The Appraisal
Brielle Montgomery
www.urbanbooks.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Epigraph
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Urban Books, LLC
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Farmingdale, NY 11735
The Appraisal Copyright © 2021 Brielle Montgomery
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6455-6228-3
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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The difference between school and life? In school, you’re taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you’re given a test that teaches you a lesson.
~ Tom Bodett
CHAPTER ONE
Some men were just too damn easy, it was almost pathetic.
Jayla licked her lips as she watched him approach her. She had to admit, though, he was much better looking than his fiancée had described. She watched his thick lips curl in an approving smile as his fingers stroked the smooth cut of his goatee. Hershey’s chocolate skin, muscles rippling through the black T-shirt, and a wide, confident walk, like his dick was too damn big for his jeans. She would be the judge of that soon enough.
“Excuse me,” he said when he reached her side. “I don’t mean to bother you, but you are damn sure the finest woman in this bar tonight.”
She returned his smile with a seductive one of her own. He probably wouldn’t feel that way if he knew his fiancée, Tracy, was shadowed in the DJ booth. Jayla could almost feel her calculating eyes watching their every move.
Jayla crossed her legs, allowing the slit of the fire-red dress to inch up. As if on cue, his eyes dipped to the exposed area of her caramel thigh, and she felt her pussy heat up in response. She ran her manicured fingers through the black tresses of her wig. “Thank you,” she said. “And you are?”
“Marcus.”
Bold one to use his real name, Jayla thought as she took a sip from her drink.
“And you are?” he prompted when she intentionally made no move to speak again.
Jayla winked. “Very interested in you, Marcus,” she said.
“Is that so?”
“You’re damn right,” she said, standing. Her titties were nearly spilling out of the low V-shaped neckline of her dress, and she boldly pressed them against his solid chest. The gesture made her nipples harden between them. She leaned up until her cheek grazed his, her lips a whisper from his ear.
“I would absolutely love to dance with you,” she said and slowly licked her lips, making sure the tip of her tongue touched his earlobe in the process. Not bothering to wait for his response, she slid past him and made her way to the dance floor.
The slow reggae mix had a collection of slick bodies grinding and swaying in the multicolored glow of the strobe lights. Jayla maneuvered through the crowd. The mixture of musk, perfume, and alcohol was so thick it was nearly edible. She felt Marcus’s arm circle her waist and pull her body to his. She pressed her back against him, leaned her head on his shoulder, and began rocking her hypnotic hips to the beat.
She let her body take over, gyrating her ass against him until the prominent bulge in his pants tightened. When he placed his hands on her waist, she put her hands on top of his and gripped his fingers. Slowly, she guided them up to cup her titties and heard his muffled moan against her hair.
He used his thumbs to massage her nipples until it seemed they might pierce the satin material. He began to thrust his hips forward against her ass, his dick straining against the thick material of his pants. Jayla wiggled against him and was pleased when she saw that his eyes had drifted closed. A look of sheer pleasure had taken over his face, and his mouth was hanging slightly open. He was good and ready. And judging by the heated moisture that had dampened the crotch of her thong, so was she.
Tracy had made the instructions clear in the contract—take him as far as he would allow. Hopefully, he knew how to put it down, so she could at least get some satisfaction.
“I hope I’m not being too forward,” she whispered, a combination of liquor and practice giving her voice a sexual rasp. “But I’ve got a case of Coronas in my fridge that I would hate to see go to waste. Why don’t you follow me home so I can . . . give it to you, Marcus?”
“I would hate to waste good beer,” he said.
Jayla took his hand and headed toward the door.
This part was always difficult for the women to watch. She’d even had one client storm up to her on her way out with a man, and the combination of sobs, curses, and a strong Spanish accent had rendered the woman completely incomprehensible. If this one interfered, Jayla would politely back off, as agreed. Her clients were always made aware up front that even if they stopped the evaluation before it was completed, the payment was the same.
As soon as they stepped outside, she opened her mouth to speak and gasped when he dragged her toward him. She didn’t have time to process her reaction before his other hand grabbed the back of her neck and then he crushed his lips against hers.
She tasted the lingering Corona on his tongue, felt the urgency in the kiss as his hand lowered to squeeze her ass. He seemed to be trying to mesh their bodies together, his package taut against her leg. She flicked her tongue on the roof of his mouth before taking a step back.
“Soon,” she said. She then turned on her heel and headed to her SUV. He was at her side in two strides, and Jayla gasped when he grabbed her arm again and whirled her around to face him once more.
“Can’t wait,” he said, his voice thick. He took her hand and placed it on his dick. “You feel this shit? I need your ass now.”
Jayla bit her lip, pretending to consider the proposition. Luckily, she had the tape recorder already rolling in the truck.
She had to admit, Tracy’s request for a tape recording was strange, but she would oblige. Some clients just needed hard evidence. As if it would make a difference.
“I’m parked over here.” She tipped her head toward the darkened SUV, the crisp black paint and the tinted windows glistening in the moonlight.
Jayla hadn’t even completely closed the door to the back seat when Marcus attacked her body. She bit back a curse when she heard the rip of satin, then winced when she felt the sudden bite of air on her exposed skin. The hair on
his face scratched her breasts as he devoured them. He polished her nipples, flicking his tongue, licking, and sucking until they were hard and nearly dripping wet.
“Yes, please fuck me, Marcus.” Her words came out in an anxious breath. She scooted to lie back on the chilled leather, then spread her knees to welcome him. Her panties were already stained with her pre-juices as she rubbed them against her pussy lips. She nudged the flimsy material to the side and stroked her swelling clit, giggling to herself when she saw his eyes dancing in anticipation.
“Oh yeah, baby, I’m gone fuck the shit outa you.” His breath came out jagged and rough as he fumbled with his pants.
Jayla dipped her fingers inside her sugar walls and allowed her nectar to spill onto them. As he watched, she lifted her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. “Baby, don’t you want to sample it first?” she teased.
He nodded and dove in, his tongue thrashing over her clit. His slurping noises echoed in the car as he put his lips to her hole and attempted to fuck her with his tongue.
Jayla frowned, swallowing her disappointment. His tongue was the size of his hand, but he damn sure didn’t know how to work it. It was much too wild and messy for her. But oh well. It wasn’t like he was her man. So, she moaned and ground against his mouth, like he was eating her to kingdom come.
“Yes, yes,” she whispered, exaggerating, as she allowed her flavor to coat his taste buds. “Eat that shit, Marcus. Eat your pussy, baby.”
When she faked her orgasm, he sat up and pulled his dick from his boxers. Jayla took the condom from him and, with the fingers of an expert, ripped open the package. The sound of the crinkling latex had her smiling as the material stretched over his erection. No, size was not an issue at all. After swinging her leg over his lap to straddle his waist, she lowered herself slowly to savor each generous inch and watched the rapid succession of emotions play on his face.
She started slow, clenching and releasing her pussy muscles in a massaging technique and moaning, as if his size was unbearable. She leaned over so her body rested on his and felt his desperate clutch to keep her in position.
A thick heat had permeated the inside of the car, causing the windows to fog up. She tasted the faint hint of sweat as she licked his neck. When his eyes rolled back, she quickened her pace and bounced her ass even harder. She felt the throbbing of his dick as he braced himself for the anticipated orgasm.
“Oh shit!” he all but yelled as he came, lifting his body from the seat with the force of his release.
He sighed as Jayla slowed to a stop, laughing to herself. Was that all? she thought. Damn! That was a quick ten thousand dollars.
She didn’t even bother lingering. Just lifted off him and moved to settle on the seat beside him. She blew out a breath, feeling the first beads of sweat dot her forehead under the synthetic hair of the wig. Now to get him out of the SUV without all that extra shit.
“Damn, girl,” he said, eyeing the filled condom. “You got some good stuff.”
Jayla smiled as she smoothed her dress back into place. He had ripped it on the side, and the hole in the fabric did little to cover her plump breasts. She sighed, already knowing she and Tara would have to get back out to the mall so she could get another. It was one of her favorites.
“You were great, Marcus,” she said, sneaking a glance at the digital clock on her dashboard. “I definitely needed that.”
The ego stroke had him grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Anytime. You keep giving me that ass like you just did, I’m all yours.”
Jayla watched him slide the condom off and fold it back into the wrapper. “You got a girlfriend, Marcus?” she asked.
Silence.
He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, as if pretending to be totally engrossed in the act of pulling up his pants. He mumbled something to the effect of “Not really,” and this had Jayla rolling her eyes. Of course not. He had a fiancée, which was even worse. The wedding was in two weeks, but of course, she wasn’t supposed to know that. A dog, through and through.
“I got someone I’m talking to,” he went on. “But she don’t mean nothing. She definitely ain’t as fine as you.” He leaned in and used his index finger to trace her lips. “Besides, I would rather get to know you better.”
Jayla nodded and reached toward the front seat, grabbed the pen and scratch paper she had placed in the cup holder. She scribbled a fake number on the paper before kissing it and handing it to him.
“Call me,” she whispered.
He planted another kiss on her lips before opening the door. “Most definitely,” he said. “I think I’m in love.” He laughed at his own joke before climbing out of the SUV and shutting the door.
Jayla released a disgusted breath. The trifling bastard didn’t even know her name. Pa-fucking-thetic. Tracy would be lucky to get rid of him. If she got rid of him.
Jayla climbed into the driver’s seat. She reached under the steering wheel and stopped the recorder. She knew it was a case of if because the woman seemed desperate, naive, and downright dumb enough to stay with the man even when she knew the truth. Jayla figured the evidence she had collected wouldn’t matter one bit.
The sudden banging on her passenger window had Jayla screaming. She squinted through the tinted glass and let out an aggravated sigh when she recognized Tracy’s tight-lipped frown, brooding hazel eyes, and inches of weave hiked into a hasty ponytail. What the hell?
Before Jayla could lock the doors, Tracy slid into the front seat, and Jayla looked toward the back when she heard another door open. Tracy’s sister, Lauren, jumped in, looking pissed, and frowned at the wet stains on the leather seats.
“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Panic had Jayla shouting the question as she snatched her wig off, letting her mane of auburn hair spring free.
Tracy sniffed the air and frowned at the distinct odor. “So, I guess you fucked him, huh?”
“Hell yeah, they fucked!” Lauren’s voice was laced with a bitter angriness. “Can’t you tell? Shit, it smells like nothing but ass in this car. I told you that nigga wasn’t shit, Tracy.”
Unsatisfied, Tracy stared at Jayla, her eyes tight with hurt and restrained anger of her own. “Did you fuck him?”
“What the hell do you think?” Jayla snapped, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t that what you paid me to do? Fuck him? Or have you forgotten our little contract?”
“Tracy, let’s beat this nasty bitch,” Lauren yelled.
“Beat me? For what?” Jayla looked from Lauren, who was bouncing on the edge of her seat in anticipation, to Tracy, who just sat eyeing her in silence. “I just saved you from making a big-ass mistake by showing you what kind of lying sack of shit you were about to marry. I just proved your nigga ain’t shit, so what the fuck you questioning me for? Y’all need to be thanking me.”
Silence.
Jayla smirked as Tracy sat hunched in the seat like a whipped puppy. She was almost as pathetic as her man. “I don’t know why you’re pissed,” Jayla went on. “He can’t fuck or eat pussy, so y’all lucky I’m not charging extra for wasting my damn time.”
Tracy’s slap carried enough force to throw Jayla backward. She winced, partially from the stinging of her cheek and partially from the impact of her arm as it slammed against the door. Fuming, Jayla lunged toward Tracy, prepared to fight Lauren off and punch them both through the damn window. She stopped short when Tracy burst into hysterical sobs.
“I’m sorry.” Tracy buried her face in her hands. “I just can’t believe he did this to me. I loved that bastard.”
Jayla pursed her lips, still seething from the slap. It was time for these crazy bitches to leave. She snatched the recorder from under the steering wheel and dropped it on the seat beside Tracy. “Consider this my final report,” she said. “Give me my damn money and get the fuck outa my car.”
Tracy’s face was tear stricken as she gazed at the tape recorder. She sighed. “Lauren, give her the money and let’s go.”
&n
bsp; Lauren smacked her lips and pulled an envelope from her Coach purse. “Take it, then, you trashy bitch,” she said as she snatched the crisp bills from the envelope and threw them in Jayla’s face. Money rained down to pool in Jayla’s lap and litter the floor. “And we better not see your ass on the street, or we gone fuck you up. Believe that, you skanky bitch.” Lauren got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.
Tracy glared at Jayla as she grabbed the recorder. “I hope it was worth it for you.” She had lowered her voice and sounded almost sinister. Then she stared a moment or two longer.
Jayla narrowed her eyes. Fear was beginning to inch its way up her spine. “Get away from me,” she whispered through clenched teeth.
Without another word, Tracy climbed from the SUV and shut the door.
Jayla waited until both sisters had crossed the parking lot before she let out a staggered breath of relief. She looked in the rearview mirror and saw her heavy eye makeup had begun to smear and her cheek had colored to a light red from the hit. Jayla rolled her eyes. She could almost bank on the fact that even after all the theatrics, Tracy would still probably say, “I do,” and become Mrs. Marcus Harris.
Oh well. She had done her job and gotten paid for it. Everything afterward had nothing to do with her. The money was getting so good, she considered hiring herself an accountant to help her hide it. Money was good, life was good, and Jayla loved how shit was always in her favor.
CHAPTER TWO
“You’re such a bitch!” Despite the drunken stupor and anger that had the slurred voice raised, Jayla easily recognized Yolanda, another satisfied but unsatisfied client.
Jayla grimaced as her feet pounded the treadmill, harmonizing with the breath coming from her parted lips and roaring in her ears. She’d gone without headphones this time, and now, with only two minutes left on her run, she didn’t bother to break stride as the words on her voicemail pierced the air.
The Appraisal Page 1