Across The Tracks (17 page)

“Lisa, will you marry me?” Rich asked on TV.

Lisa was watching the television with her mouth wide open. She had not registered what was actually taking place. She just stared at Rich on the television, holding up a ring while the cameras and reporters were firing questions at him until her dad said, “Lisa, what do you say?”

She turned to look at her dad and asked, “What?”

He repeated, but jerked his head towards the left, “What do you say?”

Lisa looked to where he jerked, turned around and saw Rich on one knee with the same box he had on TV in his hands. She gasped while touching her mouth with her fingertips and chest with her palm.

“Will you marry me?” Rich asked.

“Are you serious, Rich?” Lisa asked.

“Of course he serious darling, he asked you on TV, can’t get no more serious than that,” Uncle Billy chimed.

“Uh, uh…” Lisa mumbled.

“We fit in every way, Lisa. We are perfect for each other. Make me a whole man, officially. Baby, marry me.”

“Y-yes, Rich. Of course,” Lisa exclaimed while the rest of the family yelled and cheered.

Rich got up, put the engagement ring on her finger and pulled her in for a long kiss.

After a couple of minutes of them kissing, Uncle Billy cleared his throat and then he coughed/choked out, “Let’s eat - today.”

They pulled apart while Michelle and Jessica brought the food out so everyone could eat. The evening seemed to go by quickly as people ate and left, assuming that the newly engaged couple wanted to be alone. Probably because Rich was trying to wrap up their dinner only 10 minutes after she said yes. He really did have some
assholish
ways. That did not change, that was for sure.

Lisa could not believe that he actually proposed on television. He said it was because she always had a grand way of doing things. Stealing the ball and scoring on him in public, calling him out on his bad law practices in public and then professing her love for him in public – he had to do something. Thus, it had to be public. Lisa thought that was funny and she knew exactly what she had to do that night. Afterward, they made love all night until they both were passed out on the floor.

The next morning, Lisa was awakened by Rich yelling at the front door. He came to the bedroom with the paper in his hands and a chagrined look on his face. “Really, Lisa. You just had to do it, didn’t you?”

She bit back her smile and asked, “Huh?”

He held up the Philadelphia Daily Newspaper with a picture of her engagement ring on her hand and in big, bold white letters, it read:
She said YES!

THE END

Thank you for reading
Across the Tracks
. I hope you enjoyed Rich and Liz’s story. My first time falling in love with the concept of interracial romance was in the movie,
A Bronx Tale
. I was a teenager and I will never forget how much this film stayed with me because I wanted the most unlikely couples at that time to be together.
Two different people from
across the tracks
, trying to figure out that thing called love. People that have been or are in interracial or intercultural relationships can attest to having to deal with their own internal biases or conflicts before they can deal with the external. That is why I wanted to write this book. To address some of those issues and reiterate that it is possible to overcome.

If you follow me, you know that I like series. Therefore, be on the lookout for Josh, Jessica and Michelle’s stories. 

Thanks again!

Keep reading to get a sneak peek of
Power of the Pen
- Pre-Order
Here
.

Chapter 1: Drinks on Me

“Bitch,” I exclaim, wiping the salty Martini from my face.

Footsteps started to retreat, as I tried to wipe my stinging eyes free of the drink I would never conceive of ordering, yet alone drinking. Women drank what I order them. Period.

Nobody must have seen the showdown because the music was still playing, people were still laughing and talking loudly and the bartender’s machines were still running. The Ember Lounge, known as ‘The Em’ was a bar/lounge that usually held professional lawyers, doctors or businessmen, and women. Probably because that was the only people that lived in Bowie, Maryland. This section was often referred to as ‘Bougie’, Maryland. Most African-American professionals lived out here, about forty minutes from Washington, D.C. and ten or more minutes from any resemblance of downtown Bowie. That still doesn't explain why I'm here since I'm white or as my colleagues say ‘Caucasian.’

A wet napkin was placed in my hand, which was now covered with the drink. The softness of the cloth-like napkin soothed my eyes tremendously. Once I was able to open them, I saw Yasmine looking at me with a smirk on her face.

“Someone you know, I gather,” Yasmine asked, showing her card.

Jealousy.

“Actually,” I raise an eyebrow at her, “I have no idea who that woman was.” 

It was evident that Yasmine was playing it cool because she and I were just fucking. However, I could perceive there was something off about her now. My hand raised to get the bartenders attention.

“Closing out, boss.” He asked.

“Yes,” sliding my card to him.

“Be right back.”

Yasmine looked away from me as if she was embarrassed. Shit, I’m the one that should be embarrassed since I smelled like olives, lemon, and liquor. This is why we would only be ‘just fucking’. Due to her attitude, I was no longer in the fucking mood.

The bartender returned my card and as I put it back in my wallet, I said, “I’m headed home, alone.”

Yasmine blinked at me, “Why, I thought we were hooking up tonight,” she replied with a small voice.

“Not in the mood.”

“Awe, come on Z,” she whined, “it’s just a drink and the bonus is, I can lick it off of you.”

While the thought of her using that naughty tongue intrigued my dick, my head would not let that happen. A random woman that I have never seen before just came up to me and threw her Martini in my face. There was no words exchanged, no fighting or nothing. When I finally open my eyes, the woman I am here with is smirking at me. Not that I want a woman fighting over me, I do not go for childish, petty women, but do something instead of looking at me like I deserved it. 

Stuffing my wallet in my pants pocket, I headed towards the door without another word. Her footsteps were behind me, so I guess she thought that I was not serious.

The cold wind swept across my face as fall made its exit and winter entered in with a bang. My jacket was in the truck on the other side of the parking lot. Not that
The Em
was crowded at seven in the evening, but because I did not want anyone that had too much to drink to throw up on or near my car. Nor try to have sex in the bed of my truck or scrape it on the way out of the lot. All of these things have happened before, so I was not making it up.

My Chevy Silverado was only a year old, but my last truck had seen plenty of things and I was not even a participant in most of the events. I had that truck for 14 years, my sweet Olivia was her name and while, my current baby, Lola, is new and shiny, she has nothing on my Liv. Well, besides heated seats, automatic locks, doors, keyless entry, sunroof, electronic everything, a navigation system, Bluetooth and a bunch of other shit the dealer tried to sell to me. As a non-tech savvy individual, the ride felt nice, so that is why I bought the truck. Standing at six feet, four inches, it was big enough for me to be in and not look like a clown car and small enough that I didn’t look like I did not belong in it. Just some insight on why men buy cars.

“Wait up,” Yasmine called after me because I was half-way across the parking lot.

“Not in the mood,” I repeated through my teeth.

She caught up to me, grabbing my arm, which I jerked away from her. 

“What did I do?” her pace slowed, as the clit-clat of her high heels were not as rapid.

“Nothing, is what you did,” I noted with purposeful indifference in my voice.

Lola was a few feet away now, I turned with my hands in the air, backing up towards my car.

“Zeeee,” she moaned, “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”

What was her deal? We had only been together for a month and a half now. She approached me at my table, where I was signing autographs. Yasmine, however, did not only give me a book to sign but bent down with her blouse and bra undone. Displaying her surgically altered breast, then directed that I should put my phone and room number under my signature. I am a single male, in a city that I know not of. She was a willing participant of what would help me distress, so I was okay with putting my number and room number in her book.

Her lips pouted when she moaned her nickname for me again. “Zeee,” she sashayed over to me as I leaned on the truck.

“Yasmine,” I forcefully bit out, “I’m not in the fucking mood.”

“Not according to my friend,” she pointed to the bulge in my pants.

Damn.

When she reached me, her body leaned into mine, slowly sliding herself down so that her knees were bent, her ass was resting on her ankles and hands were unzipping my pants. Yes, in the parking lot. The woman was fearless and I would not stop her because I did need a release.

“Let Yassy make it all better,” Yasmine purred to my dick.

She pulled down my tailored pants, slipping her hands into my black briefs. My fists tightened at the sides of my body because I knew what I was about to get. The woman had a talented mouth. Looking down, her ass bounced around while she balanced her weight on her heels. Fucking genius. She pulled me out, to lick around the head.

Oh.

Yasmine did not wait long to take me, as I did not wait long to wrap her hair around my head to guide her willing mouth. She kept trying to deep throat me, every chance she got, which showed initiative, but I just wanted her to suck right now. Her moan spurred me on as I bent to see exactly how much of her mouth I filled. Size was never a problem because if anything I was too big, but Yasmine had a big mouth, and she knew how to use it. Her whole mouth was full of me. She looked up with a ‘seeking approval look’ in her eyes, but she would not get any of that from me. She was warned that I was not in the mood. Therefore, me holding her head down, so she could take more of me was all she’d get tonight.

My haze was broken, when I saw movement in a car. A woman’s head emerged from somewhere in the car and she was looking directly at Yasmine and me. She was in the driver’s seat with her hands on the steering wheel, as if she was ready to leave. Her mouth was open, her cheeks were flushed and she looked like she belonged on the cover of Ebony Magazine with her medium-sized afro.

Her car was one row over and three cards down, facing our direction. We were in her direct line of sight. Sitting in a fairly new Land Rover, she was high enough to see everything. Yet, she made no faces, no move to leave, just watched with her lips slightly open. It was turning me on and I was close so there would be no stopping.

Yasmine could feel my excitement because she started bobbing her head vigorously while bouncing her ass. My eyes were on the brown beauty in the car, but I could feel her movement. The woman must have realized I was staring at her because her eyes locked with mine.

“That’s right,” I whispered.

Yasmine moaned, causing all sorts of vibrations to go through my body.

“Yes, yes,” my mouth summered the response.

Her eyes still locked on mine. I took control of Yasmine bobbing, by pulling her hair until she stopped. My cock stroked into her mouth until I hit the back of her throat; all while watching the woman watch me. She knew I was getting off to her watching me because her mouth dropped open further. She was not scandalized or appalled, I would have bet my advance money, that her pussy was wet, her nipples hard and her body was on fire, just from watching.

I kept at Yasmine until I felt close enough to cum down her throat. “Take it all honey,” growling it to the woman in front of me, but talking to the woman in the SUV.

Miss Watcher lips moved like she was saying something back to me, then she licked her lips.

Goddamn, that was my ending. My hips began to rock into Yasmine until I came hard down her throat. She swallowed each and every drop. When she rose, I pulled up my pants, and said, “Thanks.”

“So, that was the beginning, now for the rest,” Yasmine tried to lean on me, but I moved to open the door.

“Good night, Yasmine,” I said.

“What?” she exclaimed.

“You heard me, good night.”

“I…I thought…” Yasmine stammered.

“You thought wrong.” I retorted.

Her eyes turned glacial, “You fucking bastard. If I had a drink, I’d throw it in your damn face,” she snapped, then turned on her heels to leave.

“Get in line,” I called back to her.

Her hand went high in the air, as she flipped me the bird. I shook my head, still leaning on my truck when my eyes caught the woman still staring at me. A smile spread across my face as I closed my door back. Slightly leaning against the body of the truck, I crossed one leg over my ankle, in an attempt to get comfortable, but also as an invite for Ms. Watcher to come and get it. The way my dick was feeling even after just releasing myself, I could be in the mood for her tonight. The corner of her mouth went up like she could read my thoughts, then her engine turned as she peeled out of the parking lot.

Damn.

Oh well.

Back to the living quarters and my own personal hell.

--

I hope you enjoyed the sneak peek from
Power of the Pen
: This book can be pre-ordered
here
.