Mercenary Wife – 7


It had been a long week. Not a bad one; but a long trying one. She hadn’t quite earned his forgiveness. Maybe she’d expected… well no, hoped that her apology would do magic. But it hadn’t performed the slate-wiping miracle she’d unconsciously been hoping for. Whilst he was less aloof with her, he still maintained a certain distance from her.

It had been something of a great shock to actually realise that he’d indeed hired someone to tail and stalk her. But she couldn’t blame him for taking such extreme, intrusive actions. She’d broken his trust and she was finding out that it would take more than just words to heal the wound she’d inflicted on him and to win back his trust.

He’d moved back to the guestroom two days ago after the splint had been taken off his hand. She’d hoped that he would not. She’d hoped that one of the nights he’d spent on the bed and she on the couch, that he would invite her into the bed… to lie beside him if nothing else.

He hadn’t invited her into the massive double bed and he’d kept his eyes averted each time she’d chosen to dress and undress in his presence.

She was now convinced that he wasn’t at all the type of man to yield to the baser nature of his flesh. And whilst that was becoming something she admired in him, it was also the source of her greatest frustration at the moment, as it left her more confounded than ever on how to win him over. If sex was useless, then what other weapon has she got? Trying to act subdued… well, she wasn’t exactly acting. She has not been her usual carefree, confident-in-her-feminine-power self lately, and that wasn’t pretence.

She didn’t want to hurt him again. More to the point, she didn’t want to make matters worse between them. If they weren’t going to get better any time soon, they shouldn’t be allowed to get worse.

But damn it, she needed things to start getting better!

Richelle brushed her hand down her face and forced herself to swallow the spurt of impatience. It wouldn’t do to lose her patience now and to ruin the good efforts she’d put in. It’d only been a week and a day, twenty days of their being married. Practically three weeks, but still not long enough time for complete forgiveness, and forgetfulness, that she was desperate for. So, a little more patience and even more, carefulness.

Richelle got up from the bed, slid on her house sandals and strode out of the room.

Taking a deep breath and fixing a friendly smile, she knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Her smile slightly widened. That was part of the improvements her apology had earned. He allowed her freely into the bedroom, no longer accosted her at the door.

“Hey, I’m thinking of starting dinner and want to know if you particularly want anything.” She’d taken over preparing their meals. And he had not objected—another improvement.

“No, nothing.” He cast her an almost absent glance. “Whatever you’re making is fine by me.”

“All right.” She was thinking of making one of his favourites, fries with tomato fish sauce anyway. “Are you going out?” He was sliding his wallet into the pocket of his denims.

“I am.” He turned and nodded. “Have a little business in town.”

“Business?” Richelle frowned. “Simon, you’re still in recovery. The doctor said you were still to take it easy a few more days.”

“And I’ve done so the last two days.” He slipped on his black Perry leather loafers. “I’ve not gone to work and I’ve kept off doing anything exerting around here.”

“But what can be so important that you must take care of this evening?” Richelle blocked his exit.

“Richelle, I’ve got business outside this house.” He held her shoulders and gently nudged her aside. “I’ll be back soon. This is bound not to take long.”

“But what is this?” Feeling a sudden disquiet, Richelle eyed him warily. “It’s not about… about me going to that guesthouse, is it? Because I swear again to you, Simon, that nothing happened there and that part of my life is over.”

“You really need to stop swearing. And no, this is not about that.” He gave her a wry smile. And Richelle felt the wash of quick relief. “It’s entirely a different matter—business matter. And you will find out what it is when I get back.”

“Can I go with you? I’ll drive you. Your hand must still feel stiff.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Doubting my capabilities as a good driver now?” And he actually chuckled. “No worries. I don’t plan on blowing past another intersection. Besides, weren’t you planning on getting dinner started?”

“Ah, yes. But—”

“No buts.” He cut her off, taking her hand as he swept through the door. “You go play good wife in the kitchen and I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not playing good wife, Simon.” Richelle looked down at the hand he’d just let go. The touch had been somewhat impersonal. She wished it wasn’t. “I’m really trying to please you.”

“Well, aren’t we sensitive this evening.” He chuckled again. “Was only teasing, Richie. Now, let me go. I’ve got an appointment and it won’t be fair to be late. See ya.”

Richelle watched as he strode up the corridor and then disappeared through the connecting door. He’d called her Richie. He used to call her that… before all of this mess started. She used to like hearing him call her that, because he was practically the only who did. Surely that was a sign? A sign that things were slowly getting better. He was laughing and teasing her. And he was touching her, no matter how impersonal.

Patience. That was what she required. Patience and steadfastness in behaving right and soon, hopefully soon, she’d win him back.

Richelle stopped at the master bedroom to pick her phone before heading to the kitchen. She wished she hadn’t though when her mother’s call started ringing just as she washed out the potatoes.

Sighing, Richelle picked the call. “Good evening, mum.”

“Took your time picking the call, didn’t you?” Noreen complained first before she asked. “How is your husband?”

“Simon’s all right, mum.” And added in case she’d request to speak with him. “He’s not at home presently though. Just stepped out.”

“Hmm. And how are things between you two?”

Richelle held back a sigh. Her mother never let up on that. “We’re just fine, mum.”

“Uh-hmm.” Noreen’s snort was disbelieving. “You’ve been chanting that any time I ask but from what I’ve seen while visiting, you two are anything but fine.”

“We are still resolving matters, mum. But we are doing all right.”

“You wouldn’t be sounding frustrated and trying to hide it if you’d accept my offer.”

“Mum please, I want nothing of that.” Richelle cast a glance over her shoulder and inched further away from Nene at the sink. “I don’t care for such things and it’s not something I want between Simon and me.”

“Oh, stop with the snooty tone.” Her mother chided. “Everything has its place. A man is more permanently yours when you have a secure extra hold on him.”

“I don’t need any extra hold on Simon, mum.” Her tone was hushed, and a little irritated. “He’s a good man and once I’ve earned his forgiveness, we’ll be just fine.”

“Well, if you are certain…”

“I am certain.” Richelle all but snapped. “Anyway, I do have to go. I was preparing dinner.”

“I thought you have that girl… uh, Nene to do that for you.”

“I prefer to make Simon’s meals myself, mum. Didn’t you always bang the sounding board that the quickest way to mellow a man is through good food?”

“Hmm, that does work. Men will always waive over a well-cooked meal.” Her mother’s quick chuckle floated down the line. “But the quickest way to mellow a man? That would be how a woman cooks up her body and how enticingly she serves the dish. Maybe you shouldn’t be overtaxing yourself in the kitchen but doing the real work in the other room.”

The teasing last bit curved Richelle’s lips. “You can be certain I’m working on that too, mum. Now, I really have to go. He said he won’t be long and I don’t want him coming back and not finding the table set.”

“All right. Tell him I asked of him when he gets back.”

As was usual, her mother ended the call without farewell greetings. Richelle went back to her cooking, but her mind kept busy with her mother’s teasing remarks. She’d stand a faster chance of getting Simon to be besotted once more with her if she could get him to lie with her in that other room. Any one of the other rooms in the house… shouldn’t matter which.

But he wasn’t the bowled-over-by-sex type. And that was starting to worry her. God, what if he had performance issues? Really had performance issues?

Richelle scooped out the ready fries and told herself that that just wasn’t possible. He might not be a power-stud on the sack, but she was certain he wasn’t a noodle there either.

“Someone’s at the door. Find out who it is, Nene.” She absently instructed at the bleat of the doorbell.

“All right, ma.” Nene left the plantain she was slicing and walked out.

She returned as Richelle scooped out the first set of well-browned dodo. “Who is it?”

She expected Paul or any of the family members. They’d taken to stopping by often since the accident. She didn’t mind Paul as he was friendlier these days. And she didn’t mind his parents either or his older cousin, Sister Anne. It was Abigail who still put her on edge. They’ve not fought again since the hospital; but they weren’t friends either.

“It’s a man. He says he’s a friend of yours.”

“Hmm?” Richelle put aside her thoughts. “A man who’s a friend of mine? Who?”

Nene pulled up her shoulders as if she too was bewildered. “He said his name is Voke.”

“Vo…ke?” Richelle dropped her frying fork and stepped back from the cooker. “Voke’s here?” How could he be here? What did he— “Nene, finish frying the plantain and wash the smoked fish. I’ll be back to make the sauce.” She wiped off her hands, dumped the napkin and strode out of the kitchen.

He was really in her living room, clad in cotton black trousers and a short-sleeved fitted shirt. Probably coming from work. Richelle didn’t care.

“What are you doing here?”

He spun around from his appraisal and pealed out a huge smile on seeing her. “Evening, Richelle. Or should I say: Mrs Tim-Jaja.”

Richelle tightened her mouth with her displeasure. “How did you even know where we live?”

“Come on, Rich. He’s Simon Tim-Jaja, so his… your home address is quite easy to hunt down.” He cast another look around. “I see you’re living large and living well.”

“How dare you come here, Voke?” Richelle was furious and she showed it. “How dare you trace me to my husband’s house?” She jerked a finger at the door. “Get out! I want you to get out and to never return here.”

“I see you’re still sounding superior. I’d counsel that you get down off your high horse, Richelle.” He grinned like he was thoroughly amused. “I told you the other day, you want to keep my mouth shut about our little romance, you’ll have to be money-nice to me. Lots of money-nice. And seeing this place,” he spread his arms, “don’t think that’d be hard at all.”

“And I told you that you can’t blackmail me, Voke.” For the first time in her life, Richelle regretted that she hadn’t listened to her mother. “You want to pitch your word against mine to my husband? Be my guest. But don’t be surprised if you wind up disappointed.”

“I’ve got messages, Richelle. All kinds of messages.”

“Messages?” Richelle snorted. “And what are in them? Rendezvous arrangements and the likes? Please Voke, pretend you’ve got a brain in that skull of yours.”

“You like to bluff, Richelle, huh?” Voke growled, his dark face contorting with a spurt of quick anger. “You ever wonder what your husband will say when I tell him you were boning me all the while you were planning to marry him for his worldly goods?”

“My husband knows all about that unforgivable mistake of mine. And guess what?” Richelle met his gaze with a mocking smile. “I am still here in his home.”

Voke gaped at her. Then he let out a loud laugh. “Damn, I never knew you were this good at bluffing.” He chuckled, swaggered to her side and raised his hand to trail along her arm. “Why so stingy with good ole Voke, uh? You and me can pound on each other one more time before I stroll out of here with my settlement.” His forefinger trailed up to her lower lip. “Because, Richelle, I will be settled before I step out of here, one way or another.”

“You’re repulsive, Voke.” Richelle knocked off his hand and sidestepped him. “You’re getting nothing from me. Not today, not ever. Now get out of here.”

He grabbed her and shoved his body against hers. “Stop talking to me like you once didn’t groan with satisfaction under me. You do as I say or—”

“Shush!” Richelle hushed him with a flick of one finger and tuned up her ears.

It was indeed the hum of a car. And there was another. Simon was back… and with someone.

“Oh God!” Panic surged like an inferno through her. “You need to go. Simon’s back.”

“Ah, I see you’re not so confident now.” Voke grinned maddeningly. “Well, since I anticipated seeing the good husband today too, I’ll just sit tight and wait for him.”

“No, you won’t.” Richelle grabbed him. “You get out of here! Don’t you hear what I’m saying? My husband is back. Get out, Voke!”

“No.” He twisted her grasp, so he was the one holding her—against his chest. “It’s time for your dear husband to know the truth about you. You think differently? You settle me up right now—one cool mil.”

“One million?” For the wildest second, Richelle considered it. But no, she wouldn’t. And it was too late anyway. “Take your hands off me!” She shoved back but he yanked her back against him. “Stop it, Voke!”

The door opened and even as Simon first stopped in his tracks, Richelle was already wrenching out of Voke’s grip. She saw when recognition lighted his eyes and staggered back from the blazing fury that reared in its place.

“Simon, it’s not—”

“You would dare bring him to my house?” His voice shot like a bullet as he cut her off and stormed forward.

“No, Simon!” Fear hit and Richelle backed up. “No, I didn’t bring him here. He—”

“Sir, I think you and I—”

Simon whirled around so fast, bounding into Voke before he could finish his speech.

The scream tore out of Richelle even as her eyes widened with the shock, and horror, of Simon clawing his hand around Voke’s collar and plunging his left hand into his stomach. The loud grunt was from both men as Simon kneed Voke in the groin and went with him downwards in a fist-scramble tussle.

“Stop it!” Richelle screeched. “Get your hands off him!” She ran forward and kicked her foot into Voke. Then squealed when Simon’s left hand flung out and smashed into Voke’s face.

Blood squirted out and Richelle shrieked with the force of panic. “Nene!”

The housekeeper was already running out and at the sight of the two men pummelling each other on the floor and sending furniture in zigzag crashes, yelled. “Oh Jesus! What is happening? Why is Oga fighting?”

“Get Idris and Emeka!” Richelle ordered, ignoring her bewildered questions as she jumped out of the way of a back-sliding coffee table. “Get them now!”

As she fled, Richelle grabbed the accent chair that toppled over at her feet. Lifting it, she danced around their grunting bodies and flying fists, looking for the best chance to slam the chair on Voke.

“Get out of the way!” Simon hurled at her, heaving to his feet and yanking Voke up with both hands, one hand fisting swiftly to ram into his stomach.

Voke grunted, swore and doubled over.

So he was all muscles and no strength, huh? Richelle was thoroughly disgusted as she skittered out of the way of swinging body fluid and spirting blood.

Nene ran back into the room with Idris and Emeka at her heels.

“Get this bastard out of my house and never let him in through the gates!” Simon ordered and tossed Voke bodily at the two eager-eyed young men who dragged him off.

He whirled on Nene and ground out. “Leave us alone. Now!”

Once again, the housekeeper fled.

Richelle stumbled back and hit against the sturdy sofa. “Simon—”

“You would dare bring him into my house, Richelle?” He snarled.

The snarl was the ferocious growl of an animal and his eyes were wild and dark with rage. Richelle raised her hands in fear and self-defence, scared she might get a pound of his fist too. “No, I didn’t. He came here on his own. I didn’t know he was coming. I didn’t ask him to come. I—”

A loud squeal skittered out of her mouth as his hand clamped over her arm and yanked her viciously against him. “You want him because you think he’s the accomplished lover, right?”

“No, I don’t want him. Not anymore. Not ever again.” Her body was pressed hard against his sweaty body and her heart was pounding with fear, but Richelle was sorry to see his broken lip. “Oh Simon, you’re bleeding. Let me—”

“It’s all about sex with you, isn’t it?” He cut her off with a brutal growl. “You crave a man who will make you feel like a woman, not so? That’s what you want from him, hot sex, right?”


“Shut up!” His mouth crushed over hers and he devoured her with forceful, hard mouth.

The kiss was a shock. Unexpected and Richelle yielded to its brutality… well, she couldn’t have done anything else but yield. His mouth was hot and wild and possessive over her own. And it took with a force that was nothing else but vengeful.

“You want sex, Richelle, don’t you? You want a man who will give you sex and make you want more and never have enough? That’s what your body is craving for, right?” He growled over her mouth, nibbling with a bit more force than he should.

“Ah…” Her body was on fire and Richelle could feel the wild pounding of her heart—and his own. His eyes were still furious but raw desire lurked beneath the incensed gleam. It shook Richelle. Shook her to her core and ignited her own desire. “Simon, I didn’t invite him here.” Her voice was a hoarse, hitching whisper. “I wouldn’t. Believe me, please.”

“Shut up!” He repeated and silenced her with another savage kiss, picking her feet off the floor even as his wild kiss seared her with ruthless passion.

He dumped her back on her feet, caught her with one arm when she swayed backward. Richelle only vaguely noted that they were in the master bedroom.

“You are mine.” He ground against her mouth. “Mine and nobody else’s, Richelle. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” She reached out her hands, wanting to touch his face.

He snatched and imprisoned them between their panting bodies. “You dare allow any man touch you one more time, and I swear to God, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

“Yes.” His fury, wildness, possessiveness shot uncontainable desire through her. “Simon. Baby—”

“Shut up.” He growled for the third time, clamping his mouth over hers as his hands groped her, sliding underneath her silk blouse and attacking every part of her body it roamed over.

Richelle supposed she should be shocked and scared and shying away. But instead, she was delighted and ecstatic and wanting more of his wild kisses and torturous caressing hands.

She’d always liked the feel of a man’s hands on her body. She liked the strong, hard strength of textured palms and long bony fingers. But she loved his tough hands. Loved the feel of his palms—warm, wide, slightly coarse and possessive—as they groped and stroked her.

He wasn’t smooth and considerate and she liked that his every touch spelt need, raw and greedy. He wanted her. It did not matter that he was mostly riding on blind rage and fury. He wanted her. And it shocked her that she wanted him just as greedily.

When had that unquenchable need been ignited?

The moment she’d seen his naked chest?

The moment he’d savagely kissed her?

Richelle didn’t know. It didn’t matter now.  What mattered was that he had her juices spilling as his unrelenting palms cupped her clothed breast and squeezed with enough viciousness to shudder a hoarse moan out of her.

Gosh, she wanted his mouth on hers again. And as if he read her thought, he let go her breast, gripped her blouse and ripped it with a single yank. Then crushed his mouth against her nipple that bounced out of a hastily unclasped bra.

“Oh yes, please!” Richelle gasped, grabbing on to him, hot moisture burning like potent need at her core as her legs weakened and begged to keel over.

If indeed he was reading her mind, he couldn’t be more in tune with her, for he slid his mouth off her nipple—and it was a slow torturous separation—straightened and picked her into his arms again and straight to the bed.

His clothes came off in speedy yanks and the rest of hers went same way. Then he hunched over her, naked as Adam in Eden and glorious as a man.

“Holy Lord!” Her throat went instantaneously desert dry.

Had she thought he would have a teeny-weeny pecker? Fool her. Nothing teeny and nothing pecker about his— Gosh, to call it shaft sounded even disrespectful.

“Oh please, get into me! Take me, Simon!” Richelle reached over and grabbed him, moaning when her hand couldn’t quite circle his thickness.

“Not yet.” He closed his hand over hers, loosened her grip and turned the hand to trail her fingers along her body stopping just between her breasts.

His eyes were hot and dark and fiery on hers. Raw, rich desire flickered and burned, and the fury was gone. Richelle felt her body tighten, dissolve and then, go pure melted liquid.

His gaze didn’t flicker and  didn’t lose its intensity as he lowered his head, kissed her, slowly, thoroughly and then he raised his head again before lowering it to clasp her nipple into his mouth. And as her breath quickened and whooshed over, he slid his finger into her, gliding through the silky wetness and riding her with long skilful fingers.

Richelle orgasmed twice before his fingers were replaced by his even more skilful tongue and her wild screeches echoed around the room… and maybe beyond, as she came again and again—and again.

“Finish it, Simon! Please finish it!” She feverishly begged, quaking and shuddering and wanting him to fill her—and ride her.

His tongue slid out of her and with his eyes fixed deep in hers, he hiked up her hips and thrust into her.

“Oh God!” Was her gasp as pure pleasure shot through her. This was sex. This was— “Simon!” Richelle cried, going mindless and arching with his thrusts.

When his mouth closed over hers, he demanded surrender and powerless to do anything else, Richelle gave it as his thrusts climbed and vaulted, reaching for the exaltation that came with her last cry and his violent shudder.

Richelle lay, spent and speechless, beside him. Holy heavens, had she even thought that he wouldn’t have the stamina to perform? Well, he had stamina, and damn, he had mad skills too.

“Simon…” She reached for him.

He evaded her hold, rolled out of the bed, bundled his clothes and walked, naked, out of the room.

Richelle felt the prick and blinked back the quick tear. Should she run after him? She didn’t think she should. She didn’t even have the strength to. She was still trembling from what he’d unleashed on her. And in any case, she had a feeling he’d be locking his door tonight.

She let out a sigh and shut her eyes. Oh Richelle, you had the whole package and you didn’t even know it.


Had a good read? Let us hear your feedback then. Cheers.

Dedication: For all December Celebrants. Love, Long-Life & Prosperity.

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28 Responses to Mercenary Wife – 7

  1. favour says:

    And she had the whole package and was so clueless

  2. jojodia says:

    Osanobua… I am speechless….and I will remain speechless for the rest of the day

  3. Jeffrey Jamez says:

    Psychological torture is just the best way to deal with this and Simon is doing it a 100%..she go love am by fire by force without even knowing it lol.

  4. Mammy says:

    Hahaha! Voke is a joke. Riche baby just continue begging for this guy loves you damn too much

  5. Ego says:

    Unexpected twist… TM at it again. Richelle don enter

  6. Toyenlon says:

    The gut of this Voke ehn, to come to their house, the guy is crazy. And Simon finally lost it…

  7. Unique Ell' says:

    Wow! I pity Richie! She go love overdose now!

  8. Ella mum says:


  9. Doyinsola says:

    The whole package!! Hmm, broda Simoni is the whole package she’s ever needed….weldone ma’am

  10. Pacesetter says:


  11. Iyke David says:

    @The other room,Lolz! Thanks TM for remembering us,the December people!

  12. Gloria says:

    Hmmm speechless

  13. Adefunke says:

    this is damn hot!

  14. MercyKings says:

    Speechless, TM. That was one heaven of a ride.

  15. Patience.Bassey says:

    Sorry Richie, you are now hooked!

  16. Kemi says:

    she shd go n beg jare

  17. chic says:

    simon the stud. hmmm

  18. irene B says:

    This is erotically super.

  19. mady says:

    Omg!! Omg!! Omg!!
    Sm1 Sud allow me b a psychic lemme knw wah hapns nxt
    Dis episode s long buh it jst seems short

    • Ooohhhh… Mady, Mady, Mady… ooohhh, I bestow on you the power to see into the stars. Read the future. Tell the future. What’s Simon gonna do? Is there a repeat hot romantic episode on the line?… See… Know… Tell us… *buahahahahahaha*

  20. Paula says:

    Serves Voke right

  21. Nancydearie says:

    Wonderful update. Richelle never knew that what she desperately wanted with Voke was right under her nose. I love what Simon did to that Voke, imagine he has gut to come looking for her in her matrimonial home.Thanks TM.

  22. Serves Voke right and Richie too

  23. MercyKings says:

    Aunty TM, haf it not reach time to make update? l haf shek here 10 tomes today nah.
    Happy Sunday girl. U still rock.

  24. frances says:

    See what happens when sickness calls. First daughter then me. Ah Tnk God health. Late reading wen next episode is already out.

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