After Mackenzie’s mouth was swabbed, Nivea sat across from Brackman, rocking her fretful daughter in her arms.
Brackman double-checked the pages with her signature and then told her he’d send copies after Dr. and Mrs. Sandburg had both countersigned. Finally, he slid the check across the desk, placing it directly in front of Nivea.
Nivea snatched it up before he could think of another reason to delay handing over the money. With the check tucked inside a Gucci handbag from last year, Nivea floated out of the lawyer’s office, imagining all the handbags, shoes, and clothes she could buy from all her favorite designers’ current collections.
Finding the right nanny took an entire week of screening applicants. She finally decided on a forty-something woman named Odette, who was from the Bahamas. Odette came with sparkling recommendations and possessed a winning smile that encouraged Mackenzie to gurgle happily and coo while in her arms.
In addition to shopping for a new wardrobe, Nivea needed to hit the gym hard. The residual baby fat had to go! Wanting something a lot more posh than the overcrowded chain establishments, she joined an exclusive fitness center in St. Davids, Pennsylvania. The drive was rather long, but the amenities the gym offered were well worth it. The spacious club had multiple levels, giving its elite clientele what they paid for: state-of-the-art equipment, a pool, a full-on café and a spa. The locker rooms had comfortable lounging chairs and a flat-screen TV, and friendly staff that kept the place impeccably clean.
At the gym, while powering through her elliptical routine, Nivea felt a pair of eyes on her. She looked to her right and noticed a dreamy-looking, caramel-toffee-colored brother who was a few yards away from her. Too far away to talk without shouting, but close enough to notice his light-brown eyes and curly brown hair. Nivea hadn’t noticed any other African Americans at the club and so she nodded her head in acknowledgment. He revealed a confident smile that was partly amused and partly flirtatious and then greeted her with a sort of quick salute.
He was distractingly handsome. And tall and fit. Perspiration molded his blue T-shirt to his well-defined torso, revealing side abs of steel. Something about that smile of his and the mischief in those light-brown eyes made him appear entirely too self-assured. Like he’d led a charmed life with everything coming easily to him—especially women. After giving him a brief but thorough looking over, Nivea noticed he didn’t have on a wedding band. Single. Hmm. I bet when he does get married, it won’t be to a sister. I know his type; he won’t settle for anything other than a white girl—a spaghetti-thin blonde.
Throwing herself back into her workout, Nivea dismissed the hunky dude from her thoughts. She was focused on getting back in tiptop shape before returning to her job. She refused to give any of her coworkers the satisfaction of thinking she couldn’t get rid of the baby weight.
After a half-hour on the elliptical, Nivea whizzed past Mr. Handsome without making eye contact.
“Hey! Have a good day. Hope to see you soon,” he called out brazenly.
What a cocky, shameless flirt! She waved her hand behind her in his general direction, but she didn’t turn around or slow her stride. Eager to try out the Aerial Yoga class that was being held on a lower level in less than ten minutes, she stopped at the water cooler, filled her water bottle, and then hurried down the stairs.
She marveled at her new attitude and felt proud of herself. The old Nivea would have flirted back with the hunk. Would have wondered about his profession and if he was marriage material. That old and emotionally unstable Nivea, whom after being dumped by her ex-fiancé, had gone out on a sex binge with multiple partners and had gotten pregnant in the process, no longer existed. The new Nivea was whole and healed. She didn’t need a ring on her finger to feel secure. She and her daughter were doing just fine by themselves, and the only thing a man could do was complicate her life and drive her crazy—like her ex-fiancé, Eric, had.
She shook her head as she recalled her downward spiral after being dumped by Eric. But in retrospect, Eric had actually done her a huge favor. Being married to his trifling ass would have been a living hell. Like Beyoncé said in her song, Eric was the Best Thing I Never Had!
Aerial Yoga was a form of the practice where participants stretch and exercise, while suspended a few feet above the ground by a silky, hammock-like device. The soft fabric trapeze hung from the ceiling like a swing, and Nivea thought the class was interesting and sort of fun, but afterward, she was left bone-tired and muscle sore.
With Odette at home caring for Mackenzie, Nivea had plenty of time to indulge in an hour-long, Hot Stone massage. After the massage, feeling soothed and relaxed, she leisurely walked to her car. Though she was weaning Mackenzie, a tightening in her breasts told her she needed to hurry home before her breasts became engorged.
“We meet again; it must be kismet,” said a male voice that was filled with playful laughter.
Nivea glanced over her shoulder and groaned a little when she spotted the handsome guy from the elliptical room. He was too fine for his own good, and he knew it, and Nivea had no intention of feeding his already inflated ego by bantering back and forth with him. She turned around and crinkled her nose as if detecting a foul odor. “You’re starting to become a pest.”
“Wow, that’s a low blow. What did I do to deserve that?”
“Excuse me, I’m sort of in a rush; I have a child at home waiting for me.” She expected a reaction when she mentioned her child, but his expression didn’t change.
“I won’t take up much of your time; I’m just trying to get to know you, pretty lady.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” she retorted, aiming the remote at her car. She was angry with men—all men. Didn’t want anything to do with them. The way she felt, she’d be well into her forties before she regained the mental strength to get entangled with another no-good man.
He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’ll back off. But I want you to know, I’m not the bad guy you seem to think I am.” He offered a seductive smile that would have had her panting for him in the past. But she was so bitter toward the entire male species, it would take a lot more than a handsome face to get her juices flowing.
Nivea sucked her teeth. “Bad guy or nice guy, it doesn’t matter to me. I chose this gym for its unique workouts, pleasant ambience, and other amenities. I didn’t come here to get hit on, so please leave me alone.”
His smug smile vanished; disappointment flickered across his face. “Sorry I bothered you. It won’t happen again.” He stuck a hand in his pocket and jostled his keys, and then turned away in defeat. Satisfied that she’d put him in his place, Nivea slid into her car and watched through the rearview mirror as he walked across the lot. He moved with a sort of strut, betraying no sign that he’d been knocked down a peg. He paced toward a dark-colored SUV and disarmed it. The trill of his cell phone went off before he opened the door. With the phone held to his ear, he laughed and talked. His languid posture—the sensual way he leaned against his vehicle—announced that he wasn’t talking to one of the boys.
He probably received numerous offers for sex every day. She was relieved she hadn’t taken his flirtatiousness seriously. He was simply another no-good dog.
Thank God for Mackenzie. Her beautiful baby was all she needed in the world. And she needed money, of course. Anxious to see her daughter—to hold her and inhale her sweet scent—Nivea exited the parking lot with a sense of urgency.
HARLOW
Since returning from London, Drake had been spending more time than usual with Harlow. Today, he left his office for a few hours to have a lunch date with her, and instead of rushing back to work, he accompanied her back to their apartment building for a little afternoon delight.
The average wife would be flattered if her husband took time out of his busy day to wine and dine and make love to her, but Harlow found it increasingly difficult to spark up her libido for anything other than conceiving a child. Sex for the sake of sex didn’t interest her m
uch. But Drake was trying hard to reignite the passion in their marriage and she did love him. And for love’s sake, she intended to go through the motions and pretend that making love was still fun.
As they strolled into their apartment building, hand in hand, they were the image of a glamorous, happy couple. But Harlow was desperately unhappy. She loved Drake with all her heart, but there was something going on with him—something dark and dangerous. A baby would fill her life and take her mind off the unpleasant thoughts about Drake and the questions that plagued her.
The concierge greeted the couple with a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. These are for you, Mrs. Morgan,” he said to Harlow, producing from behind the desk, an array of light and dark pink lilies and a spray of pink roses in a clear vase.
Harlow beamed up at Drake. “Oh, this is too much. You’re so sweet. Thank you, darling,” she said sincerely. She decided then and there that it was time to let go of her foolish doubt. Drake was a good man, and he loved her deeply. He’d saved Harlow’s life after their wedding, and instead of mistrusting him, she should be grateful.
“I didn’t send those,” Drake said, raising a brow as he gazed at Harlow.
“Does Mrs. Morgan have a secret admirer?” asked the concierge.
“Not that I know of.” Laughing, Harlow opened the card while both Drake and the concierge waited in suspense.
“Oh, these are from Vangie, thanking me for her mini-vacation last weekend,” Harlow said, leaving out the apology that Vangie had expressed in the note. She tossed the note inside her clutch bag and slipped her arm inside her husband’s as they headed for the elevator.
Inside the lofty apartment, Drake’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Alphonso. Give me a few minutes,” he said and began moving in the direction of his study to speak with him in private.
Harlow carried the flowers to the kitchen and set them on the counter. She stood back and observed the arrangement. Though it was a thoughtful gesture, it was too little too late. Vangie had crossed a line when she’d slandered Drake’s name. A flower bouquet couldn’t make up for Vangie’s unkind words.
Hearing Drake’s footsteps approaching, she turned around.
Drake gave Harlow an odd look. “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
He studied her with his intense dark-brown gaze. “You look sad…you seem sort of tense.”
“I’m fine, Drake.” She managed a faint smile.
Drake made long strides toward her and then banded his arms around her. “Whatever’s bothering you, Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he murmured, his lips gliding briefly against hers. A tiny shiver moved through Harlow as she inhaled his unique, manly scent and felt the heat of his body.
Like old times, a tiny shiver moved through her and with a soft groan, Harlow pressed her body into his, clutching at his lapels as she buried her face into the curve of his shoulder, breathing him in deeply.
“Baby,” he moaned, pulling her closer and cupping her buttocks possessively. “I need you so bad.”
She gazed at him. Struck by his gorgeousness and his massive sex appeal, she must have been out of her mind to have treated him as if he were nothing more than a sperm donor. “I need you, too,” she whispered, lifting her mouth to his and parting her lips invitingly.
His tongue stroked against hers, and it was literally, the sweetest kiss. His mouth tasted delicious. Like the wine he’d drunk during lunch. A charge went through her, quickening her pulse, and she was hit with an overwhelming desire to feel his flesh next to hers. She was married to the hottest man on earth and yet she’d been foolishly going through the motions of lovemaking. Her desire to conceive had been so powerful, she’d denied herself the sexual pleasure that no one in the world except her insanely sexy husband could give her.
Her shaky hands yanked off his tie and grabbed at his expensive shirt, ripping it open. Buttons popped off, scattering and rolling around the marble kitchen floor. With the ferocity of a wild animal, she clawed at his undershirt, slitting it open with her fingernails. With a primal yearning, she licked the flesh of his chest, moaning at the firm texture and the salty-sweetness of his rich velvet skin.
“Damn, babe,” Drake rasped in an appreciative tone as Harlow’s busy hands worked to undo his belt. His breathing became harsh and audible as he surrendered to his wife’s uncharacteristic aggression. Knowing Drake as she did, she figured he had probably planned a slow seduction—candlelight, soft music, and wine before luring her to their bedroom. But in this moment with heat spreading from her cheeks down to her loins, her need was baser and she didn’t require ambience. All she needed was his thick shaft plunging into her depths.
Their hungry eyes locked and they both realized they’d never make it out of the kitchen.
With swift and steady hands, Drake deftly separated Harlow from her clothing, flinging her top in one direction and her skirt in another. Stripped down to her underwear, she fumbled with the hooks of her bra while he wedged off his shoes and shed his pants.
“You get more beautiful every day,” he gasped, taking in her lovely face and then gazing at the ripe swell of her breasts as she freed them from the confines of the pink, satin bra. Under the heat of his gaze, Harlow’s chest heaved with excitement and her nipples tightened into hard knots of desire. He nuzzled the fragrant valley between her breasts and nipped at the hardened peaks before backing away and discarding his briefs.
Naked, now, Drake was a magnificent specimen. The sight of him took her breath away. She swallowed hard as it dawned on her that her handsome husband with his hard and muscular body resembled a gladiator or some type of immortal sex god. Enraptured, Harlow released a sigh as she reached for his burgeoning manhood with one hand and caressed his bulging bicep with the other.
She wanted him in her mouth and inside her body at the same time, but that was an impossible desire. Selecting to satisfy her oral craving, first, Harlow dropped to her knees and clasped Drake’s rigid dick with both hands. She held it for a moment, admiring it almost prayerfully before pressing the smooth helmet against her lips.
Unable to wait any longer, Drake entered her mouth with a forceful thrust. He clamped his hands on the sides of her head. With driving thrusts that rammed her throat and threatened to choke her, Drake revealed how long he’d been denied this pleasure.
Harlow pulled back. “Slow down, darling. Let’s enjoy this.”
“I’m sorry, babe. Really sorry,” he uttered while guiding his swollen dick back to the warmth inside her mouth.
With his eyes clenched shut and while gritting his teeth, Drake appeared to be in sexual agony as Harlow sucked in his length.
“Baby. Please. That’s enough. I’m ready for you. Let me get in it,” he pleaded, breathing so harshly he could hardly speak.
“Not yet; you taste so good, Drake. Let me suck it a little while longer.”
“But, babe, I’m ready for you,” he said in a voice that sounded tortured.
She shook her head and continued to leisurely tug on the hard and slippery member, pulling it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. Drake entwined his fingers in her hair, gripping and pulling much harder than he intended.
The sharp flash of pain in her scalp didn’t deter Harlow; it aroused and intensified her sexual pleasure. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d sucked Drake’s dick. No doubt, she had to have been a little crazy to have denied herself such pleasure.
“You gotta stop! I’m about to come, babe,” Drake warned.
Begrudgingly, she released him, and Drake took her hand helping her to her feet. “What was that all about?” he asked, still breathing hard as he looked at her quizzically.
“I guess I missed you,” she said with a sneaky smile.
“Is that right?” He backed up, bracing himself against the island. He held out his arms. “Come here, baby, let me hold you for a moment while I catch my breath.” Harlow fell into Drake’s arms and he kis
sed the top of her head and then lowered his mouth to her ear.
“If I were you, I’d be gathering my strength right now,” he warned.
She looked at him questioningly.
“I’m about to beat that pussy up, and I don’t want you passing out on me before I’m finished with you.”
She smiled. “I can take it; I like it rough.”
NIVEA
“Now that Kenzie is getting strolled around the neighborhood, I thought she should roll around in style,” Nivea said, gesturing with a grand flourish toward the $2,000 pram carriage that was delivered earlier in the day.
“It’s so elegant, like something the royal baby would ride in,” Odette replied, stroking the chrome handle that was padded in the center with soft leather.
“She won’t outgrow her new pram until she’s thirty-six months old. Look inside, Odette—see how plush it is.” Nivea stroked the soft interior.
Odette peeked inside, patted the fluffy pillow and pressed the cushioned lining. “Mackenzie is going to have many sweet dreams in her new buggy.”
“Don’t call it a buggy,” Nivea corrected. “It’s a pram. Inspired by nineteenth-century British aristocracy.”
“Yes, I know. English ladies who vacation on my island are fond of these big contraptions,” Odette said with a generous smile. “Of course, the nannies are the only ones who cart the children around in these cumbersome things,” she added.
“You’re going to be the envy of the neighborhood when you take Kenzie out for her daily stroll,” Nivea said, oblivious to Odette’s thinly veiled sarcasm.
Odette placed Mackenzie in the carriage. “Well, let’s try out your new Cadillac, Kenzie, my girl. And let’s pray we don’t get carjacked or robbed of those shiny chrome wheels.” Odette gave Nivea a mischievous smile as she tucked Mackenzie inside.
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