Mistress for Hire Read online

  Also by Niobia Bryant

  MISTRESS SERIES

  Message from a Mistress

  Mistress No More

  Mistress, Inc.

  The Pleasure Trap

  FRIENDS & SINS SERIES

  Live and Learn

  Show and Tell

  Never Keeping Secrets

  STRONG FAMILY SERIES

  Heated

  Hot Like Fire

  Give Me Fever

  The Hot Spot

  Red Hot

  Strong Heat

  Make You Mine

  Want, Need, Love

  Reckless (with Cydney Rax and Grace Octavia)

  Heat Wave (with Donna Hill and Zuri Day)

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  MISTRESS for Hire

  NIOBIA BRYANT

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Interlude

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Interlude

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Interlude

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Interlude

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  DAFINA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Niobia Bryant

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-1652-1

  ISBN–10: 1–4967–1652–3

  eISBN–13: 978–1-4967–1653–8

  eISBN–10: 1–4967–1653–1

  First Kensington Electronic Edition: October 2018

  Thank you, Lord, for blessing me

  with the gift of storytelling, for the wisdom to utilize

  that gift,

  and for the readers who support and (hopefully) enjoy it.

  And always, for my angel in heaven, my mama,

  Letha “Bird” Bryant

  Dear Readers,

  The first book in the Mistress series, Message from a Mistress, was published back in 2010, and I never imagined that seven years later, I would be writing my fifth book following the shenanigans of the one and only Jessa Bell née Logan. That first book was eventually adapted to film, and by the time this new book, Mistress for Hire, hits the stores, the movie will have aired on Centric (now known as BET Her). Now that is hella dope.

  I just wanted to take a moment and thank you, the readers, for the tremendous support for this series over the years and for the way it has forever changed my life. Sometimes I am so moved by the support for all my books, across all genres, that I get emotional. There are a lot of good books available to spend your hard-earned money on, and I am forever humbled that you spend some on mine.

  Here’s to your support and the infinite ink in my pen. Teamwork makes the dream work.

  Best,

  N.

  P.S. Happy reading!

  Prologue

  Shit. Did I almost die?

  With a little grunt filled with fatigue, she wiped her face with her hands. She winced at the tiny pinch of pain and looked down at the intravenous line in the bend of her arm. She licked her full lips to relieve the dryness and then released a long, drawn-out breath as she sat up in the hospital bed.

  Gotta slow up. I like to get fucked up but not high enough to kiss Jesus. Shit.

  “Miss Smith, how are you feeling this morning?”

  She began to remove the tape holding the IV needle.

  “Miss Smith?”

  She looked up and was surprised at the nurse standing at the foot of the bed. “Miss Smith?” she asked, her throat raw and pained as she spoke. Who the hell is that?

  The dreadlock-wearing nurse nodded and gently smiled at her. “Do you remember who you are, where you are, what day it is, and why you are here?”

  “I’m Miss Smith,” she lied, not bothering with the other questions as she swung her bare legs over the side of the bed. “Did anyone wait with me?”

  “Honey, your friends didn’t even come with you. They gave your name to the paramedics and said they found you passed out in the bathroom of the club.”

  Figures. Nothing ever stops the party with that crew.

  The nurse shook her head as she pulled on latex gloves and came over to smooth back down the edges of the tape.

  “Can I have some ice water, please?” she asked the nurse, fighting the urge to knock the woman’s hands off her.

  “Sure.” She picked up the water container from the overbed table and removed the lid to look inside it. “The ice melted. Be right back.”

  As soon as the door closed behind her, “Miss Smith” quickly worked to undo the tape and free the IV needle from her arm. At first, she was a little unsteady on her feet, but still she moved as quickly as she could to look through the drawers and cabinets until she found her clothes and purse in a large plastic bag. Stuffing the sack under her arm, she peeked her head out the door of the room. She spotted a door to the stairway at the end of the hall. With one last cursory check that all was clear, she headed for it, thankful for the bright yellow no-slip socks as she hurried over the polished floor.

  Quickly she dressed in the wide-leg gold silk pants, white sequined halter top, ostrich feather coat, and heels that were more suited for the party she attended last night than day wear. She frowned and ignored the rancid smell of her own vomit dried to the material. She paused, vaguely remembering hurling in the middle of the dance floor.

  As she walked down the stairs, she dug the box cutter she always carried for protection from her clutch and cut the hospital band from her arm. She tossed it in the air, and it floated gently to the stairs behind her.

  Her eyes locked on the natural light flooding through the windows and the doors of the hospital, she took quick steps toward it, praying she didn’t look like what she was—a patient sneaking out of the hospital. Everything to the left and right of her seemed blurry because of her focus on the door. It was freedom to her and she craved it.

  When she finally reached the lobby of the hospital, she gripped the door handle and paused, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths as she fought the unbalance she felt. The unsteadiness. “Shit,” she swore, wetting her lips with her tongue and opening the door with as much energy as she could muster.

  A man on the other side of the door eyed her through the glass as he opened it and stepped back to allow her to exit.

  “Thank you,” she said with a half-smile and in a voice barely above a whisper as she stepped outside and took a deep breath of the chilly November air.

  Swiping at the sweat building on her nape beneath her curly hair, she moved on unsteady feet toward the bright yellow of one of the taxis parked on the street. From the moment, she slumped onto the backseat and gave the driver h
er address until she felt the taxi jerk as it stopped, she shifted somewhere between being sleep and being awake. She raised her head from the headrest and looked out the window at her apartment building.

  “Fifteen dollars,” the driver said in a Haitian accent.

  Nodding, she dug a twenty-dollar bill from her purse and pushed it into his waiting hand. Something from her purse fell to the floor of the cab and she bent down to pick it up. Her lip curled in anger as she looked down at the photo. The woman pictured in it was notorious. “Jessa Bell, you slick, no-good bitch you,” she muttered in disgust, climbing from the car and closing the door with a jut of her hip.

  As she tore the picture up, she wished it was just as easy to destroy Jessa Bell. Even through her fatigue and lack of clear thought, her gut burned with the heat of her anger. With a flick of her wrist, the pieces were freed into the air. She gave them one glance over her shoulder as they were caught by the wind before she entered the building.

  Chapter 1

  Six months later

  2015

  “Don’t go, baby.”

  Jessa Bell pushed her newly golden-streaked, chestnut locks back from her face as she looked down at the man she straddled in the middle of her king-sized bed. She raised her arms high above her head, lifting her full breasts higher as she stretched. “I have to,” Jessa said regretfully. “The responsibilities of being the boss.”

  One of his large hands slid up her toned thigh and around her shapely hip to massage her buttocks. He slid the tip of his thick middle finger inside her pussy from behind. She shivered and arched her back, lifting her backside to give him better access. They both moaned as he gently stroked her throbbing clit with his index finger. She spread her knees wider and pressed her hands against his strong chest as she circled her hips.

  None of the thrill he gave her had diminished since they’d become secret lovers. His touch was electrifying and almost addictive.

  She leaned in to dangle her breasts just above his hungry mouth, allowing him a few precious moments to suck one deep brown nipple between his lips before she rose, leaving him hard and wanting on the bed. Naked, Jessa gave him one last seductive and flirty glance over her shoulder before picking up her red satin gown from the floor to pull on as she crossed the gleaming ebony hardwood floors to the door connecting the master suite to the nursery.

  Her four-year-old daughter, Delaney, was a late sleeper. Jessa was surprised to find her bed was empty. Tying the belt of her robe, she quickly crossed the room decorated in cream with splashes of pink and walked out into the wide hall. She checked her mother Darla’s bedroom at the opposite end of the hall but that room was empty as well, with nothing but the scent of the smoke from the cigarettes she snuck clinging to the air.

  “Damn,” she swore in annoyance, entering the room to push all the windows open wide.

  Jessa was headed to the exit but paused at the nightstand to open the top drawer and remove her pill organizer. She replaced it after ensuring her mother had taken her daily dose of her antipsychotic medicine. She did a cursory check for alcohol or drugs while she was at it.

  “Thank God,” she muttered, when her search didn’t turn up anything.

  Her mother’s bipolar condition without meds and with alcohol spelled disaster.

  Pausing to check her reflection in the mirror over her dresser drawers, she ran the tips of her crimson red fingernails through her hair and smoothed her microbladed brows before she left the room.

  The ends of her robe slightly lifted behind her, exposing her brown legs as she rushed down one side of the double wrought iron stairs of the grand foyer. She headed down the long, wide hall leading to the den and kitchen. The loud sounds of some kiddie cartoon on the television reached her.

  Jessa felt relief to see both her mother and her daughter. Darla sat on one of the six high-back stools surrounding the island, and Delaney sat on the center of the granite top. She forced herself to relax.

  “Hi, Mama,” Delaney said, reaching out to offer Jessa one of the grapes she was eating from a pile on a paper towel between her open legs.

  Jessa smiled and felt her heart swell with love for her daughter as she came over and pressed kisses to her plump cheeks and neck. That caused a fit of giggles.

  “I got up and got her since you had company.”

  Jessa momentarily paused at the censure in her mother’s voice. Deciding to ignore her, Jessa slid the paper towel out of her daughter’s reach and picked her up to securely sit her in her monogrammed high chair at the end of the island. She grabbed a knife, cut all the grapes into halves, and slid them into one of her colorful bowls before sitting them before Delaney along with her no spill cup filled with apple juice.

  I will do right by you. I won’t fuck it.

  Jessa bent down to a press a kiss to the soft ebony curls of her daughter’s head. Her heart swelled with love that completely outmeasured the hate she harbored for her baby’s father, Eric Hall. She was determined to be a lioness and protect her cub. The sins of the parents will not visit upon my child. His nor mine.

  “How’d you sleep, Ma?” Jessa asked, acutely aware that her parents had made no such promises to her growing up.

  Their relationship could easily be likened to the ups and down of a roller-coaster ride. Jessa had been raised by her grandmother since she was six, when her mother, a high-strung woman who loved men more than she loved herself or her daughter, had left her behind. The notoriety Jessa gained from her lover attempting to take her life after she ended their scandalous affair had brought Darla back into her life three years ago. Jessa’s appearances on the local news and national talk shows had given Darla the motivation that she hadn’t had in over twenty years to find the daughter she abandoned.

  Ding-dong.

  Jessa looked over her shoulder at Delaney’s newest nanny, Winifrid, waving at them through one of the glass panes of the side door entrance. Thank God.

  Jessa felt better with Delaney being closely supervised by her nanny while she was at work. She and her mother were in the middle of one of the lows of their relationship, and Jessa tried not to feel guilty about those heated moments when she wished she’d left her mother to live in her brownstone in Harlem that resembled the homes on Hoarders.

  “Good morning, Ms. Bell,” Winifrid said after Darla let her in.

  Jessa gave the slender white woman a welcoming smile. “I’m running late, so I’m going to head back upstairs to get ready for work and then I’m right out the door, Winifrid. Just email your plans for you and Delaney today,” she said over her shoulder as she padded across the tiled floor of the kitchen.

  “And bye to you, too,” Darla said sarcastically.

  Jessa stopped and turned to eye her mother. She could tell from the tightness of her mouth that she was annoyed. With a lick of her lips, Jessa made her way around the island to come over and hug her mother with one arm as she pressed a kiss to her brow. “Good-bye, Ma,” she said, pushing warmth into her tone.

  Darla smiled, reaching out to playfully swat her daughter’s behind.

  “I have to go,” Jessa said, moving to allow herself one more kiss to her daughter’s cheek before heading out of the kitchen.

  “I hope you find your panties.”

  Jessa did not break her stride at her mother’s words as she retraced her steps back to her bedroom. The bed was empty, but as she neared her en suite bathroom she could hear the shower running. She glanced at his tall frame blurred by the steam and frosted glass. She made a point of ignoring the enticing sight.

  “You gonna join me?”

  And his inviting words.

  “No,” she told him, thankful for the heated floors as she crossed the room to fill the Jacuzzi tub. They had been among the main selling points when she purchased the beautiful four-bedroom, three-and-half-bathroom colonial in Carmel, a moderate-sized city in upstate New York. Well, that and the need to get away.

  Taking a small breath that symbolized far more than its size, Je
ssa used both hands to brush her shoulder-length hair from her face as she studied her reflection. It had been five years since she left the upscale gated community of Richmond Hills, New Jersey, behind, but the indelible memories remained. Her eyes clouded over as she lightly stroked her throat with her fingers.

  Five years ago, when she sent identical text messages to her three friends, Renee, Aria, and Jaime, taunting them that she was running away with one of their husbands, she’d never guessed where it would lead her life. Her intention with the message? To punish Renee and Aria with the lie for what she considered their faulty friendships and to give the coup de grâce to Jaime’s marriage to Eric. Much more followed. Much more than even she anticipated.

  Eric never left Jaime as he promised, and when she ended the marriage instead, Jessa ending their affair had been the straw shattering his sanity. He began stalking her with a ferocity that both scared and disgusted her. And then the man she once loved had tried to kill her. She flinched at the vision of her former lover’s face filled with irrational rage as he attempted to choke the life from her. Their adulterous love had turned into his obsession that swung between hatred and a desperation to have her. Just madness.

  Pow.

  The echo of the fatal gunshot he delivered to his own head in the moments before she slipped into unconsciousness seemed to still ring out around her.

  Jessa released a terrified squeal at the feel of strong hands suddenly on her shoulders.

  “You okay?” her lover asked.

  She forced herself to relax as she nodded and gave him a smile in the mirror before she moved away from his strength and heat to climb into the large tub. “I’ll see you later, okay?” she said to him, shifting her eyes away from the sight of his body naked, damp, and far too enticing.