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Authors: Niobia Bryant

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BOOK: Mistress, Inc.
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Jessa noticed his handsome features when he first opened the rear door for her to climb into the SUV, but dick and everything it was attached to was the least of her concerns.
“I am pregnant and the only man I would even think of having sex with is the father. And since he’s dead and burning in hell for all perpetuity, looks like I’m celibate for the next seven months or so. Still want that date or should we schedule ahead for the night after my six-week checkup?” she asked, the sweetness of her tone doing nothing to belie the sarcasm.
He chuckled. “Nah, I’m good.”
Jessa smiled coldly. “Short Hills Mall, please.”
She slid on her shades as she sighed and settled back against the plush leather of the seat. She knew she was a little too hard on the man, but it felt good to let a little of her normal bitchy self show. Her wit and snappy comebacks had always been a part of her charm. She felt a little like the old Jessa.
Bzzzzzzzzz.
She opened her bright orange Birkin and pulled out her cell phone. She frowned, not recognizing the number. “Hello?” she said, smoothing the deep waves of her hair behind her shoulder.
“Jessa, this is Jaime. I have Pleasure on the line—”
Jessa’s head pounded at the sudden intrusion into her life. “I’m not his pimp and don’t have to be privy to your business transaction of Dicks on a Dime,” Jessa said smoothly, recovering quickly.
I’m on a roll today.
“Real funny, Jessa. I thought you should tell Pleasure that you’re claiming to be pregnant and he might be
one
of the candidates.”
Jessa felt her anger rise, but she forced herself to smile as she saw the driver’s shocked expression in the rearview mirror. “Pleasure, why not just tell Jaime that all you did was eat the hell out of my pussy—and thanks, by the way. Now, unless science has changed and you can get a woman pregnant with your clever little tongue—particularly two months before we even met—then there is no chance in hell that you my
babbydaddy,
” she said, meaning to add extra emphasis to the slang term.
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t telling people I got you pregnant” he said, his dark and deep voice suddenly filling the line.
“No offense, Pleasure, but as fine as you are, your dick has more miles on it than a thousand rental cars. I wouldn’t raw you for a million dollars. So puh-leeze and bye-bye.”
Click.
The SUV came to a stop and her driver turned in his seat to eye her.
Jessa rolled her eyes and removed her shades. “Poor, Jaime, but your attempt at a Maury Povich moment missed the mark ... like that new hairdo of yours,” she said smoothly.
“You are such a bitch, Jessa.”
“How did you get my number?” she asked as she motioned for the driver to turn around and proceed ahead.
“Eric’s death has made a substantial amount of resources available to me. Financial and otherwise.”
“Well, you didn’t need to waste it getting my private cell phone number when I live down the street from you. Now, don’t blow all that money in one place, you don’t have the resources or the work history to build it back up again,” Jessa said, meaning to sound bored even as she quickly made a note to contact Eric’s private detective to see if he sold her number to Jaime. She might have stumbled on the man’s info in Eric’s home office and contacted him.
“Jaime, why don’t you go ahead and plan your evening of fun, fucking, and finances with your man-whore and I’ll enjoy a little shopping trip to make sure your stepchild has a wonderful wardrobe when he or she arrives.”
“That’s if you’re even pregnant, bitch ... and if you are, your bastard child means nothing to me. Clear?”
Jessa’s eyes glinted with fury and Jaime’s words felt like a gut punch. That was the third time the woman had addressed her unborn baby as a bastard. The third damn time.
Lord, this double-life–living, trifling, backbone-lacking, confused, and unsure heifer is trying me. She is trying me.
“Ooh, good comeback. You always were the smart one in our little clique,” Jessa said, her voice heavy with sarcasm as she let the slander of her baby pass ... for now. “And ask Pleasure to do that little tongue trick just above the clit. If your pussy isn’t numb from overuse, you should cum like crazy. I know I did.”
Jessa ended the call and dropped her phone back into her bag before sliding her shades back into place.
“You’re hell, huh?”
Jessa said nothing. Behind the cover of her shades, her eyes were filling with tears she refused to let fall.
“That’s if you’re even pregnant, bitch ... and if you are, your bastard child means nothing to me. Clear?”
Jessa dismissed Jaime but not her words. Who else would call her child a bastard or even worse—behind his or her back or even more boldly to their face. A child shouldn’t have to bear the sins of the parents.
Jessa fell silent with her thoughts as she looked out the window at the green trees lining the roads leading to Short Hills Mall. Day by day, the idea of having this child was settling with her. She would be happier if the baby wasn’t Eric’s, but there was no turning back on that now.
I am going to raise this child.
A soft smile lit up her face. But when she thought of her own mother and how easily she had left her behind, the smile faded and sadness filled her eyes. With focus she could see her face in the tinted glass and she wondered if she would ever forgive or forget being left behind. Abandoned. Shelved. Forgotten.
And it had hurt all the more because she had been a little girl completely enamored of her mother ...
 
“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred,” Jessa said, her voice slightly soft and husky even at the age of five. She ran her slender fingers through her mother’s shoulder-length hair and thought it was just as soft and pretty as her Barbie dolls. She set the brush on the table where her mother said and came around her to bury her face in her lap.
“Move, Jessa, ” Darla Logan said, her voice filled with irritation as she brushed her daughter’s head from her lap.
Jessa’s eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trembled as she stumbled back a bit.
Darla lit a cigarette and took a deep drag of it, her bright red lipstick staining the butt. She used her free hand to fluff the soft waves of her face before she finally glanced over at her daughter. She sighed as she turned in her chair. “Look, Jessa, your mama has a date. I’m trying to find you a new daddy,” she said, her eyes already showing the effects of whatever she kept sipping from the glass.
“Where my daddy?” Jessa asked, easing back over to the table to pick up her mama’s bottle of perfume. She inhaled deeply of it.
“No one knows that but him and God,” Darla snapped, as she took the perfume bottle from her daughter’s hand.
“But I thought Cary was gonna be daddy?” Jessa said, standing on the tips of her bare feet to pick up her mama’s lipstick tube. “I heard you call him Daddy when he spent the night. ”
Darla took the lipstick tube and lightly grabbed her daughter’s chin. She kindly smiled as she undid the tube and put a little of the bright red lipstick onto Jessa’s lips. “Look, you get your coat and I’m gonna take you to Grandma’s house,” she said, her breath filling Jessa’s nostrils.
The little girl frowned at the sour smell of liquor. “I’m staying the night?” she asked, her words garbled from the back-and-forth motion of the lipstick on her lips.
“Um, no, I’ll come and get you as soon as my date over. Okay?”
Jessa nodded and turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. “Everybody say I look just like you, Mama,” she said, smiling as she turned this way and that.
Darla stood up. Her bright red bra and panties looked even brighter against her deep bronzed complexion. Jessa watched as her mama picked her pocketbook up from the foot of the bed and took something from it that she slid into her mouth.
“Can I have some, Ma?” she asked, her hand already extending.
Darla looked down at her daughter with sad eyes. “Trust me, you don’t want none of this shit,” she said before turning to pull on the clothes laid out on her pretty white lace-covered bed.
Jessa ran to her room and grabbed her pink coat with the bunny ears on the top of the hood. She settled down on her knees in front of her television. Soon she was giggling from the colorful cartoons, actually ending her laughter with a sigh filled with content.
It wasn’t until the show went to a commercial that she jumped up and ran into her mama’s bedroom.
“Mama,” Jessa called out as she stood at the bedroom door and saw her mother leaning forward as she sat on the edge of the bed.
Jessa frowned as her mother fell forward off the bed and onto the floor. She rushed to her side as Darla struggled to rise to her feet. “You okay?”
Darla brushed her daughter’s hand away. “I’m fine, Jessa. Get off me!” she snapped.
Again the tears came and the bottom lip trembled. Her mother was her everything and she hated to make her angry.
Darla stumbled into the adjoining bath.
Soon Jessa heard the water running as she sniffed and wiped her tears with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she said when Darla reappeared.
“Okay, Jessa. Thank you,” she snapped, her words slurring, as she tugged on the wool coat that matched the dress she wore.
Darla was known for her style and fashion, and Jessa loved to play with her makeup, clothes, and jewelry.
“Let’s go. ”
Her mother grabbed up her hand and pulled Jessa behind her through the modest-sized home and out the door. Jessa felt like she was running to keep up with her mother’s stride.
Her grandmother lived just down the street and they were climbing the stairs to the big brick house in no time. Jessa pulled off her coat as soon as they stepped inside. “Grandma,” she called out.
“I’m in the kitchen,” her grandmother called back.
Jessa made to run in that direction, but Darla reached out to grab her arm. “Hey, give Mama a big hug,” she said, her eyes glazed.
Jessa was more than happy to oblige as she wrapped her arms around her mama’s neck.
“Tell Grandma I’ll be back to get you tonight. Okay?” she said, pressing a kiss to Jessa’s cheek.
“Okay, Mama.”
Darla smiled a little as she looked at her daughter. “You do look just like me,” she said softly before standing up and walking out the door.
Jessa moved to the window and pulled the curtain to watch her mother stumble back down the street to their house. She hoped her mother would turn and look back, but she didn’t. Something didn’t feel right.
Jessa was still standing there a little while later when a flashy red car pulled up in front of their house and her mother came outside with a suitcase in her hand. A man got out of the driver’s seat and took the suitcase to put it in the trunk before he got back in the car. They pulled away.
Jessa was still standing there when her grandmother walked out of her kitchen.
“Where your Mama?” she asked.
“She said she’ll be back,” Jessa said, her nose pressed to the cold window as her breath fanned out on it and then evaporated.
 
That was a lie. It was one of many her mother told her in the days after she left Jessa behind with her grandmother. Until the calls stopped all together.
Jessa shook her head as she remembered pressing her face to the car window anytime they would pass the house where she had lived all her life with her mother. Her grandmother owned the home, and once her mother ran away with the man in the bright red car, they eventually rented it out to a new family.
Jessa never laid eyes on her mother again. Not even at her grandmother’s funeral years later. It was as if she never had a mother and her mother never had a child.
Jessa pressed her hand to her belly and closed her eyes.
I’ll do better by you. I swear.
Chapter 6
Two weeks later
 
J
essa was just finishing one final lap around the large pond that made up the center of the Richmond Hills subdivision. Stationed around the water were the clubhouse with an indoor heated pool, a tennis court, a playground area, and a small dog park.
She came to a stop and bent over to press her hands above her knees as she inhaled and exhaled slowly as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down. It had been so long since she ventured from her cul-de-sac to take advantage of the amenities offered by the high-end subdivision.
Standing tall, she placed her hands on her hips in the form-fitting unitard she wore as she looked at the ducks in the pond. It was many Sunday afternoons that she and Marc would finally pull themselves from bed or from lounging around the house to sit by the pond and just read or talk or sightsee their neighbors.
She shifted her eyes over to the playground and envisioned a small girl of about six with pigtails and colorful bows laughing and running around with the other children. Her daughter.
Lord, I am grateful for this blessing, but I can’t help but wish this was Marc’s child and not Eric’s.
And that was the truth.
She would have to decide whether to even tell Eric’s parents eventually, and Jessa wasn’t looking forward to their intrusion into her life. Unless ...
Jessa shook her head. It would be ungodly to never tell them that their dead son had fathered a child before his death. She was trying her best to redeem herself, and how could she if she pulled another of her “old Jessa Bell” stunts like that? That would open the door to even more karma, and Jessa felt her plate was full.
But it sure would make life more simple.
Sighing, she moved over to take a seat on one of the black wrought-iron benches. Summer was finally drawing to an end and the breeze she felt had just a tinge of coolness to it. It felt good. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back to enjoy it.
“A neck made for ... kissing.”
Jessa stiffened and frowned in distaste before she opened her eyes. Vincent Grant was standing in front of the bench next to her, pretending to stretch. Jessa just released a heavy breath and eyed this silly Negro trying to beg for pussy on the sneak.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he said as he raised his arms high above his head.
Jessa fought the urge to stand up and push him hard enough to send him tumbling down the small embankment and into the pond.
Maybe a little dip will cool his perverted horny ass off.
Or maybe something else will ...
Jessa pulled her cell phone from where she had it snug and secure inside her sports bra. It was a little sweaty as she pretended to make a quick call but instead turned on her video camera. She pretended to put her arms over the back of the bench with the camera in the hand closest to him.
“I really wish you would let me take you out,” Vincent said, now sitting down on the bench and retying his already tied sneakers.
“And I wish you would understand that I am not interested in you and you’re harassing me,” Jessa said, being sure to tape him.
“I can’t stop thinking about fucking you,” he said, turning his head to gaze at her like he wanted her to see how serious he was.
And so Jessa eyed him as well. “And if you don’t leave me the hell alone, you pervert, I will take out a restraining order and then everyone—including your wife—will know that you dream of fucking me, you perverted ass.”
Vincent sat up straight. “Who would believe you?” he asked with a smirk.
Jessa stood up. “Probably no one,” she said before walking away. If the man approached her again, she would threaten to show it to his wife; then it was their problem to fix. She really wanted him and any other man looking for a quick fuck with a sexy woman to leave her the hell alone.
The next man to be blessed with my body will be my husband. And that’s all to it,
she said to herself, just before she spotted the woman who had been in the restaurant with Vincent that day walking up as she pushed a stroller.
Is this God’s way of telling me to show her the video now?
she wondered.
Jessa’s steps faltered as the woman neared. She was tired of being treated like she was the spider trapping men in her web.
“How you doing today?” the woman said in a polite and friendly voice as she passed Jessa.
“Good, and you?” Jessa responded, her words stumbling a bit because she was surprised by the woman’s kindness.
She looked down at her phone. The still image of him was on the screen. Was she a nice woman completely clueless to her husband’s philandering? Was it Jessa’s job to give the woman a clue?
She looked over her shoulder as the woman picked their baby up from the stroller and handed it to Vincent with a warm smile. If she didn’t know any better, she would think they looked like the perfect suburban family.
Looks can be deceiving.
Jessa turned and pushed her cell phone back into her sports bra, deciding not to ruin the woman’s day with her husband’s foolishness.
But shouldn’t she know?
Would she rather know?
Not in the gloating way she had texted Jaime, Renee, and Aria, but to truly let the woman know her husband was not to be trusted. Just a heads-up, woman-to-woman.
It was so much easier to be bad, because trying to do right, live right, and be right was a constant struggle. Still, Jessa was determined for the sake of her child to get her shit straight.
Thankfully, the nightmares about that night had faded along with the scars on her neck. She still didn’t use her beautiful living room as much as she had in the past, but every day things were getting better to deal with. Reverend Dobbins said she had only God’s presence in her life to thank for that.
Her interview on
The Kerry Kay Show
was scheduled to air Monday. In just twenty-four hours her story would shift from local drama to national news. Myra, her publicist, had already lined her up for several small speaking engagements and interviews. That day she even scheduled Jessa for a full photo session for professional head shots.
“With your looks and your story of survival and redemption, this could be big,” Myra kept telling her. “Just hold on and enjoy your ride through fifteen minutes of fame—and if we work it right, that fifteen could stretch much farther. Trust me.”
Jessa didn’t have much trust in anything. Never had. But she was going to use the platform ... and see where this road was going to lead.
She looked up just as a golf cart came on the trail toward her. She recognized the bright pink colors as Aria’s. It slowed down as it neared her, and for a moment she could picture Aria revving the gas and running her ass off the road. All Aria did was pass her by with her head straight as if Jessa didn’t exist in that moment or in her life.
Jessa chuckled as she continued on her way. She wasn’t looking to be friends with any of the ladies again. She just regretted the way she ended their friendship. But the end was coming anyway ... and so fuck her. Being friends with Jaime, Aria, or Renee was not going to get her into heaven, but apologizing for what she did to them could.
That was all she was concerned with, and if they didn’t know, they needed to know.
Reverend Dobbins said God had forgiven her and would always forgive her, but when would she be able to forgive herself? That’s what she was working on. And there was more to be forgiven. More than Jessa even liked to admit to herself. Something she never told anyone.
But God knew.
God knew everything.
All of our sins and griefs to bear ...
 
Jessa pushed her hair behind her ear as she took notes in her freshman math finance class. She still couldn’t believe she was a student at such a prestigious university. Her hard work in school had gotten her the grades to get in, and a few scholarships plus the college fund her grandmother set up for her in her will was paying the bills. She would graduate without one school loan to tie her down.
Although her grandmother had never been overly affectionate and at times acted like raising her grandchild had been a burden, Jessa was thankful for the trust fund and grateful for the chance to build her own legacy outside of being the little girl betrayed by her father and left behind by her mother.
“Miss Logan
...
Miss Logan?”
Jessa looked up at her professor staring at her from where he sat his tall and lanky frame on the edge of his desk at the front of the class. Every eye in the class was on her and her heart pounded. “Yes?”
Just then the class began to stir and Jessa looked down at her watch. Their hour-and-fifteen-minute class was over.
“Don’t forget your reports are due Monday. Enjoy your weekend,” Professor Reign said, turning to begin placing papers in his worn leather briefcase.
Jessa rose and began gathering her things into her book bag. She walked over to the door behind one of her classmates, but instead of walking out the door behind him, she stepped back and closed the door before locking it. She dropped her bag to the floor and turned to eye her professor.
He dropped his head as he massaged his beard. “Jessa—”
“What, Jon?” she asked, eyeing the tall man with the type of skin tone that made his race ambiguous.
He was mixed. His mother was Latino and his father was a mix of Pakistani and Black. He was tall, well over six feet, and his frame was rail thin, but he was strong. He was handsome and had this kind of laid-back air that was nothing like Jessa had ever seen before.
She had made the choice to fuck the professor, and once she set her mind to it, he hadn’t been able to resist her stunts. Just like he wouldn’t be able to resist her now.
She smiled as she walked over to where he stood. “So you don’t want this pussy anymore?” Jessa asked, grabbing his hands and pulling them behind her to press against her buttocks in the jean dress she wore.
He snatched his hands away and lightly grabbed her upper arm to guide her toward the door of the classroom. “I told you I don’t want to do this anymore. My wife is suspicious, ” he said, pushing her hands away as Jessa tried to unbutton the jeans he wore.
“Fuck your wife,” Jessa said, meaning it. In her world, it was all about her. Caring about what other people wanted or felt left her open to getting hurt, getting disappointed, getting left behind. “As a matter of fact, Jon,
fuck me.
”
He stepped away from her and Jessa stepped back just enough to lift the edge of her dress and pull her panties off to toss over at him. “Smell it. ”
He caught her panties with one hand and eyed her before pressing his face against the black lace.
Jessa stroked the inside of her pussy with her finger and drew it up to her mouth to suck. She saw his dark eyes take in the move.
“I’m not going to lose my wife behind this,” Jon said, even as he stepped closer to her and pressed his large and warm hand between her thighs.
Jessa pursed her lips as she hissed in pleasure. “I want your dick not your heart, ” she told him truthfully, reaching out to unzip his jeans and release every bit of his long and thick inches. His dick was darker than the rest of him and damn near bigger than the rest of him too.
Jessa felt her clit throb with life. “I don’t have much time. I got another class, ” she told him, turning to press her hands to the door as she wiggled her bare ass at him.
“This is the last time, Jessa, ” he told her seconds before he spread her ass cheeks and slid his dick inside her wetness.
Jessa gasped at the feel of his hot hardness against her rigid walls. Her fingernails dug into the wood of the door as each stroke seemed to cause a vacuum inside her before filling her again.
His hands came around to unzip her dress and free her breasts from the bra. As he teased her nipples with his fingers and stroked his dick inside of her, Jessa bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Wanting control and wanting to please him, so that he would continue to be her secret lover, she rose up on her toes in her shoes and then bent her legs to work her hips to pull downward on his dick.
“Shit,” he cried out, bringing one hand up to tightly grasp a handful of her hair to jerk her head back and the other to ease around her body to lightly massage her clit.
Jessa cried out in pleasure as every pulse point on her body raced.
Knock-knock.
Someone knocked at the door. They didn’t stop. Jessa didn’t stop. She felt the vibrations of the door against her face as they knocked, but the feel of his dick inside her and his fingers titillating her clit was racing her toward an explosive nut that she wanted more than anything. More than whomever or whatever they wanted on the other side of the door.
BOOK: Mistress, Inc.
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