In The Black

Chapter Six - Blake

 6

Blake

 Standing in the entry way, Denver surveyed her surroundings again.  It didn’t take a genius to know that she was impressed by the home, but I also knew that she was probably confused at the same time.  I told her my name, and yet she never connected the dots.  This was a first for me.  Anywhere else in the world as soon as a person heard the name Blake Steele, everything turned around for me; for the best, and it’s been that way my whole life.  When I told Denver my name, I was glad that she didn’t jump in her seat and pretend to be someone she wasn’t.  A sense of relief washed over me in an instant.  I wasn’t sure if she was playing dumb, like most of the women I met in my thirty-five years, or if she really had no clue who I was.  It’s been exactly an hour and fourteen minutes since Denver Black walked into my life and she sparked a f*****g fire in me that I thought died long ago. 

I studied her frame in my well-lit kitchen and noticed things about her that I hadn’t before.  She was more petite than I assumed, and I’m pretty sure it was because of the amazing high sandals she wore, sandals that I didn’t want her to remove, while I lifted her and f****d her against the refrigerator.  Her black toenail polish matched her manicured nails and I could appreciate a woman who took care of themselves.  Her curves were astonishing.  Her t**s, that wasn’t covered by a bra, sat high in her dress which took every muscle in my body to contain myself from ripping it off her.  Her waist was tiny which led to an ass that was perfectly shaped and I knew to get an ass like that, she’d spent some time in the gym, another sign that she took care of herself.  Her eyes sparkled, and I wasn’t sure if it was my immediate infatuation with her, after she stormed into my garage, demanding gas for her rental, or if her eyes really f*****g sparkled and lastly, I couldn’t help but noticed how well her body responded to me.

Oh, I’ve noticed princess.

I knew that her vacationing with her boyfriend in Key West was bullshit, maybe not the vacationing part, but I knew Denver wasn’t spoken for and she certainly didn’t have a boyfriend waiting for her in Florida.  I had my ways about me, and one thing I prided myself in, is how to read people and there was nothing about Denver that said – off limits.  She lingered in the doorway a little longer before stepping towards me.  I noticed the bounce in her t**s, and as bad as I wanted to say f**k dinner, I knew that in due time I’d have Denver exactly how and where I wanted her.  But first, I must feed her before I ate her.

“This has to be one of the most beautiful homes that I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“What, no homes in D.C.?” I joked.  She walked over to the large sliding glass doors that led to the outdoor pool. 

“And here I thought my apartment was amazing, but this place puts my little two-bedroom to shame.” She answered jokingly, still admiring the outdoor scenery.

“Two bedrooms?  Do you live with someone”? I asked while I continued to chop the fresh strawberries and arugula before me.

“Oh, no it’s just me.  I chose a two bedroom mostly because I enjoy that space” she answered.  It only confirmed my theory of her not having a boyfriend.

She grew silent, and I allowed her to take it all in. 

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?  I hear it comes highly recommended.”

“Sure, that would be nice.”  She answered before walking towards me and sitting on one of the stools across from me.   I pulled a bottle of Pinot grigio from underneath the wine cooler and produced it to her.  She studied the bottle, before snapping her eyes towards me. 

“Steele Garden vineyards?” She questioned in surprise.   I smiled and nodded, popping the cork, I poured her a glass.  She watched me, and I waited for her to make the connection.

She cleared her throat and folded her hands over the stem of her wine glass.  c*****g her head to the side she narrowed her eyes at me.  I’d long since ditched my trucker hat, and although I wasn’t dressed in my normal three-piece suit, I was sure that my familiar face would eventually spark her interests.

“Blake.  Blake Steele” she played with my name on her tongue.  It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard, and I quickly wondered what my name would sound like coming from her in a higher octave. 

“Yes, Princess” I questioned, beckoning her.

Just say it princess.

“Are you the Blake Steele… the… the oil tycoon”? She finally asked. 

“Guilty” I answered with a wink.  “An heir actually, but it’s the same nonetheless” 

What would happen next would determine how dinner and the rest of the night would go.  I’ve been here before, more times than I could remember.  My father prepared me for this moment since I was in prep school.  The man was in his mid-sixties and he was still getting offered p***y on a platter daily.  The very smart, very much in love sixty-three-year-old man, never fell for the bait.  He was still head over heels in love with my mother and never wanted to do anything to compromise the one true love he was grateful to have.  Being as young as eleven years old, I remembered woman trying to use me and my younger sister, Blakely, to get to our father, because apparently to them, one couple couldn’t possibly need the billions that they made in oil.  My father had a plan and being heir to Steele oil, I followed in his footsteps very closely.  Especially when it came to money hungry woman who was looking for nothing more than an opportunity.  I played the game perfectly for years and had no intention on screwing the s**t up now.

“Wow, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you”? She asked.

“It’s no fun, if there aren’t any surprises.” I answered.   Shaking her head, she giggled before taking a sip of the wine.  I watched as her lips pressed against the wine glass, her tongue darted out to lick the traces of wine left along her lips. I thought about how I’d feel with her mouth wrapped around the head of my d**k.  Her mouth, warm and wet, sucking me into oblivion. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”.  She answered me, finally pulling her gaze to meet mine in acceptance.  

“So, what’s for dinner”? She asked.  Stunned, I almost dropped the knife I was using to chop the chicken I was preparing.  She took the news better than I’d expected.  Better than anyone has and due to the circumstances of how the both of us met, I half expected her to fall off the stool she was sitting on, or immediately change her personality and pretend to be someone she wasn’t.  Like they all did, but not her.

“Lemon chicken piccata and for shits and giggles an arugula and berry salad with a homemade strawberry balsamic dressing.”  I answered.  It was a dish I was proud to make, and normally didn’t need a salad to accompany the dish with, but Denver stroked me as a woman who’d want a salad somewhere, plus I promised my ma that I’d tried to eat more greens with my meat, so arugula salad it was.

“Homemade”? She asked with a raise eyebrow. 

“Yeah, it’s my mother’s hobby.  She’s a salad enthusiast and I just happily play along.”  I placed the chicken and all its ingredients into the stainless-steel pan and covered it with the lid.  Setting the timer on the stove I turned my attention to Denver.  She took another sip of her wine and I noticed that her glass was almost empty.  Probably using liquid courage to take in the huge bomb that I’d just dropped on her.  I’m sure the sudden news that she was sitting across from a billionaire was mind boggling and she was probably running the entire encounter over and over in her head.  Fast forward, she was now sitting in one of my many vacation homes, drinking wine from my very own vineyard, and being prepared a meal by a multi billionaire who planned on having her for dessert.

The surprises have only begun.

“Can I top that off for you”? I asked.   She held her glass out and I poured her another glass.

“So, what are your hobbies Blake”?  She asked.  I had to admit to myself, the question was quite surprising.  Most women wouldn’t give a s**t about what I had an interest in.  They would, however, watch and study every investment I made and like a human f*****g calculator and would quickly add up the numbers in their heads mentally making themselves richer, if only they could get me to marry them.  Not a f*****g chance.

I grabbed a beer from the fridge, because although I owned and operated my own vineyard, I still loved a cold beer or a glass of aged scotch or bourbon any day.  Popping the lid off the beer bottle, I took a swig and walked around the counter stopping only a few inches in front of her. I held out a hand and without hesitation she took ahold of it.  Good girl.

Hopping off the barstool, she allowed me to guide her to a door that led to my six-car garage.  I opened the door and flip on the switch, the lights, one bulb at a time, illuminated each one of my hobbies and I watched as her mouth flew open in surprise.

“Ladies first.”  I offered, she walked down the few concrete steps and paused at the bottom surveying the room before she walked over to a 1994 Harley-Davidson.  A motorcycle I bought for a mere eleven hundred dollars but was now worth over twenty thousand.  She ran fingers across the leather seat and her eyes, those damn eyes, sparkled as she admired it.  With her one free hand, she continued to touch and caress almost every inch of the vintage piece.  I made a mental to note, to take her out on it.  I’d never driven the bike after its repairs seeing as though it was a classic ride and like most of my vintage pieces, after restoration, I didn’t drive or ride them, some I resold but pieces that meant a lot to me, one being the Harley that Denver was admiring, wasn’t a piece that I wanted to see go.

“Do you like motorcycles?”

“I love them.” She answered almost immediately, her eyes never leaving the piece. 

“Do you own one”? 

“No, but I’ve always wanted to.  I was told they were too dangerous.  So, it was simply something I admired from afar.”

“Ever ride?”

“Once.  A really long time ago”.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, my ex-boyfriend in college had one.  Our first date was on his motorcycle, just the two of us and his bike.  I was terrified but at the same time, it was exhilarating, different.  I’d never forget it.”

I grunted, and my hand tightened around my beer bottle.  I hadn’t known Denver long, but the idea of her with another man, even before we knew each other existed, made me want to plant of f*****g kiss to her lips, marking her as mine.  

Before I could speak again, she’d moved on to another vintage piece, a 1967 Ford Mustang, that I had completely revamp front t**s to ass. It was painted in a cherry red, with a beige leather hand stitched interior and chrome rims that sat high off the ground.  She was another one that I’d never touched after restoration, but if Denver wanted to go for a joyride in it, I wouldn’t protest. 

She stood far back enough as to not tempt herself into touching the mustang, but not too far where she wasn’t able to enjoy all the little features and charms of the car.

“So, your hobby is collecting cars and bikes?”  Finally walking towards her, I stopped just inches behind her, a place I’d become fond of because I enjoyed the closeness.

“No, I buy vintage cars and bikes and restore them myself.  Some I sell to friends or sell in auctions and others, like the ones you see around you, I keep.  As a matter of fact, that’s what I was in the middle of when you walked into my garage earlier.”

She sucked in a breath and stilled.

“Really?”

“Yes, princess”

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” She apologized.  What she didn’t know was that I was relieved that she had no idea who I was in that moment.  I bought this entire land after it had been vacant for years.  The only thing standing was an old, abandoned gas station.  On a whim, I had this home built, and decided that when I wanted to get away from it all, I’d come out here and restore all the vintage cars and bike that I’d bought.  I’d been doing it for years without any interruptions until today, when this beautiful loud mouth blessing walked into my garage demanding I’d help her.  I wasn’t too keen on signs, and often ignored the f**k out of them because I wasn’t the type of guy to believe in that type of s**t, but there was something about her that made me question every f*****g thing.  In due time, I’d hope that she’d see it my way. 

The timer on the stove, beeped repeatedly indicating that dinner was ready.  We stood there together in silence, I knew that she was still taking it all in.  The rumble of her stomach told me that she wasn’t going to be able to stand there for much longer.  I leaned over her placing my free hand on her stomach and pulled her closer to me.

“It’s time to eat” I whispered in her ear, before pressing my lips to her earlobe.  She nodded her head and we turned in unison and headed towards the kitchen.  I watched as her round ass move rhythmically underneath her tight dress causing me to grit my teeth in anticipation.

I just needed to make it through dinner.