Page 12 of Wifey
He sat perched on a corner of his desk, reading a manila folder. When he looked up at me, my body jerked to a halt, captured by his stunning gaze. His brown hair was cut close to his scalp, with luscious wayward strands falling in front of his face.
His brown eyes darkened to an almost black color, looking right through my body, and reading my soul. His sensual lips curved into a delicious smile and I felt my resolve dissipate. His eyes revealed he was in a good, yet contemplative mood.
He was a bad boy. He wasmybad boy.
He looked every bit as a powerful drug lord billionaire. Not a single hair was out of place. His suit was expensive as with that intoxicating cologne that wafted in the air. The way he looked at me made my heart race.
His gaze was intensely hot and focused. I remember that look – it was the same look he gave me when he was on top of me, when I was on top of him, when he told me to ‘take this dick’ and slap my ass as I rode him.
My hands gripped my clutch for dear life, as to remind me why I was there. It wasn’t a happy reunion. It wasn’t going to be reminiscing about old times. I needed to return his car and be done with Cameron for good, forever.
What’s worse about this reunion is Cameron is playing “Make It Last Forever” by Keith Sweat. Ugh. I hate this man has love for 80’s R&B just as much as I do. His music selection isn’t lost on me, neither.
“Angel,” his voice came out like a smoky, breathless whisper and my knees buckled. His sensed my need before I realized it. My body yearned for him and my heart more so. “Come here, baby girl.”
My feet remain planted on the ground as I continued to stare at Cameron. My body became so aware of him with each passing moment as my throat was parched. There was a sexual magnetism radiating between us that was undeniable. He was making him want him so bad I almost forgot why I shouldn’t.
Almost.
Cameron’s eyebrow rose and he licked his lips, in a challenge accepted mode. “Please come here, Taylor.”
It may have sounded like a polite request and no one would have thought otherwise. I heard the bass in his voice when he said my name. It was a warning shot; he wasn’t going to ask again.
My heart pounded as I walked over towards him, stopping at about six feet. I was so used to the social distancing guidelines, it was second nature. With Cameron, I don’t have that option. He stared into my eyes and gave a small smirk, as if he knew the game I were playing. To my amazement, he didn’t press the issue.
I know I’m lying to myself. My reluctance to go any further has nothing to do with the pandemic; I wouldn’t even be here if I actually believed that. Desire washes over my body and blood rushes into my ears. I want him and he knows it, too.
“What brings you here, angel?” He sets the folder down and gives me his full attention. “I see you drove the car. Did you like it? Smooth ride?”
It was the smoothest ride I ever had. I loved how my body melted into the seats. I felt like one of those rich socialite, influencer-types I see on IG all the time. “That’s why I’m here.” I pull the keys out of the clutch. “To return it.”
Cameron glances down at the keys before he looks up at me, softly shaking his head. His lips pursed into a tsk sound, as if he was a parent disappointed with a child. “I told you it was a gift and it’ll remain one.”
The bass of his voice has me shook but I remain firm. “The gift will make me a target. They’ll know what to look for and who’s driving it.” I point out. “I’m better off with the car I have.”
“I’m sure they know about that car as well.” He didn’t bother correcting me when I talked about the imaginarythey.We both knowtheyexist, even if we don’t know whotheyare. “What happened to your father’s other cars?”
I bite my lip and let out a small breath. My father had three cars – a Toyota Matrix he used for business, a low-rider he brought around friends and family, and a Mercedes he used to impress the ladies. All of the cars are gone. “I just sold them.”
It was a decision I didn’t want to make but needed to. The amount for each car was a blip on the overall debt I owe Cameron, but it was something I could present to him to show him how serious I was. I took out the cashier’s check and presented it to him. “It’s for you.”
Cameron sighs and folds his arms. He shakes his head, refusing the money. “That was the last thing I wanted you to do.”
“I did it so I don’t owe you anything.” My voice is stern. “I did it so we can be good. A clean, even break. I don’t owe you anything and you don’t hold anything over me.”
Cameron chuckles and my body becomes so aware of him. It’s a deep, confident chuckle. A man who knows the value of time is more precious than money. He has so much power and control over me, it’s unnerving. “You think I would hold what I did over your head? Constantly remind you why I did something? So you don’t forget it?”
“Yes.” I nod. “I feel that’s exactly why you bailed me out.You. Belong. To. Me.You forgot that already?”
“You belong to me,not you owe me.” He corrects and for a moment, my cheeks blush in stupidity. He stands up and walks over to me with the manila folder. “Open this.”
I stare into Cameron’s deep brown eyes and wonder why type of game he was playing. I called his bluff and open the folder. My eyes widen as I stare down at my credit file. Everything I own, I owe, and the various loans I’ve applied for. Also included are my bank statements and flipping through them, they go back several years. “I shouldn’t be surprised you have this.”
“You shouldn’t be.” He agrees. “It’s also the same thing the bank you just went to looked at. It’s also the same thing they’re going to deny you for.”
Tears fight my eyes and I shake my head. Of course, Cameron had me followed. I’m not even surprised he had someone at the bank working on his behalf. He did warn me he had someone in every pocket of East Atlanta and I was a fool to not listen. “My credit is pristine. I have very little debt. Why would they deny me? Because of you?”
“Partially, but that’s only the second reason.” He closes the distance between us. “They’re not going to give a million-dollar loan to a young, Black entrepreneur especially during these times. The same struggles your father had have not improved over the years. Lamont kept money in that particular bank, because it was closest to the main shop and he didn’t want to travel too far with the money. He kept the majority of his money in another bank, a Black-owned one, so he felt he was giving back to his community even more.”
