The Good Mistress: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (22 page)

Finally, Mila's hands gripped the fur rug as she rode the orgasm on his face.

Her tone changed, knees and hands shaking. “Stop—”

“Don't tell me to stop,” he commanded. She wanted to bask in the ambience of love. She wanted marriage, when this was not the time to ask. As her body went into a graceful arch, Blake grabbed her back up. He owned the chair, flipping her around and sinking her down on top of his cock. His woman seemed spent, but soon she’d be wide awake as he fucked her sideways…

Chapter 34

Mila

MILA LAY IN
bed. Night engulfed the master suite of the glass house. She hadn’t told him that Diane Baldwin had called. In fact
, the wife
had reached out to her on numerous occasions this past week. The calls began the day they were set to celebrate their one-year anniversary. It seemed Diane caught wind about Blake and Mila’s non-departure. While Mila attended to Lido’s “needs” since Yasmin dealt with a child who had the chickenpox, Diane inquired as to why Mila wasn’t with
her man.

The very moment Diane spoke after Mila said ‘hello’ to an unfamiliar 310-number, Mila knew it was her. Mila had thought the Los Angeles based number belonged to Veronica. Her lover’s
wife’s
voice strummed together like the finest silk, as if Diane had practiced and practiced and practiced how to sound seductive.

“Why aren’t you island-hopping on
my
husband’s
yacht?”  Had been Diane’s very first words as Mila watched Lido purge dinner into the toilet. Lido had threatened to go back to drinking if Mila left her with Yasmin and her son. But the model had eaten like a little pig.

“Hello, Diane.” Mila stepped out of the master bathroom. She’d been sleepy, and Lido had wanted to stay in the same room with her every night. Her sister was returning to an embryonic stage after acting like a toddler for all her life.

“
Diane
, hmmm. Should I appreciate you’re recalling I’m Blake’s wife? But you see, you and I have been so very intimate. You’ve licked every single inch of my husband’s cock.”

Mila gulped back the acrid antipathy of the woman’s boldness.

“So in a sense you’ve eaten my pussy.”

Mila’s pupils almost popped. This lady was even crazier than her own sister.

“I’m supposing that I’ve tasted yours on occasion too. Now what should we do about that!”

The rancor of her current situation left Mila momentarily on pause. Shoulders rising slowly as Mila took a deep breath, she considered the wife’s
question.

“Get a divorce,” the words lurched out of Mila’s mouth.

“I need a drink of water,” Lido shouted from the bathroom.

SLAM
. Mila closed the door quickly. “Why don’t you give Blake a divorce! He loves me. I love him.”

“There’s no question that you love him…” Diane’s hard, yet captivating voice faded for a second. She had the advantage of calling, most likely rehearsing these vulgar words in her head. “It’s funny. You’ll be 31 in about five months. I thought Blake would choose a younger one. Prettier…”

“Well he chose your pasty ass, but Blake prefers my bed. So maybe you should learn a thing or two about assumptions. I’m not leaving.”

That call had been on day one of ten days away from Blake.
“You are so blinded by the way he loves, Mila. Blake loves so fucking hard.”
Diane had said during one of their calls.
“When Blake loves you, it is your world. The day he falls out of love with you, well, that’s the day you die, Mila. I can’t wait for us to be friends…”

The words had been ominous. As if the moment Blake lost interest in Mila, the
wife
, and the
mistress
could build a partnership. Between Diane calling, holding her sister’s hand or helping her purge, Mila barely survived.

She felt so dumb after asking to marry him. There’d been not one peep in the news about Blake and Diane. Over the past year, the media had run rampant each time Blake and Mila went across seas, as far as Tokyo. Diane had never called. Never showed interest.
Did Diane and her lover just have a falling out? Blake is mine.

Now she cuddled closer to him. She decided they needed to postpone the vacation, though her body needed it. Tomorrow she’d ask Blake if they could wait a while longer. For now, she needed to present a strong front when it came to Diane Blake. The bitch must’ve broken up with the pool boy or whatever Blake had told her the day they first fucked. She wouldn’t have slept with him otherwise. For now, she’d introduce Blake to her family. He’d already let her into his life when it came to Isaac and Zenobia. Over the past few months, she felt like she knew his Aunt Serenity even though she’d never met her. Yes, she was prepared to set the foundation for Blake being a constant in her life. Even though Diane claimed she would never extract her claws. One day, maybe not too soon, Blake would divorce Diane, and marry her…

Chapter 35

Blake

MILA ONCE AGAIN
requested that they postpone celebrating their one-year anniversary, saying that Yasmin may need Faaid’s help with the kids, especially while dealing with the grown, yet so very childish, Lido. Those were the same sacrifices Aunt Serenity made when it came to his own mother, and two extra mouths to feed.

Tonight they were to meet Mila’s oldest sister’s family for dinner. When he arrived at Mila’s home, Lido opened the door.

“Oh, it’s you…” Her voice was thick with animosity. “You’re in trouble.”

His eyes glowered at the woman who seemed bent on sponging up hate. He’d thought it was all the drinking at first, but now Blake realized there was something more.

“So you’re cheating on my sister?”

“My relationship with Mila has nothing to do with you.” And that’s all he would say to her.

That gave rise to a tiny chuckle. If the shoe was on the other foot, Isaac and Zenobia would laugh it off, too. One family member is hurt, everyone takes shots. But she wasn’t like Isaac or Zenobia, as the trio had each other’s greatest interest at hand while younger. On the other hand, what had
he
done?

Mila descended the staircase slowly, dressed in a silk nightgown that glided across her curves. She wasn’t dressed for the pending party, nor was the house clouded with any scents of the feast she’d promised to prepare. There was a magazine in her hand. On the front page there were two photos, with one of the greatest pitches ever: Love triangle? However, the triangle had been amplified. The left side was a photo of Blake and Mila through the window of Cartier’s. The other was a recent photo of Blake with his wife Diane. Smack dab in the middle, was Blake with Cynthia Taylor in New York.

“One week you’re giving… hold up,” Mila turned the pages, “‘Blake bestowed his mistress with an
engagement
ring at Cartier’s.’ Okay, we both know that’s inaccurate. But this is you, right? The story says that we postponed our anniversary. Day one you were with a good friend—I can only assume it was Isaac from the description. You went climbing.” Mila nodded. “Okay, th-that’s okay, isn’t it? Guy bonding time. Then you and Diane went to a gala just two days ago. That’s you, no doubt getting ready to fuck
your wife
while I take care of my sister? Actually don’t answer that question, even though it’s clearly you in the tux—you look fine as hell, might I add. But I don’t have the right to ask you about
your wife!
”

“Mila, c’mon, you’re second best. You already know.” Lido continued toward the living room of the house.  “Oh wait a minute, third best now.” Her giggle was loud, voice muffled. “
Walaashay yar
, you missed the best part!”

“Okay, Mila don’t listen to that bullshit. You’re so fucking important to me.” Blake started up the steps. Her sister was a bitch, and clearly just inciting Mila’s emotions. Then Mila mentioned what the magazine dubbed the mysterious woman with gorgeous amethyst eyes.

“No, I’m not shit; right? Just some stupid ass mistress! Another magazine dubbed the mysterious Misses Violet is the most exotic of us all. But the author doubts that you’ll end up with any of us… Look, they had a behavioral psychologist provide insight.” Voice hoarse from crying and screaming, Mila exclaimed, “Do you know how
stupid
you've made me? I use to like and repost comments about cheaters. One in particular comes to mind: you can't be in a relationship with a married man! You said you’re separated from Diane! That’s a fucking lie, isn’t it?”

“I
am
separated.”

She ignored the lie. “While I was helping my sister, you were fucking your wife and another slut. You know what, I can’t be this stupid! I honestly can’t be this fucking dumb. So you and your wife have an open relationship…”

“No, I was mountain climbing.”

“Sure.” She tried to throw the magazine at his face.

“Mila, listen to me, honey.” 

“Honey?” Those forest green orbs blazed through her heart. The
smack
echoed across the room. His chest rose and fell. Again Mila's hand raised for a strike. She wanted him to feel her wrath. To hurt as badly as she did. Instead, her forearms pressed into his body as she went weak. 

Blake's arms swooped down, taking her into a hug. A bear hug. The kind that a friend or lover gives. But in her mind, Blake wasn’t her friend or anywhere close to being in love with her. A silent shudder wracked her body. 

“Let me make it up to you, baby.” 

Her weak legs gave way as he scooped her into his arms, cradling her to a pounding, anxious heart. 

Blake lay Mila down on a feather duvet, her heavy, exhausted body sinking into the heavenly cloud.

“Just leave me.” A thread of will came out in a murmur. 

Greedy as he was, Blake ignored her plea. He knew he should take things slowly as she brought up the contradiction of Diane cheating with “the pool boy.” She didn’t want to believe that his wife could cheat on him. In Mila’s mind, he was too greedy for a cheating wife. All the fingers pointed to him. But he had no time to take it slow, to explain to Mila the error in her over thinking. Blake secured her gown. No bra on, her breast held the only bits of life as they sat perkily. 

“I don’t want you.” Her words sunk deeper into his flesh than any previous hits.

“Don’t deny me, Mila. I’ll explain.” He closed his eyes to her sobbing. Then down on his knees he went. There were no more utterances of abhorring him so he gripped firm, yet sensual thighs and slid her body toward the edge of the bed. His mouthwatering at just the sight of Mila’s tight, little pussy. The creamy folds glistening, traitor to her prior words and acts of indignation.

Just as his lips were to meet the only ones that pleased him without argument, Mila struck once more. “This all I’m good for?”

The hardness of her tone was deafening.

“You fuck me first, then explain,” she inquired. “Or you fuck me then
never
actually get to the point of my enlightenment… Blake, how does this go?”

Mila’s legs clammed shut, and she sat up. “I’m bare to you, Blake. So damn bare to you, right now. Funny, how I actually considered you a walking dildo when we first met. You were supposed to be just a fuck. Perhaps once, twice, shit, you had me moaning until my lungs were raw that one night. I should have thrown away the billionaire! But even through the blur of my tears, I see that purple-eyed slut! Now instead of just sizing myself up against
your wife,
I have to compare myself to a nameless woman too?”

“Mila, right now too many thoughts are roaming through your mind.”

“Yeah… so I’m crazy then? The photos aren’t real the magazine is a fake?”

“I’m
not
cheating on you with Cynthia Taylor, shit, that’s the woman with the purple eyes.” He leaned back on his heels. They were eye level, with her seated on the edge of the bed, naked, and him on the floor.

She shook her head. “There’s a part of me, my heart, it just wants to believe every single word that comes out of that mouth. But then again, I’m biased toward that mouth.”

Their gazes collided. Blake knew she believed him about Cynthia, even if he hadn’t started to explain. It was in those chocolate brown eyes that she needed to believe him. But he wasn’t able to explain at this very moment.

“And your wife, Blake have you been fucking your wife?” Mila chuckled at the ludicrousness of her question.

Chapter 36

Mila

IN AN INSTANT,
Blake admitted to sleeping with Diane Baldwin a few times over the past year.
Shouldn’t that be enough? Shouldn’t that make me run?
Which was the worst situation? His wife or the exquisite purple eyed woman?

Cynthia. Taylor. Mila could Google the woman at this very second, yet feel as if she still didn’t know much about her. Besides, Blake blatantly denied any relations with Miss Taylor.

“So you have something to tell me, Blake?” She asked, the river full of tears had ceased to flow. Her head pounded, the after-effects of so much raw emotion for him.

He sat on the accent chair next to the bed. They both seemed to be staring into oblivion outside the balcony. A few minutes ago, she proposed that the two just part ways. Call it quits. Again, she opened her mouth to give Blake the easy way out of this circumstance.

“Mila, let’s have the dinner with your family. Later, I’ll explain everything to you.”

She nodded as a heavy weight anchored her heart.

Everything. There was more to the story than the arbitrary article she’d picked up. She almost laughed at the look on the cash register lady’s face when glancing at the magazine and then at her, when she and Lido went grocery shopping this morning.

But again, everything…
How much more can I take?

“All you gotta do is return to your wife, or
Cynthia
or whoever the fuck you want, Blake.”

His fist boomed down onto the end table, making the lamp jump. “Fuck that. Like I said, tonight, after all is said and done, you’ll have the absolute truth. No more half assed attempts. There are some things I’ve done, some regrets…”

“Like fuck your wife?” Mila scoffed. Round and round again, she continued to return to the same conclusion.
How have I put myself into this situation?

She looked over at the clock. Evening descended fast. Yasmin’s family was due in another hour or so. She wanted to call off the party. Was Blake Baldwin, or Brendan Walker rather, the man her mind had conjured as
the one
? Did his heartbeat coincide with hers? Was… this… love?

For a nanosecond, Warren pervaded her mind. They would’ve made the perfect man and wife. If he’d been Somalian, and reared in her hometown, there’d be no doubt that father would have chosen him as her husband. There’d have been no heart tug of war because Warren always heeded her as an equal.

“The rest of your family will be here soon, Mila. Should we just cater?” Blake stood from the bed and she from the chair.

Like small grains of sand, time was virtually ungraspable. She wanted to get back into Blake’s arms, but the distance between the them now, she was forced to realize that she didn’t trust him. Then there was that one night a few weeks back when Blake came to her home, seemingly so weighed down. Who was that Blake? And Brendan Walker. Brendan reminded her of Warren. Easygoing. Trustworthy. He was the type of man she could marry, and unlike Warren, she could fall for him…

“I’m going to check on Lido, to see if she took the initiative to start the curry sauce,” Mila spoke, doubting every syllable. These past few weeks were tiring. Dealing with Lido’s alcohol addiction. The calls from Diane. The magazine allowed her current status to solidify.
Mistress.

Blake went to the master bathroom to use the restroom. So she started down the hallway, ears perked at a familiar masculine tone emanating from the entry way. Oh, God no. Not Keith.

“… Faaid invited me over. He said it was a family function this evening.”

Then Lido’s reply, “Well, keep your funky ass wine, Keith. My sister already has one no good bastard no need for another one.”

“Is it that fucking Baldwin guy?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

From Mila’s angle as she quietly walked down the stairs, her eyes narrowed. Their interaction was a tad off. When they were around each other, the steel nails were extracted on Lido’s part. The Nike’s were laced to run on Keith’s. Yet, Mila remembered cooking dinner for Lido and Veronica right around the time she was having issues paying the mortgage. Lido had answered the phone, there’d been some sort of exchange between the two…

At this moment, Keith’s voice seemed to be filled with the same demons that plagued Lido’s.  “You’re comfy here, Lido, with your shoes off. You go after him like you went after me, Lido?”

“Maybe… he’s better.” Lido seemed to dawdle on her bare heels as her back came into Mila’s view.

“Damn, I’m so glad I only fucked you once.”

“Hmph. I don’t recall fucking you at all. Now Blake,” Lido sighed the name.  “He’s so…”

“Now BLAKE what?” Mila shouted. Her sister’s entire body convulsed as Mila descended the last step. Lido turned around. Keith even appeared shocked.

“Mila, babe,” Blake’s voice traveled from outside her bedroom as he started toward her. He began to mention catering…

All hell broke loose…

Lido started to explain that she’d slept with Keith when they were all in college. She’d wanted to tell her little sister that the asshole wasn’t worth it. Keith shrugged, as if not deeming himself as a pawn in the least. But Mila couldn’t give a fuck about the two. Her eyes bore into Blake’s.

“Blake, you fucked my sister too?” Mila glanced back and forth from Lido to her boyfriend.

Lido held her head high, not saying one word. Then she sashayed her hoeing ass up the stairs. “Mila, you’re having too many boy problems. That’s why I stick with pussy!”

Mila’s eyelid twitched as her sister’s slender shape disappeared down the hall.

Blake stood before her. Instead of losing herself in that forest gaze, Mila glared at Keith. He turned around and vanished along the pathway, leaving the front door wide open. For a second, Mila closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before staring at Blake.

“Let’s go back upstairs, we need to talk, Mila.”

How had she put herself into this situation? Climbing the corporate ladder at a conglomerate like Hewitt, she had been ballsy. Mila regrouped, gesturing toward him.

“If you were human, not some super rich, blue-blooded billionaire, you’d know this is the fucking part where you
a-polo-gize
, Blake.”

That smoldering glare of his almost popped. Blake rubbed a hand over his face. “C’mon, Mila, you aren’t even receptive to anything I fucking have to say! I love you–”

“Fuck your love, Blake!” Before Mila could think, she swiped a blue milk glass vase with long stemmed lilies across the marble floor. “So when did you sleep with my sister? I saw you staring at her at that gala. Staring all hard while Lido strutted up and down the catwalk. The warning signs damn near railroaded me, yet I let you back into my heart.”

His eyes stayed locked onto her, even as the glass shattered on the floor. “Shit! Just let me explain.”

“Let you explain! Is that your version of ‘I’m sorry,’ which is a shorter phrase, I must say. Even now, Blake. Even earlier.” She stuttered. “Just learning that you’re cheating on me with your wife. Oh boy, I’m so sure you probably slept with Cynthia too! What the fuck is wrong with me? You know what, since you can’t utter the most significant word, an apology, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. Just get out!”

“
Earlier
, Mila, I told you that we had a few issues to address.” Blake’s jaw clinched as Mila headed for the door. His strong, thick arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against Blake’s chest. “Wait, there’s glass all over the fucking floor–”

“Let me go,” Mila shouted. She wrestled out of his arms, drawing blood on the back of one of Blake’s hands. Then her hand lashed out to slap him across the face.

Stock still, he stood there. The slap had reverberated against the walls, so loud, so hard. “Mila if I leave now, I won’t come back.”

“
Don’t
come back.” Her gaze stayed just to the left of his broad shoulders. Chest heaving, Mila waited, staring so hard at the gray swirls in the marble, her vision blurred. Or perhaps that was the tears.

At the crunching sound of glass, Mila concluded this was the end.

Standing in the foyer, Diane’s words swarmed through her mind:
“When Blake loves you, it is your world. The day he falls out of love with you, well, that’s the day you die.”

Yes, he had become her world. But forget dying over a broken heart.
This motherfucker slept with my sister, I will not let this take me down.
Mila sunk onto the stairs, head in her hands. Every fiber of her being was numb.

The front doors flew wide open when her two rowdy nephews ages 5 and 7 came rushing into the house.

“Auntie Mila,” they both said as Yasmin started inside with Faaid, holding an 85 Degrees Bakery bag full of goodies. They eyed the broken glass on the floor.

“Kids, watch your step, go into the playroom please,” their mother said. As the boys began in a sprint, Yasmin shouted, “And don’t throw any of those pool balls off the table.”

“I’ll take these into the kitchen.” Faaid held up the bag. He gave Yasmin a glance. “I’ll get a broom too.”

Yasmin sat on the stairs next to her sister, rubbing her back and hugging her tightly as Mila said not one word. Faaid finished sweeping up the glass, then mumbled about ordering pizza.

Yasmin began to hum one of Somali songstress, Hibo Nurra’s songs that their mother played when the girls were little. The nostalgic melody relaxed Mila’s heart. Her tears soon vanished as she began to sniffle.

Lido sauntered down the stairs in a tiny pair of jeans and a shirt, a designer duffel bag over her shoulder. “’Scuse me.”

“Where the heck are you going?” Yasmin asked baffled.

“I just said
excuse
me, goodness! FYI, Mila kicked me out! As if my grown ass can’t hoof it alone.”

“Oh no, you’re not leaving,” Mila shook her head as her sister bounded down between the girls. Lido spun around, glaring. Mila stood up. “Take your things back upstairs, so
us
sisters can have a talk.”

Yasmin’s clouded gaze went back and forth between the two.

“Let’s go.” Mila took the duffel bag from Lido.

Lido grumbled, stomping back upstairs, with the oldest behind her.

“You’re too old for this behavior,” Yasmin said.

In the room, Yasmin asked for an update as the three took to different corners of the large bedroom. Mila stood at the sliding glass door, looking at the tranquil ocean. Lido lay across her bed, tapping her thumbs against her iPhone as if her current text conversation was of the utmost importance.

Yasmin leaned against the doorframe. “Somebody speak!”

“I’m moving back home soon,” Mila blurted, eyes glued to mother nature. She could feel Lido begin to tense, while internally fighting a triumphant smile.

“Yeah, I’m leaving you.” Mila turned around slowly to glare at her sister. “I’ll see Yasmin on all major holidays. Faaid goes to see his family too, so Yasmin and I will always stay in touch.”

“Mila…” the oldest stressed, aware of this tactic. Lido’s worst fear was being alone. “For too many years, we’ve been at odds with each other. I take most of the blame, but we need to band together. We’re sisters.”

“Yes,
we
are.” Mila eyeballed Yasmin. 

“
All of us are sisters,
” Yasmin tried again.

Lido sucked in a breath. “Quit that. You’re happy, Yasmin. This is what you do, Yas-min, you wait until everything eventually works in your favor. You got your kid sister back.
Your Walaashay yar
has been returned.” Lido gave a mock smile. “I’m left out in the cold. This is how life was meant to play out for me.”

A creepy chuckle took hold of Mila. “Only in this damn world does everything have to revolve around that whore! I told Clarissa, before any of my sisters about the grants I’ve been approved for to open up the resource center. I put all of that on hold to attend group meetings. Far and wide, Lido.”

Yasmin’s feet seemed to shift. This was not right. The scenario playing before them was all wrong. She and Lido would go blow-for-blow; Mila was the mediator. “Where’s Blake, Mila?”

Silence…

“We’re here to meet the love of your life. Let’s go eat.” She patted Mila’s back, only to receive a cold shoulder. “Congratulations,
walaashay yar.
We chatted earlier about the resource center. Tell us the plans over dinner. Food, drinks, it will be good. Even skinny-minny Lido likes to eat,” Yasmin said with a feeble grin. None of her sisters seconded her attempts. “I’ve had a very bad day. I had to deal with these kids this afternoon, so I would like a full belly of food and wine. We can have this sordid chat later, sisters.”

The large guest room was engulfed in silence. Yasmin took a step backwards, toward the door.

“No need to chat later, Yasmin, Lido. I’m going home…” Mila finally said as the three continued their askew triangle. Come hell or high water, she would return to Ethiopia. She wanted to leave Blake for good. And she sure as hell wanted Lido to know that there’d be no more sisterly bonding.