Deception (Books 1&2)

Planting the Seeds

Ambrielle

Fumbling through the dark, I slid my hand along the wall for the light switch.  I flinched at the bright lights attacking my retinas, kicking my heels off somewhere to the side in the process.  I didn't care where they landed, I just wanted to get under my covers and sleep my heartache away.  Which is exactly what I did as soon as I got to my room.  Taking my arms throught the holes of my sleeves, I slid my  dress past my hips and onto the floor before collapsing on my bed.

I knew I'd regret not wiping off my makeup and tying my edges down with a scarf, but I didn't give a damn.  Just wanted to sleep and forget all about this day.  Wrapping myself in my comforter like a burrito until I got comfortable, I felt my eyes drift closed on their own, my muscles relaxed, sinking into the bed. Now this was nice.  Hands down the best part of my day.  I let the sound of my steady breathing take me, falling into a deep sleep.

Soft, wet lips trailed the bare skin of my back, sending chills down my spine.  I welcomed the tingles that followed the rough hands that gripped at my waist before traveling to my hips with a appreciative moan.  I was gingerly turned onto my back, the comforter was peeled off of me and I shivered, opening my eyes.  

His mouth was on mine before I could protest.  My body was already under his spell, he knew just what buttons to press--where to kiss, the right mix of pressure and gentleness.  He knew just when I wanted a little pain.  

"Eric," I breathily moaned his name, shamelessly, despite my better mind telling me that I should've felt otherwise.  My eyes rolled back into my skull, I bit down on my bottom lip as Eric relentlessly rolled his hips, hitting my spot.  Roughly.  As if he was letting off steam.

His hand tightened around my throat, with his head laid in the crook of my neck his breath tickled my ear.  I knew him well enough to know that he was close so I braced myself for what was to come after.  As he exploded inside of me, he kissed my cheek, murmuring sweet nothings into my ear.

With the sheet now wrapped around my body, I reached over to turn on the lamp.  "Bri, what the hell?" He grumbled sleepily, with squinted eyes.  

"You have some nerve, Eric.  Comin' up in here treating me like I'm some hoe--like you didn't just propose to that bitch in front of me less than," I paused to look at the time. "Five hours ago!"

"Look it's not like that," he sat up, letting the sheet fall from his chest.  

"Then what is it like?  'Cause from where I and a room full of other people were sitting, shit looked crystal.  So why you here, hm?  Go be with that bitch, the fiancé you love so much that you found your way back to my bed."  I couldn't help but scoff at the irony.

 "I do love Denise," he started.

"And I don't give a damn, nigga.  Get out!" 

"But I love you, too.  I just can't be with you the way you want me to."

It felt like salt was being rubbed into an open wound.  "Excuse me?"  I asked, choking back the lump in my throat.  "Last time I checked you were the one who's been telling me you loved me for years.  Don't sit up in my bed--emphasis on the my part of that seeing as how you should be laid up with your fiancé--and act like I made everything up in my head!"

Eric sat up even further, taking my hand in his in a way that was supposed to be comforting.  "Look Bri, I love you, but you knew what this was when we first started this.  It was never supposed to get this far with us--you always did your own thing and I always did mine.  I never meant for you to find out the way you did, but I don't love you in the way that I love Denise.  I'm sorry."  Gathering up his belongings, he stood bare assed in front of me.

"Get out,"  I demanded lowly as he threw on his sweatpants and socks.  Clutching the sheet around my body with one hand, I chased after him while he headed to the door, screaming at his back.  "And you better not bring your ass back around here when you realize that weak ass girl could never be me!"  

I snatched one of the pillows from the couch and chucked it at the door just as it slammed closed.  Breathing roughly, I stared at the door almost expecting him to come  back and apologize and make love to me again, but that never came.  With my back against the wall, I slid to the floor, tears rolled down my cheeks.

*******

About four weeks passed since the last time I'd seen Eric and as much as I didn't want to admit it, I was miserable.  I was lonely and self loathing--ashamed with myself for allowing somebody to have this much control over me.  To make matters worse, I had to see the bitch that stole him from me everyday.  Walking around on air, like she hadn't stolen the love of my life.  I loathed her.  Everything came to her so easily.  She never worked for anything in her life, I could tell.  From what I've been hearing, she and boss man have gotten pretty cozy, that's probably why she's lasted so long. 

For her, life was perfect.  For me?  It was a bitch.  To add the icing on the already nasty ass cake, I might be coming down with the flu or something.  For the past few days, I haven't been able to keep certain foods down.  I've been tired as hell, while oddly enough not being able to get any decent rest.  Even now, as I sat behind my desk trying to focus on my work, my body was too out of whack to ever hope of getting anything accomplished.

Taking out my compact mirror, I cringed at my reflection.  In short, I looked like shit draped in Chanel.  Chugging water didn't help, so I opted for taking the rest of the day off.  It would probably be in my favor to visit my doctor, too.  

Tossing my half empty plastic water bottle and compact into my fuchsia Michael Kors bag, I snatched it up by the handles before sulking out of my office.  My face felt like it was on fire and my stomach was growling like hell, but at this point I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold it down.  I leaned my back against the cool, metal rail in the elevator.  The bright fluorescent lights did nothing but egg my headache on.  

Am I dying? I whined to myself just as the doors pinged open.  "Carol, if Mr. Davidson asks, tell him I've gone home sick for the rest of the day.  If I get any calls, tell them I'm unavailable until tomorrow morning.  If they're an important client, give them my business email or cell phone number."  I managed before throwing my sunglasses on and heading for the revolving glass doors.  

It was noon, the sun beamed brightly, reflecting off cars and the pavement.  As usual, it was hot as hell which only made how I was feeling worse.  For one last kick of the day, I see little miss perfect trotting towards me with a sickening sweet smile on her face.  I rolled my eyes so hard, I swore they almost popped out.  Luckily, the dark tinted sunglasses hid my eyes weel enough that she never noticed.

"Heading out for lunch?"  She asked, her salmon, sleeveless dress reflected the sun's light and contrasted with her skin complexion in a good way but, in my opinion, was still a little too bright for her.  Her hair was parted down the middle and bone straight.  The smell of her cheap perfume wafted through my nostrils, triggering my gag reflex.  "Are you ok, girl?"  Her lazily done eyebrows knitted together with concern as she stepped closer, making the scent stronger.

I gagged again, this time throwing up my insides onto the pavement.  "Shit!"  She said before reaching into the plastic bag in her hand and getting out some napkins.  I happily accepted, wiping the corner of my mouth and my chin.  She chuckled awkwardly.  "I hope you're not pregnant, girl.  I ain't got time to be raising no kids."

"It's most likely something I ate."  I said, faking a giggle with her to hide my piqued suspicion.  Remembering the last night Eric and I made love, I realized that it definitely wasn't anything I ate and it damn sure wasn't the flu.