Mistress, Inc.

by Niobia Bryant

  And she did. For myself and for this baby.

  “God, I thank you for your presence in my life and I thank you for not leaving me when I stumble on this path to living right. I thank you for forgiving me when people push me to do things I know I shouldn’t,” she continued to pray silently.

  And people were truly trying her by walking her last nerve with their judgment and reprimands. I’m sick of their fucking bullshit, she thought, wanting to choke nearly each and every one of her neighbors.

  She rolled her eyes in exasperation as she caught her cuss-filled thoughts. “Sorry, God,” Jessa mouthed, rising to her feet with everyone else as Revered Dobbins brought church service to an end.

  Jessa was one of the first to leave the church. She was all for going to church every Sunday and even catching a night of Bible study once every other week, but she had yet to get accustomed to the whole ritual of the church members gathering outside and looking to converse.

  Jessa was interested in getting the word, feeling a little closer to her Jesus, and going home. She wasn’t looking to make friends or pretend to listen to the ramblings of non-ministers who felt they were Christian soldiers.

  Before she got into her Jag, she removed the feathery fascinator that perfectly matched the dark blue fitted dress she wore.

  “Sister Bell.”

  Jessa made a face of annoyance as she heard her name called. She forced on a smile and turned just as one of the men from the church stepped in front of her. “Yes?” she said politely, tilting her head back to look up into his face. The man had to be close to six foot five.

  “I just wondered if you were coming back for the program?” he asked. “All of the groups coming in to sing are really good. I thought you might enjoy it.”

  Jessa opened her car door. “No, thank you. I have other plans,” she said.

  “I was hoping to see you there actually,” he said, stepping forward to hold her door.

  Jessa’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she looked at his large hands and then up to his face.

  “I thought maybe we could have coffee afterward,” he said.

  Jessa stiffened. “I can’t even come to church without getting hit on by married men? What the hell?” she muttered. “Look—”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not married,” he said. “If I was, I wouldn’t have approached you. I’m a man of honor.”

  Jessa laughed bitterly. “Are there any more left?”

  “Yes, plenty,” he said with the utmost seriousness. “But I get it. I find myself asking that about women as well.”

  “And that’s why you are ‘approaching’ a former mistress who is now pregnant with the baby of her married lover who tried to kill her before killing himself. And might I add, who is also suing the estate of her dead lover. That all just screams honor.”

  The man slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks in the tailored suit he wore. “Sounds to me as if you’re judging yourself. Not me.”

  Jessa leaned back against her car as she gave him a serious eye. Although he was as tall—and almost as wide—as a tree, he had the kind of big-man good looks that reminded you of Gerald Levert. The deep bronzed skin, the smooth black hair and goatee, the bright eyes and warm smile.

  Not the athletic type she was used to, but handsome. Still ...

  “Listen, I am just trying to get my life together and the last thing I need is someone else to answer to or worry about,” she told him with honesty.

  He smiled.

  Jessa’s mouth fell open a little bit at the sight of twin dimples as deep as wells.

  “I just wanted to go have dinner and talk a little bit. I wasn’t looking to propose,” he told her, raising his arms to cross over his chest. “Reverend Dobbins thought we had similar stories to share.”

  Jessa eyed him.

  “You’re not the only human being with sins.”

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Henry Lyons.”

  Jessa held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you,” she said.

  He undid his arms to take her slender hand in his. “Nice meeting you, too,” he said.

  “I guess I’ll see you in church next Sunday.” Jessa slid her hand out of his and climbed behind the wheel of her car.

  He eased a card from his pocket and reached around her still-open door to hand it to her. “If you just want someone to talk to or to pray with or lay some burdens on ... call me,” he offered.

  Jessa took the card with a smile and closed her car door. As she started the car and pulled away, she noticed a lot of the churchgoers had made their way out the doors and were watching them closely. She fought the urge to make a face at them all as she drove off the church grounds, leaving all thoughts of Brother Lyons and a prayer circle behind.

  Or at least she hoped she would.

  Love and everything it was or wasn’t for her changed so many times over the years of her life. Through her family and her relationships and friendships, the definitions or expectations of love had shifted.

  Running her fingers through the soft tendrils at her nape, Jessa steered her car toward Heavenly Rest Cemetery. But this time she made her way toward the rear of the property to Eric’s resting place. As she stood at the foot of his plot, she let all of the emotions she felt wash over her and flow freely from her and her mouth.

  “I hate you, Eric,” she began. “But I hate myself more for making myself believe that what we shared wasn’t the biggest mistake we both made. I truly believed that I loved you and I deserved you and we would make each other happy. But I was wrong. What we shared wasn’t love. But now I’m pregnant with your child, and what type of legacy have we created?”

  Jessa looked down at the metal marker of his dirt-covered grave. His headstone had not been delivered yet. Either Jaime wasn’t bothering with one or she ordered one custom. “I damn you to hell for trying to kill me. For making me this mess that doesn’t know if she’s coming or going. That could be me in the grave right now instead of you. I still can’t believe you wanted me dead, Eric.”

  She felt her heels sink into the grass surrounding his fresh grave and she shifted her feet. “But I won’t spend my life bashing you to our child. And that’s not because of you. It’s because I don’t want to bring a child up spoon-fed on hating you. I know how it feels, and I wouldn’t put any child through that.”

  Jessa sighed as she looked around at the gravesite. “Really, your widow could have chosen a better spot for you,” she said, looking over her shoulder as a car sped by on the road just beyond the wrought-iron gate. “You tried to kill me and I wouldn’t have stuck you back here in the hood.”

  “I know you are spinning in that grave because you didn’t have the foresight to change your will once she filed for divorce.” Jessa pouted her lips. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’re usually smarter than that, Eric ... but then again I would have thought you were too smart to kill yourself.”

  Jessa released another heavy breath. “She wouldn’t let me say good-bye to you at the funeral and so I’m saying it now. Good-bye, Eric. I know you are burning in hell and I am doing everything in my power to make sure I don’t join you there when my time comes,” she said in finality. “I will never forgive you for trying to take my life, but I do thank you for teaching me about lust and love and how to know the difference between the two.”

  With one last glance at his grave, Jessa made her way back to her car. With her free hand, she loosened the tight bun at the base of her neck, running her fingers through the loose waves of her jet-black hair as she steered her Jag toward home. Summer was coming to an end, and although Jessa loved the fall best, she lowered the windows of the Jag and let the summer breeze blow against her face as she drove.

  The last couple of weeks of her life had been chaotic. The press had just begun to leave her alone about the lawsuit. She was so tired of seeing Maria Vargas and her cameraman at random places she visited that Jessa didn’t know what to do.

  She remembered her
grandmother saying once that the emotions of a pregnant woman manifested in the baby. And if that was true, Jessa was planning to give birth to a crying bundle filled with stress, anxiety, and anger. She didn’t want that.

  Jessa reached for her cell phone and dialed Myra’s number. It rang three times and went to voice mail. “Myra, this is Jessa. Listen, I need a vacation. I know you have a busy week for me. But I need time away from everything. I need a break. No, no, I am taking a break. Just fix it. Fix all of it.”

  She hung up the phone and tossed it over onto her driver’s seat with her oversized tote.

  Maybe she would drive down to Pennsylvania to their cabin. She thought about all the grass and dirt and wildlife and frowned. The beautiful log cabin was deliciously delightful in the winter when everything was covered by snow. In the summer? Not so much.

  Okay, maybe a quick flight to Antigua? Jessa quickly pushed that thought away. Who wanted to do a beautiful romantic locale like that ... alone? Not me.

  Maybe a nice weekend in the Hamptons or Martha’s Vineyard?

  It really didn’t matter where. It just mattered to get away from Richmond Hills. The old Jessa reveled in the discomfort she brought to the lives of her ex-friends and neighbors by her very presence. But day by day, more of the old Jessa was disappearing and it was leaving her raw and exposed like the little girl who couldn’t understand why her mother left. She hated it.

  As she turned her Jag into Richmond Hills, she was surprised to see Keegan’s bright red hair poking out of the driver’s side window of a green convertible Volvo.

  Jessa actually felt happy to see the lively redhead. “Hey, Keegan,” she called out.

  She turned and spotted Jessa behind her before she climbed out of her Volvo and walked back to her in a deep purple jumpsuit and gold wedges. “Hey, sugar, I was just dropping by to check on you.”

  “I’m fine.... As a matter of fact, I’m in the mood for a mini-vacay. You game?” Jessa asked, following an impulse.

  “Am I ready to sleep somewhere besides the big empty bed my dog of a husband left me to rot in? Hell yeah. Let’s ride, Thelma. Louise is ready.”

  The very next day, Jessa and Keegan were in their bikinis and lounging on the deck of the small yacht they chartered to cruise around the Hamptons. The sun was beaming brightly. The smell of the ocean was refreshing. And Jessa felt good about being away from Richmond Hills.

  “I really needed this getaway,” Jessa sighed, stretching her limbs above her head to accept the crystal flute glass of apple juice spritzer the waiter presented her on a tray.

  Keegan smiled at him as she took her flute of champagne. “You have to remember to put that baby first. Plenty rest. Less stress.”

  “I know.”

  Keegan sat up on the lounge chair and eyed Jessa over the rim. “You must have a clit on you bigger than a set of balls to sue that estate, though.”

  Jessa shifted her head on the lounge chair to eye her from behind her oversized shades. “If Marc and Eric were alive and I tried to force Marc to take care of a child that I knew belonged to Eric, then I would be wrong. Why is it different because they’re dead?”

  “Oh, look here, honey, I agree with you. I just don’t know with all the press you’re getting if I would have the nerve to do it,” Keegan said, reaching over with her flute. “Cheers to you, darling.”

  Jessa touched her flute lightly to Keegan’s before taking a deep sip.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  Both ladies turned their heads and then lifted them to look up at the tall and broad-shouldered man standing above them in all white. He was the owner and captain of the chartered yacht. Tyson Hearst.

  Keegan pressed her full bosom forward as she smiled. “Hello, Captain.”

  He smiled as he shifted his eyes over to Jessa, who remained quiet. “Just call me Tyson.”

  “Nice strong name. Tyson,” Keegan said, seeming to let it drip off her tongue.

  “I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were enjoying the ride,” he said, again his eyes shifting to Jessa.

  From behind the cover of her shades she did watch him. He was just at six feet, but his frame was solid. His fairly light complexion reminded her of Marc, but it was there the similarities ended. His features seemed to be carved from stone. Everything except his mouth, which was sinfully soft and begging to be kissed.

  By a woman looking for that, Jessa added, turning away to gaze up at the sun.

  Suddenly, the brightness and the heat of the sun were blocked from her body. She licked her lips as she looked up at Tyson, who had moved to stand by her lounge chair.

  “And you, Ms. Bell, are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

  Jessa raised her hand to shift her shades up on top of her head. “Trust me, if I wasn’t, you would know,” she told him, lowering her shades.

  He chuckled. “Enjoy the rest of the trip,” he said, before finally walking away.

  “He wants you and he wants you bad,” Keegan said, turning her head to watch him walk away.

  “Since I don’t want random men nutting on the head of my baby, I don’t really give a damn who wants me,” she said with honesty, adjusting her strapless bikini top.

  “Darling, they haven’t made the dick big enough to breach a cervix,” Keegan drawled, finally settling back against her lounge chair. “If so, I wants no parts of it. Trust me.”

  Jessa just laughed.

  “Don’t you get horny?” Keegan leaned over to ask. “I mean, you have like six months to go and then another six weeks. Jesus, you’re gonna be a born-again virgin.”

  Jessa leaned over to dig in her straw tote. She pulled out a satin-lined velvet bag and tossed it onto Keegan’s lap. “I don’t leave home without it.”

  Keegan’s mouth fell open as she pulled out the glass dildo. “Oh my Lord,” she said in wonder. “It’s so smooth.”

  Jessa laughed as she leaned over to take it back. “And the Lord doesn’t mind me using it one bit,” she said, turning the base to make it vibrate.

  Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

  “Oh my word. I need one of those in my life. ASAP!” Keegan roared.

  The ladies burst into laughter.

  “Ooh, I have to tinkle,” Jessa said, turning the vibrator off and slipping it into its sac before easing it back into her bag.

  “You sure you want to leave me behind with that thing,” Keegan asked, before sipping her champagne and arching her eyebrow.

  Jessa just padded across the deck barefoot and headed down below to her stateroom. Tyson was coming up the stairs and they met halfway.

  His eyes took in her curves in the low-riding bikini.

  Jessa figured she better enjoy her shape before the baby spread her like a weather balloon in the upcoming weeks. She already had a small, barely noticeable curve to her belly. “Excuse me, Captain.”

  He smiled—or smirked—as he pressed his back to the wall of the stairwell to allow her to pass.

  “If you’re in need of the real thing, I can help you out with that,” he called behind her.

  Jessa paused and turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

  “Your little toy,” he offered.

  Jessa felt herself flush with warmth, but she refused to show it. “I would have assumed your eyes would be on the path of this boat and not watching what your guests are doing,” she told him coolly as she walked back up to him.

  “You make it pretty hard not to watch what you’re doing,” Tyson countered.

  “If you’re looking for a fling, I can hook you up with my friend. She’s in the market. I’m not.”

  “I like my coffee black with no cream. No offense to your friend,” Tyson said, coming down two steps to look down at her.

  Jessa twisted her hair up into a loose top knot. “Well, again, I’m not in the market,” she said, turning away from him.

  “Are you married? Engaged? Taken? What?” he called behind her.

  Jessa turned again. �
��Are you conceited? Caught up in yourself? Unable to comprehend that someone’s not attracted to you? What?” she countered, placing her hands on her hips as she admittedly enjoyed the verbal back and forth.

  Tyson laughed as he came down the stairs quickly and backed her against the wall outside her stateroom. His eyes half-lowered as he watched her and then pressed his hands to her bare hips to lift her up.

  Jessa felt breathless from the chemistry between them. His hands were hot against her skin. She felt the bud of her pussy flutter to life and her nipples harden in a rush until they ached.

  Tyson brought his head down. “If you ask me to kiss you, I will,” he taunted.

  Jessa’s eyes dropped down to his lips and she fought the primal urge to suck his whole mouth. Swallowing over a lump in her throat, she felt her heart race.

  She hadn’t felt this kind of heat since Eric.

  And the thought of Eric cooled her ardor as she remembered the child she carried.

  “I would take you in that room and make you beg me for this pussy ... if I wasn’t pregnant and saved,” she whispered against his mouth, enjoying when the look of passion in his eyes was replaced by confusion.

  He released her and stepped back.

  Jessa raised her hand to close his open mouth by pushing up on his chin. “And that’s why the only dick going inside of me is my toy. Bye-bye, Captain,” she said sweetly, before finally entering her stateroom and leaving him standing there with his penis as hard as time.

  Jessa quickly used the bathroom and made her way back up on deck. There was no sign of the sexy captain with the raw edge and she was glad. Fiery chemistry like that got her in trouble.

  Keegan had removed her bikini top and was sunbathing nude.

  Jessa eyed her and decided that any nipples on large breasts that pointed up to the heavens were fake. “You’re putting on quite a show for the crew,” Jessa drawled.