Bad & Bougie (Feeling Some Type of Way II)

Bad and Boujee 1400x2100


I thought being Ian Ferguson’s girlfriend was going to be the end all of alls and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything for the rest of my life?

Oh, how wrong I was.

I’m immersed into a world of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Shameless as I find out how family history, old money, and revenge is just another sport rich people play when they’re bored and have nothing to do.

I just hope I’m not collateral damage.


Chapter One: 

The sunlight creeps through the shades as Stevie Wonder’s “As” blasts from the living room. I slowly open my eyes and sigh as I debate how badly I want to remove the 1500-count Egyptian sheets I’ve gotten so used to. Or how badly I want to get out of this California King-sized bed that I’ve spent many nights sleeping.

Well, not just sleeping.

It’s been a full week since I’ve moved in with Ian and I still have to occasionally pinch myself to make sure I’m not being Punk’d by Ashton Kutcher. Two years ago, I was a struggling college student on the verge of being kicked out of school. Now, I’m the girlfriend of one of the world’s most eligible billionaire bachelors.

Was. He was the one of the world’s most eligible. Not anymore, ladies. It’s pretty safe to say I got that dick on lock now.

I stretch out in bed and know I only have a bit of time to look presentable before he comes and gets me. I quickly grab my phone and see the time flash before me: eight a.m. sharp. Too damn early but I also have a feeling Ian feels it just might be too late.

I need to get up and get ready. The loud music was Ian’s not-so subtle way of waking me up so he wouldn’t have to do it. Though I wouldn’t mind feeling his lips on the nape of my neck as his strong hands wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to feel his thick erection press up against me.

Damn, how is it that I’m horny again?

I wash up and brush my teeth before I take a small glance at myself in the mirror. My head scarf is all sorts of catawampus and I have so many dark circles under my eyes, the planet Saturn is jealous. Oh well. This is what Ian is going to get this morning over bacon and eggs so he’ll just have to deal.

My feet touch the cold hardwood floor as Stevie’s voice becomes louder. I reach the living room and stand in silence as I watch Ian mouth the lyrics while he sets the table. He’s dressed in a tank top and grey lounge pants and I just about damn near lost my will remain to pure.

Amazing how a man made me go from a sexually curious virgin to a dick-obsessed nymph in just a few months.

“Angel,” his voice booms over the stereo and his head slowly turns towards mine. His cobalt blue eyes sparkle and he flashes that drop-dem-drawls smile at me, “join me.” He holds out his hand.

I rush over to him and Ian leads us into an impromptu dance. This is what heaven feels like. Stevie serenading us in surround sound while Ian’s body is pressed against mine. His lips feather my ears and a hand holds the small of my back. He lightly sings along with Stevie and doesn’t care if he sounds off-key.

“Did you know true love asks for nothing?” He murmurs in my ear and my knees go weak.

We dance until the song ends and Ian sweeps his lips over mine. His kiss claims me, letting us both know who I belong to, and how he owns my body to do whatever he pleases at his command, and how I’ll willingly let him.

He reluctantly pulls away and I slightly moan the loss of his kiss. “Breakfast first.”

I do a slight pout and Ian winks at me, as if we didn’t just spend the entire night making love. I sit down at the table across from him and watch Ian pour two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. My breakfast plate is colorful combination of sausage, scrambled eggs, avocado, and fresh fruit. He represented the color wheel very well.

Ian takes out his tablet and casually swipes through it. His eyeglasses rest on the bridge of his nose and he slowly sips from his coffee. I just watch him in awe like a groupie. “So what do you plan to do today?”

“The restaurants are busy so I’ll be bouncing between the two of them for today,” Ian swiped left, “and then I’ll be interviewing new assistants since my old one retired.” He winks at me.

Ian decided once I became his girlfriend, I couldn’t be his assistant any longer. He didn’t want any feelings he had towards me at work impact our relationship. I actually respect that but as awesome as that is, I don’t want to be stuck at home all day not doing shit but watch Maury and guessing if the lady who’s on her fifth search finally found her baby daddy. “Your assistants?” I slowly begin, “are they ugly women?”

Ian grins at my jealousy like it’s a cute thing. No, bitch, I need to know if your assistants are going to make me catch a case. “They’re all men, angel.”

I breathe an audible sigh of relief and Ian chuckles. “Hey now!” I defend myself. “I know how you were with your last one.”

“And that’s why my new assistants are men,” he smiles, “you have nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so,” I say in a sing-song voice. I pause for a beat. “I need to find a job. I’m going to see if I can get my old job at Caffeinated.”

“Hell, no.” Ian shook his head. He said it so fluidly like it was second nature. “I’m not giving your old boss a reason to think you’re available.”

Oh? I guess I’m not the only jealous one in the relationship. Good to know. “Well, what am I going to do?”

“I thought you were looking at dance studios?” His eyes met mine. “How’s that coming along?”

I told Ian I wanted to pursue dance full time and he strongly encouraged it. “I’m looking at a few but it still doesn’t answer the question on how I’m going to be able to support myself in the meantime? I do have bills, honey.” I bargained.

“You do?” Ian set down his tablet. “What bills?”

Well, shit, I don’t have any. One of the perks of dating a billionaire is he pays for everything. I don’t think I’ve ever been this not broke in my life. “Okay, the point is I could have bills.”

“I don’t want you to work. I rather have you focus all of your concentration on dance.” He said pointedly. “I’ll give you a stipend every month.”

“For how long?” I cautiously ask.

“For as long as we’re together,” he shrugs, “I’ll put it in writing so there won’t be any confusion.”

A contract? Hmm…not sure how I feel about this. “For how much?”

“Ten,” he casually swipes left.

I take a bite of my eggs and wonder if this would be an appropriate time to chuck this entire fucking plate at him. “Ten?” I repeated. “Ten dollars a day?”

“What the…?” Ian shoots me a disgusted look like I just insulted the Queen of England. “…no. Ten thousand a month.”

It’s a good thing I wasn’t holding anything because I’m pretty sure I would’ve dropped it. It’s bad enough my bottom lip is currently scraping the polished floor. “Ten thousand?”

“Not enough?” He casually swipes again. “Okay, twelve.”

I think my heart just dropped to the pit of my stomach. “Twelve thousand?”

“Not enough?” He glances at me. “Okay, fifteen.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” I hold out my hands and wave them. “No mas.”

Ian gives me another panty-dropping smile. “You don’t ever have to worry about money with me, angel.”

The money isn’t the issue I’m worried about; it’s the other thing. It has to be in writing?

I push the worrying thoughts out of my head and focus back on my plate. Adrienne just returned from her honeymoon and she’s taking me furniture shopping with her. Knowing Blake’s bank account and Adrienne’s taste for the super expensive – like have you ever seen something so expensive and the first words out of your mouth was bullshit? – it’s going to be an interesting day.

I finish the rest of my plate and clear the table. “I need to hurry and get ready. Adrienne should be here to pick me up within an hour and she’s a stickler for being on time. The only black person who doesn’t abide by CP time.”

Ian follows me to the kitchen. “CP time?”

“Yeah, it’s…” I pause and wonder if this was something I really wanted to explain to my white British boyfriend. “Um, it stands for Colored People’s Time.” Ian raises both eyebrows and I feel my ancestors giving me all sorts of side eyes. “It’s a black thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Got it,” He drops the subject and Lord, I am thankful. He stands behind me as I lazily rinse off the plates. He steps closer to me and I feel his toned body press against mine. His hands circle over my nipples and softly pinch them through the fabric. He places a series of hot kisses along my neck as his hands travel down to my boy shorts and he slips a hand inside my panties.

A warm sensation shoots up my thighs and pools at the vee of my sex. Breathy moans come out in spurts from my throat. My legs magically part like they’re under hypnosis and Ian’s fingers were the trick.

His hand cups my sex and he softly moans against my neck. “I’m going to fuck your brains out,” he promises me. Fuck. That is so damn hot and my brain is yelling at me, screaming, ‘Bitch, why are you still dressed?’

My tank top comes off as my boy shorts are pulled down. Ian hoists me on top of the sink where I feel the water splashing the plates against my bare back. He stands between my thighs and his exploratory hands are everywhere. My breasts. My waist. My back. Pulling one of my legs around his waist.

Ian’s lips claimed mine and my breath is stolen. My brain freezes and my body finally succumbs to his touch, his love, his everything. This isn’t a dream but my reality. Everything I could ever hope for.

He picks me up and moves me to the table. He clears off everything with a swipe of an arm, and I hear miscellaneous things crashing on the floor. The man I love and would do anything for, is about to fuck me on his dining room table and you know what? Hell, yes!

Ian quickly removes his lounge pants and his hardened, thick shaft juts out at attention. My mouth waters just upon the sight of it and as daunting his size is, I really can’t wait to get my mouth around it.

He pulls me closer to the edge of the table and spreads my legs apart. He softly bites the inside of my thighs before he kisses them. His morning stubble gently scrapes against my thighs and I feel heat swell inside of me. A free hand softly massages my sex as if he petted a cat, and technically he did.

“Hold onto the table,” he instructs and didn’t have to say it twice. I grip the table His tongue does a quick swipe against my sex and I softly moan before he dives in. His tongue is flat and wide at some moments, and long and pointy at the others. He finds my swollen pearl and gently sucks on it before it bounces against his tongue and Lord, I just about had an exorcism on the damn table.

Breathy moans left my lips as Ian’s tongue flicker up and down. He reached up and cupped my breasts as his tongue worked its magic. I instantly became wetter and my hips softly rose up to meet his tongue, seeking him more and more.

He lifted one of my legs and rested it on his shoulder as he continued. A free hand explored the rest of my body, caressing my tummy, tweaking my nipples, and tracing my sex with an index finger. The heat inside of me became a small fire. I moaned as my thighs began to tremble and I’m about to lose it on the table.

The windows are open and there’s a nice breeze coming in from the balcony. I’m pretty sure the neighbors can once again hear me and are probably thinking, ‘Oh, that bitch again?’ I’m pretty sure I don’t give a damn.

I feel the start of my orgasm building. My feet curl into tight balls, my hands grip the table harder, and my sex writhes harder against Ian’s tongue. I need that orgasm. I need that release. It’s a sweet torture that I hope will end but silently I wish that it won’t.

The orgasm hits me hard and fast. I rise up from the table before I crash back down on it. I’m sure my back is going to hurt later but it’ll be a pain I’ll smile about whenever I feel it.

Ian stands up, stares at me as he lightly strokes his hardened shaft, and what was I doing again? “I want our neighbors to hate us.”

It takes about five minutes to shower. It takes another ten minutes to go from ashy to classy. It takes roughly 15 minutes to beat my face, followed by the last 30 minutes to figure out what outfit I’m going to slay in as I change my mind like ten times.

That being said, Adrienne is just gon’ have to wait.


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To read the first three chapters, click here.