AFRICAN AMERICAN ROMANCE: A Thug to Remember (Hood Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (African American Urban Contemporary Short Stories) Read Free Page B

so too do my preferences change.”
    “You expect me to believe you’re a gentleman?”
    “Of course I am.  I have self-respect.  And when I go out, I make sure it’s all about my lady.”
    “You sound like a player to me,” Thelma said folding her arms.  “I have self-respect too.  And I don’t treat dating so casually.”
    “I am a man of great desire.  I don’t hesitate and I go after what I want.  I tell you one thing.  Every single woman I’ve ever dated chased after me first.”
    “Really?”
    “It’s the element of danger.  It’s a turn on.  It’s the next best thing to being a celebrity.  I have money.  I have power.  And I have momma’s disapproval.  Oh yeah and the fact that I’m black is just the icing on the cake.”  He winked.
    “I’ve never understood that, you know,” Thelma said, leaning in and resting her chin on her hand.  “As soon as a black man succeeds in life he’s got to marry a white woman.”
    “Boys will be boys,” he said with a snicker.  “But if it gets to be a thing then that nigga just have low self-esteem.”
    “See, now why you always gotta say the N word?”
    “It’s our word, that’s why.  We took it back.  I grew up watching Richard Pryor on television.  He was my hero.  Told the world where to stick it.  He had no fear.  Or to put it another way, he never let anyone talk down to him.  Whether it was a white nightclub bouncer or the host of a talk show.”
    “You have a lot of anger, don’t you?” she said, looking into his intense eyes, which were constantly staring at her.
    “I have passion.  Is it a bit of a roller coaster to be part of my life?  Of course.  But the quality of life is not determined by how long we stay alive.  It’s about creating good memories.  Memories of love, compassion, and yes, sometimes it’s about sex.  The kind of intense and mind blowing sex that we accidentally experience once in a lifetime.”
    Thelma flinched and crossed her legs.
    “I’m not going to get to heaven for my abstinence,” he laughed.  “So I try to be extra kind to people.  You feel me?”
    “I get it,” she said, silenced and in deep thought.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.  I just find your lifestyle so opposite to my own.”
    “Opposites attract.”
    “Not always.”
    “Are you attracted to me?”
    “No.”
    “Liar,” he said with a grin.  “I can sense when a woman wants me.”
    “Oh really?  You have a lot of nerve, don’t you?”
    “No.  I’m just an expert at reading people.”
    “Oh, well it just so happens I am too.  I studied body language in college.”
    “So you can read my thoughts?”
    “Sure, I could if I wanted to.”
    “And what am I thinking now?” he asked with a sneer.
    “I really don’t care to know…”
    “Sure you do.  I’m thinking you’re a beautiful woman and I’m happy that you’ve brought joy to my dark world of mayhem and treachery.  Now, let’s dance shall we?”
    “I thought this was a classy place?  No dancing or…”
    “It is a classy place.  Classy dancing.  Slow dancing.  Come on, Miss Grayson.  I won’t move too fast.”
    “Yeah…like I believe that,” she said with a guarded smile.  She eventually accepted the offer and joined him on the dance floor.  It was a quick dance before dinner but it did give the two opposites some time to feel the attraction.
    Whatever it was, it felt real.  Polar opposites forced to reconcile and compromise, all the while envying the other person with desperation.  She admired his power to get things done.  He admired her class and position of prominence, legitimized gangsta shit he called all this talk of politics.
    Of course, as the night progressed they hit upon the stubborn reality of their respective worlds.
    “So, you are involved in organized crime?”
    He smiled and took a drink.  “Two opposite trains, my lady.  The real difference between us, between all successful black families and a bunch