Mistress, Inc. (9 page)

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Authors: Niobia Bryant

BOOK: Mistress, Inc.
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Knock-knock.
The door handle rattled as someone tried to open the door.
Jessa looked over her shoulder. “You better not stop, ” she whispered back to him, enjoying the feel of his nuts swinging lightly between his thighs and slapping against her.
“Jon,” a woman called through the door before turning the handle again.
Now he froze.
Jessa widened her eyes in a rush of anger and disappointment.
“That’s my wife, ” he mouthed to her, motioning for her to stay still.
Jessa felt her nut drifting from her. “Fuck me,” she mouthed to him, pulling his hand back down onto her clit.
He waited to see if she would knock again. Many moments passed and she didn’t, but his face remained conflicted before he stepped back from Jessa and freed his dick from her.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jessa,” he said, pushing his sticky dick back inside his jeans before zipping them up.
“I’m gonna get me,” she said as she turned to press her back to the door, then slid her hand down to lightly circle her clit with her index and middle fingers.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as she bent her legs and circled her hips with a moan.
Suddenly, her professor grabbed her and Jessa opened her eyes just in time to see him turn her over one of the desks. He slid his dick into her with one hard swoop and pounded away inside her pussy like he was trying to prove a point.
His fingers dug into her ass deeply as he fucked her. “This the last time, Jessa,” he swore as she reached out blindly to grip the edge of the desk as she came with a force that made her feel as if her heart would burst.
She took and again used her hips to pull down on his dick as she felt it stiffen inside of her before each delicious jerk filled her with his cum. She didn’t stop until she felt him go limp inside of her.
Soon he freed himself from her and moved away without saying another word.
Jessa picked up her book bag and used the package of wet wipes she brought to clean up a bit before she caught the panties he tossed at her from across the room. She straightened her clothes and pulled her book bag up onto her shoulder. “See you Monday, Professor
...
if not sooner,” she said, already bold and confident at just eighteen.
She unlocked the door and stepped out of the classroom, pulling the door closed behind her.
“I thought so.”
Jessa looked up in surprise as a slender light-skinned woman with freckles and a wild and curly natural stepped into her path. She recognized her from the pictures in their home. It was the professor’s wife. Jessa sidestepped her, but the woman sidestepped as well to stay in her path.
Jessa’s eyes flashed even as her heart pounded. “Excuse me,” she snapped.
His wife leaned forward and inhaled briefly before she finally walked past Jessa. “Next time don’t wear so much of that body spray if you’re going to fuck a man in the bed he shares with his wife, ” she said in a low voice.
Jessa turned and eyed the woman over her shoulder before she watched her enter the classroom and gently close the door behind her with a soft
click.
 
Her short affair with the sexy professor came to an immediate end that day and Jessa was transferred out of his class. Back then, her only regret was that they got caught and the dick was no longer accessible to her. Her boldness with him came back to bite her on the ass.
Married men were too much work and she had steered clear of them ... until Eric.
He hadn’t been my first affair, but he was most definitely my last,
Jessa promised herself that as she walked back to her section of the Richmond Hills subdivision with a lot on her mind. The pregnancy. The talk show. The death of Eric. Her almost death at the hands of Eric. The hatred so many people had for her. Her journey to redeem herself with God.
Sometimes it was all just too much to bear.
Jessa quickened her steps as she felt all of the emotions and fears and regret choking her. She fought not to let a tear fall, rapidly blinking her eyes as each step got her closer to home. She would never let these people see her break down. Never.
 
“Wow, don’t you look pretty, darling.”
Jessa smiled as she took her seat across from Keegan at the table at Morty’s, a popular steakhouse restaurant in Livingston. “I was at a photo shoot when you called and invited me to dinner. I came straight from there.”
“A photo shoot?” Keegan asked,
“My publicist hired a makeup team, stylist, and photographer to take head shots of me today, believe it or not,” Jessa said.
Keegan smiled a little. “I think she’s on to something. The stories about you, even in the local media, have changed. There’s less cries of ‘kill the backstabber’ to “okay, maybe she’s a victim in this too.’ Maria Vargas has a lot less to suck her fangs into.”
Jessa nodded as the waiter came over to the table to remove the bottle of wine from the bucket to pour her a glass. She quickly placed her hand over the wineglass. “No, thank you. I’ll have lemonade please.”
Keegan arched a bright red brow. “No wine?” she asked as the waiter took his leave.
“No,” Jessa said simply, still not a hundred percent trustworthy of the friendship the woman was trying to forge with her. It was all about motivation and Jessa wondered about Keegan’s.
“Well, thank you for meeting me, sugar,” the other woman said, taking a deep sip of the red wine filling her goblet. “I couldn’t take another night around that house alone.”
Jessa eyed her. “Alone? Your husband out of town or something?” she asked, opening her menu as she felt her hunger rise. It had been a long day at the photo shoot and her nerves to the new surroundings had killed her appetite all day.
“Or something, darling,” Keegan said, her Texan accent thick. “My husband left me for another woman.”
“Damn,” Jessa said.
“Damn is right,” she drawled. “I guess karma is a bitch, huh?”
Jessa shifted her eyes away from her.
The same karma that led to Eric almost killing me? The karma she prayed didn’t affect the life of her baby?
Jessa shook his head. “That’s not karma, Keegan, that’s
his
issues, just like it was Eric’s issues that he was crazy as hell,” she asserted.
“Humph, didn’t stop his bitch of an ex-wife from calling me to gloat about it.” Keegan sighed as she motioned for the waiter.
“Is she psychic? How does she know already?”
“Damn good question.”
“Are you okay?” Jessa asked, not sure of what else to say.
“The blow doesn’t land so hard when you’re waiting for it to fall,” Keegan said, motioning for the waiter to refill her wineglass.
“I’m ready to order,” Jessa said. “Are you on more than a liquid diet?”
Keegan shifted her eyes up to the waiter as she smoothly flipped her red hair over her shoulder. “What I’m hungry for isn’t on the menu,” she said, letting her eyes fall eye level to his crotch.
Jessa leaned back a bit with a slight frown, wondering if Keegan was feeding into the hype of the big dick brotha, as she watched the woman lick her lips as the waiter smiled like he had just won the lottery. “Maybe you two should get a room?” Jessa said, slightly sarcastic. “
After
you take my order for the short ribs, please.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his eyes still on Keegan. “And what can I get for you?”
Keegan shook her head in regret as she looked away from him. “Just a house salad,” she said.
“You sure?” he asked.
Jessa cut her eyes up at him. “Yes, she is sure. Thank you.”
Something in Jessa’s tone or the look in her eye made him double step from their table. Keegan’s eyes followed his walk away.
“If it wasn’t for the fact that I plan to annihilate my husband in court and sit back pretty on his money, then I would’ve chanced a ride on that pole,” Keegan said, directing her eyes back to Jessa.
Jessa did smile at that. “So you’re going for the jugular, huh?” she asked, taking a deep sip of her water.
Keegan’s eyes sharpened. “Oh, yes, sugar. His first wife got half and now I’ll take half of that half and let his new bitch ponder living on just a quarter of his worth. And he best be happy as a pig in slop that we didn’t have children, because I would have
made sure
my babies got their birthright.”
Jessa’s eyebrows arched a bit as she leaned back in the chair and crossed her long legs. She thought of the baby growing inside of her. Although she was capable of providing a good lifestyle for her baby, so could Eric
if
he had lived.
“Eric’s death has made a substantial amount of resources available to me. Financial and otherwise. ”
Eric’s resources. Eric’s finances.
And I am carrying his one and only heir.
Does Eric escape his responsibilities through death, or was it her job as a mother to make sure her baby received his or her birthright?
“Excuse me, Keegan,” Jessa said, easing her cell phone from her purse as she rose from her chair and walked to the restroom.
She checked to make sure each stall was empty as she dialed. Her call went straight to voice mail. It was after business hours and she expected that.
“Lincoln, this is Jessa Bell, and I need for you to call me first thing in the morning. I am curious to see if I have any legal standing to contest a will on behalf of my unborn child as the sole heir—”
“Hello, Ms. Bell?”
She turned and gazed at her reflection as her attorney’s voice suddenly filled the line. “Hello, Lincoln.”
“I’m in the office working late in preparation of a trial tomorrow,” he said. “Now, what was this about contesting a will?”
Jessa leaned against the wall and studied her reflection as she rearranged her hair with her fingertips in the mirror as she coolly explained her pregnancy, the death of her child’s father, and her child’s right to any inheritance.
The line was quiet for a few seconds. “And the father did not know about the pregnancy?”
Jessa shook her head. “No, he passed away before I even knew. So no provisions were made in the will. I’m not sure I want to pursue this, I’m just curious if it’s even possible.”
“And his widow has no children?”
“No,” Jessa said simply, her eyes narrowing as she remembered Jaime calling her child a bastard. Jessa felt a sharp pierce of anger.
“How far along are you?” he asked.
Jessa could tell he was taking notes. “Three months.”
“It’s too risky for a paternity test.”
“That’s if you’re even pregnant, bitch ... and if you are, your bastard child means nothing to me. Clear?”
Jessa hated that Jaime’s words echoed inside her head— and pierced her heart. “You know what, Lincoln, I want to pursue this. I want to fight for what belongs to my baby. Be it a dollar or five figures. I want it and I don’t want to give his widow a chance to spend what doesn’t belong to her,” Jessa said, her voice cold as she made her decision.
“This is going to be a little bit of a battle.”
Jessa shrugged. “No problem. It’ll make the win all the more better. I’ll be in your office first thing in the morning and I want those papers served to his widow before close of business tomorrow.”
“I have to be in court by nine,” her attorney said.
“Then I will be to your office by seven, or I should I look for more legal representation?” she asked as she swung the bathroom door open wide and strutted out like she owned the world.
Lincoln laughed. “Now, we go too far back for that type of chess move,” he said.
Jessa felt some of her tension ease. Lincoln had been her lawyer for years, and they were always straight up and straight shooting with each other. They had even dated very briefly when she first graduated from college. They had no chemistry and a friendship had been forged. “See you at seven?” she asked with the hint of a smile in her husky tones.
“See you at seven,” he agreed, sounding more like an agreeable older brother than anything else.
Jessa ended the call and made her way back to their table. Keegan sat with her chin in her hand as she gazed out the window at something. Or maybe nothing.
She looked up at Jessa as she retook her seat. “Everything okay, honey?”
Jessa nodded. “Just handling some business,” she said, unable to deny that bit of excitement she felt as she pictured the look on Jaime’s face when she got served those papers.

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