by S. Ann Cole
“Hmm,” he hummed, licking off the spoon. “So she’s a kinky one, huh?”
Saskia watched his lips on the spoon before she shook her head and frustratingly requested, “Could you stop doing that, please?”
“Stop doing what?”
“That.” She motioned to the spoon. “Your tongue…the spoon…the ice-ream…Just…stop. Please.”
Jahleel had to wrestle down a laugh. Because he wasn’t even teasing her. He was honest-to-God just enjoying some good ole Haagen Dazs, and she was getting heatedly frustrated.
“Her records. Lemme see them,” he said, ignoring her request and scooping more ice-cream in.
As Saskia walked by him, she firmly, effectively, grabbed the bowl from his hand without even breaking stride, and he couldn’t help his laugh then.
His Saskia. His badass Saskia.
A minute later she returned with some documents.
“This is her medical records. This is the confidentiality agreement I made her sign. And this is her bio. As you can see, she’s practicing to be a registered nurse, and comes from a well-off family. So I didn’t just bring you a prostitute.”
“Hear ya,” he mumbled as he perused the documents.
Pleased with what he saw, he thrust the papers back to her and headed off in Ashley’s direction. But Saskia seized his arm to stop him, dumping the docs on a nearby side-table.
“What?” he snapped at her, sharply yanking his arm from her touch.
Her touch, he couldn’t…not right now. He wanted her too bad. And if he allowed her to touch him, that would be it. He would lose.
He did not want her touching him. Her touch was weakening, heart-breaking, soul-taking, overpowering, overwhelming, underwhelming, made him muddleheaded, made him blind, made him foolish, incapable of sensible thoughts. Her touch was good, her touch was bad, made him happy, made him want to cry. Made him love her more and hate her less. Made him give in, made him helpless.
Her touch wasn’t a touch. Her touch was life.
With a dejected sigh, Saskia dropped her hand. “Sorry. Um, I’m not trying to give you any rules or anything, yeah? I’m just asking you a favor. Please.”
Damn right she wasn’t issuing any rules, ‘cause he would just walk right out. Take Ashley with him, too. Ha, nice asshole idea. Why didn’t he just do that?
Because love would never allow him to, that’s why. He was stuck in love with her.
“What favor?”
Stuffing her hands in her back pockets, she glanced down at her feet, chomped on her lips for a few seconds, then glanced back up at him with pain in her depths. “Don’t let her kiss you. It’s too intimate. I just…I can’t even stomach the thought of it.”
Was she even fucking serious right now? After all he had to watch her do on video? And wasn’t the whole point of doing this fuckery to hurt her as much as he could?
He should have pointed all that shit out to her, but instead, he nodded and agreed, “Sure. Don’t let her kiss me. Got it.”
He wasn’t a pussy. Really, he wasn’t.
Saskia followed him down the hall, but when he walked into the guest bedroom, she stopped outside the door instead of following him in.
Jahleel turned to face her. “You gettin’ in or what?”
Her gaze slid past him and into the bedroom, then back to him. “I was thinking…”—she shuffled in a thick air of nerves—”maybe I could just, um, stay outside the door instead of coming in to watch, you know. Maybe I could just listen instead?”
Fuck no.
Reaching out to take her by her arm, he pulled her into the room and led her over to an armchair facing the bed, forcing her to sit in it. “You asked for this. So you’re gonna sit, you’re gonna stay, and you’re gonna watch. All of it. Like I had to watch you. Watch me enjoy this, Sassy. Because I am gonna enjoy it. You know why?” He didn’t want an answer. “Because I’m very attracted to that Ashley chick. Very.”
Jahleel had to turn away from those wide gray eyes, afraid she would be able to see right through his facade. What she didn’t know was, if she said and did the right thing in this moment, if she stood up, fought and demanded he take her back, if she even breathed on his skin…she could have him wrapped around her finger in a flash.
But Saskia was an assumer. She didn’t know how to fight. She only knew how to assume and settle. Therefore, she would never know just how weak he was to her. She would never know she had the power to end this, right here, right now, with just the right words.
She would never know.
Ashley came modeling out of the bathroom in red lingerie with stockings and garter, and black fuck-me-deep-and-hard heels. Stopping at the foot of the bed, she held on to one of the posts and flipped her hair to the side in a whirl of sex and come-fuck-me-ness, like a model would on an erotic photo shoot. The girl was all that; he wouldn’t lie. She was the kind of girl men used as their screen saver.
“Thought I called dibs on peeling your dress off,” he said, smooth and low, as he moved toward her.
Ashley trailed her finger down her cleavage and along the edges of her lingerie bra as she shamelessly eye-fucked him. “I figured you’d have more fun peeling this off….”
And as if she couldn’t wait a second longer, she rushed up him faster than he could think and looped her arms around his neck, tipping up to kiss him.
But Jahleel was swift in dodging her lips, and he wagged a finger at her. “Nuh uh. You’re not allowed to kiss me.”
Ashley drew back a little, her lips protruding in a pout, her brows meeting together in displeasure. “Well, that sucks.”
Smirking, Jahleel slid his hand around to cup the back of her neck, yanked her up against him, and crushed his mouth down on hers.
Ashley moaned in his mouth at the attack.
At the gasping sound of protest from the left, Jahleel broke the god-awful kiss and glanced over at Saskia. With an amalgam of emotions on her face, she looked as if she were about to hurl.
“What? You said not to let her kiss me.” A sharp stab of pain settled in his chest at the expression on her face, but he tried to ignore it. Forcing an insensitive grin and a wink, he said, “Look closely this time and you’ll see. I’m kissing her, not the other way around.”
Chapter Thirteen
Saskia…
I fucked myself.
This was the stupidest idea in the history of ideas. Real, sane people didn’t fix their broken relationships like this.
What the bloody hell was I thinking? I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t.
Him. His hands all over her. His mouth on her. His groans. Her moans. Right there in front of me. Live. Bloody Live!
My heart twisted and turned in my chest, fighting to get out. The pain was too much. I just wanted to die. To bleed out and die.
But he wouldn’t let me die. To get him back, I thought I could’ve done anything and to hell with the consequences. But how wrong was I?
The minute he’d stepped into the house and started flirting with that girl, I realized my mistake.
Ashley was ten out of ten sexy, no doubt about it.
When I’d fingered her out at the club, Amanda asked if I’d fallen and hit my head somewhere hard. She’d pointed out that choosing the hottest, most desired member in the freak club would help lose the man, not keep him.
However, I’d figured if I chose someone less attractive, Jahleel would’ve seen right through my game. So, I chose Ashley. And now I regret it.
Ashley was perfect both in looks and on paper. And her those “perfect” hands were all over my man.
Truth be told, I was hoping Jahleel would act like the arsehole that he was and piss this girl off so much that she would just leave in a fit of pique. Then this would all be one cockup, he would appreciate my effort for trying and forgive me and take me back. Bam. Happily ever after.
But I always was delusional, wasn’t I?
Instead, it was the reverse. Not only was Ashley drooling all over him—as
per her request, I’d kept the identity of who she’d be getting down and dirty with, so, of course, she was shocked when she saw it was Jahleel. Apparently she was a JK Babe, too—but Jahleel was too attracted to her and it was disheartening, to say the least.
What if he ended up enjoying her so much that he just fucks off with me and runs off with her?
Fucking fuck.
After an eternity of kissing and groping—which I was squirming through like a bloody earthworm—Jahleel drew back from Ashley and hauled his tee over his head.
Ashley emitted a tiny gasp at the sight of Jahleel’s bare chest. She couldn’t have been any more excited even if she was bouncing up and down and shouting “score!”
Plus at the moment, Ashley was no fan of mine, because I’d been flat-out bitchy to her from the get go. She only tolerated me because of Amanda, as she was one of Amanda’s on and off subs. I had no idea what kind of arrangement they had, but it was Amanda who’d convinced her to do this.
Ashley went both ways, but she preferred women more than men, which had given me ease in using her. But all that ease fled the moment I saw her reaction to Jahleel. It was like he was a different sex all to himself, and now she went three ways: Men, women, and Jahleel.
Walking around her, Jahleel went over to the surround station, and minute later, Dive In by Trey Songz bled through the speakers at a sweet, intimate volume.
I died a little.
My fingernails dug into the flesh of my palms as I fought to remain seated. Ashley looked over to me and smirked while Jahleel’s back was still turned, her chest heaving up and down as if Jahleel’s kiss had stolen all the breath from her lungs.
But I didn’t have it in me to be mean to her anymore, so she was winning. All my energy went into a struggle to keep down what I ate for dinner earlier. And all that went down so far was light kissing. How was I going to hold up when they…oh, God.
Don’t throw up, Kia. Don’t throw up. You can get through this.
With bravado, I straightened up a little in the armchair, unconsciously clearing my throat. At the sound, Jahleel turned around and raised a brow at me. No emotion, no nothing.
Squeezing out a smile, I waved a hand for him to proceed.
There was a suspicious gleam in his eyes as he studied me, but then he shrugged and walked back towards Ashley, who was all impatient to get her hands on him again.
Jahleel reeled her in to kiss her again, but something happened. Halfway to meeting Ashley’s lips, he stopped and glanced over at me. Our eyes locked.
I held my breath.
Jahleel made a small shake of his and aborted the kiss.
I released the breath.
Taking a seat at the edge of the bed instead, he urged Ashley down on her knees. The trollop was more than happy to oblige. And when Jahleel slightly nodded down at the bulge in his pants with a half-smile, she spared no time in getting to work on his belt buckle and zipper.
As she did this, Jahleel slowly turned his head to look over at me. And I couldn’t understand what the look on his face meant. Like he was expecting something from me. But what?
Balling my hand into a fist, I stuffed it into my mouth and shifted my eyes from him and focused on Ashley instead.
She got his cock out. He was hard. He was fucking hard for her. Someone who wasn’t me.
Oh, God.
This sucks, because if this was a romance novel, this is not how things would’ve played out. That’s why I like romance novels. If this was a romance novel, he would’ve not been attracted to her, her touch would’ve repulsed him, and he would’ve been visualizing me instead of her to get hard.
But such was my fucking luck. This was not romance. This was real life, and I had to deal with it, because it was my super genius idea to get the man I loved back.
Ashley fisted his dick and stroked her hand up and down, slowly, like a pro-slut. And going by Jahleel’s sharp intake of breath, I’d say she had a degree in hand-jobs.
And to complement her hand-job, she gave him all kinds of hot-and-bothered flirtatious, I-can’t-wait-to-get-your-cock-inside-me looks.
While Jahleel just watched her and smiled.
Yes, smiled.
Then Ashley dove down, sucking his cock into her mouth. A cock that was supposed to be for me and me alone. My cock. Except now I was holding on to that “my cock only” title by a thin thread. Well, considering his cock was in another woman’s mouth, that title was null and void.
Thankfully, Jahleel gave no reaction…yet. Maybe she wasn’t as good as I thought.
But when his fingers slid into her hair and curled as he let out a long, shuddering breath, tears sprung to my eyes so fast, it’s as if I was punched in the nose.
I wanted it to stop.
I wanted it to stop.
But instead of shouting “stop,” I bit my lip and tried to fight back the tears.
What I was feeling was far beyond describable. It’s like when you get extremely bad news, and on instant, you want to run to the bathroom to do more than throw up. You feel like there’s no ground beneath you and you’re standing on air, your blood rushing loud in your ears, the edges of your vision darkening. And your body feels so far, far away from the world.
A horrible feeling. Horrible.
Ashley’s head moved up and down, evoking quiet moans from Jahleel.
A lone tear crept down my cheek, and Jahleel turned his head to look over at me right then. As if he felt the tear.
Something resembling pain flashed across his face, and for a second, he seemed hesitant, his mouth opening as if to say something to me. But then the moment past, and he closed his eyes, shook his head once, then reopened them and fixed his attention on Ashley. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and began whispering words to her, spurring her on.
“You’re fuckin’ pretty, you know that?”
“Oh, fuck, yeah. Like that.”
“Do that again, sweet girl.”
“You got the sexiest fuckin’ lips.”
“Yeah, Ashley, you’re all that.”
By this time, big, fat tears were escaping. Jahleel didn’t speak like that during sex. He was serious about fucking, and being constantly vocal wasn’t his thing. So either this girl was good enough to suck him to a place he’d never been before, or he was doing it on purpose to hurt me more.
This was painful. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch anymore.
But I also couldn’t leave. So I pulled up my feet into the arm chair, drew my knees to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them. Squeezing my eyes shut, I buried my face between my knees.
He could force me to stay in the room, but he couldn’t force me to keep my eyes open and watch. Even though hearing was just as awful as watching.
Abruptly, I heard a, “Get out.”
“What?” Ashley’s voice asked, stricken with disbelief and disappointment.
This had me opening my eyes to see Jahleel zipping up his jeans, his stare locked on me, pain and contrition swirling in his golden debts.
“Get the fuck out,” he reiterated to Ashley. “We’re done here. Tell Thomas to take you home.”
“But—”
“Ashley, girl, you’ve been on my good side all night,” he said impatiently. “My bad side, you don’t wanna be on it. Trust me. Just go. “
My heart propped up in a hopeful pose, even as the tears deluged.
Ashley huffed, shot me an I-so-fucking-hate-you glare, then stormed out of the room.
Jahleel moved to close the door behind her, then he disappeared into the bathroom.
Tap water running.
Mouthwash gurgling.
Timberlands against the floor tiles.
His half-dressed body emerged from the bathroom and took quick, long strides over to me. Pulling my arms from around my knees, he scooped me up from the armchair and headed for the bed.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t, Sassy. I can’t watch you hurt. I can’t hurt you. I’m so f
uckin’ sorry.”
And that’s when I really started crying. Fat, ugly, River Nile tears. Whimpering and hiccups.
Jahleel lowered me down on the bed and went straight to unzipping my jeans, hauling them off along with my knickers, all the while repeating, “I’m sorry” over and over. While I ugly-cried harder with each apology.
Loudly.
Parting my legs, he peppered my inner thighs with hot kisses, dropping an apology between each one.
Then he was licking me, sucking me, eating me.
And as fucking amazing as his mouth felt on me, it didn’t quell the tears.
I couldn’t stop crying.
I cried even as the familiar tingle shot up the back of my knees. I cried even as my legs began to tremble. I cried even as my fingers curled tightly into his hair. As my body stiffened. As my hips shot up off the bed in an electrifying jolt. As my orgasm ripped me apart. I cried through it all.
I bawled and I wailed and I whimpered.
Jahleel crawled up on top of me, his face twisted in agony as though he was going to die from my pain. “Please stop crying, Sassy. I love you. I do. I never stopped. I forgive you. I’ll take you back. I’ll marry you. I’ll knock you up. Just…stop crying. It hurts so bad to see you hurt. It fuckin’ hurts. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
But I couldn’t. Not that I didn’t want to, but the tears were coming of their own accord. I couldn’t control them. When I tried to stop, I would hiccup, then start all over again. It was three months and two weeks’ worth of tears. So I had to let them run.
They were good tears. Bad tears. Apologetic tears.
Good, because I was getting my fiancé back. Bad, for all I had to witness. And apologetic, for disappointing him, almost ruining everything we had.
Helpless to stop my tears, Jahleel dropped his face in the crook of my neck and waited with me, assuring me he loved me. My body rattled with sobs beneath him.
We waited.
Waited for all the bad and the ugly to seep out, and for love to prevail.
Eventually, the sobs ceased.
I breathed evenly into the crook of his neck as he breathed into mine, our limbs relaxed, our hearts beating in unison.