Cruel Pleasures

Chapter Two - Lee Residence

Maybell parked the car at 7:28 pm.

Nearly twisting her ankle, she dashed from the car, up the curb, and across a clean and manicured lawn and up to a large white fence that encircled a large brick mansion, complete with a wide chimney, countless windows and nearly eight rooms, not including the living room, two kitchens , a garage and a giant pool. It was a Mansion that He owned.

Wasting precious seconds Maybell fumbled in her purse for the ID card that she was going to have to slide across the digital locks on the gate, that appeared to be made of old picket wood, but was in fact composed of metal and wires

Maybell swiped the card, then screamed in frustration when she had to turn the card around and swipe it again....the right way this time.

Finally bursting through the gate Maybell was suddenly in an immaculate garden. Rose shrubs as tall as a man and filed with red perfection spread all around. Elegant patio sets and stylish umbrellas and empty Grecian benches dotted acres of open land far into out into the encroaching night.

Maybell ignored it all. The splendor held no candle to the weight of time. Ahead of Maybell stretched a pleasing path of cement stones in various shades of pastel that created a pleasing little walkway through the green grass and fragrant flowers.

Dropping any faced of Grace Maybell dashed straight to the front door.

The woman was solid, but easily in shape and she reached the door quickly, curls swinging and breasts dancing up and down as she panted off the exercise.

Did I make it in time?

She asked herself. But too afraid to know the answer, Maybell left her phone in her bag, as she reached out and pressed the small doorbell beside the door. A silver plaque  with black letters inlaid on it spelled out the surname of the people who owned that large mansion, and yard and a multi-million dollar dynasty.

Lee Residence...spelled the letters.

Maybell stood there, heart racing, soul turning flips from worry. In seconds the door swung open and there he stood, with a phone in his hand. Smirking like a fox.

He was a young man, only a few months removed from Maybell's own age. At the sight of him Maybell's pulse only got more unbalanced. He was a tall man, swallowing up the door way, with a girth that was healthy, but not overbearing. Lean and fit. Tapered off at the hips, long legs, and a face as sinful as it was appealing, with thin lips, a high nose, thick lashes....and eyes that were a two toned mix between amber and amethyst. Sharp black hair cut close to his head, was wavy and well-groomed as was the hair at the tip of his short chin.

"Isiah..." She started to say, still panting, naming the man she had come to see.

But before Maybell could say more, the man, Isiah, shoved the phone in her face and quietly told her. "Your late May...."

"May." Was his nick name for her. A nick name he only used when he planned to do something wicked and sinful to her. Maybell didn't know if she hated it or loved it anymore. Isiah's voice was heavy and full and utterly commanding that Maybell had come to desire the timber of it in her ear over the years no matter what it said.

Eyes locked on the phone in silent denial, Maybell never got the chance to respond before a large warm hand snatched out of the door and Isiah grabbed Maybell by the wrist. Before pulling her inside.