Corporate Seduction

by A. C. Arthur

  “All this is well and good, but pictures don’t lie.”

  “Khalil.” Keith was becoming more and more frustrated by the minute. “You know, for a computer geek you sure are stupid when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  Khalil shot him a heated glare.

  “You’re into private investigating. Look at these pictures again and tell me they couldn’t have been tampered with.” Moving to his desk Keith picked up the pictures, then thrust them into Khalil’s hands. “Now at first glance you would think it was Reka. But give it a closer look. I mean, I haven’t seen her naked so I can’t be one hundred percent positive, but there is a strong possibility that this could have been airbrushed. Reka can’t stand Tyrese, so there’s no way in hell she’d be licking on her or being licked by her, for that matter.”

  Khalil had no choice but to take the photos even though he was beginning to think that coming to Keith was a bad idea. His friend wasn’t exactly soothing his broken ego. He looked down at the photos.

  This was the shot of her riding Donovan. The hair was the same, the skin tone was the same. His eyes traveled down further and stopped. Reka had two dimples at the base of her back. The picture didn’t show any, but then the lighting wasn’t all that great.

  He flipped through the pictures, looking for one that would show her face. He would know if it were her face. She was lying down, her legs spread wide, with Donovan between them and Tyrese playing with her breasts, breasts that looked a lot smaller than he recalled. Her eyes were closed in this shot but her lips were puckered as if she were moaning. Then his heart stopped. He lifted the picture closer to his face, studying it earnestly. Where was the beauty mark?

  It should be there, just below her bottom lip on the left side. But it wasn’t.

  Lowering the picture, he sighed. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

  Keith grimaced. “Big time.”

  * * *

  It was almost time to go home and Tacoma hadn’t heard a peep from Reka all afternoon. That was unusual, since they normally talked a billion times during the day. He knocked on her door, then opened it without waiting for an answer. “Hey, where’ve you been hiding all afternoon?” He talked as he entered, then stopped abruptly when he saw her sitting in her chair, swinging it from side to side. Her face was somber, her eyes a little swollen from what he could see. The situation, he surmised, was bad. “What happened to you?”

  She’d been closed in this office for the last four hours. First, immediately after Khalil had gone, she’d cried and then cried some more. It was well after lunch by the time she’d used up all her Kleenex and felt a burning in her nostrils from blowing too much. Then she’d found her resolve and thought about the situation seriously. Tacoma had come in at just the right time. “Close the door,” she said solemnly.

  He did so quickly, then moved around the desk, taking her hand. “Tell me what happened, sweetie. You look absolutely beaten and downtrodden.”

  His words interrupted her thoughts and she looked up at him strangely. “What the hell is downtrodden?”

  Tacoma continued to rub her hand with his. “Oh, did I say that? I’ve been reading those historical romances again. You know, the ones that Terry absolutely hates.” He smiled.

  Reka tried to reciprocate but couldn’t hold the grin. “You’re crazy.”

  “And you’re upset. What happened?”

  Reka took a deep breath, then went into the whole sordid spin her life had taken this morning. For a moment Tacoma was absolutely quiet, which in itself was a miracle. That confirmed that this was not a good thing.

  “So what are you going to do?” he asked finally.

  “I can’t change his mind. Whatever he thinks about me he’s going to think regardless of what I do or don’t do. I was honest with him, so I’ve done enough in that regard. The rest is up to him.”

  “Yeah, but seeing those pictures had to be hard for him.” Tacoma surprised himself with that statement.

  “He should have known it wasn’t me,” she retorted. “He should have known I couldn’t do something like that.”

  “Calm down, chicky.” Tacoma continued to stroke her hand because she was getting riled up, and when Reka got riled up the next step was usually her swinging on you. “I’m not saying he’s right for being mad and confronting you. All I’m saying is that you need to put yourself in his shoes for a minute. Imagine if you’d opened up a package of pictures of him and that uppity woman you met. You would have been ready to rip him a new…”

  “Tacoma! I get the picture,” she interrupted. Taking another deep breath—all this therapeutic breathing she was doing made her feel as if she were about to give birth—and closed her eyes. “I guess I would have been upset initially. But I really believed he wouldn’t hurt me. He made me believe that.”

  “Sweetie, he can’t make you do anything. Don’t forget I know you, if nobody else does. You believed he wouldn’t hurt you because you loved him. You wanted to believe in him and the relationship you had. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes a person’s first reaction is more emotional than rational.”

  “He never even asked me if it were true,” she said in a small voice. “He just believed it. Just like that. I think that’s what hurt the most.”

  Leaning over, Tacoma wrapped her in his arms. “I know, sweetie. But everything’s going to work out. You just wait and see.”

  “I don’t think so, Tacoma,” she said as he released her.

  Tacoma waved a hand. “Sure it is. Because we’re going to work it out.”

  “Oh, goodness, slow down, Rambo.”

  Tacoma was moving about the office now. “Uh-uh, there’s no slow down now. Not this time. We’re going down that hall and we’re going to snatch that little hussy right out of her chair and beat her little ass!”

  Reka was already shaking her head. “We can’t do that.”

  “What do you mean, we can’t? Are you crazy? Has falling in love permanently distorted your mind? The Reka I know would be about handling her business.”

  She stood. “I am going to handle my business, just not in the office.” She picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Sit down,” she instructed him. “Watch and learn. This is how a real woman works.”

  Tacoma frowned, plopped his bony body into a chair and crossed his legs. He was ready to go, ready to snatch Tyrese bald, but he’d wait for now. Reka was his partner in crime, his road dog, his very best friend in the world. He’d do anything to keep her happy, and right now that included beating down a woman.

  “Donovan, this is Reka. Give me a call as soon as you get this message.” She hung up, then sat back in her chair. “Somebody paid him. I know they did. Donovan loves money, and if the price was right he’d do just about anything.” She was tapping her finger against her chin. “What I can’t figure out is who would pay him to do this. And why would he do it with Tyrese?”

  “That’s simple. The Fifth Avenue Ho,” Tacoma said matter of factly.

  A knock sounded on the door and Cienna walked in. “Hi, I was looking for Khalil. I got his messages and just managed to get a moment to see him. Do you guys know where he is?”

  Tacoma looked at Reka, who tried her best not to cry all over again. Cienna looked at the two of them and knew something was going on. “What’s happened?” She was in the office with the door closed behind her in no time.

  “Do you want to do the honors or shall I?” Tacoma asked.

  With another deep breath she told Cienna the story.

  “You have got to be kidding.” Cienna put a hand to her forehead. “I swear this firm must be a magnet for crazy sexual antics. Tyrese? Are you sure it was her?”

  Reka nodded. “Positive. I did a double take myself. But then there were so many pictures that her face became clearer in each one. She’s definitely not the stuck up ghetto I-married-well-so-now-I’m-all-that twit we thought she was.”

  Tacoma grinned. “Ain’t that the truth. But she is a bimbo, so I say we t
reat her like one and put the smack down on her.” He was up and out of his chair again.

  “Sit down, Tacoma,” Cienna sighed. “No fighting in the office.”

  “Then you go down there and fire her skinny ass,” Tacoma rebutted as he took his seat again.

  Cienna shook her head. “Fire her for what? Having a sex life outside of the office? She’ll sue Page & Associates so quick we won’t have time to get to the unemployment line.”

  “But isn’t it insubordination or something to bring photos like this into the workplace?” Reka asked. The thought of seeing Tyrese every day from here on out made her sick.

  “Not unless you can prove that she brought them here. And you said they were in a FedEx envelope. It’s easy enough to find out who sent the package, but if it wasn’t her there’s really nothing I can do.”

  “Well, she’s not getting off that easy!” Tacoma was up again.

  “Sit down, Tacoma!” Reka and Cienna yelled in unison.

  Tacoma frowned.

  “I can’t fire her,” Cienna said thoughtfully, “but if she were to resign I’d have no problem accepting it.” She looked at Reka.

  “So what does that tell us? She’s not going to quit and you know it,” Tacoma fired back.

  Reka kept her eyes on Cienna, getting her meaning and smiling. “Oh she’s going to quit. It’ll just take a little convincing.” She turned to Tacoma. “I know you’re up for convincing her, aren’t you?”

  A smile spread across Tacoma’s face. “You know I am,” he said, rubbing his hands together happily.

  * * *

  Khalil breathed a heavy sigh as he let himself into his apartment. It was after seven and he was tired from driving around the city trying to get his thoughts together. Keith had pointed out something he hadn’t even considered. As a result he’d looked at the pictures over and over again until he almost had them memorized. Was he wrong?

  He dropped the infamous envelope onto his dresser, for the first time looking for the sender’s address. There was none. But finding out the identity wasn’t a problem. Taking the envelope into his office, he booted up his computer. Rolling his head around, he tried to crack his neck in the hope that some of the tension would be relieved. When that didn’t work he opted for a shower. He could research the package when he finished.

  Hot water streamed over his honey-toned skin as he stood beneath the sprinkler, head bowed, eyes closed. He loved her, of that there was no doubt. And if these pictures weren’t of her, which he was now reasonably sure they weren’t, then he had two problems. Who would go to such drastic measures to separate them, and how would he win Reka back?

  He remembered the look on her face when he walked into her office: concern. But when he spoke to her, when he instructed her to open the envelope, that concern had quickly faded. Shock. Confusion. Then realization. He recalled the exact moment that the pictures and their impact settled into her mind. The usual gleam in her eyes had shifted. Anger was clear, disappointment presumed, but hurt, that was definite. As if he thought he’d been in enough pain, remembering the look she’d given him only squeezed his heart tighter. Could a woman who was caught in her lies still manage to look that way?

  He hadn’t verbally accused her, but then he didn’t need to. The pictures and his attitude most likely spoke for themselves. Cursing again, he washed, then stepped out of the shower. He’d dried off and was just slipping on a pair of shorts when his doorbell rang. He paused, looked toward his bedroom door and felt a jolt of his heart. Was it Reka? Had she come to talk about this?

  His feet moved him to find out even as he thought it would be more likely for Reka to be stopping by to finish the argument. She’d wanted to say more to him; he’d seen her struggle to hold back. But now he was probably about to receive the full brunt of her anger.

  Swinging the door open, he looked into familiar eyes, but not the ones he wanted to see. Before he could speak she’d brushed past him. “Hi, darling. I hated the way we ended things the last time we talked, so I thought I’d stop by.”

  For a moment Khalil still held the door open, shocked at seeing her and amazed at her casualness. But then, she had no idea he suspected her of being involved with those pictures. That could play to his advantage. “Ah, yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about that, too.” Closing the door, he walked into the living room where she’d already shed her coat, dropping it on the chair. She looked good in her ivory pant suit and shoes. Her hair was perfect, her face the picture of a model, but in her eyes—you could always tell the truth of a person through their eyes—he saw a spark of triumph.

  “You look tired, Khalil. Are you sleeping okay?” Sonya asked.

  Yeah, she was enjoying this. What she didn’t know was that he was about to have some fun himself. “Actually, no. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. Re-evaluating, I guess you could say.” He moved until he was standing directly in front of her, lifting his hand to toy with a strand of her hair.

  Her smile warmed as she touched a palm to his cheek. “Oh, poor baby. Can I do anything to help?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m just so confused right now.”

  Sonya took a step closer, her victory all but bubbling over inside. He was naked except for his shorts, and she realized with a start how truly handsome Khalil was. All that smooth golden skin, the small splatter of dark curls on his chest, the tight muscles of his abs. Her mouth actually watered. With both hands she felt the strength in his shoulders, then let her hands roam the length of his torso. “I can make it better, Khalil. Remember how we were together?” she whispered into his ear. She remembered, but had a feeling that tonight with him would be different.

  “I’m not sure sex is the solution for what I’m going through.” Khalil restrained himself, allowed her to touch him, though every second she spoke convinced him she was definitely in on the picture scheme. He wished he’d had the opportunity to find out who the sender was, but this might be even better. But how to get her to confess? Her hands wrapped around him, cupped his buttocks, and he found his answer.

  “I can make you feel so much better, baby. If you let me.” She kissed along his chest, laving his nipple before slipping her hands beneath the band of his shorts.

  Closing his eyes, Khalil convinced himself that this was the only way. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her closer. “You’re the only one I can trust, Sonya.”

  She sighed. “That’s right, baby. I am.”

  His hands moved up and down her back, stopping just before her bottom. “I just feel so betrayed right now. I feel like every time I give my trust it’s thrown back in my face.”

  “You can trust me, Khalil.” She kissed his neck, the line of his jaw, then hovered momentarily over his lips. “I love you.”

  “You do?” he asked, amazed at how well she lied.

  “Yes, baby, I do. I’d do anything to keep us together, Khalil. Just tell me what you want me to do.” She traced her tongue over his bottom lip, was about to delve inside when he grabbed her hair roughly. Every bell inside her body rang, and heat and moisture soared to her center. “What do you want?” she whispered.

  He tugged on her hair a little harder, until she arched backward, her throat bared, her pulse quickening. Her eyes had darkened, and he realized it was because his roughness had aroused her. This was not the Sonya he’d known. “Tell me how you know Donovan Jackson.”

  Sonya blinked. “What? Who? What does he have to do with us?”

  She grasped his arms, her nails skimming his skin. “If you want us to be together again I have to know how you know him. I have to make sure that it’s just me and you.”

  Sonya licked her lips. “Yes, it’s just me and you, Khalil. I’ve never really wanted anybody else.”

  “Did you want Donovan?”

  “No.”

  He pulled her hair a little more. “The truth, Sonya.” Then he lightened his grip. “Or we can’t get back together.”

  Her breathing was erratic, her nipples hard
and straining against her blouse. He looked positively dangerous, and his hands on her were rough and hard. She wanted him, oh she wanted him badly. “Just for a while. Just while you were running around with her. I needed somebody.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Where did you meet him?”

  “At a party or something.” She was wiggling in his arms, trying like hell to increase the contact of their bodies. “Baby, let me take my jacket off.”

  “Not yet. I like how you look right now.”

  She smiled. “Is it over between you and her?”

  He prayed it wasn’t. “I found out she was cheating.”

  A smirk slipped over her lips. “I told you she wasn’t good enough for you. She’s just a tramp, just like Donovan. I knew you’d see that the moment…” Her words broke off.

  Lifting a hand, Khalil rubbed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. It quivered. “The moment I what?” he whispered.

  It was a good thing he was holding her up or Sonya would have melted right then and there. Why hadn’t he showed her this side of him before? “I already knew she was still sleeping with him when I saw you on Thanksgiving. Donovan is into a lot of kinky stuff.”

  “Kinky?” Khalil purposely rubbed his chest against hers and watched as her eyes fluttered. She was clearly aroused, and to a point that he’d never seen before. When had she become so wanton? “What do you know about kinky, Sonya? I thought you were a good girl.”

  She purred. “I am a good girl, baby. I’m your good girl.” His finger was still close enough that when she extended her tongue it touched the lone digit. “But I can show you so many bad things.”

  “Really?” He wanted nothing more than to throw her to the floor. A sick and disgusting feeling was roiling through him. “What can you show me?” She opened her mouth to speak and he quieted her with a finger over her lips. “Shhh, let me tell you what I want you to show me. I want to have you,” he dragged his finger down the line of her neck, watched her smile, “and another woman. I want us all in bed. Together.”