My dinners? Eaten alone.
My bed? Slept in alone.
My house? Lived in alone.
My life? Alone. Alone. Alone.
The sigh I released was filled with the weight of the bullshit I was letting this man put me through. Enough was fucking enough and this time there was no turning back. No changing my mind. No more of the bullshit.
I laid my heart and my pussy on the line and it was time to deal with the fact that I lost. My message failed because my man was not here with me. He was no more my man than he was before.
He stayed in my bed a little longer and fucked me a little harder. He was filling me up with nothing but dick and empty promises. For the first time during our entire affair I felt like I was being used. That was a no-no.
I finally got it. There would be no divorce. There would be no he and I for all eternity. I was a mistress. His mistress. And nothing more. Well, not anymore.
I’m done with my lover and ready to reclaim my old life . . . in Richmond Hills. It was costing me a pretty penny to break my one-year lease on the new home, but my beautiful home in Richmond Hills was off the market.
I was going home.
Bold move? Of course.
Still, I knew I had some loose ends to tie up once and for all. It’s time for my ex-friends to know just which one of their men had made me look just as foolish as them. I knew the shit would hit the fan but I was ready.
Picking up my BlackBerry I entered the cell numbers of Aria, Jaime, and Renee. Next my message. I already knew what I was sending; I’d written it weeks ago.
Without one moment of hesitation I hit SEND.
There was no way I would just sit back and let him have his happily ever after—the one he’d promised me. Oh no. My ex-lover was going to pay for my broken heart.
Chapter 4
Aria stirred awake, hugging her plush pillows to her side as she stretched her curvaceous frame. The sun was just beginning to rise and peep through the sheer summer curtains hanging on the glass patio doors.
She rolled over in bed, looking at the peacefully sleeping face of her husband. She could easily envision him as a handsome young boy, tall and lean in his preppy private-school uniforms, living a life of privilege. Probably never figuring he would marry a ghetto girl from Newark whose smarts got her onto the campus of Columbia University. Probably dreaming of the days he would start his own family.
He shifted in his sleep and let out a little grunt. Aria’s hand literally itched to stroke the side of his face as guilt covered her like a blanket.
Aria had been just fourteen when her Uncle Freddie’s daughter, Jontae, came from down south to spend the summer with her father. A whole new world was introduced to her: partying in the clubs, dressing sexy, staying out late, just staying in trouble. It was shameful enough all the stress and drama she brought to her mama’s life.
But her family still didn’t know the half of it and her husband knew even less.
Jontae had taught her this “fuck and pluck” scheme they ran, luring men to hotel rooms, sexing them, and then robbing them while they slept. Just straight wildin’.
Abortions. STDs. Even getting slapped around by strange men once or twice. It took her last abortion to get straight. She focused on school, got good grades, and graduated high school with honors.
The repercussions of her past on her present life were always there mocking her, making her feel like she was being punished, making the weight of the secrets she kept from her husband heavy as hell on her shoulders.
Kingston had no clue that Aria was unable to have children. After a year of trying, Aria began to suspect her infertility, and a visit to her gynecologist confirmed her fears. Knowing how badly her husband wanted children and knowing that her scandalous past left her with almost no chance of giving him a baby, Aria didn’t have the heart or the clit to tell him the truth. A sucker-ass move for sure, but with each passing day the omission of her infertility became an even bigger cross to bear.
Aria jumped a little in surprise when Kingston’s eyes popped open and he was looking at her. Lying there. Waiting.
She knew what he wanted, but she couldn’t give it to him. Aria refused to pretend that him going out of town wasn’t a problem. “You all packed for your trip?” she asked, flinging the covers back to roll out of bed before she felt even remotely tempted to straddle his hips and plant his dick deep within her walls until she drained him.
“It’s only one night, Aria,” Kingston said.
“Hmph,” she grunted, reaching into the top of her dresser drawer for clean lingerie. She felt soft ebony hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she knew before he even touched her that Kingston was near. Even with the Jessa Bell bullshit that chemistry and awareness between them had never faded. Never.
“I’m gonna miss you. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept without you, Aria.” He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her body back close to him, his long and hard dick snuggling between her round buttocks.
Aria shivered as he pressed kisses to the base of her neck. “Then don’t go.”
Kingston sighed. “Because you will miss me or because you don’t trust me?” he asked, the softness leaving his voice.
Aria stepped out of his embrace, saying nothing. It had been an ongoing argument since he’d told her about the lecture he was giving at the hospital where he used to work in Pennsylvania. She’d sulked, argued, bitched and moaned. He still was going.
Aria was a journalist and far from a fool. She’d called the hospital and confirmed his part in the lecture series.
But was Jessa going, too?
Aria walked into the bathroom. Before she could close the door, Kingston stepped in behind her. “I asked you to go with me, Aria,” he said, his eyes locked on her.
“And you know I have the big exclusive interview with Nona Richards today,” she said, sitting down on the edge of their black Jacuzzi tub. “Just forget it. Just . . . whatever, Kingston. Enjoy your trip and your trick.”
“Man, to hell with this shit.”
WHAM!
The bedroom door slammed behind him.
“Damn!”
Aria didn’t emerge from the bathroom until after she’d showered and gotten through her morning ritual, including making up her face. As soon as she stepped into their bedroom, she knew Kingston was gone. The house was empty. His presence was gone.
In the past they’d never left each other angry. Never. But fuck that. Aria didn’t like feeling like she was being played for a fool especially by the man she loved and a woman she’d considered to be a lifelong friend.
Bzzzzzzzz.
Her eyes shifted to her vibrating cell phone on the dresser. Her heart hammered to think Kingston had called to say good-bye, to say he loved her, to say he wasn’t going.
Aria crossed the room to snatch up her cell phone. Seeing her mother’s number she felt a mix of disappointment and happiness all at once.
“Hey,” Aria said into the phone, walking back across the room to spray her pulse points with her favorite Armani perfume, Diamonds.
“Whatcha doing?”
“I snagged an interview with Nona Richards. It’s today. No, it’s this morning. Matter of fact, it’s in an hour or so.” Aria shoved the phone between her ear and shoulder as she pulled on the Tracy Reese white cotton wrap dress she’d picked out last night. It looked great against her deep complexion and emphasized her small waist and wide hips.
“Nona Richards!” her mother exclaimed. “Girl, I used to love me some Nona Richards . . . pre-crack, of course.”
“Well, she’s making a big comeback and your baby girl has the exclusive first interview. Say what, what?” Aria did a little booty dance before she stepped into the bronzed sandals.
“When is the new album dropping? Is her voice the same? Did she really run around her front yard ass naked, and singing? How many husbands she had again?”
Aria paused in checking out her reflection i
n the mirror. “Mama, you got more questions than me.”
Heather laughed. “Well, I’m proud of you, baby.”
Aria knew that she was. Her mother had several photo albums filled with clippings of all her interviews and articles with the corresponding cover of the magazine. Bump the baby pictures, Heather Goines was whipping out those albums to show anyone new who strolled through her door.
“Where’s Kingston? Working?”
“He went out of town. Deuces.” Aria rushed down the hall to her office, barely taking in the chocolate and hot pink decor as she grabbed her Coach briefcase sitting by the door. It was packed and ready.
“You still worried Kingston messin’ ’round with Jessa?”
Aria shrugged as if her mother could see her. “I don’t know, Ma . . . but I do know that since that stupid-ass message she sent my marriage is in so much trouble. I’m scared because I love Kingston so much.”
“Trusting him is a part of loving him, Aria.”
Aria closed her eyes, her head falling back a little bit as she stood at the top of the stairs. “Mama, you always make things seem so simple, so cut and dried, so black and white, and they’re not. There are a million shades of gray.”
“And sometimes you young girls make shit way more complicated than it needs to be. The advice I gave you before still stands. You remember it?”
How could she forget it?
Either he’s a no-good dog and don’t deserve one tear shed over his corpse far less because some other woman got to try and keep him chained . . . or it’s not him and you crying for nothing.
Aria rushed down the stairs and out the front door. “Ma, I’ll call you back. I’m jumping in the car and you know you hate for me to be on the cell and driving,” she said, pulling her keys from inside her briefcase to unlock the Rover.
“Okay, call me as soon as your interview is over. I just gots to know if Nona is still thin and smoked out as a burnt match. Loving you.”
Aria smiled. Her mother was funny as hell when she wanted to be. “Loving you back, Ma.”
She put her briefcase on the backseat and hopped into the driver’s seat. The hotel where Nona was staying was just a twenty-minute ride away, but Aria was not chancing traffic or anything else making her late.
Not worrying about Kingston.
Not being overly concerned with her outfit.
Not even chitchatting with her mother on the phone.
Nothing. Nada.
Aria drove the winding curves out of the cul-de-sac, eventually cruising out through the gate of Richmond Hills. She forced herself not to think about Kingston. This interview was a huge deal for her career and she didn’t want the moment soured because she didn’t trust her husband as far as she could see his ass. And put my foot so far up Jessa’s ass that I don’t see it.
Ding-ding.
Aria wrinkled her brows as she reached over to dig her cell phone out of her book bag. “A text,” she mumbled, keeping her foot pressed on the brake pedal as she looked down at her cell phone.
19735550666
She didn’t recognize the number. Aria opened the text message. She gasped in surprise to see the message. Shock. Horror. And pure indignation.
“Jessa!”
Someone laid on the horn behind her and Aria’s rush of adrenaline caused her to jump and slam her foot on the accelerator. She screeched as the Rover sped forward. She dropped the phone as her heart pounded and she grabbed the steering wheel to keep the Rover from running up onto the curb and slamming into the light pole.
Aria slammed on the brakes, causing her body to slam forward against the steering wheel. Cars from all points of the intersection laid on the horns, but she didn’t give a shit that she was blocking the flow of traffic.
She was too shocked to do anything else.
Jaime made sure to breathe in and out of her mouth as she jogged around the block. It was one of the first times she’d actually spent time in the area where she now lived. With its small town houses, mini-malls, and apartment buildings, the vibe was more young urban professional just starting out than the settled, more accomplished feel of Richmond Hills.
In truth? Jaime longed for the quiet elegance of her old neighborhood. In Richmond Hills the most noise you heard was the steady whir of the sprinkler systems and certainly not the thump thump of nearby restaurants and bars or the roars and hollers of those enjoying the late-night vibe of the trendy neighborhood.
Would Eric consider letting me have the house in the divorce ? she wondered, continuing her jog past a brick apartment building.
When she’d left Eric that night, she’d been glad to be free of the memories of the house, but in hindsight she knew she could redecorate and get past all of that to be back in her home. Four thousand square feet of luxury beat the hell out of nineteen hundred square feet of functionality.
And it would be a great showcase for clients of my interior decorating business . . . especially with a home office.
Jaime would move back to Richmond Hills in a heartbeat if Eric would vacate the premises. She’d spent nearly four months decorating the entire house. She’d made sure it was a home he could be proud to live and entertain in.
He’s not giving it up, she thought, slowing down from a jog to a brisk walk as she neared her town house.
Jaime patted the sweat from her forehead with her forearm. She remembered when she would have never run outside or dared to show herself with a sweaty hairdo. Change is good, she thought, turning up the short walkway to the front door of her brick-faced town house rental.
As soon as she locked the front door behind her she began to strip out of the crisp white tank and running shorts. Jaime left a trail of clothing, sneakers, socks, and undergarments as she made her way to her bedroom. The jog had done her good. She had a lot on her mind and it was good to get away from her distractions.
“You back?”
Jaime eyed Pleasure sitting up in the middle of her bed. Naked. Muscled. Strong. Leg bent. Dick laying across his thigh like a snake.
Sexy as shit.
Jaime nodded, wishing her cheeks didn’t feel hot and that her heart and clit weren’t fluttering like butterfly wings.
Jaime had many decisions to make about her life and she knew Pleasure was one of them. “Don’t you want more out of life than selling your dick?” she asked, leaning her bare ass back against her dresser.
He locked his intense ebony eyes on her as he used one strong hand to lazily stroke the long and thick length of his dick. “Don’t you want more out of life than paying for my dick?” he countered, said dick stretching and hardening in his hand.
Jaime’s eyes locked on his erotic movement. Her nipples tingled. “Yes,” she answered, forcing her voice to be as bold.
“Liar.” His eyes and his tone were serious as he massaged the tip.
Jaime felt a little offended. “You don’t think I want a better relationship than . . . whatever this is that we have?” she asked, pushing off the dresser to step closer to the foot of the bed.
“I like to fuck and you like for me to fuck you. It is what it is, Jaime. You knew that. You know that.” Pleasure inched his body down on the bed so that he was lying flat, spreading his legs wide as his grip on his dick tightened.
She forced her eyes to stay locked on his, ignoring the way he bit his bottom lip as the stroke of his hands quickened. “So you plan to sell yourself until when? Until you lose your looks and your dick needs Viagra or some shit?”
Pleasure laughed, never once taking his eyes from hers, as he rose to stand in the center of her bed, his deeply dark and delicious dick still in his caramel bronzed hands. “Until women like you no longer need my . . . services.”
“So there are more than me?” she asked, hating that his dick was now level with her gaze and she missed not one moment of him shaking his dick at her. Like it was a joke. Like her need for him was a joke.
“You know that and you couldn’t care less,” Pleasure told her boldly, walk
ing down the length of the bed to stand precariously on the edge. He raised one strong arm upward until his hand was pressed to the ceiling and steadying him.
His dick was just inches from her mouth and Jaime could smell that addictive mix of his warm and spicy cologne and the natural scent of him. She cut her eyes up to look at his face. The look of bold conquering was in the ebony depths of his eyes as he tapped his dick lightly against her closed mouth.
Jaime opened her mouth and easily captured his dick between her lips. “Am I the only one you fuck for free?” she asked around her mouthful, feeling it throb like a racing pulse against her tongue.
Pleasure put both hands on the ceiling and arched his hips forward sending a few more inches into her mouth. “Yes.”
It was Jaime’s turn to feel cocky. She jerked her head back and freed his dick from her mouth with a pop. “Maybe I need to charge you?”
Pleasure just laughed.
Ding-dong.
Jaime looked over her shoulder out the door and down the hall at the front door. “Be right back,” she told him, reaching behind the bedroom door for her red satin robe before she left the room.
Bzzzzzzzzz.
Before she could reach the door her cell phone vibrated on the countertop. Jaime grabbed it, looking down at it as she continued on to the door.
A text from a number she didn’t recognize.
“Who is it?” Jaime said loudly through the door, using her manicured thumbs to open the text.
“Your mother, dear.”
And the sound of Virginia Osten-Pine’s voice weakened Jaime to no end. She bit her bottom lip as she glanced back at her open bedroom door. The last thing she needed was her mother finding a sexy stripper, butt naked with a hard dick and a smile, in her bedroom. Jaime just wasn’t up for the histrionics.
“One second, Mother.” She turned and rushed down the hall to her bedroom. Pleasure was back in the middle of the bed, propped up, dick still in hand, sexy smile in place, and ready to fuck and be fucked.
Jaime had to shake herself from the dick trance as she motioned for him to be quiet before she pulled the room door closed. Cell phone still in hand, she tied her robe closer around her body as she rushed back to the front door to pull it open with the biggest and fakest smile. “Good morning.”
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