Consequences Read online

  I just had no idea how bad.

  4

  Trinette

  I pulled into the parking lot and was pleased to see staff parking spaces were available close to the building. Trust me, that was a good thing. I didn’t know what it was with kids, but the students attending the community college where I worked as a program coordinator were either too stupid to read the RESERVED parking signs or just didn’t give a damn, because most times they were taking up staff parking. My parking. Trust and believe, Ms. Netta had no problem calling security and demanding that he put tickets on all their damn cars.

  I climbed out of my CLK500 Mercedes, then straightened my gray Gucci skirt, making sure there wasn’t a wrinkle in place. I spent a great deal of money making sure I looked good, and rumpled was unacceptable. Satisfied I looked fabulous as ever, I sashayed toward the building.

  Students were hurrying off to class, but I saw the way they were looking at me out of the corners of their eyes. Hey, what can I say? I’m a bona fide dime piece.

  As I drew closer to the building, I could feel my temperature rising. It wasn’t because it was April and the forecast was seventy degrees. Nope. I felt like that at just the thought of seeing Jrue again. I didn’t know what it was about that fine brotha, but he was like potato chips. One was never enough. I couldn’t wait to feel his arms wrapped around me and those juicy, thick lips pressed against mine.

  “Good morning, Trinette.”

  I swept my fabulous weave over one shoulder and gave the security guard, Herschel, a nipple-clenching smile. “How’s it going, handsome?” He was nothing to look at with his highwater slacks and round belly, but if I wanted him to keep dishing out parking tickets when I needed, then I had to be willing to throw him a bone every now and then.

  I moved into the building and immediately my eyes were drawn to the clock up on the wall. I was thirty minutes late—not that I was really that concerned. After all, I was sexing the boss. Besides, I had something important to do this morning. In a couple of hours, I would have answers and could get past my ridiculous situation and enjoy a fabulous weekend.

  Pregnant? Me? There was no way in hell I was having a baby. The Lord knew who to bless with babies, and that woman wasn’t me. I was selfish and spoiled. Some things were just meant to be, and that wasn’t one of those things. Besides, I’d been having cramps all morning and was certain my period was going to start before Sunday.

  As soon as I stepped into the Career Pathways office, I was met by the smell of our administrative assistant Josie’s cheap perfume. I started to think that chick bathed in that shit.

  “Good morning,” I said as I swung my hips down the hall, giving my best Miss America wave. Sometimes I can’t believe how beautiful I really am.

  I worked as a program coordinator for the Great Expectations program at John Tyler Community College. I helped children who’ve grown up in foster care gain access to higher education and transition successfully from the foster care system to living independently. I took care of their tuition, purchased their books, and even helped the single moms find daycare if needed. It was a rewarding opportunity, and I still couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have been blessed with such an amazing job. But the icing on the cake was the director of the Career Pathways department, Jrue Jarmon.

  I unlocked the door and stepped into my small office, then slid behind my desk. From the other end of the hall I could hear Jrue on the phone, and that man had my heart pounding hard beneath my breasts. Quickly, I reached into my middle desk drawer for a handheld mirror and made sure my makeup and hair were still perfect, and wasn’t at all surprised to find that they were.

  By the time I had my computer booted and tuned in to The Steve Harvey Morning Show, I heard the clicking of high heels coming down the hall. Zakiya popped up at my door.

  “What’s up, girl?”

  I looked up and took a moment to assess her attire, and had to give her a nod of approval for the animal print wrap dress she was rocking. Even her weave looked good. Zee was a pretty woman. Not as cute as me, but definitely on point. No offense, but I’m a caramel deluxe, so it takes a lot to compare to a size sixteen beauty like myself.

  Since I’d started working at the college, Zakiya and I had become close as I could ever come to being friends with a chick besides Nikki. Nikki and I grew up together and are like sisters. But Zakiya was cool people. We shopped and hung out at the clubs together on occasion. She wasn’t Nikki, but she’d do.

  “Good morning, Trinette. Dory was by this morning looking for you.”

  Dory was part of the Great Expectations program. She had spent years in foster care after being sexually abused by her father. Her mother had turned a blind eye just like mine had when I was her age. One of the reasons why I had majored in social work was because I wanted to make a difference for these kids, and it was hard not to feel sorry for each and every one of them. I knew what they had gone through. I felt their pain, and that’s what made me so passionate about my job.

  “Did she say what she wanted?”

  Zakiya shook her head and I loved the way her weave swung along her shoulders. Yep, she definitely had spent money on some good-quality hair.

  “She showed up with little Quita. She was running all over the place. I thought Jrue was going to have a fit when she ran into his office. That man knows absolutely nothing about kids.” She laughed.

  Just the mention of Jrue and kids made my stomach do a nervous roll. He didn’t have any and neither did I, and as far as I knew that’s the way we both wanted it. I nodded. “I’ll give her a call.”

  I was hoping Zee would have gone on down the hall to her own office, because I knew for a fact she had plenty of work to do. She monitored the Dual-Enrollment program, which were high-school students taking free college courses for credits. Jrue had mentioned during one of our lovemaking sessions that he was still waiting on this month’s status report. But instead of leaving, she stepped farther into the room.

  “So what you got planned for the weekend?”

  I grinned. “Leon and I are going to see Kevin Hart this weekend.”

  Her eyes lit up at the mention of the stand-up comedian’s name. “Ooh, girl! I wanted to see that show, but there were no good seats left.”

  That’s because her husband wasn’t the CFO of one of the most powerful banks in America like mine. Leon had connections, so there were always tickets to concerts and sporting events. Nothing but the best for me, and Leon made sure I got it. Always. The lifestyle he provided was the main reason why our relationship had lasted as long as it had. The other was I truly did love my husband in my own unique way.

  We were talking about how funny Kevin Hart had been in Think Like a Man when Jrue appeared in my doorway. Oh, that man is gorgeous, with his dark chocolate skin, goatee, and midnight black eyes.

  “Good morning, Trinette.”

  I leaned back in the chair and greeted him with a smile. “Good morning, Jrue.”

  I noticed the way Zakiya was staring at my man like she wanted to lick him up and down like a Popsicle. He definitely had that effect on women. Luckily, I was the only woman he had eyes for.

  “Could I have a moment with you to discuss something private?” he asked and looked so serious I sat up straight on the chair.

  “Uh . . . sure.” I glanced over at Zakiya, hoping she caught the hint and was glad she had.

  “I’ll see you at lunch,” Zakiya mumbled before she walked out of my office and closed the door behind her with a click.

  Jrue stared at me as if he were a starving man and I was the main course. He reached over, turned the lock, and then walked toward my desk. “Hey, sexy.” He stopped in front of me.

  “Hello yourself.” Smiling, I flipped my hair away from my face and tilted my chin to greet his succulent mouth. As soon as our lips met, a warm feeling flooded my body. It was an emotion that was so new to me. I’m not going to lie. It felt so good. I was so crazy about this dude that I didn’t know where my hea
d was most times. The second his tongue slipped between my lips, my coochie started throbbing. I just loved the way Jrue kissed me. He made me feel loved and special. When he finally broke the kiss, he stared down at me with those beautiful, dark eyes of his. I just loved black men.

  “I missed you. I was starting to wonder if you were coming in this morning.”

  I sighed, then nodded my head. “I had a . . . I was just running late this morning.”

  “I’m glad you could make it.” He kissed me gently once more.

  I grinned up at him. “So am I.”

  Jrue took my hand, then lifted me onto the end of my desk and stood between my parted thighs. “I woke up this morning with a hard dick.”

  “Really? Then you shoulda asked your wife to take care of you,” I said with a playful eye roll.

  He stepped closer, reaching for me. “I don’t want my wife . . . I want you.”

  I smirked. Of course he did.

  He didn’t even wait for a response. His fingers dipped beneath the hem of my skirt and grazed my throbbing kitty-cat. Cocky ass.

  “What are you doing?” I asked like I didn’t already know. He had an insatiable habit of scheduling private meetings in my office.

  “What do you think?” Jrue murmured, then leaned forward and claimed my mouth in a kiss so filled with hunger I had to hold on to keep from falling. Oh, how I loved this man.

  “I missed you last night,” he mentioned between kisses.

  I leaned back. “I guess you should’ve canceled dinner with your wife.” I rolled my eyes and was still pissed at him for canceling on me. We had been meeting at the Holiday Inn in Colonial Heights every Thursday evening for the last six months. His wife had the nerve to drag my man to a fundraiser with her. Sometimes I wondered who was wearing the pants in that relationship.

  “I’ll make it up to you . . . I promise.” Jrue’s skillful hands roamed over my luscious curves before finally settling on top of my ass, where he gripped and squeezed, making sure I knew how hard his dick was.

  Hell yeah, I noticed.

  “Nasty ass,” I whispered. I got a kick out of our little game. “That’s all that’s ever on your mind.” That wasn’t completely true, but it felt good saying it.

  Jrue lifted a hand and caressed the side of my face. “Baby, you have that kinda effect on me.”

  “Is that so?” I said, gazing up adoringly into his eyes.

  “Yes, that’s so,” he confirmed.

  My nipples were hard, not to mention heat was settling between my thighs. His tongue eased into my mouth and I met his confident strokes. I moaned, then leaned forward, pressing my pelvis against his, desperate to feel every inch of him. And my man had plenty.

  Jrue’s hands clutched at my hips, holding me to him. It was his way of letting me know without a doubt what he wanted from me. “I need some pussy,” he hissed.

  “Is that so?” I whispered. Who was I to deny him what he wanted? Especially when I wanted him as well. With Jrue I had found my sexual equal.

  Jrue sucked and licked at my throat. My breasts swelled and my nipples puckered. “Play with my titties,” I commanded. Naturally, my man aimed to please and grabbed the twins.

  I had to struggle to keep my voice down to a soft moan, which wasn’t easy to do, considering how good Jrue made me feel. I already had a suspicion the other women in the office knew what was going on. I saw the looks and the way they rolled their eyes every time Jrue said he needed to talk to me in private. Jealous hos.

  One of his hands continued to play with my breasts while the other left my hips and smoothed its way down under my skirt again. As soon as I felt his warm touch, I shuddered with excitement.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked barely above a whisper.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all,” I breathed. Except that touching my inner thigh was not enough. I wanted those long fingers to climb higher, where I needed to feel him most.

  As if he could read my mind, Jrue growled against my throat. His fingers slid upward and the closer he got, the tighter my muscles clenched. I braced myself and the second he stroked my clit, my eyelids flew open with a gasp. The intense look on his face was almost my undoing. Lust was blazing in his dark eyes while his hand cupped my coochie possessively.

  “Jrue,” I warned.

  “What’s wrong? You want me to stop?” he asked as he slipped a finger under the elastic band at my crotch and stroked.

  “Yes . . . no.” I licked my lips, trying to stifle a moan. I couldn’t think straight when he touched me like that. “You’re starting something.”

  He arched a brow at me. “That’s the plan.” He separated my lips and stroked my swollen clit while he spoke. “You’re wet. Seems to me I’m not the only one who’s horny.”

  “Yes, God, yes,” I whimpered. Jrue always did have a way with words.

  “Then let’s get this party started. Turn around,” he ordered.

  His words were music to my ears. I loved doggy-style.

  I swung around and Jrue lightly pushed at the center of my back, drawing me down until I was flat against the desk. Without hesitation, he lifted my skirt over my hips. “Damn,” he hissed softly.

  I smiled and could just imagine how I looked leaning over the desk, with my phat caramel ass in the air, thighs slightly parted, and his gaze devouring me from my ass down to my brand-new pair of Manolos. Did I mention how much I enjoyed fucking in designer pumps?

  “Spread your legs.”

  I assumed the position. It wasn’t the first time we had made love in my office.

  He chuckled lightly. “Now, push that ass back and hold on to the desk.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I heard a zipper and his slacks fell to the floor. In a matter of seconds he had a condom on. Jrue moved between my thighs, gripping my ass just the way I liked it, and spread me wide. He slowly eased inside a little at a time, and I thought I was going to die from the pleasure.

  “Oooh yes,” I moaned as he slid farther, then pulled out slightly before pushing forward again. Dammit, he was teasing me, reminding me who was in control. Jrue knew just how to make sure my body craved him.

  I squirmed. “I want to feel all of it, dammit!” I said, urging him to pound my ass. Finally, he pushed all the way in. Nothing had ever felt so good. Using the desk as leverage, I rocked my body back, matching his steady rhythm.

  Jrue held on to my hips and penetrated hard and deep. With my mouth closed, I moaned, trying to hold it in, when what I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs how good this man was making me feel.

  “Ooooh, shit, you feel good!” Jrue groaned and steadied his strokes.

  Reaching around, his thumb massaged my clit again. And when he pulled out and slammed back in again, I cried out his name. “JJJJJJrue!”

  “Shhh,” he whispered and began to move faster, driving even deeper. “Don’t forget . . . the walls . . . are thin,” he reminded me between pumps.

  Fuck it. Let them listen.

  Within seconds, Jrue was sexing me harder and burying himself so deep I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on. “Come for me, Trinette,” he coaxed, and that was all the encouragement I needed. My inner walls squeezed his length as a long and powerful climax tore through my body. I clamped my teeth into my lower lip, suppressing Jrue’s name, and screamed inside. Jrue continued to pound and shortly after I heard a loud moan; then his body slumped on top of me.

  “Do you think anyone heard us?” I managed between breaths.

  “I don’t give a damn,” Jrue growled, and pressed his lips to my ear. “Nothing is gonna stop me from making love to you.”

  I wanted to say his wife had last night, but decided to leave it alone.

  “How about on Sunday we drive down to Charlottesville and have dinner?”

  What he really meant was Ms. Netta was on the menu.

  “It’s gonna cost you,” I warned.

  Grinning, he nodded. “I think I can afford it.”

  Yes, he
could. His grandfather, a real-estate tycoon, was loaded and had left him millions.

  We fixed our clothes; then he kissed me once more and returned to his office. I reached for the can of air freshener from under my desk and quickly sprayed the room before I opened the door. No one would think twice about the heavy scent since I always liked my office to smell good. Just like me.

  The phone on my desk rang, indicating it was time for me to get my ass back to work. I grabbed the phone and sang, “Great Expectations, Trinette Montgomery speaking.”

  An even, merry voice came over the phone. “Good afternoon, Trinette. This is Natasha, Dr. Parks’ nurse.”

  As soon as she identified herself, I sat up straight on the chair. “Oh, yes. I’ve been waiting for your call.” My heart was pounding so hard I could barely get the words out.

  “I just wanted to call and congratulate you. Your test came back positive. You’re pregnant.”

  5

  Nikki

  I pushed the cart to the front of the store. My assistant, Karen, had been busy checking out customers all morning, so I had no problem pitching in when time permitted. The one thing I loved about owning my own bookstore was seeing all of the new books as they came in from the distributor.

  I was in the African-American section adding a few new authors to the shelves, as well as some of the more popular ones. I noticed two copies of Naomi Chase’s latest book that were supposed to be on reserve behind the desk had accidently gotten in the wrong pile. Ever since that author came blazing into the literary world, her books were hard for me to keep in my store.

  Some of my customers complained that I segregated black books, but I did it for a reason. I wanted to make sure that African-American authors had a chance. How else can you introduce readers to new authors if their books are thrown on the shelves with all the others? As soon as you walked into my store, the colorful books were proudly displayed with eye-catching banners, poster-size cover displays, and more. The large section was proof that AA books were popular and our folks really do read, but I’m not going to lie. I kept the section close to the front of the store where Karen could keep a watchful eye on anyone who was browsing the aisle. No offense, but the popular authors, Carl Weber, Mary B. Morrison, and Zane, their books always seemed to come up short in my inventory and I just wasn’t having any more of that. It’s a shame that black folks would rather borrow and steal a book before spending money, yet we had no problem getting our hair and nails done on a regular basis. All I can do is shake my damn head. Sometime our priorities aren’t where they should be. Hell, I would know. I had been that same person back in the day.