The Appraisal

by Brielle Montgomery

  Jayla rolled her eyes. “Don’t fucking play me, Derrick!” she shouted, against her better judgment. “Who the fuck else could it be?”

  “How the hell should I know?” he shot back. “Apparently, one of the other twenty million dudes on this planet with the name Derrick. When have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

  Jayla pursed her lips, not sure what to believe. Hell, Jasmine had pulled some foul shit before with Jocelyn’s baby daddy. Why wouldn’t she do the same thing with Derrick? Jayla remembered their confrontation in the hospital. Jasmine had been beyond pissed.

  “Look again, Jayla.” Derrick’s eyes were so sincere and his tone so compassionate as he spoke. “I promise that ain’t me, baby. You know me. I love you.”

  She watched the video once more, and his words seemed to shed light on the entire filmed episode. Suddenly, Jasmine’s moans seemed exaggerated, her orgasm seemed fake, and the grunts didn’t even reach the same depth as Derrick’s.

  Jayla stopped the video and lowered her eyes, shame and confusion like a rapid wave dragging her under. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shutting her eyes. She felt Derrick’s arms circle her waist and pull her in for a hug. She let the tears fall.

  He kissed the top of her hair and tilted her chin upward so her face was angled up to his. His kiss was meant to be comforting, but guilt had Jayla deepening the kiss. He was just too damn good to her. And she damn sure didn’t deserve it.

  Before long, they were naked, and Jayla sat in a chair and pulled him to her, then deep throated his massive dick until it tickled her tonsils. Fueled by Derrick’s moans, she flicked her tongue across his tip, using her hand to stroke the length of the shaft.

  “Oh shit!” Derrick had a fistful of her hair in his hand, and his grip tightened as she put her lips around him to suck once more. Knowing full well how to take him closer, she shut her eyes and let a low gurgling moan vibrate in her throat and pierce the air to comingle with his moan. She felt his dick tighten in her mouth, and in an expert maneuver, she pulled off, straddled his lap on the floor, slid it into her pussy.

  Jayla bounced her ass in his lap, letting her juicy pussy stroke his dick like her mouth had done for the past thirty minutes. She started fast, using her pussy muscles to tighten and mold herself against his length. Then she slowed, letting herself glide up and down at a leisurely pace, much like a stripper on the pole. She alternated speeds, huffing his name, leaning forward to press her titties against his taut chest.

  His arms snaked around her back to hold her in place, and he lifted his pelvis to press harder against her thrusts. “Damn, baby. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He was nearly singing the words, and hearing them had the spontaneous orgasm yanking her breath away. She felt his legs clench her thighs as he joined her, his sexy moans heightening with the release.

  They lay together on the living-room floor, drenched, and Jayla felt too sedated to think of anything or anyone else. She sat up when she heard a car horn sound, and gazed out the window. She saw what looked like Tracy’s car drive by. She started to get up to look closer but stopped when Derrick gently stroked her back. Sighing, she lay back down and snuggled in his arms.

  “Was that an apology?” he teased.

  Jayla laughed. “Yeah, something like that.”

  “I think I got something to take your mind off everything. I know you have a lot going on with your sister and the baby. It’s a little short notice, but why don’t you come with me to a retirement party at my job this evening? I didn’t want to go, but I feel I have to, and you damn sure need to relax and have some fun.” He slapped Jayla’s ass, and her lips curved in response. “Besides,” he went on, “if I have to sit through this boring-ass party, I’m going to need some eye candy.”

  * * *

  After driving home from a good fuck session, Jayla showered and started getting ready for the party. She slipped on a dress and turned in front of the bedroom mirror, hands on hips, forgetting all about the video Jasmine had sent and the possibility that Tracy was following her.

  The silk fabric of the dress had a bold orange and brown print, and the hem flirted at each knee and flared an inch or so higher on the sides. The halter formed a bow behind her neck, and the excess ribbon cascaded down her bare back, elegantly exposed by the hip-cut backdrop that gathered at her lower back. A handkerchief dress, the saleswoman had called it when she’d seen Jayla pause at the mannequin. Perfect for any formal or casual event.

  She did another 360 with a satisfied smile, watching the bend of the material with her movement. She figured she could easily play up the role as eye candy tonight. Hell, she didn’t mind being a distraction to the whole damn party. The attention would be fun. And she needed that tonight.

  Jayla opened her front door to check the weather. It was uncharacteristically warm out tonight. She eyed the streetlights casting a soft glow on the empty street. Somewhere, a window must have been open, because she heard the faint music of some game show playing on a TV.

  As she closed the door, Jayla didn’t know why she suddenly felt nervous about this party. After all, it was just Derrick. They were practically a couple, though neither had bothered to voice the label. She absently lifted a hand and fluffed up her hair, gave into the urge to lick her lips moist. She thought of the perfume among the clutter on her dresser, eyed the front door again and opened it in a brief debate. Maybe if she hurried . . . She stopped short when she saw a jet-black limousine cruise to a stop at her curb.

  The driver got out. He was a young black man dressed in a crisp uniform. He tipped his hat at her, rounded the back of the limo and, standing to the side, opened the back door. Derrick stepped out with a bouquet of roses in his hand, and Jayla’s heart all but melted in a puddle at her feet. She headed toward him, and when she got closer, she easily saw the appreciation in his eyes as he admired how her clingy dress fell over her curves and yet swayed with each brisk step.

  “Derrick.” His name came out in a sigh as she accepted the flowers. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

  “I know.” He grinned and leaned in to place a soft peck on her lips.

  She felt him finger the dangerously low neckline on the dress, felt his lips curve against her when she shuddered in response to the absent brush of his knuckle against her skin.

  “Your body is so responsive,” he murmured. “I’m starting to think you can’t handle me, Ms. Morgan.”

  Jayla’s gaze didn’t waiver. They both knew the simple statement was a dare, and damn it if he wasn’t right. Her body ached for his; his voice alone could coax her thighs open. She let her eyes fall to his lips before grabbing his collar and dragging his mouth to meet hers. His hand found her arm, and he gripped it.

  Peppermint. She savored the flavor of his tongue, used her own to caress the roof of his mouth, and swallowed his moan in response. His grip tightened on her arm, as if he was urging her to give him more or demanding it. She wasn’t sure which. But he seemed to be not only reigniting that deep, deep passion she’d long ago buried, but also altering it so that it brought her new sensations, ones that made her feel like a stranger in her own body. He sucked on her bottom lip, and she quivered. His body hummed against hers.

  It was Derrick who broke the contact first, pulling his face back to rest his forehead on hers. They remained quiet for a minute, their jagged breaths in perfect unison as they struggled to slow down.

  She spoke up first. “Come inside and fuck me, Derrick,” she said and let the request hang between them.

  He grinned. “Later,” he said. The one-word promise sent a tingle coursing through her body. His gaze lowered to her outfit once again. “First, let’s get to this party. And I’ll work on not fantasizing about you and this sexy dress.”

  Jayla laughed, torn between relief and flattery, at his statement. “Fair enough,” she agreed. She released his shirt collar finally and made a weak attempt to smooth out the wrinkles.

  Derrick led her to the limo, and she eased
into the back seat first. The thick smell of clean leather and the soft jazz playing created an inviting ambiance. Once the limo pulled away from her house, Derrick poured them both a flute of the complimentary champagne.

  By the time the driver had guided the limo through the downtown traffic and pulled up to the curb of the upscale hotel, Jayla was thoroughly relaxed. The mixture of the champagne and her sexy-ass companion had her hazy mind on all kinds of explicit sexual activities she hoped to engage in later.

  She stepped from the limo and possessively laced her arm through Derrick’s. She inhaled that crisp signature scent of his, a combination of grapefruit, saffron, and redwood. The subtle seduction had her thighs tingling, and she leaned in closer, intentionally rubbed her nipple under the flimsy material against his forearm.

  “Down, girl,” Derrick teased. “You keep that up and we’ll be leaving before we get in here.”

  The stepped inside the hotel lobby, the concierge directed them to the escalator, and they headed up to the ballroom on the second floor. The planning committee had really gone all out, fully decorating the elaborate ballroom with black and gold balloons, streamers, and banners. Matching centerpieces and tablecloths adorned each of the round tables throughout the room. A DJ was playing some old-school mix, prompting a few people to two-step on the lit dance floor.

  A white guy walked up, his scruffy beard, large glasses, and Dynasty cap a glaring juxtaposition to the creased slacks and the button-up he wore. “Hey, Derrick.”

  “Wilson,” Derrick said. “How you been?”

  “Good, good.” Wilson’s eyes grew behind the glare of his glasses when he turned to gaze at Jayla. “Seems you’re doing pretty good too, man,” he said, gawking.

  Derrick grinned and slid his arm around Jayla’s waist. “Something like that,” he said. “This is my girl, Jayla. Jayla, this is Robert Wilson. He works in the IT department.”

  Wilson stuck his hand out to shake Jayla’s hand. She accepted, and he gave her a flirtacious kiss on the top of her hand. She couldn’t help but smile both from Wilson’s gesture and the fact that Derrick had so casually tossed out “my girl” when introducing her.

  “You sure got you a good-lookin’ one,” Wilson said, still clutching Jayla’s hand. “Would it be too much to leave this one and come home with me, Jayla?”

  Jayla pretended to ponder the proposition. “I don’t know, Wilson,” she said. “It’s tempting, but I think I kinda like this one. Better hang on to him for a minute.”

  Wilson winked and smiled, his curved lips nearly hidden beneath the beard. “Smart too,” he commented. He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to go through the rest of my life in a depression since I can’t have you.”

  “Or you know you can go home and crawl in bed with that beautiful wife of yours,” Derrick said.

  “I know,” Wilson teased. “That’s why I’m headed to the bar now.”

  Jayla couldn’t help but laugh. The man was a character.

  Wilson gave Jayla’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Absolute pleasure meeting you,” he said and turned to Derrick. “D, you keep a hold on this one.”

  Derrick acknowledged a few more people as they made their way to the buffet table lining one side of the room. Trays of wings, fruit, sandwiches, and pasta were arranged on either side of the table, and at one end was a multitiered cake fashioned in the shape of a clock.

  “They really go all out for these types of events, huh?” Jayla observed.

  “Ronald, the guy who is retiring, is one of the lead executives,” Derrick said, handing her an empty plate. “You kind of have to show up. Hell, I think most people are here because they’re actually glad to see him go.”

  Jayla laughed and began filling her plate from the various selections. She spotted Tara first, and the quick moment of confusion gave way to recollection. Damn, she’d forgotten Kevin and Derrick were coworkers. Thankfully, Kevin hadn’t reached out to Jayla in the past few days. Perhaps he was really done with their little affair. Jayla forced a grin when Tara spotted them and began making her way through the crowd.

  “Hey, you,” Tara greeted. She glanced from Derrick to Jayla, unable to hide the amused smirk. “I wondered if y’all would finally come out of the closet, with all the hush-hush.”

  “Good to see you again too, Tara,” Derrick teased. “Where is Kevin?”

  Jayla lowered her eyes as Tara threw an absent glance to the crowd.

  “Who knows? Probably over at the bar.”

  Derrick leaned over and pecked Jayla on the cheek. “Let me go find us a table,” he said and left them alone.

  Jayla felt suffocated by the awkwardness of the situation, but Tara didn’t seem to notice her rising discomfort.

  “Girl, I feel like we haven’t talked in forever,” Tara said. “I know you’ve been busy under Derrick, but damn, you can come up for air for a minute and talk to your girl. How’s your sister doing?”

  “She’s okay.” Jayla inched along with the buffet line, not bothering to grab anything else.

  “She still upset?”

  “Yeah,” Jayla said with a shrug. “She’s not talking to Jackie. Damn sure not talking to me. We don’t know what to do.”

  More and more people crowded onto the dance floor as the DJ played a steady stream of popular R & B hits. A combination of sweat and too much perfume permeated the ballroom, thanks to the upbeat music and the gyrating bodies. Jayla maneuvered through the throng of people and saw Derrick and Kevin at a table toward one corner. She paused, eyeing Kevin’s lips as he spoke, studying Derrick’s brow as it creased in reaction to what had been said. Then both men laughed and threw back a shot.

  Tara spoke up first when they joined the guys at the table and took a seat. “What are you boys laughing about?”

  Jayla didn’t look up from her plate, but she felt Kevin’s eyes on her.

  “Nothing important,” he said, grinning. “Hey, Jayla.”

  Jayla took a sip of the wine from the glass Derrick had placed on her cocktail napkin, and nodded a greeting in his direction.

  “I hear you and D here are an item now,” Kevin went on. “That’s cool. Real cool. You got you a good one, D. How’s the baby, Jayla?”

  She flicked a scowl in his direction. She saw his eyes gleaming. He was obviously savoring her discomfort. She took another sip from her wineglass, let the tasteless liquid glide down her throat.

  Thankfully, she heard her cell phone ring just then. “Excuse me.” She forced a smile and, pushing back from the table, pulled her phone from her purse.

  As she retreated to the restroom, she took the call. “Hello?”

  “Hi. Is this Jayla Morgan?” The voice was clipped and completely monotone.

  Jayla frowned. “Um, who is asking?”

  “This is Ms. Bennett. I’m one of the nurses here at Regency Hospital.”

  Immediately, Jayla thought about Jocelyn. The last time she was at Regency was when she’d gotten the news about her sister’s accident. And the death of her nephew. “Is it about my sister?”

  “Um, no, ma’am. It is about your lab results. We’ve been trying to reach you for months now.”

  “Oh.” Jayla rolled her eyes as she stepped into the restroom. “Well, what’s the problem?”

  “Ms. Morgan, we would prefer to speak to you face-to-face, if that is possible.”

  “What is it?” she asked, panic causing her stomach to turn.

  “Uh, we would rather—”

  “Bitch, don’t call my phone with no bullshit,” Jayla snapped as she stood in front of one of the sinks. She cut her eyes to the woman who entered the restroom just at that moment. The woman saw Jayla and quickly stepped back through the door.

  “Ms. Morgan, can you please calm down?”

  “I’m calm. But you’re starting to piss me off. What is wrong with my lab results?”

  The woman paused, apparently unsure how to deal with the situation. “Your results came back . .
. slightly abnormal,” she said quietly. “We just want to retest you to be sure.”

  “Sure of what?” Jayla yelled.

  “We believe you have a sexually transmitted disease.”

  Jayla frowned. She remained quiet, waiting for more.

  “Ms. Morgan, are you there?”

  “Yeah,” Jayla said. She began to pace. This couldn’t be as bad as she was thinking. “Can’t y’all just give me a shot or something? I mean, I’ve had chlamydia and syphilis before. Write me a damn prescription and call it a day.”

  “Um . . . um,” the woman sputtered. “Perhaps we should schedule an appointment to discuss things further.”

  Jayla hung up, not wanting to hear anything else. It was big deal, or so she thought, so why was the nurse bitch trying to make it a big deal? Fuck her. Jayla pictured Kevin at the table, relishing the fact that she had caved and broken him off some pussy. Fuck him too.

  Jayla leaned over the granite vanity countertop, too embarrassed to look at her reflection in the mirror. How the hell had she gotten in this deep? And what the hell was she supposed to do about it? Right then it was as if Patricia’s words echoed off the empty walls. Take a break. If she could start over, she would. She needed a way out. A sign. A life preserver in the midst of this deep-sea bullshit.

  Kevin swung into the bathroom, that disgusting grin already planted on his sneaky-ass face. “I came to check on you.”

  Jayla didn’t bother looking at him, but she heard the restroom lock click into place.

  “Derrick’s worried. Tara’s worried.” His fingers brushed her shoulder and trailed up to tangle in her hair. He made sure to rub the bulge of his pants against her hip as he stood behind her. “I’m worried,” he whispered.

  When he reached for Jayla’s arm, she snatched it back in disgust. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she spat.

  Kevin exaggerated a pout as he put a dramatic hand to his heart. “Now, that hurt my feelings. Why are you acting like what we shared wasn’t special?”