Working Man (13 page)

The first climax was fast and glorious, leaving her breathing hard and trembling. The second one came quickly as the first tremors were slowing down. He gripped her hips even tighter and walked into the bedroom, where a bath sheet was already spread out as if he'd planned for a moment like this. He sat her down on the edge of the bed and he continued to pleasure her, pumping in and out as he moaned out her name. “Turn over, baby. Turn over,” he said urgently.

She turned onto her stomach and knelt, bracing herself for what she knew was coming. He cupped her breasts and slid his hands down to her hips to anchor her against him while he continued to take her to the edge of an abyss where there was nothing but Nick, Nick, Nick. He was palming her butt with one hand while the other one was stroking her pearl. It was throbbing and wet and juicy from his loving and just when Dakota couldn't take any more of this erotic bliss, he began to lose himself in the hot moistness that was his alone. His back arched and every muscle in his body strained as the orgasm came. “Dakota, baby, damn baby, damn,” he groaned over and over. He was still moaning her name when they finally collapsed on the bed and moved into each other's arms, spent and trembling.

When she could finally speak again, Dakota took a great deal of pleasure in telling him, “Dang, you're loud. We're going to have to soundproof this room after the babies are born.”

Nick laughed softly. He rubbed his face against her breasts, taking one in his mouth for a long, tender tribute before he said anything. He was caressing her, tracing a slow circle around her nipple when he finally spoke. “You're going to marry me, aren't you?”

“Yes,” she said sleepily. “I sure am.”

A
s incredible as it seemed, they still went out that night. It was relatively early when they'd started getting ready, so when they woke up it was about ten and Nick still wanted to go. “I want to show off my fiancée. You still game, baby?”

And after a quick tepid shower, she was. She insisted on showering by herself this time, because she couldn't trust Nick to keep his hands off her. “You're a smart lady. Because if I get you naked again I'm not responsible for what happens. I'll use the other shower down the hall,” he said agreeably.

Her hair was a hot mess, so she twisted it up into the all-purpose updo that Billie had taught her years before. It always looked good and it would help control her mane the next day. She was putting on makeup when Nick returned without a stitch of clothing on. He frowned when he saw her brushing on a touch of shadow. “Why do you wear that gunk? It doesn't make you look any prettier than you are,” he said glumly.

“I like it. It makes me feel pretty. And it makes me look sexy,” she replied. “You're not going to tell me you don't think Beyoncé is fine, or Mo'Nique or Jennifer Hudson. Or Oprah,” she said pointing at him with her mascara wand.

“Who is Jennifer Hudson?”

“That gorgeous girl who was in
Dreamgirls.
The newcomer, the one with the powerhouse voice who won the Oscar,” she said patiently.

“Oh. Yeah, they're all fine, especially her,” he said appreciatively. “So what's your point?”

“They all wear makeup in public,” she said patiently. “See? I'm all done. Don't I look pretty?”

Nick stared at her intently then scratched his head. She looked radiant, but not painted. Her face just looked smooth and flawless and her eyes were a little brighter and bigger. And her lips looked so juicy he wanted to suck them off her face. “Okay, you win. You look good, baby.”

“Wait until you see my dress,” she said with a wicked smile. While he disappeared into his cavernous closet, she slipped into the strapless bustier worn with the dress. The dress was simple and sexy with a halter neckline, a fitted bodice and a dropped waist. The skirt was flared and short, perfect for dancing. With it she wore open-toed shoes in taupe that had a three-inch heel and made her legs look a foot longer. It was another trick learned from Billie. “Never, under any circumstances, wear white dress shoes. Taupe makes your foot look smaller and your leg longer,” Billie had told her.

She had a teeny little gold mesh evening bag that hung from her wrist and held only a mirror, lip gloss and her cell phone. “I'm going downstairs,” she called to Nick and she suited action to words with Cha-Cha galloping ahead of her. “I wish you wouldn't do that,” she sighed. “I keep telling you I can fall faster than you can run and I'm going to squash you one day if you're not careful.”

She decided to get a glass of water while she waited for Nick, but he appeared in the doorway to the kitchen before she could do so. Her smile lit up her face. “Ooh, I got me a pretty boyfriend,” she said. “You look quite dashing, honey.”

He really did, wearing a pair of light-colored slacks, a sage-green linen sport coat and an ivory silk T shirt. He also had on a thick gold chain around his neck and a gold bracelet on his wrist, but they accentuated his masculinity and didn't take anything away from the overall effect. In the meantime, he was looking at Dakota with his heart in his eyes. “You look too good to be going out, baby. Somebody might try to hit on you and I'll have to deal with him. You got enough money for bail?”

She gleefully held up her tiny purse. “Not a dime, so you'd better behave. Let's go before you sweet-talk me back up those stairs. Cha-cha, you behave yourself. Don't do anything to disgrace the family name,” she said.

The cat was going to be confined to the solarium and the living room with her toys, food and cat box, so there was nothing she could destroy in her active play. She would probably fall asleep on the big soft towel and pillow Nick had provided her. They left by the back door, and, after Nick helped her into the Escalade, he drove her to their mysterious destination. It was a nightclub called Singin' the Blues. It looked rather unassuming on the outside, but the inside was really nice. There were big plush booths all around the room, a dance floor in the center and cozy tables that sat two or four people. Each table had a round glass top with a white candle in a blue holder in the center. Dakota liked it at once. It was intimate and kind of sexy and she saw what Nick meant about attire. The clientele ranged from college age to senior citizens and there was a wide variety of dress from very casual to very dressy. There was a menu with limited items, although Dakota wasn't at all hungry for food. It was the music she was curious about.

A place like this was bound to have some great music and in a very few minutes the MC announced the second set of the legendary bluesman, Donald “Road Dawg” Slocum. The audience erupted into applause. Any fan of the blues had heard of Road Dawg and they were primed for a great performance. Nick and Dakota were seated near the stage and when Road Dawg came out with his band, the applause was deafening. He launched into one of his signature tunes and was wailing back on his slide guitar. The music was transporting everyone in the room into a blues nirvana until he suddenly stood and motioned to the band to stop playing.

“Baby girl. Is that you? What you doing in Chicago, girl?” He held his hand out to Dakota and she blushed as she got up from her seat to greet him. “Y'all excuse me, but this here is my god-daughter, Dakota. I used to change her diapers when she was just a little bitty thing. Now look at her! Come gimme some sugar, baby girl and let me get back to playin' before these people want they money back.”

When she made her way back to the table she sat down to a round of applause from the audience and tried to look innocent while Nick stared at her in amazement.

“You're just full of surprises, aren't you?” He had to lean over and whisper in her ear in order for her to hear him.

She just smiled and gave him a sassy wink.

 

The next day, Nick couldn't stop talking about their evening. They were in the kitchen making the fruit salad. Nick had gallantly sliced and seeded the smaller melons and he'd removed the watermelon from its shell, so all Dakota had to do was cut them up into bite-sized pieces, which she was doing rapidly while Nick was going on and on about spending the evening with Road Dawg Slocum. After the show, they'd gone to his dressing room and then on to an all-night eatery and had chicken and waffles with his band. “I haven't had that much fun in a long time, baby.” Nick was straddling a chair and watching her deftly peel kiwi fruit and slice it into the mixture. “And I still can't believe you can sing like that. You been holdin' out on me, woman. What other talents do you have?”

Near the end of his set, Road Dawg, or Uncle Donnie as she called him, had brought her on stage to sing with him. “I taught her this song when she was a knee baby, I'ma see does she remember it.” She definitely did, and they belted out “Mocking-bird” together. Ike and Tina couldn't have done it better. Nick was absolutely astounded, but Dakota was nonchalant.

“My daddy wanted to be a bluesman. He never wanted anything else more in his life, except my mother. She was a singer, too. She'd actually done some recording and she was about to launch a career, or try to. But after Daddy got out of the service, Mama was pregnant with Johnny and it didn't make sense to try to chase after a dream when there were mouths to feed. So Daddy gave it up and went to work in the steel mills and never looked back. Mama didn't either. They still love to sing, but they sing in church now. And Daddy used to sing at union rallies and stuff. Honey, show that man a microphone and it's all over,” she said fondly.

“We can all sing, but none of us pursued it. We all got interested in other things. Johnny is in labor law, big surprise, Billie is modeling and I'm writing. Billie has the best voice, though. She could get a recording contract in a heartbeat if she tried, but I don't think she will. She's about sick of the spotlight. She just wants to settle down and live a normal life.”

Now she was slicing starfruit into the big bowl of melon, pineapple, blueberries, strawberries, kiwi and peaches. “Look my fingers are all pruny,” she exclaimed, holding them up. “I think I'm about all fruited out. Can you put this in the refrigerator for me?”

Nick didn't hear her. He was still picturing how sexy she'd looked on the small stage and the powerful way she'd belted out the song. “That's why you yell so loud,” he said, laughing at the affronted expression on her face. He got up from his chair and cupped her face in both hands. “That's a good thing, baby. I love to hear that sound. In fact, since you need to wash that fruit juice off you, I can take you upstairs and you can let out a shout or two before we leave.”

“You need to quit, Nick,” Dakota said, but she didn't sound like she meant it. “You get pretty vocal yourself, so you needn't talk about me.” She was finished with the salad and gathered up all the peels and seeds and other refuse into a plastic bag. She wiped the counter off, sprayed it with an antibacterial cleaner and wiped it again. “But you know what? I like that sound, too. And we do have a couple of hours before we leave,” she said, looking at his hard body as he put the salad away.

He stood up straight and closed the refrigerator door. He leaned one shoulder against it with his arms crossed. “So what are you saying, Miss Lady?”

“I'm saying…race you upstairs!” Dakota laughed as she took off for the bedroom, but Nick beat her there. “You cheated! You took the back stairs.”

“Yeah, but you win, baby. Come here and see what I've got for you.”

Dakota dissolved in laughter as he threw her over his shoulder and hauled her away for some hot soapy fun.

 

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. It was held in the backyard with Paul manning the grill as usual and a long table set up with, as Nick had predicted, a ton of food. Ebony was elated by her gift from Dakota. “You haven't opened it yet,” Dakota said with a smile. “You might be disappointed in the contents.” Ebony had just hugged her tightly and thanked her again. “Whatever it is, I know I'll love it. This was so sweet of you, Miss Dakota.”

Patsy was very happy to see the fruit salad, though, and graciously accepted it and the warm hug Dakota gave her. “Thank you so much,” she said, handing the bowl off to her oldest daughter, Brianna. “I didn't have time to make one and this looks just delicious. Brianna, this is Miss Dakota, the lady Ebony's been talking about all summer. Dakota, this is Brianna. She goes to Princeton,” she added proudly.

Dakota also met Wayne and Paul, Jr., the two handsome sons. Paul, Jr., was at Morehouse and Wayne was still in high school, something that was causing his father a lot of joy. “Just one more to get out of the house and then it's just me and my baby,” he gloated as he turned over a slab of ribs that looked and smelled mouthwatering.

Dakota insisted on helping Patsy, who was equally firm in saying everything was under control. “You can just sit down and keep me company for a minute while I finish decorating the cake. My children won't stand for a bakery cake. I have to make a cake from scratch or they raise the roof,” she said. “I'm just about done, though.”

She was adding a fancy design with a pastry bag when she asked a surprising question. “So how did you like modeling in a fashion show?”

Dakota's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She wouldn't have thought that Nick would have mentioned it to anyone. Patsy saw her surprise and waved her hand. “Oh, you're wondering how I know about it. Leticia called me to spread the news,” she said with a sniff. “She was at the show with some of her friends and she couldn't wait to broadcast it. Nosy woman. And just between us girls, she likes to keep up mess. I was so glad when Nick divorced her I didn't know what to do first, jump for joy or say a prayer of thanks, so I did both. She was just a horrible woman, just awful. I still can't believe that Nick gave her a job, but that's Nick for you. He's always doing things like that,” she said absentmindedly. “Now it's done. I'm just going to let that set until it's time to bring it out. Would you like something to drink, dear?”

Most of what Patsy was saying was like a low buzz in Dakota's ears. She was still stunned by the news that Leticia Banks, Nick's office manager, was also his ex-wife. How did he happen to miss passing that little bit of information on to me? she thought furiously. Suddenly she felt ill. She was lightheaded and a little bit sick to her stomach. She wanted to go home right now, and she didn't see how she was going to make it through the party. More importantly, she didn't know how she was going to deal with Nick. How could he have kept this from her?