Read Betrayal Online

Authors: Naomi Chase

Betrayal (18 page)

Chapter 26
Tamia
An hour later Tamia lay on her stomach, her eyes closed in dreamy languor as her masseur expertly kneaded the muscles in her back.
He was an attractive white guy with longish brown hair and blue eyes. He'd introduced himself as Seth when Tamia was escorted into the treatment room, which was aglow with flickering candles. She hadn't missed the way Seth's eyes glittered appreciatively as she'd slowly disrobed and stretched out on the table.
After pouring massage oil into his palms and rubbing them together for warmth, he'd gotten right to work, making her body melt beneath his skilled hands.
He spoke occasionally, his soothing voice barely rising above the serene music playing softly in the background.
“Are you enjoying yourself at the ranch?”
“Umm-hmm,” Tamia purred. “Very much.”
“That's good. Glad to hear it.” He pressed the heels of his palms into the small of her back. “How long are you staying?”
Tamia's eyes remained closed. “Just till Monday.”
Seth tsk-tsked. “Too bad. You'll have to stay longer next time.”
“Oh, most definitely,” Tamia agreed as he paused to retrieve more massage oil.
A few moments later he poured the heated liquid over her back, making her shiver with pleasure. And then his strong hands were back in place, moving slowly down her spine and sliding under the towel to massage her butt cheeks.
As a sharp coil of desire surged through her, she let out an involuntary moan.
The masseur's hands wandered lower, kneading and caressing her thighs until her nipples hardened and her pussy grew heavy with arousal.
Opening her eyes, she looked over her shoulder.
And gasped in shock.
Dominic had replaced her masseur.
His muscular chest gleamed deliciously with oil, and he wore dark shorts that clung to his strong thighs.
Tamia's mouth watered.
Pushing herself up on her elbows, she whispered, “What're you doing here?”
Dominic smiled, slow and wicked. “What does it look like? I'm giving you a massage.”
“But you're not . . .” She trailed off, looking around the room. “Where's Seth?”
Dominic's eyes gleamed. “He had to step away.”
“Hmm.” Tamia bit her lip, her gaze lowering to the thick bulge at Dominic's crotch.
He put his hand on the back of her thigh. The heat of his touch sent a shiver to her loins. “Do you want me to finish your massage?”
Tamia licked her lips. “Depends.”
“On what?”
Holding his gaze, she turned slowly on the table, the towel slipping from around her waist to reveal the smooth V of her Brazilian-waxed pussy. “It depends,” she purred, “on whether you give happy endings.”
Dominic stared at her exposed mound, his nostrils flaring. “I'll give you whatever you want.”
Tamia smiled seductively. “Then what're you waiting for?”
The words had barely crossed her lips before Dominic grabbed her hips, spun her around, and dragged her to the edge of the table.
She closed her eyes, tilted back her head, and let her thighs fall open as his mouth descended upon her. He licked her clit and sucked her plump folds, his tongue drawing nectar out of her like a beekeeper harvesting honey.
She moaned with pleasure, her back arching off the table as he stretched her legs over his shoulders. He groaned as he feasted on her pussy, telling her how good she tasted and how much he'd missed having her.
When her legs were shaking and her breath was coming in sharp gasps, he plunged his tongue inside her.
She cried out as her hips shot off the table. She came long and hard, her body convulsed by shudders that seemed to last forever.
When she opened her eyes, Dominic was leaning over her, lips glistening, eyes blazing with lust.
“I'ma fuck the shit outta you,” he growled.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Tamia panted as he flipped her over on the table and pulled her onto all fours.
She looked over her shoulder, watching as he quickly yanked down his shorts. As his thick cock bounced free, she saw that he was already wearing a condom. It should have bothered her that he'd been presumptuous enough to come prepared. But she wasn't mad—she was almost relieved that she didn't have to wait for him to wrap it up.
She trembled as he guided the dome of his dick between her pussy lips, basting himself with the silky juices that dripped out of her. Grabbing her ass with both hands, he rammed his cock inside her.
She let out a hoarse cry.
“Fuck,” he groaned, shuddering so deeply her body vibrated. “Damn, this pussy be
killin'
me.”
Tamia's inner muscles contracted as he pulled halfway out, then plunged back into her, his taut stomach slapping her buttocks. She grabbed the sides of the table, holding on tight as he began pummeling her sex with long, glorious strokes that had her seeing every star in the universe.
Soon, the tranquil background music was drowned out by the orchestra they were creating—guttural moans and exhortations accompanied by the sounds of Dominic's hand slapping her ass cheeks as he slammed into her.
He fucked her until she was cursing and chanting, not caring who heard her. Her heart was pounding, and every breath she took was filled with the heady musk of oil, sweat, and sex.
Dominic squeezed her bouncing breasts as she gyrated her hips, pushing her clapping ass onto his dick as they raced toward the finish line, shouting as they crossed together and exploded in ecstasy.
Dominic pulled out of her and tore off his condom, lashing her back and buttocks with hot jism. Tamia purred with satisfaction before closing her eyes and slumping weakly upon the table.
Dominic lay on top of her, his slick chest heaving against her back.
After a few minutes, Tamia murmured, “I'm not even gonna ask how or when you arranged this.”
Dominic chuckled. “I wouldn't tell you anyway.”
She smiled. “I just hope these walls are soundproof.”
“I don't think they are,” Dominic drawled. “But it doesn't matter because you were the last appointment tonight. There's no one here but us and Seth, and he says we can stay as long as we like.”
Tamia grinned. “You must have paid him very well.”
“Well enough,” Dominic murmured, licking between her shoulder blades.
She shivered at the hot stroke of his tongue. “In that case,” she purred, turning over on the table and wrapping her legs around his hips, “I guess you'd better get your money's worth.”
“I already have,” he whispered as he slid inside her. “I already have.”
Chapter 27
Brandon
Brandon came awake slowly . . . sluggishly . . . a man struggling to surface from the depths of a black abyss.
As he opened his eyes the pain hit him—spikes of agony stabbing into his skull.
He winced sharply, reaching up to massage his throbbing temple.
Gradually he became aware of Cynthia's warm body snuggled against his side, her head resting upon his chest and her arm flung across his stomach. Her legs were curled with one knee burrowed between his thighs.
Feeling her soft pubic hair against his skin, Brandon frowned and reached down to pull back the covers.
Not only was Cynthia naked. So was he.
Shit!
Just then Cynthia stirred quietly, roused by the cool draft on her skin.
Brandon watched as she opened her eyes and lifted her head from his chest. Meeting his stricken gaze, she smiled drowsily and mumbled, “Good morning.”
He stared at her. “What happened last night?”
She searched his eyes. “You don't remember?”
He swallowed hard. Shook his head.
She sighed, her morning breath gusting over his face. “What happened is that you got drunk out of your damn mind, and you tried to storm out of here before I stopped you. Which I had to.”
“Why?”
She frowned at him. “You had a
gun
, Brandon.”
Her words struck him like a blast of ice water.
He stared at her for a stunned moment, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands.
“It wasn't easy to keep you from leaving,” Cynthia grumbled. “You were a man on a mission. I thought I'd have to hurl myself at your legs and hang on for dear life just to slow you down. You only stayed because I started crying and complaining about having bad cramps, like I might be losing the baby.”
“You pretended to be having a
miscarriage
?”
“It was the only way to get your attention!”
Brandon closed his eyes, head throbbing as fragments of memory came back to him. The model home . . . Tamia and Dominic . . . her engagement ring . . . the weight of the Glock in his palm.
What had he been contemplating last night?
Suicide?
Murder?
Jesus.
“You were in a very dark place, Brandon,” Cynthia somberly confirmed. “It scared the hell out of me, to be honest with you. I don't know what you were planning to do with that gun, but I can only assume no good would have come of it. If it's all the same to you, I don't want our child's first introduction to his father to take place inside a penitentiary.”
Brandon absorbed her words in silence, his stomach roiling with nausea.
Cynthia sat up, her warm hands settling upon his shoulders. “The best thing that came out of last night was that we made love for the first time in weeks.”
Brandon stiffened. “We did?”
She smiled. “Umm-hmm.”
Brandon looked down at the floor, searching for a discarded condom that wasn't there.
“It was wonderful,” Cynthia purred, kneading his muscles.
“How? You said I was drunk.”
“You were.” She chuckled. “But your dick obviously didn't get the memo.”
Brandon grimaced, his head pounding harder.
“I know you have a hangover, but we need to hurry so we won't be late for church. And don't say you're not going,” Cynthia added before he could open his mouth, “because you
have
to be there. Everyone's gonna want to see you and congratulate you on yesterday's speech.”
“Doesn't mean I wanna see
them
,” Brandon grumbled.
“Baby—”
He stood so abruptly that Cynthia wobbled and nearly fell off the bed. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as she regained her balance and flopped back against the pillows, small breasts bouncing.
“I need a shower,” he muttered.
“We can take one together,” she coyly suggested. “Kill two birds with—”
“I'd rather shower alone.”
Cynthia pouted as he grabbed his smartphone off the bedside table and stalked to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
Tucking the phone between his lips, he lifted the toilet seat and took a long piss, mentally praying that he'd had enough sense not to come inside Cynthia when they'd had sex. If there was the slightest possibility that she wasn't pregnant—if she was lying about carrying his child—he didn't want to take any chances.
But considering that he'd been blitzed out of his mind last night, it was highly unlikely that he'd remembered to pull out.
Frowning at the thought, Brandon flushed the toilet and closed the lid, then grabbed his bath towel. Wrapping it loosely around his hips, he sat down on the toilet and pulled up Tamia's number on his phone.
He stared at the screen, contemplating what he wanted to say to her.
I love you. I'm dying without you. Please don't marry Dominic. I'm begging you, baby. Pleeeaaase!
Swallowing hard, Brandon sent the call through.
The phone rang twice before it was picked up.
“Hello?” The voice on the other end was deep and drowsy. Unmistakably male.
Brandon's gut tightened.
This muthafucka!
“Where's Tamia?” he snarled.
There was a short pause.
“She's right here sleeping soundly in my arms,” Dominic drawled smugly.
Brandon clenched his jaw, gripping the phone hard enough to break it. The throbbing in his head had become an excruciating roar.
Dominic chuckled. “We had a long night. Want me to take a message?”
Brandon closed his eyes . . . and hung up without responding.
Chapter 28
Tamia
Tamia slipped from the bathroom and crept toward the bed, moving quietly so she wouldn't awaken Dominic.
Sunlight streaked through the shuttered doors to cast warm puddles across the cool wood floor. It was the light, coupled with a full bladder, that had pulled her out of her comatose slumber. After the night she'd spent with Dominic, it was a miracle she'd regained consciousness before noon.
Nearing the bed, she paused to observe her lover. He slept with one arm flung over his head, the other draped across his stomach. The sheet lay tangled around his waist, and one long, muscular leg hung off the edge of the bed. Sleep softened his features, giving him a boyish appeal that contradicted the tattoos covering his biceps.
Tamia chewed her lower lip, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. She'd expected to feel conflicted the morning after sleeping with him. She'd expected to be consumed with regret.
But she wasn't conflicted, and she had no regrets. She'd thoroughly enjoyed making love with Dominic last night. So she refused to dwell on why she should or shouldn't have.
As she stepped closer to the bed, Dominic's eyes suddenly snapped open.
She squealed as he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto the bed and rolling on top of her.
“You faker!” she cried accusingly. “I thought you were asleep!”
He laughed. “Gotcha.”
She grinned up at him as he settled between her thighs, nothing between them but warm skin. “And here I was tiptoeing around so I wouldn't wake you up.”
He chuckled, bending his head to nibble on her neck. “I'm hungry, love.”
Tamia smiled. “That's why we need to get up and head downstairs for breakfast.”
“I wasn't talkin' about being hungry for food.”
Feeling his dick pulse against her stomach, Tamia groaned in protest. “Oh, no, not again. Nigga, you gon' wear my ass out.”
He grinned. “You say that like it's a problem.”
“It will be if you don't feed me soon.”
“Damn. So it's like that?”
“Yup.”
Dominic smiled at her.
Without warning, her mind flashed on an image of him thrusting into her, his hips pumping up and down as he gazed fiercely into her eyes and whispered,
“I'm never letting you go, Tamia. Never . . .”
“Tamia?”
The image evaporated, leaving her staring up at Dominic uncomprehendingly. She didn't remember him speaking those words to her last night. But maybe he had. Their lovemaking was so good, there was no telling what
she'd
probably blurted out in the throes of passion.
“What's wrong?” Dominic asked, searching her face.
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“You sure?”
She nodded.
He leaned down and kissed her, looking into her eyes as he stroked his tongue against hers. “I want you to spend Christmas with me,” he murmured without breaking the kiss.
Tamia went still, then pulled back and stared at him. “What?”
He smiled. “My family can't come for Christmas, and neither can yours. Since we're enjoying each other's company so much, there's no reason we should spend the holiday alone.”
Tamia pursed her lips, contemplating his suggestion. It was true that she'd been dreading the thought of spending the holidays by herself. Though Shanell had invited her over for Christmas dinner, she'd declined because she didn't want to feel like an interloper, the poor guest who had nowhere else to go. She would have given anything to celebrate Christmas and New Year's with Brandon, but that ship had already sailed.
She sighed, shaking her head at Dominic. “I don't know. Spending Christmas together . . . that's moving kinda fast for me.”
“I understand. I don't wanna rush you. Just give it some thought, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Good.” Eyes glinting wickedly, he reached between her legs and cupped her mound.
Her breath quickened as he rubbed her slowly and sensually, watching her eyes glaze with pleasure. Her hips undulated as he dipped his finger inside her, swirling it around until she came with a throaty cry.
She was still gasping when Dominic slid down her body and planted his face between her thighs.
“What about breakfast?” she breathed.
“Let me eat first,” he murmured, his warm breath on her pussy, “then you can have your turn.”
 
On the way back to Houston the next morning, Tamia's phone rang.
She was relieved when she checked the display screen and saw that it was Honey instead of Shanell, whose calls she'd avoided all weekend.
“Hey, girl,” Honey greeted Tamia. “Sorry I didn't call you back sooner. I've been working nonstop since Thursday. It's like these tricks are tryna get as much pussy as they can before Christmas.”
Tamia grinned. “Well, damn, save some for Santa.”
Honey laughed. “How about one of my clients dressed up as Santa and had me give him a lap dance. I'd barely started grindin' my coochie before he—”
“TMI,” Tamia cut her off, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Damn. You like sharing just a
lil
too much, heffa.”
“I know.” Honey giggled impishly. “I just love messing with you, Tamia. You're, like, the most prudish porn star I've ever known. Sorry—
ex
-porn star,” she amended with another giggle.
Tamia frowned. “Is your ass high or something?”
“Nah, girl. Not yet.” Honey sighed. “Anyway, what's up? You left me a message saying you had something important to ask me.”
Tamia paused, darting a glance at Dominic. Though his eyes were focused on the road, she knew he was listening intently to her conversation.
“Tamia?” Honey prompted. “What did you wanna ask me?”
“Um, what's Keyshawn's last name?”
Honey hesitated for a moment. “Greene.”
“Greene with an
e
?”
“Yeah.” Honey sounded wary. “Why?”
“I met him the other day,” Tamia answered. “I wasn't sure if he was your Keyshawn or a different one.”
“How did you meet him?”
Tamia hesitated, stealing another glance at Dominic. She hadn't told him about the note she'd received because she didn't completely trust him. For all she knew,
he
was the one who'd sent it. So she had to come up with another explanation for how she'd met Honey's boyfriend.
“I had to call the police on Thursday to report a disturbance in my building.”
“What kind of disturbance?” Honey asked.
“Some neighbors were arguing really loud and throwing shit around. You know how I feel about domestic disputes. Anyway, Keyshawn was one of the officers who responded to my call.”
“I hope you didn't mention my name to him,” Honey said anxiously.
“I didn't.” Tamia frowned. “Why would I?”
“I don't know, but I'm glad you didn't. Keyshawn doesn't know we're friends, and I wanna keep it that way.”
“Why?”
“Girl, if I ever have to stay with you again, I don't want his crazy ass to know where to look for me!”
“Of course. I understand.” Tamia smiled ruefully. “I gotta say, I was surprised to see what he looks like. No offense, girl, but he's kinda average for someone like you.”
“I know. That's what all my friends tell me.” Honey sighed. “What can I say? Er'body can't be as foine as Brandon, or even that West Indian brotha who was blackmailing you. Humph. Nigga might have been shady as hell, but he was sexier than a muthafucka.
Dayum!

Tamia saw the way Dominic's lips twitched, confirming her suspicion that he was seriously ear hustling.
“I can't even say I blame you for fucking him,” Honey continued. “I
know
that brotha can lay some pipe!”
Tamia blushed, watching as a wicked grin spread across Dominic's face. Wanting to teach him a lesson for shamelessly eavesdropping on her conversation, she sucked her teeth dismissively. “He was a'ight.”
She almost fell out laughing when Dominic's cocky grin turned into an indignant scowl.
Honey snickered. “Bitch, whatever. You know damn well that was some good dick.”
“Hmm,” Tamia murmured noncommittally. Hearing a man's disgruntled voice in the background, she smiled. “Is that Lou?”
“Yeah, girl. I stopped by his crib to give him his money like a good little ho.”
Tamia chuckled. “Tell him I said hey.”
Honey relayed her greeting to Lou, who called back affectionately, “Hola,
mamacita
.”
She smiled warmly.
“Did y'all kiss and make up?” Honey whispered into the phone so Lou wouldn't hear her.
“Something like that,” Tamia murmured.
“Oh, that's good,” Honey said with a sigh of relief. “You and Lou are like family to me, so I can't have you guys not speaking to each other.”
“We're good,” Tamia assured her.
“Cool. Oh, by the way, I think I'll be able to attend that fundraiser gala after all.”
Tamia's pulse tripped. “Really?”
“Yeah. Keyshawn has to work somebody's shift this weekend. So I'm free.”
“Oh,” Tamia said weakly. “Great.”
“Isn't it? I'm so excited. You'll have to help me find a badass dress to wear. I wanna look good for Beau.”
“Um, okay.” Out of the corner of her eye, Tamia could see Dominic's hand flexing on the steering wheel.
“All right, girl,” she said to Honey. “I'll catch up with you later.”
As she ended the call, Dominic sent her a long glance. “Everything okay?”
She forced a bright smile. “Everything's fine.”
Dominic didn't look convinced.
Turning toward the window, Tamia inhaled a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
The fundraiser gala was on Friday. That gave her less than a week to prepare herself—mentally and emotionally—to see Brandon again.
God help her.
God help them both.

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