Every Woman Needs a Wife

by Naleighna Kai

  “Do you think some of your friends who were married to the League members have that same amount of know-how?”

  “Yes, all of the wives are college-educated. That’s where we met our husbands.” Bettye stopped chopping and peered at him. “What are you brewing in that thick skull of yours?”

  Vernon could only smile.

  CHAPTER Fifty-Five

  Blinding rain made it nearly impossible to navigate Chicago traffic. It was coming down as though the very gates of Heaven had opened and spilled over. A few drops caused a meltdown. This kind of rain turned streets into instant parking lots and littered streets and highways with fender benders. He might have missed his time with the girls.

  Vernon had left the office after calling a special meeting of the League. He was vague about the reason, just said that the League’s reputation was at stake. Calls went out and the meeting would convene when the confirmations reached eighty percent. His father would probably disown him, but one person would be proud of him—his mother. That would mean more to him than anything in the world right now.

  He pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house, giving thanks for making it home safely when so many accidents on the way in signaled just how dangerous traveling had become. By the time he ran from the car to the house, his dark brown suit was plastered to his body. Chilled to the bone, he walked through the door, shook off the excess water and prepared to make a mad dash for his bedroom, a hot shower and some dry clothes. He glanced into the living room and froze at the doorway.

  Brandi lay on the sofa, hair splayed across a pillow, bare feet propped up on the edge, a sliver of her breasts displayed in their luscious glory. Soft lamplight a few feet away illuminated her smooth skin, high cheekbones, and thinly arched eyebrows; the glow on her red lips begged for a kiss. The navy skirt had slipped high on her thigh, exposing a curvy bit of flesh that caused a familiar stirring in his groin. God, she was beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered.

  The chill that ran through his body this time had nothing to do with the rain. It had everything to do with fear—fear of losing the best thing that had ever happened to him. What if he couldn’t win her back? What if he turned ninety, was rocking in a chair somewhere, wondering “what if?” Or if, for some reason he had not found another woman quite like the one he had married? He had watched her grow from a college student who shut everyone out of her world, to a strong woman who had the strength to carry more weight on her shoulders than she had a right to endure. Could she forgive him for being blind to that fact? If she held even a seed of love within her heart for him, would she allow him to water it and help it grow?

  He moved to the sofa as though pulled by a magnetic force, whipping off his jacket and tie along the way. He trailed his fingers softly across her face, expecting her to awaken. She didn’t move. He dropped to his knees, brushing his lips against her temple.

  Brandi stirred and turned toward him. The skirt made a hasty dive toward her hips—exposing a navy garter, flesh colored thigh-highs and lace panties underneath. He kissed her again, lingering as his tongue slithered out to trace a slow outline of her lips. This time her eyes fluttered open and her gaze locked on him, lips trembling with the sudden movement.

  Encouraged by the fact that she didn’t push him away, he leaned in, pressed his lips gently to hers, slid his tongue into the small inviting opening as she parted her lips. Slowly, as though for the first time, he explored the soft recesses of her mouth, delving deeper as a small moan escaped her lips.

  Locking his gaze on hers, he increased the intensity of his tongue’s movements, watching as her eyelashes fluttered, then covered her eyes with a final sweep, following another breathy moan. The kiss lasted mere minutes, but the torture of blood rushing to create a full, throbbing erection felt like hours.

  Vernon pulled away just long enough to ask, “Where are the girls?”

  Her eyelashes fluttered again, then she blinked twice before fully opening her eyes. “Huh? What? Who?”

  He smiled at her obvious confusion. “The girls? Where are they?”

  “Sleeping in the guest bedroom,” she said, in a voice that was just above a whisper. “You know I don’t like to drive in this kind of rain.”

  Leaning in, he unbuttoned her blouse. He cupped her breasts before his lips tasted their sweet softness. Taking the lace material in his teeth he pulled her bra away, exposing the hardened nipple. He watched her through hooded eyes, as her body lifted toward him. In one smooth motion he lay on top of her, burying his head in the soft swell of her breasts, as the warmth of her body swept away the cold of his. Her hands, delicate and trembling, reached for him, pulling him closer as he teased the nipple with his moist tongue.

  As his erection throbbed, demanding to be inside her, he pulled away. “We can’t do this.”

  Her hands gripped the back of his head in a lock. “What the hell do you mean we can’t do this?”

  A low chuckle escaped Vernon’s lips. “Let me rephrase the statement. We can’t do this—here.”

  She released her death grip and shifted to a sitting position. A glint of disappointment flashed in her light brown eyes, giving him a sliver of hope. She wanted him, right?

  “My mother could walk in on us.”

  Her lips lifted in a small smile. “And when has that stopped you?”

  “Since the last time she saw more of my ass than she needed to. And a glimpse of this,” he said, cupping the moist mound of flesh between her thighs. “Proving that you were indeed…a natural woman.”

  “We-ell, if you put it that way,” she said with a sheepish grin.

  His fingers laced into her silky hair as he said, “Then she made me start doing my own laundry.”

  Brandi laughed, the sound was sultry and warm. He looked into her eyes, seeing the weariness ease away—a weariness that he had caused. A stab of pain pierced his heart. He had promised never to hurt her—and he had done more than that. He had nearly destroyed her—and for what? To prove what to whom? Nothing to no one that mattered.

  He pulled her toward him, held her close, and kissed her as he lifted her from the sofa and settled her in his arms.

  “Now you know you need to put me down.”

  “Shhhhh, let me handle this.” He maneuvered her through the long hallway past his mother’s master bedroom, then toward the guest room where Sierra and Simone were sleeping. He peered in at his angels, making sure that they were indeed asleep. Simone ripped out a snore that could call every hog in the area. Sierra had kicked off the covers and lay so close to the edge of the bed, a single finger could tumble her onto the floor. But she always managed to stay in—no matter what.

  Shifting his gaze to Brandi, he paused, realizing that she had lost weight—and that, too, was his fault. He would make up to her—he would make a mission of it.

  “If you drop me, I’m suing,” she said with a slight pout.

  He laughed, put his back against his bedroom door, and swung it open. “I won’t ever let you fall.”

  The moment he stepped inside he set her gently on the bed, then scurried back to lock the door. For a moment he watched as her gaze fell on the small desk, the baseball trophies, the posters of Vanity, Apollonia, and a few other ’80s babes. In the center of the wall across from his bed—a picture of Brandi with a smile so wide it stopped his heart, eyes so vibrant it saddened him to realize he had extinguished the light in them.

  “It’s clean in here.”

  Miffed at her tone, he replied, “I always keep a clean room.”

  “No,” she said with a grin. “I mean military clean.”

  “Mama.”

  She laughed softly. “I feel you.”

  Hands that had a mind of their own whipped through the rest of the buttons of her blouse and the bra’s key hooks, and tossed both to the side. She leaned back on her elbows, allowing him a full view of her bare breasts. Cupping one in her hand, she offered it to his mouth. He took it willingly and hungrily, teasing her until he
r body trembled with pleasure. Savoring each of her moans, he moved as close as humanly possible, stroking her back with his hands, then lowering her to the bed in a smooth glide.

  The skirt zipper gave way with a good tug, allowing it to slither over her fleshy hips with minimal movement from Brandi. Tiny silver latches connecting the navy lace garter to flesh-colored thigh-high stockings all caught his attention. Damn! When had she started wearing those?

  She watched him with a smile playing about her lips as he stared at her thighs. He looked up at her, but didn’t dare ask. For a moment he wondered…had someone else been with his woman? Though he had no right to claim her like that—he couldn’t help it—she was still his. He would make her his all over again.

  Gently rolling the silk stockings down her legs, then removing them from the tips of her red manicured toes, he soon held her bare flesh in his hands. But one part of her body called to him more than the rest. Leaning in, the sweet musky scent of her sex beckoned him, and the slight parting of her thighs was all the invitation he needed. Pulling her forward, he draped both thighs over his shoulders, giving him open access to a world of pleasure. He trailed his tongue alongside her left thigh causing a tremor through her body that resonated all the way to her toes. Oh, yes…she still belonged to him—he would show her—oh yes!

  He placed his lips on her swollen clit, she lifted her hips to him, and he answered her call with swift nibbles on the soft, pink flesh.

  She cried out and gripped him so hard he couldn’t move even if he wanted.

  At this moment, getting away from this little piece of heaven was as far from his thoughts as giving up on his wife, his marriage, or his life. He had to have her back. And he had to have her now! He encircled her center with his tongue.

  Her thighs trembled, then clamped onto his head as if her very life depended on him remaining right there. He tasted the salty-sweetness of her, relishing the moans and tremors that ripped through her like a personal earthquake. He had to make her his—now!

  Her voice, sultry and smooth, uttered his name in broken English.

  His elation at being so close to his wife again propelled him forward as he buried his tongue inside her, swirling it around the sensitive points of her center.

  “Oooooooooooooooooooooooh!!!” she nearly screamed, before he covered her mouth with his hand.

  “Shhhhhhhh, baby. Shh. It’s all right,” he said before going back to work, wanting her to want him so badly that she wouldn’t dare end this—not this time! Filling his senses with the very essence of her, he gripped her hips, beginning a slow rhythmic assault that made her throw her head back and mewl, the sweetest cry-moan-scream he had ever heard.

  He unzipped and removed his pants and briefs in one fluid effort. She reached for him, wrapping a trembling hand around his erection, forcing him to adjust his body and hers on the bed. Poised to enter, a small stab of worry filled him as he realized one thing and pulled away—again. “Baby… I don’t have a—”

  She lifted her head, locked his gaze with a steely look, and said through clenched teeth, “If you stop one more time I will kill you and bury you where no one can find the body.”

  What a way to say, “Keep it coming!” Seconds later, he pressed at her core, savoring her moist, tight heat. She gripped his cheeks in both hands, pulled him forward with a strength he didn’t know she had, and in one strong solid thrust, buried him to the hilt in a tight sheath of rippling flesh that welcomed him like a long-lost friend and gripped him like an unwilling prisoner.

  Brandi tightened her thighs around his waist as she shimmied her hips until he hit the spot that caused a quivering that never seemed to end. Her moan gave way to a shaky scream, which forced him back to reality. He covered her mouth again, cooing soft, comforting words in her ears as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes, before traveling to her chin.

  “Oh, Vernon…”

  He moved within her slowly at first, answering each move of her hips with a thrust of his own, until her gyrations outdistanced him, driving him at a pace he never thought possible. Her heat drove him mad. The sounds escaping her lips forced his rhythm to a fevered, almost animalistic pitch. The feel of her skin next to his was enough for him to cry out his own pleasure. She didn’t bother to cover his mouth.

  She reached for him, pulled him in for a passionate kiss that started with swift explorations and ended with total abandon as his hips rose and fell to a rhythm she had started, but he had every intention of ending—but not soon. Lord, not soon!

  “My woman,” he whispered against her hair. “Still mine!” A smooth liquid thrust balanced each word. “God, I missed you…I missed this…”

  She sobbed, pressing her cheek to his, whispering to him a single word of admission, “Yesssssss. Oooooooh, yesssss.” Her voice broke and with it, her body shook with a force that threw him. “Yes!”

  With that one word, he went over the edge, spilling his seed into her in short, hard bursts that made breathing impossible, thinking impossible. Saying anything except, “Brandi…” became impossible.

  Spent and satiated, Vernon lay next to his wife, relishing the flush of color in her face, the satisfied look in her eyes, the small smile playing about the red lips that he couldn’t resist kissing again.

  “It has never been like this for me…”

  Her smile widened broadly, letting him know she understood exactly what he meant, without saying a word. She pulled him to her breasts, offering comfort every cell in his body craved, but he had no right to enjoy. Could she forgive him? Really? Could she love him again? Or did loving her unconditionally mean letting her go? As much as it pained him to answer that last question, he knew the truth. He could push all he wanted, but Brandi would decide their future—and making love would not influence her one bit. It only fed their immediate needs—a need that was deeper than he imagined.

  The rain had stopped pelting the window long enough for the moon to make an appearance. Moments later as she cradled him at her breasts and his lips sought solace in the warmth of the soft mounds, the world around him swirled into a sensual explosion of her taste, her scent, her feel, her sound. Reality and responsibility drifted away at the sight of her trying to catch her breath and for the first time since whenever, Vernon fell into a dreamless sleep.

  He didn’t need to dream. He had one right in his arms.

  CHAPTER Fifty-Six

  Tanya scouted out the Jaunal mansion on Cherokee Road. If anything had changed about the place she couldn’t tell by the outside. But a lot of things had changed about Social Circle. Burger King and Papa’s Pizza now graced Cherokee Road, along with the Blue Willow Inn. The Clegg Family’s Farm & Home Supply was still around, not too far from Cotton Bale Antiques. Even O’Kelley’s BBQ and Breakfast was the same as she remembered. The gas station on the O’Kelley’s property had burned down at some point, but somehow they’d never seen fit to rebuild it.

  She had been sitting in the rental car over an hour, confronting old memories and gathering strength. She would meet with the D.A. later that day.

  Then she saw her, the old decrepit woman bent over the flower bed in the front of the place.

  The woman’s face had taken on a miserly look that in no way resembled the well-kept, well-coiffed woman Tanya remembered. Margaret had aged in just the few days since she’d seen her. And she hadn’t looked too good then.

  A knock on her car window made her heart jump. Tanya’s gaze locked on another older woman with whisper-thin hair and gray eyes. Her wrinkled skin was the only thing that might have told her age.

  “Hey, aren’t you Tanya Jaunal?”

  Tanya couldn’t speak as she tried to put a name to the face.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed as she repeated, “Aren’t you Tanya?”

  Tanya still hesitated, but was inclined to shake her head.

  “Oh, don’t bother denying it,” the woman said, brushing her off. “You look just like your mother.”

  Tanya finally found her voic
e. “And that’s supposed to be a compliment?”

  The woman’s thin pink lips spread into a soft smile. “I’m Mrs. Rankin. You used to play with my kids. Actually gave my Nathan a bloody nose for putting his hands in places he shouldn’t. Why don’t you come in for some tea? I’ll catch you up on your folks.”

  “I don’t want to know about them,” Tanya said bitterly, forcing herself not to look back at the place she grew up.

  “Oh hush. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

  Tanya followed Mrs. Rankin into her elaborate, but warm, wood-frame house. Two acres of land spread out behind it, and horses grazed in the pasture out near the pond.

  The woman placed a tray with the tea service and cookies in front of Tanya. Then she poured two steaming cups of orange tea. “Did you see all that commotion downtown?”

  “Yes,” Tanya replied. “There was a marching band and food vendors and everything.”

  “Ah yes,” she said with a grin. “The Annual Social Circle Friendship Festival.”

  Tanya took a bite of a shortbread cookie. “When did they start that?”

  “About eleven years ago.” The woman sipped her tea gingerly. “Well, your daddy just got out of prison last month and he’s already back in.”

  Tanya felt only a small sense of victory. If there was any way she could get them to look into the death of her sister, she’d make sure she did everything in her power to see to it that he got the maximum. Her mother, too.

  “Yeah, they strung him up for what his sorry tail did to you and your sister. And your mother’s family came in and snatched up everything he took from them.”

  Realization dawned on Tanya as the cup made it part of the way to her mouth. “So they’re poor now?”

  “The house is all she has and her health is failing.” The woman peered at Tanya through narrowed eyes. “She has a thirty-million-dollar trust—in your name. My husband was your father’s lawyer. He told me that no one can touch that money without your signature or proof of your death. Even your sister’s trust reverted to you so that no one could come after Margaret or Wilbur for the money.” The woman looked out of the window to the Jaunal mansion, grinning. “My husband said it was a darn shame your mother couldn’t find you. I told him you’d come home when the time was right. He’s not alive so I can’t tell him I told you so.”