Her Pleasure

by Niobia Bryant

  Graham clenched his square jaw and licked at her back. He held her up with his body and used his now free hands to grab each of hers to bring up over her head. When she began to circle her hips, causing her pussy to tightly slide up and down his tool, he cried out roughly. He loved her freedom of inhibitions.

  She bit her bottom lip and smiled, remembering so well how she loved the effect she had on him. With a look over her shoulder, she saw his head was back and his mouth was open wide. Every muscle in his body was strained. She went still. He looked at her. His eyes were wild and dazed with pleasure. She returned his stare as she worked her pussy muscles to squeeze and release his hardness.

  Graham folded their entwined left hands against the door and released her right hand to press his own down between her body and the wood. His fingers sought and found her clit.

  Jaime’s body went tight when he worked the swollen and damp flesh as he delivered hard thrusts up inside her. Again. And again. And again. “Damn,” she swore, pressing her eyes closed tightly as she lightly tapped her forehead against the door.

  The combination of his deep thrusts, his hand holding one of hers in slight bondage and the other stroking her clit was driving her mad. Would his sudden reappearance, their clash, and now their explosive sex drive her fully out of her mind? She wasn’t sure.

  His thrust came on fast, furious, slick, and deep.

  Against her back, she felt his heart pounding. His sweat dampened her. His moans and grunts echoed in her ear. And she knew before she felt his inches stiffen inside her that he was going to come and that brought on her climax.

  With a cry that echoed around them and seemed to rise from deep within her, Jaime’s head fell back against his broad shoulder when explosive, white-hot spasms took her over, as she cried to God to save her from the torture of this pleasure.

  His roar mingled with her cries. His thrusts slowed with each rough grunt. His body was stiff and his grip on her hand and clit was firm as he enjoyed his own waves. “Jaime. Jaime. Jaime,” he groaned into her ear between jagged breaths.

  She licked at her parched lips and took deep breaths as she fought to hold on to her sanity. Raising her head, with her eyes open, she looked out at the beach blending into the edges of the turquoise water of beautiful Grenada. A treat. But nothing to rival what just happened between—.

  Jaime went stiff from panic and not pleasure. “No, no, no,” she whispered with a hard wince as she finally thought of Luc.

  What have I done?

  “Let me down. Let me down. Letmedown. Letmedown,” she said, pushing back against Graham to put distance between their bodies and to break the fiery organic connection between them.

  “What?” Graham asked, sliding his spent inches from inside her as he set her on her feet and stepped back.

  Still feeling the effect of her climax, she stumbled a bit on her feet.

  Graham reached to steady her.

  “No!” she roared, panicked as she avoided his touch.

  Graham withdrew his hand and eyed her oddly.

  What have I done?

  Passion was dominated by remorse.

  “I have to go,” she said, bending to pick up her bikini bottom and sheer coverup pants to clumsily slide on without a bit of grace.

  “Jaime, talk to me,” Graham implored, picking up both her shoes to hand her.

  She snatched them away from him, shaking her head as she fought back the tears rising like a morning tide. She rushed into her shoes before turning to snatch the door open.

  “Jaime.”

  She paused and closed her eyes as she inhaled the smell of the ocean.

  He did nothing wrong. I did.

  “This was a mistake,” Jaime said softly, not looking back as one tear raced down her cheek.

  “Jaime—”

  “Goodbye, Graham,” Jaime said, adding firmness to her tone before she closed the door and raced away from the site of her betrayal.

  Chapter 3

  “Money!”

  With his shooting arm still raised, Luc watched the basketball from his spot on the three-point line of his court as it sailed through the net with a swoosh. He looked over to his assistant, Kendell, and smiled broadly. “Like I said... money,” he said, holding up his hands to catch the ball Kendell lobbed at him. “You got the vid?”

  The twenty-something man, fresh out of college and looking to earn his break into the music industry, nodded as he moved his thumbs over the keyboard of his phone. “Just sent it,” he said, his raspy voice lending him more to an artist than a hopeful future music executive.

  Luc stuffed the ball under his arm while he posted the vid to his Instagram before sliding the device into the back pocket of the oversized shorts he wore sans shirt.

  “Time to go, Luc,” Kendell said, reminding him of the upcoming call time for the Summer Jam rehearsal.

  One of his artists was performing for the annual concert hosted by one of the top radio stations in New York. He liked to have the personal touch for his small, carefully curated roster of artists. If he could be on-site for any of their performances, studio sessions, and photo/video shoots then he made it happen. His dreams to conquer the music industry deserved nothing less.

  From his days growing up in Brooklyn with hip-hop narrating his life while he struggled like hell with a drug-addicted mother and father in prison, to working his way through college where hungry days had been the cost for his Bachelor’s in Communication, and then using money left from an insurance policy after the death of his beloved grandfather to open a small music studio, Luc had a love affair with music that would not be denied. His ear for good music and eye for a star was unequaled and five years ago those innate skills landed him an artist and repertoire position at one of the “Big Six” major record labels. He loved his work as an A&R exec, but his recent talks about acquiring his own label would be the beginning of his empire if he could get the deal done. Ten years from working as an unpaid intern to even being considered to run his own label was huge.

  With one last shot of the ball, Luc turned and walked beside his assistant to leave the sports center of the Midtown West apartment building where he called his three-bedroom condo on the sixtieth-floor home. His smaller condos in Atlanta and Los Angeles were more for business. New York would always be home base.

  “You changing?” Kendell asked as they stepped onto the glass-enclosed elevator.

  Luc looked at his reflection in the glass, leaning in to smooth his hand over his neck as he took in the plain V-neck tee and red-and-white shorts he wore with Jordans. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his phone back out to check Jaime’s Instagram. “When I leave there, I have a meeting at the label and then dinner—”

  “At Jue Lan’s,” Kendell provided.

  He frowned a little. Jaime hadn’t posted all day. She was an Instagram junkie and a luxurious vacation in the Caribbean was the right locale to overshare.

  Is she okay?

  He felt so protective of her, especially with her out of the country. He didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to her—especially on a trip he orchestrated to spoil her the way she deserved.

  Maybe she was too busy loving life to focus on posting about it.

  The elevator slowed to a stop.

  “Hi, neighbor. How are you doing?”

  But she didn’t call me this morning either . . .

  Luc’s heart beat a little faster in concern as he pulled up Jaime’s contact info. A photo of her filled the screen. She was in a beautiful strapless gold gown and swamped by his tailored tuxedo jacket after they left a charity dinner at Cipriani’s for a foundation of music executives raising money for cancer research. It had been their first date and they had clicked right away. He smiled at the memory of the night.

  “Luc,” Kendell said, gently nudging his elbow.

  He looked over at him. “What?”

  “The young lady spoke to you,” his assistant explained.

  What young lady?

&
nbsp; “Me,” a feminine voice said as if reading his thoughts—or maybe just his facial expression.

  He looked to his left. A pretty woman with wide eyes and a pouty mouth stood beside him. He recognized her from around the building. Clothing clinging to reality-defying body parts made her hard to miss, but he was avoiding catching the obvious vibes she was always throwing him when they briefly encountered each other.

  “How you doin’?” he asked politely.

  She smiled. “You tell me,” she replied, turning this way and that in the white strapless jumpsuit she wore with heels.

  He fought not to wince.

  Miss Too Much.

  It was all too obvious, and she was too done up for it to feel real. The long hair, makeup, boobs and hips, tight clothes, and wide-eyed blinks with super long lashes was too much. Pretty? Yes. Sexy? Of course. Regardless, the very last thing he was looking for was another woman in his life—side or main. Jaime Pine was more than enough.

  “You have a good day,” Luc said with cool cordiality, turning his back on her before calling his woman via FaceTime.

  “Savage,” Kendell said softly in awe with a shake of his head.

  The call went straight to voice mail. He frowned deeply as he checked his gold watch. It was close to one in the afternoon. He called again. Same result. He’d just feel better hearing her voice or seeing her face.

  Was her phone dead? Out of good range?

  The elevator slowed to a stop.

  “Everything okay?” Kendell asked as they stepped off onto the sixtieth floor.

  “I hope so,” Luc said, gripping his phone tightly enough to snap it.

  * * *

  Guilt was heavy.

  Jaime felt the weight of it profoundly. Not even the hours that had passed since she had sex with her ex had lessened her culpability. Not one bit.

  “Shit,” she swore as she closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her fingers as she drew her knees to her chest where she sat in the middle of her bed covered by nothing but a towel. The long and hot shower she took as soon as she entered her room that morning did nothing to erase the memory of Graham and what they had shared. She was soiled by guilt and nothing could wash that away.

  Luc did not deserve what she’d done.

  With an ex she had not seen in years.

  With no protection.

  Without care to how much her betrayal would hurt Luc.

  She set her head down upon her knees and set free the tears she held back. Silently. Painfully. Her regret was palpable.

  I love him. I adore him. Luc is amazing.

  “Why did I do it?” she asked herself softly as she raised her head to look out the open doors of the terrace at the beach.

  Because Graham wasn’t out of my system.

  That truth settled and lowered her shoulders more.

  “Hey, you.”

  Jaime looked over at the door of the room at Renee leaning in the frame and not quite sure how long she had been there. She used the sides of her hands to erase her tears, wishing she could handle her guilt and remorse in the same manner.

  “Everything okay?” Renee asked, walking into the room in a turquoise woven cotton sundress with her phone in hand.

  No.

  “Yeah,” Jaime lied, giving her a waning smile.

  “Luc called,” Renee said, holding up her phone. “He was worried that your phone was going straight to voice mail.”

  Jaime’s stomach felt stung by acid. She knew the stress of her guilt would cause an ulcer at that rate. “I’ll call him in a little bit,” she said, not wanting to at all.

  She already cheated and now she would have to lie.

  “I told him you were sleeping off a late-night drinking session.”

  Jaime looked into Renee’s eyes and saw concerns and questions, but she had no truth for her friend. As badly as she wanted to reveal her dalliance, the last thing she needed was to be lambasted for cheating—and in particular, cheating with Graham. For Renee and Aria, he would always be Pleasure the manwhore.

  They weren’t concerned, believing, or understanding of his redemption.

  For years, the thought of Jessa’s lie about sleeping with Graham had tortured her. Discovering it wasn’t true had been such relief. But why had she cared so much?

  Still?

  She was over Graham Walker.

  Or so she thought.

  “Fuck,” she swore again.

  That was the problem.

  A hot and dirty fuck.

  She looked at her phone at the foot of the bed. Charmaine, their concierge, had brought it to their suite saying someone was kind enough to turn it in at the front desk. “Someone my ass,” she muttered, reaching to pick up the device.

  It was powered off but not dead, and she didn’t doubt that it was Graham who did it as soon as he found it during the aftermath. He hadn’t been the type to snoop or invade privacy and she doubted that had changed.

  And I shouldn’t have doubted him when Jessa lied.

  More guilt.

  “Aria and I thought we’d all do that sightseeing tour and really take in Grenada,” Renee said, moving over to the bed to pick up Jaime’s phone and plug it into the charger near the lounge chair.

  Soon it will ring, and I will have to look Luc in the face and lie or break his heart and tell him the truth.

  “You game?” Renee asked.

  Jaime eyed her as she moved over to look out the open patio doors. “You’re mighty energetic after that workout you had early this morning,” she said, running her hands through her hair.

  Renee smiled. “He must have blessed me with the spirit of his youth,” she said.

  “I think it was more than just his spirit,” Jaime drawled.

  “It was just sex. No big deal. Right?”

  Wrong. So very wrong. There was no such thing as “just” sex.

  Jaime’s eyes shot to her phone when the apple icon filled the screen as it was powered on. “Did Luc say anything else?” she asked.

  Renee glanced back over her shoulder. “Something about a rehearsal and he’d call you back later tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  Good. That gave me time.

  To do what exactly?

  Aria sailed into the room in a white tank and floor-length cotton skirt with a bright print pattern. “Hey, Jaime. Where’d you go this morning?” she asked, as she plopped down onto the end of the bed.

  Heaven and hell.

  “I walked around the resort,” Jaime said.

  And cheated on Luc.

  “How was it?” Aria asked as she smoothed her hair up into its curly topknot.

  A vision of Graham holding her body against the door as he tasted her core flashed. “Amazing,” she said softly and honestly as her clit throbbed to life at the memory.

  * * *

  Silence was normally his refuge.

  In the few days since he made love to Jaime, it had failed him. Just as much as he had failed himself. “Shit,” he swore, turning off the steam before leaving the glass-enclosed shower, nude and wet.

  He didn’t bother to dry off as he stood before the mirror over the marble bathroom double sink and snatched off the cap protecting the dreads he’d been growing since he was just twenty. With a deep breath, he studied himself. It’d taken him a long time to look at himself—really look at himself—and like what he saw. For so long he’d used his appearance, tall athletic frame and big dick, to run through women. Their attention fed his ego, wet his dick, and made him a lot of money as first a stripper then a high-class escort.

  It took therapy to realize all of it was him trying to prove his masculinity after reckoning with his childhood abuse.

  “I was violated by an older boy when I was six,” he said, his eyes on his reflection as the carefully guided advice of his therapist played out in his head.

  “Release it so that it doesn’t control you.”

  There was a time when he didn’t even allow himself to thi
nk about it. He even let that haunting memory turn him against attending church—in particular, the one where he was fondled in a closet by Lionel.

  Graham tensed. He rolled his shoulders and gritted his teeth. That one act had peppered his life. Still did.

  Even his relationship with Jaime.

  Seeing her today had brought back all the old feelings he had for her and made him feel young again. Being buried deep inside of her—thrust after thrust—and seeing the same spark he brought to her eyes had enlivened him. He’d been with plenty of women—more than he was proud to admit—but no other woman made him feel like Jaime did. Today proved no woman probably ever would.

  To be with her he had said “Fuck it” and thrown away years of celibacy as a part of controlling his sexual addiction. It seems, with Jaime as the lure, he was better suited to fight his year-long cocaine addiction of the past and not his sexual one. He still remembered the exact moment he lost the will to cling to his abstinence . . .

  “The very sight of you makes me want to throw it all away,” he whispered to her as he looked down at her. Feasted on her beauty. Lost in her allure.

  And then she looked up at him, and in her eyes, he saw the same desire he felt. Wild. Unable to be bridled.

  And with one final shake of his head, Graham slid his arm around her waist and pulled her body in front of his before he buried his face against her neck. “Jaime. Jaime. Jaime,” he moaned against her skin.

  Everything after that was a blur of heat and passion.

  He had sworn he would not have sex again without being in a long-term relationship. No more one-night stands where the head of his dick reigned over the head on his neck. He’d lost control. For that, he was disappointed in himself.

  But Jaime was no stranger. He once loved her deeply. The only woman he had ever given his heart. And she still owned a huge piece of it. And seeing her again—having her body again—had opened up the door he’d closed on his feelings for her. Now it ached.

  Will I ever get over her?

  “Jaime damn Pine,” he muttered with a shake of his head and yet another clench of his jaw.