Betrayal (25 page)

He inserted two fingers inside her, spreading her pussy wide so he could fuck her opening with his tongue.

She sobbed with pleasure, head rocking back and forth on the sofa, pelvis twisting and bucking uncontrollably. Brandon licked her ravenously, lapping at the warm juices that gushed out of her while swearing fiercely that her pussy belonged to him and him alone.

As tears ran down her face, he curled his fingers upward and thrust his tongue all the way inside her canal.

She screamed at the top of her lungs, her hips rocketing off the sofa as she exploded, creaming all over his sexy face.

He licked her clean, then reared back and tore off his shirt and wifebeater. Her glazed eyes roamed over the ripped muscles of his chest and abdomen, watching as he frantically unzipped his pants and pulled out his curved dick. It was so thick and hard, so engorged with blood, that she gasped at the sight of it.

Grabbing her around the hips, Brandon surged to his feet, lifting her from the sofa. Tamia locked her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist as their mouths met, tongues clashing in an urgent duel of wet heat.

Brandon reached between their bodies, impatiently shoving her dress out of the way. Cupping her buttocks, he thrust upward, ramming his ten inches into her.

She screamed and arched backward, her stilettos clattering noisily to the floor.

“
Fuck!
” Brandon swore savagely, bouncing her up and down on his dick.

Tamia wailed with ecstasy, unbearably aroused by the friction of his steel-girder pipe stretching her swollen slit. He fucked her standing up, the muscles of his stomach and thighs flexing with each driving thrust.

After several intense minutes he moved to the sofa and sat down, keeping their bodies tightly joined as he pulled her on top of him. His hands dove under her gown to grip her ass cheeks as he pounded into her, doing his damnedest to knock the bottom out of her pussy.

She rode his dick hard, her breasts nearly bouncing out of her dress. Her nipples were stingingly erect, her pussy was aching, and her clit was on fire. When Brandon eased his finger inside her asshole, she almost busted a damn nut. She shuddered as he stroked her tight anal muscles with a gentleness contrasted by the ferocious pounding he was giving her pussy.

They kissed and tongued each other as they fucked, panting harshly and groaning like animals.

He lifted her hips then slammed her back down onto his cock, repeating this three more times before they both erupted, heads flung back, mouths open as they unleashed primal screams.

Panting for breath, the inside of her thighs slick with sweat and come, Tamia could only collapse against Brandon, her head falling upon his shoulder as her eyes drifted shut. He kissed her damp temple and tenderly stroked her bare back as his chest rose and fell against hers.

After a long time, she carefully climbed off his lap and stepped back on unsteady legs. As calmly as she could manage, she smoothed down the rumpled folds of her gown and patted her sweaty hair.

Brandon watched her sullenly from beneath his dark lashes. “Where you going?”

She said quietly, “I need to go home.”

“No, you don't. Your home is right here.”

Tamia smirked at him. “Does your fiancée know that?”

Brandon clenched his jaw, glaring at her as he angrily zipped up his pants. “So that's it, Tamia? You fuck me then run on back to that punkass muthafucka like nothing happened? Like nothing's changed?”

“Nothing
has
changed,” she said tightly.

“The hell it hasn't.”

“Really?” she challenged, hands on hips. “What's changed, Brandon? We had sex but you're still engaged to Cynthia, and I'm—” She broke off as he suddenly shot to his feet and pushed his face into hers.

She stared up at him, heart thumping as the scent of sweat, sex, and fury swirled potently between them.

“You're what, Tamia? You're engaged, too?” Brandon grabbed her hand. “Where's that rock you were wearing on Saturday? Don't tell me you took it off to spare my feelings 'cause you obviously didn't give two fucks about that when you showed up at the banquet tonight.”

Tamia jerked her hand away.

Brandon glared at her. “So now you staying with that nigga?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He told you that?”

“Oh, yeah,” Brandon jeered. “He was only
too
happy to share how wonderful things are between you two.”

Tamia shook her head, bending down to scoop up her shoes. Sidestepping Brandon, she sat down on the sofa and shoved her feet into the strappy heels.

“Do you love him, Tamia?”

She didn't respond.

Brandon cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his probing gaze. “
Do you love him?
”

She pushed his hand away and sprang to her feet. “I'm leaving, Brandon.”

His eyes flashed with pain and fury. “What that nigga got, huh? What he got that I can't give you and more?”

“Brandon—”

“
Answer my fucking question!
”

“Commitment!” Tamia exploded, shouting into his face. “He can give me commitment, Brandon! He can put a fucking ring on my finger and walk me down the aisle—something
you
apparently can't or won't!”

“That's not true!” Brandon yelled hoarsely. “I
do
wanna marry you!”

“Sure you do!”

“Are you even listening to me? I'm asking you to be my damn wife!”

Tamia stared at him, stunned into speechlessness.

He stared back, chest heaving, nostrils flaring with emotion. “Baby—”

She slapped him hard across the face.

“How dare you?” she hissed furiously. “
How dare you!
You don't get to decide you want me now that you're afraid of losing me to a man you despise!”

“BULLSHIT! This ain't about that sorry muthafucka! I
love
you—”

“Do you, Brandon? Do you really? Tell me something. Where was your
love
for the nine months that we were dating and you refused to let me meet your family? Where was your
love
when you secretly took Cynthia to the governor's state dinner and introduced
her
to your parents? Where was your
love
when you attended the mayor's fundraiser without me and spent the whole night cozying up to Cynthia? Where was your
love
when I called and poured out my heart to you, begging you not to marry her,
pleading
with you to choose
me
instead?” Tamia sneered, shaking her head at him. “You don't love me, Brandon. I'm a trophy that you love to possess. But guess what? I'm not yours to possess anymore. Do you hear me? Contrary to what you choose to believe,
I don't belong to you!
”

“The hell you don't!” he roared, eyes blazing fiercely. “You can tell yourself whatever the fuck you want, Tamia, but we both know the truth. You're here right now because you love me! And like it or not, you belong to me as much as I belong to you, and nothing you say or do is
ever
gonna change that!”

Tamia got into his face, trembling with outrage. “You know what your problem is? Your problem is that you've always gotten whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, wherever you wanted. But not this time, Brandon Chambers. Not this fucking time!”

With that she spun on her heel and stormed from the room.

As she marched down the hallway she heard Brandon following her, but he didn't try to stop her from leaving.

When she reached the front door, he snarled viciously, “I don't care how good that nigga fucks you. I don't care how many different ways he can make you come and scream his name. Unless you're a whore, good pipe will only get you so far.”

Tamia's face flamed.

Whirling around, she shrieked furiously, “
Go to hell!
”

Brandon laughed harshly. “Look at me, Tamia. I
AM
IN HELL!”

She held his anguished glare another moment, then turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

She didn't even make it three steps before she burst into tears, sobbing so hard she doubled over.

It was only when she heard a loud crash from inside Brandon's condo that she managed to pull herself up and stumble down the hall to the elevator.

Once she was inside, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and closed her eyes, praying for the strength to get herself safely home.

But even that task threatened to be more than she could handle . . . because she didn't know where home
was
anymore.

 

Dominic was waiting for her when she returned.

He sat in the living room, lights from the tall Christmas tree scattering over him as he quietly toked on a blunt.

Tamia was instantly struck by a feeling of déjà vu.

This scene was hauntingly familiar. Except this time she was sneaking home to Dominic after being with Brandon.

Talk about an unexpected role reversal.

As she stepped out of her high heels and padded slowly across the floor, Dominic drawled, “So is this how it's gonna be?” His voice was slightly slurred, a result of the painkillers and the weed.

Tamia didn't answer him.

“Are you gonna be sneakin' off to meet him the moment I fall asleep every night?” he pressed. “Is this what I should expect goin' forward?”

Tamia sighed, perching on the arm of the sofa. “I can't talk about this right now, Dominic. And you should be in bed.”

He snorted bitterly. “I can smell him all over you. Did you fuck him? Or do I even have to ask?”

Instead of responding, she eased the blunt from between his fingers, took a long drag, and blew out the smoke.

Dominic watched her, one eye nearly swollen shut. “You seem sad,” he gruffly observed.

Her throat tightened. “I am.”

“Is it over?”

She stared at Dominic for several seconds, then nodded slowly and whispered, “It's over.”

His eyes probed hers another moment. Then he took the blunt from her hand and mashed it out in the ashtray beside him. “Let's go to bed.”

He draped his arm around her shoulder as she gingerly helped him to his feet. As they shuffled toward the bedroom, she muttered darkly, “It'd serve you right if your ribs
are
broken. You shouldn't have provoked him like that. You know how much he hates you.”

“I know,” Dominic drawled, “and the feelin' is definitely mutual.”

Inside the enormous bedroom, Tamia crawled beneath the covers with Dominic and held him in her arms, craving whatever masculine warmth she could get.

“You need to take a shower,” he grumbled drowsily.

“I will,” she promised.

“Good. Don't wanna be smellin' that nigga in my bed.”

She smiled sadly. “You won't have to. Not ever again.”

As Dominic cuddled closer, she gently stroked his battered face until his breathing slowed and deepened.

Long after he fell asleep with a contented smile on his lips, she lay awake staring blindly into the darkness, hearing the final door slam on her relationship with Brandon.

“Merry Christmas, Tam-Tam.”

Tamia smiled softly into the phone. “Same to you, Fee. How you doing?”

Fiona sighed. “Been sick as a dog. I can't keep nothing down.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Tamia murmured sympathetically.

“I don't know why it's called morning sickness when it lasts all damn day,” Fiona complained.

“I hear you. Remember Ma said she was really sick with both of us. But it only lasted for the first trimester, so just hang in there.”

“I'll try.” Fiona's voice softened. “Thank you for sending that old picture of us with Ma. I've been sleeping with it every night.”

“You're welcome,” Tamia said quietly. “I know how much it meant to you.”

She could see her sister nodding. “If I have a girl, I hope she looks just like Ma.”

Tamia's throat tightened.

The two sisters shared a mournful moment of silence.

“So what're you doing for Christmas?” Fiona asked, mercifully changing the subject. “Got any special plans?”

“Not really,” Tamia answered vaguely. She didn't know how Fiona would react to the news that she was shacking up with the husband of the woman Fiona had killed. It was all so strange, so hard to wrap her mind around.

“I bet I can guess what you're watching right now,” Fiona said knowingly. “The Disney Christmas Parade.”

Tamia chuckled. “Yup.”

Dominic had gotten her up early that morning to open presents. After they exchanged gifts—designer clothes, jewelry, matching silk robes—Tamia had whipped up some pancakes, eggs, bacon, and grits. After breakfast they'd shared a steamy shower. Not wanting to aggravate his bruised ribs by picking her up, Dominic had taken Tamia from behind, plunging slow and deep inside her as the hot water rained down on them.

Afterward, feeling lazy and listless, Tamia had curled up on the sofa to catch the Disney Parks Christmas Day Parade. She and Fiona had watched it every year when they were growing up—along with the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade—wishing they could be there to partake of the festivities.

Tamia picked up the remote control and muted the television. “Fee, Dre told me that he responded to your email over a week ago, but he hasn't heard back from you. What's going on?”

Fiona sighed heavily. “He wants me to have an abortion.”

Tamia frowned. “Is that what he told you?”

“Not in so many words. But I know that's what he was getting at. He said we need to talk, and he's willing to come all the way out here to see me.”

“That's good, Fee. At least he's accepting responsibility for getting you pregnant.”

“Not if he's coming here to try to talk me out of having the baby.” An edge of desperation entered Fiona's voice. “I don't want to get an abortion, Tamia. I want to keep my baby. Even though I'm locked up and I've been sick as hell, this baby has given me a reason to get up every morning. I don't want Dre or anyone else to take that away from me.”

Tamia was silent, absorbing her sister's heartfelt words.

“I was hoping to put him off for as long as possible,” Fiona confessed. “Maybe if I get far enough along in the pregnancy, he'll start wanting our baby as much as I do.”

Tamia sighed. “I understand where you're coming from, Fee, but I don't think you're being fair to Dre. If you have the baby, he's the one who'll have to raise the child alone. Of course I'll be there for him, but ultimately he's gonna be a single parent, and we both saw firsthand how difficult that can be.”

“So what're you saying, Tamia? That I shouldn't have the baby?”

“No, what I'm saying is that you and Dre need to sit down and discuss your decision together like mature adults. If he wants to come see you, you should let him. And the sooner, the better.”

Silence.

“Will you come with him?” Fiona asked hopefully.

Tamia frowned. “I don't think that's a good idea. This is a private matter between you and Dre.”

“I know but . . .” Fiona trailed off for a long moment. “Are you ever gonna come visit me? I know I was refusing visitors before, but today's Christmas and . . . I guess I was hoping you might have surprised me.”

Guilt gnawed at Tamia's insides as she pushed out a deep breath. “I won't lie, Fiona. A lot has happened between us over the past year. The things you've done . . . I can't say that I'm completely ready to forgive you.”

“I understand,” Fiona mumbled.

Laying her head against the back of the sofa, Tamia stared up at the ceiling. “That said, you're still my sister and you're having a baby, and I promised Mama Esther that I'd be there for you no matter what.”

“Mama Esther?” Fiona whispered.

“Yes.” Tamia sighed. “So if you really want me to come down there with Dre, I will.”

“Thank you, Tam-Tam,” Fiona said humbly. “It would mean a lot to me.”

“I know.”

Long silence.

“Do you think . . .” Fiona trailed off uncertainly.

“What?” Tamia prodded.

“Do you think Brandon would come too?”

Tamia's mouth went dry. “Brandon?”

“Yeah. I really need his legal advice.”

“What about the public defender who was assigned to you?”

Fiona sucked her teeth. “I don't like him. He's barely out of law school, and he doesn't know what the hell he's talking about.”

Tamia frowned. “But didn't he advise you not to waive your right to a jury trial, and you did it anyway?”

“Yes, but I didn't know at the time that I was pregnant. Now that I'm having second thoughts, the public defender says it's too late. But I've been doing some research on my own. If my judgment was impaired, or if I didn't fully understand my rights at the time I waived them, they have to give me a jury trial.”

Tamia's frown deepened. “When are you supposed to be sentenced?”

“Next month. If Brandon had been my lawyer, he
never
would have allowed me to waive any rights, no matter how much I insisted.”

“That's true.” Tamia closed her eyes, rubbing her temple. “But I don't know, Fee. I don't see how Brandon can take your case after representing me.”

“I know, but maybe he can recommend someone good. Now that I'm having this baby, Tamia, I don't wanna just throw in the towel anymore. I want to know what my legal options are, and Brandon's the best person to explain them to me.”

Tamia swallowed tightly. “If you want Brandon's help, you're gonna have to go through Dre. Brandon and I aren't . . . together anymore.”

“I know,” Fiona murmured sympathetically. “I've seen him with Cynthia on TV. If it makes you feel any better, everyone here hates that heffa.”

Tamia smiled ruefully. “Thanks.”

After she got off the phone, Dominic strolled into the living room and took her hand, gently pulling her from the sofa.

“What're you doing?” she protested. “I'm watching the parade.”

He chuckled. “You've been watching it for over an hour. Once you've seen one float, you've seen 'em all.”

“That's not true.”

“Yes, it is. Come on,” he said, steering her toward the front door. “Let's go downstairs.”

“Why?”

“They're having a little Christmas social in the lobby. Thought we could pop in for a while and be neighborly.”

“Aw, man, do we have to?” Tamia groaned. “I'm not feeling very sociable.”

“Come on, love. Where's your Christmas spirit?”

She grumbled, “Back on the sofa, still watching the parade.”

Dominic laughed. His face was battered, the skin black and blue. And somehow he still managed to be handsome.

As they boarded the elevator, he captured Tamia's hand and smiled down at her. “Don't look so depressed. It'll be fun.”

She smiled weakly. “I'm sure it will.”

But when they reached the lobby, it was empty.

Tamia frowned, glancing around curiously. “We must have missed it.”

“That's odd.” Still holding her hand, Dominic led her across the luxurious lobby, passing the concierge and heading toward the main entrance. The doorman grinned and tipped his hat to them. “Merry Christmas, folks.”

They responded warmly in kind.

Tamia was puzzled when Dominic ushered her outside. “Where are—”

Suddenly a red Porsche adorned with a huge silver bow rolled up to the curb.

Dominic exclaimed, “Surprise!”

Tamia's jaw dropped. “What . . . Are you saying this is . . . ?”

“Your new car? Yup.” Dominic grinned broadly. “Merry Christmas, darlin'.”

Tamia stared in shock as the smiling valet nimbly hopped out of the car and tossed the keys to Dominic.

“Oh my God,” Tamia breathed, walking slowly to the Porsche and running her hand over the sleek lines and contours. “This is too much, Dominic. I can't accept this.”

“Yes, you can. I want you to have the best, Tamia, and no offense, but that hooptie you been pushin' belongs in the junkyard.”

“Hey!” she protested, laughing. “There's nothing wrong with my Accord. It's just a little old and worn.”

“Well, ‘old and worn' ain't good enough for no woman of mine.”

A thrill of pleasure ran through Tamia as he pulled her into his arms. She smiled up at him, her back against the car. “So I'm your woman, huh?”

“Damn right you are.”

Her smile softened. She shouldn't have liked the sound of that. But she did.

“Seriously though, Dominic. The Porsche is amazing, but it's too much. Especially since you've already given me all that money to start my business.”

His eyes glinted. “So you saying you don't want it?”

Tamia bit her lip, sliding a covetous eye over the hot little convertible. It was definitely a serious upgrade from anything she'd ever driven.

Dominic held up the keys to the Porsche, jangling them enticingly. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Tamia groaned. “You know I do.”

“Then give me a kiss.”

She grinned, pretending to glance up and around.

“What're you looking for?” Dominic asked her.

“I don't see any mistletoe.”

Dominic smiled. “Then just close your eyes and use your imagination.”

He slanted his mouth over hers, and they shared a long, deep kiss.

“Hmm,” Dominic murmured. “About that ride—”

“Oh, no, you don't.” Tamia snatched the keys out of his hand and raced around to the driver's side, laughing as she slid into the low-slung car.

“Oooh.” She gazed around at the two-tone leather interior, inhaled the fresh new car smell, and squealed excitedly.

Settling into the passenger seat, Dominic grinned at her. “Damn. I knew you'd look hella good behind that wheel.”

“I
feel
hella good.” Tamia started the car, whooping delightedly as the turbo engine purred to life. “Let's take this sweet baby for a ride!”

“Yeah, let's do that. Then when we get back,” Dominic drawled, winking at her, “you can take
me
for a ride.”