by CY Jones
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he murmurs at a loss for words but that one. The fact he can’t think straight spurs me on and I continue on with my mission.
I choke myself on his dick, taking him deep down my throat and hold still until tears form in my eyes and I pull up, just to do it again. When I start to hum against him, he loses his shit and his dick begins to throb. Pulling out, I pump his dick in a quick succession with my hand and he cums, roaring my name. I aim for my open mouth and face, liking the way his seed feels sliding down my skin.
“Fuck, that’s hot. No one has ever taken a cumshot to the face for me before,” he says once he can talk. Pulling me to my feet, he kisses me, not caring that my face is a mess with his seed.
“I’m not like most girls,” I tell him once he pulls away.
“No, you’re not. You’re my special girl. Most porn stars couldn’t do what you just did to me, but I’ve been falling for your tricks way before that epic blow job.” And he should know, I heard he’s been with a couple.
I give him a smug smile, happy now that I’ve marked my territory. Let’s see those bitches top that.
“As much as I want to explore your limits and cross off other things on my fuck bucket list, we need to get ready.”
“Get ready for what?” I ask, curious.
“We have a dinner date, remember? Don’t tell me you forgot already?”
“Wait, what? You actually agreed to that?”
“Not quite. I told him you can go as long as me and Nichole are there.”
“Oh,” I say. I don’t know why I’m disappointed. This is what’s best. I told Grayson as much today in his office.
To make sure we shower quickly, Tyson uses the shower in the guest room while I get ready in our bedroom. Not knowing what to wear, I chose a simple all black cocktail dress that flows around me and ballet flats. Besides it being black, it is kind of a girly choice for me, but surprisingly, I find that I like it. It brings out a softer side in me that rarely ventures out. I went light with my makeup as well, applying my mascara, cat eyes, and a dark burgundy lip.
“You look beautiful,” Tyson says once he walks in the bedroom. The black on black suit he’s wearing fits him perfectly and makes me want to drool all over him. They say men look good out of clothes, but I’ll take Tyson in a perfectly tailored suit over some naked Joe anyday.
“With that look, I take it you approve,” he chides.
“Oh, I more than approve. You look absolutely sinful. Are you sure we can’t get a quick fuck in?” I ask.
“God, I’ve made a monster out of you. Come on before I give in,” he says, ushering me off the bed and out the room.
“Why? I love it when you lose control,” I reply, playing devil’s advocate.
Laughing, he leads me down the stairs and like a gentleman, helps me into my coat. At the last second, he throws something in his own coat pocket, but he was too quick for me to see. Maybe it was his keys or something. Instead of his Porsche, Tyson opens the passenger door to his slick Aston Martin Vanquish and I sink into the leather seat like butter, inhaling the new car scent. I don’t know a lot about cars, but I know this one is pure luxury. I’m surprised he’s driving it tonight. He usually only takes it out on special occasions.
“Did I miss some sort of rich people holiday?” I ask once he starts the car. The engine purrs to life and I get wet just from the vibrations.
“No, you didn’t miss anything.”
“So what’s the deal? Why are we taking this car?”
“Can’t I want to drive my girl around in style without having an alternative motive?”
“You can, but I don’t know if I believe you. My spidey senses are tingling.”
“What?” He laughs.
“Haven’t you seen any of the Spiderman movies, or at least read the comics?” I ask incredulously, which only sends him into another fit of laughter.
When he finally calms down, he wipes his eyes and replies, “I swear there’s never a dull moment with you. And to answer your question, no, I haven’t for either.”
I gasp, giving him a horrified look. “You poor boy. I had no idea you’re a product of child abuse. Don’t tell me Garfield made you read law manuals all through your childhood?”
“Quite the opposite actually. He encouraged pop culture. I just had my eye on the prize, even at a young age.”
“Have you always wanted to be a lawyer?” I ask, curious.
“Yep, filling my father shoes is all I ever wanted. What about you? Was there something in particular you wanted to do?”
“No, not really. All I ever wanted to do was leave my small hometown and the people in it. As soon as I turned eighteen and graduated from high school, I was out of there.”
“What about your family? You don’t really talk about them. All I know about them is from the report compiled from the fertility clinic.”
“What’s to tell? The only family I have left is my mama and you know where she is. My daddy ran off when I was five, so who knows if that loser is even still alive. The rest of my so-called relatives never cared to know me and stayed nonexistent.”
“That had to be hard,” he says and I hum.
“What about you? All you ever talk about is your dad.”
“Like you, my family isn’t really worth mentioning. My mom died of an overdose when I was twelve, and a year later her parents died in a plane crash. My dad is great, and never made me feel left out, but his parents on the other hand, stay away most of the time unless we have some sort of high society function. I also have a ladder climbing aunt working on her third marriage and two baby cousins.”
“Ladder climbing, what’s that?” I ask, frowning.
“Of course you don’t know what that is. I love how naive you are to my world; it’s refreshing. When I’m with you, I don’t have the same fears as I did with other women. With you, there’s no using me for my money or where I can get you in the social pecking order. With you, I know you love me for me as I do you.”
We arrive at the restaurant and he stops the car in front of the valet and palms my cheek before he gives me a teasing kiss, which still makes me light and giddy. The love in his eyes outshines the sun, and I’m blinded by him.
“Are you going to tell me what a ladder climber is?” I ask again
“It’s someone you’ll never be,” he answers in a husky voice and I accept his answer, feeling like we just had one of those tender moments that you’re lucky to have in a relationship.
Tyson opens his door, stepping out the car and the valet opens mine. Tossing the keys to him, he teases the guy about being a lawyer and he better take good care of his car. By the pale look on the valet's face, I don’t think he knows Tyson is only kidding. The cool air picks up and I snuggle close to Tyson, holding on to his arm tightly.
Once inside, I look around at the opulence of our surroundings. The high ceilings, golden chandeliers with real crystals, and expensively dressed patrons around us, this is definitely one of those well to do restaurants where the rich take their friends to show off their wealth. I wonder who picked it? Grayson or Tyson.
“Mr. Garfield, it’s nice to see you this evening. We have your table ready and your guests have already arrived,” the stuck up looking hostess hurries over, greeting only him. I guess that answers whose idea it was to come here. I wonder why Tyson would pick something so stuck up?
Tyson pulls me closer to his side as we follow the hostess to the back of the restaurant and a table tucked in it’s own private area. It was all so romantic and I wish Tyson didn’t go through so much trouble. Like the gentleman he is, Tyson takes my coat from me and holds my chair out as Grayson stands. Both these guys must have aced etiquette class. I’m not fooling myself that they haven’t gone.
“Is there anything else you need?” The hostess asks, still only addressing Tyson.
“No, nothing else.”
“Okay, sir. I’ll send your waiter right over.” When she's gone, Nichole gives me a wi
de smile.
“Evening, Jade. You look absolutely beautiful. Pregnancy suits you.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Have you two been waiting long?” Tyson asks.
“No, we got here a little before you. I’m surprised you chose this place. Even more surprised you got a table on such short notice and a private one at that,” McHottie says. I’m trying to read his body language, wondering if he’s upset about Tyson and his wife tagging along.
In his usual lazy drawl, Tyson waves Grayson off. “It was nothing. Once they knew the table was for a Garfield, they were tripping over themselves to accommodate me.”
“Must be nice.” I’m surprised Nichole's words have so much bite in them. Usually, she’s all sunshine and unicorn farts, especially with rich people problems. At the confused look on my face, she schools her face back to neutral. “I’m sorry. This place is rather hard to get into. I forget at times that the Garfield’s own this city.”
“What do you mean?” I ask and Tyson gives Nichole a nasty glare.
“Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?” Nichole says but it sounds more like a taunt than casual conversation.
“Tell me what?” At that moment the waitress chooses to come take our order. Having no idea what they serve here and not having had a chance to even look at the menu, Tyson orders for me. Once the waiter takes all our orders, I repeat my question.
“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Nichole questions.
“Oh, do continue, you’ve gone this far,” Tyson drawls. His words may sound like he couldn’t careless, but I can see straight through his mask. The tension is thick, almost choking, and Tyson fisting his hands is the only sign he’s bothered at the turn this dinner has taken.
“Why sweetheart, Tyson here is old money and the second richest family in New York. His father practically owns this city with the family business and all. Why do you think the paps follow him around like he’s royalty?” Nichole looks smug and I wonder what her agenda is. She should know by now I couldn’t care less about money. With the two wolves at the table, I thought she was a harmless sheep, turns out she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“What’s your point, Nichole? Tyson isn’t the first rich family I’ve run across and I doubt he’ll be the last.” She frowns her pretty face. This isn’t the reply she wanted to hear from me. Maybe she thought I’d be uneasy, like the other day when we went shopping, but I learned that as long as I hang around people like them, this is my new normal and I shouldn’t get offended. Tyson blows out a relieved breath and I grab his hand in support. It seems like Nichole was trying to break me and Tyson up and I couldn’t figure out why. In her eyes, am I good enough to fuck her husband, but not have a man like Tyson?
The waiter comes back with our drinks and I suck up my lemonade through my straw like I’m sipping on one of those fruity alcoholic drinks that pack a punch when you least expect it. I wish I had one about now, but I settled with this for now.
“I thought you would like to know that I kept Nancy on, although she is no longer my personal secretary,” Grayson tells me.
Frowning, I reply, “I hope she took it well.” The last thing I need is a vengeful Nancy coming after me.
“She did. I told her you were the one to convince me she should keep her job, but I can’t have anyone working for me and shifting through important documents who enjoys spreading rumors, so she’ll be sent back down to the lower levels until she can prove herself. Bad news for you is that I’m in need of a secretary and that’ll be your job until HR fills the spot.”
I groan at that and mutter, “Great.”
“You’re making it sound like it’s torture to work for me,” McHottie says, raising a perfectly arched brow.
“It’s not that. It’s just double the work now. I thought I was supposed to be lessening my workload,” I gripe.
“You are. Grayson can make do until a replacement is found or use a junior associate until the position is filled,” Tyson suggests.
“Who? They are all snooty about answering phones,” I comment.
“They’ll do it if a partner asks,” McHottie interjects and I can’t argue with that. All the junior associates in there are all ass kissers.
When the food arrives, I bypass all proper etiquette and dig in. I’ve never had lamb before, but it was quite tasty, especially dipped in the white wine sauce it was served with. I could close my eyes and pretend all the alcohol wasn’t cooked off. Used to my eating habits, the rest of the table grows quiet for the rest of the meal and we’re able to have enjoyable conversation without the tension like when we first got here.
When the plates are cleared away and dessert, some sort of fancy chocolate mousse which I forgot the name of after the waiter said chocolate, is served, Nichole says, “So, Tyson, what’s the special occasion? There has to be a reason why you brought us here.”
“I said the same thing in the car,” I reply over another spoonful. I was in heaven and I moaned appreciatively at the chocolatey goodness sliding down my throat. Tyson ignores Nichole’s question, staring at me with blown out pupils. I know exactly what’s on his mind. I’m definitely getting some as soon as we get home. When I dip my spoon back in my dish and take another spoonful, something metal clicks against my teeth. I spit it out in the palm of my hand and stare amazed at the huge chocolate covered diamond ring. Confused, I look over at Tyson. He’s no longer sitting in his seat, but on one knee before me. My head swivels back and forth from my hand toTyson as my mind is too slow to make the connection. When I do, I gasp, shocked.
“Jade, I told you you’re my jewel, one of a kind that can never be replicated. You’re it for me. No one can make me feel the way you do. Our time apart only taught me I can never live without you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
“I-I…” I stutter. What the hell? I knew he was up to something, but never in a million years did I suspect he’d propose. Am I even ready for that step? We haven’t known each other for long and didn’t Nichole say he’s like filthy rich? But this is Tyson. While we were apart, he nagged my brain and how much it would hurt if I lost him for good. Now I know he’s serious about me. I don’t think I can turn him down. “Yes,” I finally answer after having my inner battle in my head. Tears run freely down my face and my vision blurs. The waiter, who must have been standing by, politely takes the ring from me and cleans it off before giving it to Tyson, who slides it on my finger. I’m overjoyed and also confused. This seriously can’t be my life. Tyson Garfield can’t possibly love me enough to be his wife.
“This can’t be happening,” Nichole says in a low voice and I turn my attention to her.
“What do you mean?”
“This can’t be fucking happening,” she says, louder this time and I’m more surprised at her cursing than her actual words. I didn’t even know she knew what a curse word was. “No, Jade, I forbid it. You can’t marry him.”
“Why the fuck not? You’re not her keeper,” Tyson yells. He’s pissed and I can’t say I blame him. Who does she think she is? My mother?
“Nichole, love, are you okay? Usually I wouldn’t agree with Tyson, but he’s right. You have no say in who Jade chooses to marry.”
“No, can’t you see?” she says, jumping to her feet. “He’s ruining everything. All my careful plans, ruined,” she shouts in a shrill voice. Grayson stands to calm her down, but she just pushes him away, too far gone in her tangent. Turning wild eyes on me she shouts,“You can’t marry him; do you hear me? I won’t allow it.” She grabs onto me in a surprisingly strong grip and I try to pry her off. What the hell? Nichole has gone completely batshit.
Grayson grabs her again, with help from Tyson and they both try to pry her off of me before she falls onto the floor in a fit of coughs. By now, the manager has come to see what all the commotion is about while our waiter looks on with wide terrified eyes. I’m sure if we weren’t tucked away, everyone here would be trying to see what the spectacle is.
St
rong arms pull me to him and I bury my head in Tyson’s chest, inhaling his comforting scent. When Nichole’s coughing doesn’t subside, the manager hands her an unused cloth napkin from the table. I hear a crash and then Grayson’s frantic words of, “Call 911.” I swivel my head back over to Nichole to find she was the source of the crash as she has passed out, crumpled to the floor with the cloth napkin she was given covered in blood and with more of it dripping from her mouth.
29
Grayson
I’m numb as I sit back, holding Nichole’s limp hand tightly in my own grasp. The only noise in the room is the beeping of the machine, telling me for now she’s still alive. It’s been two months since she passed out at the restaurant and slipped into a coma and she has yet to wake. Two months since I’ve learned she’s been lying to me. I love this woman more than anything in this world, but I also hate her for the lies she told. The wheels she set in motion, knowing she will not be here to see it through.
Her cancer was back more aggressive this time and she has only mere months left to live. She could have told me. Let me be there for her so we could have found a solution. Cost doesn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her living and breathing beside me. She beat it once. Why did she think she couldn’t beat it again? Why did she decide to go at it alone and leave me in the dark? And Jade? Why bring a baby into this world when you knew you were not going to be around to raise it? Now that I know the truth, her always pushing me on Jade makes a lot of fucking sense. How she practically begged me to fuck someone else. She was lining up her replacement without giving me a fucking say in the manner. “My clever, clever wife, your schemes have destroyed me.”
