Betrayal (12 page)

“That’s a good idea.” Ariel nodded her head in agreement. The joyous feeling she had earlier was slowly dissipating, as she thought about Michele alone with Preston. “I would go back to Washington in the morning, but I’ve already started working on a project with one of the New York partners, and can’t leave now,” she explained.

“In that case, I suggest you go to the Black Door tonight, and talk with Trey to circumvent a potential catastrophe,” she said, with concern in her voice.

Just hearing the name of the club made goose bumps spring up on Ariel’s arms. She hadn’t been back to the Black Door since she ran out on Trey after they had made love and his mask fell off. She’d seen Trey the few times when he came to D.C. to visit Michele, and they were cordial with each other. And of course she’d seen him last year at the grand opening of Hirschfield Multimedia. Ariel was at the opening as a guest of one of the partners, and was surprised to see Trey. Their being at the same party was coincidental, but timely. She was in New York for business, and had planned on stopping by the Black Door to talk to him. Preston had been treating her indifferently, and she immediately thought that he had regained his memory. She needed to consult Trey as to how they should proceed. When
she spoke to him at the party, and told him of her suspicions, he didn’t appear to be alarmed. Initially he said that he didn’t know what they were going to do. After a second thought, he said for Ariel to keep a close eye on Preston for any behavioral changes. And unless Preston straight-out asked her about the affair, she should under no circumstances confess to cheating on him. Ariel agreed, and when she returned to Washington a few days later, Preston was back to his normal self.

“You’re right. As much as I want to stay for dinner, I need to take care of my business, and unfortunately that business is at the Black Door.” Ariel poured another flute of champagne, and guzzled it down in one smooth gulp. She needed the alcohol to drown the butterflies that had started to flutter in the pit of her stomach. The thought of seeing Trey alone was making her nervous, but with Michele on the rampage, Ariel realized that she couldn’t put off talking to Trey any longer.

“Daarling, I totally understand. Let me know what happens,” Meri said, standing up. She walked Ariel to the door, and gave her a tight hug for support. “Good luck, daarling.”

Downstairs, Ariel asked Frank to turn on the taxi light outside of the building, and within a few minutes a cab was pulling up to the curb.

“One-fifty-sixth and Riverside Drive,” she said to the driver, then leaned into the backseat, closed her eyes, and prayed for strength. Even though their affair was long over, deep down inside, she still had a weakness for Trey. He brought out the sex goddess in her that she never knew existed. Though she and Preston had a healthy sex life, Trey made her want to do X-rated things she had never before dreamed of. Even the thought of their last tryst was making her wet. Ariel opened her eyes and tried to shake off the feeling of lust building up inside of her.
What’s wrong with you? He’s your stepson now! Get a grip!
she scolded herself.

“That’ll be twelve fifty,” the driver said, interrupting her reverie.

Ariel was so preoccupied that she didn’t realize the taxi was parked outside the club. She looked out the window at the massive shiny
black door of the building, and chills ran up her spine. She wanted to get out, but her body was frozen. The thought of entering the Black Door was paralyzing. She knew the decadence that lay beyond the threshold, and wasn’t ready to enter that world again. “Driver, I’ve changed my mind. Can you take me to Sixty-first and Central Park West?”

Instead of venturing inside the Black Door and tempting fate, Ariel opted to return to the safety of the corporate apartment. As much as she needed to have a conversation with Trey, she wasn’t ready for a face-to-face, at least not yet.
I’ll call information, and get the number to the main office of the club
, she thought. A telephone conversation she could deal with, but seeing his handsome face up close and personal was a little too much to bear.

PRESTON WOKE
up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The sheets were tangled around his feet, and his pajamas were soaking wet. The nightmare that jolted him awake was frightening. He wasn’t being chased by headless monsters, trapped on a runaway train, or about to plunge to his death from a skyscraper, but the dream was frightening nonetheless. The realism of the dream made it more terrifying than fending off evil demons. He dreamed that Ariel was having an affair! In the dream she was in their bed making love to another man. Preston couldn’t see the face of her lover, because he was underneath the covers pleasuring her orally. Preston knew the dream was a direct result of guilt working on his psyche from the random blow job he received the other night at the restaurant.

He shook off the absurd vision, and got up to change his pajamas. He then straightened the covers on Ariel’s side of the bed and climbed in. His side was moist from perspiration, and he didn’t feel like changing the sheets. Preston lay his head on the pillow, and within no time had drifted back to sleep, but instead of a peaceful rest, he began dreaming again. This sequence was almost identical to the one
before, except this time Ariel was screaming out, “Yeah, baby, that’s it, that’s it!” Preston watched her body contort into a series of positions as she squirmed with pleasure. And when she reached climax, her body jerked back and forth uncontrollably as if she were possessed by a sex demon.

Once her lover had satisfied her, she slipped beneath the covers and returned the favor. Preston could hear the man moaning as Ariel sucked him off. When she finished, they both emerged from underneath the covers, and Preston was finally able to see the man’s face. The mystery man was a mystery no longer. His wife’s lover was none other than
his friend!
But the dream didn’t stop there.

Laird spread Ariel’s legs apart into a wide
V
, and lay his body between her thighs. He sucked her neck repeatedly until a crimson hickey appeared. He then grabbed his dick and entered her slowly. Preston watched Laird’s butt cheeks flex in and out as he pumped deeper into her. Ariel reached around and began rubbing his ass, and when she was near orgasm, she dug her fingernails into his butt and didn’t stop digging until a stream of thick red blood came oozing down his chalky white ass. They both screamed out simultaneously. Preston didn’t know if Laird was screaming because of the pain she was inflicting, or if he was actually cumming. With one look at his wife’s face, he knew that she was cumming, since he had seen a variation of that face many times before. Once their lovemaking session was over, they lay comfortably in each other’s arms.

The vision of them together was enough to jolt Preston into consciousness, and he bolted straight up in bed. He opened his eyes wide and stared into the darkness; though he was wide awake, he could still see the disturbing visions of Ariel and his friend making love.
That’s crazy. Why would I dream something like that!?

Dreams were usually a part of the subconscious, but there was nothing in the recesses of Preston’s mind that linked Laird and his wife together as lovers. Preston kept blinking, trying to blink away the unlikely liaison, but it kept replaying in his mind like a loop of a bad movie.

It didn’t make sense to him, since Laird and Ariel barely knew
each other. Preston could count on one hand the number of times when the two of them were together in the same room. Dreams could be bizarre, and this one was the most bizarre dream he had ever had. Preston shook it off and reached for the bottle of Evian sitting on the nightstand. His throat was parched, and he drank the entire bottle of water in two gulps. He put the empty bottle back on the nightstand, and burrowed back underneath the covers. Preston closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him.

By the time he finally drifted off, the alarm clock was buzzing. It was five-thirty, and in total he must have only gotten about three hours of sleep. Preston wanted to stay in bed another hour, but he had a six o’clock appointment scheduled with his trainer at the gym. He had recently begun a workout routine, and didn’t want to get off track, especially now that he was seeing the results of exercising. His love handles had trimmed down considerably, and his middle-aged belly was also disappearing. Preston’s body was toning up nicely, taking nearly ten years off of his appearance. He wearily got out of bed, went into the bathroom, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. He always took his shower after he came back from the gym. He threw on his workout clothes and headed downstairs and out the door.

The gym was only a few blocks away, and within five minutes Preston was pulling into the parking lot. Though it was early, the club was crowded with members running on treadmills, pumping weights, and riding stationary bicycles in spinning class. Preston was early, so he went over to an empty floor mat, and began his warm-up stretches.

“I see somebody’s trying to push back the hands of time,” Laird said, walking over to the mat.

Preston looked up and frowned. He still had visions of the lewd dream in his head. He instantly got an attitude with Laird, as if the man were actually having an affair with his wife. “I thought it was time to hire a personal trainer to get this body back in shape,” he said drily.

“I know what you mean; that’s why I jog every morning. I might be old, but I still have a firm midsection and tight pecs,” Laird said,
flexing his muscles. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked, changing the subject.

“There’s an upcoming case I need to review, so I’m staying in and ordering Chinese take-out.”

“That sounds boring. Why don’t you put the review off for one night, and let’s go back to À Votre Service. I could surely use some more servicing. That last visit was awesome.” He grinned.

Preston still felt guilty about accepting a blow job from a stranger, and there was no way he was ever going back to that restaurant. “No thanks; I’m going to take a pass.”

“Why?” Laird hunched his shoulders. “Isn’t Ariel still out of town?”

The moment Laird said her name, the hairs on the back of Preston’s neck perked up. He knew he was being foolish, but he couldn’t get the vision of them out of his mind. “Yes,” he said curtly. Preston started to tell Laird about his dream, but decided against it. He didn’t want to put any notions in Laird’s perverted head.

“Since your wife is away, why don’t you take the opportunity to play? If you don’t want to go back to that restaurant, I know another little joint. It’s not as sophisticated as À Votre Service, but the chicks there are just as beautiful, though freakier, if you can believe that. There’s even a room in the back where, for a hefty fee, you can do more than just get your jimmy waxed, if you know what I mean.” He winked.

Preston knew exactly what he meant, and the thought of making love to another woman was beyond repulsive. He was a one-woman man, and had no intention of ever sleeping around outside of his marriage. As it were, a random blow job was almost as bad as committing adultery, and he was paying for the deception with nonstop feelings of guilt. “No thanks. I’ll pass.”

Before Laird had a chance to try and convince him, Preston’s trainer walked up. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Good morning, Eric. I’m all stretched out and ready to get started,” Preston said hurriedly, grateful for the interruption. Laird could be relentless, and he didn’t want to hear any more of his persuasive reasoning.

“Okay, I’ll leave you guys to your workout, but, Preston, think about what I said, and if you’re on board, give me a call,” he said, before heading over to the free weights.

An hour later, Preston’s muscles were burning, and he felt five years younger. His trainer was a former boxer and knew just what it took to give the maximum workout in the minimum amount of time. Preston felt reenergized, and rushed home to shower and change. He had a breakfast meeting with the other justices, court, a lunch meeting with a former colleague, and then back to his home office to review a few cases. His day was full and since his wife was out of town he relished every minute of his schedule to keep himself busy.

By the time Preston got back to his office that afternoon, his battery was no longer energized, and he was completely exhausted. It was a combination of the steak and potatoes that he ate at lunch and a lack of sleep. He went into his office, closed the door, and decided to lie down on the sofa for a quick catnap before reading over the case histories. No sooner had Preston closed his eyes than he fell into a deep sleep, devoid of dreams. He was worn out since he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, and he began to snore. The buzzing sound became so loud that he woke himself up. Preston opened his eyes and looked at his watch. He’d been asleep for over an hour, which was unusual for him since he rarely took naps during the workweek. He got up and went into his private bathroom to freshen up. When he came out, someone was knocking on the office door.

“Come in,” he said.

“Oh, so you are here,” Michele said. “I knocked earlier, but you didn’t answer.”