Warning: The content in The R.L. Mathewson Chronicles is intended for readers 18 years and older.
The R.L. Mathewson Chronicles
A Neighbor from Hell Betrayal
“I-I-I can’t,” Zoe choked out, swallowing nervously as she took an unsteady step back. “I just can’t.”
“Just a small box,” Amanda said with an encouraging smile as she pulled out another sheet of brownies from the display case and placed it on the counter where Zoe could see the buttercream frosting topping in all its glory.
“B-but I’m on a diet,” she said weakly as Amanda pulled out another sheet of fudge brownies, this one covered in a rich fudge frosting.
Amanda frowned for a second before she finally shrugged and pulled out another delicious tray of brownies, this one with a cream cheese topping that had Zoe licking her lips. “Then give them to your husband,” Amanda said, grabbing a white bakery box from beneath the counter as though what she was suggesting was even remotely possible.
If her husband, or any Bradford for that matter, found out about this bakery they would terrify this sweet woman, get themselves banned and of course ruin her new bookkeeping business. She had ten clients right now, but if her husband or one of his relatives found out about this place and terrorized this woman with their insatiable appetites, she’d probably lose them all and she couldn’t let that happen.
She loved running her own business. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be her own boss, call the shots, have the freedom to pick her own clients and make her own hours and she’d do anything to protect that freedom. Even keep this bakery that served over two hundred different fresh baked desserts a secret from her husband, a man that she loved more than anything.
“There,” Amanda said with a satisfied smile as she carefully closed the lid on the box filled with eight, yes, she’d counted them, oversized gourmet brownies. “I hope your husband enjoys them,” she said with that same damn pleased smile as she held out the box to her expectantly.
Knowing that she couldn’t afford to insult her newest client, Zoe forced a smile on her face as she accepted the box filled with delicious looking baked goods that would no doubt add ten pounds to her ass, because there was no way that she could force herself to throw such delicious looking morsels away. If she did and Trevor, or any Bradford for that matter, found out that she’d not only held the existence and location of this bakery a secret from them, but also wasted what was probably five pounds of brownies, they would make her life a living hell with all their damn pouting and drama.
“Thank you,” she said, nearly whimpering when the scent of the fresh baked brownies that she held in her hands teased her senses.
Amanda waved it off. “It’s the least that I can do after you figured out that I was overpaying my supplier.”
“I’m sure that you would have figured it out soon,” she felt compelled to say even though she doubted that Amanda would have realized that the company was charging her twenty percent more than they should have since the invoices that they gave her were seriously screwed up and confusing for anyone without a love of numbers.
Amanda simply laughed it off. “I hope your husband enjoys the brownies,” she said as she started the process of returning the brownies to the display case as Zoe tried to tell herself that this wasn’t going to end with another restraining order and a featured story on the eleven o’clock news, but she knew that she was hoping for the impossible.
“Sweetheart?” he said a little too loudly before he realized what time it was.
“Shit,” he whispered softly with a wince as he closed the front door behind him, hoping that he hadn’t woken up his wife and children.
It was after one in the morning and he was fucking exhausted. He should have been home hours ago, but he got stuck working an extra four hours to make sure that the charity house they’d been working on, Blanket House, was ready to open its doors on time. He would have been home in time for a late dinner with his wife, but halfway home he received a call from the police about another one of his cousins scaring the shit out of a delivery boy, who made the mistake of forgetting half their order. After that was settled and the delivery boy was paid off, he’d been more than ready to head home to a quiet night with his wife, but that’s when he’d spotted Danny as the dumb bastard tried to walk up the stairs instead of using his wheelchair and the damn ramp that they’d built for him.
Three hours, in the emergency room and a fist fight with the cousins that had seriously fucked up by not keeping an eye on Danny, later and he was finally home and not a moment too soon. He was starving, tired and all he wanted to do was to devour the pot roast that his wife had saved him, curl up behind her in bed and pass out. He just needed some-
“What the hell?” he said, sniffing the air and nearly groaning when he caught the scent of freshly baked brownies.
Haley must have sent over brownies, he realized, doing a quick search of the kitchen only to discover that the pot roast that Zoe left for him in the fridge was a sickly green color and there wasn’t a single crumb of brownies to be found.
Frowning, he sniffed the air again to make sure that it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part and sure enough, he caught the faint scent of fudge brownies. He checked the trash for crumbs or any evidence that there had been brownies in the house today, but the only thing he found was the remains of the rest of the green pot roast. Maybe the kids had devoured the brownies, but no, they knew better than that.
Sniffing again, he walked into the living room, noting the stronger brownie scent, which weird as hell since Zoe didn’t allow food outside the kitchen. Wondering if his Bradford senses were failing him at such a young age, he followed the scent all the way up to the second floor where it ended in front of his bedroom door, his closed bedroom door.
Since they only closed their door when they had sex, Trevor knew something was up. He reached for the doorknob when he heard what sounded like a moan of ecstasy.
“Oh, god yes!” he heard his wife moan softly. “Mmmm, that is so goooooood!”
His eyes narrowed as her moans of pleasure become louder and he knew, just knew that his wife had just betrayed him. Forcing himself to relax, other than a clenched jaw, he opened the door and shoved it open. The startled gasp and the way that she rushed to wipe her mouth only confirmed his suspicions that his wife, the woman that he loved and adored had committed the ultimate betrayal.
She was sneaking food behind his back.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Trevor asked as he stepped into the room, looking pissed even though he sounded calm.
She quickly forced herself to swallow the last bite of that delicious brownie, hoping that he didn’t notice the action even as she forced a welcoming smile on her face. “Wrong? No! Why would something be wrong?” she asked a little too quickly as she tried to calm her damn nerves.
“I see,” Trevor said, shutting the door behind him as he glanced around the room. “Why are you still awake?”
“I was waiting up for you,” she said, deciding that was as good a lie as any since she’d actually gone to bed three hours ago only to be woken up ten minutes ago with an uncontrollable craving for one of those delicious brownies.
She’d known that she was risking getting caught, but she hadn’t been able to help it. Since she came home with them over ten hours ago she’d been fighting the urge to try one until finally, she didn’t have the strength to fight it any longer. After she’d double-checked to make sure that Trevor was home and that the kids and dogs were still asleep, she’d crept back into their bedroom and finally gave in and holy hell, had it been worth the risk of the Bradford wrath.
Well, at least she’d thought so at the time, but now that she was faced with a suspicious looking Bradford she wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t know about the brownies…..could he?
No, it was impossible. She’d been extremely careful, making sure not to linger for too long in the kitchen or the rest of the house on the way to their room. There was no evidence of the brownies existence, no purchase receipt, crumb or even a napkin with brownie smudges anywhere in the house. He must still be pissed about having to deal with his cousin’s getting the Bradfords on yet another restaurant’s banned list.
“Join me for a shower?” he said, gesturing towards the bathroom with a tilt of his head.
Realizing that he was presenting her with a chance to get rid of the evidence, she practically ran to the bathroom. “A shower sounds fantastic!” she said, giving him a tight-lipped smile as she rushed to the bathroom, terrified that he’d smell the brownie on her breath.
She didn’t bother wasting precious seconds shutting the door behind her. Instead, she headed straight for the bathroom sink, squeezed an insane amount of toothpaste on her toothbrush and started scrubbing and kept scrubbing until long after Trevor had stripped naked and stepped into the shower. That was followed by a two-minute mouthwash gargle and two cups of water just to make sure that all the evidence had been washed away.
Once she was sure that she was safe, she pulled off her nightgown and stuffed it in the bottom of the clothes hamper. Then for good measure, she picked up his dirty work clothes and shoved them inside as well. Satisfied that there was nothing left to find, she stepped into the shower stall, ready to help scrub her husband clean when the unthinkable happened.
Trevor pulled her close, leaned down and pulled her nipple into his mouth and suckled with a load groan that was followed by her moan. Before she could reach up and thread her fingers through his hair to keep him there, he stood up, making a show of licking his lips as he glared accusingly down at her.
“Double chocolate fudge brownie with extra fudge frosting,” he practically growled and just like that, she knew that she was in deep shit.
She didn’t even get the chance to turn and make a run for it. He had her in his arms and was heading for the bedroom before the first startled squeak left her lips.
“Where are they?” he demanded as he dropped her wet ass on the bed.
Too frightened to answer, she did the next best thing, she turned and tried to make a run for it, but he had her pinned to the bed and was on top of her barely a second later.
“The brownies, Zoe, where are the brownies?” he whispered in her ear just as she registered the very large erection cushioned between her cheeks.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, knowing that she’d been caught, but still determined to keep those delicious brownies and her client protected.
“Wrong answer,” Trevor said with a chuckle as he grabbed her hands and pulled them up, over her head and pinned them to the bed. “Try again.”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, because he’d chosen that moment to grind against her bottom. Her eyes closed as she licked her lips. She tried to ignore what he was doing, but it was impossible with the way that he made sure that the tip of his erection teased her in just the right spot every time he pulled back.
“We both know that I’ll find them eventually, Zoe, so you might as well just tell me where they are,” he said, pressing a kiss against her neck as he pulled back just as he used his knees to force her legs apart. “Tell me where the brownies are, sweetheart,” he said in his most seductive voice.
‘T-there aren’t any brownies,” she said, trying one last time to save the sweet morsels.
“Are you sure?” he asked, placing the head of his erection right where she needed it.
“No?” she said, not really able to focus as she tried to shift back and force him to enter her, but the stubborn bastard only chuckled as he moved back.
“I know they’re in the closet, Zoe. I can smell them,” he practically purred in her ear and if he hadn’t been a Bradford, that would’ve truly frightened her. “Tell me where you hid them and I’ll give you what you want,” he said, pressing a kiss against the shell of her ear as he pushed the tip inside, but didn’t go any further. “Tell me.”
“I-If I tell you,” she said, knowing that she would never get to that closet before him, “will you promise not to ask where I got them from?”
She felt him go still above her and for a moment she feared that she’d overplayed her hand, but when she felt him slowly slide inside, she knew that she had him. “Will you keep me well supplied?”
“Yes,” she said, damn near sighing with relief since the forty percent discount Amanda promised her was going to save her quite a bit of money.
She gasped as he slid the rest of the way inside her. “Then I promise not to ask you where you’re getting them from.”
“They’re in the kids’ old diaper bag in the bottom of the closet.” She barely got the last word out before she suddenly found her hands free and felt him leave her. A split second later she heard the closet door bang open, the sound of rummaging and barely a second after that, he was back on the bed, sitting up next to her with a large brownie in his hand.
“Oh my god, that is a good brownie, woman,” he said, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he devoured the brownie with-
“I wanted that one,” she said with a slight pout as she shifted onto her knees to glare at the bastard devouring the fudge brownie with buttercream frosting.
With a wicked grin, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close until she had no other choice but to straddle his lap. Once she was there, he wasted no time getting back inside her, this time making sure that she took every last inch. The same time that she felt his the pad of his thumb press down on her clit, he held the brownie up to her lips.
“The first bite is free, sweetheart,” he said, moving his thumb over her clit. “But the second bite is going to cost you.”
“They’re my brownies,” she felt obligated to point out even as she shifted her hips and slowly rode him the way that she knew would drive him crazy.
“And if you’d told me about them, I would have shared them with you,” he said, pulling the brownie away and taking a huge bite out of it before he added, “but not now, sweetheart. Now you’re going to have to earn my forgiveness even if it takes all night.”
© R.L. Mathewson 2014, All Rights for the R.L. Mathewson Chronicles preserved.