And when Graham stood with his hands in the pockets of his lightweight black pea coat, he looked out at the metropolis from his spot on the enclosed observation deck of the 102-story Art Deco building. The 360-degree view of Manhattan was a powerful sight with the noonday sun beaming high above the cluster of towering buildings. The only thing missing at that moment was Alicia Keys singing the chorus to Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind” . . .
“In New York,” a woman sang off-key.
The moment was too perfectly cliché.
He turned and smiled at Jaime standing there behind him.
“Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,” she continued to sing. “There’s nothing you can’t do.”
He bent at the waist to press a welcoming kiss to her cheek as he chuckled. “I was just thinking about that song,” he said.
Jaime stepped up to look out at the view. “It’s hard not to,” she said.
He looked down at her and then at the mustard wrap dress she wore with caramel leather heels. The scent of her perfume reached him. “Beauty should always be celebrated,” he said, studying her profile.
She looked up at him.
Such a simple gesture caused his gut to clench as if punched. Being around her made him feel rejuvenated. More alive than ever. The days in between seeing her were not the same. But he knew he was tempting fate.
“I don’t know how much longer I can test myself not to have you when I want nothing more than to bury myself deep inside you, Jaime,” he admitted.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth.
“Don’t,” he pled with her as he balled his hands into fists in his pockets to keep from reaching for her and pulling her body to his to kiss and touch. Right there in public. Not caring who watched.
She reached up to stroke his face. He noticed the slight tremble in her hand. He turned his head to kiss her palm. She gasped and took a deep swallow as she closed her eyes. “Graham, I have to tell you the truth, and it won’t be easy—but I have to. I have to—”
“Jaime.”
The hand on his face was withdrawn and Jaime turned her head as she took a step back from him. Graham was confused by the look of shock on her face. “Jaime, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Luc,” she gasped.
Luc?
Graham looked over at the man standing in the doorway glaring at Jaime—his Jaime—and then back at her as she walked toward him. “Jaime?” he said, frowning.
She paused and looked back at him. Her eyes were filled with alarm but also regret before she looked down as she massaged her temples with her fingertips.
The other man strode over to grip her wrist. “Where is your engagement ring?” he asked her.
“Luc, let me explain,” she said.
“You’re engaged?” Graham balked.
“And pregnant,” Luc added, giving him a hard glare for good measure.
Graham’s eyes dipped down to her stomach as he remembered thrusting inside her and filling her with his seed in Grenada. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” he asked.
“Who the fuck are you, dude?” Luc asked, moving Jaime behind him as he turned to face him.
“Who the fuck are you?” Graham said coldly as his anger swiftly rose.
“Her fiancé,” Luc emphasized.
Graham laughed, mocking him. “Shit, I can’t tell,” he said wanting to best him and knowing it was childish.
Luc took a large step.
Graham did as well, ready to end this man questioning him.
“No!” Jaime screamed, coming around Luc’s body to stand between them and press a hand to each of their chests.
He looked down at her and saw so many revelations in her eyes. Much more truth than she had told him. Another betrayal. He thought of the time from their past that he laid his love out for her and later discovered that she didn’t feel the same.
Who said anything about getting married?
He remembered overhearing those words she said to her friends when they mocked her for trying to have a serious relationship with a former stripper and manwhore. Words that had led to him leaving the party and contemplating the wisdom of even trying to build something serious with Jaime when she made it clear to her friends that she wasn’t.
He eyed her.
She was engaged.
She was pregnant.
And he knew from the look in her eyes that he might be the father, but she’d chosen this man—her fiancé—to even know she was pregnant.
Some light inside of him faded but the fire of his anger replaced it.
“You weren’t going to tell me that could be my baby, Jaime?” he asked, his tone cold even to his ears.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as her ears filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Graham.”
“What?” Luc roared.
His instinct was to give in to the visceral pain radiating through his chest at the sight of her hurt, but he pushed that aside. “Even now I’m not good enough for you?” he asked, revealing his annoyance, but not his wounded pride.
He gripped her hand and thrust it from his chest before he shook his head and walked off.
“You fucked him, Jaime? Are you fucking kidding me? When? Where?” Luc asked.
Graham heard the same anger he felt in the voice from behind him.
“Grenada,” Jaime admitted.
“The trip I paid for?” he roared.
Graham paused at that.
“Yo, you wildin’ right now, Jaime. Who the fuck are you? I don’t know you.”
Agreed.
Even as his heart pounded and his gut felt twisted from her betrayal, Graham slid his hands into the pocket of his jacket and turned to look at Jaime and her fiancé—the man she chose.
They stood a few feet apart, staring at one another. He was the interloper. He didn’t belong.
And the baby?
He frowned deeply.
It could be mine.
Jaime glanced past her angry fiancé at him. “Forgive me,” she mouthed, as a tear raced down her cheek.
He turned and strode away across the black tiled floor to reach the elevator. A small crowd was behind him and he felt them sneak glances in his direction as the metal doors opened and the elevator’s liftman opened the gate. He moved to the rear of the elevator and turned to see Luc walk away from Jaime as she reached out for his arm.
He was glad when the doors slid closed to free him from their drama, but he wasn’t as lucky with his anger. Nor his pain. He clenched and unclenched his jaw.
No, no, no.
The elevator slid to a stop as he remembered how quickly her hot passion had turned to panic in Granada. With quick strides, he made his way across the towering Art Deco lobby.
“Let me down. Let me down. Letmedown. Letmedown,” she’d said as she pushed to put distance between them.
He reached the doors to exit and stepped out onto West Thirty-Fourth Street. Even with the blares of cars horns, the rumbles of buses, and the shrill echoes of police sirens filling the air, he heard nothing but Jaime’s words that day: “I have to go.”
It reverberated. Mocking him.
“I have to go. I have to go. I have to go.”
“Man, fuck her,” Graham muttered as he took long strides up the street. He wished he’d ridden his bicycle instead of catching the train because right then he could use the distraction of navigating traffic to keep his mind off possibly having a child with a woman he . . .
His steps faltered.
What?
Graham didn’t know what he was supposed to feel for Jaime, but his heart betrayed him because hate for her did not exist. Still, he wanted his feelings for her to be gone, not claimed.
I might have a kid? With Jaime—who is not my Jaime. Who is engaged to be married to another man? And pregnant by either him or me.
“Shit,” he swore, wishing like hell he had never laid eyes on Jaime Pine again.
* * *
Rewind . . .
“I
love you, Luc, don’t ever believe I don’t love you.”
It was those words that Jaime whispered to Luc before she kissed him deeply that bred suspicion. It wouldn’t leave him. To him, it had been an odd way to proclaim love.
The night she came home brimming with lust after the art show had already sent his “Spidey Senses” into overdrive and now his instincts told him he was right.
Something was off.
In the past, relationships hadn’t been his thing. He used to keep numerous beautiful women on speed dial to savor his lifestyle and they had always taken great care in showing him just how much they appreciated the time behind the velvet rope.
And then he met Jaime, and everything changed. His wants. His desires. His relationship goals.
He’d never thought when he finally settled down that he would be the kind of man to check on his woman. Snoop. Invade. Never.
Until that morning.
From his office in Midtown, he looked through hours of footage in their condo and watched the woman he loved for any sign of what his gut was telling him was trouble in paradise. And then there she was in color scrolling through her phone and alternating between smiles, sighs, and tears before she made a call and told someone she would meet them at noon at the Empire State Building.
He’d barely been able to focus on his meeting as he wondered just who that someone was.
Finally, he knew to have peace of mind he would take off down the slippery slope and go check on the activities of the woman he loved. His fiancé. The mother of his unborn child.
His stomach felt twisted like a pretzel as he rode the elevator up to the observation deck on the 102nd floor. The doors opened. This twist unraveled to be replaced with something similar to a kick. He frowned at Jaime—his Jaime—with her hand pressed to the face of another man as she looked up at him with her emotions etched in her face and her eyes.
The man turned his head to kiss her palm.
A gesture he had done many times himself.
The fuck.
Luc felt as if the world as he knew it crumbled into a thousand pieces at that moment. There was no denying there was something between Jaime and this man. A connection. That was clear even without him hearing what they said to one another. The steps he took to stand in the doorway felt heavy as shit. “Jaime,” he said in disbelief, hating that he hoped there was a better explanation than what he clearly saw.
She dropped her hand and stepped back as she looked over at him.
In shock.
In guilt.
In conflict.
Damn.
“Luc,” she gasped, as she walked over to him.
“Jaime,” the stranger said, his voice deep and confused.
She stopped and looked back at him.
That tore at his chest like the scratch of a bear’s paw.
She looked down at her feet and brought her hands up to massage her temples.
His eyes widened at her bare hand. Another vicious lash. He walked over to her and grabbed her wrist. “Where’s your engagement ring?” he asked, stuck somewhere between anger and hurt.
“Luc, let me explain,” she said.
Explain what? That you’re cheating on me?
“You’re engaged?” the stranger asked.
Luc glared at him wanting to smash his fist into his face. “And pregnant,” he emphasized.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” the stranger asked as he stared at Jaime’s stomach.
Wait? What?
His heart raced and dread began to sink into his bones.
“Man, who the fuck are you, dude?” he asked with a cold snap as he put Jaime behind his back.
I don’t know him. Does he know me?
“Who the fuck are you?” the stranger asked.
No, he doesn’t.
“Her fiancé,” Luc said.
So you the side dick.
Side dick. My woman got another man. This got to be a fucking nightmare.
The stranger laughed at him. “I can’t tell.”
This motherfucker . . .
Luc took a step to fulfill his desire to knock him the fuck out for violating. He kept his eyes on him, ready to fight, and not caring that the man had a few inches on his tall height. Fuck it. Do work.
“No!” Jaime yelled, pressing her hand to his chest.
He shook his head as he looked down at her hand on the chest of the other man as well.
Another hot and searing lash.
“You weren’t going to tell me that could be my baby, Jaime?”
The final blow.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Graham.”
Her tears meant nothing to him as it settled in that not only was she unfaithful but the child she carried—the one they were preparing for—might not be his.
“What?” Luc roared.
He felt ignored as they stared at one another.
“Even now I’m not good enough for you?” Graham asked, his voice cold before he removed her touch from his chest and walked past them to leave the observation deck.
She stepped over to watch him leave and he saw in her eyes that she wanted to go behind him.
Fuck that.
“You fucked him, Jaime? Are you fucking kidding me? When? Where?” Luc asked, stepping in front of her to block her view of him.
She shook her head as if to deny his request, but then answered. “Grenada,” she said as more tears welled in her eyes.
He felt a coldness overtake him that could rival the frigid chill of a blizzard. “The trip I paid for?” he yelled, not caring of the eyes they drew with their drama on full display.
She nodded and closed her eyes.
“Yo, you wildin’ right now, Jaime. Who the fuck are you? I don’t know you,” he surmised as his anger twisted his lips.
She looked up at him. He cared nothing about the pain and regret he saw in the brown depths. The façade was gone.
Take a bow, Jaime.
He looked past her to the skyscrapers surrounding them. He wondered so many things but had had his fill for the day. He looked down at her. She was looking beyond him. He didn’t need to turn, knowing her lover was her aim. He shook his head. “Stay the fuck away from me, Jaime,” he said, letting the coldness he felt seep into his tone.
“Let me explain, Luc,” she said, reaching for his arm.
He snatched from her grasp. “Explain what? What the fuck could you possibly say?”
“He’s my ex,” she said.
“And?” he balked.
“We had something—”
His hand slashed the air. “Nah, y’all got something,” he spat.
“You don’t understand, Luc,” she said.
“And I no longer give a fuck,” he said. “You took everything we had this last year and some change and pissed on it.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” he asked.
“Hurting you,” Jaime admitted. “I didn’t handle this right and for that, I apologize. I truly apologize for not dealing with my feelings in the right way.”
That stung the wounds already left open and exposed by her betrayal.
“Your feelings for him?” he asked with a sarcastic smile.
She licked her lips and locked eyes with him. “For loving both of you,” she admitted as she held up her hands as if useless in her choices.
“I need to be away from you, and I need you to stay the fuck away from me,” he said. “Find out which one of us is the father and let me know. Other than that. This shit right here—us—is done, Jaime. I need somebody I can build with. Not somebody stabbing me in the back.”
“I haven’t slept with him since Grenada,” she offered.
He eyed her in contempt. “You think that matters?” he asked, with a scornful shake of his head.
“Yes,” she affirmed. “Seeing him was about closure, not starting something new.”
“And what was fucking him in Grenada about?” he asked snidely.
He eyed her with contempt. “Good to know I paid for you to get fucked.”
“It wasn’t just about sex, Luc,” she said, her eyes showing her conflict.
Love.
For loving both of you.
He looked down at her hand. “Is he the reason you never would set a wedding date?” he asked.
She shook her head, but again, her eyes betrayed her, the same way she deceived him.
“I never thought you would be this kind of—”
“Kind of what? Bitch? Whore? Slut?” she asked. “Don’t call me out my name, Luc.”
He released a full belly laugh before he turned and walked away.
His steps weren’t long enough and fast enough to put distance between them. The desire was so urgent that he took the stairs and ate a dozen or more flights up easily before he regretted the decision. “Shit,” Luc swore, placing his hands on his hips as he paused on the landing to take in gulps of air.
Grimacing at his fury and indignation at her betrayal, Luc whirled to pound the side of his fist against the gray wall.
Later that night . . .
Jaime lay on the middle of the bed of her hotel suite on Fifth Avenue nearly curled into a ball. Her tears were spent, and her body was weak. She risked it all and lost.
She eyed her engagement ring sitting on the bedside table beside her phone.
Her truth was that she had not been ready to marry Luc.
And I should have been honest about that.
Her truth also was that she had deep and profound feelings for both. She was equally disturbed that neither would answer her calls. So, she stopped trying.
For now, she welcomed the solace.
After more than an hour on the deck looking out the glass at the Manhattan skyline, she had made her way to the nearest hotel. As soon as she reached her suite she had run to the bed and collapsed onto it under the weight of her guilt, shame, and heartache. She ignored all phone calls and kept replaying the scenes from atop the Empire State Building. There was no right to be found about her actions.
She knew that.
But I love them both.
She knew that as well.
I can’t have them both.
Even though they both fed a different hunger and desire in her, she knew that, too.
Her Pleasure Page 14
