Like me.
The man who got his GED at twenty and hadn’t finished his first year of college until twenty-six—three years after becoming a sought after manwhore.
And now years later, he was still growing beyond who he used to be.
G: HAVING YOU IN MY HOME BUT NOT MY BED WAS A BIG TRIUMPH FOR ME TODAY. IM FUCKING PROUD OF MYSELF. YOU JUST DON’T KNOW. LOL.
“Oh, I know,” Jaime said aloud, thinking back on the last time she’d seen him just a couple of days ago.
She had walked around his loft in her bare feet and sifted through his art as she sipped wine and listen to Coltrane serenade them on his vintage record player as he cooked a seafood and vegetable dish for her. Graham had given up eating red meat ten years ago. And when she wandered into the kitchen to look around his towering body, he fed her a bite from the pan as their eyes met. Instantly her body had hungered for him instead as her nipples hardened and her clit begged for attention. From his touch. His lips. His dick.
Not once had they fucked in the two weeks, but the desire to do so lingered between them with a pulsing life all its own.
She admired his dedication to his continued recovery from a sexual addiction brought on by a desire to defeat a violation in his past. But she knew if he had just made one damn move to have her, she would have hungrily served up the pussy. Being lost in him all of her guilt and doubt faded to nothing.
G: I LOVE YOU. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. I WILL HATE THE MAN WHO WINS YOU. WHO CAN LOVE YOU WITHOUT A FUCKED UP PAST TO OVERSHADOW IT. MY GUT SAYS STOP THIS. DON’T DO THIS. I WONT LEAVE THIS WITHOUT SCARS BUT MY HEART SAYS HAVING YOU BACK IN MY LIFE FOR EVEN A LITTLE WHILE IS WORTH EVERY RISK.
She heard the front door open and close. She set her phone and her feelings for Graham aside just as Luc came down the hall and entered their bedroom, looking handsome in the handmade black shirt and slacks he wore with his beloved diamond jewelry.
“You’re up?” he said, removing his watch as he strode over to his walk-in closet.
“Silly dream,” she explained as she smoothed her hand across the silk scarf she wore around her hair as she rose to walk over and lean in the doorway.
He glanced at her with fatigue hooding his eyes.
“How’s the album coming?” she asked as he placed his diamond watch, necklace, and bracelet on the island before he began to unbutton his shirt. She stepped over to him and eased his hands away to finish the task.
“Which one?” he asked with a chuckle.
He had a lengthy roster of clients as A&R.
“When can you take a break?” Jaime asked, sliding the shirt off his strong arms.
He looked down at her. “Whenever you need me to,” he assured her. “You good?”
She folded the shirt and slid it into the container for items to be dry cleaned. “I’m worried about you. Not me,” she said with honesty.
“You know what would help me?” he asked from behind her as the sound of his belt hitting the floor echoed.
She looked over her shoulder. He was naked. Strong. Tall. Dick long. “What?” she asked, still feeling her arousal awakened by the texts and her memories of desire denied.
“I need to eat,” Luc said.
“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Okay. There’s some leftover shrimp in garlic butter from Spark’s—”
Luc shook his head and walked over to gently guide her to sit down on the padded leather bench in the corner where he normally sat to put on his shoes. He knelt as he eased the lace edge of her delicate satin slip up her thighs and spread her knees.
“Oh,” Jaime sighed as she thrust her hips forward and pressed a hand to the back of his head as he lowered it to suck the lips of her clean-shaven pussy.
She gasped and arched her back as he licked her clit with a moan. She raised one foot to the edge of the bench when he turned his head sideways to really get at her with his tongue. She shivered and rolled her hips, lowering her hands to open her lips and expose the fleshy bud to him. “Suck it,” she begged. “Suck it, baby.”
He did. With pursed lips. Slowly. In and out. Pushing her over the edge as he pulled on the swollen bud. Her explosion came quickly. It was hot and forceful as she cried out from the back of her throat, enjoying every moment of her climax.
Luc stood up and looked down at her through his barely open eyes as she released heaving breaths. “Good?” he asked with moist lips.
She nodded weakly, with her legs still spread open and her clit slowly pulsing.
He smiled and walked out of the closet, leaving her there just like that.
Jaime sat up, placing her elbows on her thighs as she dropped her face into her hands. Fatigue hit her hard. “Shit,” she swore, trying to get her shit together.
“Jaime.”
She awakened with a start and looked up from her hands to find Luc standing before her with a plush black towel draped around his still damp body. “You washed?” she asked.
Luc chuckled and bent to pick her up. “You fell asleep,” he said as he carried her out of the closet and across the room to lay her on her side of the bed.
Well damn.
She squeezed one of her plush pillows to her chest as she lay on her side. “What about you?” she asked, raising her head from the pillow.
“Nah, I’m good,” Luc said as he removed the towel to dry off. “I gotta get right back up at nine for that summit in Miami, remember? A nut would have me fucked up in that closet right along with your ass.”
“Just gone,” she joked. “Whoo.”
He tossed the towel into the bathroom and came around to the right side of the bed. “Trust me. I was tempted,” he said with a yawn and stretch.
Jaime reached to turn off the sconce and took the light from the room as he climbed into bed naked. “I will meet you at the door on my knees when you get in tomorrow night,” she promised.
“Word?” he asked.
She chuckled. “Word,” she agreed.
He spooned her and pressed kisses to her nape. They were delicious. Her smile spread easily, and her moan was of satisfaction. “Luc,” she warned.
“This helps me sleep,” he said against her nape before another round of warm kisses.
“Yes, I know, but it makes me hot and you have to get up in a few hours,” she reminded him as she reached behind herself to take his dick into her hand when his kisses continued.
“A’ight. My bad,” he said, covering her caressing hand with his own to stop her strokes.
“Too late,” she said, freeing his already hard dick to move quickly and straddle him in the darkness.
“Jaime,” he moaned as she massaged his dick with both her hands.
His hips thrust up.
The light came on and his hand was still extended from when he turned it on.
“I’ll make sure you get up,” she promised, working the tip as she released a drizzle of spit to coat him.
He cried out.
With her eyes steady on him, she bit her bottom lips as she rose onto her knees to guide her core down onto him. She gasped and whimpered at the feel of him filling her. She leaned down to suck his mouth into hers, pressing her hands to the side of his face as she began to move her buttocks and send her tightness up and down his inches.
He sucked her tongue and extended his arms to fill his hands with her buttocks.
She broke their kiss to look at him, getting lost in their heat and his eyes.
“I love you, Jaime,” he whispered to her as they moved their hips in unison. Slowly.
And it was there in his eyes causing her heart to swell. “I love you, Luc, don’t ever believe I don’t love you,” she whispered, speaking her truth before she kissed him deeply.
Together they worked for their climax and their cries mingled in the air around them as they clung to each other.
Almost desperately.
* * *
The next morning, Jaime and Luc left their condo and walked down the tiled hall together to the elevator. She smiled
as he held his phone with one hand and covered his mouth with the other to yawn. “You good?” she asked, reaching up to swipe a small piece of lint from the red V-neck lightweight silk sweater he wore.
“I’m still getting that head tonight or nah?” he asked.
She arched a brow and smoothed her waist-length ebony weave behind her ear. “I took care of you last night,” she reminded him as the clear doors slid open.
“Damn sure did,” Luc confirmed.
They shared a glance with smiles in their eyes before looking forward as he pressed the button for the lobby as the door closed.
Both of their phones rang.
“Jaime Pine,” she said.
“Luc Sinclair,” he said.
“The Tuckers had to reschedule the walkthrough from this morning to late this afternoon,” Katie said.
Jaime checked her watch. “Okay, Katie. Thanks. Does the team know?” she asked as the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened.
She glanced at the video vixen with long colorful nails, her surgery-enhanced body on display as she stepped on the lift in gravity-defying neon heels. She arched a brow and stiffened her neck at the appreciative glance the woman gave Luc.
“Hi there,” she said.
Jaime turned to face Luc. He was busy talking to Kendell and didn’t notice the woman. She smiled up at him. His face became confused. “Hold on, Kendell,” he said, before lowering the phone. “What’s up, baby?”
“Nothing,” Jaime said, choosing to be mature even though she wanted to childishly wiggle her weighted down engagement finger in the woman’s face.
Luc pressed a kiss to her brow before raising the phone and walking to the corner of the elevator. “I’m leaving now. Is the car downstairs yet?” he asked.
His step out of the gap between the two women left them to eye each other.
Jaime gave her a look that said “Sorry.”
The woman nodded in understanding and gave her a thumbs up.
The elevator slid to a stop at the lobby and Jaime watched the woman’s exaggerated walk away before stepping off before Luc. “If I fall asleep during the panel discussion it is your fault,” he said as they strode together across the lobby.
“She’s pretty,” Jaime said.
“Who?” Luc asked, sliding his phone into the pocket of the red slacks he wore.
She hitched her chin forward toward where the woman from the elevator was walking ahead of them.
“Miss Too Much?” he balked. “Too bad she doesn’t know it.”
“I think she knows it,” Jaime disagreed.
The uniformed doormen greeted them both with a nod as he held the door open for them to step out on the street.
Luc shook his head. “If she did, she would realize she doesn’t need all that,” he said.
“Or . . . she dresses to make herself happy,” Jaime said, surprised by the need to defend her. Men and their assumptions and judgments of women were tiresome.
They both looked as she climbed behind the wheel of a red Bentley.
“Really, I don’t give a fuck,” Luc said, looking down at her.
“You sure, Luc?” she asked.
“I’m fucking positive,” he assured her.
She wasn’t sure she believed him.
He walked over to his waiting car as the sounds of New York echoed around them. “Have a good day,” he said. “I’ll be back around eight.”
Jaime gave him a little finger wave as he climbed into the back of the car with Kendell waiting for him. She turned on her heel as she watched the vehicle ease into traffic. For the first time, perhaps ever, she found herself doubting the freedom Luc took as an executive in the music industry. He came and went without question from her. Was she a fool to trust him so blindly?
The way he trusts me?
To let her own infidelity lead her to not trust him was . . .
Hypocrisy.
She felt nauseous but wasn’t sure if it was the morning sickness she had thus far avoided or just being sick of her own bullshit.
Chapter 10
One week later
Graham leaned against the counter separating the waiting area from the tattoo area of Inked by Lola. He watched as one of his best friends finished up a rose tattoo on the nape of a customer who sat backward on a chair. He liked watching her work. Lola took her art just as seriously as he treasured his own.
When he first met the edgy beauty to get his first tattoo, he had been young, wild, and led by the head below his belt wanting to fuck her. She and her girlfriend, Kezia, had made sure he understood that dick was not their preference. Over the years they had become essential in his life. Kezia, now a hairstylist for celebrities with natural hair, kept his beloved locs healthy for over fifteen years and although he hadn’t gotten a tattoo in years, hanging out at Lola’s shop when he was in town was considered necessary. They taught him to be a better stripper when he first started, encouraged him to finally eat pussy—something he refused in his foolish youth—and were his biggest supporters about taking his art career seriously a few years ago.
Graham eyed the painting he did of them in a loving embrace that graced the rear wall of the colorfully decorated salon. It was through their suggestions to their celebrity clienteles that his prominence rose quickly. And when they wed a couple of years ago, he served as their best person at the small wedding ceremony held at their favorite restaurant.
He loved his lesbian friends and considered them family.
“Where you headed today?” Lola asked him in her raspy and soft voice as her client rose to examine her tattoo with a small mirror in her hand and the large mirror on the wall behind where she stood.
He gave her a smile that felt sheepish.
Lola grinned, deepening the small diamond piercings in her dimples. “Never mind. That’s a Jaime look,” she said, raising her hands to push her waist-length dark blonde dreads back from her face.
“Yoooooooo. It’s mad perfect,” her client said with her thick New York accent as she handed Lola the mirror. “I’m so glad my friend put me on to you.”
“Thank you, love,” Lola said, applying protective cream and a plastic barrier over the tattoo.
As she took the woman’s credit card for payment, Graham checked his time. He was supposed to meet Jaime at the Empire State Building and then grab a quick lunch with her at a street vendor—something he hadn’t done in years. “I gotta jet,” he said, rising to his full height.
The customer gave him an appreciative look and lick of her lips as she passed him on her way through the waiting area and out the door.
“Women still throwing pussy at you left and right?” Lola asked as she drummed her long black nails against the countertop. “You still ducking or what?”
Graham faked a basketball move like he was trying to shake off a defender to get a clear shot at the basket.
They laughed.
“You sure about starting things back up with Jaime?” Lola asked, ever protective over him and his heart.
He nodded. “I love her,” he declared.
“I know that,” Lola said as she nodded. “Is it enough? Is she over the past?”
He thought about it and all the frustration her jealousy and suspicions had brought their relationship in the past. “I can’t blame her though. That’s the thing. I fucking get it, you know? And we not really back together anyway, so it’s cool.”
“Okay,” Lola said with obvious reluctance. “Don’t keep her waiting then.”
He gave her a dimpled smile that he knew was a charmer. “Tell Kezia I’m sorry I missed her,” he said at the door.
“I will,” Lola promised with a wink as she motioned to her waiting customer that he was next.
Graham had left his truck at home because it was easier to navigate the hustle and bustle of the city’s congested traffic by foot, bike, or public transportation. He walked up the street and then jogged down the subway steps to pay his fare with an app on his phone. Once he stepped o
ff the platform to get on the F train with the throng of New Yorkers, he felt excited at seeing Jaime. To hear her laugh. For her to look at him with those beautiful eyes that hinted at the desire she had for him when their gazes would catch. To feel her touch that could make goosebumps race over his body.
And to fight his desire to sex her until she was sweaty and crying out his name as she clutched the sheets like she was holding on for life.
Graham!
From his seat by a window, Graham looked up when a tall man in his mid-twenties with a fitted cap, sweatpants, long-sleeved T-shirt, and bright red heels set a small radio and small bucket on the floor. The man cued up “Bad Mama Jama” by Carl Carlton. The subways were filled with talented people using the steady flow of commuters to showcase their skills and make money with tips from those willing to give. He watched in amazement as the young man, who announced his name was Domingo, danced, did splits, worked the pole, and solicited crowd participation like he was on stage and not on the F train.
Graham eyed folks. Some avoided him but most enjoyed the show and the diversion from the monotony of their daily commute. When the train pulled to the Thirty-Fourth Street-Herald Square stop he withdrew his wallet and pulled out several hundred-dollar bills. He bent to press them through the slot on the lid of Domingo’s bucket.
Domingo’s eyes widened as he watched him. “Thank you!” he screamed, blowing Graham a huge kiss before he spun and did a split as he exited the train with a chuckle.
He made his way across the people crowding the platform to jog up the stairs to the street. The sun was bright and the early fall winds were a little crisp but refreshing as he made the brief walk to the Empire State Building. He’d been commissioned to do a piece for a collector in Dubai and wanted a firsthand view of the iconic New York location.
Her Pleasure Page 13
