CHAPTER TWO
1214 Words
CHAPTER TWO
Thirty-three-year-old Kaya followed Seven onto the elevator.
Seven pushed the button and leaned on the wall as Kaya struggled not to drop to her knees and take him in her mouth right there.
She had no business in this elevator but the moment Seven walked into the museum she’d felt a hotness between her legs she hadn’t experienced outside her naughtiest dreams.
“What’s wrong with me?” She scratched under her bangs. “We can’t do this.” She reached for the buttons but he grabbed her hand.
“We’re doing it.”
He was a striking man with rosy-white skin and trimmed copper-brown hair. His mischievous brown eyes warned her she might regret doing this.
“Take a chance, Kaya.” A smile of mystery crossed his lips. “Think of what this experience will do for your art. It’ll open doors in your mind you never knew existed. Isn’t pushing boundaries the reason you paint?”
The doors opened and before she could exit the elevator, he grabbed her head, overtaking her mouth with explosive kisses. “You taste as good as you look.” He kissed her again, pulling her from the elevator.
“We can’t do this.” She pushed on his chest but kept her mouth on his. “Seven—”
“Where’s the storage room?”
She pointed down the desolate, cream-colored hallway. “The one by the water fountain.”
“How did you know where it was, anyway?” He snatched off his blazer on the way to the room.
She kissed him, savoring the pear flavor of the champagne on his lips. “I’ve been here tons of times.”
“I’m about to give you a tour.” Seven opened the door with his back to it, his Omega watch glimmering. “Come on.” He shoved Kaya into the musty room, flicked on the lights and threw her on the table on top of rolled up poster boards and decorations. “Yeah.” He pulled her legs into the air. “Keep ‘em like that.”
Kaya moaned, squeezing her knees together as he lifted her dress and ripped off her black panties.
“Stay like that.” With sweat beading on his forehead, Seven opened his zipper and snatched his d**k from his pants without lowering them. “God, you’re so beautiful.” He kissed the back of her thigh. “I can’t wait to f**k you.”
“Don’t wait,” Kaya urged, not believing she was about to f**k a man she hadn’t known twenty minutes in a crowded museum. “f**k me, Seven.”
He slapped a black condom on his meaty shaft and eased the tip inside her moist crevice.
“Ah.” Kaya’s body seized from the shock of having him inside her. “Yes.” She leaned up. “Right there.” He hit the nerves of her walls, releasing a sensation that made her toes melt.
“Yeah.” Holding her thighs, he pressed harder and harder, each thrust widening her beyond comprehension. “Ooh.” He closed his eyes, sweat dribbling off his red face. “I’ve never wanted a woman so much.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Kaya chuckled in between moans. “It can’t be your first time f*****g a woman like this. Oh.” Her ass burned against the table due to the friction. “Seems like human nature for you.”
“No.” He panted, his face contorting into bizarre desperation. “It’s just you. I wanted you the first time I saw you.” He pushed her to him, stabbing her hole with his brick hard c**k. “I’m coming.”
“Ooh.” Kaya sucked her finger as footsteps approached outside the door. “Hurry.” She grabbed the sides of the table as he exploded into the condom. “Yes!”
Seven fell over on her, his semi-hard d**k still enough to keep her hot.
“Keep pumping me.” She dug her fingernails into the back of his shirt. “I’m coming, too.” She climaxed, her p***y swallowing his d**k. “Seven!”
“Jesus.” He pushed his sweaty finger into her mouth. “Now how about we get a cup of coffee?”
Kaya lay over, laughing. “Are you for real?”
“Why not?” He kissed her. “We’ve already broken the ice, I’d say.”
“Wow.” Kaya rose, fixing her dress. “I can’t believe we did that. This...isn’t me.”
He took the soggy condom off and tossed it in the wastebasket by the door. “Sometimes it’s good not to be you.” He shoved his d**k back inside his pants and zipped his fly. “Usually I last longer but I wanted you so bad.”
“Don’t apologize.” She got her torn panties off the floor and he took them.
“Sorry.” He put them in his pocket. “I’ll buy you more.”
She laughed.
“Let’s get that coffee.” He kissed her cheek.
“My agent drove us.” She combed her hair in place. “Let me tell her I’m leaving and I’ll meet you at your car.”
“Okay.” He walked her to the door, holding her hand. “It’s the red Bentley.” He winked. “You can’t miss it.”
****
“Stop saying we’re strangers.” Seven perched his arm on the back of the bench, sitting across from Kaya in a coffee shop in downtown Houston. “I know plenty about you.”
“Like what?” Kaya took a bite of her caramel-apple coffeecake, which zapped her taste buds.
“That like me you’ve been into art since childhood.” Seven rocked his head, eyes flashing. “You make your money from grants and sponsorships, right?”
“Yes.” Kaya tingled, sipping the cinnamon coffee. “I’m sponsored by the Black Artists of Texas Association. I also get grants if I’m lucky.”
“If you’re lucky,” Seven muttered. “Anyone would be a fool not to sponsor you.”
“I’ve started doing art for people on commission.” She coughed into her fist. “I’m working on a piece for Aluna Jakande.”
“Hold on.” Seven paused in mid-chew. “The African fashion designer?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. My mother loves her clothes.” Seven rubbed his cheek, mouth open. “How did you score that?”
“She was visiting from Philly and came to an exhibit I was featured in. She loved my work and got in touch with my agent.” Kaya stirred her coffee.
“That’s a wonderful opportunity, Kaya.” He patted her hand. “And, with your talent, more where that came from.”
“This is big.” She wiggled her feet. “She has a lot of prominent friends and if I pull this off, it could make me a household name in the art world.”
“It’ll work out.” He winked. “It feels good to get money doing something you love, huh?”
“Art has always been a means of escaping.” She took a bite of the cake. “When I was ten, my mom died, so it was just my dad and me. Art helped me grieve.”
Seven nodded with a sincere expression. “I read that on your website. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I still had a wonderful childhood.” She wiggled. “My dad came to Houston when he was eighteen, met and married my mom, and became a successful manager at a car dealership. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t know the value of hard work or that going after my dreams was possible.” She shrugged, thinking of the day her father succumbed to brain cancer in that freezing hospital room eight years earlier. “Now, he’s gone too.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed as he poked his pecan pie with a fork, his gold ring sparkling. “You’ve enjoyed life in H-town?”
“I love Houston. The art scene is amazing.” She smiled, placing her hands in her lap. “This city has so much to offer. I wouldn’t wanna live anywhere else.”
He tilted his head. “What is your end goal?”
“To be happy.” She pushed her hair behind her ears. “To transform the world and show all the little dark-skinned black girls they can make their dreams come true if they put in the work.”
His narrow mouth spread into a smile. “You’re an amazing woman.”
“You look at me like no one else exists.” She fidgeted. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you like me.” Redness flowed through his cheeks. “Say, you think I’m amazing and that you wanna see me again.”
Her smiled faded as she imagined his hands on her naked ass while he licked sweat from her n*****s.
“What about your career and family?” She clamped her thighs together, a thunderous ache bursting through her p***y walls. “Let’s talk about that.”
“Let’s not talk at all.” He reached under the table and slipped his hand between her thighs. “Are you still wet?”
She scanned the tables of customers who ate and enjoyed each other’s company.
“Seven—”
“Are you still wet?” His long fingers pinched her thighs.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go to your place.” He pushed the little saucer away and got his keys off the table. “I’ll f**k you and then I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“We can’t keep doing this.”
“The question is...” He nodded with tight lips and a rigid stare. “Do you want to?”
- Writer
