Mrs. Jones (The Jones Series Book 1)

by B. M. Hardin

  And to be honest, in my opinion of course, he had no real plans to leave her; no matter what he said.

  I was told that if you really wanted to do something…you did it.

  Though, I guess there were some exceptions, but it had been years, and Joey was still singing the same old tune.

  All while still kissing my husband, I somehow replayed the conversation between Joey and I inside of my head; the one that we had briefly on the telephone---the day of the wedding.

  “You can’t marry him Niveah. I won’t let you,” Joey had said.

  “Let me? Joey, you really don’t have any say-so. If you don’t want me to marry Santana…then you divorce her, and marry me,” I said calling his bluff.

  “Niveah, you know I can’t divorce her. She will take everything that I have worked my entire life for. Or have you forgotten how it all goes? You know that I don’t want to be with her. I want you. But the divorce has to be on her terms. She has to be the one to mess up this marriage; not me,” Joey explained, but it all sounded like a pile of bull crap to me.

  Okay, so yes, Joey had managed to make something of himself; but he hadn’t given a damn about being in the midst of my marriages, so why should I care about his?

  After all, had it not been for Joey, I would have still been with my second husband…maybe.

  “Look, Niveah, no more marriages; just be patient. One day we will be able to be together and when that day comes, no one else needs to be in the way. It just needs to be us. She’s been complaining about time and my attention and before you know it, she’s going to find what she needs elsewhere and when she does, I’m out of there. But I don’t want you with anyone else in the meantime; I damn sure don’t want you being someone else’s wife. All you need is me. I’ll kill him…and you know I’m good for it,” Joey threatened me.

  Sure, he was good for it. I mean, after all he had been the one to set up to have my second husband, Coby, killed...

  “Niveah!”

  I jumped at the sound of Santana’s voice.

  “Who in the hell is Joey?” Santana asked. His eyes appeared as dark as black coals. I could see nothing but rage at the center of them.

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Who in the hell is Joey? You’ve said his name like ten damn times! I know damn well… Niveah I’m going to ask you one more time. Who in the hell is Joey?” Santana yelled and pushed me off of him.

  Damn it!

  I had always been so good about keeping Joey in the shadows. How could I have made such a huge mistake?

  I needed a lie and I needed one fast; otherwise my day old marriage was already over.

  I hesitated for a few more minutes and when Santana began to get out of the bed, as if I was going for an Oscar, I forced myself into tears.

  “Joey was my best friend growing up,” I sobbed.

  At this point, I was unsure if my tears were real or just a part of my act, but either way, they had to seem real enough to earn Santana’s sympathy.

  I started mixing the truth with lies inside of my head and then the combo proceeded to come out of my mouth.

  “He died when we were thirteen. He was hit by a bus running across the street as I chased him. I called his name over and over to warn him, but he only thought that I was playing. By the time he turned around it was too late. I don’t know but it seems like after every major event or accomplishment in my life, I always find myself thinking of him. Maybe it’s some kind of guilt trip that causes me to think that I deprived him of completing whatever milestone I’d just accomplished or completed. I’m so sorry. The wedding and everything must have caused him to cross my mind,” I pitched him some sad ass story.

  Wow…I didn’t know that I had it in me.

  Hell, that lie was so perfect that I almost believed it my damn self. I mean sure I’d been screwing Joey while I was with Santana, but rarely did I have to lie about it. We both were in relationships so we usually spent time together when Joey was supposed to be at work and while Santana was actually at work. And our nights, of course, belonged to our mates.

  I looked up at Santana, pitifully, as he stood over me. His face was still just a tad bit tensed; but I could see it begin to relax.

  “Why hadn’t you ever told me this before? Why hadn’t you ever mentioned this Joey? And why would you be thinking about death while we are trying to make love?” Santana questioned.

  “I guess I never mentioned it because it’s just one of those horrible things from the past that you spend a lifetime trying to forget. And I hadn’t even noticed that my mind had drifted there until you called my name,” I lied.

  The tears that were now flowing were definitely real. I wanted Santana to believe me. I needed Santana to believe me. I didn’t want to lose him.

  Hell, I’d just legally gotten him.

  Needless to say, after a few more questions, Santana fell for the lie and forgave me; though he was no longer in the mood for sex.

  It was a close one, but I’d dodged a bullet…and a divorce. I concluded that Joey just couldn’t be a part of our relationship anymore; now that we were married.

  ~**********~

  Chapter Two

  Our honeymoon was Heaven on earth.

  The time that Santana and I had spent together was magical. If I hadn’t loved Santana the way I should have before…I definitely loved him now.

  The way he’d made me feel was unexplainable, and the bond that we’d developed was irreplaceable.

  I was head over heels in love with my husband…finally. Things between us were perfect.

  It was as if the little Joey name calling incident had never even happened.

  Speaking of the Devil, Joey had called me over a hundred times while I was in Miami. Upset was nowhere near the word most accurate to describe what Joey was.

  Now that we were back in Georgia, I knew that eventually I would have to face him; but I wasn’t ready.

  I mean, I couldn’t fool myself; I loved him. The love that I had for Joey was one that I’d always been sure of. But it takes more than love to make something work these days; and besides, if I couldn’t be first---I damn sure wasn’t going to be last...anymore. And whether I’d wanted to accept it, face it, or even respect it in the past, Joey was married, and always had been.

  Before we’d fully pulled into the drive way of our two story suburban home, immediately, I’d spotted Joey’s black truck, a house or two down from ours, across the street.

  I exhaled loudly.

  “What’s wrong baby?” Santana questioned my actions.

  “I want go back to Miami,” I quickly responded, giving a fake pout.

  I swear it was becoming harder and harder to keep a few of my secrets, and Joey, hidden.

  It was so much work…all the damn time!

  And personally, I just didn’t want to do it anymore.

  Indeed it was time to have a talk with Joey.

  Getting out of the car, I made eye contact with Joey, who looked as though he wanted to whoop some tanned, fresh, newlywed ass!

  Santana led the way and I shook my phone behind my back to signal to Joey that I was going to call him as soon as I could.

  Instantly, he started up his truck and sped off.

  I was surprised it’d been so easy to get rid of him. Surely the situation could have gone a lot different, but thank God that Joey was in one of his being civil moods; because at least five days out of a week he was a damn fool.

  “Home sweet home,” Santana chimed as soon as we walked through the front door.

  Our home was absolutely stunning…thanks to me.

  It was so cozy and decorated to perfection.

  I’d always wanted to pursue a career in interior design. I vowed that once the wedding was over, I was going to focus on starting my own business; hopefully I could use the business to help me explain or at least cover up a couple of millions.

  I’d walked away from my first marriage with more money than I could count. The only catch to i
t all was that Santana… knew nothing about the money…or my first husband.

  A woman with two previous husbands was a bit much, so I only told Santana about the husband that he’d probably heard the story about; my second husband, Coby.

  Coby was, what can I say, one of the smartest, funniest men I’d ever known. I was sure that he was the one for me. He made me want more out of life. He was so ambitious, so full of life…and so full of s-h-i-t.

  After two years of marriage, Coby started to drink and drinking led to violence. I blamed it on the amount of stress that he was under at work, but something told me that it was more to it than that. Still yet, me---and my face, often paid the price for his frustrations. The beatings became unbearable, but I couldn’t walk away from him. I refused to get a divorce. I was already on marriage number two, and I was determined to make that one work.

  But after all was said and done, maybe divorcing him wouldn’t have been so bad. It surely would have better that death.

  Though I hadn’t killed him, personally, his death was absolutely my fault and his blood was on my hands. I don’t know what I was thinking about when I told Joey about the abuse that I was enduring at home. Joey had always had a temper and had always been just a little bit crazy…especially about me. I’d begged Joey not to do anything stupid, but that was like telling a cow not to moo.

  But I didn’t expect him to kill him; I really didn’t.

  Then again…we were talking about Joey.

  Joey had a few guys set fire to Coby’s technology company one evening; with him and about ten other workers still inside.

  I’d always told Coby that building the company so far back from the road and way back in the cut would be trouble; and on that day…it was. The building had been on fire for a while before anyone had even noticed and was a little difficult to find when firefighters were on their way to help. Nothing but the base of the building and ashes were left when help arrived.

  That night, as soon as I’d seen the police at the front door, I’d known that Joey had done something awful. Unfortunately, I had been right.

  Joey later told me that he had been there that night, watching his crew as they went around the entire one level building, making sure that all of the doors and windows were blocked by flames to ensure that no one could get out.

  I still don’t get why Joey chose to do something as drastic as the fire; I mean no one deserved to die, especially the other ten innocent people that were inside.

  The news said that something had caused the fire from the inside that night, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. They never even looked for other alternatives or suspects.

  Emotionally, I was torn up with grief and sorrow for all of the victims, but I have to be completely honest and say that though maybe I should have been, I wasn’t exactly angry at Joey for what he’d done; but I wasn’t happy about it either.

  I blamed myself. I should have known better than to tell Joey something such as the abuse that I endured from Coby, knowing that Joey and his mother were often abused by his alcoholic father when we were younger. He’d always talked about killing him too, but unfortunately, or maybe it was fortunately, the alcohol had beaten him to it.

  But I’d never wanted Coby to die.

  Anyway, the story of Coby, his associates, and the company was a big story for a little while, and since I was still using Coby’s last name when I met Santana, that was the only marriage that I felt that Santana needed to know about.

  Coby had left me a good bit of money but nothing too extreme. Though Santana was aware of the money that Coby had left behind, it wasn’t enough to cover up what I really had in the bank. Thousands were a big difference from millions; roughly fifty million to be exact.

  I kicked off my shoes and took a seat.

  Santana had a sly grin on his face, yet I was more concerned with sending Joey a message.

  But Santana demanded my attention.

  He sat on the floor in front of me and began to rub my feet. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the warmth of his hands. Santana was the best with his hands; he definitely had a magic touch. Abruptly, the rubbing ceased and I opened my eyes at the wetness of his tongue.

  I grinned like a small child on Christmas morning as he sucked each one of my toes, slowly, teasingly.

  Uh oh…things were about to get freaky!

  First let me say, Santana was absolutely some of the best piece of wood that I’d ever had! For a while, I thought that Joey would forever hold that title. But Joey didn’t have a thing on Santana. I guessed with Joey it was more so about the chemistry and the emotions that I felt when I was with him; but with Santana, who had the time to focus on emotions? It was all about the D!

  His sex, love-making, was the best!

  As Santana slowly pulled my knees apart, I lifted slightly so that he could tug on my panties underneath my dress. He took them off and placed them into his mouth.

  Hey, like I said, he was always on some crazy, freaky stuff. And I loved it.

  Next, he pulled at my legs, causing me to slide down in the chair. As he continued to chew on my panties, his fingers found their way to my watering hole. I moaned simply from his touch. It was as though every single touch was filled with love.

  Isn’t it something to be able to tell how much a person loves you, just by the way that they touch you?

  That’s the effect that Santana’s touches had on me.

  He proceeded to flick my bean as my moans grew louder. My juices flowed effortlessly, drowning his fingers which now seemed to be struggling as they moved in and out of me. I held on tightly to his wrists, hoping that he’d have a little mercy on me, but I knew Santana.

  He wouldn’t stop until either his hands…or his mouth was full of my sweet, creamy cum.

  Speaking of his mouth, he spit out my panties and licked his lips. Instantly, my body became as hot as fire. I knew that I was about to go to that point of return in only a matter of seconds…and I couldn’t wait!

  Santana placed his mouth on me. My mouth cooed without my permission, and my hands obeyed my instructions, as they squeezed the back of Santana’s neck. The flicks and licks coming from his tongue were indescribable. It was impossible for me to put into words just how he was making me feel. His fingers joined in as he continued to please me with his mouth. I wanted to call him something dirty, but I couldn’t get manage to find the right words. All I could do was whine, moan, and sometimes scream.

  My g-spot was starting to respond to the harassment and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I would cross the orgasm finish line. Santana began to talk to my pussycat, and she responded by spitting her juices in his face. My eyes closed as I bit my bottom lip. That familiar feeling in my stomach began to stir and I let out a scream from the pit of my belly. Moments later, my creams of satisfaction spewed out of my kitty cat’s opening, and Santana met them, eagerly---with his mouth.

  ~***~

  “So you married him anyway?” Joey asked in disbelief.

  It had taken days to get Santana off of my back, in order to meet with Joey, but the day was had finally come---and I finally had to say goodbye.

  “Joey, you’re married too, but you seem to forget that. I’ve been through two marriages, and still yet, you haven’t left her. And you never plan to,” I said to him.

  “Not this again. Damn, you know why I’m still married; but you also know who has my heart…you. You only married him to piss me off,” Joey proclaimed.

  “No, I married him because I love him. And I married him because if I continue to wait on you, I’ll be alone forever,” I confirmed.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. She’s cheating on me. I don’t know with whom yet; but I’m positive that she is. And as soon as I catch her, I’m out of there, and the ball will be in my court. All I asked you for was a little more time,” Joey said.

  She’s cheating?

  This changes everything…or does it?

  I wasn’t prepared for him to spill t
hat pot of beans so I remained quiet.

  “I thought we were tired of hiding, and tired of lying. I thought that it was just going to be us, finally. No one will ever love you the way that I do. And I don’t care what mess you have gone out and created; one day, you will be mine Niveah---all mine,” Joey said, staring at me.

  My mind was all over the place as I tried to sort out my feelings.

  The truth is…with Joey I felt complete. I felt sure. I felt as though with him I could be who I really was. I didn’t have to pretend, I didn’t have to lie. I didn’t have to be who I thought he wanted me to be. I could just be me. He loved me for who I was. He knew me. He knew my secrets and he still loved me. Joey was the only person who knew the truth about me and how I cheated my first husband, Tony, out of all of his money and still yet, he loved me anyway.

  My first husband, Tony’s was something I tell you. I couldn’t believe the space that we’d ended up in but nevertheless, something between us changed. At one point in time, he was the best thing that had ever happened to me and the fact that he of all people wanted to leave me; I just couldn’t accept that. I’d begged him for months, but I knew that he was growing tired of my begging. He was going to leave me and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it; at least that’s what he’d thought.

  With careful planning, since I knew that he was already stepping outside of our marriage, I intentionally began to send women in his direction. Seducing him wasn’t all that hard and I had more than enough evidence on him and his affairs, to walk away with pretty much half of everything that he had. And that’s exactly what I’d done. See, what Tony didn’t know was that before we were married, I’d taken him to see our family lawyer. We talked about a prenup; though we didn’t need anything extreme. Actually, Tony hadn’t even wanted one. He’d said that we didn’t need one, but with his father in his ear, and to shut him up, I had my lawyer create one…one that worked in my favor of course. I knew that Tony trusted me and would never read the paperwork in full, or if at all; but in the end he’d wished that he had. He’d thought it was something short and simple. At least, that’s what he’d thought. But really, it said more like I got half of everything, money and business if Tony had an affair. I’d walked away from our marriage with enough money to last me for the rest of my life, and Tony wasn’t at all happy about it. But he hadn’t tried to fight me for it. He hadn’t even put up much of a fuss. All he’d said was that he just wanted out. He just wanted to be happy, and he just wanted to be free. And free he was. And the fact that he just wanted to get away from me at all costs, actually hurt the most.