She pulled at his hair, forcing his face closer to her as she heaved her hips up and down. John slid his body back up along hers until their lips touched again. Before he could kiss her, Jessie cried out in ecstasy as she guided him inside her, squeezing and pulsing as he thrust deep and hard. She was a bit taken aback by how large he was, and it took her a moment to adjust to his size. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trailing her nails into his back, and then grabbing hard around his neck while he jerked his body faster and faster.
Jessie's orgasm came in an enormous wave that both cooled and warmed her body at the same time. She continued to cum as John picked up his pace, ramming her hard as he grunted in carnal concentration. She felt his body stiffen as he let out a long groan, flooding her pussy with his hot load. She could feel that it was a lot, and no longer felt embarrassed by how incredibly wet he had made her. It was obvious by his cum spilling out from her that she had turned him on every bit as much as he had her. He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily and trying to catch his wind as beads of sweat gleamed on his forehead. Holding him in her arms, she reflected on how beautiful his white complexion looked against her dark skin.
When he finally regained his composure, he lifted his head and his eyes met hers. She looked away sheepishly, her smile fading and her face growing solemn.
“What's wrong?” he asked her with concern.
“Nothing, except...”
“Except what?” he prodded.
“Sounds like a cliché, but… I seriously never do this on a first date.”
He smiled and pulled out of her slowly, his cock glistening with a mixture of their sticky cum. “Well, then I consider myself privileged,” he joked as he lay beside her and rested a hand on her stomach.
“Don't make fun of me, I'm serious,” she said.
“I believe you, Jessie,” John comforted. “But stop sounding like you regret it. That was absolutely amazing and really meant a lot to me. You're… you're just… wow. That was great. I don't regret it one bit and never will.”
“I don't regret it either and, to be honest, I tried so hard for this not to happen.” After a brief pause she jokingly muttered, “Apparently not hard enough.” Gently stroking her face she added, “But there's the subject of your wife to consider, you know?”
“I'll deal with that little problem. Or should I say, big problem. I know I'm still married by law, but I'll get this divorce over and done with so that you and I can...”
Jessie silenced him by placing her fingers over his mouth.
“Don't say it, John. Don't make promises you can't keep. I'm going to get dressed and go.”
She sprang out of bed and reached for her clothes, dressing quickly as he watched in confusion.
“You could stay at the hotel if you'd like,” John offered as she scurried to put herself together. He lay on his back with one arm behind his head, still completely spent from the mind-blowing sex they'd had moments earlier.
“No.” She smiled up at him. “This is better.”
“At least let me walk you down to the car,” he insisted as he made his way out of bed and began to dress as well.
They made their way back to ground level and, yet again, neither of them spoke in the long elevator ride down to the lobby. It wasn't an awkward silence, however, as Jessie still felt very connected to John, but the subject of Kimberly needed to be addressed and was weighing heavily on her mind. On the street outside the hotel, John opened the back door of his posh, black Bentley and leaned in to kiss her goodnight after making sure she was seated comfortably.
“Jessie, I had a wonderful evening,” he said earnestly.
“Me too,” she replied, staring intently at his lips.
“It's shitty timing, I know, but I have to go away for a few days. I have some business to take care of in Europe. Can I call you when I get back?”
“I'd like that,” Jessie said, looking up at him with her big, brown eyes. They kissed softly before he closed the door and waved goodbye as his driver pulled away from the curb. Jessie sat looking out of the window, a big smile on her face as she reflected on the evening while hoping it wouldn't be too long before she heard from John again.
Chapter Two
Jessie didn't have to work the next morning. She didn't have to go to school either, but she did have a few books to read through and some studying to get done. After a long, warm shower, she slipped on her pink silk robe, made a strong pot of coffee, and flopped onto the sofa. Reaching for the remote, she flipped the television on and was greeted with an infomercial for exercise apparel. She rolled her eyes and cruised through the channels until landing on one that made her sit bolt upright. Once again, Kimberly Harwood was making the celebrity news. She was being interviewed on the red carpet of a movie premiere, but she was merely a guest and hadn't appeared in the film itself.
“So, Kimberly, is it true that this is the end for you and banking magnate John Harwood?” The interviewer was a thin woman with straight blonde hair and thick, black eyelashes that were clearly fake and looked ridiculous. Kimberly was dressed in gold, her hair was swept up, and her makeup was perfect, as always. She grabbed the microphone and pulled it close to her bright red lips.
“There is absolutely no truth in the rumor. And that's all it is: a rumor. John and I have never been closer. We've had our differences, sure, but what couple hasn't? In fact, John and I are going to Europe to get away for a while and escape from all this nasty gossip. We're heading to Italy, to be exact. He wanted a second honeymoon. Who was I to say no?”
After a quick thank you and some typical ass-kissing, the interviewer faced the camera as Kimberly disappeared into the background with a female friend and climbed into a car with tinted glass windows. The annoying interviewer continued to babble on, but Jessie had no idea what she was saying. She was too busy watching the way Kimberly glided to the car and casually climbed inside. This did not look like a woman whose husband had just asked her for a divorce, Jessie thought as her blood began to boil.
She muted the television and recalled the last thing John had said. He had told her that was heading off to Europe, and that he would call when he got back. Why couldn't he call her from overseas? Her eyes widened as she realized she had likely been used. What kind of sick game were these two playing, and who was lying? John or Kimberly?
Jessica immediately picked up her phone and dialed information to find the number of Harwood Finance. She had them connect her, and waited anxiously as the phone rang four times before being politely answered by a male receptionist. She remembered the name of John's personal assistant, Heather Bryant, and asked for her directly. She was put on hold and anxiously waited yet again as jazz music blared through her receiver.
“Hello?” Jessie recognized the friendly voice.
“Um, I don't know if you remember me,” Jessie began. “I kind of barged into John Harwood's office one day...”
“Jessica Drew?” Heather replied without hesitation.
“You got it. Listen, I was wondering... could you tell me... I know he's out of the country, but has John Harwood gone to Italy?” Jessica managed to spit out while trying to remain calm.
“That's right, yes.” Heather's voice was bright and friendly.
“But on business, right?” Jessica asked, hoping she didn't sound as desperate and pathetic as she thought she did.
“Business and pleasure, I guess you could say. He has a meeting, but he needs a break from work, too. Listen, Jessica...”
“It's Jessie,” she corrected, and immediately regretted the hint of anger in her voice. She didn't mean to take her frustration out on this poor woman.
“Jessie, right. I don't know when exactly he'll be back, but I don't think it's appropriate for me to...”
“Never mind. You've told me all I need to know. Thanks, Heather.” Jessie hung up the phone and leaned back on the sofa, her mind racing and full of questions.
To say she felt like she had been played for a fool was
an understatement. John Harwood was just as good an actor as his wife, it seemed. He certainly convinced her that he had feelings for her, but she wondered why he should go to such an extreme to get her into bed. Was it some twisted wager he'd made with his snobby, socialite friends? “We bet you won't sleep with a poor, black girl,” she envisioned his wealthy friends laughing as they gathered at some ritzy country club.
She sipped her coffee. It was turning cold while she was becoming more heated at how she'd been so cruelly played. She pulled her robe tighter around her neck and looked at the muted television, scoffing at how ridiculous everyone looked moving their mouths with no sound coming out. Grabbing the remote, she shut off the television and sprang from the sofa.