Corporate Seduction (12 page)

The day Khalil came to her apartment and announced that he didn’t love her enough to marry her had been a body blow, but she’d taken it with all the courage and strength she’d inherited from her father. Love didn’t have jack to do with them being perfect for each other. Hell, she’d been cheating on him the entire time they’d been seeing each other and she doubted she could ever love a man as dry and stuffy as Khalil. But that didn’t change the facts: Marrying Khalil would ensure their families’ businesses merging , and her father would be forever grateful to her for that.

Khalil’s love cop-out wasn’t about to work. She’d get him back; it was simply a matter of time. Since lunch she’d been trying unsuccessfully to think of something she could do to force the issue. The ringing phone interrupted her thoughts.

“I’ve got some information for you,” the voice on the other end announced.

Sonya’s mood instantly perked up. “What is it?”

“How much are you willing to pay for it?”

Poor people always had money on the brain. “That depends how valuable it is to me.”

“Oh, it’s very valuable. In fact, I think this throws a monkey wrench in your crusade to get Khalil Franklin back.”

“Just tell me and then I’ll decide how much I’m going to pay.” Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she anticipated the news.

“You must think you’re dealing with an amateur,” the voice chuckled. “Remember, you contacted me with your little problem. I only agreed to help because of the obvious financial gain. Now, I think this information is worth about fifty grand. Get a pen so you can take down my account number. I want it deposited before this conversation goes any further.”

The person on the phone talked to her as if she didn’t know who she was. Sonya fumed. Fifty grand wasn’t a large sum of money to her but without knowing what she was paying for, it seemed like a fortune. “Your information needs to be confirmed first. I still don’t know that it’s that valuable.”

With a smile in her voice the person on the phone spoke slowly. “You can’t marry a man who’s involved with another woman.”

Raking her hands through her hair, Sonya paced the floor. Another woman? That was impossible. She and Khalil had broken up less than three months ago. How could he be involved so fast? “He’s welcome to appease his sexual appetite where he chooses if that’s what you’re hinting at.” Sex with Khalil had been less than adequate for her, so if he kept a mistress, discreetly, she wasn’t terribly upset over that. After all, she had her needs taken care of by someone else as well.

“Last time I checked you don’t send flowers to a good lay. Now here’s the account number. As soon as the money hits my bank, I’ll call you back with the name of the woman and the specifics of the relationship. Deal?”

Sonya stared out the window of her apartment. The view of Central Park was dismal, at best, but this was all she could afford until Daddy released her trust fund money, which he wouldn’t be doing until she married. Her patience was wearing thin but this person knew Khalil and was definitely in a position to know what was going on with him. She’d simply have to pull some strings to get the payment. “Fine. I want to hear from you before seven tonight.”

“Hmph, it’s almost three now. You’d better get moving on making that transfer.”

The line went dead and Sonya tossed the phone across the room.

* * *

“Hey man, I need you to do me a huge favor tonight.”

Donavan puffed on his cigarette again as he listened to Blade, his lifelong running buddy. “What favor? And why do you
need
me to do it?”

“You know about the parties I be throwing?”

“Yeah,” Donovan nodded. Blade was an entrepreneur not solely limiting himself to street pharmaceuticals.

“I got two of them tonight and one of my other dudes can’t make it so I need a fill in.”

“How much?” In Donovan’s world everything boiled down to money.

“Five grand.”

Donovan’s gloomy mood instantly lifted. He’d been thinking about his run in with Reka. She’d really messed him up. The time he’d been with her had been so different from being with any other woman. And when she walked away from him he’d been devastated. But years on the streets had taught him how to mask his emotions, so he’d simply let her walk, believing that in time she’d come back. But she hadn’t.

Finally he’d had no choice but to go to her. Funny thing was, Reka didn’t seem affected by him anymore. He remembered a time when all he had to do was touch her and she’d be like putty in his hands. He’d had her any and every way he wanted. She had been the ultimate relationship for him, and he wanted it back. She’d changed since then, he noticed. Her clothes were different, even her hair and the way she talked were different. Maybe working in that business world was changing her into a snob. Nah, Reka could never be that. But he had to admit she looked like she was making a pretty good amount of money at that big fancy law firm. So maybe he needed to step up his game with her. Maybe he needed to show her he had money too.

“All I gotta do is show up and I get paid?” Donovan asked, still thinking of Reka.

“Nah, man, you gotta participate too. But I’m telling you, you’re going to love it. I’m thinking about expanding so if you go tonight and you’re really feeling it, maybe the next location could be yours to run. I pull in about fifteen grand a week for one or two parties. And it’s a lot more legit then cutting and dividing out the goods.”

Donovan thought his words over for a minute. Fifteen grand a week was definitely more than he was used to bringing in, and he could still keep his hustling on the side. Nodding his head, he put the cigarette out. “Yeah, give me the address. I’ll do it.”

* * *

From outside it looked like all the other brownstones on the West Side, but once he stepped through the vestibule and into the foyer, Donovan quickly thought differently. He wasn’t accustomed to this type of fancy setup, but didn’t allow his ignorance to show. The walls were painted deep green, the thick carpet cushioning his steps a darker hue of the same color. Thick pieces of furniture that looked really old and really expensive were strategically placed. As he approached the living room, his eyes continued to roam.

In here the walls were burgundy, the carpet the same green as in the foyer. Floor to ceiling curtains with some fancy burgundy and green design hung from the windows, casting the room in a gloomy dimness. Candles were alight throughout the room and he inhaled a scent similar to the incense he had at home. On one wall was a long sectional sofa, burgundy velvet with big green and burgundy pillows. In the center of the floor was a black rug, furry, like some kind of animal or something. The only other furniture was a black leather recliner and as his gaze rested there, he noticed it was already occupied.

A man, dressed casually from what he could see, sat in the chair. A woman with flaming red hair that hung past her hips was sprawled on top of him. Donovan was instantly aroused. The woman’s skirt was hiked up so that the man’s dark hands on the pearly skin of her bottom were clearly visible. The woman moaned even as the man’s tongue thrust deeply into her mouth again and again. Then one of the man’s hands moved to her hair, pulling her head back as he traced his tongue down her neck to the swells of her breasts.

Donavan shifted as his erection strained against his zipper. Lifting a fist to his mouth, he faked a cough and waited for the couple to notice he was there.

The woman turned, casting him a sultry glare. Then the man hustled up out of the chair, but not before giving the woman a playful swat on her voluptuous rear end.

“Hey, man. You must be Donovan. Blade told me you were filling in for Mike tonight.” The man held an outstretched hand to Donovan.

With a shrug Donovan shook his hand. “That’s right. I thought there’d be more people here than this.” His eyes found the woman again. She was now sitting on the recliner, her legs spread wide, her breasts almost falling out of her blouse.

“Oh yeah. They’re on their way. Jeanie and I were a bit early. I’m Larry.”

“Okay, Larry. So what do I do now?” Donovan had never done a party like this before, but from the looks of that redhead he was sure he could get into it quickly.

“Just chill til the others get here. Then we’ll get started.”

With another shrug, Donovan started toward the couch, but was stopped by Larry.

“Why don’t you go on over and get to know Imani before the others get here. Imani loves to party and usually by the time all the guests arrive, she’s too busy to give personal attention.”

Imani had one finger in her mouth, licking its tip, then sinking its length inside. Donovan groaned, casting Larry a glance.

“Trust me, you want Imani’s personal attention,” Larry said as his hand went to massage his own throbbing groin.

Donovan didn’t need any further convincing.

Sonya arrived five minutes late, as usual. She didn’t like to seem too anxious about these types of things. Letting herself into the house, she first took in the gaudy décor and almost turned around to leave. But she’d had a horrendous day and needed this release like an addict needs a fix.

She’d gotten that return phone call at fifteen minutes to five and, while she’d hated being told what to do by such a no-class commoner, she had to admit the information she received was valuable. Khalil was seeing another woman and from the hundred dollar flowers he’d sent her today, it was serious. After fuming for another hour, Sonya finally decided on a way to get her man back. Though Khalil had always been adamant about not sharing his women, she blatantly disregarded that little rule of his, sure if he’d only known about her outside escapades it would have driven him wild with jealousy.

As she sashayed into the living room, a devious smile stretched across her face. It was past time to drive Khalil wild.

Donovan saw her the moment she walked in, and while he was presently indulging in the D cup breasts of Imani he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the pretty tall woman. Easing his mouth away from Imani’s magnificent breasts, he continued to palm them as he took in the full appearance of this Nubian goddess. She looked like money from her designer shoes to the slinky red dress he knew had cost a small fortune. Diamonds glittered at her ears, her hair was styled perfectly, and her lips were not too thick, but just right. Imani gripped his penis and was about to lower her mouth on him when the goddess’s gaze locked on him.

He was darker than any man she’d ever been with. His clean-shaven head glistened in the candlelight. His eyes were dark, filled with a passion that matched her own. His lips—hanging slightly open—begged to be kissed. Instinctively her nipples hardened and she didn’t hesitate to lift a hand to massage them.

His eyes grew to mere slits as his tongue traced his lips. She knew that he watched her, thought of her, even as his hands were on that fat tramp. Knowing she had an audience and loving every minute of it, Sonya slipped the thin straps down off her shoulders, holding the dress on simply by keeping her arms planted firmly at her sides. With a little maneuvering, her fingers managed to hike up the side of her skirt until all her leg was exposed and the thin strap of her thong was on display.

Like a moth to a flame, the ebony hunk rose from his seat on the couch, leaving a befuddled woman in his wake. Sonya didn’t hesitate as he crossed to her. She knew what she needed tonight, what would make this horrendous day worthwhile. Her eyes fell to his crotch, to the exposed length of his manhood and she smiled, her tongue snaking out to moisten her now dry lips.

“I’m Donovan,” he said as his hand reached out to grab one partially exposed breast.

“Donovan?” What a coincidence, she thought. The woman Khalil was seeing had an ex-boyfriend named Donovan pay her a visit on the job yesterday. “What a peculiar name. Tell me, Donovan,” she leaned over and thrust her tongue into his mouth, then quickly pulled it away, “what’s your last name?”

Donovan’s hand had quickly moved from her breasts to beneath her skirt, slipping past the brief barrier of her thong. “Jackson,” he whispered as his finger slipped inside her already wet center and he leaned forward to take her mouth again.

Her day had made a three hundred and sixty degree turn. Sonya’s legs trembled as Donovan slipped another finger inside of her. Imagine the good fortune of searching for a way to make Khalil jealous and running into the ex-boyfriend of Khalil’s new woman. And by the way he was working his fingers inside her and his tongue in her mouth, Donovan was going to be quite good in bed as well. Hot damn, she’d hit the jackpot tonight! She’d have to thank her friend for referring her to this new party.

* * *

Khalil was still anxious. Each time he knew he was going to see Reka his pulse quickened. The anticipation of being with her again filled him. What was it about this woman that made him feel this way? There were so many answers to that question. He could say her smile. Or he could say her confidence. Her wit, her savvy, her professionalism. The list went on and on.

He knocked and waited with anything but patience for her to answer.

“Hi,” she said with a smile when she opened the door.

“Hi.”

They stood for a few moments, like teenagers on their first date.

“The flowers were beautiful. Thank you.” Reka had sworn not to throw herself at him anymore, well, at least not for a while, but she couldn’t help wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tightly. The large bouquet of yellow roses had brought tears to her eyes when they were delivered to her office yesterday afternoon. She’d known instantly who they were from and couldn’t stop smiling. Unfortunately, Tacoma had been in the office with her. Actually, he’d been the one to retrieve the bouquet from the front desk, bringing it and a mouthful of questions into her office.

“A beautiful woman deserves beautiful things,” Khalil whispered into her hair.

Reluctantly pulling away, she folded her hands in front of her and smiled up at him. “You’re going to spoil me.”

Tweaking her nose, Khalil resisted the urge to pull her close again. “That’s my intention.” Actually his intention was to make her fall in love with him, but for now he’d settle for baby steps.

“C’mon and sit down. We’ve already had dinner but I could fix you something if you want.” Escorting him to the couch, Reka chatted amiably.

“No. That’s okay. I just wanted to spend a little time with you.”

They sat close, thigh to thigh. Reka didn’t know what to say next. In truth, she didn’t really want to say anything. She wanted him to kiss her, then take her into her bedroom, no, wait a minute. Grammy was in her room, lying down. She was going to have to do something about her grandmother’s living arrangements soon.

Khalil broke the silence. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?” At this moment he could ask her just about anything and she’d happily oblige. In the weeks she’d known him she’d discovered that she not only liked him, she really liked him. That wasn’t new for her, though. She’d really liked a lot of men in her life. But this didn’t feel the same. She thought about him constantly, about what he was wearing, what he smelled like, how his hands felt on her, how his lips felt. It was a wonder she could still do her job with all the Khalil thoughts running rampant through her mind.

“Thanksgiving is Thursday.”

“I know.” Reka waved a hand. “Don’t even start talking about it. Grammy’s talking about going out to shoot her own turkey and my mother’s claiming she doesn’t eat pork all of a sudden. Shopping for food is going to be a task this year.”

“Oh. You’re cooking dinner?”

He sounded disappointed. “I usually do the cooking for me, Mama and Grammy. We have our little meal, and then we sit and watch movies for the rest of the day. How does your family celebrate the holiday?”

“That’s kind of what I was going to ask you. I wanted you to spend Thanksgiving with me at my parents’ house.”

Reka’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “Your parents? The ones that live in Greenwich?”

Khalil chuckled. “I only have one set of parents, Reka. But it’s cool if you already have plans. Maybe I’ll come by here for dessert.”

“She don’t have no plans. She’ll be happy to go meet your parents.” The crotchety voice came from the direction of the stairs, signaling Grammy’s entrance.

Khalil immediately stood, going to help Grammy down the remaining stairs. “Hi, Grammy. How are you this evening?”

“I’m just fine, handsome, just fine indeed. Now you don’t pay my grandbaby no mind.” Grammy continued to talk as Khalil helped her into another chair. “You go on and meet his parents, chile. It’ll be fun.”

Khalil returned to his seat beside Reka. Reka cut Grammy an evil glare that the old woman paid no attention to. “Then what are you and Mama going to eat? She can’t cook, and you’d probably burn my house down.”

Grammy rolled her eyes and tucked a wayward strand of gray streaked hair behind her ear. “I’m the one that taught you how to cook, young lady. Plus, I might go down to Sunny Days.”

“You’re going home?” Reka sounded hopeful.

“That ain’t my home. But this fella, Cletus, he called me yesterday, said they were having a bingo marathon on Thursday after that tasteless holiday meal they serve.” Grammy crossed her heavy ankles and sat back in the chair, patting her hands together. “Cletus knows how I love me some bingo.”

Khalil suspected Grammy also loved her some Cletus. “So are you gonna come?”

Reka readily admitted to herself that she was nervous. Meeting Khalil’s parents, the people that brought him into this world, the rich folk that he’d been raised by, was something she hadn’t thought about. But he looked so hopeful, how could she turn him down? “Sure, I’ll go.”

The telephone rang, effectively ending that conversation and Reka thankfully got up to answer it.

“Listen, handsome.” Grammy leaned over towards Khalil and whispered, “You’re moving way too slow. Now the gifts are a good touch ’cause ain’t no man ever bought her stuff like that before. But it’s time you put forth a little more effort to woo my grandbaby.”

Intrigued by the woman’s candor, Khalil leaned over to hear her better. “What do you suggest, Grammy?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, those wine-colored eyes focused on him. “I suggest you and her get busy.”

Khalil’s widened with her words. “Come again?”

“You heard me. Mount her, put that old-fashioned whip appeal on her. That’s how you keep a woman like Reka. She’s a good girl, she’s smart and she has plans for her life. But God bless her soul, she’s just like me and her momma. We needs some good lovin’ and we needs it all the time.”

Khalil couldn’t contain his laughter a moment longer and only ceased when Grammy smacked him on the knee. “Now stop that foolishness. You take her to meet your parents Thursday, and then you take her back to your place and you lay it on her. I guarantee it’ll do you both some good.”

“You guarantee, huh?” Khalil didn’t know whether to take Grammy seriously or to remind himself that she was an aging old woman. Either way, her idea had some merit to it.

“Grammy, Cletus is on the phone for you,” Reka announced.

Grammy struggled to get out of the deep cushioned chair. Khalil rose to help her. “See, Cletus got a taste of my good lovin’ and that’s why he keeps a-callin’. Take my advice, handsome, and make your move.”

Khalil stared at her questioningly as she wobbled to the other end of the room to answer the phone.

“What was she rambling about?” Reka asked.

He turned to her, looked at those luscious lips and that curvy little body, and felt all the blood in his body rush immediately to his groin. “Oh, nothing,” he lied even as he hurried to take his seat again before she saw his arousal.

He was going to have to give Grammy’s words some serious thought.

* * *

To: [email protected]

From: Jack

Subject: The Naughty and Nice Collection

I’ve finally hit the jackpot! Jill was just as sweet as I’d thought. Forget the Tantalizing Thong Collection, it’s all thanks to the Long Lasting Lickin’ Lingerie. Kudos to the firm for offering Sensuality, Inc. all that good advice.

I’ve made it past first base and I owe it all to you!

If anybody needs some pointers, please don’t hesitate to contact me!

Jack

At 10:45
a.m.
the email hit every computer at Page & Associates. At 11:00
a.m.
Khalil was reading it for the third time. He was having zero luck tracing this guy, and that frustrated him. Not only that, his mother had called and left a message about Thanksgiving dinner and the possibility of him inviting Sonya. Add that to the fact that he wasn’t sure if he was getting to Reka or not, and he was more than frustrated.

His mind reeled with computer code, interfering family and a woman who drove him mad with desire. No wonder he hadn’t yet found out who Jack was. There was just too much other stuff going on in his mind. His temples throbbed as he downed the last drops of his now-cold coffee. Rubbing his eyes one more time, he resigned himself to the job at hand. He needed to find out who was sending these emails, and he needed to do it quickly. Once he had that part figured out—once Reka or one of her friends was excluded from the list of suspects—he could move forward. Keith would have someone to prosecute and he could concentrate all his attention on Reka. Maybe even take Grammy’s advice.

That advice had been uppermost in his mind since last night, and coming in the office this morning to a message hinting at Jack’s oral pleasure was not helping. As he read the message for the fifth time, he found himself growing more irritated.

A brief knock on his door almost had him yelling for whoever was on the other side to go away. Instead he took a deep, steadying breath and answered gruffly, “Come in.”

“Good morning. I thought I’d bring you another cup of coffee.”

Khalil looked up to see Tyrese, her long blond-streaked hair hanging well past her shoulders. Her facial features, inherited from the Caucasian side of her family, were more prominent as she smiled. “Ah, thanks, Tyrese. You really didn’t have to do that.” And that was the truth. Since she was the firm’s accountant, there was really no reason why she should be bringing him coffee.

Tyrese took a seat and crossed her legs. “It was no problem. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”

His brows raised in question, Khalil slid the cup of hot coffee out of his immediate reach. When he worked he had a tendency to push his keyboard around and he didn’t want the task of cleaning spilled coffee to be added to his already stressful day. “What did you want to talk to me about?” He focused on her instead of what he really wanted to be concentrating on—that message from Jack. She was a pretty enough woman, a little too conceited for his tastes. Although she was attractive, her heavy breasts were clearly meant for a thicker person and made her slim build a bit awkward. He had noticed that her blouses were always left unbuttoned, displaying a good amount of cleavage. That was probably meant to turn somebody on, but it wasn’t him.