Mistress for Hire

by Niobia Bryant

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jessa gave Delaney one last kiss to her brow. “Please keep her away from my mother today,” she ordered. “Take her outside or to the park if you have to.”

  Winifrid nodded and offered her a smile filled with her sadness and her hope for better days for her.

  Jessa turned her back, stiffening her back to the pity offered her as she left the bedroom and walked down the hall to her mother’s suite. It was empty. She continued down the hall and to the stairs, descending them.

  The front door opened and her part-time cleaning woman, Valeria, entered wearing her black uniform of T-shirt and khakis.

  Jessa eyed the elderly Dominican woman with soft wavy hair worn in a French braid that reached her lower back. “Thank you for coming in at the last minute, Valeria,” she said. “Please pack all of Mr. Young’s things and sit them here by the door. Comprendes?” she asked, as she came to stand by the round table in the center of the foyer.

  “Sí, Señorita Young,” she said, her face stoic.

  Jessa left the house, turning to give it one last look before she climbed in her car and drove away. No more happy home.

  She rode in silence during her commute, going through the motions, at times reaching a red light and coming to a stop but wondering how she had even made it there from the last one. When she finally turned in to the underground parking garage and pulled into her reserved spot, she was relieved to not have to focus on driving anymore.

  It’s just another day, Jessa, just like any other day.

  She had to keep telling herself that lie as she made her way over to the elevator.

  Images of the hatred in the eyes of the woman claiming to be Georgia swapped places with those of her pure enjoyment at hurting Jessa through Hammer. He was her weakest link. Never had she felt like such a fool. She didn’t even know where to begin. Her world had become a kaleidoscope of shock and betrayal. She was still processing it all.

  The door opened and she stepped on the elevator, dropping her head to her chin as she turned.

  “Hold the elevator, please.”

  Jessa did before she glanced at her watch. Right on time. Something normal and familiar.

  The sexy stranger stepped on. He already wore a smile as he nodded at her in greeting. “How are you?” he asked, turning to face the closing doors.

  “I’m well,” she lied, as she hit the button for the twelfth floor. “And you?”

  “Still disappointed,” he said, giving her a playful wink as he pulled out his iPhone, giving his attention to the screen as he scrolled through it with the steady stroke of this thumb.

  Jessa just offered him the same polite smile as always.

  The elevator eventually slid to a stop on his floor.

  “Have a good day, stranger,” he said, before stepping off.

  Jessa stepped off behind him.

  He looked at her in surprise. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Yes, take me to your office,” she said.

  He looked confused. “For business?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, her gaze steady as she watched. “Not at all.”

  Her stranger was still perplexed, but he led her through the hall to wide double glass doors with “Halston Architecture” on them. He opened and held one door for her. She nodded her thanks, barely looking around or caring about the modern décor and the bustle of activities of the company’s employees.

  “Good morning, Mr. Halston,” the receptionist said, rising to hand him a cup of coffee.

  He’s the boss.

  She knew the deference well.

  “Thank you, Gracie,” he said, stopping to look back at Jessa. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” she said, aware of the curious eyes of the receptionist on her.

  “I’ll be in a meeting. No interruptions,” he said, before continuing to the right of her glass desk to a black wooden door that was surprising amongst the glass and metal of the contemporary design.

  They walked past a large conference room to a set of matching double doors that opened into his large corner office. She entered before him, already undoing the belt of the lightweight black trench she wore as he closed the door.

  “Lock it,” she demanded over her shoulder.

  He did.

  “What is this about, stranger?” he said.

  “Well, today is your day,” she began, turning to him as she opened her jacket to reveal the sheer black teddy she wore beneath it.

  He did a double take as he dropped his phone.

  She smiled, although it never reached her eyes. “Last night I discovered my husband didn’t ignore his urges like I did with you,” she said, trailing her pointed crimson-painted fingernail down her cleavage. “My heart is broken, and I would like for you to help me forget him, if only for a little while.”

  He stooped to pick up his phone, his eyes trailing up her body as he stood.

  “You are the only reason I left my bed today,” she said, being honest. “I woke up thinking what can make me feel better, and I thought of you.”

  He stepped closer to her. “He’s a fool.”

  She smelled his warm cologne and saw the desire he had for her in his eyes. “Yes, he is. So, can you help me with that, stranger?” she asked, feeling brazen and dangerous. Reckless, yes, she knew was being that, too. She didn’t care.

  I need to be desired. Touched. Made to forget. Be selfish.

  Jessa took the step that closed the small gap between them, reaching up to grasp his face as she rose on the tips of her toes in the heels she wore. She paused, looking at this man who was a stranger to her.

  He tossed his briefcase and phone onto the sofa along the wall before he brought his hands up to ease beneath her coat, gripping her buttocks and pressing her hips forward to feel that he was hard for her. “I’m been dreaming of this,” he whispered against her panting mouth.

  “I know you have,” she said, reclaiming some of the cockiness she’d lost over the years.

  He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.

  She closed her eyes. His lips were smooth and pleasurable, but not familiar.

  Hammer was imprinted on her life. Her body knew nothing but that liar’s touch.

  No more.

  She opened her mouth at the first feel of his tongue and she moaned in pleasure as he slowly kissed her. She kissed him back, bringing her hands from his face to the lapels of his suit jacket to work it over his broad shoulders and down his arms, breaking his hold on her derriere. But only for a moment. Lightly he tapped her cheeks before grabbing a handful as he broke their kiss to press his mouth to her neck.

  She had to force herself not to jolt at first. Not to remember Hammer.

  Soon, she paid attention to his skill. The feel of his lips was soft but not moist. He knew the right spots to kiss and lick. His touch brought her goose bumps.

  When he brought his hands to her waist to pick her up, Jessa wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and pleased with the fresh taste of his skin. He set her on the couch and then dropped to his knees between her open legs.

  He took in the sight of her breasts and nipples pressed against the nearly invisible material before moving down to the thong of her teddy now nestled between the lips of her core. He licked his lips.

  She watched him, surprised at the quickening of her pulse in anticipation. Would he?

  He pulled her teddy to the side and lowered his head to suck her clit between her lips.

  Jessa’s back arched from the couch as if hit with electricity. She entwined her fingers in his hair and balled her hands into soft fists as he feasted on her.

  He’s good. Damn good.

  His tongue was soft, feather light and the perfect speed.

  Shit.

  She felt her thighs tremble. She spread her legs wider and pushed her hips forward. “Good?” she whispered to him.

  He nodded, cu
tting his eyes up to her as he released his tongue and flickered the tip against her quivering bud.

  She gasped hotly, rolling her hips against his mouth. “Yes,” she sighed, tilting her head against the back of the sofa as she brought her hands up to tease her own nipples through the almost invisible material.

  He sucked her again. Deeper. Slightly quicker. Pushing her over the edge. He wanted to please her. He wanted her to cum in his mouth. He wanted to taste it. Lick it.

  Jessa panted, her lips pursed, as she felt her core heat and quiver with the rise of her climax.

  He dug his hands beneath the weight of her body to lift her buttocks off the sofa as he sucked her to a slow explosion.

  Her entire body quivered as she bit her bottom lip to stifle a cry of passion as she enjoyed the waves of her explosive climax. “Hammer,” she cried out.

  She gasped and then winced, memories of his betrayal with a woman who could very well be her daughter blended with her ecstasy. The release also opened the door to her sadness. Her tears were inevitable and burned as they raced from her eyes. “Shit,” she swore. “Shit.”

  “Look at me,” her stranger demanded.

  She opened her eyes to find him looking down at her.

  “It’s not him,” he said, his eyes understanding.

  She sat up, wiping her tears as she set her feet on the floor on either side of him. She locked her eyes with his as she undid his belt and then his zipper before jerking his pants and black boxers down around his hips. The waistband got caught on his erection, and she gripped his inches to free it, giving him a soft half-smile at his width.

  Damn white boy.

  He hissed and pumped his hips forward as she stroked him from the root to the tip.

  He was long and thick. Heavy. No curve. Just straight ahead, but that was fine. Every man was different, and they knew how to work what they were given.

  She looked down at him.

  Thank God.

  She worried it would be pink or reddish. His was a shade darker than his tanned skin and all one beautiful color.

  As she lightly massaged the tip, causing him to shiver, she reached in the pocket of her trench and removed a condom. After tearing the foil with her teeth and removing it, she slid the condom down the length of him before steering his hardness inside her.

  He’s so hard. So. Hard. Shit.

  His lips shaped into a circle at the first feel of her. Her heat. Her wetness. Her tightness.

  He took over, wrapping one arm around her back and the other across her buttocks to press her body against his as he pumped his hips, sending his steel deeper and deeper inside her.

  She pressed her face against the pulse racing at the base of his neck.

  He shook his head.

  “Look at me,” he demanded of her again.

  She gasped as he circled his hips, sending his inches around her core before stroking her hard and deep twice.

  Damn, white boy getting it.

  “Look at me,” he said again, stopping his thrusts.

  She did.

  “Don’t pretend I’m him,” he said, his eyes dipping to take in her panting mouth before rising back up to her half-closed eyes.

  Jessa clenched and released her muscles against him as she met his stare.

  His eyes widened a little in surprise and then deepened in pleasure.

  She released him to grip the edges of the sofa and lift her buttocks up off the cushions as she took over, slowly working her hips back and forth, ending each pump with a grind of her hips.

  He shook his head in wonder. “He’s a fucking fool,” he said, kissing her.

  “Yes the fuck he is,” she agreed, offering him the tip of her tongue to suck.

  “Let me give you some more room to work,” he said, rising to turn and sit with Jessa now straddling him.

  She dropped the trench to their feet and slipped off the straps of her teddy to free her breasts before guiding his head against her cleavage. He latched onto a throbbing, hard nipple as she gripped her hips while she rode him. She cried out in pleasure.

  His tongue is a blessing.

  “Are you married?” she asked suddenly, leaning back to meet his gaze as she continued to rotate her hips, bringing her core against the base of his hardness.

  She saw the truth in his eyes before he even nodded.

  Jessa ran her fingers through his hair and gripped the strands as she rode him harder.

  Oh well. Once a mistress, always a mistress.

  * * *

  “Forgive me, Father Dell, for I have sinned.”

  He looked up from the notepad on which he was writing at his desk. “Jessa,” he said in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “Yes, I know you were not,” she said, looking around his office as she entered. “But I figured since I just cheated on my husband after catching him cheating on me last night that it called for an emergency session.”

  “Father Dell?”

  They both looked to the door to find Sister Runyon, his church secretary. “I wasn’t aware you had an appointment?” she said, glancing at Jessa and then back at the minister.

  “No, I didn’t, but it’s fine. Thank you, Sister Runyon,” he said. “We have a counseling session, so if you’ll close the door.”

  “In here?” she asked, frowning in disapproval.

  Jessa walked over to the door with a stiff smile.

  “Sister Young,” he stressed in warning, rising to his feet.

  “You’re worrying about what’s going on in here and you need to teach your husband, the deacon, that his seat in that pulpit is not for looking under the skirts of whatever woman is silly enough to try that front pew during church. Okay?”

  Jessa closed the door in the woman’s shocked face before claiming one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

  Reverend Dell rushed across the room and reopened it. “Sister Runyon, please come in,” he said, steering her by her elbow. “Sister Young, I think you owe her an apology.”

  Jessa gave her a mocking glance over her shoulder before waving her hand dismissively. “I’m tired of her husband trying to eyeball my panties,” she said, feeling spiteful and petty.

  Sister Runyon gasped in shock.

  “Taking your burdens out on others is a selfish and ugly act, Jessa,” the reverend said from behind her.

  Jessa sighed as if bored. “Go make some lap scarves to give out. That might help,” she said with an arch of her brow.

  “I told you we shouldn’t have ever accepted her membership in this church. A zebra don’t changes its stripes, Reverend,” the woman said.

  “Sister Runyon, please, judge not,” he said.

  “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone,” the woman said, quoting the Bible. “What about that, Reverend Dell?”

  The Bible. Jessa felt a pang in her gut. She thought it carried all the answers to having a better life.

  Fool.

  “Those who consider themselves religious and yet do not keep a tight rein on their tongues deceive themselves, and their religion is worthless,” Jessa quoted in retort over her shoulder. “You’re not the only one can bring scripture. So that means nothing.”

  “Okay, ladies, that’s enough of using the Lord’s word to battle each other,” Reverend Dell said sternly. “Sister Runyon, please leave us alone.”

  “Humph.”

  Moments later the door closed and Reverend Dell came around his desk to reclaim his seat. “I think we should start this session with prayer, Jessa,” he said.

  She gave him a bitter smile as she shook her head. “My days of listening to you and your God are over,” she said, her voice low and acerbic.

  He leaned back in his chair as if to put distance between them. “I see hell in you,” he said.

  “Do you, Rev?” she asked, mocking him.

  He bowed his head and Jessa knew he was praying for her.

  “I did everything right. I begged forgiven
ess from those I wronged. I went to church. I sought counsel. I paid my tithes. I read the Bible. I did good things with my business. I fought to better my life for my blessings to flow,” she said, her anger seeming to pierce every word. “That’s what you said the Lord says, you and the Bible, right? Do good unto others and all of that bullshit, right?”

  “Jessa!” he exclaimed in shock.

  “What? Where are my blessings? Where’s my good karma? Huh? I ain’t catching nothing but pure d-damn hell, so if you see it in me, please explain how when I have done what was requested of me in the name of the Lord.”

  He reached onto his desk and pressed his hand down atop his Bible.

  She eyed the move before shifting her view back to him. “So now I’m the devil?” she asked.

  “No, but there is a change in you.”

  “Is there now?” she asked, crossing her legs.

  His eyes dipped down to take in the move before he looked away.

  She laughed. “I see there’s been no change in you and your desire of me,” Jessa said. “Don’t worry, Rev. I just had some good dick.”

  He shook his head in shame, his mouth silently moving.

  “I was wife and then a mistress, a wife again and a mistress once more . . . but I’m not a whore, so I’m not looking to tackle two dicks in one day,” she said. “You’re good.”

  “I’m sorry that you have been betrayed and it has made you turn your back on the one who will never forsake you,” Revered Dell said.

  “Didn’t he, though?” she asked, trying to chuckle away her tears and failing. “Didn’t he bring me this far and leave me?”

  “It is in your darkest hours that you turn to him and not against him.”

  Jessa rushed to her feet, accidentally knocking the tie of her trench, causing it to open and display her scandalous lingerie. She didn’t bother to close it as she turned and walked to the door. “Good-bye, Rev,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. “If your prayers for me over the years have led my life to this . . . then take me off your damn roll.”

  With that she took her leave, swearing never to darken the church’s doorstep again.

  * * *

  Jessa drove her car up the drive, shaking her head at the sight of Hammer’s black Tahoe parked in front of her house. She shook her head and released a heavy breath. I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.