Simply Complicated


Wedding Weekend


It was all a dream…

When legal wunderkind Savior Ellison meets college intern Keisha Jones, sparks fly. He gave her an offer she did refuse, and it only made him want her more. If Keisha wants Savior to chase her, he hopes she has a good pair of running shoes.

Keisha Jones doesn’t believe in fairytales and especially the type that has a white knight in a shiny Bentley. Every girl has a past, and Keisha’s is often played out on reality TV. If Savior wants her, he has 90 days to prove it.

Can Savior convince Keisha to give him forever? Or will Keisha’s past revelations put a stop to the relationship before it starts?

Sex, drugs, and politics. All in a day’s work.

Simply Complicated is a standalone erotic full-length novel. It deals with trust, gentrification, and true love.


This nigga really doesn’t show up this early unless he done fucked up.

Jalen looks like a snack and I suddenly want a nibble. He’s wearing saggy jeans with a white tee that fits his muscular frame. His dreads looked like they were actually washed for a change and not smell like kimchi with a side of sulfur.

As I get ready in my bedroom, I feel Jalen’s eyes on me. He’s watching me do my makeup as I’m trying to figure out what shade of the Too Faced eye palette would look best with my wardrobe. It’s not unusual for Jalen to watch me put on my face as he lays in bed. It is unusual for him to show up at seven-thirty on a Monday morning to do so.

I hadn’t heard from Jalen all weekend, and that’s typical with our arrangement. I call it an arrangement because it damn sure ain’t a fucking relationship but I digress. I know what we are and so does he. He has plenty of chicks in his harem and I’m not sure where I am in that. I don’t know if I’m a bottom bitch, side chick, or new chick. It doesn’t matter.

It does matter, however, seeing a shiny BMW parked outside my door caused some eyebrows to be raised. No one asks questions because of my daddy, but everyone knows Jalen, for the budding drug dealer he is, doesn’t exactly have the cash to get me a fully loaded Beemer. It’s hard to give one girlfriend a Beemer when the others are still using their feet as main transportation.

The goal was for the car to stay fully parked in front of my home and not drive it. But each time I looked out the window, I saw how beautiful the car was and I just knew I would look good behind it. I took it out for a spin and of course; I fell in love with it. Leather seats. Panoramic sunroof. Navigation. Front and back cameras. And that sound system? You know my black ass was bumping 90s hip-hop all weekend.

Jalen has questions and unfortunately for him, I don’t have any answers he needs to know.  “So, who got that for you?”

“A friend.” It’s not a lie, but I’m not sure if it’s the truth. Does a man going down on you count as just a friend?

Jalen stares down at his phone for a long moment before he looks up and watches me intently. We both know I’m lying and Jalen’s eyes are questioning if it’s the truth he really wants to know. “What friend?” He pushes. “Someone I know?”

I remember SoundCloud’s words. Everyone knows who the Ellisons are. Even if people have no clue exactly what they do or known for, you do know one thing about the family – they’re loaded.  “No,” I softly reply.

“I noticed you’re not wearing your wigs anymore,” Jalen replies as he glances at my nearly bald head. “I like the wigs on you.”

Funny how Savior didn’t like the wigs on me at all. Now I have the image of going down on Savior as he caresses my fade and I look up at him approvingly. I wonder if I would be able to take him all in or just inch by inch until I can’t.

I shake the image out of my head and watch Jalen through the mirror. He goes back to checking his phone. Something captures his attention – probably another thot showing her titties for the ‘Gram – and he approvingly smiles. The smile is quickly erased and he locks eyes with me. “Keish, you know I love you, right?”

Jalen wouldn’t know what love is if it slid down a stripper pole. I’m sure the same thing he’s telling me, he’s told the other chicks. Does love have several girlfriends? Does love tell a girl not to talk anything serious with him because he doesn’t want her to ruin his high? Does love blow off several dates for drug deals? And any holidays or birthdays? Forget it!

It’s like the old carrot dangling in front of the rabbit deal – you tell me enough to get me to stay and drop the argument but you damn well know you won’t go through with any of it.

If this is what love is, I really want the nigga to hate me. “Uh-huh.”

“I just hope everything is cool between us,” he gets off the bed and gets on the floor with me. He sits behind me and wraps his legs around my body. “I just want us to be cool.” He kisses my ear.

Jalen knows he can’t compete with a brand-new BMW and the sudden interest he has in me now wasn’t there all weekend. Our block is a small one and I know word must’ve gotten back to him that one of his girls had a gift that he didn’t give.

Maybe a week ago, his declaration might have worked. A weekend later with Savior having a face full of Keisha Jones makes a sista have second thoughts. “Your package is still in my closet. Take it with you when you leave.”


“He must really like you to give you this car,” Tasha begins as I drive her to work.

Tasha finally listened to my advice and decided Lyft wasn’t the way to go unless she was making some serious bank from it. But she likes the drive and the wonderful feeling of waking up every morning and seeing her account isn’t overdrawn so she decided to apply for a city job. Good for her. I’m proud of my bestie.

“I’m not sure if he actually gave it to me.” I am well aware the registration has Savior’s name on it. He may have “given” a car to me on Saturday but my black ass knows the following Monday, it was simply a loaner he could take back at any time.

It makes the decision to give it back to him that much easier. “If I wanted a Beemer, I could ask my daddy for one.”

“Why are you being so difficult about this? This white boy wants to spoil you and all you have to do is suck his dick and fuck him a few times?” Tasha blinks. “What’s the issue with that?”

“The issue is I don’t want to.” Bullshit. The issue is I do want to. I like Savior more than I’m willing to admit. He’s already had an effect on me that I can’t shake off and that’s the problem.

The arrangement he wants is purely sexual with no-strings attached. I’m already attached and I need to end this ASAP before I get hurt. “It’s best for both parties we end this now.”

Tasha shrugs and shakes her head. “If you say so. I still think you’re making a huge mistake.”

“Well, I’ll pay the cost for that.” I reply. The worst thing that could happen is my internship suddenly ends and Savior’s ass is blasted in the papers because I sued him for sexual harassment.

Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen.

We stop at a traffic signal and watch some touristy-looking white folks pass through the crosswalk. A few years ago, a white person wouldn’t be caught dead in Inglewood unless they were trying to buy drugs or ass. Nowadays, they’re up and down Crenshaw.

“Received any more offers on your granny’s home?” Tasha asks.

“About once a month,” I reply as I watch Karen and the Gentrifiers talk about whatever white girls do in those TV shows. Since the new NFL stadium is being built here, land in Inglewood has become a hot commodity.

Of course, when land becomes a hot commodity, the home and rent prices naturally go up. A few people have already sold their homes and got the hell out of Inglewood as fast as they could. Others are trying to find some gigs to make ends meet.

“Are you going to sell it?” Tasha asks. I know she’s lowkey worried about not having a place to stay because it would mean she would actually have to become an adult and pay rent.

“I don’t know yet.” I honestly answer. “I have to see how the market does within the next year or two before I can entertain any offers. Right now they’re just lowballing me and they hope because I’m young enough, that also equates to me being dumb enough.”

The thought of selling my Granny’s home as come across my mind more times that I want to admit. It’s a duplex with me and Tasha being in one home, and my auntie being in the other. If I ever decide to sell it, I would have to inform everyone involved and I don’t know if I’m comfortable knowing Tasha and my auntie might not be able to stay in the neighborhood because they can’t afford it.

On the same tip, if this arrangement with Savior goes through, I won’t be at home to enjoy it and let’s face it, every person dreams of leaving their hometown. Some come back, some stay gone. But everyone has that dream of leaving and seeing what’s out there.

I would get mad about the blatant gentrification going on but a part of it is also the neighborhood’s fault. No one was protesting the predatory paycheck loans and gig economy hustles like those ride shares and how they predominantly post in the black and brown neighborhoods.

No one cares about how certain ads during the daytime are only aired on channels where the viewership is usually black and brown folk. No one was protesting about how there are a dime a dozen hair salons but no one owns a beauty supply shop, where the real money is.

No one cares about drug dealers, prostitution, and gangbanging until a white person is killed. Then all of a sudden, everyone is a damn community activist, holding up Black Lives Matter signs, knowing they know someone would kill another person for looking at them the wrong way or worst yet, wearing the wrong color.

But they don’t hear me, tho.


I’m at the law firm at nine o’clock sharp.

As my feet click-clack through the shiny polished floors of a downtown L.A. skyscraper, my stomach is cinched with nervousness I haven’t felt since I lost my virginity way back when.

I stand behind a group of people at the elevator, and only one name is on my mind – Savior.

Ever since he’d surprised me by showing up at home a couple days ago – and giving me the best head of my entire life – I had a lot to think about. This white boy really wants to pay for my tuition as long as I can be his fuck toy. He even gave me a car to sweeten the deal.

The offer sounds tempting and I’m sure there are a dozen women who would look at me sideways for even thinking about the offer when they would’ve said yes. But I know the type of guy Savior Ellison is. Those thick, invisible strings he has with his offer are obvious and let’s face it, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.

Even if the free lunch comes with an incredible tongue that can pleasure you just right.

I did my homework on one Savior Ellison. Graduated with top honors from USC, both undergrad and law school.

His father, Thomas, made the rounds of the talk show pundits, appearing anywhere from CNN to ‘We Hate Anyone Brown’ aka Fox News to local TV stations. Being a well-respected civil rights lawyer, Thomas helped start the law firm and is still active in the black community to this day.

Seeing his profile, I do recall seeing him and probably didn’t think anything of it. I try not to get into politics just because I don’t believe there’s a purpose of getting upset when at the end of the day, I’ll still be screwed.

It seems like Savior is passionate about his work but he’s the complete opposite of his daddy. Coined “The Silent Lawyer” by the press, Savior never gives any press conferences or interviews. He would rather his work in the courtroom speak for itself. He’s considered to be one of the best urban development lawyers in the nation and has a track record of winning that’ll make Johnnie Cochran smile.

He’s been honored by the NAACP, and other civil rights groups from all over. A bit more digging revealed he pledged Kappa Alpha Psi and I don’t know why I’m surprised he’s a Nupe when he fits the perfect profile of one. He’s a philanthropist and gives an insane amount of money to various causes every year.

To any woman, Savior would be a catch and looking at his dating life, I imagine he is. Every woman he was spotted with looked a certain way – tall, leggy, and usually blonde. I’m short, thick, and bald. I’m everything but what he’s looking for.

The realization sets in. I don’t know why I entertained the thought of being Savior’s girlfriend when it’s clear he only wants sex and give me something in return so I don’t feel he’s wasting my time. I wasn’t stupid enough to start writing Keisha Ellison with little heart emojis and happy faces.

I never had the chance.

I straighten my shoulders and go straight to my desk. I have a list of assignments I need to do. Awesome. I’ll be busy enough so I won’t be distracted. Before I can do any work, I have serious business to take care of.

I walk straight to Savior’s office where I’m greeted by a smiling Easton. He’s dressed in his Neiman Marcus finest, staying Coogi down to the socks. “Hello, Miss Keisha,” his effeminate voice has just the right amount of masculinity to it, “how was your weekend?”

Savior slides his body down mine and pulls my jeans off me. He lies between my thighs and pulls my panties aside to see my almost-bald snatch. Without saying another word, his tongue caresses my clit and I’m sent home to glory.

“Oh fuck!” I cry out as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my pussy closer to his face. His tongue is delectable, greedy, and just fucking wonderful. My body starts riding his tongue with every stroke and lick.

I shake the memory out of my head and force myself back into the present. It was all right until your boss gave me head and then it became absolutely splendid. “It was good,” I manage to say. “How was yours?”

“My weekend was incredible. Lots of sunbathing and relaxing.” His smile is so charming. Easton looks like the supreme poster boy to go yachting on the weekends in Newport Beach or some other area wealthy white people roam around with an invisible No Negroes Allowed sign. “How can I be of assistance to you?”

“I have something to drop off for Savior.” I pull out the BMW keys and hand them over to Easton. “He’ll know what this is about.”

Easton glances at the keys and looks back up at me. His eyes are very telling, almost as if he’s pleading with me to take the keys back. I have a feeling he might know about the arrangement and he’s wise enough not to interject. “Oh…um, all right. Did you want to leave a note?”

“No,” I shake my head, “Mr. Ellison will know what this is about. Thank you.” I turn to leave and head straight to the break room.

I know what I did was a mistake and a half and I’m probably going to really regret not driving that Beemer as my Honda sputters during the cold winter, but I have to make a point to that man.

I cannot be bought. No fancy car, no paid tuition, nothing will buy me. I would rather work three jobs than to know all I had to do was suck a man’s dick to go to college free.

I grab my coffee and head back to my desk. As I approach my desk and see the familiar body outline sitting in my chair. I smelled his wonderful masculine scent before I saw him and there was a small thump in my panties.

His brown eyes drill me and his mouth crinkles just slightly as he carefully watches me. He doesn’t say a word but he doesn’t have to. My feet suddenly become cinder blocks. Anticipation and nervousness wrap around my body and I’m at a loss for words.

I’m grasping my hot coffee as hard as I can because I’m afraid I’m going to spill it everywhere.

Savior Ellison is not one to be messed with and he’s making sure I know that in every way possible. “Our eleven o’clock meeting just got pushed up to right now.”


First several chapters on Wattpad are located here:

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