Tall, Dark and Hateful - Chapter 4

It's round two. Who will win in this fight of stubborn pride? Read on and find out.

Bea was dreaming. The familiar bristled head between her thighs had to be the imaginings of her traitorous unconscious mind. Because only in sleep her walls she built since that disastrous first meeting will crumble down like Girl Scout cookies and allow any thoughts of the bastard to fill her mind.

Dream Lance licked her slit then captured dream Bea's taut bundle and sucked hard. Live Bea arched her back at the same time as dream Bea. The dream couldn't compare to the reality but still it was too much for her to let it continue.

She fought against it and tried to wake up against it. Her eyes pressed closed as if to break it out but the dream went on as she drifted closer and closer to blissed wakefulness. But it was the timely and incessant ringing that pushed her out of the dream and awake, panting in her bed with a throbbing ache instead of a raging one.

The ringing came again and Bea turned over to her left side. Picking up her phone she thought she could kiss whoever had decided to call her at the perfect time. Then saw the screen flash Felicite''s photo and number.

Bea sighed. She tapped the phone and placed it by her ear. "Felicite' don't you ever give up? I already said there's no Lance and me."

"No. I believe you're wrong but that's not why I'm calling."

Bea rubbed her eyes, sat up from her bed and leaned back against the headboard. "Then why did you call?" she grumbled. The sunlight streaming through her window was the only indication that she was up too early to deal with Felicite' playing matchmaker even if she said that wasn't why she called.

"I don't know how to say this."

"Spill it already. It's not like you to hesitate when you feel you're in the right."

Felicite' ignored her jab. What she told her next made her wish she kept her mouth shut and didn't push her friend to spill her guts. Because now she certainly felt like spilling hers. In disgust. And more than a little anger.

Bea flung the blankets off her legs and jumped out of bed. "What the fuck is he up to?"

She was so angry Bea gave new meaning to being spitting mad. She paced up and down her bedroom wishing she could shoot fire out her mouth she would and she knew who she'd like to incinerate to ash. But the bum wasn't anywhere near and she didn't know where he lived. But she knew where he worked.

"He? Wait a minuted Bea, don't you mean them? I know you wanted to remain anonymous but it's all over social media about BN Residential and the African-American history find. Like they're taking credit-"

"Yeah. Credit that we did. And I know the dickhead responsible."

"Who? And what does all this mean for you?"

"Lance. They guy I stupidly fucked on my table. Believe you and me I'm going to find out."

"Bea don't be hasty. Let's get together, figure out what all this means and strategize first."

"No I got this." Bea walked toward her dresser, opened the the top drawer and started rummaging around. She pulled out a lacy black bra and matching lace thong hipster then stalked to her master bathroom. "Thanks for calling. I'll call back once I fix things with this asshole."

Bea ended the call as Felicite' was still speaking and placed it down on the bathroom sink. She turned the hot water on full blast, hopped in then out in minutes. As she rubbed moisturizer lotion onto her skin she thought of all the times Lance called. Which she ignored. At first she didn't recognize the number so let it go to voicemail. When she listened to his messaged Bea programmed his number to her phone. Something she was glad she kept to herself or else her friends would really have a field day about it. Another thing she didn't feel worth mentioning was the number of times, seven, she listened to it just to hear his voice. But really how romantic could "Ms. Lowell, we at BN Residential would like to work together with you on this rather new development you discovered" be?

Mentally shaking her head -romantic? Yeah right. She wasn't crazy. Bea put on her underwear then stomped back out to her bedroom and into her closet. Aware of what happened last time she purposely chose a pair of jeans and a thick, long sleeve shirt. With no skin showing and foregoing wearing an easy access of a skirt or dress, to lessen the chance of skin to skin contact.

Bea donned her armour and slipped her feet into a pair of flats.

She ran out her room and made it to her front door when she remembered she forgot her wallet with her smartrip card. And her phone. In moments she was on the metro heading to the den of evil. She needed her anger to give her strength and the walk thought a couple of blocks would've calmed her down and think rational thoughts. But rational was the last she wanted. She was a mad black woman. And at the end of her destination was a dead black man who deserved her wrath.

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The phone on his desk rang jolting him out of his thoughts. He'd finally gotten the horribly enticing woman out of his head enough to concentrate on the new redevelopment plans when his secretary called to let him know the very woman driving his mad was waiting outside his office to see him.

"Should I send her in?"

Lance thought of all the times she refused his calls and to answer him back for her to come running to him now. She must've seen the news.

Good.

"Does she have an appointment," he asked knowing full well she didn't.

He heard Mrs. McClintock ask Bea if she had an appointment to which he clearly heard her loud reply, "fuck no! But he's going to want to see me."

"Um no sir," Mrs. McClintock politely semi-repeated leaving out the expletives then whispered, "Should I call security?"

Lance chuckled. Bea was a spitfire. And mad. He should've been afraid but he never thought he'd enjoy an emotionally riled up Bea as much as a sexually riled Bea so much. Yes he should've been afraid and his mama didn't raise a man stupid enough to mess with an angry woman. Let alone an angry black woman. He was safer poking an already injured bear while being covered in honey.

But that didn't stop him from what he did next.

Lance leaned back in his leather chair and steepled his hands together over his stomach. Smiling like the devil himself who bet and won on another soul he said, "That's okay Mrs. McClintock. Inform Ms. Lowell that I'm busy at the moment with a telephone conference meeting. And for her to take a seat. You'll send her in once I'm done."

His secretary hesitated. She knew very well that he had nothing scheduled. He pictured her opening her mouth to say so but he cut her off. "Tell her that Mrs. McClintock," he repeated firmly.

"Yes sir."

Lance ended the call. Chuckling darkly he went back to work more refreshed than after having a cup of Starbucks coffee. It was almost as if he had a new lease on life. He cleared most of the work that'd been piling up. He answered all his emails and returned phone calls. Time literally flew.

He'd just finished putting through the finishing touches on the new contract four hours later when he remembered Bea. Lanced looked towards his door and wondered what was going on behind it. It was eerily quiet and too late he realized maybe he should've been more afraid after all. After the first hour passed, hearing her yelling, he called his secretary to inform Ms. Lowell that he was still on a conference call. The following hour he heard scuffling. To which Ms. McClintock informed him she had to call security. He told her to let Ms. Lowell know that any more disturbances would not get her that meeting with him. Ever. Afterwards he'd heard nothing more.

It was much too quiet. Like he was caught right before the storm. Unnerved Lance squared his shoulders, got up and marched around his desk to his office door. He brought this on himself and he wasn't about to hide away in his office scared. Besides, it served her right to do some waiting herself after dodging all his attempts to contact her.

Lance grabbed and twisted the knob, yanking it open. But what he witnessed next stopped him short. There stood Bea behind his secretary and with her hands around the elderly woman's neck.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh," said Bea turning towards me. She wore a serene look on her face but her eyes told a different story. One where she silently promised retribution. "Is it time for you to welcome this mere mortal now?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Davis!" Ms. McClintock jumped out of her chair sending it flying backwards. Bea stepped away to avoid it.

He marched over to his secretary and pulled her behind him then faced off with Bea, the one woman who managed to boil his blood in unsurmountable anger and lust.

"What, because I didn't make time for you you throttle my employees?"

"Mr. Davis," whispered Ms. McClintock.

Bea rolled her eyes and fisted her hands on her hips. "That's not what happened. "Course I'm used to your bad habit with coming up with outlandish assumptions about me."

"You're saying I'm wrong?"

"Mr. Davis," Ms. McClintock called a little louder and tugged on his sleeve.

"What with all that crazy coming out your mouth you're saying you're right? Does it make sense to physically assault her right in front of witnesses?"

"Mr. Davis," said in a loud exasperated voice. She stepped from behind him and Lance watch incredulously as she walked towards Bea and wrapped her arm around her waist then patted her arm. "Don't worry dear, his bark tends to be worse than his bite." Bea arched her brow as if she didn't believe it and was probably thinking up the last time they saw each other as veritable proof to the contrary. "And as for you Mr. Davis, you're behaving quite ungentlemanly towards Bea. She was only giving me a shoulder massage. Which was very sweet of her. Especially when she's been waiting hours for you to be done with your meetings."

Bea? The heavy emphasis on waiting? What the hell did Bea pull to turn his own secretary against him and side with her?

Speechless, Lance opened and closed his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say. Bea smirked at him while Ms. McClintock looked at him with something close to disappointment. Stuck but having every intention of paying Bea back for stealing his secretary's loyalty Lance crossed his arms over his chest, nodded and apologized through gritted teeth.

Pleased Ms. McClintock smiled up at Bea. Patting her arms again, she looked back at Lance and confirmed if he was done and now ready to see Bea. A predatory smile crossed his face. "Yes, I'm ready to have Ms. Lowell now."

His eyes roamed over her body. She was completely covered showing no skin except on her hands, neck and face. But her outfit, a simple crew neck long sleeve tee and jeans, fit her like a second skin he wondered if she painted them on. He knew she was a craftsman, she made and sold her own candles and lotion from her shop too, so Lance wouldn't past her if she did.

Her breath hitched, making her chest rise and fall. He followed the movement obsessively reminding him how he never got to taste them. His cock hardened, twitching in his pants as imagined thrusting his cock between her breasts. Then her warm, wet mouth. Her tight little ass and pussy.

Damn, he wanted the woman so bad he was able to barely contain his primal urge to tear off her clothes and take her on his secretary's desk for everyone to see. Eyes widening and zeroed in on his bulge Lance knew he was being more than transparent. He couldn't stand being so obvious in how the woman affected him. But at least he wasn't the only one if the beaded points of her hard nipples trying tear two tiny holes of her tee were anything to go by.

Still they had business to do. Mentally shaking his head he asked Ms. McClintock to order sandwiches from Panera and excused her for the rest of the day once their order arrived. Last thing he wanted was anymore possible side with Bea nonsense.

He nodded towards Bea to give her order then waited for her to enter his office first. He caught a whiff of something flowery and spices as she passed by and couldn't tear his gaze away from her plump ass as she sashayed inside. And his shaft hardened painfully. 

"Fuck me," he grunted under his breath, grateful his jacket hid his erection. God she was going to be the death of him. He had to hurry this particular meeting up and get her out of here before the last of his resolve detonated. 


Though both Lance and Bea try to deny it and not think about the other, their desire for each other is still strong and growing hotter. Will their resolve not to have anything with the other last? Find out in chapter 5. And as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments. Don't forget to live/vote and show your Wattys support for Foreseen on Twitter. Thanks so much! :-D 

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