by Nicole Casey
“You going out?” she asked dully and I sighed, remembering what I had to do.
“Yeah. Morris called for me to come in. Sounds like he’s having a slight panic attack.”
I grinned at her and she offered me a half-smile.
“Why don’t you come with?” I said on a whim. I had no doubt that my father would not be impressed if I brought her along but that somehow only sweetened the idea.
“I don’t think so. In fact, I think I’ll just turn in for the night.”
My heart began to pound as I stared at her.
“You know, Asha, we don’t need to live like this,” I told her softly. “We could be happy together.”
“No,” she said, a touch of misery in her voice. “I don’t think we could. Not when I can’t trust you, Rustin. Our entire marriage is a lie.”
Her shoulders were almost at her ears and a spark of anger shot through me. Was she going to make me pay for the rest of my life? I wasn’t sure I could live like this.
“I’m sure you’ve done everything right in your life, Asha,” I retorted. “I’m sure that you have never done anything on a whim. I’ve never lied to you, not once.”
She raised her head defiantly and scowled.
“You lied by omission.”
“Jesus, Asha, come on. If we’re going to do this, let’s do this wholeheartedly or not at all. What about your regrets? They don’t come back and bite you in the ass, do they?”
“I have no regrets,” she growled back.
“No? That’s not what it sounded like when your mother was talking about your past. It sounds like you’ve made mistakes too.”
Her face crumbled, turning almost translucent.
“How dare you?” she hissed. “You don’t know anything about me or my past! You can’t compare my history with yours!”
“You don’t know anything about mine either!” I exploded in exasperation. “You make up shit in your own head, based on assumptions and run with them without giving me a chance to explain!”
“You’ve had chances! All the chances. You did what you did because you’re selfish and in constant competition with your brother. You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”
“I care about you, Asha!”
Our eyes locked and she shook her head.
“No, you don’t,” she muttered but I thought I heard a waver in her voice. “You don’t.”
“Fine!” I snapped. “Believe what you want. I have to go.”
I spun to leave but Asha couldn’t resist a parting shot as always.
“Say hi to your whores.”
I whipped my head back around and scoffed.
“You see? This is what I mean! What whores? When have I ever given you reason to believe that there’s anyone but you? You tell me to do whatever I want but you’re jealous at the thought of it.”
“I’m not jealous. I couldn’t give a shit what you do!” Her voice had raised an octave and I knew she was lying. She cared. She had always cared.
Jude was right. I shouldn’t have given her space at all. I should have been on her constantly.
“No?” I asked, sauntering toward her. “You don’t care what I do?”
I stood before her, my waist at her face and she looked up at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes. All the frustration I had held onto from this situation overwhelmed me then.
“I can do whatever I want?”
“What are you doing?” she mumbled, sinking back against the chair. I straddled her leg, pressing my crotch against her chest and her mouth parted slightly as I reached down to caress her breast.
“Can I do this?” I asked, feeling her nipple harden beneath the material of her silk blouse. Had her tits always been this big? It had been so long since I’d gotten a chance to feel them although I’d spent many nights stroking myself to the thought of them in my mouth.
“Rustin, stop,” she breathed but she didn’t put up a single finger of protest as my hand slipped underneath to feel the hot skin of her breast.
My cock began to throb dangerous and without warning, I ripped the blouse away from her body, exposing her fully.
Asha gasped, her luminous eyes filled with interest and I realized I should have come at her a long time ago. She didn’t need me to give her time. She needed me to take her, to show her that she belonged with me, no matter her reservations.
“Rust…”
“Shh,” I murmured, taking my free hand to undo my pants. My shaft was rock-solid, inches from her mouth and she exhaled a hot breath before licking her lips.
One hand teased her nipple, the other, guided her silken head of hair toward my cock, which she suddenly took in with one long gulp.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned, feeling myself pulsating in the small of her throat. Asha’s hand reached up to massage my balls and I moaned again, fingers pinching at her taut skin so hard she gasped. It only fueled her desire and her stokes around my cock grew hotter and faster.
My fingers twined around her hair and she purred as I eased myself deeper into her throat. Her hands grinded against my sack as it grew hard and ready.
I tried to back away before I could release, the urge to bend her over the kitchen table overwhelming but it was too late and her mouth suctioned around me, drawing forth my orgasm before I could stop myself.
“Fuck!” I choked again, my palm slapping down onto the wood table as I struggled to maintain my balance, knees shaking.
Spasms radiated through my body endlessly, my toes curling inside my shoes. It was a miracle I didn’t fall face forward as Asha relentlessly sucked the juices from my body until there was nothing left.
Inside my pants, my cell phone began to vibrate and I groaned as Asha slowly slid her lips off my shaft.
“You should probably get that,” she purred. “It’s probably one of your—”
“Don’t you dare say it!” I growled at her but when I looked down at her face, I saw she was jesting with me. My face relaxed and I sighed, reaching down to pull up my boxers.
“Why don’t we pack this up and bring it to my room,” I suggested. Asha cocked her head to the side and looked at me curiously.
“I thought you had to go to the office.”
“Oh shit!”
I’d genuinely forgotten about my father and Asha giggled.
“Trying to ignore your duties, huh?”
“Asha, you’re the only duty I care about,” I told her, dropping to my knees and meeting her eyes. “I want us to have a real discussion when I get back.”
“I’ll probably be in bed when you get home.”
“My bed?” I asked quietly. She studied me silently for a long moment.
“Maybe,” she finally said and I decided that was the best I was going to get.
“I’ll be as fast as I can,” I promised. “Try to wait up for me?”
Her lips thinned slightly.
“Okay…”
I waited, sensing she wanted to say something else but my phone rang again. It had to be my father. Only he had timing this obnoxious.
“Hold that thought,” I told her, rising to yank up my pants and dig out my cell. To my surprise, it was Adare. I hadn’t spoken to him in almost three months.
“Hello?” I said, the surprise in my voice almost palpable.
“Are you coming to the office?” he growled without preamble.
“I guess I am,” I replied slowly. Asha studied my face, her eyebrows knitting. “What’s going on, Dare? Is everything okay?”
“If you’d hurry up and get here, you’d know it isn’t,” he retorted.
Again, I was hung up on and I stared at the cell for a minute, blinking slightly.
“What’s going on?” Asha asked and I shook my head.
“I have no idea,” I answered truthfully. “But I guess I’m about to find out.”
10
Asha
I sat for a long time after Rustin dashed from the house, my hands splayed on my belly.
Why had I let m
yself go there when I’d been so determined not to fall for his charms? I’d thought I was impervious to him by now but who was I really kidding? The combination of hormones and the buried desire I had for this man weren’t going anywhere. If I hadn’t sucked him off at the kitchen table, I would have sleep-walked into his bedroom and ridden him like an unbridled pony one night soon. It was all inevitable—especially in light of the baby news.
Geneva had been right—I was almost fourteen weeks pregnant. So far, she was the only one who knew about it and I had sworn her to secrecy even though she constantly warned me against it.
“I did the same thing, Ash, keeping it a secret. It’s not good for you and it’s not good for the baby.”
“I’ll tell him when I decide what I’m going to do,” I had told her. Geneva had barely been able to hide her appall.
“What do you mean? An…abortion?” she demanded, aghast. “Rustin will be devastated.”
I cringed at the word. No, I couldn’t entertain the idea of having an abortion. I wanted this baby, I knew I did but did I want it with Rustin?
“No…I don’t know. But no, not an abortion. Maybe…maybe adoption.”
I choked on the word, the thought of my firstborn gnawing away at me. God, how could I even consider that after the years of pain I’d endured for giving him up? Yes, I know that there was no way I could have provided him with the life he deserved but it didn’t make it any less painful.
“But why, Asha? You’re married, you’re rich. There’s no reason for you to give up your baby.”
She was right, of course and I knew I wouldn’t do that anyway. This time, I would do the right thing and leave—with my baby. I would raise him alone. That would be better than raising him with a liar father, wasn’t it?
But maybe I’d known even then that I wasn’t apt to go that route either. That night had been a long time coming. Even through all my dismay and confusion, the feelings I had for Rustin weren’t going away. I loved him, despite it all and I knew that he loved me too. I needed to get over my wariness and look to the future without holding a grudge.
We’re going to make it through this, I realized for the first time and glimmer of hope sparked inside me. I just needed to let go of all my anger and I think I just did.
As I sat staring at the hardening cheese on the cutting board, I heard the faint echo of the doorbell.
A glance at the time on the stove told me it was eleven o’clock. Alarm coursed through me and I inhaled and rose to my feet. I realized that I was topless and I skirted down the back hallway toward my suite to throw on a robe before hurrying back out to the foyer.
The echo of footsteps against the marble floor of the entranceway met my ears as I neared the door.
“May I help you?” The housekeeper demanded. Amber’s voice was like ice pellets and I almost felt sorry for the intruder.
“Ms. Preston?”
“Who are you?” Amber asked in her surly way. Her attitude was one of the reason’s I’d hired her. She took no shit. I ambled into the front entranceway as the man at the door flipped his badge.
Did that say FBI? It was hard to be sure.
“Special Agent George Vaniby, ma’am. Is Ms. Preston home?”
“I’m right here, Agent Vaniby.”
I stepped into view and took in the disheveled looking man who eyed me with too much appreciation. He was old enough to be my father.
“I’ve got this, Amber. Thank you.”
The housekeeper cast me a suspicious look before darting her eyes back toward the agent.
“Are you sure? I can stick around.”
“We’re good,” I insisted, a knot of dread forming in my gut. “Unless the agent would like something to drink?”
I looked at him pointedly and to his credit, the man shook his grey head apologetically.
“No, ma’am, thanks. I just need a few minutes of your time if you can spare it.”
“Sure,” I quipped. “Who needs sleep?”
It was meant as a joke but the agent didn’t crack a smile.
“Do you want to come in?”
“Yes please.”
I stifled a groan and gestured for him to follow. Whatever this was about, it was going to take longer than I wanted.
Still, when the FBI comes knocking, I have no choice but to answer.
“What’s this about?” I asked, smothering a yawn. I was tired. I’d forgotten how draining a child could be on your body.
“I want to apologize for disturbing you so late,” Agent Vaniby said and I could tell he’d rather be sleeping too. “But you’re a very difficult woman to get ahold of.”
I blinked at the statement.
“Am I?”
“I’ve left several messages with your assistant and yet here I am.”
I had no idea what he was talking about and said as much.
“I’ve never received any message that the FBI was looking for me. Did you ever come here?”
During normal hours?
“Well…” he cleared his throat and looked around uncomfortably. “The idea was to catch you alone and I’ve noticed that you keep an unpredictable schedule.”
The hairs on my arms rose.
“May I see your identification again, please?” I muttered, suddenly wondering if I’d let a stalker into my house.
“Of course.” He paused to retrieve his wallet, offering me a tight smile as I reread his credentials. It looked legit but who knew? Anyone with a laser printer could make passports these days.
Tersely, I handed the card back to him and peered at him with hardened eyes.
“Why are you keeping tabs on my schedule?” I demanded coldly.
“We’re not,” he assured me quickly. “We’re keeping tabs on your husband. That’s why I’m here now. I wanted to ensure he was out of the house.”
Time stilled for a moment and I stared at him, unsure of what to make of that.
“Why?”
Again, Vaniby exhaled and sank back into the couch.
“Ms. Preston, I’m going to assume that you genuinely know nothing about what is happening in your father’s company, despite the amount of time you spend there and the fact that you have continuously ignored my requests to speak with you.”
I bristled with defensiveness.
“I just told you, I had no idea—”
“And I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt,” Vaniby interrupted magnanimously.
“What about my father’s company?” I demanded. “Did something happen?”
“We’re looking into a number of crimes associated with JPR Limited including embezzlement and money laundering.”
I snorted derisively.
“You must be joking. My father is a businessman, not a mob boss. Money laundering. Good grief.”
I sounded like a thirties flapper in my confusion.
“I understand your skepticism. It’s hard to see when people you care about are into shady business.”
“You’re out of your mind,” I said flatly. I had no idea where this had stemmed from but he was insane if he thought I was buying into this at all.
“I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have sound evidence to the matter,” Vaniby insisted. “Trust me, I don’t take any pleasure in bringing this to you.”
“What evidence?” I was furious. “If you had evidence against my father over something like this, you would have arrested him!”
I had no idea how accurate that was. My experience with the law was limited to “Law and Order: SVU” reruns. What the hell did I know about how the FBI operated?
“We don’t think your father has any knowledge about what’s happening.”
Again, I was stuck blinking at him, feeling quite a bit like a deer in headlights.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I demanded, growing frustrated. “What are you doing here then?”
“We think your husband is the one responsible for the theft and laundering.”
Air fell out of my lungs so ha
rd and fast, I thought they were going to collapse.
“W-why do you think that?” I managed to rasp.
“These issues rose on our radar almost as soon as your father merged with Sphinx and Sons.”
I snorted.
“First of all, I don’t even know what issues you’re talking about,” I snapped. “Secondly, even if what you say is true, you better have more evidence than timing.”
Even I knew that alone wouldn’t hold up in any court.
“Ms. Preston, I know this is your husband we’re talking about but this is not the first time that Sphinx and Sons has been in our line of sight. A few years ago, we had to investigate some very disturbing allegations of drug smuggling, the company being used as a front.”
“What? When?” I demanded. I’d certainly never heard about Sphinx being under investigation for anything. I know my father wouldn’t involve himself in a business with that kind of shady past.
“If I could be frank, Ms. Preston, I don’t think I need to tell you how easy it is for men like your father and Morris Sphinx to cover up a scandal. But I assure you, it happened. And your husband was in the center of it.”
Ice was in my veins.
They changed the paperwork on a marriage license, didn’t they? What else could they do if they wanted to?
No. I couldn’t just take his word on the matter. I wouldn’t believe this stranger, telling me about my husband, the father of my unborn child.
The man who tricked you into marrying him. The one whom you won’t even tell you’re pregnant. The same guy you were considering leaving a few hours ago before he charmed his way back into your throat.
Fuck me.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Agent Vaniby.”
“Just your cooperation, Ms. Preston. As Rustin’s wife, you’re in a unique position to learn intimate details about his comings and goings.”
I gaped at him and laughed mirthlessly.
“You want me to spy on my own husband?” I choked. “Are you crazy?”
“Are you worried he might retaliate? He has an assault charge so I can understand why you might be reluctant.”
My eyes almost bugged out of my head.
