Authors: Niobia Bryant
Mistress No More (20 page)
“Effective immediately,” she told him. “Looks like neither one of us will be working at CancerCure.”
If it was at all possible for Darren’s deeply dark complexion to blanch . . . it did.
“Security will escort you to human resources. You have a choice to make when you get there. Resign and get the hell on with your college career and a new internship. Try to badmouth me or see my son again and I will call the police and have your ass arrested for statutory rape.”
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
Darren’s face closed up and he rose to his feet as two burly security guards all in black entered her office. “I didn’t deserve this and I won’t forget it.”
Renee nodded as sweat covered her upper lip. “Good, maybe you’ll learn something from it,” she said, rising to begin gathering personal items into her briefcase. “Never bite the hand that feeds you . . . or stick your dick where it don’t belong.”
The security guards snickered as Darren walked out of the office between them. He looked over his broad shoulder and gave Renee a hard stare that stayed with her long after the door closed behind them.
By the time noon swung around, Renee wondered if she was going to make it through the day. She was just beat the fuck down mentally, and not having a drink to numb the awareness was really fucking with her.
It didn’t help that her supervisor at CancerCure easily accepted her resignation. Renee knew she had made mistakes in the last few weeks that outweighed her successes of the past, but in her opinion she hadn’t reached a point of no return.
“To hell with it,” she muttered, pulling her car into the parking lot of the massive office building where Jackson worked.
Sitting behind the wheel of her car, she picked up her cell phone. She had two missed calls, one from Jaime and the other from Aria. She decided to call them back after her talk with Jackson.
Renee pulled her keys from the ignition and left her car, sliding her oversized dark shades over her eyes. The summer sun was beating down on her as she hurried across the massive parking lot and inside the building.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clinton.”
Renee removed her shades and smiled at Saad, sitting behind the security console in the lobby of the building. “How are you, Saad?” she asked the slender African with a pure smile that made Renee wish she could be that happy.
“I’m excellent. You?”
“As well,” she lied as she signed in. “Have a good one.”
Renee gave him another smile before she moved around the security desk to the large elevators. Just before the doors opened she glanced over her shoulder and saw Saad turn in his chair to look at her.
She bit her lip as she paused before the elevator. The doors closed in front of her.
He knows. They all know about Jackson and his whore. They knew before I did.
He knows. They all know about Jackson and his whore. They knew before I did.
Renee hitched her head higher, constantly fighting the urge to immerse herself in a liquor bottle. Constantly fighting to deal with her life sober.
I’m not the one who should be ashamed.
I’m not the one who should be ashamed.
But she was.
She turned and pulled her BlackBerry from the holster on her hip. “Jackson? I’m downstairs in the lobby. I’d rather not run into your pregnant whore,” she told him in clipped tones as she slid on her shades and walked out of the building with a brief wave to Saad.
“I’ll be right down.”
My husband has a baby on the way with another woman.
Pain clutched at her heart as a tear as solitary as she felt raced from beneath her shades and down her cheek.
When is this shit gonna stop hurting so bad? God, please. Please.
When is this shit gonna stop hurting so bad? God, please. Please.
She forced herself not to pace until the doors slid open and Jackson walked through. Renee had to look away from him, hating that her heart still pounded at the sight of his tall and broad frame, square handsome face, and even the slightest glint of silver hairs at his temple.
She loved this man. Still.
He lightly rested his hand on her lower back. She shivered and her nipples tingled.
She wanted this man. Still.
“I thought we could go to lunch and talk,” he said, his voice just as comforting and strong as always. “Is that okay?”
Renee nodded and stepped forward to free her body of his touch. “I’ll follow you,” she said, glad that her shades shielded her eyes.
“Renee, we can ride together.”
She shook her head and raised her keys up in answer.
“Okay. Where are you parked?” Jackson asked.
She pointed to her car as she headed in that direction. She already knew his BMW was parked in his reserved parking spot for executives at the front of the building.
In her car, she followed his car, frowning when he got onto the Parkway and headed in the opposite direction. Renee reached for her BlackBerry, dialing him. “Jackson, where are you going?” she asked, turning on her left-turn signal as she switched lanes behind him.
“Home.”
Click.
“Home?” she asked in confusion. “He moved?”
In time she knew he was headed to their home in Richmond Hills.
Her
home. It wasn’t
their
home anymore.
Her
home. It wasn’t
their
home anymore.
For the rest of the ride, Renee repeated the Robert Frost quote. “The best way out is always through.”
Her getting free from the alcohol, her marriage, and her struggles with her children was “to go through” this season. Fight through it. Survive it. Even learn from it.
“The best way out is through.”
Still, she would have given her all to rewind the hands of time and have her little family unit make better decisions so that her “happily ever after” wasn’t blown to hell.
Jackson was the love of her life, but he was no longer the man in her life.
She watched his BMW slow down as he pulled up to the security gate. The gate opened and he entered Richmond Hills. Renee waved to Lucky, the potbellied, red-faced security guard, as she closely followed Jackson inside.
It felt like the old days of them coming home at the same time and then meeting at the door to make love against the wall like the day they’d spent apart had been too much to bear.
From behind the wheel of her car she watched him unfold his tall frame, wave to their next-door neighbor, Mr. Thimble, and jog up the steps to unlock the front door and deactivate the alarm.
It would be so easy to tell him to come home. So easy. Until the repercussions of his affair left her with plenty of baggage to carry. Baggage she didn’t have the strength to deal with.
Renee left her vehicle and followed him inside. As soon as she stepped into the foyer, Jackson reached for her body and pulled her close to him. His mouth nuzzled her neck as his hands cupped her buttocks with well-practiced ease.
Renee felt faint. That familiar chemistry was there between them. She shivered and gasped, completely losing her breath as he placed kisses up and down her throat.
“Renee, please, I miss you. Please,” he begged, his voice deep. Tortured. Haunting.
Her nipples throbbed. Her clit ached. Her pulse raced. Her heart found renewed strength. In that moment everything was okay.
She hated it.
She couldn’t fight it.
Sex had never been their problem. Never.
“Feel how hard my dick is.” He pressed her hips forward and circled his hips, grinding the thick and heavy length of him against her belly.
“I missed you so much, Renee,” he whispered against her mouth.
She tilted her head back, allowing his mouth to press to her chin hotly. Drops landed on her cheeks and her eyes fluttered open to find Jackson silently crying. She raised her head and kissed the track of his tears.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into that intimate space between their open mouths.
Renee pressed her mouth to his, silencing him, erasing his words, getting lost in the physical. As his tongue circled hers with a heated familiarity that made her ache, Renee clasped her arms around his neck.
Just this once,
she promised herself as Jackson jerked her body up into his arms and carried her up the stairs like she weighed nothing.
she promised herself as Jackson jerked her body up into his arms and carried her up the stairs like she weighed nothing.
Like their problems weighed nothing.
Renee shivered as he pressed her body onto the bed and then rose to tear the front of her shirt in one solid rip before he unbuttoned her pants and worked them down her hips along with the sheer white thongs she wore. Jackson dropped to his knees and used his strong hands to press her knees open wide.
The first stroke of his tongue tortured her as she cried out and pressed her hands to the back of his soft hair. “Jackson,” she sighed, closing her eyes.
He moaned as he sucked her throbbing clit into his mouth. Spasms radiated from her core to the center of her belly as she bit her bottom lip.
From that moment on time seemed endless as Jackson used the skill of his tongue to bring her to a climax that made the soles of her feet warm as he licked up every drop of cum.
She thought of all they had built together and even more about what they were losing. The tears flowed as she was caught up in the rapture and flooded with grief.
Jackson moved from her.
She felt the loss of him as she lay in the center of the unmade bed, her body wracked with tears that she couldn’t stop to save her life. “Why, Jackson, why?” she asked, speaking the torture she felt in her soul.
The bed dipped under his weight. When he gathered her into his arms, her skin was warmed by his. “I love you, Renee. Forgive me, please, baby, I want to come home. Baby, please, can I come home?”
She cried harder.
Jackson pushed her back down on the bed, wiping her tears with his fingertips as he settled his body on top of hers. She felt the smoothness of his dick slide across her inner thigh.
An image of his dick easing across a pale white thigh flashed. Renee shook her head but the images played in her head like a movie. Jackson’s dick wet with juices, surrounded by pink flesh and short blond hairs.
This is my husband. My husband. Mine.
Jackson cupped one of her breasts, teasing the chocolate nipple with first his fingertip and then his tongue.
Renee arched her back, wordlessly urging him to kiss them, suck them, adore them. He complied.
Everything between them in the center of that bed was raw, untamed, emotional, simple yet complex. It was everything and the only thing . . . in that moment.
As Jackson spread her legs with one strong motion of his knee, Renee gave in to the moment.
Just this once.
Just this once.
Jackson leveled his body above hers and arched his hips. With one solid thrust his dick entered her, filling her, spreading her. Completing her.
“Damn, I missed this,” he moaned into her ear. “Move them hips. Give me that pussy.”
Renee hated the pleasure she felt with each stroke of his dick. She hated herself.
I’m weak.
She opened her eyes and Jackson’s face was directly above hers. He dipped his head down and kissed her lips. “I love you, Renee. You know I love you.”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. Renee couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t. Her tears came harder.
And Jackson stroked her harder, using his hips to circle deep against her walls as he kissed away her tears.
“Renee,” he moaned. “Renee . . .”
She gasped and then bit down on his shoulder with each spasm of her walls against his dick. “Aah,” she sighed, holding his sweat-dampened body close before she eased her hands down to grip his ass, urging him deeper inside of her.
He cried out, his body stiffening for just a moment before he moaned against her neck and stroked his dick like a piston. “Renee. Renee,” Jackson cried out, the veins in his neck stretched and his face contorted as his nut filled her.
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