Chapter 7
SEVEN
Angelic.
Gentle.
Magical.
Mystical.
She was a long-legged fairy. She didn’t feel real, but she had to be. She was on my couch. In my home. Asleep.
Peace had found her.
Calm had lulled her.
Food had filled her.
Laughter had exhausted her.
I didn’t want to disturb her. Night had fallen, and I wanted nothing more than to transfer her to my bed. However, the thought was repulsive. Before Royce touched sheets or a bed I’d nailed another woman to, I’d burn in hell.
I’d placed the order for a new bed, new linen, and a deep clean of my entire condo. Still, I felt I wanted her elsewhere. Not at my pad, but at the address I’d built from scratch. Out of the city. Out of the way.
Not in hiding, but in privacy. Somewhere no one else had been. No woman had entered. No intimacy was established. No bodies had been taken down.
She can’t stay.
The reasoning left a bitter taste in my mouth. But, I knew better. My heart did, too.
“You’re staring at me.”
Royce’s voice was soothing. She hadn’t opened her eyes. She was trying to regain consciousness.
“You’re asleep on my couch. And, you’re quiet. Not making demands or quietly disagreeing with me. It felt nice.”
She sniggered.
“You could’ve had your space all to yourself.”
“I wanted to share it with you.”
“Well, that gets you back talk, disagreements, and–”
“But, not when you’re asleep.”
She quieted, finally opening her eyes. Her arms stretched and her body uncurled under the blanket I’d placed over her an hour ago.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Two hours.”
She shook her head, disappointed.
“I don’t nap.”
“What’s wrong with naps?”
“They keep me up all night. I cherish my rest hours.”
“Maybe your body needed it.”
“Yeah, but now I’ll be up all night long.”
“Me, too,” I admitted.
She remained quiet as she sat up.
“Thank you for the blank–”
“You don’t have to stay up alone tonight,” I pushed out much faster than I could stop myself.
She placed her elbows on her knees and ran her hands through her hair. A sigh parted her lips.
“I’ve enjoyed myself, Ishmael. But, I should get home to get ahead of this thing.
We have a campaign to win. We won’t win it if I’m not in front of my computer every chance I get.
You paid me for a service. I wouldn’t be well if I didn’t approach it with excellence.
That’s how I operate. I don’t know anything else. I don’t want to either.”
“Understood.”
“Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
The ride to the gated community of condominiums was silent. Though well-rested, Royce was reserved. Quiet. Completely soundless.
Admittedly, I missed her voice. I anticipated the next time I’d hear it. The low sounds playing in the background wasn’t enough to fill the space in the whip.
My wheels stopped at the door of the address I’d been given. Royce’s hand touched the handle. My hand rested on her thigh. Her head twisted, eyes meeting mine.
“Don’t do that, my baby.”
She lowered her hand, signaling my exit. I was out of the SUV in a flash. The night air was calm. Its warmth wasn’t surprising. It would be November before Berkeley cooled down.
Royce stepped out of the car. Even in the darkness, she was radiant. I closed the door behind her. Hating to see her creep away.
Click.
Clack.
Her heels collided with the concrete beneath us. My body pressed into the passenger door as I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from hindering her escape. She didn’t make it very far before her legs stopped moving and her backside was no longer in view. It was that pretty face of hers.
Still, she said nothing. I watched her body stiffen with uncertainty and possibly regret. She smiled and began toward me. I didn’t budge. My limbs were anchored. So was my heart. And my ears. And my thoughts.
“Thank you.”
There it was. Her voice serenaded me, quieting things that I’d been trying to lower the volume on for years.
She was close enough for me to smell the peppermint on her breath. She’d twirled it around in her mouth on the entire ride over. For the first time, I wanted to be a fucking peppermint. I wanted to be that pepperment. I wanted my hardness to dissolve on her tongue, too.
As quickly as she’d come, she’d gone. But, this time, I couldn’t resist. I removed my hand from the pocket of my jeans and gripped the back of Royce’s neck, bringing her back to me. Where she belonged. Where I needed her. Where she needed to be.
Her softness was heavenly against my rigidness. I lowered my hand, wrapping my arm around her waist.
“Ishmael–”
Sultriness toggled with her tone.
“Couples usually end their time together with a goodbye hug. I can’t have you leaving without giving me mine.”
Relaxing against me, Royce succumbed to her defeat. It didn’t matter what her head or heart were screaming. Her body was willing to do what they were unsure of. In my arms, she maneuvered, facing me.
She was so close.
Still, she wasn’t close enough.
Her arms wrapped around my neck. Her chin lifted, barely clearing my shoulder. Naturally, I surrounded her. Pulling her as deep into my web as humanly possible.
Everything was supple. She was loose at the limbs. Comfort coaxed her. Elevated her degree of softness. She was like putty in my hands.
“Goodnight, Ishmael.”
She wasn’t breathing. Not even when she pulled away. This time, I didn’t disrupt her. I allowed her to walk away. I had to. Our night wouldn’t end here if I didn’t. And, too much was at stake for us to explore each other’s sacred quarters.
Each other’s private real estate.
Each other’s precious gems.
Buried treasures.
“Goodnight, Royce.”
I rubbed my hand through my beard. My jawline flexed as I watched Daniels go on and on about the images that had recently surfaced.
“My concern isn’t only with his obvious addiction to escorts and sex workers, but if he’ll use the taxpayer’s money to support it when he’s in office.”
Brain matter coated the screen as I fired a single kill shot. Straight to his dome. From a mile away. At a secure location. With no chance of being discovered. My skills were far too advanced for the authorities’ small, limited capacities.
“That campaign is being funded by private donors. It makes me wonder if that money is how he’s managing his expensive habits and if the donors are aware of where their money is going,” he continued, reminding me that I was far removed from my past and trying to build a better future for Berkeley.
Sex worker.
The term made my blood boil. Royce was not in the business of selling her pussy. She was selling her talents. Her resourcefulness. Her ability to turn messes into miracles. Her gift. Her knowledge. Not her pussy.
Matte’s fists clashed with my office door as she pushed it open.
“Sixty seconds, Mr. Grayson.”
“Headed down.”
The office building was littered with reporters. Every inch of the press conference room was filled with those dying to hear more about what was happening in my world. The part of it that wasn’t their concern. The private part.
I was up from my desk, sliding my cell in my pocket within the next few seconds. Three minutes of my time was all the press was allotted and I wouldn’t be in front of them a minute more.
I took the elevator with Cameron, Matte, and Sarah surrounding me.
Together, we stepped out into the lobby, greeted with the flashing lights of cameras.
Microphones were angled towards us, but distance was maintained.
It was evident I prioritized my personal space.
Reporters had learned it earlier on in my campaign.
The chatter in the conference room quieted upon my arrival. I stepped up onto the platform, stopping at the podium where the microphone was waiting. The clock on the back of the wall began. I was down to two minutes and fifty seconds before I opened my mouth.
“Uh mmm.” I cleared my throat.
Two minutes and forty-five seconds.
“I want to start by thanking everyone in this room who have taken time out of their day to address such a senseless, baseless matter.
It has been brought to my attention that parts of my life that are reserved for my eyes and ears only have been plastered across your screens in an effort to tarnish my name, credibility, character, and smear my campaign.
“For my first point, fuck whoever you are who put the face of an innocent, loving, and incredibly smart woman who was simply experiencing a string of unfortunate events one evening and fully expected the man she shares personal time with to be of assistance on the screen of people who have real life issues they’re facing daily.
Like hunger, childcare needs, low wages, declining test scores, housing–real life crisis that my opponent isn’t doing much about because he has his head too far up his own ass. ”
Gasps followed my candid thoughts. Matte’s hand on my shoulder did little to steer me in the direction we’d discussed. Royce’s face was fresh in my memory. It wasn’t my image I cared to protect today. It was hers and the women around the world under the scrutiny of the male gaze.
“Secondly, what I do in my spare time is none of your concern. I’m human–just like you all.
I’m not perfect and I’ve never made that claim during this campaign.
However, out of all the pleasantries I’ve paid for in my life, a woman’s body has never been one.
I find their value to be far beyond the limits of our financial capabilities.
But, speaking of the bodies of women, I’m led to my next point.
“Aren’t we tired of policing them? By them, I’m referring to the very real estate of a woman.
It’s not ours. It’s not ours to make rules or laws or assumptions or decisions about.
Just like my spare time shouldn’t concern you, neither should their bodies.
Using sex worker or escort or prostitute as derogatory terms when men quite literally walk around each day trying to prove they have bigger balls than the next man is idiotic.