I looked at him as lovingly as possible and assured him that I wouldn’t abandon him. But wasn’t sure I believed that. I didn’t really know who this man was. There was no way I would run away to another country with man who had hidden this secret life from me. A wife and kids that he never talked about. And on top of that hiring someone to kill the mother of his children? I didn’t feel safe being in the same apartment with him, let alone in a foreign country where I didn’t know anyone and couldn’t speak the language. I knew he was hurt and wounded, but so was I. Samantha was right. It was time that I finally stood up for myself. I had to protect myself. The old me would have stayed with him, trying somehow to rationalize the lies and the brutality. But I had been through that once before and I knew where it ended: drunk on the floor all alone, reeking of alcohol, cigarettes and cum. But still I wanted to believe, despite what I could clearly see, that this man who had penetrated me so deeply, had filled me up so completely, and had promised me the life of artist which I had always dreamed of, was the perfect man.
I noticed that his cock was beginning to stiffen. It stretched down his thigh. I took into my hands and began rubbing its huge, bulbous head against my clit. It wasn’t long before I was wet.
He fucked me with every ounce of strength he had in his body. He fucked me like this was the last time he might ever fuck a woman again. He scratched and clawed my back and I did the same and both of us had blood underneath our ravenous fingernails. I screamed for him to fuck me, to fuck my pussy. He grunted and jammed his rod to the hilt. With each thrust his big balls slapped against my clit. He picked me up and pounded me against the wall. My body went wild with lust. I felt like I was possessed; I shook and trembled involuntarily; a thick stream of cum dripped out of my pussy and down my thighs. I screamed. He grunted then his seed exploded inside of me. We collapsed on the floor. I laid my head on his heaving chest. He closed his eyes and put his hands behind his neck. His cock lay like a big salami on his chest. I gently took it into my mouth and licked off our mingled juices.
I don’t why but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. I know I should have bolted out of his apartment the first chance I got, but I didn’t. Instead I went with him to his house in Greenwich, Connecticut. It was a five-acre nature lover’s paradise overlooking a lake. We fished, canoed and kayaked; we sipped champagne, kissed, and chatted for hours in the outdoor hot tub. On the third night there he told me his plan, the diabolical scheme that would make us both rich: high-end art forgeries.
“Just think,” he said. You won’t have to worry about money anymore. Ever”
“I don’t think I could do something like that,” I said. “It seems so dishonest.”
He snickered. “Stop being so damn naive.” Many famous paintings hanging in renowned museums are forgeries.”
When I hesitated before agreeing, he assured me that he was getting out of the business. This would be the last forgery that he put on the market. It was an early century Thompkins—extremely rare. A buyer willing to pay millions was already lined up.
“Who’s been painting these for you during the last three years?” I asked.
He seemed annoyed by the question, looked away, and said something under his breath that I couldn’t make out.
He told me that I could start tomorrow morning. He would walk me through the complicated and meticulous process. The painting had to be completed in three days time. There was no time to waste. He kissed me gently, squeezed in his arms and led me to an upstairs bedroom, a different bedroom from the one we had slept in the previous two nights. I was too exhausted and overwhelmed by his revelation to ask why he wanted me to sleep in there.
When I woke up a few hours later it was still dark. My mouth was dry and I wanted to get something to drink from the kitchen. I turned the door, but it must have stuck or jammed. I jiggled it vigorously. Nothing. Maybe he locked it accidentally I thought. I started banging on the door and calling his name. I heard footsteps approaching.
“Go back to sleep, he said from the other side of the door. “You’ll need to be rested in the morning.”
“Thomas, let me out! Let me out!” I screamed. I heard his feet stomping away and the stairs.
I panicked, started banging on the door, screaming hysterically. After a few minutes I fell to floor and began crying. He’s going to kill me, I thought, I know he is. I thought about how stupid and naive I had been in coming here; how stupid it was for me to trust him again after he had already lied to me about not having a wife. Why would I have ever trusted such a man? I tried to imagine all the horrible ways he would kill me or torture me or both. When that became too much to bear, I began walking around the room. I stopped at the window. It was pitch black outside so I couldn’t see how far down the drop was. I grabbed a book of the bed stand and let it drop out the window. From the sound the drop only seemed to be about ten feet. I had no other choice. But where would I go once I got down there? It was impossible to see anything through the darkness. There was no point in jumping out the window if I wasn’t going to be able to get away. A few minutes I heard the sound of what had to be a car approaching or driving past. Yes! I saw headlights coming from a road that was about fifty years away. This was my chance.
I opened the window all the way, put one leg over the window, then the other. I let myself. I fell into a thicket of bushes. They scratched my skin but my adrenaline was pumping so fast that I hardly noticed. I took off for the main road. One of my shoes fell off but I kept running. Another set of car lights streamed down the main road. I ran as fast I could and managed to get the attention of the driver. I spoke hurriedly, breathlessly. He seemed to understand how desperate I was. He told me to get in and then drove me to the nearest police station where I spent the next several hours explaining to two detectives what exactly had happened to me. They told me that the NYPD had been investigating Thomas for the murder of the painter who had worked for him before he had chosen me as his mark: Amanda Lavreaux.
When I got back into the city the next day, the story was front page news:
***Art Patron Charged with Murder of Brilliant Young Painter
New York—A former investment banker turned art patron has been charged with the grisly murder of promising New York artist Amanda Lavreaux. The victim’s body was found in her West Village apartment. She appeared to have been strangled and suffocated. The suspect, Thomas Wilson, left Wall Street for the art world three years ago and has used his big money and wide-ranging connections to become a major player in the international art forgery market. Authorities believe Ms. Lavreaux, a star in New York City art circles, was both Mr. Wilson’s lover and the painter whom he called on to produce the high-priced forgeries. Police suspect that Ms. Lavreaux may have been killed because she threatened to expose both Wilson and his partners. Police are also investigating whether Wilson has been plotting to kill his wife to keep her from disclosing his criminal activities.
I couldn’t read anymore. The paper was shaking in my hands. If I hadn’t jumped out that window and had refused to participate in his criminal activities, he would probably have killed me. I felt lucky to be alive and hungry to start on my next series of paintings.
THE END
Bonus 18 of 20
NBA Super Star
Description
James had one shot at making it with the NBA Wild Cats. He was excited about having his chance. Though there were quite a few men who were trying out for the same team he wasn’t sure he was going to make it. When his brother comes in right before his name is called he has more faith than ever, hoping to have a big celebration after he makes the team. He doesn’t know what’s in store for him when he leaves it up to Anthony to plan out his celebration. It’s a celebration of a life time!
Chapter 1
James was a tall, handsome man with sandy brown hair and light brown eyes. He was twenty-three and trying out for one of the biggest sports in the United States. He was trying out for the NBA, he could imagine it now being on telev
ision just knowing that his friends and family would be seeing him. He was going to be a sports star just like he had always dreamed he would since he was little.
James imagined the fans who would want his autograph and the women that he would be dating. He wasn’t going to settle down, wanting to see what kind of women were out there. He was looking for exciting, exotic women that could fill his satisfaction when it came to pleasing him. He hoped that he would come across some women who wouldn’t mind doing what he wanted when he wanted to.
“I wanted to wish you luck on tryouts tonight,” A male’s voice said from behind him.
James smiled, he knew that voice anywhere. It was a step brother from back home, not just any friend but his best friend.
“Hey, I didn’t think anyone who looked familiar would be around.” James turned around, taking his eyes off the large basketball court.
His brother, Anthony, was standing there with a smile of his own on his face. James gave him a big hug and was even happier that someone had taken the time to come and see him on the big night. That night was going to make him or break him.
Anthony was twenty-four with short black hair and dark blue eyes. He was just slightly shorter than James was and more masculine. He had a tanned body from being out in the sun, he was a roofer and that’s how he had stayed in shape for a few years.
“Everything is going to be great, you’ve got the talent,” Anthony told him as they let go of each other.
“I’m not going to lie, I’m a little nervous. I mean who wouldn’t be? It’s the NBA,” James said, looking around and seeing a few more guys coming through the double doors.
“Don’t worry about it, they have nothing on you. The scouts wanted you for a reason, they see a lot of potential in you and they know that you have talent. They’ve seen it at numerous games and that’s why they put you on the list. This is going to be great for you,” Anthony assured him, seeing the worried look in his brother’s eyes.
He didn’t have to ask if he was worried, after the years of knowing each other he just knew. He saw the tension in his brother’s body and the way he stood but he also saw that James kept his head held high.
“There are ten men here for tryouts and they’re only going to pick two. I’m sure whoever doesn’t make it they will be picked up by someone else. I mean that’s how it goes. One team doesn’t take you another team will. Either way I’m going to make it.” James gave him the look that he could do anything he set his mind to.
“You really want to play for this team?” Anthony asked him.
“The Wild Cats have always been a dream of mine, they are my favorite team. If they don’t pick me up I will be grateful to play for any team,” James replied as he nodded his head firmly.
He wasn’t going to be upset or picky when it came to what team he played on. This was the team they had chosen him for and he couldn’t believe it when one of the scouts had come up to him after a college game and told him who they were and what they wanted.
That night had been a big deal for him, he had gone out to dinner with his family and then went out partying with his friends. Celebrating to have the chance to tryout, everyone that he knew was proud of him. Girls that never noticed him in college were asking for his number that night at the bar and he just waved them off. If he wasn’t good enough before everyone found out about his shot at the NBA, then he was going to make them feel as if they weren’t good enough now that they knew his name.
“After you make the team, we are going to go out and party hard. We’re going to party so hard that you’re going to forget what we did and I’m going to have to remind you.” Anthony laughed, thinking about the celebration that was going to take place after making the team.
“I don’t want to party that hard, you really want to do something awesome for me?” James raised his eyebrows at him.
“Sure.” Anthony would do anything for him if he could.
“Find a woman that wouldn’t mind sharing her time and body with us.” James winked at him.
Anthony couldn’t tell if James was kidding around or not. He saw a grin on his face but there was no laughter behind it to let him know that he was just teasing him.
“I already have someone in mind,” Anthony told him, smirking at him. He knew that if James was kidding around he would’ve made a comment about his statement but he made none.
“James Matthews, is there a James Matthews here?” A man with a clipboard was walking towards the men that were already taking the court to practice.
“Here, I’m here!” James called out, going down the bleachers and making his way to the court.
“Fantastic.” The man looked up at him and gave him an encouraging smile.
Anthony looked at the clock it was only two in the afternoon, tryouts didn’t start until eight that evening. He had plenty of time to take off and come back before the tryouts even started.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Are we going to be able to come back in if we leave for a few hours?” James asked, knowing he wasn’t going to stay for eight hours before the tryouts began.
“Yes, you all may leave whenever you want to. Just be here an hour before tryouts. I want all of you to know that this is a closed tryout session. In the past, we’ve had open tryouts but we’ve come to find out that it just takes more attention away from the players. Again, this is a closed tryout session,” the man told the men that were already there.
Anthony and James made eye contact with each other. Anthony was glad that James could take a few hours and hang out, in California there was plenty to do.
Anthony got off the bleachers and waited for James, they walked out together and Anthony grinned at him. By the next day, James’s life was going to change even if he didn’t make the team, James was soon to become a popular man all over the world when it came to basketball fanatics.
Chapter 2
“What are we going to do for a few hours?” James asked when they got into Anthony’s car, wondering how they were going to spend their day.
“I have a friend who we’re going to visit and go from there. I haven’t seen her in a long time. She’d be mad if I showed up and didn’t visit her,” Anthony told him, starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
Anthony had grown up in California that’s where his and James’ parents met when they were younger. When James was fifteen years old his family wanted to move away to Texas and he had decided to stay behind. He had moved in with Anthony’s aunt when she realized how hard it was for James to leave with his family. He didn’t want to leave and it had caused a big fight until Anthony’s aunt stepped in and gave them the option of letting James stay with her. It had been a hard decision for James’ parents but James had won.
Anthony had moved to Florida when he had hit eighteen but once he had heard the good news he knew that he had to be here for James. Their parents couldn’t make it and that was a big disappointment to James. He knew that so there was no way that he was going to let James down when he called and told him that no one was going to be there for him. Everyone knew but no one wanted to take the time out of their own busy life to watch basketball tryouts when they thought it was an open session.
Anthony pulled up to a white house that was so big it looked like a mansion. He shut his car off and felt a smile come across his face. He hadn’t seen his friend Carrie since he had moved. He hardly kept in touch with her so she was going to be surprised. The only things he knew about her now was that she was single and a model for dirty magazines that were all over the state of California. The reason she could afford such a big house and the expensive cars that she had bragged about over social media.
“I thought we were getting out? We’re wasting time,” James groaned seeing that Anthony was finally getting out of the car and he followed suite. Glad that he could spend time with Anthony himself. He didn’t get to see Anthony that much.
They both walked up the stairs to the big house and James stood behind Anthony he
didn’t know anyone there. He saw that Anthony knew what he was doing and kept his mouth shut.
Anthony knocked three times before he saw the doorbell on the side and he pushed his finger down on it.
He stood there for a few minutes and thought that she wasn’t home. He was hoping that he hadn’t missed her because it was the only time that he’d be able to talk with her in person and try to help James out.
Just as he was about to turn away from the door someone opened it. It was a short, dark, woman and she had a maid’s uniform on that’s when he knew that Carrie had maids and butlers that worked for her.
“Does Carrie Oliver live here?” Anthony asked, making sure that it was the right place to begin with.
“Carrie!” the woman hollered, making Anthony jump. For such a short lady, she had a loud mouth on her.
Anthony heard footsteps coming from upstairs and when he saw her she took his breath away. The way she looked at him, the way she was dressed and the smile when she realized who it was at the door. It was as if he was staring into the face of a famous woman. In a way, he supposed she was because of the magazines she was on, almost all of them up and down the streets had her face on the front page.
“Anthony!” Carrie cried out as she took him by his hand and pulled him into the house.
Anthony had noticed that the maid had disappeared when Carrie came to the door, where she had taken off to he didn’t know.
Carrie looked at the young man behind Anthony and her smile grew wider. She enjoyed company and Anthony’s was the best kind of company in the past couple of months.
“Come on in,” Carrie replied, seeing that James was just standing there.
Carrie had long, blonde hair and light blue eyes. She had a touch of makeup on and looking at the jewelry she was wearing he could tell that she was doing good for herself. Looking at her fingers he noticed that she didn’t have a wedding band on her ring finger, her ring fingers had no rings on them, it made him feel at ease asking her knowing that she wasn’t attached.
Dedicated: MF Priest and Single Mother Page 55
