Partner in Crime, page 1
PARTNER IN CRIME
A FORBIDDEN ROMANCE
S.E. LAW
Copyright © 2022 by S.E. Law
All rights reserved.
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CONTENTS
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Sneak Peek: Daddy’s Love Child
Sneak Peek: Filthy Twin Stepbrothers
About the Author
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Jemima: I was so pissed when my boyfriend cheated on me RIGHT BEFORE MY VERY EYES at the movie theater. Yes, you guessed it. Carl pulled Miss Cindy Sinclair into his lap at the darkened theater and the two began going at it … with me sitting next to them! Incensed doesn’t even begin to describe my rage. As a result, I decide to seek revenge, but I need a *very* particular partner in crime.
* * *
Bruce: She wants me to do what? I could hardly believe it when the very curvy and very delectable Jemima James tells me she has a scheme to get back at her ex. Clearly, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned because not only will everyone’s eyes be on us, but we’ll be doing *that* with no holds barred. But I’ve had my eye on Jemima for years, and my chance to claim the curvy girl is finally here. What neither of us expected? Making a baby, not to mention falling in love.
* * *
This is a follow-up to Mistaken For An Escort. In this story, we meet Peter’s younger brother Bruce as he stumbles onto a woman who’s his match. Not only does playboy Bruce fall head over heels for the sassy woman, but he also loves every second of it! Strap on your seatbelts for some naughty fun because revenge is a dish best served cold. Although this is a follow-up story, all of my books are standalones and do not need to be read in any order. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers.
1
Jemima
* * *
I check my watch again. The movie is starting in fifteen minutes and I’m still waiting for my boyfriend and our friends to show up. We’re all supposed to meet in front of the Majesty Theater, but it looks like I got here first, and no one else has made an appearance yet.
That’s okay though because the Majesty is my favorite place to go to the movies in Atlantic City. It has a classic theatre feel that makes the silver screen that much better. Even from the outside, the Majesty melds the past and future into one with its giant, old-school marquee, along with a very modern ticket booth where the latest movie times scroll along in big block letters. I love having the convenience and ingenuity of the present, especially when it’s paired with the romance of the past.
Plus, these days movie theaters let you pick your seats before you go in. My boyfriend Carl knows that I like to get in early to get a good chair for the previews but he isn’t exactly a very thoughtful guy. More than once, he’s shown up at the very last minute, and we had to take less-than-optimal seats in the first row where your head tilts back so far that it basically rests on the chair back. I was kind of mad those times, but was Carl apologetic? No.
Even worse, we probably won’t even have time to grab popcorn before the movie starts tonight, and I adore movie theater popcorn. I love how it’s hot and fresh, and I generally douse my bags with warm, gooey butter, not to mention a few good shakes of salt.
Ugh. I’m so mad just thinking of it. I know I should tell Carl I’m sick of the way he dismisses my concerns with a shrug, and it isn’t just the movies. It’s pretty much everything. In our relationship, things are pretty much Carl’s way or the highway. Still, I let him get away with being a half-assed boyfriend because he’s really handsome and gorgeous, and a ton of girls would give their right hands to be me.
After all, Carl is the perfect guy, physically speaking. He has classic good looks with blonde hair and blue eyes reminiscent of a clear sunny day, and he’s athletic so his body is lean and muscular. There’s no doubt he could get any girl he wants, so it’s crazy that he’s dating me because I’m the opposite of perfect. My hair is brown and wild with unruly curls, and I have matching mud-brown eyes. To top it off, I’m short and curvy and I like to eat so much that my stomach and thighs are soft and thick, and decidedly untoned. As a result, I put up with a lot from Carl because I know I’m lucky he’s dating me at all.
Another five minutes passes and my foot taps on the sidewalk impatiently. I’m about to call Carl when he finally strolls up with our friends Carol, Danny, and Cindy. All of us work together at the Wilshire Hotel. Carl is a golf pro, and Cindy is a receptionist like me, although we don’t know each other well. Carol and Danny work in the restaurant and are all around nice people. Carol even sneaks treats out to the front desk for me from time to time when she’s on a break. She’s my favorite in our group of friends.
I wave to them, and groan when they take their sweet time meandering over to meet me. I’m practically jumping with nerves while gesturing furiously. “Guys, the movie starts in ten minutes,” I call. “We’ve got to hurry! Come on!”
Carl rolls his eyes at me. “You know the movie never starts on time, Jemima. Calm your tits.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. “Well, all the good seats are probably gone now. We better get in there or we might not find a place to sit together.”
Cindy yawns, tossing her shiny blonde hair back.
“What movie are we seeing anyway?” she asks.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to roll my eyes. We’ve only discussed the movie we’ll be watching a million times over our latest group text. Then again, Cindy didn’t want to see a horror film, so I’m sure she’s being intentionally dense. I look at Carl hoping he’ll back me up, but his focus seems to be on Cindy’s large chest, which is being shown off to the max in a tight white sweater.
I grind my teeth and flex my fingers so I don’t leap up with rage and slap Carl or Cindy. Maybe both. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? With a fake smile I look at Cindy and say, “We’re seeing Monsters and Angels. You know, Tom Hanks’s latest? It’s supposed to be really good. Now, come on.”
Without waiting for a response, I start hurrying inside and thankfully, everyone follows me. Yet I still hear Cindy griping under her breath about how stupid the movie is going to be and how old Tom Hanks has gotten. I shake my head. It doesn’t matter what she thinks. We’re going to see it anyways.
Quickly, we head into the theater, which is semi-dark. It’s nice because the old-timey theme continues indoors, and the seats are big and comfortable, lined in red microsuede. The big screen is enormous and framed by giant red curtains with gold tassels at the bottom that swish elegantly when they move. Thankfully, the theater is relatively empty and we manage to find a row with enough seats where we can all squeeze in together.
Carl steps aside in the aisle, and I smile, thinking he’s waiting for me to go in. But instead, Cindy flashes him a flirty smile and scoots right in, wiggling her backside. I swear, could her flowery mini-skirt be any shorter? One gust of wind, and she’ll be showing us her panties.
But Carl doesn’t notice. Instead, he files in right behind her, and gritting my teeth, I follow him, taking the seat on his other side. Luckily, Carol sits to my right, which is good because I might need a friend to get through this movie. Sensing my nerves, my buddy leans forward and whispers, “Don’t let that hussy get under your skin. Cindy’s just a bitch, full stop.”
“Thanks,” I nod grimly, trying to look normal. “Once the movie starts, I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
But you know what? Two can play at this game. Seductively, I shift in my seat so I’m leaning against Carl’s shoulder and then reach for his hand. He goes still at first, but then links our fingers together on the armrest between us before shooting me a smile.
“It’s going to be a great movie,” he enthuses. “I’m looking forward to it.”
I smile brilliantly.
“Me too! I love Tom Hanks.” With that, my annoyance fades and I smile with my head against his shoulder as the lights dim and the previews begin. To be honest, the movie is great. After about thirty minutes, I realize it’s lived up to its hype, and I’m fixated on the screen. Tom Hanks is a wonderful actor, and it’s not surprising he’s won two Academy Awards already.
Plus, the cinematography is wonderful. The scene playing out on screen right now is in a dark forest with the wind whistling through the leaves, and I can literally hear some people moan with fear. In fact, the whole theater seems to have gotten even darker. Did they lower the lights? I crane my head up to see if anything’s changed, but that’s when I see it. Carl slips his free hand into Cindy’s lap and at first, I think I’m imagining things. But then, something flickers on screen, and I see it’s not a mistake. His hand is definitely there, resting on her leg. This is not okay. I raise my hand to shake his shoulder, when suddenly, a sound reaches my ears.
“Mmph.”
What was that? My whole b
“Ummmmm.”
What the hell? I look around subtly again, and then suddenly, a movement captures my eye. It’s Carl, and this time, his hand’s not just sitting motionless on Cindy’s thigh. Instead, he’s slipped his hand under her skirt, and there’s definite fingering going on. As I watch with horrified eyes, her skirt inches upwards until I literally see his wet fingers disappearing into her swollen pink slit.
“Mmmm,” she moans again. This time, I can see her head loll back against the chair back, her eyes closed with pleasure. To my horror, Carl’s fingers increase their speed, and there’s even a distinct wet sucking sound now. OMG! How can this be happening? I’m sitting right next to my boyfriend, on his other side in fact. How can he be doing this?
My whole body is vibrating with rage. I want to slap Carl. I want to kick his ass and then drag Cindy out of here by her bleached blonde hair as she cries and writhes on the ground. But that would definitely get me banned from the Majesty, and I’m not letting them take this place away from me. Before I can figure out what I want to do, Carl leans away from me for just a second, closer to Cindy like he’s whispering to her, then he suddenly stands up. He tries to discreetly adjust himself in his pants, but I see the enormous bulge at his crotch.
“I’m going to the restroom,” he whispers to no one in particular. “I’ll be right back.”
Then, he steps right over me and makes his way down the aisle. That fucker. He’s gone to rub one out.
But to my horror, about a minute later Cindy gets up too, her nipples clearly aroused as she tucks her shiny blonde hair behind her ears.
“I’ve got to stretch my legs,” she says in an innocent tone. “Excuse me.”
But Cindy doesn’t try to climb over me, Carol, and Danny. Instead, she goes out the other way which is good because I probably would have tripped the bitch on her way by. Holy fuck. Is this really happening?
But after ten minutes have passed, neither Carl nor Cindy have returned to their seats. Am I really going to have to go out and look for them? I twist in my chair to tell Carol my plan, when suddenly a movement near the back of the theater catches my eye.
I have to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from screaming out loud because Carl isn’t in the bathroom, and neither is that slut Cindy! Instead, the two of them snuck to the back of the darkened theater and are now sitting in the back row. Or more accurately, Carl’s sitting as Cindy rides him like a bucking bronco. To my horror, it seems that the pretty blonde is completely nude, her golden hair spilling down her back as she grips my boyfriend’s shoulders with ecstasy. Her head falls back and I see Carl’s eyes squeezing shut, his face taking on a look of concentration. Even in the dark I can tell he’s furiously pumping his hips, fucking her as his mouth goes to her neck in an open-mouthed kiss.
Then Cindy throws her head back, her lips parting for a wail, but Carl quickly slaps a hand over her mouth. It’s too late though. A long, reedy, “Oooohhhhh!” permeates the theater, and you’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to notice. What the hell is wrong with them? Did they really think I wouldn’t see this; that everyone in here wouldn’t see? Well, fuck them. Taking a deep breath, I get up and pull my jacket on. Then, like a dignified Egyptian queen, I step over my friends and walk up the aisle, pretending not to see Carl and Cindy. Not that they’d notice. From the corner of my eye, I can tell that Cindy really is completely nude, her big breasts bouncing and jouncing as Carl gives it to her especially hard. Then, they both shudder violently, surely reaching orgasm.
Fuck that. I keep my head up high and stalk out, even if my eyes are filling with tears. My breathing is labored, but I make it all the way to my car before bursting into ugly, brutal sobs. What the hell? How could that have happened? Have they no shame?
But logic gets the best of me, and I reach into my purse, digging out my phone. Then pulling up Carl’s name, I fire off a quick text message.
“We’re over.”
As soon as I hit send, I drop my phone into the cup holder and lose the thin hold on my emotions. I let out another ugly half-wail, half-moan before dropping my head to my steering wheel as another sob claws its way from my throat. I cry until my throat feels raw and my eyes run dry. Then, I wipe my face and drive myself home, still hiccuping the entire way. Evidently, I went to see a horror movie, and instead I got a real-life horror show with my ex-boyfriend as the monster who broke my heart.
2
Jemima
* * *
It took every ounce of strength I have not to call out from work this morning, but I refuse to let Carl and Cindy win if they see that I took a day off. So here I am at the reception desk in the main lobby of the Wilshire. It’s gorgeous actually because the Wilshires spared no dime when it came to their hotel. There are quartz countertops, crystal chandeliers, and white leather sofas in the reception area. Even the guests that have come in this morning have been elegant and charming, with their expensive clothes and refined manners. Meanwhile, I’m wearing a ton of concealer to hide the puffy dark circles from a long night of crying into my pillow.
But a job is a job. Forcing a fake smile, I help the Wilshire’s guests check in and get their luggage order. A few women have smiled gently, as if they can see through my overly chirpy, forced happy attitude. After all, it’s pretty clear this is the fake-cheerful-employee charade.
But it’s incredible that I’ve already been at work for a few hours, since seven this morning in fact. It feels interminable, but I soldier forward with the plastic smile on my face. After all, if I’m being objective, I have to acknowledge that this really is a good job. The Wilshire Hotel is a great place to work, and the owners take care of us, their employees. The hotel is always busy, but we get plenty of breaks, and there are a lot of perks like free breakfast and plenty of vacation days. I’m just a little heart broken and crabby this morning, so I’m mentally stressed, even if no one around me knows it.
I’m just finishing up checking in a gag-tastically in love newlywed couple when I see her. If I’d been paying attention to the clock, I could have prepared myself but it’s too late for that now. Actually, I should have expected it because it’s ten a.m. and she’s right on time for her shift. Cindy’s perfectly straight blonde hair is the first thing that catches my eye. She walks towards the employee lounge looking like she’s floating on a damn cloud, her subtle makeup highlighting those razor-sharp cheekbones and rosy pink lips. Even in the hotel uniform, the pretty blonde looks like sex in heels, and I curse myself. After all, I look like I was run over by my boyfriend and his slutty side piece, and I guess I was.
Suddenly, I can feel the tears I’ve been forcing down all day creeping to the surface. I dig my nails into the countertop and take long, slow, deep breaths, willing the tears to dry up. I won’t let Cindy see me cry. I won’t. Luckily, my emotions calm and I manage to put a smile on my face. Then, as soon as Cindy takes her place at the other receptionist station, I put up my away sign and walk off for a ten-minute break.
Quickly, I open the door in back of us and enter the employee lounge. It’s a comfortable room with two suede couches facing each other, and a beautiful kitchen table sits at the other end, along with a dining table and a water cooler. But I don’t stop here. Too many people come in and out of this room and I can’t let anyone see me cry. Instead, I dart out the back door into one of the hotel’s hidden hallways. As with every hotel, guests only see what’s put in front of them. However, there’s an entire maze of service areas out of view, and this hallway is one of them. It’s dimly lit, with plain beige walls and a concrete floor.
