LEWD
After an endless day of completing merger contracts, I was ready for comfort. The warmth of a home-cooked meal and the softness of my woman’s voice were the perfect pairing of heaven. Chest expanded, head high, with a smile plastered across my face, I stalked out of the doors, encasing me in Colonial Holdings . I was headed home to my lady.
Twice, my phone beeped, alerting me of an incoming text message. I silenced that, continuing my stride out of the metal detectors near the lobby of the building. Mid-wave to the security staff, the device sounded off again. This time, it refused to cease. Desperation lulled the sound. Already, I was removing my blazer and my tie and unbuttoning the top few buttons of my dress shirt. Today had fucking drained me.
The perpetual ringing of my device slowed my movements as I drew closer to the SUV parked out front of the building’s doors.
GRANDPA
I’d chat with him later.
Continuing my stride, I drew closer to the SUV. My outstretched hand grasped the door handle as yet another call came through on the line.
PRE
Not exactly in the mood for idle chat, I silenced the call and hopped inside the back of the truck. With Biram at the helm, we pulled off and into traffic. Rush hour in the city could mean a lengthier trip to the penthouse or Serenity’s place for the evening. We hadn’t decided, but she’d been at the penthouse more often than not, with an entire section in the walk-in closet space we shared.
Ceaselessly, my phone buzzed, alerting me of an excess of notifications. Niggas were really trying to get at me today.
Biram’s distracted movements tugged me from my device. At a red light and busy crosswalk, his attention was dipped toward his phone. The heedlessness caused my jaw to clench involuntarily.
“Biram, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Boss.”
“You’re on your phone, Biram, putting both our lives in jeopardy. Should I cancel your visa and send your ass back to Accra?”
“I apologize, but I think this is something you will want to see.”
Raising his right arm, he offered his device. As I stretched forward, another host of notifications went off on my phone. While a busy man, the incessant hotline blinging alerted me of something amiss. Silently, I prayed no one close to me had died.
Peering down at Biram’s phone, I read the headline.
“OIL BARON AND NOTABLE PARAMOUR SOCIALITE IN PORNOGRAPHIC VIDEO”
Descending from my chest, my heart landed on the floor of the SUV. Forlorn, it lay there thudding at a rapid pace and unable to fucking recover. I skimmed the article once and quickly started from the top again. Reading much slower the second time, I willed the words to be false.
With each digestion of the syntax, they grew heavier, making the reality of them something I both hated but had to accept.
… THE 30-YEAR-OLD SOCIALITE AND ALLEGED BOYFRIEND, 42-YEAR-OLD DUKE STEPFORD, HAVE BEEN MAKING WAVES ACROSS SOCIAL MEDIA, BLOGS, AND NEWS OUTLETS SURROUNDING AN ALLEGED SEX TAPE OF THE COUPLE.
STEPFORD, OWNER OF COLONIAL HOLDINGS AND COLONIAL PIPELINE, AND MILLER, OWNER OF SERENITY SPA AND VIVID GALLERY, CAN [ALLEGEDLY] BE SEEN TOGETHER ENGAGING IN AND INTIMATE ACTS IN WHAT APPEARS TO BE A HOTEL ROOM.
AHEAD OF THE NEWS brEAKING OVER THE INTERNET, NEITHER HAS COME FORWARD TO CONFIRM OR DENY THEIR IDENTITIES IN THE TAPE. PARAMOUR PRESS WILL CONTINUE TO FOLLOW THIS DEVELOPING STORY...
As I scrolled, my phone continued to implode with calls and notifications. A bomb . My shit had transformed into a weapon of mass destruction.
“Mrs. Miller’s condo, boss?” Biram’s assured voice brought me back to the present. His alertness and situational awareness aided my thoughts to catch up in no time.
“She’s probably at the spa.”
I worried about Bee. Had she known? Was she alone? Was she okay? Only two videos of us existed, the one she’d taken from the safe and the one that I’d recently finished editing. Both were supposed to have been safely in my possession. After she’d requested the physical copy, I acquiesced. Still, Serenity wasn’t irresponsible enough to have mishandled or lost the tape. How someone else might have accessed our video was wholly perplexing and lost on me.
A hacker.
Someone with access to the room.
Cleaning staff ?
While the question of who surfaced, none of that shit mattered. The damage was irreversible. Unseeing the video was impossible for those exposed via the worldwide net, but getting to Bee before it destroyed her was at the top of my priority list.
Nodding his understanding, Biram shifted our direction to Paramour Canyon. Seldom did Serenity have service up at the summit of the mountains near the clouds. Only a few areas of the spa allowed for cell reception. Calling to give her a heads-up about our predicament would be futile.
Splintered nerves and sprinting thoughts left me on the edge of my fucking seat as I watched the man I’d replaced Reed with weave through traffic with precision. He was doing his best, yet it wasn’t enough as the five o’clock traffic sought to keep us contained.
“Hurry up, Biram, before I have you pull this bitch over and drive it myself.”
Twenty minutes later, I was hopping out of the back of the Cadillac and rushing inside the spa as if I’d lost every fucking marble in my head. At the welcome desk, my desperation was made apparent. Hands splayed across the counter, heart hammering, chest heaving, I conveyed my stress.
“Serenity! Is she still here?”
Immaculate brows dipped to the center of the receptionist’s head. “She should just be finishing up a class. If you’d like to— Sir !”
With no time to wait, I rushed toward the elevators and up to the third floor, where Serenity’s yoga class was held. As I stepped off the lift, weighted feet carried me to my final destination.
Into another fucking realm I’d rushed once I finally made it to the studio. Her petite frame floated around the room, rolling up yoga mats and sanitizing equipment. 432 Hz music played in the background. This was her oasis when we weren’t abroad. This was her sanctuary. Her comfort. Her peace.
She was blissfully oblivious to the chaos occurring in the outside world around us. About us . Minutes passed before I made my presence known. Before I shattered her safe harbor.
“Bumble Bee.”
Two steps .
Two steps, I took into the room. Blinking several times, Serenity’s eyes blossomed at my presence.
“H–hey. What are you doing here?”
Gasping for air, I beckoned for her to take one of the seats near the wall.
“Is everything okay?” Timidly, she asked, sliding her rear into the nearest chair. We’d been on a fucking roller coaster within the past few months. I thought the ride had ended, but the shit show was just getting started.
The ambivalence coloring Bee’s features informed me she didn’t have a fucking clue. I hated to be the one to share the news but, reconciled it had to me. Better me than social media or someone else.
“Baby…” Pinching my slacks and kneeling in front of her, I grabbed her hands. Cautiously, her sights fell on me.
“Duke, you’re scaring me.”
“Our tape.”
She blinked. Those onyx eyes got that far-off look informing me she’d checked the fuck out. A thousand miles . Her thoughts had fled away so quickly. Her eyes were the last to follow suit.
“What about it?”
“It was leaked.”
Her shoulders fell, as did her face.
“Leaked where— how, Duke?”
“Everywhere. I don’t know how.”
Dragging her phone forward, she tapped it a few times, attempting to pull up any information she could locate about us on the internet. The lengthy nails she sported slowed her movements. I was quicker, shoving my device into her hands. I wasn’t on any form of social media platform, but I had the article discussing our private acts handy.
“ Oh .”
The single syllable left her lips as her eyes raced left and right across the screen to read the article. Puckered lips and blinking eyes fought against the thunder and rain threatening to be freed.
My dick on display was one thing. I could take the heat. But Bee? Seeing her exposed to everyone –near and far– dismantled me. My baby didn’t deserve that. A hard-working woman with a flawless reputation was now being besmirched publicly. Adding to that, her body was a treasure meant for exclusivity. Admittedly, jealousy and rage loomed like a heavy weight over my chest. While misplaced at present, I failed to circumvent such feelings. So many fucking feelings threatened to chew me up and spit me the fuck out.
Guilt,
Shame,
Fear,
Worry ,
The list was fucking endless.
That ass, those titties with the D-hoop rings, wasn’t meant for public consumption. That was solely for me. Everything we’d done in Turkey was now content in an unforgiving cyber world.
“Did you?”
She uttered the two words which should have been cause for offense, but I took none. This was her acting in due diligence. She’d be a fool not to ask.
“No, baby. I’d never do that to us. To you .”
Whoever the culprit, I was prepared to react callously. Bashing their head open against cemented pavement seemed far too fitting a response.
The blowback from such a humiliating event would be immense. Our freakiness would now be shared with her brothers, her friends, clients, her parents— fuck ! My standing was no different, with the value of Colonial’s stocks and partnerships hanging in the balance, but I was more concerned for Bee. I was a man. I could bounce back from this particular type of public ruin. I didn’t know what the fuck this would do to Bee.
She nodded as tears finally made their appearance. Instinctively, my hand rose, and my fingers pushed away the wetness. Unable to articulate the right words, I cloaked her in my arms and allowed her to fall apart.
Shattered, she was. Into a million pieces, I watched her inevitable demise. The poised and demure was now demolished and pitiful. Her pain was my pain, and it was all-consuming and ever-present.
Minutes passed before we moved, and it was only for me to lift her off her feet and carry her to the SUV. With her head tucked into the side of my neck, she said nothing. The vocalization of pained sniffles was the only sound made.
Once we made it inside the SUV, she laid her head in my lap and dozed off. She stayed that way even after we made it back to the penthouse. The stress of public humiliation was a powerful sedative.
Hours later, it was more of the same. Calls erupted from both of our phones. Calls, texts, and emails. Eventually, I turned the devices off for the sake of quiet. We needed that for the sake of peace.
As Bee slept, I spent my time wondering who the hell had gotten ahold of our tape and how. I had my computer picked up by one of Daughtry’s staff to do a sweep for viruses as well.
Returning to the bedroom later that evening, I found Serenity awake but unresponsive. She was in a fucking daze. A fragment of her typical self. Staring at nothing, she held that blank expression.
“Hey…”
Frozen in place, even as I entered, she didn’t move or speak. Her withdrawal came as no surprise. It was to be expected.
“I was considering Thai for dinner. Do you want something different?”
“I’m not hungry,” weakly, she floated the response.
“Baby—”
She fixed me with a glare that threatened an asteroid storm, though it didn’t deter me.
“Let me know when you are hungry. I’ll order the Thai anyway, just in case.”
The following days were more of the same. I entered the room to find her staring off into the distance as silent tears fell from her eyes. Pain bloomed in my chest to witness Serenity in such a defeated state. She became an amalgamation with the fucking furniture. Skipping the shower, she didn’t eat, and she hardly spoke. Withering like an untended rose, I watched her petals fall by the wayside.
Bearing witness was no better. Her wilting sparked my own decline. As I lay in bed beside her, I racked my mind for a solution to our travails. Even if temporary. We couldn’t waste away. Wouldn’t waste away together.
On day five, I picked her up despite her silent protests and lowered her into the tub. Nearby was some food her mother dropped off, and I was prepared to spoon-feed her ass if necessary. The sips of water and toddler bites of the food she’d been consuming over the week had done nothing to keep her nourished. My face lit up like fucking Christmas when she ate half the plate Ms. Miller brought by.
After assisting her with the bath, she returned to the bed, not issuing me a word. The lifelessness behind her irises, paired with the detached way she walked, was frightening. She was barely with us in the land of the living. That night, as I paced the living room, my thoughts stalked behind me. We had to get out of this fucking slump. By any and all means.
Retiring to the bed was no better. Watching her decline placed a heavy burden of guilt on my shoulders. The tape had been my idea. My fucking kink had led us here. Tearing my eyes from the ceiling, I rolled over to my side to face my woman. The dark circles under her eyes and the puffiness of her face were unbecoming. I couldn’t take it. Refused to accept it. Not my Bumble Bee.
“We could leave. Go to some other country until things settle. Get away from all this bullshit like we always do.”
The lifelessness in her eyes was terrifying. She blinked but didn’t issue an expression or a response. My thoughts made haste, as did my words, following through with the idea.
“I was thinking Japan. The countryside outside of Tokyo. Somewhere quiet. Not too crowded. How does that sound?”
“Okay.”
It was the first sound she’d made in days. Those two syllables were sweeter than fucking honey. Inside, I was rejoicing.
Defeat amplified her voice in place of excitement. We could have been going to a dirt hut, and she probably wouldn’t have given a fuck. Too deep in the darkness of her mind, she cordoned off the ill thoughts from me. That was how we operated under stress. Compartmentalize and keep that shit moving. Only in this instance, my baby wasn’t moving. Her despondency was contagious and disheartening. I knew the burden was heavy. I shared it, too.
“Bee?”
Again, I called out to her. Newly manufactured insecurities were sprouting in the fertile synapses of my mind.
“Yeah, Duke?”
“Do you trust me?”
There was silence. Uncomfortable silence made it difficult to discern if it was intended to be an answer or not. I swallowed a lump of fear seasoned with discomfort, praying the two didn’t surface again in regard to us.
“I do.”
While raspy, her angelic voice chased away all my doubts. Helplessly, I strained my ears and shifted my limbs to tune in to the sound of it. I hadn’t heard her speak in days. Propped on my elbow, I held my head up, looking in her direction.
“I just—I’m having a difficult time wrapping my head around it all. I’m so fucking ashamed, Duke.”
“Baby…” Cementing my eyes to hers before I completed my thought was essential. I needed her to feel my authenticity. To believe my words absent a shadow of doubt. Finally, she looked at me. Her eyes were less frightening. More hopeful. But still bleak.
“I don’t know who’s responsible, but I promise you that I’m going to get to the bottom of it. And whoever is responsible is going to fucking pay miserably.”
I meant every word.
“I don’t want revenge. I just—” She sighed. “I wish I could go back in time and never record that stupid ass video.”
The density of tension floated above us. Around us. Between us. Silence, so pervasive, it caused me to second guess if she were still awake, laid atop that heaviness. The weight of a planet loomed. A heaviness we both felt. With vehemence, I wished I could carry it all. We didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve this.
“Bee?”
“Hmm?”
“Come ‘ere.”
She was on the far end of the California King bed. I was somewhere off the middle. I needed her next to me. Needed her close. Needed her softness. Her intoxicating peachy ass scent despite things not being so peachy.
Unhesitating, she scooted closer, finally relaxing on the side of my chest. Absent a further thought, I wrapped my arms around her.
“I missed this,” she confessed.
“What?”
“Laying with you like this.”
“I’ve been here every night. I’ll be here every night.”
“I haven’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I countered, stroking the side of her arm. “I don’t expect you to always give a hundred percent. There’ll be days I can’t give a hundred percent. There’ll be days when I can only do sixty, and maybe on those days, you can only do twenty. Adding that shit together sounds like eighty to me. That’s close enough to a hundred. What matters is our ability to hold each other up when either of us is down.”
The AC kicked on, prompting her skin to litter with goosebumps. I dragged the comforter at the edge of the bed over us both. She snuggled in close.
“I’d never do anything to hurt you. I love you. When I say that shit, I mean it. Adding to that fact is how nonsensical of a position I’d be placing myself in by hurting you,” I explained.
I needed her to understand that with every fiber of her existence. The turn of events could prompt a damning disruption in our relationship. We’d ridden the rocky road, and a nigga wasn’t prepared to let go.
“According to Ramsay, there’s only one reason why I’m still breathing, and that’s because I’m innocent,” trying to lighten the mood, I joked.
Serenity’s head lifted from my chest. It was the first intentional show of energy she’d had in days. “My dad threatened you?”
“You already know.”
“That’s unacceptable, Duke. You shouldn’t be afraid to—”
“To hurt you? Yes, the fuck I should be, Serenity. Threat or no threat, the thought of breaking you puts the fear of God in me. You’re a beautiful, magnificent, and strong vessel, but a vessel nonetheless. Vessels are delicate. Something to be handled with care. Something to be cherished and loved on gently. Fear should absolutely be the first and foremost emotion when it comes to hurting you, regardless of a fucking threat.”
“You get to talking like that, and it makes me melt.”
Tilting her head upward, I connected with her lips. “I’m not trying to make you melt. I’m just speaking facts.”
“That’s wonderful, but now I need a distraction.”
“What might that be?”
“You… inside me. I want to be weightless. I want to float. Take my mind off of it, Duke. Like only you can.”
So, I did. I climbed inside my woman and told her how magnificent she was, how heavenly she felt, how she was worthy of respect and admiration—not this bullshit we were being dealt.
Our kisses were feverish, steamy, and sweet before they transformed into savage-like, spicy, and wicked. Love bites . Some of them soft, but many were hostile—daring to break the skin and sure to leave a mark. An expression of our rage. An expression of our fire. Ire married to desire.
Sliding lower, I licked her folds, savoring her taste and texture like a ripened peach. So slippery. So sweet. She was my favorite delicacy.
And then I slid inside. I stroked her like she was the best thing to happen to me because she was. I stroked her long and sweet. Balls deep, I slid in and out of that pussy. With her leg hooked around my arms, I touched the parts of her I seldom felt. I entered her temple, issuing all the praise. All the kisses. All the whispers to make it better. And she held me tight. Her walls gripped me even tighter. Every inch conformed to my mass as if made for me.
She was made for me. Mine . Not the world’s. Me and only me.
Her arms cloaked my head as she rode me. Heat formed from the friction as she ground her hips into me. She pressed her pretty titties into my face while I tried to stroke her to a different place. Wrapped in my arms, she came hard and cried even harder. Bittersweet, it was, as passion took over, but as she exploded, she cried a dozen more tears. Tears I thumbed and lapped away while promising our shit would be okay. She held me tight while begging me to make it right in our world.
I would.
Already, five teams of cybersecurity companies had been swiping the internet of all traces of our tape. From the start of its distribution across the web, they’d been working to not only remove it but also retrace the footsteps of all parties responsible for sharing it.
“Anything, baby. I’ll do anything and everything to make it go away.”
As I spoke, people were being tracked down and notified of lawsuits and possible criminal time for resharing our content.
As the tears raced down her face, I thumbed them away. I stroked her tongue against mine. Stroked her walls. Stroked her nipples with the bumble bee nipple rings. My hands were wild, caressing and touching every inch of her body she’d granted me access. My tongue was even wilder, trying to touch every inch of her body.
Anguished, amorous, and passionate, she gave it over to me. Her saturnine mood. Her intensity. Her melancholy. I relished it all, drinking from her fountain of honey.
Gently, I sucked her clit, sliding my fingers inside and summoning more pleasure from her G-spot. My tongue was slow and calm with the slightest bit of aggression against her pearl. Again, she came, squirting and making a mess of my face.
“We’ll get past this, Queen Bee.” Holding her close while absently stroking her back, I made the vow.
“You promise?”
“Trust me.”