Read Mistress No More Online

Authors: Niobia Bryant

Mistress No More (7 page)

She stepped back enough to open the lightweight fiberglass door. “Hi,” she greeted him with a smile, looking at him. He was the same height as she was, with one of those round, boyishly cute faces and a round belly that spoke of his love of food.
“I hope I wasn’t interrupting you, but some of your mail was in my box,” he said, his voice kind of raspy like he could sing the hell out of a smooth slow jam.
“No, no problem. Thanks,” Jaime said, taking the mail from him with one hand and extending the other. “Jaime Hall—well, soon to be again Jaime Pine.”
He engulfed her slender hand in his as he smiled, two huge dimples filling his round cheeks. “Divorce?”
Jaime nodded. “Soon. Hopefully very soon.”
“Me, too,” he said, holding up his left hand to show his bare ring finger with just a lightened area where his wedding ring used to sit.
They fell silent.
“Thanks for the mail,” Jaime said, sifting through the stack of mainly advertisements and credit card offers.
“No problem. Glad to be a good neighbor.”
Jaime looked up, her eyes shifting past him to the silver pickup truck parking behind her Volvo. Her face showed her surprise and Lucas turned to look over his shoulder.
Pleasure climbed the brick steps with ease, dressed in a black shirt and black slacks, his thin dreads pulled back from his face, looking sexy as shit on his tall muscular frame. Jaime lost her breath as she eyed him with a smile. The stance of her body changed as she leaned in the doorway and she arched her breasts forward just a bit more.
“I see you have company,” Lucas said.
Jaime barely heard him as Pleasure breezed right past the man, his height dwarfing her neighbor easily. “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, looking up at Pleasure in all his handsome glory.
“I couldn’t get you off my mind,” Pleasure said. “Busy?”
Jaime shook her head. “Not anymore,” she told him, her body already reacting to him in just pure anticipation of the dicking down he was about to deliver.
“So I’ll just be going,” Lucas added.
Pleasure picked her up with one arm and held her body close to his, pressing his smooth lips to her neck. “Damn, you smell good,” he moaned against her pulse, pulling her into the house to solidly close the front door in Lucas’s face.
“Was the dough boy trying to take my spot?” he asked, carrying her into the living room.
“Who?” Jaime asked, sliding down his body to drop to her feet and kick off her heels.
“Fat boy at the door,” he said.
Jaime waved her hand dismissively, dropping to her knees in front of him. “Jealous?”
He chuckled. “You love this dick too much,” he said, all cocky and bold.
“Oh really?”
Pleasure unzipped his pants and worked to free his dick. “Really,” he said, tapping the thick tip against her chin and mouth.
Jaime moaned in pleasure, opening her mouth wide to unroll her tongue.
Pleasure stroked her tongue with his dick.
Jaime felt it growing hard inch by inch in her mouth.
“You the best at this shit,” he moaned.
Jaime laughed. “You taught me well,” she said, her voice muffled from her mouthful.
Jaime had already forgotten her neighbor, dinner at her parents’, and everything else as she got caught up in Pleasure’s heat.
Jessa Bell
I
may be many things to many people, but a fool isn’t one of them.
One advantage I’ve always had over other people is how observant and attentive I am. I miss nothing and hear everything. I listen. I see. I pay attention. I’ve been that way since I was a child. Really didn’t have much choice with a mother like mine, who meant it when she said to be seen and not heard.
And so I learned to pay attention and to listen well.
In fact, I knew that my lover was open to cheating on his wife—my friend—long before I knew he was open to having an affair with me.
And it was hard for me to miss that my lover was either still with his wife, still trying to get back with her, or had yet another mistress in his life. For damn sure, I wasn’t getting any extra time, or words, or dick play. Not at all.
Not once had he spent the night with me here in this house that was supposed to be our home.
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
A
ria 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 in 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.

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