Page 81 of Finessed By A Hood White Boy

After parking my car, I grabbed my tote bag with his things before heading to the door. Trenton had a nice ass house. In my opinion, it seemed a little too big for someone who wasn’t married with kids. But, hey, what did I know? I wasn’t a millionaire who had parents who were billionaires. I rang the doorbell twice and waited patiently for him or anyone to come to the door.

It was a little brisk outside, and the wind had picked up due to a storm rolling in within the next couple of hours. I knew I would be sleeping good tonight. I stood outside for two minutes, waiting for Trenton. My patience was running thin, so I pulled out my work phone to call him. Before I could press his speed dial number, his door swung open.

“I thought you were going to call a few minutes before pulling up.” He sniffed.

“Um, yeah, I meant to. I’m sorry.” I apologized before digging into my tote.

“Here are all the folders you asked for.” I handed him the stack.

“Thank you.” He grabbed them from me.

“Have a great night.” I forced a smile, then turned away.

“Wait a minute. Do you mind coming in for a second?”

“I actually have to get going.”

“It won’t take long.” He smiled.

I contemplated for a moment before I moved toward him. He stood with the door wide open, allowing me into his home. It was so open, so spacious inside. Nice furniture, but there wasn’t much decoration. He had a nice choice of color painted on the wall, but it still seemed so plain. Boring. All he needed to do was hire an interior designer to make his shit pop.

“Do you like the place?” he asked, catching me off guard.

“Uh… yeah. It’s very nice.” I smiled.

He led me into what I assumed was the living room area. The TV was playing, and the lights seemed a little dim, but they were on. Trenton stood off to the side of the room, facing the cabinets lining the wall. His back was turned to me while he rambled about some shit. I didn’t have the slightest idea what he was talking about. He wasn’t really talking about shit, so I didn’t know why he even asked me to come inside. There wasn’t anything he was trying to show me either, or at least I thought so.

“Word around the office is that you like white guys.” He came out of nowhere.

My neck snapped with an attitude because what the fuck did that have to do with my job? Also, who was spreading this word around? I mean, I’m not going to say it’s a lie, but it damn sure ain’t nobody's business to know that. It’s not that I was trying to hide the fact that Ethan and I had a thing going on, but damn. This was the second time it had been brought to my attention because people want to be nosey so bad.

“I don’t know why that’s being said about me. I come to work, and that’s my only focus while on the clock.

“Right.” He chuckled. “I guess Ethan just chooses to be so protective over you for the hell of it, huh? Plus, I see the way you walk around at the office. Strutting in those tight-ass dresses and skirts. To be honest, I enjoy the view of your ass switching around. It’s definitely a turn-on.” He eased his way closer to me.

“I don’t purposely wear fitting clothes. I can’t help the way my body is shaped.”

“I’m not complaining about it.” He laughed. “I just said I enjoyed it. You know, come to think of it, I’ve never been with a black girl before.” He rolled the ends of my hair around his fingers. “The more I see your pretty brown face, the more curious I am. I figured I could give you a nice little raise in exchange for a few favors.” He winked.

It wasn’t until then that I noticed a tiny bit of white substance on the corner of his nose. The man was high and trying to push up on me. I had to get myself out of there.

“I’m fine, actually, and I really have to go.” I gave a hesitant smile while attempting to slide away.

“Why not? Why not take the extra money and give me what I want? I mean, you’re fuckin’ my prick of a brother, right? What is it that he's giving you? Don’t say nothing because I know that’s a fucking lie. I see you’re driving a brand new Maybach, that proves to me pretty bitches like you always take the money. Get slutted out. Find the next guy and repeat.

“Excuse you?” I spat.

“If you want to continue working for my family and making good money, you’ll give me what I want. I want to suck on you to see if you really taste like chocolate or honey.” He laughed out loud.

I attempted to push him back out of my face, but he grabbed my wrist.

“Let me go!”

“Come on, just let me get a taste.” He roughly groped me.

“Trenton! Get off me!”

He went for the button on my pants, and I tried to push him off, but he grabbed my wrist again. We tussled for a moment before he wrapped his arms tightly around me.