CHAPTER 24.

In less than a week, Gavin called Misty with a lead. "There's this software guy named Jeffrey Backus; he has a thing about aging-"

"I never said I had access to the fountain of youth; I said I could cure diseases and s.h.i.t," Misty hissed.

"His disease is age-related. He has rheumatoid arthritis. His hands are horribly misshapen to the point where he can't play golf anymore. He's had surgery on one of his hands, but it's still infirm and causes him a great deal of pain. Not to mention embarra.s.sment. He wears gloves to hide the deformity."

"A pair of f.u.c.ked-up hands should be a piece of cake to heal, but don't tell him I said that. I'm gonna need a million upfront to lay hands on dude."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable asking him for money before he's been, uh, treated."

"Trust me, if he wants to play golf bad enough, he'll come up off that cash. Two million is like two hundred to a billionaire. Call me back when you've made the arrangements. Tell him he can come to a hotel here in Philly or he can fly me and my people to his location. It's his choice."

"Your people?"

"Yes, I get fatigued if I'm on my feet too long, and I need my nurse with me. I also need you to handle the money transaction, and I need a bodyguard to look out for me. I'll never travel without one ever again. If I'd had a bodyguard with me the night I was a.s.saulted, the punk who tried to kill me wouldn't have been able to get to me. But you know what they say: live and learn."

"It's politically incorrect to use the word punk," Gavin said dryly.

"I don't care about being politically incorrect. By the way, when you talk to the software guy, make it clear that I don't want a commercial flight; tell him I require a private jet."

"I'm feeling more like an a.s.sistant than a director of life enrichment," Gavin complained.

"Whatever. Handle the details and call me back."

Misty hung up, feeling satisfied and superior. She was making it abundantly clear to Gavin that she didn't feel indebted to him in the least. He could stop thinking of her as his charity case now that he was working for her. Hopefully, he wouldn't meet his brutal demise before she earned her first billion.

Brick was avoiding Misty again. On his side of the bed, he had his back to her and was sleeping so close to the edge, it was a wonder he didn't fall on the floor. Misty was h.o.r.n.y as h.e.l.l. It seemed like her coochie was vibrating, sending off waves of need in Brick's direction, but he was stubbornly ignoring the signals.

Ever since she'd become unparalyzed, her s.e.x drive was amped up, as if trying to make up for all the time she'd gone without s.e.x.

"Brick," she murmured, tapping him on the shoulder.

"What?" he said grumpily.

"I need you."

"Nah, I'm not feeling you like that."

"This isn't working," she said with a sigh.

He sat up, his back propped against the leather headboard. "I know the way I'm acting isn't fair to you, but I can't fake feelings, Misty. Something is off between us. It's not your fault. It's on me. When you came out of the coma, I was so relieved that you made it. I mistook that feeling for love. To be honest, I love you in the purest sense-like family, but not as my woman. That kind of love died a long time ago."

"Well, thanks for finally letting me know," Misty said, throwing the covers off of her. "I'm leaving; going to get a hotel room until I can find my own place."

"You don't have to leave, Misty. I'll go."

Misty laughed and the sound held a bitter ring. "Please. You're living from paycheck to paycheck; you can't afford to go anywhere. Keep this dump. I'm moving on to bigger and better things." She clicked the bedside lamp on, got out of bed, and went to the closet to pick out something to wear.

"It's after midnight, Misty. Why don't you wait until morning?"

"Don't try to act like you care."

"I don't want anything to happen to you. Look, I'm sorry it turned out like this, but don't run out of here in the middle of the night because you're mad. It shouldn't be like that between us." Brick got up and grasped Misty's wrist. "I don't blame you for wanting to leave, but let's discuss it, first. I need to know where you're going, so I can be sure you're all right."

Misty yanked her hand away from Brick. "You don't get to know my whereabouts, Brick; it doesn't work like that. You may not want me, but I guarantee you, a hundred other m.u.t.h.af.u.c.kas will be lining up to get some of this."

"I know, Misty. Like I said, it's not you, it's me."

"Don't use that tired-a.s.s line on me; it's insulting and degrading!" Indignant, Misty placed a hand on her hip. She angrily walked to the closet and slipped into a pair of jeans that still had the tag dangling on the side. The top she selected also bore a sales tag. In fact, everything in the closet was brand-new. "I don't have any luggage, so I'll be back tomorrow to pack up my s.h.i.t. You can keep the furniture. Consider it a goodbye present."

"No, that's your furniture that your friend bought for you. I'll keep it here until you get a place of your own. I'll do whatever I can to make sure you're straight."

Misty smirked. "I don't need your help. You don't get it, do you? I don't need this bulls.h.i.t furniture and I don't need your little bit of money. I'm about to become a billionaire, baby. You have no idea of the kinds of moves I'm making."

Brick shrugged. "All I can say is, I wish you well, Misty. That's from the heart."

"Yeah, whatever. All I can say is go to h.e.l.l," Misty said spitefully as she picked up her phone to call a cab.

With a few of her clothes and personal items stuffed in a large LV bag, Misty sat on the couch in the darkness, waiting for the cab to arrive. Bitter tears rolled down her cheeks. Brick had no idea how badly he'd hurt her, and no idea that there were severe consequences for breaking her heart.

The cab dropped her off at the hotel and after Misty went to her suite, she munched on a banana from the complimentary fruit basket. When it occurred to her that she needed s.e.xual relief, and not something to eat, she furiously hurled the banana against a wall. She had a big, comfortable bed in her room and no one to help steam up the sheets. She could call Audrey and ask her to come over and give her some head, but getting a tongue-job would not satisfy her cravings tonight.

She needed some d.i.c.k. Hard-hitting, deep-penetrating d.i.c.k with sustained strokes and staying power. d.a.m.n, she wished she knew how to get in touch with Troy. That ashy m.u.t.h.af.u.c.ka with his elongated d.i.c.k always gave her a thorough workout in bed. Unfortunately, she had no way to contact him.

Suddenly, her thoughts shifted to David, the janitor from the hospital. He didn't have a lot of personality and seemed a little timid, but she would bet money that he was a beast in bed. David had made it clear he wasn't feeling her when she was a patient, but she had no doubt he'd fall hard for her now that her image had been greatly improved.

Recalling that he'd put his number in her phone, Misty pulled up her contact list and tapped on his name. He answered sleepily on the fourth ring.

"Hi, David. This is Misty. Remember me? I was the patient who gave you a reading."

"Misty? Oh, yeah. What's going on?" he asked groggily.

"I need to see you about something I saw."

"You saw something about me?" he whispered in the phone.

"Yes, I did, but I can't talk about it over the phone. I'm at the Omni Hotel on Chestnut Street."

"Downtown?"

"Yeah, Fourth and Chestnut. I'm in room twelve-zero-seven. Have the front desk call me when you get here."

David didn't say anything for a few moments, and Misty heard a woman, most likely his cheating wife, speaking in an annoyed voice in the background.

"I'm not going to be able to make it. It's pretty late, and-"

"You need to hear what I have to tell you about your future," Misty said, cutting him off. She wasn't about to allow his b.i.t.c.h of a wife to stand in the way of her getting some d.i.c.k. "It's urgent, David. I'll be waiting."

CHAPTER 25.

"I thought you'd be in a wheelchair," David said, peering at Misty.

"Surprise," Misty said with a smirk.

"I'm confused; I thought you were paralyzed."

"That was a temporary condition. I'm good, now."

David observed her closely. "Your face..." His words trailed off. "You look like a totally different person. And you're so pretty."

"I had a little nip and tuck here and there to get my looks back. Glad you approve," she said nonchalantly. Misty's eyes roamed from his close-cropped haircut down to his white Nikes. "You look a lot different, too," she acknowledged.

"Yeah, I'm out of my work uniform," he said, gesturing toward his clothes with his eyes lowered bashfully.

Sitting on the bed, Misty smiled invitingly. David's shyness was attractive, and his s.e.x appeal was much more apparent with him dressed in jeans and a close-fitting shirt that accentuated his slim but athletic build.

Instead of sitting in the chair opposite Misty, David stood by the window in her room, slouched against the heating and cooling unit, and twisting his wedding ring around his finger in anxious circles. "What did you want to discuss?"

Misty began to recite the story she'd prepared in advance. "I had another vision, but this time it lasted longer. I want to make sure that my vision is correct."

"You want to read me again?"

"Yes," she said, rising from the bed and approaching him with her arm extended. She touched his hand and saw a different set of clips of his life. The life-movie paused at key moments, like when he moved from his mother's house and went to live with his dad and stepmother. Misty sensed that David dreaded having to live with his father, but his mother thought he needed a male influence.

The scene that revealed his future remained the same, with David holding a gun against his wife's lover's head.

Unwilling to spoil their evening together with bad news, Misty made up a future that deviated from what she had originally told him. "So, uh, I saw an extended version of your future, and this time I heard the dude with the dreads pleading for his life. You had a change of heart and took your finger off the trigger and lowered the gun. You were angry, cursing, and threatened him, but you didn't harm him. I called you tonight because I thought it was important for you to have that information. You know, so you could stop worrying about being a murderer."

"And what about my marriage. Does it end?"

"I got the feeling you forgave your wife and that the two of you will be able to work things out," she said, telling him more of what he wanted to hear.

David dropped his head in relief. "I hope so," he whispered. "Knowing what she's been up to, but keeping it to myself is killing me."

"You haven't said a word to her about her affair?" Misty asked, incredulous.

He shook his head. "I've been acting like everything is all right, hoping if I don't say anything, my wife will come to her senses and keep our family together by ending things with dude." David dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as if disgusted by his weakness.

Seizing the moment, Misty consoled him by caressing his forearm and murmuring, "It'll be all right." She moved closer. "You need a hug," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his lean and muscular back. She slipped her hands beneath his shirt, her palms traveling up his smooth, bare flesh. He flinched and gave a deep intake of breath when she scratched his skin lightly, teasingly.

His mouth glided down the side of her neck. "I want you, but I shouldn't. It's not right," he whispered and then pressed his lips against hers. His tongue probed and then slid along hers.

Misty could feel his erection straining against his fly as it sought release. Taking the initiative, she unzipped his jeans and slipped her hand inside. David made feeble protests, but Misty ignored him, capturing his d.i.c.k, taking it out of his pants, and then openly admiring it. It sort of reminded her of her ex-lover, Troy's long d.i.c.k, only thicker and without the layer of ash.

She caressed it and felt a shiver of excitement running up her spine. "I bet you know how to use this thing, don't you, baby?" Misty looked up at David and smiled. "It looks tasty, but I'm not gonna suck it."

"Why not?" he asked in a quavering voice.

"It's been a long time since I sucked a d.i.c.k and I don't trust myself. I might f.u.c.k around and try to eat the whole thing," she said with laughter.

"Suck it, please," he begged.

"Nah. My p.u.s.s.y is spazzin' out; you gotta take care of it. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, I can take care of that p.u.s.s.y for you," he mumbled in a low, husky voice as he moved Misty toward the bed. He pulled his jeans and briefs down and allowed them to pool around his ankles, and then sat on the edge of the bed. Misty kicked off her jeans and climbed on his lap, gripping his length and guiding it to the opening of her p.u.s.s.y. Squatting down, she took him in fully. She took him in so deeply, she could have sworn she saw stars. Her muscles tightened around him and he began to lift off the bed with each harsh thrust.

He was f.u.c.king with wild abandon, giving her such forceful thrusts, she was bouncing up and down so vigorously, she had to wrap her arms tightly around his neck to keep from being thrown off his lap.

"This is what I'm talking about," she murmured with her face buried in the s.p.a.ce between his neck and collarbone. Brick had given her an uninspired and lackl.u.s.ter s.e.xual performance, but David wasn't holding back, he was giving her exactly what she needed. When he hit a particularly sensitive area, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to keep from crying out and calling for Jesus.

He must have enjoyed having his neck bitten because he went berserk, breathing heavily, bucking and f.u.c.king like an animal out of the wild. Since he seemed to like it, Misty decided to put her expensive dental work to good use, biting him over and over on his neck, his shoulder, and his back. The harder she bit, the harder and faster he f.u.c.ked.

Finally, Misty felt a wonderfully familiar pressure in her loins and realized it wouldn't be long before she climaxed. Wanting to thoroughly enjoy the moment, she whispered for David to slow down, which he did. Getting stroked at a leisurely pace, she wrapped her legs around his back and with her coochie stretched wide, she instantly exploded in ecstasy and David shot a load two seconds later. She tumbled off him, and collapsed on her side. Gazing up at him, she noticed that one side of David's upper body was covered with bite marks.

She stifled a giggle, wondering how he'd explain the teeth indentations to his wife.

They f.u.c.ked in various positions and all over the hotel room until the sun came up, and Misty still hadn't had enough. Apparently, David hadn't either; he required only minimal coercion to call in sick at his job. With the entire day to themselves, Misty and David ordered room service, took naps, and f.u.c.ked some more. At six in the evening, with her s.e.x craving finally satisfied, she encouraged David to go home to his wife.

"Can I see you again?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair and kissing her cheek and earlobe.

It was apparent that David couldn't get enough of her, which was exactly how Misty wanted him to be, but she'd had enough of him for one day. "I don't want to interfere with your marriage, so go on home and patch things up with wifey. She's probably furious that you stayed out all night," she said, making up an excuse to get rid of him.

"With all the dirt my wife's been doing, I don't care how she feels. I can do whatever I want."

"But for the sake of your child, you should try to make it work," Misty said, sounding compa.s.sionate, even though she didn't give a d.a.m.n about his marriage or his kid.

"There's such a strong connection between us; I don't want to leave. I didn't expect to fall for you the way I have, but now that it's happened, I don't feel I should have to apologize. Not after the way my wife has been doing me."