My Husband's Mistress: Renaissance Collection

My Husband's Mistress: Renaissance Collection

by Racquel Williams

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Overview

Hassan Clarke is a self-proclaimed ladies’ man with his eyes set on the prize. With his jovial ways and gift for gab, he has managed to weasel his way into the lives of two women—his wife, Destiny, and his mistress, Imani. His mistress is a gold-digging, self-serving side chick determined to be with her married lover even if it means losing everything, including her soul, to get to him. However, after putting years of hard work and her hard-earned money into building her husband’s firm, Destiny doesn’t plan to forgo all the benefits without a fight. Hassan soon finds out that living the double life is not what it’s cracked up to be.

Destiny’s life has been turned upside down by the cheating husband she once thought was the man of her dreams. His reckless behavior has not only caused major heartbreak, but it has also caused her major health problems. With the cards stacked against her, she must dig deep within to pull out her inner strength. 

Take this wild ride as the characters in this crazy love triangle wreak havoc in each other’s lives. Will anyone manage to get the revenge that they all yearn for, or will they learn the truth of the  expression “Love don’t love nobody”?

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781945855405
Publisher: Kensington
Publication date: 08/28/2018
Edition description: Reissue
Pages: 352
Sales rank: 377,944
Product dimensions: 4.10(w) x 6.80(h) x 1.00(d)

About the Author

Racquel Williams was born in Kingston, Jamaica, and came to the United States in 1992. Struggling to support her sons as a single mother, she chose the wrong path and ended up sentenced to thirty-seven months in prison on drug charges. Upon her release, she moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where she lives with her two sons. She is pursuing a degree in psychology and has self-published several novels.


Nicole Small (a.k.a. Shayna Small) is an actress/singer born and raised in Chicago. In the middle of her freshman year of high school she relocated to Baltimore to attend a performing arts school. She holds a BFA in drama at the Juilliard School. Her theater credits include Hurt Village and The Threepenny Opera.

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Destiny Clarke

I'd put over ten years of hard work and dedication into my marriage and I'd be damned if I was going to let one of these lower-level whores mess up my happy home. See, I wasn't your regular stay-at-home wife. I'd busted my ass, working side by side with my husband to get his firm started and I had every intention of reaping the benefits that were to come.

In order to understand how I thought about men and their whorish ways, you had to first understand how it all started. First, let me introduce myself: My sperm and egg donors named me Destiny. I was born in the early eighties, right around when the crack epidemic hit hard. My parents were crack addicts and their sorry behinds didn't want me around, so they gave me up for adoption.

Shit, that was cool with me. My new parents were everything that a child needed — or so I thought. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't conceive so I was their only child. The love I got from her was real. I'd never felt like we weren't blood and to this day, she is still the most beautiful person I knew. My parents weren't wealthy; we were what most people considered "middle class." But, I could honestly say I'd never gone without and for that, I was forever grateful.

My mother was one of those old-fashioned women that stayed at home while the husband worked. My father was a military man and by the time I got older, he was retired with honors. I thought it would be good to have him around full-time, but I was soon proven wrong when his attention turned to me. By this time, I was a teenager with the body of a woman. This must've caught Daddy's eyes because I unwillingly became his personal whore. Every night after Mama went to bed, he'd sneak into my bedroom, cover my mouth with one hand, and get on top of me, sliding his cock into my virgin pussy. I used to cry, but eventually I stopped. I would just lie there and take it until he would pull out and bust all in my face. I remembered the first time that bastard forced his cock into my mouth. I bit it so damn hard that he slapped my face.

"Bitch, if you ever say a word I will kill you," he often warned me.

"Shit, that would be so much better than you fucking me," I snarled.

I thought about suicide, but I didn't want to die. I didn't want to tell Mama out of fear that she wouldn't believe me and that they'd return me to foster care. I dreaded that place, so I kept my mouth shut and he kept on having in-house pussy. The entire time, however, I was planning his murder.

I thought I had it all figured out. Mama went to bed early, as usual; I knew the bastard was going to be in my room shortly. I didn't wait for him to come. Instead, I got up and went to the kitchen to make him and myself a cup of tea. I walked over to the den where he spent most of his time. He looked up and smiled as he saw me approach.

"Hey, honey, you look amazing."

I smiled and handed him his cup of tea. I watched as he drank it. I sat across from him with my legs wide open, showing off my fresh young pussy. I knew he couldn't help himself as he started to lick his lips, saliva dripping down his mouth.

He then got up and approached me. My heart raced, but I remained cool. When he tried to touch me, I grabbed his hand.

"No Daddy, you relax. It's my time to show you what I'm made of." I looked at him in a seductive manner.

"That's my baby. I knew you'd eventually see things my way." He grinned wickedly.

I didn't respond. I pushed him on the couch and unbuttoned his pants, releasing his wrinkled, smelly cock. I closed my eyes and started to lick the tip of it. His groans became louder and that motivated me to suck harder. I took his full cock into my mouth and devoured it. About five minutes later, his moans quieted down; I raised my head and saw that the fool had fallen asleep from Mama's sleeping pills that I'd crushed earlier and put in his tea. I got up off my knees and wiped my mouth. I pulled out the big butcher knife that I'd taken out of the cabinet earlier and stood over him. I put it to his chest, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Tears filled my eyes as I turned to leave, but rage developed inside of me. I turned back around, grabbed his cock and made a clean cut. He woke up screaming bloody murder as he lunged toward me.

"You little bitch! Come here, I'm going to kill you!" he yelled.

I dropped the lifeless cock on the rug and ran as fast as I could. Mama heard the commotion and came out.

I locked myself in my room until I heard the police banging on my door. I opened it, still shaking from seeing all that blood. Deep down, I was happy he was cock-less and that he wouldn't be forcing that shit inside of me anymore.

The police questioned me. That was when I broke down and told them about how Daddy had been fucking me for years. I was only twelve years old and had no charges brought against me because Mama surprised everyone and backed up my story. The authorities ordered me to undergo mental health counseling, however. I heard they were not able to put his cock back into place, so it was safe to say that that bastard wouldn't be fucking another helpless child.

Mama divorced him and we moved from White Plains to Mount Vernon, a neighboring city.

I graduated from high school and went on to nursing school, eventually getting my license as a registered nurse.

My life as a woman would never be the same and men would soon realize that I, Destiny Clarke, was not to be fucked with. Welcome to my world, where you will respect me or get the hell out.

Hassan Clarke

Man, I wasn't goin' lie — ever since I was born, I'd felt like I was God's blessing to these bitches. I wasn't conceited or nothing like that, but I had the looks, my tongue game was fire, and God blessed me with a big dick that most women would kill for. I learned early on from my pops that if you eat that pussy up and lay the dick on her, she would appreciate you and do whatever it is that you wanted her to do. I watched as Mama washed, cooked, and cleaned the house every day and all Pops had to do was fuck her good. I knew that when I grew up I wanted to be just like my pops.

I'd always kept a bad bitch by my side. Don't get me wrong when I say bad: she had to have her own place and her own damn money. I wasn't into the business of tricking on no ho. My dick game was so mean, these bitches always had to pay me to come over and fuck them.

See, I wasn't no bum-ass nigga, I kept a job. I knew that I had to have a backup plan, just in case one of these bitches got to tripping. I was happy when I landed the job at the hospital. Shit, a year earlier I had taken a certified nursing assistant class and got my certification. I didn't mind cleaning up after a muthafucka because my goal was to save up enough money to pay for law school. Yes, you heard right — law school. I'd always had a mouthpiece that could get me out of any situation. Mama always said I would make a great lawyer. I agreed because I done talked myself out of many sticky situations before, especially when I got caught cheating.

*
I was tired of fucking the bitches around the way. Don't get me wrong, these hood bitches kept a wet pussy and had a mean head game. Shit, most of the bitches I fucked with could cook up a good meal, the kind of meals that kept a nigga coming back for more. But all that shit wasn't enough.; I wanted more. Matter of fact, I wanted a "professional woman." The ones that owned their home, drove a nice car, and had a degree in some kind of shit. Yes, that was my definition of a bad bitch. I didn't even care if she had good pussy or not. I had some hood bitches with that wet-wet.

God must've been listening to me because as soon as I started working at the hospital, I laid eyes on one of the nurses. Man, bad little bitch. Nice shape, fat ass, and cute face. At first, I kind of blew it off. I thought there was no way I could pull this one off. That feeling soon disappeared and I was back to my usual self.

I started slowly. I didn't want to seem too thirsty. I gave her little nods here and there. I smiled at her and was always polite. I was reeling her in before I went in for the kill. At first this bitch behaved like she was too good for this kid, but I paid it no mind. I knew it was only a matter of time before I got up in them panties.

CHAPTER 2

Destiny Clarke

I met Hassan when I was working at Westchester Medical Center as a registered nurse. He was a nurse's aide on the floor that I worked on. He was a handsome brother, but definitely not the type I would've dated. Nothing stood out about him to me; besides, his occupation was to clean shit. This meant he got about ten dollars an hour — pocket change that could barely buy one of my purses. My pussy was high maintenance, so he needed more than that little job to keep me satisfied. I worked every day to make sure I maintained a certain lifestyle, so I wasn't a gold digger, but I wasn't a fool, either. I wanted a man with a big cock and some damn money in his pocket.

Nevertheless, I could tell he was flirting with me, always complimenting me on my looks. I remained polite, making sure I never crossed that line with him. But he was persistent and I had an idea that this fool wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

One day, while walking to my car, I heard some fool hollering my name. I turned around and saw it was Hassan.

"Ms. Destiny, hold on a minute. Lemme rap with you real quick." He jogged toward me.

I stopped in my tracks and mumbled under my breath, "What the fuck does this fool want?" I wanted to get the hell home after working a twelve-hour shift. My damn feet were killing me and I was not in no mood to entertain a man.

"How may I help you?" I tried to sound polite.

"Ms. Destiny, you know I've been feeling you. You know, you are everything that a man could ever want in a woman." He grinned, displaying his set of pearly whites.

I placed my hand on my hip and gave him a look that said, "Cut the bullshit out. What the fuck you really want?"

"You just goin' stand there and not respond? Dang, give a brother a break."

"Hassan, how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-four, but I'm a grown man."

"I bet you are, but I'm not looking for a man. Furthermore, you're still a baby and I am no damn babysitter. You know what I mean?" I said and proceeded to walk off.

"Damn. That was harsh. You must've been with the wrong kind of man. I am a different breed. Trust me. You'll see. I promise, I'm going to show you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't have a man nor am I looking for one. I am fine just by myself."

"Damn Ma, I just want to take you out on one date. If you don't like it, then I'll leave you alone. I promise." He looked at me with his big brown eyes.

I felt something inside of me shiver. I wasn't looking for a relationship, and definitely not with a boy, but here he was, asking me for a date. Shit — I might as well, I thought. I was tired of always being alone in the house. I was a workaholic and when I wasn't at the hospital, I was home. Every other weekend my childhood girlfriend Amiya and I would usually go out for dinner and drinks. That summed it up for my personal life. I hadn't had any cock in a while and I was getting tired of fucking myself.

"All right, we can go on one date. But trust me, if you step out of line, I will fuck you up. You hear me?" I warned.

"Hold up! It's only a date. You behaving like we about to get hitched or something," he said, and we busted out laughing.

We exchanged numbers and scheduled the date for the following weekend, my day off. He walked off in full speed like he'd just hit the jackpot.

I shook my head as I walked off, entered my Chrysler 300, and drove off. I smiled to myself, I see I still have it, I thought. Boy, this little nigga didn't know what I had in store for him.

*
Our date night was approaching and since I hadn't been around a man in the past year, I was a little excited. I couldn't lie — I missed getting fucked on the regular, but I preferred to fuck myself, rather than settle for these low, lying-ass men running around NY. I deserved to be treated as a queen.

I heard my phone ringing while I was cleaning up. Hassan was on the line when I picked up.

"Hello Hassan, how are you?"

"Hello Ms. Destiny. I just wanted to know if you could pick me up?"

"Huh?" I asked to make sure I heard right.

"My cousin was supposed to give me a ride to the diner, but he cancelled at the last minute. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind. Give me your address." I took the address and hung up the phone.

I lied. I did mind. This nigga didn't have a car. What the fuck! I wondered if he lived with his mama too. Oh hell no, he definitely was not my kind of man. I wasn't a taxi service and I won't be driving this fool around. I should've cancelled our date, but something about him seemed intriguing.

*
I drove to Fourth Street to pick him up. I was shocked to see him walk out of a house with the paint almost gone on the outside and that appeared to be abandoned. I watched as he walked toward the car. He had cleaned up pretty well. I guess he was trying to impress me and it paid off because when he got in the car and sat down, I wanted to reach over and tongue him down. I was a lady however, so I contained myself.

Our first date went well. I thought I'd have to pay for our meal, but he covered it. He was also a gentleman, opening the car door for me and everything. These were small things, but they meant a lot to me.

I pulled up in front of his building and stopped. I noticed he sat there, looking at me.

"Well, thanks for dinner. I really enjoyed myself. You are pretty cool."

"So this is it? The night is still young. Come up. Let's watch a movie or something."

My mind was telling me no, but my heart was telling me yes. I had to admit it; my pussy was begging to go.

"All right, let me park, but you better not be on no slick shit."

"Man, don't do that. I'm a standup dude. If you ain't giving me the pussy, I don't want it."

"Mm hmm," I said, and got out of the car.

I was nervous going up in his apartment, but I had my mace on my keychain, so I was ready in case anything happened.

He lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, but you could tell that he was a neat freak because nothing was out of place — you know my nosey ass was paying attention to everything. He poured me a glass of cheap wine and took out a Heineken for himself. We sat on the couch in the living room, talking about all kind of things. He kept pouring wine and I kept drinking. It didn't take long for me to start feeling the buzz. I felt good, so I lay across the couch and placed my legs on him.

"Come here," he pulled me up toward him.

"Why, what you doing?"

"Nothing, just want you close to me."

"Boy, this our first date."

"So what, we're grown. There are no special rules."

I didn't fight it. Truth was I loved the feeling. He picked me up and took me to his bedroom. He stood me up, even though I could barely stand on my feet. He went up under my dress and unsnapped my bra, dropping it to the ground. His hands sent an electric sensation through my body as they ran down and removed my panties. I was flooding with a year of backed-up pussy juice. I put his finger in my passion hole and afterward he put it to his lips and licked it clean. Honestly, all I could think of was his cock entering me. Instead, he got on his knees, spread my legs, and started licking my pussy from the back to the front. I held on tight to the bedpost and the wall as I groaned out in ecstasy. It was the best feeling ever and I wanted to yell as he dug his tongue into my hole. I screamed louder, wanting him to fuck me.

"Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes, I love it, please fuck me," I pleaded.

He didn't pay me any mind. Instead, he placed my legs above his shoulder and sucked harder on my clit, holding it hostage for a while. I couldn't contain myself; I had multiple orgasms as I released all the backed-up cum that was inside of me. I was ready to get fucked, but he didn't seem to want to. He let me down and placed me back on the bed.

"What the fuck, you don't want this pussy?"

"I do, but not yet. Tonight was just a little something to let you know I'm feeling you. I'm trying to make you my woman. Straight up."

"I understand that, but my pussy is on fire. You going to leave me hanging?" I asked.

"Destiny, I would love to fuck you, but I want more from you. See, I could get pussy on the regular, but you're so much more than a fuck. I want you, woman."

(Continues…)



Excerpted from "My Husband's Mistress"
by .
Copyright © 2017 Racquel Williams.
Excerpted by permission of Urban Books, LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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My Husband's Mistress: Renaissance Collection 3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 1 reviews.
Anonymous 8 months ago
It was okay, but the heroine who was supposed to be so strong, was weak and crying all the time. No matter how nuh he dogged her out she stayed regardless of other women and stds she cried but stayed. There was really no comeuppance for him, he just got away with everything, even though there was a revenge plan. It just ended with no ending