Page 31

Stephon

Three Months Later

I was ready to see my wife on the beach, covered in that white sand I promised her. We were scheduled to be on the plane in five hours to start our honeymoon officially. This time, we were set to fly private. She wanted to go to Fiji, so I rented a private villa for the week. I planned to turn her every which way but loose the moment her toes hit the sand.

We had just wrapped up the remodel on my gym locations and relaunched the website. Jourdan had also updated the websites of my security firm and coffee shop. She said that they were both shitty and weren’t making me a dime. Those were her exact words. I wasn’t going to argue; I let her do her thing.

“Jourdan, where you at, Baby?” I yelled throughout the house from the top of the stairs until she answered .

“I’m in the office, " she yelled back. I came downstairs and entered the office to find her at my desk. Jourdan officially moved all her things the week after we got married. I didn’t give her too much of a choice; in no scenario was I ever sleeping alone. After that ring went on her finger, her life was mine, and vice versa. She’d decided to keep the house, hoping Brice would move into it.

“What are you doing in here anyway?” I asked as I reached out my hand to pull her up. I gripped her chin and brought her face to mine as I leaned down and kissed her. It only took a moment for us to get hot and heavy. I broke away from the kiss, giving her a few more pecks before I pulled her down into my lap. I rested my hand on her stomach as she sat.

“I was just in here looking through your old photo albums. I only need to see one picture of you in a football uniform from behind.”

“I’m beginning to think that you might have a kink or obsession with that,” I said and laughed.

“Can you put some on for me?” She looked at me in excitement. I shook my head at her fetish, but eventually nodded yes. I would give her whatever she asked for. She flipped through the album until she came across a picture of me and the woman I had dated before her.

Aww shit!

She hung on the page for a few minutes, studying the image before flipping to the next.

Whew!

Then she flipped the page right back .

“Who is she?”

“That’s my ex-girlfriend Eve,” I said.

“Hmph.”

“Jourdan,” I said, laughing.

“What? I just asked you what her name was. That’s it.”

“Jourdan Rockwell. Leave that woman alone. I don’t want nobody but you, Baby.” I took the book, closed it, and set it aside. The last thing I needed was for Jourdan to go on another mission, as she called them, to bother a woman I hadn’t thought about in years. And I knew she would do it. Because so would I. We were overly possessive of each other.

“Let’s run upstairs real quick.” I bent her head to the side and began to trace my tongue in circles around her neck. Next, my hands found a place between her legs. I pushed her panties to the side and dipped two fingers inside her pussy underneath the skirt she wore. My other hand grabbed the underside of her breast and flicked my finger across her nipple. It pebbled under the fabric of her t-shirt.

“What’s this?” she asked as I continued to coax an orgasm from her. I saw she was looking at the folder with all the information I’d compiled on Miller. I must have thrown it in with the albums when I brought it home. Now I was pissed that I’d even brought it home at all.

Jourdan sat up and began going through the file.

“Baby, I’m about two seconds from bending you over this desk.” I didn’t care how long she looked at it that nigga was dead, and he wasn’t coming back. I was glad it was all over, and I could give her and her brother the closure they needed to move on.

I lifted her and bent her over the desk, lifting her skirt and pulling her panties down her legs. That day, I showed her the folder in my office; she hadn’t thumbed through it thoroughly. In the back were a series of photos I’d dug up from his past that I couldn’t put faces to. The very last photo in the folder Jourdan stopped on. She removed the picture, then stood from my grasp, closing the folder. She tilted her head to the side, studying the picture. It was of Miller. He wasn’t alone in the picture. He was with a woman and a newborn infant.

“Stephon,” she whispered in a non-sensual tone I wasn’t expecting.

“Jourdan, what’s wrong?” I asked. I could feel her body tensing as I stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. I didn’t like it. If something was wrong, I wanted to fix it immediately. That quickly, I felt myself going to that dark place that would end in bloodshed for anyone who was the cause of her unrest.

“We need to go to LA…Tonight.”

“Baby, talk. Now!” I growled out.

“Miller wasn’t the only person involved in my father’s death. I know the people in this picture. It’s…

To be continued…