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Authors: Naomi Chase

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“Minding my damn business,” Fiona retorted. “I suggest you do the same.”
He scowled. “If you’re using the company’s equipment and supplies for personal reasons, it
is
my fucking business.”
“For your information,” she snapped, “Beau told me I could print out my term paper.”
“Ever thought of using your own damn printer at home?”
“I don’t have one.”
Dre raked her with a scornful glance. “Maybe if you spent less money on designer clothes, you could afford one.”
“What?”
Fiona spat, rounding indignantly on him. “Are you my man? No? Then it’s none of your damn business how I spend my money!”
“The hell it ain’t! You need to stop using this office as your personal Kinko’s!”
“And
you
need to stop tracking my every move like you’re fucking GPS! Why the hell are you so obsessed with me?”
Dre snorted derisively. “
Obsessed
with you?”
“That’s what I said, nigga! Now tell me I’m lying!”
He glared at her.
Fiona glared right back, the air between them seething with hatred and fury.
The next thing she knew they were pouncing on each other, mouths clashing voraciously. Dre yanked up Fiona’s dress and ripped her silk thong off her booted legs, then roughly lifted her onto the printer. The machine was warm, humming beneath her naked ass as the pages of her paper continued churning out.
She hurriedly unfastened Dre’s jeans, her eyes bulging when she beheld his beautiful black dick. She’d been wrong about him. The nigga was packing a python!
Before she could stop to consider whether he’d even fit inside her, Dre grabbed her butt and dragged her to the edge of the printer. Their heated gazes locked as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Before she could draw her next breath, he shoved all twelve inches into her.
She screamed hoarsely, erotic pleasure mingling with pain.
Dre groaned and shuddered deeply, his cock seeming to lengthen even more as he began ramming into her. The feeling was like nothing Fiona had ever experienced before. She threw her arms around his thick neck, her calves riding the flexing muscles of his ass as he pounded her pussy. It was all she could do to keep from whimpering and coming apart like a whipped bitch.
“I hate you,” she snarled against his mouth.
“I hate you, too,” he snarled back.
Biting his lower lip, she panted breathlessly, “I’m sick of you ... always being up in my business. You need to—
Oh, shit
!” she yelled as he shoved his hips against hers, ruthlessly stroking her G-spot.
His dark eyes gleamed with wicked satisfaction. “Now what the fuck were you saying?”
Fiona shuddered and closed her eyes, trying her best to outlast him even as she found herself wishing she bore his last name. What the hell was Leah thinking, neglecting all this good dick? Was that bitch
crazy
?
“I’m sick of you, too,” Dre ground out, each word punctuated with a slapping thrust that echoed around the small room. “I don’t trust your fucking ass.”
“That goes ... both ways!” Fiona managed to choke out.
“I think you’re a sneaky—”
“—conceited—”
“—lying—”
“—meddling ass—”
“—motherfucker!”
they both screamed as they came violently together.
Dre pulled out of Fiona, grabbed his dick, and sprayed the front of her dress with a hot burst of cum.
Gasping and shaking uncontrollably, Fiona fell back against the printer and released a lusty, breathless laugh.
Dre leaned over her, chest heaving, big hands braced on either side of her body as he fought to catch his breath.
After several moments, Fiona glanced down at her ruined dress, then looked up at Dre and smirked. “That all you got?” she taunted.
A menacing grin curved his mouth. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
She sat up and quickly tugged off his pullover, her mouth watering at the smorgasbord of thick, rippling muscles that defined his massive chest.
“Dayuuummm!” she exclaimed before she could stop herself. Licking her lips, she ran her hands over his sculpted pecs and biceps, silently marveling,
This mofo is the epitome of cock diesel!
“My turn.” Dre yanked her dress over her head and tossed it aside. His eyes widened at the sight of her large, luscious breasts spilling from the cups of her skimpy silk bra. Unfastening the front clasp, he pushed her titties together and sucked her hard nipples into his mouth.
Fiona groaned with pleasure, gripping his bald head as the stroking motions of his tongue made her pussy drip.
She was on the verge of climaxing again when he suddenly grabbed her hips, flipping her over so fast it was a wonder he didn’t stab himself with her stiletto heels. As he rubbed the swollen head of his dick against her asshole, Fiona instinctively tensed, bracing herself to be split in half.
“Should I come through the back door?” he murmured wickedly.
Fiona swallowed hard, jerking her head from side to side. “I-I don’t think you’d fit,” she admitted weakly.
Dre laughed, the sound so sexy her belly quivered. “Punk ass.”
And with that, he plunged into her pussy.
Fiona screamed, her back arching as her walls stretched to accommodate his shaft.
She looked over her shoulder, watching the way Dre’s taut stomach muscles contracted as he thrust into her with long, thick strokes that sent her breasts bouncing. Adrenaline and lust sped through her veins, a powerful aphrodisiac that made her feel higher than any drug could.
“Fuck me,” she panted.
“Ain’t that what I’m doing?” Dre challenged.
“Nah, nigga,” she lied, barely able to get out the words. “You playing around with me.”
“Oh, is that right?”
She cried out as he slapped her round butt cheek, making her flesh jiggle. “Fuck me, Dre,” she half commanded, half begged.
“FUCK ME!”
He began pummeling her pussy, his hips pumping furiously as his heavy balls slapped her backside. Warm beads of perspiration dripped from their bodies and splattered onto the printer.
As Dre’s hand rose and fell against her ass cheeks, Fiona alternately moaned and shouted, her voice climbing in octaves as she felt another orgasm building in her loins.
Wrapping her hair around one hand, Dre yanked her head back and bent down to whisper in her ear, “Am I fucking you now?”
Fiona groaned, wishing like hell she could tell him that his dick game was whack, that she could have had a V8. But her mouth wouldn’t formulate the lie, because the indisputable truth was that Dre was the best lover she’d ever had—and she’d had plenty.
His grip tightened on her hair. “Answer me, little girl.”
Fiona closed her eyes. “What was the ques—”
He rammed his dick to the hilt, forcing her to scream at the top of her lungs,
“YES!”
as her body exploded, completely soaking his shaft.
He came seconds later, his guttural shout blending with her breathless cries. She shivered as he pulled out of her, splashing off on her back and ass.
Fiona collapsed on top of the printer, thoroughly spent and satiated.
After another minute, a deafening silence permeated the room.
And then Dre whispered hoarsely,
“Shit!”
Raising her groggy head, Fiona looked over her shoulder at him. He was staring down at her with the shocked expression of a man who just realized he’d not only cheated on his girlfriend but had betrayed her with a woman he despised.
Passing a trembling hand over his head, he hissed, “Fuck.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Fiona purred, “but you gotta let me ride that black python this time.”
Dre looked down at her luscious apple bottom glazed with pearly cum. His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened, leaving no doubt in her mind that he wanted to sex her again. And again, and again.
Feeling downright devious, Fiona reached behind her and massaged his cream into her skin, then sucked her sticky fingers one by one.
Dre swallowed visibly as his cock jerked in his hand.
Fiona rolled over on the printer, crossed her booted legs, and combed her fingers through her long black hair. As Dre stared at her, she licked her lips into a sensual smile. “Anytime you’re ready, Daddy.”
He stepped away from her, shaking his head as he hurriedly tucked his dick back into his jeans and zipped up. As Fiona watched in amusement, he retrieved her dress and lingerie from the floor and tossed them at her.
“Get dressed so I can clean up in here,” he ordered gruffly.
Smirking, Fiona gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
Dre grabbed his shirt and quickly left the room, as if he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her a second longer.
Smiling with satisfaction, Fiona eased down to the floor and took her sweet time getting dressed and smoothing her tousled hair. When she’d finished, she retrieved the copies of her paper from the printer tray, then calmly strolled out the door.
Dre was leaning against the wall with his head tipped back as he stared up at the ceiling, as if he were seeking absolution.
Fiona stepped right up to him.
They stared at each other.
Your secret’s safe with me
, she mouthed.
His expression darkened. Because he knew that her silence came with a price.
She winked at him.
He frowned.
Chuckling wickedly, Fiona turned and sauntered away, basking in the knowledge that from now on, she owned Dre Portis.
Chapter 23
Tamia
“I need your advice, Mama Esther.”
Tamia sat on the porch swing next to her grandmother, watching as the old woman’s nimble fingers moved her knitting needles with practiced ease.
“Speak your mind, chile,” Mama Esther encouraged.
Tamia hesitated. “It’s about Fiona.”
A shadow crossed her grandmother’s face, and for a moment her knitting needles went still as she stared off into the distance.
Tamia gently touched her arm. “Mama? Are you okay?”
Mama Esther met her concerned gaze, then nodded. “I’m fine, baby. What did you want to ask me about your sister?”
Tamia inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know what to do about her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She committed a horrible crime, Mama Esther. She should be locked up, but instead she’s roaming free because I never told anyone the truth about what really happened that night.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“You know why. She threatened to have me killed while I was in prison!”
Mama Esther eyed Tamia knowingly. “That’s not the only reason you kept your silence.”
“Yes, it is,”Tamia argued.
“No, it isn’t.” Mama Esther offered a gentle, intuitive smile. “You’ve always protected your sister. Remember when you were children and Fiona would break things around the house or sneak things out of your mother’s room? You’d always take the blame for that chile because you didn’t want her to be punished. It got to the point where your mama stopped whupping you because she knew you probably hadn’t done anything wrong.”
Tamia smiled softly, awash with poignant memories. “Poor Ma. She should have just whupped both of us to cover her bases.”
She and Mama Esther shared a warm laugh.
Sobering after several moments, Tamia sighed heavily. “I can’t keep protecting her, Mama.”
“I know,” her grandmother agreed quietly.
“She murdered an innocent woman. Isabel deserves justice, and her family needs closure.”
“I know.”
“Not only that, but her husband suspects I’m hiding something. He’s determined to find Isabel’s killer so he can clear his name and collect her insurance policy. So I know he’ll be coming after me again as soon as he’s out on bail.”
Mama Esther nodded, looking grim. “That’s probably true.”
Tamia groaned. “But that’s not even the worst part, Mama. The worst part is that Brandon will never forgive me if he finds out that I kept such a terrible secret from him. He forgave me for all the other lies, but finding out that I’ve been protecting a murderer will push him away for good.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I can’t lose him again, Mama Esther. I can’t.”
Her grandmother set down her needlework, then reached over and gently patted Tamia’s hand. “Don’t fret so,” she soothed. “Brandon loves you, chile.”
“Maybe, but that could change,”Tamia mumbled miserably. “There’s only but so much deception he can take.”
“Yes, but you should never underestimate the power of a man’s love.”
Tamia held her grandmother’s gaze for a few moments, then sighed. “I hope you’re right, Mama. Because I’ve never loved any man the way I love Brandon. I’d be lost without him.”
“Umm-hmm.”
Tamia kissed her grandmother’s hand and held it against her cheek, savoring the familiar warmth and softness of the old woman’s skin. “I wish you could have met him, Mama,” she said with a tender smile. “I think you would have loved him. He’s a good man.”
“I know he is,” Esther concurred.
“How do you know?”
“You wouldn’t love him if he weren’t. You may have given your body to that rascal Dominic, but you knew better than to give him your heart.” Mama Esther smiled sadly. “If only your mama had guarded her heart better.”
Tamia was silent, thinking of her late father, who’d abandoned her and her mother when Tamia was a little girl. Over the years, she’d often reflected on how different her life would have turned out if Emmett Luke had been remotely interested in being a husband and father. If he’d stayed in the picture, her mother wouldn’t have met Sonny Powell, the sadistic monster who’d wreaked havoc on their lives. If Lorraine had never met Sonny, Fiona wouldn’t have been born.
And maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.
Pushing aside the dark thought,Tamia watched as her grandmother’s deft fingers wove blue yarn between her needles.
“What are you knitting, Mama?” she asked curiously.
Mama Esther paused, lips pursed thoughtfully as she eyed her unfinished handiwork. “I’m not sure.”
Tamia laughed. “What do you mean? You don’t know what you’re making?”
“I think it’s a baby’s blanket.”
“Really?”Tamia grew still. “For who?”
Her grandmother frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
The two women fell silent, pondering the possibilities.
After another minute, Mama Esther prodded gently, “So what are you going to do about your sister?”
Tamia exhaled a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t know, Mama. Part of me knows that turning her over to the authorities would be the right thing to do. But another part of me is afraid of what will happen to her if the truth comes out. What if she’s sent to prison for the rest of her life? Or what if she gets the death penalty?” Chilled by the thought,Tamia rubbed her hands up and down her arms to banish the goose bumps that had risen.
“I’m so torn, Mama Esther. I don’t know what to do.” She eyed her grandmother imploringly. “I was hoping you’d give me some guidance.”
Mama Esther shook her head regretfully. “I’m afraid I can’t, Tamia.
You
have to bear this cross, because you’re the one who’ll have to live with the consequences of whatever decision you make. But until you decide what to do, baby, you’re gonna remain in prison.”
Tamia frowned. “What do you mean, Mama? I’m not in prison anymore. I was acquitted over a week ago.”
Mama Esther arched a dubious brow. “Then why are you still dressed like that?”
Tamia glanced down at herself, startled to discover that she wore the drab prison uniform she’d hoped to never see again.
“That’s strange,” she whispered. “I wonder why—”
But when she looked up again, her grandmother was gone.
 
Tamia’s eyes snapped open, sweeping desperately around her sun-drenched bedroom.
“Mama Esther?” she called out hopefully.
It took her several dazed seconds to realize that the entire conversation had only been a dream—a dream that left her feeling bereft and lonely for her grandmother.
Rolling onto her back, Tamia flung an arm over her forehead and blew out a long, deep breath.
Suddenly her cell phone rang.
She hesitated for a moment, then reached across the nightstand and picked it up, grimacing when she saw Shanell’s number on the caller ID. She considered letting the call go to voice mail, but she knew her best friend would only phone right back.
Heaving a resigned sigh, Tamia pressed the talk button. “Hey, girl.”
“Hey, yourself,” Shanell said suspiciously.“Why do you sound like you just woke up?”
“Um, because I did.”

What
? It’s after nine o’clock! Have you forgotten that Mark and I are supposed to be picking you up for the ten a.m. service?”
“No.” Tamia hesitated. “Listen, girl, I’m not going to church this morning.”
“Why not?”
Tamia wished she could tell Shanell the truth—that the pastor she revered was a lying, cheating, hypocritical scumbag who paid women for sex. But she’d promised to keep Honey’s secret, and a promise was a promise.
So she settled for saying, “I’m just not feeling Bishop Yarbrough’s ministry.”
“So that’s it? After attending
one
service, you’re done?”
“Afraid so. But you and Mark enjoy yourselves, and I’ll holla at you later.”
Before Shanell could utter another word of protest, Tamia ended the call.
“Good morning.”
Tamia looked across the room to find Honey standing in the open doorway with a spatula in her hand. Her hair was wrapped in a colorful satin scarf, and she wore a pink, two-piece pajama shorts set and fuzzy bedroom slippers.
“Hey, baby girl.” As Tamia sat up in bed, she gave Honey a teasing look. “I hope you weren’t planning to sneak in here and bludgeon me to death with that spatula.”
Honey laughed, shaking her head. “I was just about to start breakfast.”
Tamia raised a brow. “Can you cook?”
“Are you kidding? Girl, I can
burn
in the kitchen! My grandma taught me everything she knows.”
“In that case,” Tamia drawled, “maybe you’ll earn your keep after all.”
Honey eyed her hopefully. “Does that mean I can stay a while longer?”
“I didn’t say all that.” At Honey’s deflated look, Tamia grumbled, “We’ll see. Now go on and get breakfast started. I’m starving.”
Honey grinned broadly. “Yes, ma’am. Coming right up!”
As the girl headed back to the kitchen, Tamia’s thoughts turned to the dramatic events of last night. After Brandon left, two police officers had arrived to take Tamia’s statement, which they would use to file charges against Dominic. As Tamia answered the officers’ questions and allowed them to photograph her bruised throat for evidence, she’d felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience. Several hours later, she still couldn’t believe that Dominic had shown up at her apartment in flagrant disregard of the restraining order. And then he’d had the nerve to choke and threaten her, proving that he was even crazier than she remembered.
Although she’d thoroughly enjoyed watching him get manhandled by Brandon, she knew there would be repercussions down the line. Dominic was a conniving, treacherous motherfucker who wouldn’t rest until he’d taken Tamia and Brandon down with him.
Frowning at the thought, Tamia picked up her cell phone and called downstairs to the front desk. After identifying herself, she said crisply, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you supposed to call tenants when they have visitors?”
“Yes, Miss Luke,” the attendant confirmed meekly. “I apologize for what happened last night. Mr. Chambers has already spoken to my manager and expressed his, ah, displeasure. As I explained to both of them, Mr. Archer told me he was here to see another tenant on the same floor—”
“Who?” Tamia demanded.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” the man mumbled apologetically. “But the tenant confirmed that she was expecting Mr. Archer, so I had no choice but to let him get on the elevator. If I’d known about the restraining order, I would have personally escorted him to the apartment he was visiting. Rest assured that your safety is
very
important to us, Miss Luke. You have my word that nothing like this will ever happen again.”
“I hope not,” Tamia said tartly.“I’ve only been living here a week, and the three visitors I’ve had were allowed upstairs without my clearance.”
“If you’re referring to Mr. Chambers, I did try to reach you last night when he arrived, but you didn’t answer your phone.”
Because a lunatic was holding me hostage
, Tamia thought darkly.
“Since his name is on the lease,” the attendant continued, “I figured you wouldn’t mind if I let him up.”
“Wait a minute.” Tamia had gone still. “
Whose
name is on the lease?”
“Mr. Chambers. Your apartment’s in his name.”
Tamia was stunned.
“It is?”
“Yes. Didn’t you—” The attendant broke off as someone spoke to him in the background. After muttering a curse, he came back on the line sounding dismayed and apologetic. “I’m so sorry, Miss Luke. You weren’t supposed to know that.
Christ
, I’m such an idiot.”
A huge, elated grin had swept across Tamia’s face. She couldn’t believe it. Brandon had set her up in the luxury apartment. Not one of Lou’s clients.
Brandon!
On the other end of the phone, the distressed man was muttering anxiously, “I am
so
gonna lose my job over this.”
BOOK: Deception (Tamia Luke)
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