question or a thought, but a certainty. We would have the conversation that night, and that was the end of it.
“Fine,” I snapped and turned to leave.
“The W,” he called behind me.
Fuck.
That was where it all began, and now we were going back to the scene of the crime. This is what got me in trouble in the first place.
Once the happy couple left the scene, so did we. The caterers, musicians, and venue were taken care of, meaning my maid of honor duties were over. After signaling my driver, he pulled up just as Jacquez’ vehicle pulled off. He made no small chat, just got in his car once the valet pulled it up front and drove off. The unspoken expectation was for me to get my ass to the W. Not tomorrow, not in an hour, but right fucking now.
I could be a bad ass, but since I’d been dodging his ass for the past two months, it was time to pay the piper. Jacquez was the damn piper.
Chapter Two
Jacquez Costa
Finally.
Fucking, finally.
Nobody understood how bad it was having a taste of her for one night and being plagued with trying to figure out how to get another. Not only was my life and business in London, I had major projects and collaborations that did not even allow me the time to focus on connecting with her. Besides my daily emails, calls and texts, I had no time to hop on my jet to surprise her. The wedding of my best mate was the perfect time. The only time, because the bombshell she’d dropped on me thirty days ago was one that I could not forget, nor would I. So I bided my time. We would get to the bottom of this.
Whether she wanted to or not.
Her driver dropped her off in front of the hotel as I stood in the main lobby.
Waiting.
Like I had been for the past few months. This was the time causing the energy coursing through my body kept me on edge. I had no idea if I looked as mad as I was, but she would know.
Silently, Sheryl followed me to the elevator, then to the suite that I had secured for us. We’d managed to ignore each other at rehearsal and at the dinner, but the wedding was the final straw. It was my last day in the States.
Once we were both over the threshold, I closed the door and stared at her. The woman scoffed, threw her purse on the loveseat, and strutted to the wet bar. Halfway there, she must have remembered and turned to sit on the couch.
“Let’s hash this out then,” Sheryl urged.
It was my turn to go to the wet bar and pour two fingers of whiskey. Then I joined her on the couch and took a swig.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
“This is not the business that needs to be sorted.” She gave me a bored look.
“It’s very much the business, Sheryl,” I said with a barely tamed, but deliberate pace, because this routine was asinine. “Now indulge me.”
“There was nothing to discuss.” She looked me in my eyes as if she had nothing to be sorry about.
“The fact that you and I conceived a child in that very room”—I punched my fingers towards the bedroom—“then you slunk your ass out in the middle of the night and did not contact me until a month later, sharing that you were pregnant and then ignored me before and after the pregnancy alert. If you don’t think that is something to discuss, you are clearly mistaken.”
She stared at me but said nothing, so I moved closer toward her and said, “Do you want to talk before or after we fuck?”
“Excuse me?” she gasped as if she were shocked, but those eyes bore all truths. “I don’t do seconds.”
She was about to shift in her seat, but I was already in her vicinity as I hovered over her with my arms on the back of the couch next to her shoulders. Sheryl's head looked up with her mouth slightly open, and that was when I took advantage and went in for the kiss. The woman didn’t fight me. No, instead she pushed her talons through my hair to pull me closer.
Fuck, this is why she never left my mind. The woman was wild. She owned every aspect of who she was, what she wanted, and what she could do. I loved that. No,