Message from a Mistress

by Niobia Bryant

  Aria shivered but she wasn’t even trying to get played, she didn’t care if the feel of his mouth was making her moist.

  “Baby, you should check on Jessa too,” he said in between kisses.

  Aria stiffened as her pussy juices dried up. “Why?”

  “She was just sitting up front by herself looking down,” he told her. “Maybe something’s up with her and Marc, so I made her ride with me to the store.”

  Aria brought her hands up to his face and leaned back to look up at her husband, her lover, her friend, her confidant. She started to third degree his ass about their car ride, but she passed. There was more than one way to skin a cat. She was a journalist, and she’d learned early that sometimes to get to the truth it was best not to ask direct questions. Sometimes you found other ways to get to the bottom of shit.

  She kissed him deeply as she kept her eyes locked with his. She flickered her tongue against the tip of his before she sucked it intensely into her own mouth with a moan.

  “Damn,” Kingston swore, his hands working her dress up around her waist.

  But she brushed his hands away as she reached between them to undo his button and zipper. With her eyes still locked with his, she roughly jerked his shorts and boxers down around his muscled thighs. She squatted before him and took his semihard dick in her hand.

  “Baby, someone could walk in,” he said, not sounding remotely concerned.

  “So?”

  Kingston held his hands up in surrender as he leaned sideways a bit to look down at her.

  Aria smelled him without him knowing. The curly hairs of his crotch smelled lightly of sweat and his cologne. Not pussy. Not soap used to clean off the scent of pussy. She ran her tongue along the length of his hard pitch-black inches before she circled her tongue around the caramel-colored tip that was thick and smooth. No taste of pussy or soap.

  Humph.

  Closing her eyes, she took all of his hardening dick into her mouth until the smooth tip kissed her tonsils. His body tensed and she felt his knees weaken as his hands clutched her hair in his fist.

  Aria sucked her husband’s dick like she was trying to give him life and then take it away by draining him of every bit of cum his nuts could muster. She knew his dick in and out. Soon she felt the pulse of his dick against her tongue as he cried out with each spasm of cum exploding into her mouth. He fell back into an armchair and Aria moved with him on her knees to stay with the dick, still sucking him deeply and swallowing his seed as he cried out in a chorus of sopranolike high notes, shivering and weak.

  It was a reward and a reminder.

  She was that bitch who didn’t leave room for another bitch to take care of her man/her dick.

  Period.

  Renee was stunned by the weakness she felt in Aria’s body. In their friendship, everyone had her role. Renee was the Mama Surrogate, Jaime was Mrs. Bourgeoisie, Jessa had been the Life of the Party/Queen of Gossip Control, and Aria had been the Hard Ass who didn’t take shit off no one.

  To feel her friend completely shaken by Jessa’s bullshit made Renee just as angry as the thought that it was indeed her. Renee was not a fighter, but in that moment she knew if she laid eyes on Jessa Bell the Jezebel, she could wear her ass out easily.

  Because of the drama, because of the hurt still to come for one of them, because she felt like a fool. She’d invited the spider into her lair….

  Renee strode out of the building with her car keys already in hand. She deactivated the alarm of her SUV and then opened the door to slide into the driver’s seat as she tossed her briefcase on the leather passenger seat. She felt completely overwhelmed but she was determined to get her shit together with a quickness.

  Easier said than done.

  She leaned back in her chair and eyed the phone. She felt dread to call her husband even to tell him she was on the way home. She didn’t feel like arguing again. She didn’t have time to argue. But rest assured, they would argue.

  That’s all we seem to do lately, she thought as she massaged the bridge of her nose with her hand.

  Knock-knock.

  Renee looked over at her assistant, Darren, tapping on her driver-side window. Turning the key in the ignition, she lowered the window with the power button. “Yes, Darren?” she asked, looking up at the young man whose skin was as dark as chocolate.

  “You left the CD with all of your press releases, and I know you said you were going to work on them tonight,” he said, handing the plastic case to her.

  “Thanks, Darren. I’m trying to rush home and I forgot,” she told him as she took it from him. “What would I do without my assistant?”

  He smiled in pleasure. Darren was a college senior with well-expressed desires to get into nonprofit work with the use of his business degree. He was young, eager, ready to learn, and beyond ready to work.

  Sometimes Renee wondered if he was gunning for her job.

  “Thanks again, Darren,” she told him.

  “Have a safe ride, Mrs. Clinton,” he said, stepping back from her SUV.

  Renee gave him one last smile and wave before she pulled out of her reserved parking spot.

  As soon as she settled in her seat for her twenty-minute drive home, Renee wondered what the atmosphere would be like when she got there. She was truly afraid for her marriage.

  Jackson wouldn’t or couldn’t understand that once the children were in school all day, sitting around the house all day washing clothes and cleaning was slowly driving her ass insane.

  She was a college-educated woman who wanted to use the brain God gave her. She wanted to put on her shoes, get the fuck out of the kitchen, and not have any more babies.

  Renee found charity work of attending social events, posing for pictures, and writing big checks to be superficial. After a photo-op trip to CancerCure, Renee had truly taken an interest in the foundation and the work they did for cancer research and awareness across the country. She stopped putting in frivolous hours wearing pretty suits and big hats to luncheons with her Women’s League and started volunteering directly at CancerCure.

  Now she was the vice president of marketing. When the opportunity arose to apply for the position she couldn’t pass it up. Combining a chance to use her skill, vision, and degree with such a worthy cause? She had to apply and then accept when they offered it to her.

  She had to.

  Jackson hadn’t spoken to her for weeks after she told him she was going to work full-time.

  She wondered how long he would stay mad because she was going to be late to the business dinner at their house tonight. CancerCure had a huge benefit concert planned for next week with some of the top artists in the country, and it was her job to get with the various teams and work out last-minute details. Her bosses wanted everything done today and Renee knew she wouldn’t be done by three to get home in time to supervise the caterers.

  Thankfully Jessa had stepped in for her and was at the house getting everything prepared so that all Renee had to do was take a shower, twist her shoulder-length hair up into a sexy topknot, and change into the dress she’d already picked out.

  Renee was grateful for Jessa’s help. Aria was busy working on a freelance story and Jaime was busy tending to a sick Eric.

  As she pulled through the gates of Richmond Hills, Renee actually felt herself getting excited about the dinner party. She was determined to play the hostess and have a good time while ensuring her husband’s party was flawless.

  And tonight after everyone was gone, Renee planned for them to fuck away their drama. She would bathe him, suck him to the edge of an explosive nut, and then ride his dick backwards until his mouth was twisted.

  Renee parked on the street in front of the house behind the catering van, not bothering with the garage because it was easier to fit four or five cars in the garage and driveway than on the street. Luckily none of the guests had arrived yet. “Good,” she said aloud as she grabbed her cell phone and hurried out of her car to walk up the asphalt walkway leading t
o the side of the house. She paused and then backed up as she looked through the front window into her living room.

  Jessa was snuggled on one end of the leather love seat sipping from a goblet of wine while Jackson was beside her doing the same. Something about the scene was intimate to Renee. Intimate and a bit disconcerting.

  Renee tried to laugh off the sudden sting of jealousy and suspicion as she switched gears and walked across the lawn and through the front door into the house. She peeked through the small oval glass at the top of the door as she purposefully made as much noise as possible opening the door.

  Through the mirror she saw Jackson rise to his feet and move away from where he’d just sat with Jessa.

  “Say what say who?” Renee said as she walked in.

  “Hey, Renee,” Jessa said, greeting her with a warm smile.

  “Hey, Jessa.” Renee’s eyes shifted to find Jackson standing by the bar topping his glass off with his favorite cognac. She walked over to him, placing her hand on his back. “Hey, baby.”

  He said nothing and moved away from her touch to take a deep sip of his drink.

  That stung like salt poured in an open wound.

  “Well, since you’re home, I’m going to head out to get dressed,” Jessa said, rising to walk over to Renee.

  Renee accepted the goblet Jessa gave her. “Thanks again, Jessa. I really appreciate it,” she told her friend, even as she felt like she’d interrupted them.

  “There really was nothing to do. You had everything planned out perfectly,” she stressed with a wink at Renee as she squeezed her hand. “The caterers own the kitchen. The samples I had of the food are delicious. I set the table and dropped the kids at your mother’s.”

  Renee drank down the rest of the wine in one swallow. She felt horrible for her thoughts of Jessa betraying her. The woman was helping her out, and her repayment was thoughts that she was fucking her husband? Renee felt ashamed of herself as Jessa slipped out the door.

  “Jackson, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be here—”

  He stared at her over the rim of his glass. “Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” he said coldly.

  Cold enough to make Renee shiver. “Jackson, why do you have to keep fighting about this?” she asked.

  He walked over to her. “And you’re comfortable about turning to another woman to step in to do my wifely duties?”

  Renee frowned. “Wifely duties? Look here, Ward Cleaver, you tripping—”

  She swallowed the rest of her words as one of the servers stepped into the living room. “Sorry, I was looking for Mrs. Clinton,” the short and plump man said.

  “How can I help you?” Renee asked, walking over to him.

  He looked confused. “The…um…other Mrs. Clinton?”

  Renee ignored Jackson’s sarcastic bark of laughter. “She’s a friend helping me out until I got home. I’m Mrs. Clinton. The one and only.”

  She gave her husband one last look over her shoulder before she followed the server into the kitchen. He was standing by the bar staring at her. “I love you, Jackson,” she mouthed to him with a plea in her eyes.

  And after a moment he simply nodded.

  For now it was enough.

  Needing a diversion, Jaime reached in her bag and pulled out her shades, slipping them into place.

  Brrrnnnggg.

  Aria and Renee both looked over at her as her cell phone loudly rang from her purse. She calmly removed it from her purse and checked the caller ID. “It’s my mother,” she told them.

  Jaime frowned deeply in displeasure as Aria waved her hands dismissively. “Hello, Mother,” she said into the phone as she turned, giving Renee and Aria her designer-covered back.

  “Jaime, since we missed Eric at breakfast, your father and I wanted you and Eric to come over for dinner tonight. We’re having the Hamptons and Reverend Greggs and his wife over as well.”

  Jaime looked heavenward as she flipped her weave away from her face and pressed the phone closer to her ear. “We have other plans, and you taught me well not to cancel an event when I have already sent back my RSVP,” she lied with ease.

  Her mother sighed in obvious disappointment. “I don’t remember you saying you had something to attend this evening. What is it, a dinner party?” she asked.

  Virginia Osten-Pine could work for the FBI with her natural ability to snoop out a lie. The woman kept Jaime on her toes trying to keep up the facade of her marriage. The truth? Humph. Virginia couldn’t handle the truth. I have a date with my destiny, Mother. It’s very likely my husband may be leaving me for one of my best friends. Now how do you like them apples?

  Like everyone in their world, Virginia and Franklin had no idea their daughter’s marriage was a sham. They had no clue of the coldness of their home when there were no watchful eyes. They had no clue that she was lonely. They had no clue that she was the first to stray or that she had long ago suspected her husband of sleeping with their friend….

  Brrrnnnggg.

  Brrrnnnggg.

  Jaime rolled over in her sleep at the jarring sound of the phone ringing in the middle of the night. And then it hit her. The phone was ringing in the middle of the night and that never boded well. Never.

  Sitting up, she turned on the lamp and then grabbed the black cordless from its base on her nightstand. “Hello,” she said, her heart already pounding as Eric shifted and just snored a little louder beside her.

  “Jaime, get over here. Jessa needs us.”

  No other words were needed. Jaime hung up the phone and rolled out of their plush down-filled bed in one movement. She scrambled out of her sheer nightgown and pulled on one of her sports unitards. Quickly she zoomed into the bathroom to remove her silk hair scarf and brush down her wrapped hair. Wash her face. Brush her teeth. Rinse her mouth. She was ready.

  Jaime walked back to the bed. “Eric,” she called out softly.

  A louder, more drawn-out snore was her answer.

  After sliding her feet into step-in shoes, Jaime reached over and shook his shoulder.

  He frowned as he awakened and looked up at her. “Huh?”

  “Renee just called and Jessa needs us,” she told him, not even waiting for a response before she turned and left the room.

  Only two weeks ago, Jessa had buried her husband of just five years after a fatal motorcycle incident. It had torn up Jaime’s heart to see Jessa crying and so obviously lost without her husband, especially when it was Jessa who usually led the fun and good-time brigade. Over the last week they had all kept her under their watchful eye, and the only thing Jaime knew in that moment was Jessa needed them.

  As she stepped out onto her porch she looked up the street and saw Aria walking out of her house as well.

  Jaime waited for her. “What’s going on?” she asked as they hurried up the sidewalk to Jessa’s brightly lit house.

  “I don’t know,” Aria said, her hair still wrapped with a cloth. Crust still in the corner of her eye. Drool still dried in a path from her mouth to her chin.

  Jaime frowned but said nothing. She just knew she wouldn’t be caught dead walking the streets like that.

  Aria eyed her from head to toe. “Were you up exercising?” she asked as they turned up the walk leading to Jessa’s front door.

  “No.”

  Jaime didn’t miss the way Aria shook her head.

  The front door opened and Renee ushered them inside. “I was up late working on a proposal for my new job and I happen to glance outside and she was sitting in the gazebo.”

  “At this time of the night?” Aria asked as they climbed the stairs together.

  “Exactly. ”

  Renee led the way into the bedroom. It clung with sadness and depression as Jessa lay on her side of the bed stiffly, as if she was afraid to roll over and discover that her husband was not there. And would not ever be there again.

  She looked up at them with puffy, red-rimmed eyes that were filled with pain as they came to stand by her bedside. “I can’t do this,
y’all. I can’t….”

  “Awww.” Jaime sighed, sitting down to rub Jessa’s back. “Listen, I can’t imagine how you feel. I can’t imagine at all, but I want you to know that you are one of the strongest people I know, and even though it doesn’t seem like it now, you will get through, Jessa. We will help you get through this.”

  Aria and Renee climbed onto the bed beside Jessa. As they allowed a mourning friend to cry, they found tears swelling in their own eyes.

  “I thank God for y’all. What would I do without you?” Jessa asked softly.

  “Well, you’ll never find out, girlfriend,” Aria assured her.

  What a bunch of crap, Jaime thought.

  Jaime bit the lip gloss from her lips. “Humph. When Marc died, we were so good to her, neglecting our own husbands to be her friend. Not a neighbor. Not an associate. A friend. What would I do without you, she asked,” Jaime recalled sarcastically to herself. “Looks like she figured it out for herself, huh?”

  Bitch.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ding. Ding. Ding.

  “Excuse me, everyone. Excuse me.”

  The seven people gathered around the large round table in the Spanish restaurant quieted their chatter. They all focused their attention on Marc standing with his glass of sangria in one hand and a dinner fork in the other.

  “Oh, Lord, here comes a speech,” Jackson joked before taking a swig of his bottle of light beer.

  “Baby, you’re just mad Marc beat you to it,” Renee quipped, reaching over to lightly squeeze his upper arm.

  Marc just laughed good-naturedly, looking like his usual charming and handsome self in a crisp black silk shirt and dark denims that seemed beyond black with his fair complexion. “A night like this, surrounded by good food, good drink, and most importantly, good friends, deserves a toast.”

  “That’s right, baby,” Jessa said in husky tones as she looked up at Marc adoringly.

  “I just want to thank you all for coming out with me and Jessa tonight to celebrate my promotion,” Marc began. “Jessa and I couldn’t think of any better people to surround ourselves with. You all are the epitome of good friends.”