Scarlet and Ebony Pt. 03

Author's Note: All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All comments and feedback are welcomed.

HF

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Catherine's heart raced a bit as she scanned the conference room, looking for Andre among the crowd. She smoothed her dress, a sleek, fitted navy-blue sheath with a subtle gold belt and capped sleeves. It gave her a sophisticated, professional edge that she knew would impress her audience -- and perhaps someone else if he saw her. Her heels, a modest yet elegant pair of nude stilettos, completed the look. She'd chosen a simple gold necklace and small stud earrings, her red hair swept into a loose, soft updo. She felt confident and at ease, ready for both her presentation, and, to see Andre.

It had been weeks since their last time together in Washington, and though their calls kept the connection alive, nothing quite matched the warmth of being together in the same room. Or the same bed. When her eyes finally landed on him near the back of the room, she felt a quiet thrill ripple through her. His tall, commanding figure and easy confidence made him stand out amongst the crowd of tech attendees. He wore a tailored gray suit, seemingly effortlessly polished yet utterly relaxed at the same time as he scanned the room and met her gaze with a warm, appreciative smile. God, he's so handsome... she thought with a flutter of excitement. He made it. Just as he promised.

The crowd quieted, and Catherine took a deep breath, stepping up to the podium. She centered herself, taking a last look at the notes in front of her. You've got this, Cat, she told herself.

"Good afternoon, everyone," she began, letting her voice settle into a steady rhythm. Her training as a lawyer had helped and she only felt a little tremor of nerves before every presentation. "My name is Catherine Donovan, and I'm the Chief Legal Officer for AscendTech. Today, we'll be discussing some of the major regulatory changes facing the tech industry, specifically in data protection and compliance. My goal is to help you understand not only what's required but also how to prepare your organization for these changes efficiently and effectively."

She caught Andre's gaze from the back of the room as she spoke, feeling a surge of confidence in herself as she spoke about the legal technicalities impacting the industry. Although the material was complex, Cat enjoyed the way he listened intently to every word she uttered during her presentation. As if she was the sole thing in his world.

Once her presentation wrapped up, the crowd broke into polite applause, and Catherine allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction at a job well done. As people dispersed, Andre wove his way through the small crowd to meet her, his smile growing as he approached her.

"That was impressive," he said, his voice rich with admiration. "You make legal work sound downright fascinating. I'm pretty sure you convinced even the tech-averse folks in there."

Catherine laughed softly, a warmth spreading through her at his praise, her cheek flushing pink. "Thank you. I'm glad you found it interesting." She paused, taking in the sight of the handsome Black man in front of her. "I wasn't sure how much detail to go into, but it seemed like people were with me."

"They definitely were," he assured her, his dark-brown eyes softening as they held hers. "I was with you the whole time."

They moved to the quieter lobby, finding a spot near the large windows. The Miami skyline gleamed in the distance, the evening lights flickering as the sky dimmed as afternoon slowly turned to evening.

"So," she said, smiling as she turned to face him fully. "How was your meeting today? Any big wins?"

Andre gave a small nod, his face lighting up. "Actually, yes. The client I met this morning signed up for a new investment. It's a project we've been working on for a while, and I was finally able to convince them to come on board."

She beamed. "That's fantastic, Andre! I know you've been working on that deal for weeks."

"Yeah, it feels good," he admitted, leaning slightly closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you could say I've been inspired by you."

Catherine's smile grew, her heart beating just a bit faster at the way he looked at her. "Thank you," she replied softly, a flicker of shyness crossing her face before she composed herself. "It's nice to see someone who appreciates the way I run things. And I'm glad to hear you closed the deal."

They walked to a nearby restaurant, finding a cozy booth where they could talk more privately. As they settled in, she took a deep breath, savoring the relaxed intimacy of the moment.

"So," she said, glancing up at him as the waiter handed them menus. "How does it feel to have closed that big deal?"

Andre smiled, tilting his head slightly as he considered. "It feels good. Like I'm on track with where I want to be. I love what I do. But..." He paused, giving her a wry smile. "I guess there's something refreshing about meeting someone outside of that world. You know what I mean?"

She nodded. "I do. It's like I can step away from the legal jargon and just... enjoy the company of someone who understands it but isn't tied to it every second."

They talked about their work, each finding in the other an unexpected depth of understanding. She hadn't expected to feel so close to someone in such a short time. But with Andre, things felt natural, unforced. There was a down to earth feeling to him, confidence that didn't demand attention but rather invited it. She found it appealing and refreshing.

When he asked about her daily work routine, she explained the juggling act between high-stakes meetings and drafting legal briefs, the challenges of the constantly evolving tech regulations that consumed her days. And he listened, genuinely engaged, asking thoughtful questions.

"Do you ever feel like you're holding the whole thing together? Work, I mean," he asked, a small smile on his face.

"Sometimes," she admitted, giving a slight shrug. "But that's the part I love -- making sense of the chaos. I know that probably sounds strange."

"It doesn't sound strange at all," he said quietly, holding her gaze. "I can see that about you. And it's impressive."

The conversation drifted to lighter topics -- Miami's nightlife, travel, favorite cities. But as they spoke, there was an undercurrent of mutual admiration that brought them closer, each story drawing them deeper into the growing connection between them. Cat felt the stirring in the pit of her stomach as she glanced at him. Was this the beginning of something deeper?

When the food arrived, they shared plates and tasted each other's dishes, laughing over their different preferences. Catherine felt relaxed, savoring not just the food but the entire experience of being there with him, learning more about him, and feeling seen for a change. Not just as the CLO for a tech corporation or Harry's ex-wife.

After dinner, they strolled through the Miami streets, enjoying the warm, salty evening air and the crowds bustling around. She slipped her arm through his, feeling content and slightly giddy, like she was in a perfect, unexpected moment she wanted to last forever.

"Tonight was perfect," she murmured, glancing up at him. "Thank you."

"It's only perfect because of the company," he replied softly, his gaze intense and warm. He paused, as if weighing his words before he continued, "I don't think I've ever met someone quite like you, Catherine."

Her heart skipped a beat. There was tenderness in his eyes that made her feel cherished, something she hadn't felt in a long time. I wish this night could go on forever.

"Right back at you," she replied, her voice a little hushed. "I don't think I've met anyone quite like you, either."

*****

Catherine stood by the hotel room window, the glass of wine in her hand catching the soft lights from the Miami skyline. The city pulsed outside, alive, and bright, but in that moment, all she felt was calmness. She took a slow sip, savoring both the wine and the feeling of Andre's presence nearby. She heard him approach softly, his footsteps quiet on the carpet. He came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her gently back against him as he leaned down to kiss the side of her neck.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured, his warm breath brushing her skin.

A small smile played on her lips, and she tilted her head to give him better access. "I was thinking... I never thought I'd feel this way again. Not after everything with Harry."

Andre's hands tightened around her waist just a bit, a reassuring presence. He pressed another kiss to her neck, slow and tender, before whispering, "Good things happen to good people, Catherine. And you deserve good things."

She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes. The sincerity in his gaze made her heart swell with affection towards him, and she leaned back against him fully, letting herself trust in the warmth he offered. God, I've missed this... she thought, almost languidly to herself as she lost herself in the sensations.

Andre took the glass from her hand and set it aside, then ran his fingers lightly along her shoulders, tracing the delicate line where her dress rested against her skin. His hands found the zipper at the back of her dress, and he paused, just for a moment, looking down at her with a smile that was both playful and inviting.

"May I?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

She nodded, her pulse quickening in excitement and anticipation. Slowly, he began to ease the zipper down, his fingertips brushing her back as he worked it inch by inch. She shivered, feeling the coolness of the air on her pale skin as he carefully slid the fabric down. He let his hands trail along her arms as he guided the dress down, his touch gentle but firm, savoring each moment as he peeled the garment from her shoulders.

As the dress slipped down her body, pooling around her feet, he wrapped his arms around her again, pressing a tender kiss on her shoulder. Catherine turned to face him, her eyes meeting his, and in that moment, the only sound was the quiet rhythm of their breaths, matched in perfect harmony.

"God, Cat... you're so beautiful..." he whispered as he gazed into her blue eyes.

Before she could respond, he knelt down in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her calves, his touch gentle but assured. She could feel the warmth of his palms through the delicate fabric of her pantyhose, and a soft, electric thrill ran up her spine. He took his time, sliding his hands down to her ankles and reaching for her left heel first. His fingers traced the curve of her ankle before he unbuckled the delicate strap and lifted her foot slightly, his hand supporting her as he carefully slipped the shoe off. His touch lingered just a moment longer than necessary, his fingers brushing over Catherine's arch, making her toes curl instinctively.

A soft, appreciative smile played at his lips as he repeated the same motion with her other heel, leaving her barefoot yet somehow feeling even more exposed, more vulnerable in front of him. His movements were so tender, so careful, as though he was undressing her with as much attention as she'd give to a delicate piece of art. And yet, there was nothing rushed in his actions; he was entirely focused on her, on every movement, on her breathing, on her reaction. It was a heady, intoxicating feeling for Catherine.

Andre's hands then drifted back up her legs, finding the edge of her pantyhose. She felt him hook his fingers around the sheer fabric at her waist, pausing to look up at her, as if asking for her permission to continue. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her heart fluttering in anticipation. She was amazed at how, even with the gentlest touch, he could make her feel cherished and understood. Slowly, he began to slide the pantyhose down, inch by inch, his hands caressing her legs as he went, as if relishing every new inch of skin he uncovered.

Catherine let herself relax, enjoying each deliberate moment. She felt a rush of warmth as he slid the pantyhose past her knees, down her calves, and then finally off her feet, leaving her standing before him in just her lingerie. There was something incredibly intimate about the way he knelt there, his focus entirely on her, his touch never wavering. Harry was never like this, she realized to herself.

The tall, Black man rose slowly to his feet in front of her, his hands finding the clasp of her bra. She could feel the gentleness in his fingers as he undid the hooks, letting the straps fall softly over her shoulders. Catherine shivered slightly as he slid the straps down her arms, and her heart skipped a beat as the bra slipped away, his gaze never leaving hers.

The redheaded woman felt a warm blush rise to her cheeks, but he only smiled, his eyes filled with a tenderness that took her breath away, as if she were the only person in his world. With the same quiet reverence, he slipped his fingers under the sides of her panties, his touch warm and tender against her soft, pale skin. Catherine's breathing quickened slightly, his chest rising and falling, as he guided the garment down her hips, his hands grazing her skin as he slipped them over her thighs and let them fall away.

Andre's hands slid up Catherine's bare arms, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her collarbone before cradling her face. His dark eyes held hers, smoldering with barely restrained desire. "You're stunning," he murmured, his voice rough with admiration and lust.

She arched a playful brow, her lips curving. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Johnson."

He chuckled, low and warm, before closing the distance between them. His kiss was slow at first -- a teasing brush of lips, a nibble at her lower lip -- before deepening into something hungrier. Catherine sighed into his mouth, her fingers tangling in the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, tugging impatiently.

"Off," she demanded between kisses.

Andre obeyed, shrugging out of his shirt with a smirk. His chest was broad, sculpted from years of disciplined exercise, his dark skin warm and smooth beneath her palms. She dragged her nails lightly down his torso, delighting in the way his muscles tensed under her touch. Reaching his belt, she unbuckled it, feeling him swell even further beneath the fabric of his trousers.

A moment later, the trousers hit the floor around his ankles, and he kicked his shoes free before stepping out of his trousers. Catherine's gaze lingered at the bulge at the front of his boxers and with a flirty grin, she stroked the outline of his cock before tugging the garment down his legs.

Andre's cock sprung free, black, and proud, the shaft crisscrossed with veins and topped with a bulbous head that already seeped moisture. "Hmm... nice... very nice," she said in a sultry tone as she stroked a red-painted fingernail along the length of his shaft.

"Tease," he accused, but his hands were already on her waist, guiding her backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed. The plush duvet met her bare skin, cool against her flushed body as she settled onto it. He followed her down onto the bed, his weight braced on one arm while the other hand cradled her face, his thumb stroking her cheekbone.

"You're stunning like this," he murmured, his voice rough with desire as his eyes wandered over her pale, flushed body. "All laid out for me."

She arched into his touch, her fingers threading into his close-cropped hair. "Then do something about it," she teased, her voice low and breathy.

His answering grin was wicked. "With pleasure."

He captured her mouth in a slow, deep kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a rhythm that made her toes curl. She could taste the remnants of wine on his thick lips, dark and sweet, mingling with the heat of his breath. His free hand roamed down her body, skimming the swell of her breast, the dip of her waist, before settling firmly and possessive on her hip.

When he finally broke the kiss, his lips trailed down her jaw, her throat, pausing to suck lightly on her soft, pale skin as he felt her shudder at his touch. A soft gasp escaped her as his teeth grazed her skin, the sharp pleasure-pain sending a jolt straight to her core as he nibbled seductively on her.

"Andre --" she panted, her arousal growing by the second.

"Shh," he murmured against her collarbone. "Relax... just let me take care of you..."

His mouth moved lower, his thick tongue flicking over one taut, pink nipple before he took it fully into his mouth, sucking gently. Catherine arched off the bed with a moan, her hands tightening in his hair, enjoying the sensation of his suckling on her sensitive peak. The Black man hummed in approval, his fingers pinching and rolling her other nipple, sending twin waves of pleasure spiraling through her.

"God, you're so fucking responsive, Cat" he growled, switching his attention to her other breast, lavishing it with the same slow, torturous attention.

The redheaded woman whimpered, her hips lifting instinctively, seeking friction against his dark body. "Please... you're killing me here..."

He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against her damp, flushed skin. "Patience, Cat. We've got all night." His words elicited a moan from the back of her throat, part anticipation, part frustration.

His lips traced a path down the soft, porcelain skin of her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel before he settled between her toned thighs. He pressed a kiss to the inside of each knee, his hands sliding up to grip her hips. When his breath washed over her slick folds, she shuddered, her thighs trembling.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration as he glanced up at the redheaded woman panting on the bed in front of him. "Soaked just from my mouth on your tits."

Before Catherine could retort, his thick tongue swiped through her red-hair covered folds in one long, slow stroke. At the first touch of his tongue on her sensitive labia, Catherine's back immediately bowed off the bed, a broken moan tearing loudly from her throat. He groaned against her, the vibration sending another shock of pleasure through her.

"Fuck," she gasped.

Andre didn't let up. He licked into her with deliberate, rhythmic strokes, his tongue circling her clit before sucking it gently between his lips. Her hips jerked, her fingers fisting in the sheets as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside her. Oh, God... he's so good at this... she mused, trying and failing not to lose herself in the waves of pleasure emanating from her pussy.

"Andre... oh, fuck... I... I'm close --" she gasped, feeling the delicious onset of her first climax of the evening.

Spreading her legs wider apart with his hands, Andre slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward just right to locate her g-spot, and her vision whited out as her climax crashed over her. She cried out, her thighs clamping around his head as he worked her through it, his mouth relentless on her clit until she was wrung out and trembling.

When he finally pulled back, his lips glistening with evidence of her arousal, his dark eyes were heavy with satisfaction. "Damn, Cat... you taste so fucking good."

Catherine, still catching her breath, gave him a sultry smirk. "My turn."

Before he could move, Catherine pushed against his shoulders, as she hooked a leg around his waist, rolling him onto his back with surprising strength. Andre's eyebrows shot up. "Someone's impatient."

"Someone's a tease," she countered as she straddled him. Her palms flattened against his chest, marveling at the contrast -- pale, porcelain white against deep brown, soft against hard muscle. She leaned down, her red hair draped like a curtain around their faces as she kissed him, tasting herself on his lips. "Now it's my turn," she whispered as she pulled back.

Andre's hands settled on her hips, dark thumbs stroking her pale skin as she kissed him -- deep, hungry, passionate, all tongue and teeth. When she rocked against him, his dark, heavy cock twitched beneath her, already hard. Her hand slid between them, wrapping around his length. Andre hissed as Catherine stroked him, her thumb swiping over the head, spreading the moisture that she found beading there. She loved the way he felt -- thick and heavy in her hand, his skin silken and hot. The most perfect cock she'd ever experienced.

"Cat," he warned, his voice strained, as she gave him another slow, deliberate stroke as she grinned down at him.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips jerking. "You're going to kill me here like this."

"Good." She smirked. "Then die happy."

She released his cock, propping herself above him on her hands and knees, rubbing her pussy along the length of his shaft. He's enjoying this... and so am I, she thought naughtily to herself as she watched his blissful expression as she coated his cock in her juices. I think he's ready now...

Catherine braced her hands on his chest. Pale against dark, her fingers splayed over his pectorals as she lifted herself, positioning him at her entrance. Andre's grip on her hips tightened. "Jesus Christ, Cat... slow..." he gritted out as she sank down, inch by torturous inch, her breath hitching at the stretch, the delicious fullness she felt when he was inside her. When she finally took him fully, they both stilled, foreheads pressed together, adjusting, savoring the way he filled her.

Andre's jaw was clenched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to control himself. "You feel... oh, fuck... you feel so fucking tight... so wet... so hot!"

Catherine rocked her hips experimentally, biting her lip at the sensation that shot through her. Oh, God... it feels like he's trying to push through my cervix! "Good?" she gasped.

His answering groan was all the encouragement she needed. Catherine began to move, rising up before sliding back down, setting a slow, deep rhythm that caused her to shiver with pleasure. Andre's hands guided her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass as she took him deeper with each roll of her hips.

"Look at you," he rasped, his gaze raking over her body -- her flushed skin, her breasts swaying with each movement. "Riding me like you were made for it."

She arched, dragging her nails down his chest. "Maybe I was," she panted with a grin.

His hips jerked upward, driving into her harder, and she moaned, her pace faltering for a second before she found it again, faster now. The slap of skin against skin filled the hotel room, mingling with their ragged breaths as they drove towards the climax that was growing in the distance.

"Look at you," he breathed, lost in his own arousal and the sight of Catherine riding him. "You're so fucking gorgeous, Cat..."

The redheaded woman's pace quickened further in response, pleasure building deep inside her like a storm on the horizon. His grip on her tightened, guiding her, matching her thrusts with shallow lifts of his hips. The slap of skin on skin, their mingled gasps, the scent of sex and her perfume -- it was overwhelming, intoxicating. Perfect. Catherine's eyelids fluttered in excitement as the head of his cock dragged teasingly across her g-spot with every thrust. "Oh... Andre... uhhh... don't... don't stop..." she gasped loudly, uncaring if anyone in the rooms next door heard them.

Andre sat up suddenly, wrapping an arm around her waist to crush her against him, her large breasts flattened against his dark chest. His mouth found her nipple, sucking hard as he thrust up into her, the new angle hitting a spot that made her cry out. Oh, God... my cervix... she thought wildly, the sensation of pleasure and pain pushing her even closer to her climax.

"Yes -- right there, oh, God --"

He growled against her skin, his right hand sliding between them, his palm facing her, his black fingers circling her pink clit. "That's it... fucking come for me, Cat."

The dual stimulation by the Black man was too much for the redheaded woman. Pleasure crashed over her, her inner walls clenching around him as she shattered into a million pieces, her nails biting into his shoulders as she let out a low, inarticulate groan of pure pleasure.

The sudden tightness of her own body around him triggered his own release and Andre followed her over the edge with a grunt, his hips stuttering jerkily as he spilled his black seed deep inside her, the grip of his left hand on her hip bruising in its tightness as she continued to ride him through the aftershocks of her own orgasm. The sensation of him pulsing within her, filling her with his thick, hot, African seed, was so deeply intimate that Catherine nearly came again from the sheer intensity of it.

She collapsed against him, her forehead resting on his shoulder as they both struggled to catch their breath.

His lips brushed her temple. "Still alive?"

Catherine laughed weakly. "Maybe. Barely... I don't actually know..." she gasped.

He kissed her, slow and sweet, before easing her onto the mattress beside him. She curled into his side, her leg thrown over his, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.

Andre tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Still thinking of Harry?"

She smiled, her eyes drifting shut. "Who?"

His arm tightened around her, and for the first time in a long time, Catherine felt something she'd almost forgotten -- safe.

And, just maybe, a little bit loved.

*****

Catherine stood outside Andre's office, a confident smile on her face as she adjusted her blazer and took a deep breath. She hadn't been to Atlanta in several years and this was the first time she would be meeting him in his own world. It had been a few weeks since they had last seen each other in Miami, and she was curious to see him in his element. The door opened, and Andre's assistant, a young Black man with a friendly demeanor, nodded.

"Ms. Donovan, he's expecting you. Go right in."

"Thank you," Catherine said, stepping into the office.

Andre was standing by a set of floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of Atlanta's skyline. Late morning sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating the dark wood furniture and modern art that adorned the walls. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, a warm smile breaking across his face.

"Cat," he said, crossing the room to greet her. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit with subtle pinstripes, his shirt crisp and open at the collar.

"Andre," she replied, feeling the familiar flutter in her chest. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Never," he said. "You're the highlight of my day." His eyes sparkled with that teasing glint that always made her feel seen. "How was your flight this morning?"

She chuckled. "Up at 4 to get to the airport but only a one-hour delay at the airport this time... gave me some time to check emails at least," she said, letting her eyes roam the organized chaos of his desk.

Papers, open files, and a leather notebook filled with handwritten notes were scattered, hinting at the complexity of his work. "What are you working on?" she asked, nodding to the documents.

"Finalizing details for a new fund aimed at minority-owned start-ups. It's been a challenge, but one worth taking on." He moved behind his desk and glanced at her. "And you? How's your visit going so far?"

"Meetings, meetings, and more meetings, all morning," she said, rolling her eyes playfully. "I got out of them as soon as I could."

His smile widened. "I'm glad you did. How about a lunch break? There's a new bistro a few blocks down I've been meaning to try."

"Perfect," she agreed, feeling a subtle excitement build inside her chest.

*****

The nearby bistro was cozy, with warm lighting and a mix of modern and vintage décor. They sat by a window, the buzz of lunchtime conversations around them creating a comfortable background hum that allowed her to relax. Catherine leaned in as Andre described an amusing encounter with a potential investor who had mistaken him for a professional athlete.

"So, what did you say?" she asked, her laughter lighting up her blue eyes as she took a sip of her drink.

"I told him I'd consider a switch to basketball if he signed on the dotted line," Andre replied, smirking. "It worked, by the way."

"Of course it did," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "You're too charming for your own good."

"And yet, it's only with you that I'm truly at my best," he said with a grin, his eyes locked on hers.

She felt the warmth spread through her, and for a moment, the bustling world outside seemed to slow down. It never felt this way with Harry. It felt right. Get a grip, Cat, she told herself as she forced herself to focus on her food. You're acting like some lovesick schoolgirl.

"So, what's the latest drama at the tech firm?" Andre asked, a forkful of pasta suspended mid-air.

"Ugh, don't get me started! There's always something. I swear if I have to listen to another meeting about quarterly reports..." She rolled her blue eyes dramatically.

Andre chuckled. "I can't imagine how boring that must be. You'd think they'd want someone as dynamic as you to shake things up."

"I've tried! But it's like pushing a boulder uphill. I sometimes think about taking a leap into something new," she confessed, meeting his gaze.

"New like... my world?" He leaned closer, his voice low and inviting. She felt a magnetic pull towards him. Is he saying what I think he's saying?

"Maybe. I mean, your work sounds intriguing. I'd love to help people in that way," she said, contemplating the possibilities. A job... with him?

"Then let's make it happen. You'd be an asset. Plus, you'd have me as your boss, which has its perks," he said, winking.

"Is that so? I'm not sure I could handle being under your supervision," she teased back. "What would happen during team meetings?"

"Lots of flirting, I'm sure. Just imagine the gossip around the office," he said, grinning.

"Now that's a headline I'd like to see! 'Catherine and Andre: the Office Romance'," she quipped, leaning back in her chair. Could we do this, she wondered to herself? Could we really make this work?

*****

The AC hummed against the silence, goosebumps rising on Catherine's bare skin as she leaned against Andre's kitchen wall. The kitchen light carved shadows between his muscles as he rummaged through cabinets -- all six-foot-two of him gloriously, unselfconsciously naked. A wine stain darkened the countertop from where they'd knocked over her glass earlier. He hadn't seemed to mind at the time -- especially since she came hard a moment later, her pussy holding his cock in a death-grip.

She traced a finger along her collarbone, still damp from the exertion, from him. "I should be scandalized," she lied with a grin. "Looking at you like that. Instead, I'm just impressed you have energy to stand."

Andre snorted, pouring water with the precision of a man who hadn't just made her see stars. Three times. "Told you I do cardio for a reason." Ice cubes clinked in the glass as he turned towards her, his gaze dragging over her pink-flushed body like a physical touch. "Besides, you're one to talk. That thing you did with your --"

"-- And we're back to flirting." She finished as she accepted the glass, condensation slick between her fingers. "Thought we'd moved past that phase."

"Nah." His grin was pure trouble. And she loved it. "Flirting's how I learned you make this little noise when I --"

Catherine choked on her water.

He took the glass from her shaking hands, all mock innocence. "What? You started it. You said you just wanted to see the apartment --"

"And you didn't object..."

"Uh-huh." Andre stepped closer, heat radiating off him. "And the way you 'accidentally' unbuttoned your blouse..."

She swatted his chest. His laughter vibrated under her palm.

The playfulness faded as his thumb brushed her wrist. "Seriously though." His voice dropped. "What I said before was true. I want this. Us. Not just when you're in Atlanta for work."

Catherine's pulse stuttered as she studied the water rings on the counter. "My life's a mess, Andre. The divorce, Ascend Tech -- "

"So, we'll figure it out." He tipped her chin up, fixing her eyes with his. "I'm not Harry. I'm not like him."

The raw honesty in his eyes unraveled her.

She exhaled, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. His scent -- salt and that stupid expensive cologne of his that she loved so much -- filled her lungs. "If we do this," she murmured, "you're stuck with my trust issues. And my terrible coffee habit."

Andre's arms circled her waist. "I'll buy stock in Starbucks." His lips brushed her temple. "Say yes, Cat."

The word trembled on her tongue as she weighed the possibilities, the challenges, the opportunities.

"Yes," she said, clear as shattered glass.

His smile could've powered the city. "Good." He hauled her up, her legs locking around his hips as he carried her toward the bedroom. "Now let me show you what 'committed' looks like."

*****

The party was buzzing with laughter and music, a mix of familiar faces from Catherine's life. Her previous life, she reminded herself, the one where she was married to Harry. Now it felt strange to be here, as if it was dredging up memories of what had once been, what had happened to her marriage. It was more out of a sense of obligation to Mary that she had agreed to attend. The two women had bonded over a love of travel and trashy novels, while their husbands had bonded over golf.

It seems like a lifetime ago; she mused as she entered the room. Mary always threw a good party, and this one was no exception. The country club nestled in the hills outside San Francisco had previously been an oasis from work, now it felt oppressive and fake. She'd already greeted Mary and Paul on the way in, their smiles now seemingly too perfect as they had greeted her.

Catherine moved through the crowd, a glass of sparkling water in her hand, exchanging pleasantries with some old acquaintances and quick smiles, doing her best to hide her growing discomfort. The room seemed to dim a little when she noticed Harry across the room, leaning against a table with Tiffany, her hand protectively resting on her growing belly. Catherine's chest tightened, but she took a deep breath and pushed forward. Thirty minutes, she told herself. Just thirty minutes and then I'm out of here.

It wasn't long before Harry noticed her. His eyes narrowed, and he smirked, the slight glaze in his gaze betraying his inebriation. He pushed himself off the table and made his way over, swaying slightly as he approached. Christ, he's had a few, she sighed to herself.

"Well, if it isn't the formidable Catherine," Harry slurred, his words a touch too loud, even over the buzz of the crowd. His gaze drifted down to her black velvet dress, lingering for a moment too long on the neckline. "Nice dress. Attending the party alone, are we?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Harry," she replied coolly, holding her chin high, doing her best to dismiss her ex-husband.

He took a sip of his drink, eyes flicking up and down her elegant silhouette. "Touchy, are we? I'm just curious. It must be hard keeping up with work and... other pursuits, to have time to see anyone."

"Actually, I am seeing someone," Catherine replied, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. "His name is Andre."

Harry's smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Andre? Is that a French name or something?" He snorted derisively. "You sure know how to pick them, don't you Cat?"

Catherine felt her stomach churn at her ex-husband's words but held her ground. "Andre is African-American, Harry. And whether he's French or Black, you might want to keep your outdated assumptions to yourself."

The mention of Andre's race caught the attention of nearby guests, several of whom were African-American men. They exchanged curious glances, some shifting slightly closer to overhear the unfolding conversation.

Harry's expression morphed into one of mock amusement. "Wow, so you really went there, huh? A Black guy, huh? So, is it serious? What happens when you get pregnant? Are you going to have a Black baby or just adopt? I mean, imagine that. A little Black kid with your pure Irish-American heritage. What do you think it would look like? What do you think your family would say about that?"

Catherine felt her Irish blood boil at Harry's words, but she met his gaze with an unwavering resolve, her eyes burning into his. "You're such a racist, Harry. Andre is more of a man than you could ever hope to be. He's kind, respectful, and honest -- traits you clearly lack. My family would accept him, unlike your pathetic attempts at justification."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot with the stench of alcohol. "Are you seriously sleeping with a Black man? What's that like? Is he... well-endowed? I mean, come on, isn't that part of the appeal?"

Catherine's stomach churned, but she held her ground. "That's disgusting, Harry. You know nothing about him."

He waved her off, laughter spilling from his lips, loud and abrasive as several nearby guests looked on. "Come on, Cat. Don't act like you haven't thought about it. What happens when you get pregnant? Are you going to have a Black baby, or are you just going to adopt? I bet he stretches you out so much that no one else will ever want you again," he sneered drunkenly. "Hope you're still on the pill otherwise you might be left with a little Black baby?"

Despite his offensive words and attitude, Catherine smiled, a genuine smile. I can't understand what I ever saw in him, she realized to herself. "You know, it's none of your business what we do, but since you're interested, I've been letting Andre come inside me from the first time we had sex. I'm not making him wait like I did with you when we first started dating. It feels amazing -- way better than it ever did with you. It's warm and filling in a way that you could never manage. The way he makes me feel is something you wouldn't understand. Unlike you, he knows how to make me climax... really, really climax, and that's when you actually remembered to even try."

The tension in the room shifted as several guests listened in to the argument, their expressions a mix of shock and intrigue. Harry's face turned a deep shade of red, anger mingling with embarrassment. To hell with him, Catherine thought, now beyond caring if she made a scene.

Harry's jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening around his glass. "You think you're better off? You think he's going to take care of you? What will your family say if you end up with a little Black baby?"

Catherine tilted her head slightly, a confident glimmer in her eyes. "You have no idea what he's capable of, Harry. He's better than you in every way, including in bed. I actually enjoy being with him, unlike those nights with you where I just laid there waiting for it to be over."

With that, Catherine turned on her heel, her expression steely and composed, and walked away from the cluster of stunned guests, leaving Harry red-faced and sputtering behind her. As she passed Tiffany on the way out, she stopped and turned to her, her expression softening for a moment, but her words were laced with irony. "I wish you the best, truly. You'll need it," she said as she glanced back at Harry.

The silence in the room was heavy, punctuated by the low hum of music in the background. With that, Catherine turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the room buzzing with whispers, a sense of vindication following her out the door. They can all go to hell, she said determinedly to herself.

*****

Monday morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Catherine's office, casting a warm glow across the stacks of legal briefs and case files on her mahogany desk. She was deep into drafting an important contract when her phone buzzed, breaking her concentration. Who the fuck drafted this, she thought wearily as she reached for her phone. A smile spread across her lips when she saw Andre's name flash on the screen, making her feel better immediately.

With a quick breath, she picked up. "Good morning, stranger," she said, her voice light and teasing. She missed hearing his voice, even though it had only been a few days since they spoke.

"Morning, Cat. How's my favorite legal eagle doing?" Andre's deep, familiar voice sent a warm flutter through her. I wish he was here with me... or I was there with him, she thought to herself.

"Oh, you know, the usual -- wrangling contracts, chasing deadlines. How about you?"

"Same old," he replied. "But it's better now that I'm hearing your voice. I wanted to check in, see how your weekend went. I know you had that party to go to."

Catherine leaned back in her chair, a mix of emotions crossing her face. "Oh, the party," she said, rolling her eyes with a sigh. "It was... eventful, to say the least."

Andre noticed the tension in her tone. "Eventful? What happened?"

She sighed again; the memory of Saturday still fresh in her mind. "Harry was there, along with Tiffany. He had way too much to drink and decided it was the perfect time to confront me," she admitted.

Andre's voice sharpened with concern. "Oh? What did he say to you?"

"He was his usual charming, drunk self," she said sarcastically. "He asked if I was seeing anyone and when I mentioned you, he made some pretty offensive comments." She paused. "He asked if our kids would come out Black or Irish." The words tasted like battery acid, vile and distasteful.

The line went quiet, and Catherine realised he was biting back his anger. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously calm. "Tell me you quoted my LSAT scores at him."

"Better." She smirked as she spoke into the phone. "I told him you fuck me raw every night."

Andre's choked cough brought a grin to Catherine face "Jesus, Cat."

"What? He started the dick-measuring contest." She doodled a crude stick figure pushing another off a cliff on a page of last quarter's financial report before scribbling it out. "Anyway, Tiffany looked ready to drown herself in the punch bowl."

There was a short laugh from Andre through the phone before he went quiet again. Finally, he said, "You know, Cat, I've been thinking. This thing between us... I don't want it to be just a few phone calls and weekend visits."

Her heart skipped a beat. "What are you saying?" she asked, though she suspected she already knew. Since the visit to Atlanta, she'd been thinking about it too.

"I'm saying I want us to make this official. I know it won't be easy with the distance, but I'm willing to try if you are."

Catherine felt a rare sensation of excitement and hope. "I'd like that, Andre. I really would."

"Good," he said, relief and joy evident in his voice. "I'll fly out to San Francisco next week. We can talk more and figure things out from there."

"I'll hold you to that," she said, her smile audible.

"Deal. Now, get those contracts sorted. I want you stress-free when I see you."

She laughed. Relaxed and genuine. "Yes, sir."

They exchanged goodbyes, and as Catherine ended the call, she sat back, letting the contentment wash over her. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was on the brink of something new and wonderful.

*****

The soft murmur of the gathered guests quieted as the large, heavy wooden doors of the church slowly swung open with a loud creak. Catherine stood at the entrance, her heart pounding as she took in the sight before her, their friends and family gathered together. The church was breathtaking, with light streaming through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers, and she could feel the collective anticipation of the room as they waited for her to make her way down the aisle.

Her father, Richard, the retired Air Force colonel, stood proudly at her side, offering his arm. Dressed in a fitted tuxedo, his weathered face softened with emotion as he looked at her. "You ready, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice thick with pride. He hadn't even smiled like that when she married Harry or graduated from Harvard.

Catherine glanced up at him, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and smiled. "It's taken me forty years to get here, Dad. I've never been more ready," she whispered.

As they took the first step down the aisle, Catherine's thoughts drifted back to the whirlwind that had been the past year. It had been a year of profound change and deepening love, a year where every decision, every shared moment with Andre had brought them closer. She remembered the long conversations they'd had about her leaving the tech firm, the excitement, and nerves of relocating to Atlanta, the new position at his firm where she found herself more fulfilled than she ever thought possible.

Their holidays together had been a blur of laughter and adventure, each trip revealing more layers of the man she had grown to love deeply and passionately. The memory of his proposal still brought a smile to her lips -- the snow-capped peaks of the Alps as the backdrop, the way he had knelt down on one knee after a day of skiing, the sincerity and love in his eyes when he asked her to be his wife. She had cried then, overcome with happiness, just as she felt the tears threaten to spill now.

As they reached the end of the aisle, Catherine's gaze locked with Andre's. He stood tall, his dark suit perfectly tailored to his athletic frame. The silver cufflinks glinted in the light, but what drew her in were his eyes. That same deep, soulful look of love and devotion was reflected back at her. His hand extended toward her, and she saw the watch on his wrist -- an Ademar's Piguet Royal Oak, sleek and elegant. It had been her wedding gift to him, something that symbolized both time and commitment, crafted with precision and passion, much like their love.

She felt her father gently squeeze her hand before he placed it into Andre's. Andre's grip was warm, strong, and as he pulled her closer, she could feel her heart swell with love. This felt perfect, like a piece of her life that had been missing, but had now been found.

"You look like a dream, Cat," Andre whispered softly, lifting her veil. His eyes scanned her face, taking in the delicate makeup, the glowing porcelain of her skin, and the way her red hair was intricately styled in soft waves, cascading down her back.

Catherine's smile widened. "I feel like one, standing here with you."

The pastor began to speak, but Catherine's mind drifted for a brief moment. She remembered the night before, the quiet anticipation of what was to come -- not just the wedding, but everything after. Their life together. But not just their own two lives.

She had handed Andre the small plastic strip, her hands trembling slightly as she watched him process what the two faint lines meant. His expression had been a mix of shock, joy, and wonder, before he had wrapped her in his arms, kissing her deeply. "You're going to be an amazing mother, Cat," he had whispered then, his hand resting protectively on her stomach.

Now, as she stood with him, on the verge of becoming husband and wife, the memory of that moment filled her with quiet contentment. The future seemed so full, so bright. Unlike her past.

The pastor's voice cut through her thoughts. "Do you, Andre, take Catherine to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for as long as you both shall live?"

Andre's dark-brown eyes never left her blue ones. "I do," he said firmly, his voice steady and full of promise. She had said those words before when she married Harry. But this time, it felt right. She knew then and there that Andre would be her rock; the person she could depend on for the rest of her life.

"And do you, Catherine, take Andre to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for as long as you both shall live?"

Catherine felt the weight of the moment, the gravity of the vows she was about to speak, but also the absolute certainty in her heart. "I do," she said, her voice soft but resolute.

The rings were exchanged, the delicate band sliding onto her finger, a symbol of their unbreakable bond that they had forged together over the past year. Then, as the pastor declared them husband and wife, Andre pulled her in close, lifting her chin with a hand. His lips brushed hers in a tender, loving kiss, but before pulling away, he whispered against her mouth, "I love you, Cat. More than anything."

Her heart fluttered, and she whispered back, "I love you, too."

The guests erupted in applause as they turned to face the crowd, now officially husband and wife. As they walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, Catherine felt a deep sense of joy and peace wash over her. This was her life now -- with Andre, and soon, with their child. Everything felt perfect.

Later that evening, after the celebrations had wound down and the guests had gone, they found a quiet moment together. Andre sat beside her, their fingers entwined as they watched the stars through the window of their hotel suite.

"Do you think we're ready for all of this?" Catherine asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Marriage, a baby at forty... everything?"

Andre turned to her, his expression soft and full of love. "There's no one else I'd rather face it all with. We'll figure it out together, one step at a time."

Catherine smiled, her heart feeling light. She rested her hand on her stomach, thinking of the tiny life growing inside her. "I'm glad it's with you, Andre."

He kissed the top of her head. "And I with you, Cat."