothed chest an affectionate pat.  They both sighed audibly, knowing it was time to return to real life, but not really wanting to.

She suddenly reached beneath her skirt, making sure he was watching her.  When her hand reemerged, she was holding her panties.  “If you are going commando, so am I,” she explained, and tucked the panties into one of his front pockets.

He did his best to suppress a moan; his best was not quite good enough.  She heard him, and reveled at the realization of the impact she had on him.  With one deeper sigh and a chaste kiss on her forehead, he said, “I’d better go see about a luggage cart or we’ll never get out of here.”

 

During the short wait for the elevator down to the lobby, he thought back to the completely captivating woman  he’d met only yesterday, and how he’d come to be completely enamored of her….

He’d rushed to the gate, only to find that his flight to Pittsburgh was delayed…by 60 minutes!  What the hell?  Damn!  Could anything else happen to screw up this day?

Looking around for a seat to wait it out, he saw a number of empty ones here and there.  But, after the day he’d had, he didn’t see himself sitting down making polite conversation with any of the people in the adjoining seats.  Maybe he’d stand, or back track to the nearest bar and try to anesthetize himself.  Just then, he noticed a ‘stuffed suit’ kind of guy get up and head back toward the bar, with a bit of a sway to his step.  The attractive Black woman in the next seat looked a tad relieved to have him gone. He moved purposefully toward the vacated seat.  His day was finally looking up.

As he sat, the woman looked a bit dismayed, as if she’d hoped the seat would stay empty.   He leaned slightly toward her and said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “You’re better off with me.  Otherwise, Mr. Suit will be back, and he’ll be drunker than when he left.”

She gave him a reluctant smile.  “I suppose you are right.  Thanks.”  With that, she returned her attention to her book.

He let her read a few more pages while he stole subtle glances in her direction. She was a cinnamon colored beauty with her short hair worn natural.  He’d already noticed her prominent cheekbones, bright eyes and a beautiful smile, and was immediately drawn to her.

“What are you reading?”

She took her time responding, letting him know that she would rather read than talk to him.  “Passing by Nella Larson.”  She gave him a dismissive little ‘go play now’ smile and tried to return to her book.

“Ah, that’s what you were after when I had to help you get your bag down from the overhead bin on the last flight?”

She paused for a moment, clearly confused.  “On the flight from Los Angeles?  That was you?”

“Yes.  That was me.  You were so far up on your toes, I was afraid that you and the bag were going to end up on the floor or in someone’s lap.”

Her beautiful smile contained a hint of embarrassment.  “I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize you.  I guess I was too focused on the woman beside you who was clearly unhappy that you’d come to my rescue,” she teased.  “She wanted all of your attention.”

“You could tell that in those few short seconds?”

“Women have a way of letting other women know when they should back off.”   She chuckled.  “So, where is she now?  Was Chicago her final destination?”

“I hope so,” he answered, looking over his shoulder and mocking the actions of one running from danger, making them both laugh.  “That’s why I was so long getting here.  I couldn’t seem to shake her.”

 She smiled at his predicament, then again attempted to return to her book.

“I’ve never read Passing.  What is it about?”

Again, she took her time responding.  “Ah, it’s hard to explain.”

“I mean, I know what it means to ‘pass’ for white…”

Her raised eyebrows let him know that she was surprised he even knew that much.

“Ah, I see the skepticism written all over your face,” he mildly chastised.  “Don’t assume that because I am a white and male that I am therefore clueless.  I’ve read most of the classic African American literature, and a fair amount of the more contemporary stuff.”

 “Really? Are you a literature teacher? Or is your wife Black?”

“Ouch!  I am not a literature teacher, and I don’t currently have a wife…of any ethnicity. I just love to read; anything and everything.”

 She seemed to ponder that, and then went on to explain.  “Passing, is about the lives of two light-skinned African American women who’ve made different choices as to whether or not to pass for white…and the consequences of those choices.”

“I see….”

“Since I’m not finished, I can’t tell you which choice seems to work out better.”

Before he could ask his next question, they were interrupted by an announcement that their flight to Pittsburgh would be delayed another hour!  “Damn!  It is going to be a short night once I finally get home and get settled.”

“I know what you mean,” she said.

“Come one, Angel, let’s get something to eat while we wait.”

She gave him that look he’d never seen anyone other than Black women pull off.  The look that said, ‘have you lost your mind’ and ‘back the fuck up’ and ‘excuse me?’ all at once.

“Angel?”

He smiled.  “Well, I don’t know your name.  I had to call you something.”

“I’m – “

“No, don’t tell me,” he quickly interrupted.  “If we know each other’s names, then we have to behave like our real-life, responsible selves.  I don’t know about you, but I’ve had one hell of a day and I could use an escape from reality.  If we don’t know each other’s names, we can do what we want, not what we feel like we should do.”

“What makes you think that those two options are different for me?”

"Come on, Angel.  Anyone who enjoys reading as much as you seem to knows the pleasure of escaping reality for a few hours.”

"True,” she responded noncommittally.  “But that doesn’t mean that I have to escape with you!”

“Once again, you wound me.  Come on, Angel.  You’re perfectly safe with me in this very public airport.”

She seemed to ponder that.  “Okay…Prince.  Moving around a bit sounds good right about now.”

He smiled.  “Prince?”

“Well, you came to my rescue on the plane, and again when you sat down so that my former partner could not return to torment me.  Isn’t that what princes do, rescue damsels?”

“Works for me.  Let’s go!”

Over dinner they talked about everything and nothing.  Since they had agreed not to share personal details, some subjects were off limits.  Despite that, he was able to find out enough to know that he wanted to spend more time with her.

“Angel, have you ever dated white guys?”

“No, I haven’t.”

He paused before continuing.  “Does that mean you won’t ever, or that you just haven’t yet?

“Hmmm.  Can I get back to you on that one, Prince?”  Her tone did not give him much hope.

“Just so we’re clear, Angle.  I am very much attracted to you, and I hope we can see more of one another when we get back to Pittsburgh.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she checked her watch and suggested that they head back to the gate the check on the status of the flight.

“Okay, Angel.  You can run, but you cannot hide from me.  I already know that I want you.  I just have to wait for you to catch up.”

“What makes you so certain that I will ever want you?”

He leaned in so that only she could hear his next statement. “Because as soon as I mentioned seeing you again, your nipples got hard.  Now they look like they’re about to poke through your clothes.”

She looked down to check.  He couldn’t be certain but he though her hear her mumble, “Shit!”   He couldn’t help a smug smile when she raised her eyes back to his.

“Don’t think about what you should do.  What do you actually want to do? Remember, Angel.  No names.”   He swooped in and kissed her on her cheek before she could stop him.

When they’d returned from their meal to find that the Pittsburgh flight was canceled, he’d silently cheered at the extended opportunity to be with her.  As they watched their fellow passengers trying to make acceptable beds from the waiting area chairs, he made a quick decision and excused himself to make a phone call.

Before too long he returned to her side and again leaned in to speak at a level only she could hear.  “Okay, Angel.  Here is our chance.  I booked a room at the Marriott down the road, because I have no intention of sleeping sitting up.  Please come with me.”

“What?”

“Come on, Angel.  You know we both feel it.  Come with me.  Even if we only sleep, it will be better than spending the night here.”  He paused, looking her directly in the eye.  “But I hope we will do much more than sleep.”

She started to speak, then closed her mouth again.

“Baby, allow yourself a night of escape.  Please.  Let’s get our bags and grab the shuttle.”

“I must admit, the opportunity for a warm shower and a clean, soft bed is inviting.  Hmmmm.  No names, huh?”

“No names, Angel.”

“Okay.  I can’t believe I’m doing this, but let’s go.  Let’s go before I change my mind.”

His could not contain his broad smile.  Placing his hand lightly on the small of her back, he guided her to the designated baggage claim.  Once they were on the shuttle, he kept her close, draping his arm over her shoulders.  He already felt as if a piece of were missing if she got too far away from him.

Their room was not a room but a suite!  When she looked at him questioningly, he explained,    “The suite was all they had.  They gave it to me at the regular price.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically.

Time for a change of subject.  “Why don’t you go ahead and shower first, Angel?  I can wait.”

To say that their night together was “enjoyable” didn’t begin to cover it.  It was quite simply the best experience of his life.  The sex was exquisite, for sure.  He’d encouraged her to ask for whatever she wanted; to act on her wildest sexual fantasies.  They’d made love in the bubble bath, in the bed, on the table in the living room area, and against the wall.  Any flat surface would do.  Finally she’d admitted that she’d always secretly wanted her lover to shave her pussy.  So he did.  And by the end they were both so turn on that they’d make another round of all of the available flat surfaces…


But it was more than just phenomenal sex.  Just being with her seemed to fill a void he hadn’t ever realized needed filling.  Though he didn’t even know her name, he felt like he’d known her forever, as trite as that sounded.  Makes you wonder about that belief that souls meant to be together will find each other across lifetimes.  Geesh!  How sappy could he get?

Trying to hide the erection the memories of their night stimulated, he returned to their room with the cart.  As she checked the living area, he indicated that he’d check the bedroom to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything – and made the mistake of absently reaching into the pocket where she’d stuffed her panties.

The Layover
Just as she was about to ask him what was taking so long, he called to her. “Angle? Can you come in here, please?”

She entered the bedroom, first noticing that his shoes and jeans were thrown rather haphazardly on the floor.  Next, she noticed him, naked from the waist down and erect, sitting on a chair, imploring her, with a wave toward his dick, to come ride him. “The thought of you bare-assed under that skirt was more than I could take.  I have to have you one more time, Angel.  Come here.  Please.”

She didn’t have to be asked twice. The attention that he’d paid to her body as he’d dressed her had left her wet and ready. Ready for this opportunity.  She straddled his lap and lowered herself onto him. He reached under her skirt and squeezed her bare ass, sending a sensation directly to her nipples, which she could feel hardening.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned her.

“Me either, my Prince. Let go and I’ll be right with you.” Half a dozen more thrusts, with him dragging his cock across her g-spot, and they both erupted.

“Oh, my Angel,” he said with a pant, as they floated back to the ground.  “Being inside you is so sweet, so perfect.”

“Mmmmm.  I know what you mean.  That was so much more than simply scratching an itch!”

“For me too, Angle.  For me too.”

This time she went into the bathroom alone to clean up, knowing where it would lead if she allowed him to do it.

On the short shuttle trip to the airport, he pressed her for details.  “Okay, Angle.  Moment of truth.  I can’t let you go.  I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.  Please, let’s tell each other our real names and exchange phone numbers.”

She took a deep breath, but in truth it was not a hard decision.   “Okay my Prince.  I’ll go first.”  She reached out and caressed his cheek.  “My name is Zora Jackson.”

He took her hand and kissed it.  “How do you do, Zora  Jackson.  I am Ian McIntire.”

She stiffened and pulled away. “What did you just say?”

“I said,  my name is Ian McIntire.  Why?  What’s wrong?”

Her anger was immediate and palpable.  “So I just spent the night with Ian McIntire?  The man whose company basically killed my father?  Fuck!  This is what I get.  I let loose and go wild for one night and look what it gets me.  Shit!”  By the end of her rant, she was muttering to herself more than actually speaking aloud.

“What?”

As if suddenly remembering that he was beside her, she focused her eyes on him.  “Stay away from me.  Forget you ever heard my name and DO NOT attempt to contact me.”

 

Though he tried to get her to say more, she refused. When they reached the airport she grabbed her bags, refusing his help, and marched off toward the baggage check-in and security. He decided that they’d already drawn enough attention, so he didn’t immediately chase after her.  After all, they were on the same plane, how far away could she get?

An older gentleman must have observed the entire exchange, as he patted Ian’s sleeve and said, “Let her cool off, Son. Then apologize – whether it was your fault or not – and agree that all men are stupid.  It has worked for me for 65 years.”

Ian couldn’t help laugh at the advice, and promised to try it, if he could get close enough without being singed.

He checked in at the self-service kiosk, wishing he’d been able to catch up to Zora so that they could sit together.  No matter, he had a plan.

Once he figured out where she was on the plane, he walked back to her row and addressed her seat mate.  “Ma’am?  Could I ask a favor?  My wife,” nodding his head toward Zora, “got mad at me for forgetting her birthday and changed her seat assignment.  Would you be willing to switch with me so that I can try to get out of the dog house?  You’d be closer to the front and you’d get off sooner.  Please?”

Zora’s death-glare must have convinced the woman that there was something between them that she didn’t want to be in the middle of, and readily agreed to the switch.  Ian settled into the vacated seat, determined to figure out what the hell had happened.

“Okay, Angle, what is this about my company killing your father?”  He managed, barely, not to flinch when she focused her death glare on him again.

“I’ve told you my name.  Drop the cutesy ‘Angel’ shit.”

“But when you were my Angel, you would actually talk to me without trying to incinerate me with your eyes.  Can we go back to being those people for a bit?  Please, baby, talk to me about your dad.  Tell me what happened.”  He leaned in to whisper, “Need I remind you that I have your panties in my pocket?  I will resort to blackmail if necessary.”

The death glare turned into an eye roll.  After a few beats, she began to explain.  “My dad worked for Walters, Inc. for 35 years.  He went there right out of college and never left.  When you bought the company, my father was let go.  After 30 years, he was given two-weeks notice and shown the door. Obviously at 57, he was too young, financially or otherwise, to retire. They did not offer him any assistance in finding another position, not even an offer to look over his resume.  The rest of the family tried to help, but it had been so long since he’d had to look for a job, he didn’t know where to begin.  He ended up taking short-term jobs that were well beneath his qualifications.  And being a middle-aged Black man did not help. If it is possible to die of a broken heart, my dad did.  He had my mom and the rest of us, but his identity was tied up in that company.  Without it, he didn’t fully know who he was!”

“Oh, Angle.  I am so sorry.  I promise to look into this.”

“And do what?  Bring my father back?  There are some problems that money can’t solve!”

He could see that she was struggling to contain the tears in her eyes, threatening to fall.  “I’m not saying that, Baby. I know I can’t bring your father back.  But your father’s experience in no way conforms to the guidelines that I specified for those workers who were displaced, certainly not one who’d been with the company as long as your father had.  I will see who is responsible and see to it that there is some restitution.”

She looked at him doubtfully.  He attempted to pull her to him, to rest her head on his shoulder, but she resisted.  He again whispered, “Panties.”  Her eye roll was less fierce this time, and she  finally allowed him to pull her toward him and rested her head on his shoulder.  “This feels familiar,” she said.

He chuckled softly.  “Sure does, Angel.  You do realize that now you have to give me your phone number, so that I can get back to you on your father’s case?”

“Of course, Prince. I’ll put in into your phone when we land.”

“Thanks, Angel.  Now close your eyes.  We’ll be there before you know it.”

True to her word, she typed in her number when he handed her his phone as they waited on their bags.  He’d thought she might decline a ride into the city with him, and said as much.  “I’m only going with you to save my sister a trip.  She has three children and a full plate.”

Fine, whatever, as long as he could put off saying good-bye a bit longer.

When they arrived at her house in East Liberty, she did not allow him to kiss her good-bye, “My neighbors…” only thanked him politely for the ride, took her bags, and headed in.  He watched her go, admiring her fine ass and remembering that she was naked under her skirt.  Whew!  He resolved that regardless what happened between then, he would find out what happened with her father.

 

Three weeks went by and no word from Ian.  ‘Told ya’ she said to herself.  He had a great night – probably his first with a Black woman – fulfilled all his wild fantasies and rode off into the sunset.  Figures.  She got busy planning a girls-night with her friends.  They’d do some man-bashing and, though she’d have to be short on details, she’d feel better.

Two days later, she returned from her night out with her friends, to find Ian parked in front of her house.  “Don’t you believe in calling first?  And isn’t it rather late for a visit?  We don’t know each other like that.”

“Don’t you believe in answering your phone?  Or clearing out your voice mail so that someone can leave you a message?  And by the way, Angel, I DO know you like that.”

She dug her phone from the depth of her purse and looked back up at him with an embarrassed shrug.  “It’s turned off.  It must have been off all day.  I don’t remember looking at it since this morning when I threw it in there.”  

He moved closer, into her personal space.  “Now can we go in before your neighbor across the way calls the police?  She has been watching me since I got here 45 minutes ago.”

“She is not used to big scary white men hanging out in this neighborhood,” she said with a smirk.

“Be nice,” he admonished, patting her on her ass as she went by, “or I’ll tell her all the things you did to tame the scary white man back in Chicago.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though it lacked certainty.

He simply gave her a raised eyebrow, seeming to enjoy that the tables were turning slightly; that he finally had a bit of power in this situation.  “Let’s go in so that you don’t have to find out.”

She unlocked the door without further comment.  Once inside, she offered him a seat and asked if he wanted anything to drink.

“No thanks, Angel.  Sit down so that I can tell you what I found out about your dad’s situation.”

Rather than sitting beside him, she took the chair on the other side of the coffee table.  He looked as her as if to say ‘Really?’ but she stayed put.  “I want to stay focused,” she explained.

His responding smile was smug.  “Well that’s a good sign.  That I can still have that kind of effect on you.”

“Don’t count your chickens, Prince.  You are still on my family’s hit list.  Be glad I never told them about Chicago or you’d need a body guard to walk the streets of East Liberty.”

Sobering, Ian nodded in acknowledgment, then turned to business.  “Here is what I learned, Angle.  Your father, unfortunately, was assigned a rather young, inexperienced HR person to handle his separation from the company.  I found out from a friend of your fathers – who I tracked over to Alcoa – that when he walked into her office, she assumed that he was part of the custodial staff.  The custodial work is contracted out; they are not even our employees.  He was too outraged to set her straight.  To say that she was less than helpful would be an understatement.  His friend tried to get him to pursue it, but your father refused.”

“He never told us that.  We knew he had not been treated well, but he would never go into detail.  I don’t even think my mother knew that.”

“There’s more.  When I tracked down the HR person, she was not the least bit remorseful.  Said things like, ‘If those people can’t speak up….’  It went downhill from there.  I fired her on the spot.

“My next stop was my legal department. I will save your family the trouble of suing my company.  Considering the severance package your father should have been offered, and the years of his income and benefits your family was deprived of, I am having a check for $2 million dollars prepared.  If you will put me in touch with your mother, I’d like to hand deliver it so that I can apologize in person, and promise her to better monitor those who work for me in the future.”

“$2 million.  That’s impressive.”

“Okay, I can make it $3 million.”

She gave a small laugh.  “How do you stay in business if you’re such a poor negotiator?”

“This is different, my Angle.  I’m sure you know that.”

“Do you think you think that is going to get you into my panties?”

His face looked like a deer trapped in headlights.  “It was all my fault and all men are stupid.”

Zora laughed out loud.  “What?!?”

“Just some advice I got from a wise older man.  Is it working?” he asked, with the look of a third grader trying to charm his teacher.

“I’m not sure yet. By the way, did you bring my panties back?”

“No, I had more serious things on my mind with I left home.  Besides, those are mine; you put them in my pocket.”

“At the time, I didn’t know who you were.”

“But you did know how good we were together.  You gave them to me because of the wonderful night we had together.  Nothing will change that.”  He gave her a lascivious look.  “Angle, will you come sit with me?”

“I won’t be bought, Ian.”

“Technically, I have not given you or your family any money yet, so I’ve not bought anything.  And, I can promise you that whether or not you let me into your bed tonight, your family will get that check.  The issues are not related.”

She still looked uncertain.

“Please, my Angel.  Come to me because of what we can give each other.  I know you enjoyed it as much as I did. Please, Zora.”

She raised her eyebrow at his use of her name.

“Yes, I’m using your real name, because I want our relationship to be part of our real lives in the real world.  I already know that I love you, Zora. Come to me, Baby.”

She slowly stood and walked around the table to him.  She moved to sit beside him, but he would have none of that.  He pulled her into his lap and kissed her fiercely.  She placed his arms around her neck and returned his passion.

When they finally came up for air, he said, “I just need you to promise me one thing, Zora.”

“What’s that?” she asked, warily.

“Do you promise to protect me from your brothers?  Keep them from beating me up until I can explain?”

They laughed together, before he continued.   “Seriously, though.  I own the company that led to your father’s demise, I’m screwing their little sister, and I’m white. This is not going to be an easy ‘meet and greet.’”

“Well, we could make it a bit easier on you.”

“How?

“By you not screwing their little sister.”

“I am going to assume that you are kidding.  Do you really think I’d let you go at this point?”  He hugged her for emphasis.  “It’s been three weeks, aren’t you about due for a shave?” he asked with a leer.

“You are sooo bad, my Prince.”

“Ian.  Remember….real world.”

“Yes, Ian.  I remember.  Now let me show you the way to my real bedroom…”

“And in the morning,” he said, “we can talk about actually going out on a date.  I can’t have your family think that all we ever do is go to bed.”

“Okay….whatever.”  They were already half way up the steps and three-quarters of the way out of their clothes.