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Authors: Niobia Bryant

BOOK: Mistress, Inc.
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“Huh?” Jessa asked. “He just left there? It’s not even eight o’clock. In your words,
dah-ling,
something in the milk ain’t clean.”
“I was horny and he came by last night and a piece of me wanted him to stay the night and make that bitch wonder where he was.”
“So you play yourself by fucking the limp-dick, cheating son of a bitch and then he got up this morning and denied he ever cheated?” Jessa asked her before taking a big bite of oatmeal.
Keegan sighed heavily. “It doesn’t feel good getting screwed twice,” she drawled, sounding Texan.
“Maybe he’s not with that particular woman anymore but still wants the divorce,” Jessa offered around a sip of tea.
“Or he’s with someone new.”
“Or open to someone new,” Jessa countered, sprinkling more nuts over her oatmeal.
“I can’t believe him and I still got the taste of his cum in my mouth!”
Jessa frowned and gagged a little before pushing the oatmeal away. “Damn, how horny were you?”
“Horny
and
out to prove a point.”
“Not a good combo.”
“Sure ain’t.”
“Listen, I’m headed into New York and my car service should be on the way,” Jessa told her, rising to empty her bowl and wash it. She also was bored with the convo and ready to focus on her own worries. “Hire a private detective. If you need a referral I can e-mail you the contact info of the guy I use.”
“Send it and enjoy New York.”
Jessa nodded. “I will. Oh, and keep your legs—and your mouth—closed to his dick.”
Keegan just laughed before hanging up.
Jessa’s landline rang. She scooped up her cordless. “Yes, Lucky.”
“Acclaimed Car Service is here.”
“Let him up.”
Jessa turned off the lights in the kitchen and walked in her sequined flats to the front door. As soon as she opened the door she was glad for jeans she normally avoided and a black cashmere wrap as she felt the slight chill in the air. The black SUV came up the street and turned into her empty driveway. She had parked her Jag in her garage. Jessa set her bags on the step and locked her door before securing the alarm with the new key code. It wasn’t until recently that she remembered Aria knew her passcode.
The driver opened the rear door of the SUV and helped her in before getting her bags. Soon they were rolling out of Richmond Hills and Jessa looked around wondering if maybe it wasn’t truly time to say good-bye to it for good.
 
Jessa loved the fast-paced vibe and energy of New York. As soon as she settled into her suite at the W Hotel on Park Avenue South she took a long shower and changed into a long-sleeve stretch silk blouse and a pair of wide-leg trousers, both in a soft lilac. There wasn’t much more she had to do to prepare for her meeting with Myra and her new literary agent.
Locking her valuables into the safe, Jessa grabbed her oversized clutch, tucked it under her arm, and left her suite. She was riding down on the elevator when it glided to a stop on the fifth floor. She looked up and her face filled with surprise to see the captain of the yacht she chartered in the Hamptons step on. He looked handsome in a navy tailored suit and crisp white shirt open at the neck.
Jessa’s clit throbbed with new life.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not a walk of shame is it, Captain?” she asked with teasing in her soft husky tones.
He smiled as the elevator door closed behind him. “Surprise, surprise,” he said.
Jessa’s heart beat rapidly, but she played it cool. “Yes, it is. Yes, it is.”
“No walk of shame,” he said. “I had a meeting with someone wanting to buy one of my boats.”
“I hope it went well,” she told him, the smell of his cologne just enough to tease the senses and make you want to bury your face in his neck and get lost. “I have a meeting downstairs as well.”
Tyson smiled. “I hope that goes well.”
Jessa held up crossed fingers.
“Maybe we can go to dinner to celebrate ... or commiserate,” he offered as the elevator door opened up into the elaborately decorated lobby.
Jessa stepped off the elevator and looked up at him.
“It’s just dinner.”
“Yes, but why if it’s not going anywhere?” she asked.
“Because you look damn good in and out of a bikini.”
Jessa arched a brow. “That is true,” she joked.
“Just dinner,” he offered again.
Jessa couldn’t lie that she was used to the company of a man and missed it. Not for sex entirely but also the flirtation. The banter. The enjoyment. Just dinner.
“How about the restaurant here at eight?” she said.
“See you at eight.”
With one last smile, Jessa turned and quickly made her way to Olive’s, the two-story restaurant located in the hotel. She spotted Myra rising to her feet and the maître d’ led her to the table where the New York sun gleamed through the windows. That and running into Tyson elevated her mood.
“Hello, ladies,” she said, setting her clutch on the empty chair before taking the seat the maître d’ held for her.
“Jesse Bell, this is Olivia Young. Olivia, this is Jessa Bell, your new client,” Myra said, her eyes excited and bright behind her spectacles.
Jessa shook hands with the tall and plump woman who was dark, lovely, and fashionable with hair that was shiny, wavy, and pulled up into a top knot that emphasized her wide-set eyes. Very Angie Stone.
“It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Jessa said, admitting to herself that she was nervous. Everything about her life was so new and foreign to her. She was using every minute to learn and readjust.
“You as well ... and we have some celebrating to do,” Olivia said as their waitress came to their table. “Two mimosas with Veuve Clicquot and a sparkling cider.”
Jessa felt anxious. Good news.
“We have three offers on the table, and all three publishing houses are very eager and aggressive in acquiring your book, Jessa,” Olivia said. “Now, they all want the full story, though. Everything leading up to the affair, the stalking, the attempted murder, the pregnancy and the lawsuit, and details on how you have turned it all around and found God. But for all those wonderful details we are looking at a high six-figure advance.”
Jessa’s heart pounded as their waitress brought their drinks. Jessa hurried to take a deep gulp of hers. A book deal? A six-figure book deal? What in the fuck was the world coming to?
“Now you’re making your scandalous life into a business. Some kind of Mistress, Incorporated or some bullshit. ”
Fuck you, Aria,
she thought, raising her glass in toast to the women.
Mistress, Inc. was sounding real good right about now.
 
Jessa gasped hotly as she felt her climax cause the walls of her pussy to vibrate and pulse against the length of Tyson’s condom-covered dick as he pressed a heated kiss to her neck. Her entire body tingled even as she felt herself free-falling back to reality.
She breathed through pursed lips as Tyson rolled over onto his back trying to catch his own breath.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“Damn,” he swore, his hand over his heart.
“Are you okay?” Jessa asked.
She did not need a chapter in her life—or her book—dedicated to giving a man a heart attack after she swore she was saved and trying to live right.
Just my damn luck.
“I’m good” he said, still breathing heavy.
Jessa sat up in bed and pulled the sheet up to cover her sweat-soaked breasts. “Listen, Tyson. Thank you, but I really need to get some sleep now. So if you could gather your things and ...”
“Take my walk of shame?” he asked.
Jessa smiled bashfully. “Look, dinner was good. Conversation was nice. The flirting was fun. But this is not what I had planned for the night. As good as it was—and it was good—the night is over.”
Tyson nodded and kicked the covers back. “Just use me up and toss me away, Jessa Bell,” he said jokingly, standing up and walking naked across the room to pick up his pile of clothes from by the door.
Jessa had stripped him as soon as they shut the door. She dropped her head into her hands at the heated memory. She hadn’t had a one-night stand since college.
God’s just shaking his head right now... .
Jessa kicked back the sheet and walked naked across the room to the bathroom. She locked the door and immediately dropped down to her knees.
“Oh God, I am
so
sorry.”
Jessa’s eyes were closed tight and her hands were folded under her chin as she pressed her knees against the cold tile. “I will fast. I will read an extra chapter in the Bible every night and sign up for Joel Osteen’s daily word and donate a portion of the proceeds of my book to charity. I will pay my tithes,” she prayed vehemently. “Please, just forgive me for going back on my word to stay celibate until I marry. God, please, you know me and you know I am trying.”
By the time Jessa finished her prayers and finally climbed from her knees with a heavy breath, ten minutes had passed and Tyson was gone.
“What the hell am I doing?” she asked herself out loud as she dropped down on the side of the bed. “I’m pregnant, for God’s sake.”
Jessa spotted the note on the nightstand. She picked it up and read it out loud:
“The only way to get over the horror of a one-night stand is to do it all over again. Call me. 973-555-0987. P.S. Did I top the glass one?”
Jessa just shook her head and let the note drop to the floor.
Chapter 11
J
essa spent the next morning deep into retail therapy. She hit all her favorites from Gucci and Prada to a full tour around Saks Fifth Avenue. But out of all the shoes, clothes, and jewelry she splurged on, the purchase she loved the best was the jumbo-sized plush vanilla teddy bear she bought and had shipped to her house. Everything about it screamed nursery, and she could see it snuggled in the corner of the crib or on the floor for her child to play and climb on once they began to toddle.
And so the teddy bear and all the warm feelings it evoked pushed Jessa to call Keegan to ride into the city to meet her.
“I can’t believe you’re ready to decorate your nursery,” Keegan said, quickly using her iPad to pull up clear photos of fabric swatches that she had on stock in her showroom.
Jessa touched her stomach, enjoying the feel of its slight roundness as she imagined hearing a child call her “Mother.”
“Even though I’m just four months, I’m ready to see it finished and have it sitting ready for when the baby and I come home.”
“I hear you, sugar. I’m not going to turn down the business. . . especially with that slicky-tricky ex-dicky of mine.”
Jessa smiled. “How’s the private detective working out?”
Keegan side-eyed her. “I think his little side-boo kicked his ass to the curb or he’s on his best behavior until the divorce is final.”
“No more ex-sex. Right?”
Keegan shook her head, sending her red hair flowing back and forth. “No, no more. I’m good for a while. But as soon as this divorce is final, I am going to find the youngest man with the biggest—”
“Keegan!” Jessa said sharply even as she laughed.
“I just wish there was some way to catch the son of a bitch.”
Jessa thought about the mob of women outside her house and her surprise visit from Dina, the wife of her perverted neighbor. “When I was married, I never doubted Marc for a second; but if I did, I think I would want to know for sure. I think I would even set up his ass to catch him in the act.”
“And trust me, honey bee, plenty of women—and some men—would. Including me.” Keegan winked at her.
“Would you ever go on that show
Cheaters?
You ever seen that?” Jessa asked, honestly curious.
“Hell no. Being on
Cheaters
would lead to me being on
Snapped?
”
“What’s
Snapped?
”
“It’s all about women being pushed to the edge and killing their husbands,” Keegan explained. “The whole way that show is set up is meant to escalate the anger because you’re on TV and you’re embarrassed. You almost have to act a fool.”
“That’s true.”
“Oh, I would love to catch my ex, but something televised for anyone to see ... in repeats ... and online? No, ain’t no dick worth that shame, darling.”
“I’m beginning to think most dick isn’t worth a lot of things.”
“Now I’m not anti-dick, sweetie. As a matter of fact, you need some dick in your life before you get cobwebs or produce dust.” Keegan pointed between Jessa’s thighs.
I’m good,
Jessa thought with a shiver as she remembered Tyson’s skills. The man was built for sex.
“Finally getting rid of that crazy no sex ’til after the baby rule?” Keegan asked. “You know that’s gonna make giving birth even harder.”
“That’s not true,” Jessa said, purposefully avoiding telling her about her night of sin-filled passion with the captain.
If Keegan wants to tell me ALL her business, then that’s her business. And my business will stay MY business.
Keegan just shrugged.
Jessa fell silent as she allowed herself to remember clutching the back of Tyson’s head as his lips suckled deeply on her clit like it was ambrosia for the gods. And he hadn’t stopped until she came; then he dipped down to lick up every drop as he pressed his thumb to her clit and kept her juices flowing.
Jessa grunted softly as she fanned herself with her clutch as she felt all her pulse points tingle.
“How’s all your meetings and stuff going?”
“Good. Thanks.” Jessa turned in her seat. “How much time do we have to browse and kind of get an idea of what direction we want to go in for the nursery.”
“Which room are you going to use?” Keegan asked, turning on the seat to look over at Jessa.
“In a perfect world I would convert my dressing room/closet into the nursery, but—”
“You ain’t giving up that closet,” Keegan finished for her.
“No, I am not giving up my closet,” Jessa agreed. “So maybe the guest bedroom directly across from me for when the baby gets a little older; but initially I want a basinet or smaller crib for my bedroom that matches the décor.”
Keegan took notes.
“Since my bed is pretty close to the fireplace we may have to reconfigure the room.” Jessa opened up her cell phone. “I want the nursery very neutral for now because I don’t know if it’s a girl or boy, but I definitely want everything centered around this bear.”
Keegan leaned over to look at the picture. She nodded. “Forward that to me.”
Jessa did. “I definitely want for the nursery one of those large round cribs. Very royal for this prince or princess.”
“I know exactly where to go. Driver, Seventh Avenue please.” Keegan made more notes on her iPad. “I’m thinking a really creamy rich vanilla as the base color and then we can always bring in blues and greens for a boy or lots of soft pink and yellows for a girl.”
“Or leave the whole thing creamy vanilla,” Jessa said, picturing the room. “On that side of the house there’s a lot of natural light and the vanilla would brighten the room.”
“I thought I was the designer,” Keegan joked.
“One thing my mother gave me for sure, besides my looks, was damn good taste.”
The ladies laughed.
 
Jessa successfully avoided Tyson for the rest of her week in New York. She never returned the messages he left, she returned the beautiful lilies he sent, and she scheduled any further appointments away from the hotel. On the day she checked out, she left early and wore oversized shades and a hat big enough to cover the moon until she climbed into the back of the car.
Still, she avoided the man, but the memories of that night replayed at the oddest moments and left her flushed and hot and wanting more. It reminded her of the heat and naughty passion she shared with Eric back in the beginning of their affair. And that for her spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
Jessa crossed her legs and cooled herself with the church fan as she remembered the way Tyson sucked on ice cubes before he sucked her nipples and her ass and her clit. “Have mercy,” she whispered. “Whooooo.”
“Hi, Sister Bell. You okay?”
Her eyes popped open and she flushed in embarrassment to see church was over and people were filing out of the church.
Nothing but the devil.
She rose to her feet and gave Henry Lyons a friendly smile. Every Sunday since he first introduced himself to her after church he made sure to speak to her and to ask about her well-being. “I just lost my train of thought,” she said, falling in beside him as they walked out of church together.
“It happens,” he said, forming his wide and friendly face into a smile.
“Yeah, lots of things ... just happen.”
“Well, I believe God already has each person’s life laid out and pre-planned from birth to death, so things don’t really just happen.”
Jessa paused in her steps and looked up at him. “So even the missteps are a part of God’s plans?” she asked, sounding doubtful.
Henry paused to look down at her with a nod. “I had to learn that everything in life happens for a reason. There’s a lesson is everything: the good, the bad, and the ugly.”
Jessa still looked doubtful.
“People give the devil way too much power.”
“I cannot see God cosigning death, affairs, pain, and wars,” Jessa insisted as they continued out the open double doors into the sunshine beaming outside.
“When I was fighting to get off drugs—”
Jessa side-eyed him with a slight frown.
Henry laughed. “Yes, I was strung out pretty bad about ten years ago. Thin. Damn near homeless. Stealing. Just wilding out and doing anything to get high.”
Jessa remained silent and had to fight the urge to clutch her purse tighter.
Judge not, Jessa. Judge not.
“But as I was saying, when I was getting high I thought the Lord turned his back on me, but it was because he never left me even through the darkness that I didn’t die. I didn’t completely lose my faith. I didn’t go crazy or worse. I made it through it.”
Jessa paused again at the sound of victory in his voice. He was giving testimony and honor to God. She knew he meant every word. That gave her chills.
“Sometimes I look at my life now and compare it to the man I was and it blows my mind like heroin never could.”
They were standing on the steps of the church. As Jessa watched him and saw his conviction, she knew she had a long way to go. She read the Bible, said the prayers, went to Bible study, endlessly asked for forgiveness, but she didn’t feel it as deeply as he did.
“There is nothing better than giving it to God and letting him guide your path,” Henry told her. “He will move mountains when needed and He will place them in your path when needed to make sure you go in another direction. God is amazing.”
She followed an impulse and reached out to squeeze his wrist. She honestly wanted to feel closer to him and what he was feeling. As if he understood her struggle, he placed one of his strong and warm hands over hers. Jessa had never felt so protected. So covered.
But even as she stood there absorbing his words and trying to understand the power of God and the way that He worked in someone’s life, she felt more confused than ever.
Why does the Lord keep blessing me when I continue to trip on my path to him?
The baby. The TV exposure. The speaking engagements. The magazine interviews. The book deal. All of it.
Was she supposed to make mistakes as a part of her learning? Was all the goodness making up for her almost dying? Or was he testing her? And if she failed, would he snatch it all away?
 
Jessa had come straight to church from New York, and she was glad to finally climb back in the SUV and tell the driver to take her home. She hadn’t seen her house in a week, and although she loved the luxury of her hotel suite, there was nothing more comfortable to her than her own bed and thousand-count sheets lightly scented with lavender and vanilla.
She was playing on her iPad when the SUV stopped at the security booth for clearance before rolling through the gates of Richmond Hills. Jessa’s stomach growled and she briefly thought about going to the Terrace Room but quickly squashed the idea. She wasn’t one of the down-home, make you smack your mama kind of cooks, but she could handle baked tilapia and seasoned rice.
No, I’m going home. Bathe. Get in my most luxurious pajamas. Cook. And stay huddled in my beautiful home for the rest of the—
“Aaron! Be careful!”
The driver slammed on the brakes and the tires screeched as the SUV skidded to a stop, barely missing slamming into the driver’s side of Renee’s car. Jessa reached out to brace her hand against the rear of the driver’s seat as she looked at Renee’s son, Aaron, quickly maneuver the steering wheel of the car to turn it and speed off down the street.
“You okay back there?” her driver asked.
Jessa nodded and licked her lips as her heart continued to pound hard. She looked through the rear passenger window as Renee’s daughter, Kieran, went stomping into the house before slamming the front door as Renee argued with Jackson. Jessa leaned over and lowered the window enough just in time to hear.
“He’s your son and it shouldn’t matter to you that he’s gay,” Renee roared.
“Could you be any louder?” Jackson snapped.
Renee’s eyes widened. “So you’re ashamed of your son? The child should be ashamed of is that illegitimate bastard you made on me,” she told him coldly as she pointed her finger at him accusingly.
Jackson reached for her arm and she snatched it away just as the driver rolled ahead.
“Get the fuck off of me and go home to sign the divorce papers. Your old family will make it just fine without you.”
Jessa settled back against her seat as she raised the tinted window.
So Aaron is gay? Never saw that one coming.
“Y’all have more drama going on than anything near what pops off in my hood,” the driver said.
Jessa cut her eyes up to his reflection in the mirror and recognized him as the driver who walked her through the mob of wives who had been waiting at her front door. “You’re right,” was all that she said.

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