A/N: This was supposed to be live already but it’s not. So, until then, I’ll post another snippet and will send out the buy links.
Shout-out to the wonderful ladies who served as betas. You are the best!
Caught between choosing me and running his empire, I knew which way he would lean. He was the most powerful man in East Atlanta and I was his. He laced me up with the finest and I never had to ask for anything; it was just given to me.
With every corner on lock, my mind couldn’t ignore the destruction and devastation he’d caused even in his own family. My body yearned to have him and every lonely night was a reminder of what was.
He promised he would take care of me forever as long as I looked the other way. The other way, however, is harder to look at if blood splatters your feet.
I knew him as Cameron but the world knew him as Finesse.
“Is there a reason why I had to be blindfolded for this?” I hold onto Cameron for dear life as we walk down a quiet alley. I’m not a fan of being blindfolded, even though that’s Cameron’s kink. And I’m not a fan of being blindfolded in an unfamiliar place. I clearly trust this white boy too much.
Cameron sent the driver back to the hotel to drop off my bags as we went to our last adventure. We had dinner at another great restaurant and I took some pictures for the ‘Gram to showcase my beautiful meal.
We walked around the city with Cameron’s security not too far from us at any given time. He showed me different parts of Harlem he was very familiar with. I asked him the different places he’d visited and was very impressed by his passport stamps.
He’d lived in a variety of places in just a short time and had that little bit in common with Laurie, my mother. He’d learned to read people well, and scope out an area before fully coming into it. He never liked being blindsided by something or someone.
Cameron’s demeanor changed depending on whom he was with. When he was with his boys, he could be serious or playful, but never both. With me, he was boyish, funny, and romantic. With his parents, always respectful and acquiescent.
It was something he’d learned from his father and studied very well. They were alike in many ways. They had the same charming smile, the way they could start a conversation with just anyone and have that person be enamored with them; how they knew the most random facts and completely useless information yet made it all seem like it was something everyone had to know.
They both enjoyed a good, expensive Cuban, and Eric taught Cameron how to golf because that was expected growing up wealthy. They didn’t spend a lot of time with each other but when they did, it was always barbeques, watching a game (usually in person and always, front row seats), and taking time for the regular photo-ops for their fans.
They were also different in many ways. Eric was very traditional in his appearance and was rarely caught without wearing a polo or his Oxfords. Cameron loved his Jordans and jeans, and rarely strayed away from them.
Eric’s friends and associates looked exactly like him, thought like him, and acted like him; Cameron was the white dot in a sea of chocolate and it seemed he preferred it that way. Cameron never spoke slang, not because he didn’t want to offend me but rather, he just didn’t want to. Eric was the probably the type that still said getting jiggy with it.
I still couldn’t help the obvious contrast in their lives. Sons rarely strayed away from their fathers in both attitude and lifestyle, yet it seemed Eric accepted it. Eric and Cameron were thick as thieves and were each other’s biggest fans.
I spent more time wondering about that more I was comfortable with. Cameron was taking me to a private place and I’m blindfolded walking down Harlem. I heard whispers and not-so private comments about what was going on. On-lookers were surprisingly respectful, though I get the feeling they had to be, not necessarily they wanted to.
“We’re here.” Cameron’s deep voice brings me back to my senses. We’re inside a shop and I honestly can’t tell what kind it is. It’s awfully quiet and I don’t hear any other voices with the exception of one. I heard Cameron talking to someone in the distance.
“Just lock it up when you’re done, kid.” An older man tells Cameron. “Have fun.” He leaves.
I don’t know if I should stand or sit so I just fold my arms and hope I don’t look too stupid. “Where are we?” I finally ask after a long silence.
“Take off the blindfold, baby.” He instructs me and I hurriedly take it off. I look around see it’s a record store. I shrug.
“Okay?” I question. “Why are we here?”
“My, your memory is surely going at your old age.” Cameron chuckles at me and I stick my tongue out. He lays down a few blankets and I see a picnic basket to the side. He lays down on the blankets and motions for me to join him. “I do recall a certain young lady wanted to lay down and listen to records all night. So, you have your pick of the litter.” He pops open a bottle of champagne and pours two glasses. “We have the whole store to ourselves. Security will be outside guarding it and we can leave anytime you want to head back to the hotel.” He hands me a glass and clinks it. “To you, baby. Happy Birthday. I hope it’s the first of many more we’ll celebrate.”
And so it began, we spent the evening listening to old records and enjoying each other. Shalamar serenaded us with “This is for the Lover in You” as we fed each other strawberries. The System warmed our bodies with “Don’t Disturb This Groove.” We talked about Prince’s genius pen when “I Feel For You” by Chaka Khan was played.
We must’ve listened to dozens of songs and yet, it felt like we just got started with our night. When I excitedly explained how much I loved “Groove Me,” Cameron didn’t make fun of my choice. Instead, we went into a lengthy discussion about Teddy Riley.
We slow danced to “Whip Appeal” and made out during “Sweet Love.” It was so romantic, so perfect, and so…everything I’ve ever wanted.