Betrayal (6 page)

“Good evening.” Michele smiled.

Everyone spoke except Ariel. Ariel was still in awe of Michele’s boldness, and couldn’t believe that she had the nerve to crash Angelica’s birthday party.

“Michele, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Preston asked, with concern in his voice.

“Excuse me for barging in, but this was messengered over from the chief justice,” she said, handing Preston a large manila envelope. “I thought it might be important, so I drove it over, just in case it’s something that can’t wait until morning.”

Preston took the envelope out of her hand. “Thanks, Michele.”

Michele glanced at Ariel, and saw the daggers that she was shooting with her eyes. She could tell that Ariel wanted to toss her out of the party, but Michele also knew that Ariel couldn’t say a word. Their secret pact to keep the truth from Preston was like money in the bank. Michele could cash in her bargaining chip anytime she felt like it, and tell Preston the truth. Ariel was aware of the power that Michele possessed, so she kept her mouth shut.

Now that Michele’s job was done, Ariel wanted her to leave, but she just stood there as if waiting for someone to offer her a drink. Ariel thought that Preston would dismiss his assistant, but he didn’t. Ariel was so mad that she could feel the vein in the middle of her forehead begin to pulsate. The vein was a dead giveaway that she was pissed, since it only sprouted out when she was angry.

The server approached them. “Would you care for a cocktail?” he
asked Michele, since she was the only person in their group who didn’t have a glass in hand.

“Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” she said, and reached for a flute of champagne. “Wow, this house looks even better inside,” she commented, looking around the well-appointed living room.

“Yes, the view is indeed much better inside,” Laird said, slyly glancing at Michele’s boobs, but quickly averting his eyes so that his wife wouldn’t catch him in the act.

“Will you please excuse me? I need to find the powder room.” Ariel excused herself, and quickly walked away. She couldn’t take another moment of standing in Michele’s presence. The girl had crashed the party, and Ariel hated like hell that she was powerless to knock that brazen wench off of her perch. And what made matters worse, was that Michele knew that she had the upper hand. Ariel swore that the first order of business once Preston regained his memory, and the truth was out, would be to have Michele fired. She was almost tempted to tell Preston everything, just to get rid of the girl, but she knew that would be like cutting off her nose to spite her face. Ariel had to remain calm, and not let Michele push her buttons, which was easier said than done.

Once inside the powder room, she stood in front of the mirror, took a few deep breaths, and waited for the vein in the middle of her forehead to retreat. Once it was gone, and she felt calmer, Ariel swallowed the last of her champagne, put on a phony smile, and returned to the party, ready to endure an unpleasant evening with Michele.

When she returned to the group, another couple had joined them, and they were chatting with Michele like old friends. Ariel stood there for a few seconds before introductions were made.

“Oh, Ariel, I’d like you to meet my good friend Fiona and her husband Thompson Barelli. Thompson was recently appointed lead counsel for the Treasury,” Michele said proudly, as if she served in the lofty position.

“Nice to meet you both.” Ariel quickly sized them up. Thompson was tall with light skin—almost white. He was handsome in a Harry Belafonte type of way. Fiona was petite with a rich mocha complexion.
Her dark hair was cut short with precision, each layer lying in its place. She had a cute pug nose, and resembled a young Eartha Kitt. Fiona wore an ivory Chanel suit, with a small diamond broach on the lapel and a pair of matching studs. Her appearance was conservative, and tasteful. Ariel glanced at Michele’s whorish getup, and couldn’t believe the two women were friends. They were complete opposites. “So, how do you know Michele?”

“We’ve known each other since college. We were the only two black girls in fencing class, and immediately gravitated to each other, and …”

“And, we’ve been best friends ever since,” Michele said, completing the sentence.

“Oh,” Ariel said, still not getting the connection.

“Nice to meet you, Ariel, I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other around.” She then turned to Michele. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” Michele said, looping her arm into her friend’s and walking off to the side.

Once they were out of earshot, Fiona said, “Girl, if looks could kill, you’d be dead.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw the way Ariel was eyeballing you.”

“That bitch is just jealous, because I got a body, and ain’t afraid to show it off,” Michele said, sucking her teeth.

“Girl, you have always been bold with your outfits. Remember those tight T-shirts you used to wear back in the day? You had every boy, and even some of the professors drooling. But …” she trailed off her sentence, trying to find the right words. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but you should probably tone down your look now that you’re in Washington with these tight-ass politicians.”

Michele’s expression changed. Her smile instantly faded. “What do you mean? Tone down my look?”

“Don’t get offended.” Fiona rubbed her arm. “It’s just that nobody will take you seriously walking around with your boobs on display.”

“Look,” she raised her voice slightly, “I can’t help it if my nipples stay hard,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Calm down, Michele. You know I love you, and I’m only saying this out of concern. You told me that you want to be included on the A-list. Well, first you have to dress the part. How do you think I snagged Thompson? I dress like his little trophy wife in public, but in the bedroom, I let it all hang out. Look, you can do what you want. It’s just a word to the wise, that’s all.”

Michele didn’t like being reprimanded about her style of dress. It reminded her of the professor who had tried to seduce her, and when she refused the teacher, the woman told her to stop wearing those provocative shirts. Hell, she couldn’t help it if she was blessed with natural assets. Michele weighed Fiona’s words, and had to admit that she made a good point. She desperately wanted to be included in the in crowd, and if changing her wardrobe was a criterion, then she would consider it. But, if she chose to wear more conservative clothes, it would be her decision. Nobody was going to force her to conform.

“SO, WHAT
did you think of Michele’s friends?” Ariel asked. She and Preston were home from the party, getting ready for bed. She was still baffled about the connection between Fiona—someone so poised and refined—and Michele, the total opposite.

“I’ve seen Thompson on the Hill, but I’ve never had the opportunity to talk to him until tonight. He appears to be a stand-up type of guy,” Preston said, removing his tie.

Ariel didn’t give two cents about Thompson. She was more interested in his wife. “What about Fiona? She doesn’t really seem like someone who would be friends with Michele. Does she?”

“Well, I really hadn’t given it much thought.”

Ariel was sitting at the vanity table taking off her makeup. She twisted her mouth in a frustrated gesture. Her back was to him, so he didn’t see her face. At times men could be so clueless when it came to women. On the other hand, if they were sizing up another man for a networking opportunity, they were completely in tune. “What I mean is that Michele is so … how should I say? Rough around the edges. And Fiona seems as though she spent her formative years in charm school,” Ariel said, wiping mascara from her lashes with a cotton ball.

Preston hunched his shoulders. “I guess,” he said, sounding as if he couldn’t care less.

Ariel realized that she wasn’t going to get much feedback from Preston, so she decided to drop the subject. Besides, she had more pressing matters on her mind. She needed to put her pregnancy plan into motion sooner rather than later. She finished removing her makeup, and then went into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Ten minutes later, she reemerged wearing only a terry cloth towel. She sauntered over to the bed where Preston was laying on his back with his hands underneath his head and his eyes closed. He wasn’t snoring, so she didn’t know if he was asleep or just resting his eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed, and ran her hand over his chest. He wore a pair of cotton pajamas, so she couldn’t feel his bare chest. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “The champagne from the party tonight has me feeling a little frisky. What about you?”

“Actually, it’s making me sleepy,” he said, with his eyes still closed.

Ariel could tell from his relaxed position that he was ready to call it a night, but she had other plans. She began unbuttoning his pajama top. “Not too sleepy for a little roll in the sack with your wife?”

“Honey, I would love nothing more, but I’m exhausted,” he said, yawning.

Tonight, Ariel wasn’t taking
no
for an answer. Once his shirt was completely unbuttoned, she kissed his right nipple. She knew one of Preston’s tender spots were his breasts, so she went to work sucking and licking until his tiny nodule of a nipple firmed up. She then ran her hand down to his crotch. His member was only semierect. Ariel unsnapped the closure of his pajama pants, and flipped out his cock. She quickly covered it with her mouth, before he could object. Ariel took in his entire shaft, and began sucking as if her life depended on it. In a sense it did.

“Oh honey, that feels so good,” Preston moaned.

While still sucking him, Ariel took one hand and unfastened the knot in her towel, and let it fall to the floor. She started to straddle him. Ariel wanted to ride the soul pole, but he stopped her before she was in jockey position.

“Do you have your diaphragm in?” he asked.

“Of course. I put it in while I was in the bathroom,” she lied. Ariel hadn’t given the birth control device any thought. That was the last thing on her mind. While she was taking a shower, she had counted back to the first day of her last period, and realized that at this very moment she could be ovulating. There was a fifty-fifty chance that tonight their love child—her saving grace—would be conceived, so she aggressively straddled him, and didn’t stop until her pussy was on top of his rising erection.

Preston gripped his shaft, and guided it into her ready orifice. Once inside, he held on to her hips and began fucking her with abandon.

“Cum for me, honey,” Ariel panted. She wanted his seed inside of her.

Out of nowhere, Preston began to feel disconnected from his wife. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something in his subconscious that made him want to withdraw. He suddenly stopped fucking her back, and rolled them both over to their sides.

“Why’d you stop?” Ariel asked, totally frustrated. She wanted his baby more than anything in the world, but he wasn’t cooperating, and she didn’t know why.

“I’m tired,” he said, in a deadpan tone.

“Oh honey, come on. We were almost there. Don’t you want me?” She leaned in and licked his ear, trying to entice him.

Preston couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. He trusted his wife and knew that she would never cheat on him, but still there was that lingering doubt in the back of his mind that made him question her fidelity. “I do want you. Just give me a minute. I think the champagne has gone to my head,” he said, trying to explain his unexpected change of heart.

As he spooned her, Ariel could feel his dick going limp. It went from a full-blown hard-on, to a semierect cock, to a wet noodle.
Damn
, she said to herself. As much as she wanted to make a baby, tonight obviously wasn’t the night. She lay beside him, but didn’t go directly to sleep. All she could think about was her ovulation date the
following month. Now that she had a game plan, she had to put it into action. She realized that her entire future depended on whether or not she got pregnant. And if she had to rape Preston in the middle of the night, she would. Ariel was determined to have his baby!

“DO YOU
think that Thompson can get me into the black-tie reception?” Michele asked. She and Fiona were having breakfast at the Four Seasons. Though she had a backup plan to get into the Congressional Black Caucus affair, she would feel more secure if her name were actually on the list.