Authors: Naomi Chase
Tamia frowned as she merged onto the busy freeway. Ultimately it didn’t matter who’d betrayed her secret. What
did
matter was that a complete stranger was blackmailing her for sex in exchange for his silence. If she didn’t give him what he
wanted, she risked losing everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. She couldn’t let that happen.
But could she really go through with becoming Dominic Archer’s sex slave? She’d never cheated on Brandon before. Never even been tempted. Sure, she’d often wished that he didn’t work such long hours so they could spend more time together. But she’d always reminded herself that any sacrifices she made now would go a long way toward securing her future as Mrs. Brandon Chambers. Fucking another man didn’t exactly fall under the category of “noble sacrifices.”And keeping such a sordid secret from Brandon wasn’t the way she’d envisioned starting a new life with him.
But what other choice did she have?
You always have a choice,
whispered a small voice.
The question was, which choice would she make?
Twenty minutes later Tamia stepped through her front door, locked the deadbolt behind her, and entered the code to reset her security alarm. Living in an ungentrified section of the Third Ward that had seen its share of home burglaries over the years, she could never be too safe. Which was also why she’d gone for a simple shabby-chic look when she’d redecorated her house several years ago. She’d heard of neighbors getting burglarized within days of buying new furniture and plasma televisions. On this block, everyone sat up and took notice of delivery trucks bearing the names of expensive furniture stores. If Tamia couldn’t find what she wanted in Ikea, she didn’t buy it.
Toeing off her sling-back pumps, she padded down the hallway to her bedroom. She’d grown up here with her mother and her younger sister, Fiona. With its long, narrow layout and windowless sides, the old shotgun house was as familiar to her as the nose on her face. It was the only home she’d ever known, yet she’d spent most of her life pining away for something bigger and better.
After her mother suffered a fatal stroke six years before, Tamia began socking away money so that she and her sister could move into a nicer neighborhood. With no mortgage to worry about, she’d been able to save enough for a down payment on a new house in just three years. And then disaster struck. Fiona was arrested and charged as an accessory to an armed robbery committed by her boyfriend. Her expensive legal fees had completely wiped out Tamia’s savings account, forcing her to postpone her relocation plans. To make matters worse, Fiona was convicted and sentenced to two years in prison.
Although Tamia faithfully visited her sister every other week, she’d never quite forgiven her for making such a damn mess of her life. If Fiona hadn’t been so caught up in that worthless bastard she was dating, she wouldn’t have wound up behind bars like some common criminal. If she’d exercised better judgment in her choice of boyfriends, she and Tamia would now be living in a two-story redbrick colonial with three large bedrooms, a gourmet kitchen, and a manicured front yard—the kind of house Tamia would have been proud to bring Brandon home to.
She grimaced at the thought. Deceiving Brandon about where she lived was the
least
of her problems right now.
Suddenly wanting to hear his voice—to assure herself that she hadn’t lost him yet—Tamia retrieved her cell phone from her handbag and speed-dialed his number.
He answered on the fourth ring, sounding tired and dis-tracted.“Hey, baby.”
“Hey, yourself.”Tamia sat on the edge of her bed.“Sounds like you’ve had a long day.”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“How’d the deposition go this morning?”
“Not as well as I would have liked. One too many surprises.” He pushed out a deep, weary breath. “I’ve definitely got my work cut out for me with this case.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tamia said sympathetically. “But I’m sure your client knows they’re in excellent hands. Speaking of which, why don’t you let me come over and give you a nice, relaxing massage?”
Brandon groaned.“Damn, baby, don’t torture me like that. You know I have to work late tonight.”
“I know. But maybe you can take a dinner break. I could bring some takeout and a bottle of wine, and we could eat on the floor in your office.” She smiled.“Now tell me that doesn’t sound good.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Brandon agreed, “and very tempting. But I really can’t tonight. I’ve got too much on my plate, and the last thing I want is for any of the partners to think I’m slacking because they walked in on me having a romantic picnic with my girlfriend.”
Tamia suppressed a long, deep sigh. “Of course. I understand.”
Hearing the note of disappointment in her voice, Brandon said,“I’ll make it up to you. How about dinner this weekend at Vic and Anthony’s?”
“
This
weekend?” she echoed skeptically. “You know it’s impossible to get reservations there on such short notice.”
Brandon chuckled.“Come on now. When have I ever had a problem getting reservations anywhere?”
He had a point there. All he had to do was mention his parents’ names, and doors opened to him as effortlessly as the parting of the Red Sea. Tamia was awed every time, and she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever get used to dating a man with such powerful family connections.
“Dinner sounds heavenly,” she told him.
“Great. I’ll have my secretary call the restaurant and get us a table. Let’s shoot for Sunday night.”
Tamia smiled.“Works for me.”
“Good. Then it’s on—”
“—like Donkey Kong.”
They both laughed.
“Well, let me get back to the grind,” Brandon said after a few moments.“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night, baby.”
“Good night.”
Tamia hung up and set the phone down on her bedside table. Although she was sorely disappointed that she wouldn’t be spending the evening with Brandon, she respected the ambition that motivated him to put in such long hours at the firm. He was committed to achieving his goal of making partner, much as she was committed to securing the promotion to assistant brand manager. Like Tamia, Brandon was competitive by nature and driven to succeed, which made him more compatible with her than any other man she’d ever dated.
At the reminder of her job, Tamia rose from the bed and made her way to the antique secretary tucked into a corner of the room. Hand carved and made of solid oak, the rolltop desk clashed with the bedroom’s other, contemporary, furnishings. But it had been passed down from Tamia’s grandmother, so it was the closest thing she had to a family heirloom.
She sat down at the desk and powered up her laptop. Since she’d left work earlier than usual, she wanted to check her e-mail to make sure there were no urgent matters requiring her immediate attention.
After accessing the company’s network, she logged into her e-mail account and saw that she had two new messages. The first was from the art director’s assistant, confirming that one of Tamia’s print jobs had gone out on time.
The second message was from an unfamiliar sender and included an attachment, the subject line reading “Food for Thought.” Normally Tamia would have dismissed it as spam and deleted it without hesitation, but some instinct warned her to open the e-mail.
As soon as she read the message, she broke out into a cold sweat.
Dominic Archer had struck again.
If I don’t hear from you by nine a.m. tomorrow, this video will be sent to your colleagues and your precious boyfriend. The clock is ticking….
Tamia’s heart was pounding, her insides churning with dread as she eyed the attachment labeled “mystique.wmv.” She didn’t want to open it. Didn’t want to face the demons she’d worked so hard to exorcise from her soul.
But she had to know. Had to see for herself what she was truly up against.
So she clicked on the attached file.
Seconds later the screen was filled with an image of her having sex with a dark, muscular man sporting dreadlocks. Her red-painted lips were parted wide beneath a black leather mask. Her plump breasts swung up and down as her costar fucked her vigorously from behind.
The graphic images seared Tamia’s vision and assaulted her brain until she couldn’t take any more. Hurriedly she clicked off the video and swept a panicked glance around the room before she remembered that she was alone.
Heart thumping, armpits perspiring, she lunged to her feet and began pacing back and forth across the hardwood floor. If Dominic Archer sent that bombshell of an e-mail, she’d be ruined. Not only would she lose any shot at landing the promotion, but the humiliation she’d suffer over the video would be devastating. She’d never live it down. And Brandon would never forgive her for keeping such a terrible secret from him.
She couldn’t let any of that happen.
So there was only one thing left for her to do.
Resigned to her fate, Tamia stalked over to the bed and reached inside her handbag. She retrieved Dominic Archer’s business card and grabbed her cell phone. With trembling fingers, she dialed the number he’d written on the back of the card.
He answered on the second ring. “Hello, Mystique,” he drawled.“I’ve been expecting your call.”
Tamia gritted her teeth.“When and where?”
He chuckled softly.“Don’t waste any time, do you?”
“When and where?” she repeated, in no mood for games.
“Come to my place.”
Tamia was surprised. She’d expected him to rattle off the name of a cheap motel, someplace befitting a sleazy tryst between a blackmailer and his victim.
She dug a pen out of her handbag.“Where do you live?”
As he recited the address, she jotted it down on the back of his business card.
“Tomorrow night,” he told her.“Be there at eight.”
“Fine,” she snapped.
Before she could hang up, he issued a soft warning.“Don’t be late. If I even suspect that you’ve gotten cold feet … well, I don’t have to tell you what will happen.”
Tamia swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat.“I’ll be there.”
“Good. Looking forward to it, Mystique.”
Tamia ended the call and tossed aside her phone, then rushed to the bathroom and lost the contents of her stomach.
“Knock-knock.”
Brandon glanced up from a voluminous report he’d been reviewing to smile at the attractive woman who’d appeared in his doorway.“Wassup?”
Cynthia Yarbrough returned his friendly smile. “Working hard or hardly working?”
He chuckled, gesturing to the mountain of case briefs, pleadings, and legal memoranda spread out over his desk.“You be the judge.”
She guffawed, waving a dismissive hand. “Aw, that’s just a front. We both know you’re hiding a Nintendo DS under all that paperwork.”
Brandon snapped his fingers.“Damn! Straight busted.”
They both laughed.
“The fellas and I are ordering Chinese,” Cynthia told him. “You interested?”
“Sure. I could go for that.” Brandon felt a pang of guilt at the reminder of Tamia’s dinner proposal. He wished he could have taken her up on the tempting offer, but he was just too swamped. Besides, he knew that she’d had more than food on her mind. One of Tamia’s fantasies was to seduce Brandon at work. She’d often joked about showing up unannounced at his
office wearing a trench coat and high heels and nothing else. If she’d decided to enact her fantasy tonight, Brandon knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist her. Which meant he wouldn’t have gotten any more work done that evening.
One of these days, after he’d made partner, he would indulge his libido with naughty romps at the office—like one of the senior partners famously had with his wife. Brandon would invite Tamia over for lunch, lock the door, close the vertical blinds, then sit back and enjoy one of her tantalizing stripteases. When he was good and hard—which never took long—he’d bend Tamia over his desk, spread her legs, and fuck her from behind until they both came in a violent rush. Just picturing her round, luscious ass backed against him as he thrust into her had his dick pushing against his zipper.
Yeah, one of these days he’d definitely make Tamia’s wicked fantasies a reality. But until then, he’d toe the line and keep his sexcapades out of the office.
“What’re you in the mood for?”
Snapped out of his lustful reverie, Brandon stared at Cynthia, wondering if she’d somehow read his mind. “Excuse me?”
“Chinese food,” she reminded him.“What do you want to order? Are you in the mood for something sweet? Or spicy?”
“Hmm.”
Get your mind out of the gutter,
Brandon thought, chuckling to himself.“Kung pao sounds good.”
Cynthia grinned. “Hey, that’s what I’m having. Great minds think alike.”
Brandon smiled.“That’s what they say.”
As Cynthia wandered into his small office, he covertly checked her out. She was in her early thirties, like him, and had a smooth almond complexion, delicate features, and a slender, graceful build. Despite the late hour, her white blouse remained crisp and tucked into her skirt, and she’d kept her shoulder-length dark hair pinned up. But she
had
made one concession, Brandon noted. She’d ditched her designer pumps
in favor of going barefoot, secure in the knowledge that none of her lowly fellow associates would rat her out to any of the partners, most of whom had already left for the day. Brandon observed her slim feet, the toenails neatly clipped and unpolished. He couldn’t help comparing them to Tamia’s perfectly pedicured toenails, which sported a sexy new shade and design every week. He’d never understood the appeal of sucking a woman’s toes until he met Tamia.
Following the direction of his gaze, Cynthia glanced down at her bare feet and laughed self-consciously.“I’ve been working so hard that I haven’t had time to get regular pedicures like I used to.”
“It’s all good. The natural look suits you.” Brandon grinned playfully. “Now, if you had toe jam and bunions,
then
I’d have to talk bad about you.”
They shared another hearty laugh.
Reaching his desk, Cynthia said,“The fellas are confabbing in the conference room, and I don’t feel like walking all the way down there.” She motioned to Brandon’s phone.“Mind if I just buzz them?”