Forever Mine Box Set (BWWM, African American, Interracial,and Multicultural) (4 page)

“Look man, we had to eat and I had to buy clothes for my auditions not to mention some professional head shots for my portfolio.”

“You haven’t worked in six months. And that was for a dog commercial and no one noticed you. It was the dog who stared in that piece of shit commercial.” He stood gesturing to Mason. “When are you going to get real? When are you going to get it into your head that it’s a long shot like playing the lottery? It takes years to establish yourself in this town as an actor. You could be forty and never get a job. What are you going to do then?”

“Well, I’m not forty yet, I’m twenty-five and that’s not old, and I’m going to give it a go before I throw in the towel.”

“Twenty-five is old in Los Angeles. Don’t you realize that actors here have been working since they were children and here you come from England and expect everyone to fall at your feet? What about your family? Can’t they help you keep your apartment?”

“Fuck my family and fuck my father. He’s the one leading the family against me. Saying that I would throw away the family fortune if it was left to me. What do I look like? A bloody idiot?”

“You threw away everything else. I wouldn’t trust you with my niece’s piggy bank.”

“Now that hurts,” Mason said smiling back at Chad. “You have to be out of here today,” Mason said enjoying the look on Chad’s face, as he threw his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. He felt a hand grabbing his shoulder and turned around.

“What the fuck am I to do?”

“Call my father up and ask him if you can stay here,” Mason said smiling. “But you haven’t got a chance in hell. That stingy old man will die with his money and take it with him.”

“Well at least he made his money,” Chad said watching Mason climb into a cab.

Mason thought about what Chad had said and he shook his head determined to get a job at what he loved to do. He was an actor, but now he had to protect his day job. He had signed a contract to fly a spoil rich girl to Hawaii.

He had been leasing out his small jet, the last of his possessions before his father found out and repossessed it. It had afforded him a comfortable living after everything was taken away by the creditors. After paying a mechanic to get it into shape, he couldn’t afford a pilot, so he decided to fly it himself.

His money had run out and he had to take a short cut on the maintenance of the jet. He figured that it couldn’t be that hard and he decided to work on it himself. So he borrowed some books from the library after he couldn’t pay his internet and televisions bills, and began making repairs. After all there wasn’t much money left after using it for small things like a diamond ring he bought his girl and not to mention the red Porsche he put in her name. 

When she found out he was no longer going to be rich she disappeared with the car.

Now Mason was acting as the mechanic when the mechanic suddenly quit after not getting paid for six months. As long as the plane appeared to be in working condition, Mason hoped no one would check his credentials. That was the beauty of this. No one suspected that he owned the plane and he bribed inspectors to look the other way. They thought that they could take the money and Mason would do the necessary repairs. After all, it was his life at stake.

The inspectors didn’t realize that Mason was so distraught most mornings that he didn’t care if he lived or died. It came when his fiancé realized that he couldn’t pay the light bill and there was nothing to eat in the house, and one day the cook and staff were gone. She then ditched him leaving him with clothing, housing, and cars he couldn’t pay for, a large house she stilled lived in and refused to leave. But she packed up and left last month when she discovered that his Beverly Hills Mansion was in foreclosure.

The cab drove to the private airfield and he paid without leaving a tip. “Next time,” he said.

“Fuck you,” the cabbie said. He appeared to have just come to the country and he had immersed himself in the culture already. His use of the word fuck was spot on. Mason understood because he learned to use that word. It became a part of his everyday language. He liked that word. It expressed his feelings and after using it a few times, he felt stress leave him. So every time he felt the stress of not having money or his crazy family in England, he would walk around and say. “Fuck.”

Standing waiting for his passenger, he walked to the restroom to relieve himself. Stumbling out and not seeing Rachel, who was obviously late, he said, “Where the fuck is she?”

The End of Chapter 1
Swept Away

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Chapter 1: Amanda

I
knew things were too good to be true. Just when Matthew and I sat down to dinner on our Friday date night, his phone rang. Naturally I thought it was something that had to do with his business. His secretary had been calling him more often lately, especially on Saturdays and during dinner. I prepared myself to have dinner alone, and get some reading done for my English Literature class.

“Amanda, I have to take this.” Matthew stood, wearing a pair of soft expensive blue jeans, his long legs complimenting his well-developed body. His casual white shirt hanging on his wide shoulders and muscled chest. He passes his hands through his dark silky hair and winks at me with his green eyes. He even throws me a kiss before walking to the foyer where he drops his keys and phone.

“I forgot to turn it off,” he said with an apologetic glance hunching his shoulders. I glance at him returning a smile, knowing I can’t get enough of that gorgeous face and body.

Walking pass me with phone in hand, he heads to the picture window facing the ocean to return the call. He’s looking at his phone. I grabbed his leg and put my hand between them cupping his sex with my hand.

Pausing a minute, looking down at my hand, his eyes smile in anticipation, and he says, “You better eat everything on your plate, get your energy up because when I return, I want everything you promised me.” His expression erotic as he glides his tongue over his lips making an obscene gesture. He leans in parting my lips, and I let his tongue explore my mouth before he makes his call.

He saunters out of sight and out of my hearing distance, then he returns a few minutes later and walks over to the antique Chinese bowl dropping the phone in. The bowl held all the things he discards from his pockets that chain him to his office and the outside world.

Matthew and I were catching up on what was popular on television. I mentioned Empire, he discussed Game of Thrones and books that are a must read.

And Friday was our day for solidifying our love for each other. We were always together whether it was out to dinner or when I would cook for him. He appreciated that I knew my way around the kitchen. I usually greet him with only an apron and high heels after I cooked his favorite meal, spaghetti and meatballs.

Living in New York, Matthew had become addicted to the dish. He hired my mother as his cook and maid because of her Italian meat balls. She wasn’t Italian of course, but she worked for an Italian family and learned the art of making perfect meatball and sauces.

She handed down her recipes to me, and I would surprise him with my cooking. He appeared to be thrilled that I could fry chicken, and said that he didn’t have to stop at KFC in his limo for a bucket of chicken.

He had said that he wasn’t born with all his money. And it was Alecia who wanted a certain type of lifestyle, and because of that, he took jobs in far off countries only coming home every six months.

When I looked up, Matthew is standing behind me, his hands holding tight on the back of my chair with a strange look on his face. “What’s the matter?”

He sat in the chair to my left, reaching for a lock of my hair, placing it behind my ear and then he says, “That call was from Alecia. She says she will be in San Francisco tomorrow and asked whether I would meet her for dinner.”

“What did you tell her? I hope you told her no.” I didn’t wait for an answer.

“I didn’t tell her no. I’ve been married to her for over ten years. We’re still friends.” He watched at me as my expression changed from a smile to closed lips. “I said I will see her. She could be in trouble and need my help with something.” He’s sitting picking at his steak with his fork. He knew her well enough to be worried.

“I don’t understand. Why would you want to keep a relationship with her? She didn’t want you anymore. If she wanted you, she would have gone to San Francisco with you.” He reaches and place his hand over mine.

“I was thankful that she didn’t come. Can’t you see, I wanted to be with you? It was a mutual agreement. I gave her everything she asked for so I could be with you.” He regarded my still, unmoved expression, then placing his hands between my legs, they moved up my thighs resting under my dress, and on my mound. “You aren’t wearing underwear,” he says surprised his mouth watering, his eyes like saucers showing relief.

Knowing Matthew was trying to distract me, I move his hand away from my sensitive exposed sex. “You’re feeling guilty about our relationship, aren’t you?” Matthew peeked at me, his brow raised. “I know you are, don’t try to hide it. You want me but you can’t let go of the past. Can’t you see I’m your future?” I wait for a response but instead he reaches for a glass of wine, put the glass to his lips and drank all of it in one gulp.

I stood, “If you’re not going to answer me, then I’m sleeping in another room. I’m going to watch TV. I don’t feel like eating now.” I push my plate to the side. Raising my eyebrow and looking at him I hiss, “You know she’s trying to get you back. She’s coming here to ruin what we have together.”

“And what do we have Amanda?” Now, that statement alone pissed me off.

“We have a lot more than what you had with that cold bitch,” I said with bitterness in my words. Hell yes, I was bitter. I didn’t take her man, she gave him away and he’s too blind to know the difference. 

“You don’t have to be snarky, it doesn’t become you, Amanda.” I raise my hand to his face
. I’m not being snide or critical, I’m stating a fact
. Reaching for my hand, Matt tries to calm me. 

“You’re my baby. No one can come between you and me. She can’t tear us apart.” He took my arm pulling me to his lap. I feel the rise of his penis. He grabs my dress and unzips the back. Then he unfastens my bra. “Why do you wear this anyway in the house?” Finally his hands reaches my breasts, and he lets out a moan. Fingering my nipples, his breathing hard, his voice soft, “You know I want to have you when I’m home. Don’t wear all of this with me.” Matthew tugs my dress and bra down to my waist.

He wants everything accessible to him. I can understand his needs and I’ve tried to be and do what he wants in bed. I thought it was enough, but he’s changing our way of life by allowing Alecia into the life we’ve made for each other. Something has got to give because he can’t have me and her.

Holding me on his lap with his hands around my waist, I turn and his face slips to my breasts. His hands and fingers run the length of one nipple, as his mouth surrounds my breast, and his lips hold my nipple, squeezing it. His mouth sucks hard. I feel his warm breath on my breasts and his heart pounds against me. I squirm on his lap increasing his need for me. “You’re making me so hot. Every minute I see those brown nipples I want to come.” He looks into my eyes. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing you haven’t done to me,” I respond, and his mouth presses over mine.

I continue gyrating my butt on his hard thighs, with his penis growing larger and filling up. I know full well what I’m doing to him because he’s doing the same thing to me.

I want him to remember how good it is to be inside me, and that I’m his. I want him to understand that he’s my first, the first man I gave myself to, and the man I want to have children with.

Matthew quickly scoops me up into his arms, rushing to his bedroom, laying me down in the bed. I’m pulling off my dress as it hangs from my body. I watch him hurriedly, impatiently, hastily removing his shirt and pants from his exquisite body. I don’t think I could get enough of looking at his firm hard body, wide amazing chest and those long muscular legs standing naked in front of me. My searing need for him takes hold of me. I could masturbate watching at his chest and arms.

With his penis growing in front of me, I crawl across the bed, and as he stands at the foot ready to enter, I kneel in front of him. Reaching for his cock, I place it in my mouth.

The feeling of sucking his penis, and taking it in as far as it can go into my mouth, blows through me, arousing me all over. My nipples respond and Matthew’s dick is enlarged when he feels my elongated nipples. Looking up at him, his head back, his mouth open, his legs wide, and his hands grasping my hair forcing his cock further into my mouth, I know he wants what I have to offer, but the thought of that cold hearted bitch looming in the back ground, doesn’t lessen my worries, but gives me more to worry about.

She never wanted children for this beautiful man and she couldn’t even be kind to someone who only wanted to be loved. From what Matthew said, she would withhold sex from him when he needed it so badly.

When he would tuck me in at night, when my mother died, I felt his pain. I felt his need to be loved. Alecia never gave that to him. And I suspect that’s why he didn’t want to send me away. He knew that I loved him. She manipulated him then and now she’s back in the picture. I thought I could make him forget her, but she still has control over him for some unknown reason.

As he glance down at my body, his hands on my nipples, with them reaching their peaks, he thrusts hard with lust and hunger into my mouth. He enjoys fucking my mouth standing up, and I enjoy giving him what he wants. But what he desires most of all is to be inside of me, I think.

“I’m coming and I want you. I want to be inside of you when I come,” he says pulling out of my mouth and moving to climb into the bed.

“Tell me you won’t see Alecia tomorrow?” I said looking up at him. His face in anguish. His eyes resisting, glaring at me in defiance.