Blink

  Blink (Interracial Erotica)

  Violet Williams

  Published by Quiver Publishing at Smashwords

  Copyright 2012 Violet Williams

  Simone Jenkins was just minding her business, armed with a plate of Pad Thai and a Lifetime marathon waiting for her at home. Easy, chill, drama free night--until Mark Roberts rear ends her, putting a literal dent in her plans.

  She's a recent college grad, he a suit oozing with entitlement, but she can't deny her carnal attraction to the handsome man.

  When he asks her out for dinner, Simone will learn that lots of things can happen in a blink of an eye-a fender bender, romance, even swift removal of clothes...

  Blink is an erotic romance short story containing explicit language and sexual content. It is 6,244 words.

  E-book License Edition Notes

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  ***

  Simone Jenkins bopped her head from left to right as she reversed her Corolla, pulling from the parking space in front of Lada Thai House. It was Saturday night and she was set: she had a bottle of chardonnay chilling in the fridge, a plate full of pad thai, and a marathon on Lifetime, stuffed full of taboo romance.

  She pulled to the exit of the shopping center, clicking on her turn signal. She shot her head to the left. The coast was clear except for a black car that was at least a hundred feet away. With three lanes for traffic flow, she eased onto the road, her mind on her evening and-

  THWOK.

  Her car lurched forward with a metallic crunch.

  Holy shit. She’d just been rear ended.

  She cast a look of disgust at her rearview and saw the black car she’d seen a couple of blocks away glaring back at her.

  “Great,” she muttered, petering down the road and pulling into the next shopping center on her right. “Just great.”

  She braked after she maneuvered next to the side curb and put her car in park, killing the engine with a groan. She tossed a sad look at her carton of thai food, her mind already calculating. When she stepped out of her car and got a hold of her rear bumper, punched in a perfect impression of the black sedan’s front, she seethed, the numbers ticking away.

  Simone was an accountant, so numbers were kind of her thing. $11.98 for a plate of noodles was gonna end up costing her a new rear bumper, not to mention the fun experience of dialing up Nationwide and sitting on hold before going through the lengthy claim process.

  She put her hands on her hips, boring holes into the tinted windshield of the car behind hers. Was the prick gonna even get out of their car?

  She took stock of it, noting the signature contours and insignia of a BMW. It was sleek and dangerous, the kind of car that Simone salivated over but could never quite justify on her entry level salary. What she would give to have a car like that parked outside her condo…

  She gave her head a shake. She was 23, fresh out of college. Over half of the graduating class from Sacramento State was headed to the security of their parents’ couches. While her job didn’t afford her a five figure salary, at least she had a job. And insurance. And the joker behind the wheel of the Beamer better have some too.

  She opened her mouth to call out whoever was behind the wheel, but words failed her as she got a hold of the driver. The man that eased out of the driver side was just that—all man. Even in his sharp two piece suit she could tell that he spent hours at the gym, perfecting every ounce of his body. His skin was golden, tanned without the Donald Trump orange nonsense. His hair was cut short, the dark strands coifed and gently spiked, giving him a playful, yet conservative edge. He stepped closer and she got a better look at his face: youthful, attractive features. He looked about late twenties, maybe just shy of thirty. Deep blue eyes took in her ebony ones and his apologetic smile plucked at her heart strings.

  Damn it. Of course he was hot.

  “Christ,” he said, wincing beautifully as he took in the damage on her car. “I am so sorry.”

  The erratic beat in her chest, the romantic inside her that got her into trouble, wanted to tell him that it was okay. She silently pinched herself, hoping the flash of pain would allow common sense to take over. It most definitely was not okay. The back of her car was fucked and she needed to do something other than drool. “What the hell happened?”

  He let out a chuckle. “Just got a hell of a commission. 50,000 dollars.” He tilted his head to the side. Simone saw a Bluetooth blinking in his ear. He held up a finger. “One second.”

  Rich people, Simone thought with an eye roll. It was suddenly real easy to stop fantasizing about what he looked like underneath his clothes. He’d rear ended her, putting a wrench in her plans, and he had the nerve to put her on hold? “Excuse me-” She gasped when he turned his back to her, his head bowed in concentration. Not on the accident, mind you—on the very conversation that put them in this mess in the first place!

  She shook her head. “Unbelievable.” She spun on her heels and walked back to her car, rummaging through her pocketbook. She pulled out her Iphone and walked back to the scene. She wanted to take pictures of the damage, maybe a shot or two of his license plate.

  As she pivoted the lens in his direction, a ripple of longing went through her and without thinking, she hit the ‘take’ button. Her phone flashed.

  The guy’s attention turned to her in shock. “Hold on a second,” he said to whomever, whatever was so much more important than the issue at hand. He crossed his arms. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Simone’s cheeks blossomed red as she pointed the camera where it belonged—the damage, not the damager. Or was he the damagee? It didn’t matter. She just wanted to get the pics, get his info, and get out of there.

  “I’m taking pictures,” she answered finally. “And if I could just get your insurance information-”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said with a chuckle. His features softened and he gave her a look. Actually, ‘look’ didn’t do it justice. It was so intimate that she was surprised he didn’t knock her up with the glance. Warmth pooled at her core and she felt light headed, drunk on attraction. Drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

  She took a step back, overwhelmed by the effect he was having on her. “W-what?”

  “There’s no need for that,” he said with a smile. “There’s no need for business as usual.”

  It’s a little late for that anyway, Simone thought ruefully. She’d only been in two accidents before. One was with an inanimate object when she wasn’t paying attention and took the rear bumper of her SUV clean off when she swiped a pole near a gas pump. The other was when some old lady backed up and hit her car at the grocery store. In the thick of those incidents, she hadn’t found herself wanting to drag the person, or pole, to the ground and screw their brains out.

  “Since we’re talking about business,” Simone piped, trying to steer them back on topic, “It looks like you’re in the middle of some.” She squared her shoulders. “Let’s just wrap this up and we can both get back to our lives.”

  But that would have been too simple. He gave her another one of those earth shattering grins and she damn near had to clutch the side of her car to steady herself.

  He turned his head to the ground. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, pressing the Bluetooth. “Alright. Take a message.” He pulled the device from his ear and dropped it into his pocket and took a few steps in her direction. “You’ve got my full attention, lov
e.”

  He called her ‘love’. When he stepped closer and she got a whiff of his spicy scent, she knew all bets were off.

  Focus, she ordered herself silently. Stay on task. “So, uh, I should get your number.” She gulped. “And your insurance stuff. And we should probably file a police report-”

  “If you wanted to call me, all you had to do was so say so,” he winked.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed. “It’s purely so we can figure out how the damage will be repaired. I mean we could go the insurance route or you could pay out of pocket-”

  “Ah, I see.” He stroked his chin. “So if I give you my insurance stuff and my number, we’ll part ways.”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll never talk again.” Beat. “I mean, each of us will do plenty of talking throughout the claims bs. Allstate will dish out the cash for a new bumper for you. My rates will go up.” He shook his head. “Unacceptable.”

  She gaped at him. He probably worked downtown at one of those high rises. Hell, he just made more money with a commission than she’d make in a whole year! “This is about money, huh?”

  “Not at all,” he said smoothly. His eyes were so dark, so enticing. They were almost navy in the waning light. “I’m saying that never seeing or talking to you again, you becoming a blip on my insurance record, is unacceptable.”

  The heat in her cheeks fanned out over her body as his words seeped in. It wasn’t that she’d never heard she was pretty. Simone had caramel colored skin, piercing ebony eyes and dark hair that fell just past her shoulders. She was thin, but had cushion where it counted—her hips, her behind, her chest.

  She was suddenly real glad she decided to wrap her locks the night before so her chestnut hair fell in gentle waves around her acorn shaped face. She was even rocking real clothes instead of her usual combo of yoga pants and a t-shirt. But even though she was wearing a blouse and skinny jeans and her hair was on lock, she felt undressed and bare at his words. There was something about the way he was approaching her that made her self-conscious.

  Why was he flirting with her instead of some socialite type? A guy like that usually had some blonde, anorexic type on their arm. But the way he was looking at her…it was like he knew that she had a thing for white guys.

  Richy Rich definitely wasn’t her first time being attracted to someone outside her race. There was Joey, a guy her girls not-so-affectionately called an ‘Uh-oh Oreo’ because he liked to wear Fubu and a do-rag for some bizarre reason. Then there was the frat boy nightmare Josh, who just wanted an ebony notch for his bed post. Her ex, Nick, was last. He was the normal-est of the bunch. Suave, educated, one helluva lover, but he hadn’t been such a good guy in the end. The sting of walking in on him sleeping with some red-headed bimbo on the bed he’d first said “I love you” on was enough to make her swear off dating altogether.

  She’d kept up with steering clear of doling out her heart and body, turning down invites from friends to go clubbing and bar hopping, instead opting for slow, uncomplicated weekends with her noodles and good ole Lifetime. Her drama was where she liked it—on her television, not in real life.

  Yet here she was, starring in her very own romantic comedy. Boy rear ends girl, ends up being a rich hottie. Hijinks ensue.

  Simone cleared her throat. “What are you saying?”

  He took a step toward her. “I’m saying, park your car…and let me take you out to dinner.” He must have picked up on the look of alarm in her eyes because he flipped the script. “Or you could follow me, just in case I’m an axe murderer.”

  She didn’t laugh, but she couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips.

  He leapt on it. “That’s a smile.” He fist pumped like he just won some sort of prize. “With a smile like that, you’ve gotta let me buy you dinner.” He lowered his voice, like he had something confidential to share. “And a new bumper, of course.”

  “Of course,” Simone said, relaxing in spite of herself. With the exception of rear ending her, he was kind of a dream catch. Attractive, successful, funny. But she was still iffy, still mulling it over. “Just dinner?”

  “Just dinner,” he answered. “Then we go our separate ways. If that’s what you want.”

  There was something in his voice that told her that wasn’t what he wanted. Which just made her body ache and her mouth water with desire. He wasn’t even touching her and she could feel her peaks swell beneath her blouse, at the ready. Game for whatever. A man had never had such a carnal effect on her. She’d never met anyone and wanted to go to bed with them right off the bat.

  He’d awoken something in her—she could tell him to go to hell and go home to her condo, to her safe evening at home, but she knew she’d regret it.

  She let out a sigh before laughing at the ludicrousness of the whole situation. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Mark,” he said smoothly. He held out his hand.

  She glanced at it. It was now or never. Walk away, or take a chance.

  She took it, the feel of his hand sending an electric jolt to her system. She ignored the mistakes of the past and smiled as she shook it slowly. “I’m Simone.”

  ***

  Simone had to double take when she saw Mark pull up to the valet rope of the most expensive restaurant in town. Suddenly aware of the big ass dent in the back of her sedan, she opted to drive around the block and find parking on the street. She could already see the bemused look on the valet’s face as she handed him the keys to her broken car and decided she’d pass on the experience.

  She found an empty spot just two blocks from the restaurant. She shut off her engine and returned her hand to the wheel, both palms squeezing the rubber tight.

  “What the hell am I doing?” she said aloud. It was a damn good question. Her pad thai sat beside her, festering. It was a fragrant reminder of what her night would have been if Mark hadn’t crashed into her.

  She had a laundry list of reasons why she should turn the car back on and salvage what was left of her evening:

  She didn’t know this guy from Adam. All she knew was his name, that he obviously had money, and had no qualms flaunting it.

  The Red Room was one of the most exclusive restaurants in the area. Though she wasn’t rocking workout gear, she was pretty sure most of the women that frequented the place would be wearing frocks and jewelry that cost as much as her car.

  And speaking of her car, it was making unhealthy noises the whole way over. And looking ghetto fabulous with the bumper hanging off. Just a few strips of duct tape would complete the look and-

  Tap, tap.

  She peered out the passenger side window. Mark stood just outside, making her heart stutter ‘cuz he looked like something out of GQ magazine. It just wasn’t fair for him to look so delicious. He was saying something.

  “What?” she said, scrunching her brow. Jesus Christ. Of course she couldn’t hear him with the windows up. She pressed the button and the glass slid down.

  He leaned down, his face intent. “Having second thoughts?”

  Yes. “N-No.” She swallowed. “Maybe a little.”

  He leaned over, draping at the mouth of the window effortlessly. Everything about him was so easy and natural. He was in a suit, but his swagger was as relaxed as if he was in jeans and a tee. “It’s no pressure, Simone. It’s just dinner. Maybe a little awkward conversation.”

  She grinned. “And overpriced alcohol?”

  He winked. “Why Simone—do you intend to take advantage?”

  There went the butterflies. “I-” Her voice trailed off and she just sat there, wanting him way more than she should.

  His face fell, but his voice remained upbeat. “Hey, if you’re not interested…” He snapped upward, straightening his tie. He pulled his wallet out. “I’ll just get you my info-”

  Simone rolled up the window, unclicked her seatbelt, and snatched her keys from the ignition. “No.” She walked over to where he stood, struggling wit
h their attraction, with the need to see this whole crazy thing through.

  He gave her a quizzical look. “No?”

  Silence.

  She clicked the car lock, not that anyone would give her busted car a second glance when they could have their pick of the gamut of luxury cars parked in the valet lot.

  She gathered herself and looked him straight on, digging deep and finding her center. “I am interested.”

  His eyes sparkled and he took a step to the side. “Well then. After you.”

  When they breezed into Red Room, Simone couldn’t help but notice the fact that the interior was, in fact, not red. It was a milky, whimsical white with linen tablecloths and a chandelier glittering up ahead, casting sparks around the packed dining room.

  She relaxed when she glanced past the hostess and saw that she didn’t look like a bum and many of the women were similarly dressed.

  She bit back a smile when she felt Mark’s hand on the small of her back as he flashed the hostess a bright smile. “Julie! How are you?”

  The young girl flashed him a toothy grin. “I’m great, Mark! How about you?”

  “Doing well,” he answered. “And the kids?”

  “Little monsters,” she said, shaking her head. “But they’re doing good.”

  “You’ll have to tell Logan I have a little something for him that I picked up in Tokyo.” He leaned in. “But only if he gives his Mom a break.”

  She giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Will do.”

  He stroked Simone’s back, bringing her back to Earth. Who was this charming guy? Knowing the wait staff by name, asking about their kids? Where was the stuffy, entitled indifference?

  “I don’t have a reservation-”

  “Don’t be silly!” she gushed. “There’s always a table here with your name on it.” She swiped a couple of menus. “Follow me.”

  Simone followed behind them, half expecting the diners to have some raised eyebrows about their coupling, but everyone minded their business.