Saving Her: BWWM Interracial Romance (2 page)

“Fine. But I go in first.”

“You can't let them know you know me.”

“Fair enough. Once inside, you can clean up a little in their bathroom.”

“Damn, lady. You got a lot of rules.”

I turned and headed into the closest restaurant – a high scale one. The host recognized me immediately.

“I'm paying for the meal for the next hundred people whether I know them or not.”

He snatched my Visa Black Card from my hand and smiled. I had pulled the stunt a few other times. It usually cost me about five or ten grand to pay for a hundred guests behind me, but whenever I did it my name exploded on social media. I took a seat at my favorite seat and watched the door for the homeless man to walk in. Miley Cyrus ran through my mind.

The man without a name or a home walked in. Some of the other guests in the restaurant turned to watch him closely, but Jackson went right over and welcomed him. They had an exchange I couldn't hear, but I saw the host point toward the restrooms. Luckily, the homeless guy headed toward them. I turned back around then raised my hand to call a waiter.

I had ordered myself a Mediterranean salad with all the extras. For my lunch guest, I got the thickest steak they had on the menu. Before I finished, the man walked up and sat down across from me. His clothes still smelled awful, but he had wet his hair down and slicked it back. He had managed to clean most of the dirt from his skin at least.

“How do you like your steak?” I asked, still holding a menu.

“Rare.” He looked up at the waiter. “Can I get fries for my side?”

“Of course, sir. I will be back shortly with your drinks.”

He turned his gaze back to me. “Did you get me a beer?” His eyes were deep blue and captivating.

“No, it's lunchtime.”

“Figures. I knew there had to be a catch.”

“You really want to get drunk this early in the day?”

“I'm going to be in a lot of pain in a few hours, lady, and I want to start numbing it now.”

“Is something bad going to happen to you?” I asked, intrigued.

“My body is going to start craving what I need. It's hell.”

“Oh, the drugs?”

“Yeah, the drugs. Thanks for lunch, by the way.”

“No problem. I just can't be your sugar mama for drugs, okay?”

“Damn, there goes my next question.”

I smiled politely without showing any teeth. “What's your name? I'm Tasha.”

“Jack.”

“What's your story, Jack?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes. I do. I tend to say what I mean and mean what I say.”

“Powerful black woman. I love it.”

Before I could chastise him for calling me a “black woman,” the waiter returned with our pitcher of iced tea sans alcohol. He drank the first glass down in a few massive gulps then poured another.

“I was hoping you were in a New York spirit.”

“No Long Islands. Sorry. You were about to tell me your story.”

“Was I?”

“I think so.”

“Is that what this is about?” He cocked his head to the side.

“I don't know. I like to help people.”

“Then buy me some drugs so my body doesn't go into withdrawal.”

I frowned. He was persistent. “No. Why did you get started?”

“Fallujah.”

“Excuse me?” The word sounded familiar.

“Iraq. The second Gulf War. I was one of the first Marines to hit Fallujah, and I was one of the few that made it out without scars. Well, without any physical reminders.”

“You started taking drugs because of the war? What's your drug of choice?”

“When the nightmares wouldn't stop and I couldn't get any help from the VA hospital, I took some of my buddy's Oxycodone pills. I was on a waiting list to talk to someone and get some help, but I think they lost my name on a list or something.”

The moment he mentioned Oxycodone pills, I tried to mask my emotions as he continued.

“The pills helped a hell of a lot. At least for a while. I quickly built up a tolerance. I needed more and more. And those little fucking pills are expensive. I didn't want the break from reality to end.

My girlfriend at the time turned me on to heroin, which is a hell of a lot cheaper than Oxycontins. They're based on the same stupid plant.”

I nodded my head. Our food arrived. He dove into his steak before the waiter had even left the table. I stared at my salad, poking at the lettuce and tomatoes with my fork.

“You're not hungry?” he asked.

“Yes, I am, but I'm thinking about what you said.”

“About being a junkie? My story is not much different than the other junkies,” he said, his mouth full of food.

“But you served our country. Don't you feel like they turned their back on you?”

“Not really. I'm a Marine. We don't complain. Well, not too much. That's why my woman broke up with me.”

“Complaining?” I speared a piece of tomato and put it in my mouth.

“Yeah. She complained about stupid shit all the time. When I was in Fallujah, it was like I opened up my eyes for the first time in my life. I realized that you can't sweat the small things like whether I put my towel in the hamper or not all the time.”

“Well, no one likes a slob.”

He looked up at me. “You like to speak your mind, don't you?”

“Definitely. Does that scare you?”

“No, no, not at all. I like a strong woman.”

With that, he went back to devouring the food on his plate and half of the basket of bread. I finished my salad and moved to the main course. We ate in silence. Every so often, I caught him looking at me or he saw me staring at him.

By the time we finished eating, I had a brilliant idea. My father wouldn't like it, of course, but I didn't care. I had made up my mind by the time the waiter brought us the bill.

“I think I can help you,” I said.

“You're going to buy me some drugs after all?”

“No, I can't do that for you, but I can help. I have a guest house that no one's using right now...”

“Oh, I see. You want me to be your Kato.”

“What? No.”
He’s witty
, I thought. “But I can help you get back on your feet. Promise me you'll not use drugs in the house, but you can stay as long as you need.”

My naivety about heroin showed.

“I can do that. Thanks. A place to crash would be nice.”

“I have connections too. We can get you cleaned up and maybe find you some security work or something.”

“Fuck guns.”

“Excuse me?” I wasn't accustomed to someone using such language in front of me.

“I said fuck guns. I will never pick one up again, and I don't think anyone wants that kind of security guard.”

“We'll see. The point is I want to help you.”

“Why?” He stared into my eyes.

“Because I can.”

“That's bullshit,” he snapped. “But whatever. I accept your offer. I got nothing to lose.”

After I retrieved my credit card, I told Jackson to put the rest of the bill on my tab. Instead of having the stinky man in my car, I called Edward and told him to give him a ride.

“You stay here and I'll send someone for you,” I said.

“Sure. Sounds great.” He rolled his eyes.

“What?”

“I know you’re lying, lady. There’s no way you’re going to actually help me out, but it’s okay. Really.”

I shook my head. “You don’t know me.”

“No, but I know women like you,” he said.

“Whatever. My driver will be here in about half an hour. Be here or not. It’s your call.”

I walked away, peeved at him for doubting my sincerity. Once in my car, I called Edward and told him to pick up the man.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked.

“Yes, Edward. And don’t tell my parents, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Great. Call me when you get back.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The drive back to my house went by quickly. All I could think about was the man. Knowing more about him changed nothing, of course, but it was interesting. I waited in the downstairs kitchen for the call from Edward.

While it was a bit early, I treated myself to a glass of nice red wine. Half the bottle later, my phone rang. Edward let me know they had arrived. I left the bottle on the island in the center of the kitchen and headed outside to greet them.

I smiled as the Rolls Royce pulled in the driveway. Maybe it was the wine, but I was satisfied with myself. You’re a good woman, I thought as the car stopped. The front door opened, and Jack got out of the car, looking around.

“Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks. This is my house, which you are not to enter. You'll be in the guest house out back.”

I gave him a tour of the small house and reminded him of the agreement.

“You're not going to do any more drugs, right?”

“No, Miss.” His gaze darted around the room.

I did not understand how stupid making him agree to such a proposition was.

“Good. I'll leave you to get settled. Maybe we can have dinner later tonight. Feel free to take a shower.”

“I get it. I smell. Thanks.”

He took off his shirt in front of me. I watched a moment, seeing his muscular chest and abdomen, before I turned and walked out of the guest house.
Those abs!
I thought as I went back to the main house. He was a dirty man, a druggie, but he had a nice body.

Is it because of his time in the military?
I wondered.

I rushed upstairs to the third floor for some alone time. Once in my bedroom, I stripped off all my clothes and climbed on the bed. As I laid on my back, I gently ran my fingers over my bare stomach.

Slowly, I moved them higher, my long, thin fingers caressing my breasts, teasing them. I avoided touching my nipples, the pleasure and anticipation building up. Wanting to savor the moment, I touched my soft, supple skin, getting closer and closer to my dark nips.

When I finally touched them at the same time, a jolt of pleasure rushed through my body as I concentrated on them, lightly pinching both at the same time. They were erect and sensitive. I reached down with my right hand and placed it over my clean-shaven mound.

The light pressure felt great, but I knew what was next. My fleshy, pink lips opened as I rubbed myself with one hand while pinching a nipple with the other.

Images of Jack's rock hard chest ran through my mind as I continued to rub my wet pussy. White men were never my thing, but there was something about him. A moan escaped my lips as I continued my afternoon delight alone.

Would he go down on me? Was he good at it? I bit my bottom lip as an all too familiar feeling ran through my body. My orgasm approached quickly.
This is it. I’m going to come
. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

When my orgasm washed over me, I pulled my hand away and drifted back to Earth. As my breathing returned to normal, a slight pain in my elbow throbbed. Gradually, the pain broke through the afterglow of my orgasm.

I got out of bed and retrieved two pills from the new bottle in my purse. They were my real lover. I went into the bathroom and took them with a full glass of water. My body felt better as soon as the drugs entered my bloodstream.

Crawling back into bed, I soon fell asleep. A nap in the afternoon wasn't common for me, but I wanted to be well rested if I met Jack for dinner later in the evening. As soon as I closed my eyes, I drifted off to sleep. The bed became a comfortable cloud and enveloped me with a soft hug.

FOUR

I woke to the sound of the intercom in my room buzzing. It had incorporated itself into my dream, which caused me some confusion when I opened my eyes and I still heard it. When I came to my senses, I got up and crossed the room to see what was going on.

“Hello?”

“I'm sorry, Miss Lords. It's Edward. That man...”

“Great. What happened?” I interrupted.

“Your guest has left the premises and taken some items with him.”

“What? You’re kidding?” I sighed. “I'll be down in a minute.”

“Very well, ma’am.”

I threw on some clean clothes then headed downstairs. Edward was waiting at the front door to the guesthouse.

“What happened?”

“Security noticed a car outside of the gate. When we went to investigate, it had left, but I thought it might have been your guest, so I tried to check on him in the guesthouse. The silverware is missing.”

“Anything else?” I asked, frowning.

“I don't think he had enough time, Miss.”

I nodded my head. “Okay. Here's what I want you to do. Go find him and bring him back.”

A perplexed expression came over his face. “Are you sure”

“Yes, please,” I insisted.