Caught in the act

Jane hesitated. The pleasure was undeniable, intoxicating even, yet something inside her held back. She loved how he made her feel, but was this really what she wanted?

Fredrick's jaw tightened at her silence, his patience wearing thin. Without another word, he slid his fingers inside her again, moving with unrelenting precision. She gasped, her body responding instantly, her breathing ragged as waves of sensation washed over her.

As her moans filled the room, he hastily unfastened his belt, pulling down his pants. His desire for her had reached its peak, and he was done waiting. He positioned himself, guiding himself to her, his grip firm on her hips.

Jane cried out, her hands clutching his shirt, her body trembling at the overwhelming sensation. "Oh no… what are we doing?" she whimpered, though her moans told a different story as she instinctively moved in rhythm with him.

Fredrick groaned, his movements steady and deep. "I'm close… don't stop, baby. Please," Jane pleaded, her voice breaking with urgency.

He felt himself nearing the edge, his breaths ragged, his control slipping. Just as he was about to let go, a sudden, sharp knock echoed against the door.

Jane jumped up immediately, fear jolting through her. Her wide eyes darted to Fredrick, then down to herself—she was half-naked. The reality of the situation crashed over her like a wave. Just moments ago, she had been lost in pleasure, teetering on the edge of release, but now, all traces of excitement vanished.

Frantically, she reached for her underwear, pulling it up with trembling hands. Her gaze darted around the room in search of her bra. Spotting it, she grabbed it hastily, hooking it back in place before slipping her shirt over her head. As she straightened up, her eyes unintentionally landed on Fredrick's still-protruding manhood. Her breath hitched at the sight before she quickly looked away.

"Put on some clothes—someone's at your door," Jane whispered urgently, her voice barely above a breath.

Fredrick, however, remained unfazed. "Stop panicking," he murmured, reaching for her waist, his grip firm. "No one can walk through that door without my permission. Let's continue… I'm still up, and I still need you." His tone was laced with longing, his body unwilling to let the moment slip away.

Another knock echoed through the room.

"Sir, your mother is coming in," his secretary's voice called from outside.

Jane's heart stopped. "What? Your mother?" she whispered, eyes widening in horror.

Fredrick's entire demeanor shifted in an instant. He swiftly pulled up his boxers and yanked his pants into place, fastening them hurriedly. Jane, equally frantic, tugged her shirt down, smoothing it over her body as she attempted to compose herself.

Before either of them could fully recover, the door swung open.

"Oh my—what is going on here?" Fredrick's mother gasped, her sharp eyes landing on Jane with unmistakable disapproval.

Her nose crinkled as she stepped inside. "This room reeks of sweat," she said, her gaze darting between the two of them. "What exactly have you two been up to?"

Fredrick and Jane stood frozen, completely speechless.

His mother's patience wore thin. "Am I not speaking to human beings?" she snapped, her voice edged with irritation.

Jane swallowed hard, forcing out the only words she could manage. "Good morning, ma," she greeted, her voice small and uncertain.

Fredrick, quickly regaining his composure, put on an air of nonchalance. "Morning, Mom. What brings you here? You didn't even tell me you were coming," he said smoothly, dodging her accusations with a question of his own, pretending as if everything was perfectly normal.

He tried to hide the bulge on his pants, but his mother was sharp and enough to see that he had been up to no good.

Laughing in disgust, Fredrick's mother sneered. "Shut up and button up your shirt properly," she commanded, her voice dripping with disdain.

Fredrick felt the weight of her words settle in. He knew he had been caught—there was no pretending anymore, not in front of his mother.

He stood frozen, watching her as she walked toward them, dropping her bag onto the couch with a thud.

Her gaze turned cold as she assessed Jane, who stood in an awkward, embarrassed silence. "And you—what are you still doing here? Should I help you find the door?" she spat, her tone sharp.

Without another word, Jane quickly grabbed her bag, her movements rushed. She turned to walk past Fredrick's mother, but just as she reached the doorway, his mother's voice stopped her.

"Wait!"

Jane froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest.

"You look so familiar," his mother said, her voice cold but curious. "Aren't you one of the daughters of Mr. Johnson?"

Jane felt a rush of panic flood over her, her mind racing for a response. What was she supposed to do now? Lie or confess the truth? The weight of her situation pressed down on her, the embarrassment overwhelming.

The last thing she wanted today was exactly what was unfolding before her—being caught in a lie by Fredrick's mother. And there he was, standing silently, like a mama's boy, not saying a word.

Ye…es, I am," she spoke in a very low tone.

"Young lady, I didn't hear a word you just said!" Fredrick's mother scolded, her sharp voice cutting through the tense silence.

Jane hesitated, lowering her gaze to avoid the piercing stare of Fredrick's mother, whose arms were now folded tightly across her chest in clear impatience. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to speak louder. "Yes, ma, I am," she managed, her voice carrying more weight this time.

"Wow, this is indeed surprising," Fredrick's mother said, a smirk playing on her lips as she let her eyes slowly assess Jane from the roots of her hair to the tips of her shoes. "What would Mr. Johnson's daughter be doing with my son?"

The way she emphasized those words made Jane's stomach tighten. She knew this wasn't a genuine question—it was a statement filled with condescension.

"Hmm, well, you can leave. I need to talk to my son," the woman added in a suddenly harsh tone, her warm smile vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Jane swallowed hard. She could feel her face burning with embarrassment. Lowering her head in shame, she turned and slowly walked out of the office, each step heavy with humiliation.

As she closed the door behind her, she lingered for a moment in the hallway, her mind spinning. She replayed the entire scene over and over, each time feeling a deeper sting of disgrace. The way Fredrick had sat there in silence, not even attempting to defend her or ease the tension, gnawed at her. Could he really be relied upon? Could he truly help her when it mattered most?

He was just so dull for her liking—so frustratingly passive. But she didn't care. He had made a promise, and whether he wanted to or not, he would have to keep his end of the bargain.

Her hands clenched into fists as she turned on her heels. Angrily, she walked away, her heart pounding with a mix of fury and determination.

"You idiot! What are you doing with those low-lives?" Fredrick's mother scolded, her voice laced with disgust as she glared at him.

"Mom, you need to calm down. It's not what you think," Fredrick said, attempting to pacify her, but Mrs. Lugard—his ever-skeptical mother—wasn't buying a single word of his excuse.

Her piercing gaze never wavered as she took a slow step back toward the plush cushion where she had been sitting. Lowering herself gracefully, she crossed her legs and folded her arms, still watching him intently. "What's going on between the two of you?" she demanded, her tone sharp with authority. She knew her son too well—Fredrick was never good at keeping things from her.

"Fredrick!" she called his name again, this time more forcefully.

He exhaled heavily, shaking his head in frustration. The weight of her expectations pressed down on him like a boulder. Rising from his seat, he took slow steps toward her and bent slightly to meet her gaze.

"Mom, you don't need to worry so much," he said, forcing a smile onto his face, though it felt painfully unnatural. "Don't let it bother you, alright? We were just passing time."

Even as he spoke, he wasn't sure why he was covering for Jane. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He just knew he couldn't let his mother find out about his deal with her—because if she did, she would do everything in her power to ruin Jane and her family's reputation.

Mrs. Lugard watched him carefully, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "Well, just keep your distance from her," she said, her tone shifting to something almost playful. "I want you to go for the other sister."

Her expression turned sly, her smile brimming with mischief.

"What's going on between the two of you?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion as she walked back to the plush cushion. Lowering herself gracefully onto the seat, she crossed her legs, her sharp eyes never leaving Fredrick, silently demanding an answer. She knew her son too well—he was not one to keep secrets from her, at least not successfully.

"Fredrick!" she called his name again, this time with an unmistakable edge of anger.

He let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head before rising from his seat. With slow, deliberate steps, he walked toward her and bent slightly, meeting her gaze.

"Mom, you don't need to worry too much," he said, forcing a casual tone as he attempted to downplay the situation. "Don't let it bother you, alright? We were just passing time." He pushed a fake smile onto his face, hoping it would be enough to satisfy her.