Desire: A Contemporary Romance Box Set

by R. R. Banks

  Make her mine.

  And complete our family.

  Will I get my family or is one night all I’ll have forever?

  Chapter One

  Beatrice

  “I’m not wearing a thong and bra in public no matter how much fake fur you glue to it.”

  “I’ve taken your laundry out of the dryer before. I hold it in good authority that you wear thongs in public all the time.”

  I glared at my roommate as she reached for her hot glue gun again and continued adding patches of black faux fur to her own barely-existent panties.

  “Under clothing, Nia. I wear thongs under clothing. Oddly enough, the same thing goes for my bras. I’m funny like that with underwear.”

  “Oh, come on, Bea. It’s Halloween. Loosen up a little.”

  I hated that she called me Bea. It made me feel like I should be wearing shoulder pads and eating cheesecake.

  “I am loosened,” I argued. “I agreed to go to your party this year, didn’t I?”

  “Only after I held it over your head for the last two years and started my unrelenting campaign of persuasion in June.”

  She means nagging.

  “The point is, I’m going. I will finally bear witness to the famous Nia Johnson Halloween Extravaganza. But I’m still not wearing a fur-covered thong and calling myself a koala.”

  “A sexy koala.”

  “Koalas aren’t sexy. They are furry little grey marsupials that eat eucalyptus.”

  “So, toss a breath mint in their mouths and they’ll smell like your linen spray. It doesn’t matter. They’re adorable, and on Halloween anything that is adorable can be turned into something sexy. That’s just how it works.”

  “Not with me. I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years and the last time that I did I was wondering which costume would get me the most candy from my neighbors.”

  “Well, now you get to decide what costume is going to get you the most treats from the sexy men that are coming to my party,” Nia said with a mischievous smile.

  “Sexy?” I asked. “Does that mean that they are dressing up like koalas, too?”

  She shot me a glare that rivaled my own.

  “No,” she said. “These are some of the very powerful, very handsome, and very eligible men who frequent the hotel.”

  In this instance I could only assume “eligible” was Nia’s codeword for wealthy. The hotel where she worked specifically catered to those with discerning tastes. That only worked to make me further question why any of them would want to come to the bawdy, decidedly unsophisticated Halloween bash my roommate was known for and where I knew she was hoping to rope one of them in. I wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as she was. The truth was that I rarely went out of the house, wore clothing that actually covered most of my skin, and used thongs only for the purpose for which they were designed – allowing me to wear close-fitting pants and skirts at work without falling victim to the ultimate shame of the visible panty line. All of this added to distinctly less excitement for the upcoming party that Nia was having, but I had already committed to attending this year. We had gone through ideas for several costumes, and so far, koala was the frontrunner.

  “I am not putting my ass on display in front of men I don’t know, even if you make me mittens and furry ears to accompany it.”

  Nia let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Then what’s your idea? Because you have to have a costume. It’s absolutely required.”

  Somehow, I didn’t see her enforcing that rule on the men she had invited, requiring them to don plastic super hero suits or construction worker outfits that would put the Village People to shame.

  “I was thinking I could be a bee.”

  Nia looked at me like I said that I was going to dress as Halloween itself.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “No one named Bea is allowed to dress as a bee,” she said with all the authority of someone quoting a historic treaty.

  “Well, that’s good, then, because my name’s not Bea.”

  “Look, Mrs. Potter, you’re not wearing stripes and running around my apartment buzzing at people.”

  I didn’t know if I should commend her for knowing that there was a Potter of relevance before Harry, or if I should correct her for apparently not knowing that person’s name. I went with correcting.

  “Bea-trix,” I said. “Her name is Beatrix.”

  “That’s so much better,” Nia said. “Your name should be Beatrix.”

  “You know what? I’ll just go right on back in time and let my parents know to make that little tweak. Be back in a bit.”

  I started for the door, intending on hiding in my section of the house that I shared with Nia and one other woman until November.

  “Fine,” Nia said. “You don’t have to be a koala. But you aren’t going as a bee, either. We’ll figure something out.” She glanced at her phone to check the time. “You want to run to the grocery store with me? I want to grab a few things for the party.”

  “It’s midnight,” I said.

  She shrugged.

  “So?”

  **

  There’s something almost unsettling about the glowing interior of a 24-hour grocery store in the middle of the night that always makes me a bit hesitant before I go inside them after a certain hour. There wasn’t anything like this back home and even though I had been living what my grandfather would call a highfalutin life out where such wonders were commonplace for a few years now, I still wasn’t entirely accustomed to them. The doors sliding open always felt just a shade too much like I was being lured into something that looked like it was holding promises of fabulous things, but was really only holding mischief and mayhem…and calories.

  “I love midnight grocery shopping,” Nia said as the sliding doors parted before her and light that should have been accompanied by angels singing burst out toward us.

  Of course, you do.

  I blinked against the sudden contrast between the vibrant light and the darkness that we had been walking through in the parking lot as I stepped inside the store. The floors were shimmering from a new layer of wax that had just been put down by those hopeful workers who I felt must go into their shifts each night hoping that no one will do something as nonsensical as shop for groceries in the middle of the night and ruin all of the hard work that creates approximately 10 minutes of pristine perfection in the store. I had the compulsion to take off my shoes and slide down the cereal aisle in my socks, and knew that the craftiness of the 24-hour store was getting to me. I had to wonder what had happened in our society that created a need that could only be filled with the ever-present availability of high fat snack foods, high fiber cereals, and a fully-stocked pharmacy section.

  I watched as Nia gathered several bags of Halloween candy from the towering display at the front of the store and then headed directly for a nearby table filled with pumpkin spice cake rolls, cookies, and all other means of autumnal sweets. It was that time of year when the combination of gourd, cinnamon, and nutmeg rose up and tried to take over all of civilization. I was fairly certain if I looked long enough I would find pumpkin spice dental floss and edible underwear. Possibly not in the same store, but likely similar customer bases.

  Nia grabbed an armful of the sweets and then headed for the doors again, coming back with a cart so she could manage more of a haul.

  “You want me to eat all of that and also wear three threads short of nothing to your party?” I asked.

  “Is this a party that anyone is invited to?”

  A slick, hinting voice from behind me made my stomach roll slightly. Nia glanced over my shoulder then at me, her expression incredulous.

  “Are you serious?” Nia whispered, but my eyes were closed as I shook my head, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t really happening. “Is this guy actually trying to pick you up?”

  Taking a resolute breath, I turned to face the dark, perpetually slumbering eyes that ma
de me feel instantly self-conscious and brought a sharp pain into the middle of my chest.

  “Hello,” I said.

  A familiar, tugging feeling in my gut made me blush and scold my biological makeup for its shameless reaction to the man that was staring at me. The pain should be enough to take away that feeling, but it wasn’t. It was there, just like it always was, and I hated myself for it.

  “Hi, there.” Gregory’s eyes scanned my body. “Are you heading home or just going out?”

  “Home.”

  How could he do this to me? How could he fucking do this to me? Just go away.

  “Want some company?”

  Why now? Why not three years ago?

  Nia gasped, then became deeply engrossed in an investigation of the seasonal desserts.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him, looping an arm through Nia’s and pulling her closer, “I’m having a slumber party tonight. No boys allowed.”

  Gregory laughed the laugh that used to melt me and approached me. Cupping a hand around my face he leaned down to kiss me. His lips felt like they seared mine, bringing tears to my eyes and the same sick feeling to my belly. I had to fight the reaction that rushed up within me, not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the store. He brought his mouth to my ear, close enough that I could feel his breath on me as he spoke.

  “I’m jealous,” he whispered and walked away.

  I restrained myself long enough for Gregory to get out of the aisle before flailing around like a cat climbing out of water, trying to shake away the feeling of his eyes, his hand, his lips.

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Nia asked, sharply depositing another box of pumpkin pastry into the cart. She stared at me and then in the direction Gregory had sauntered for a second before adding a container of caramel and another bag of candy. “Did that man seriously just do that? I’ve spent three months planning a Halloween party in hopes of getting a little bit of trick or treat action, you don’t even want to go to it, and you still get a guy just ringing the hell out of your doorbell. Are you wearing some sort of neon ‘open’ sign that is only visible to men? And, if so, can I get the dealer’s number?”

  With that Nia snatched a bag of licorice and started with a resolute stride toward a rack of fudge sauce she likely had plans for that I didn’t want to know about. I sincerely wished that there was some way that I could transfer any of the attention to her. That way I wouldn’t have to deal with him and maybe she would consider canceling the Halloween party before I had to go to it. Of course, that would mean that she would be afflicted by Gregory, and that’s not something I would wish on an enemy, much less a friend.

  “That was not a new one,” I assured her, picking my shoe up off the floor where my convulsions had flung it, “That was Gregory.”

  Nia stopped and peered over her shoulder at me. A sympathetic look had taken over the angry glare.

  “Oh, that was Gregory.”

  I looked at her painfully and stuffed my foot back in the shoe, nodding. We headed out the aisle, both of us moving a bit faster as if needing to get out of the environment tainted by his presence.

  “So, you never told me the entire Gregory saga,” Nia said a few minutes later.

  We had finished scavenging for provisions and were moving toward the check-out lines.

  “Nor will I,” I responded, not looking at my roommate.

  “Oh, come on. That is not fair. I have told you all the details of my sordid love life.”

  I slid my eyes over to Nia, my eyebrows raised.

  “Ok, I’ve told you all the details of my moderately interesting, semi-existent love life,” she rushed through the words as though she didn’t really want to admit to them. “But all the sordid ones of my imaginary love life,” she finished emphatically.

  “Alright, I know, but Gregory…” I paused, flipping through a few glossy pages of my mental scrapbook. “I don’t really think it’s the same situation. You know the essentials. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “Fine, but one of these days…”

  Nia was cut off by me grabbing her and yanking her behind a display of books. The junk food she had taken out of the cart to put on the self-checkout station slid and Nia juggled it for a few seconds before regaining control.

  “What happened?”

  I gestured for her to be quiet and pointed toward the row of cash registers ahead of us. Nia assumed a convincing mission-impossible stance and gazed around the white metal shelves of paperbacks to where I had pointed. At the register, three down from where we hunched, Gregory had his arms wrapped around a giggling, well-augmented blonde, his face buried in her neck. The cashier was swiping a rather scandalous array of purchases while simultaneously trying to keep down her dinner.

  This. THIS is why 24-hour grocery stores are a murky place.

  “Ewwww,” Nia said in evaluation.

  “Yeah. That chick probably has Mattel imprinted on the bottom of her foot.”

  Nia nodded in agreement then glanced back around the corner. Suddenly she pushed back against me, shoving me towards the back of the square book area.

  “He’s coming!”

  I grabbed the nearest book and buried my nose in it. I peered over the top of the book and watched as Nia looked around for a few frantic seconds, noted the food in her arms, and turned her back. I rose up on my toes slightly to look over the white racks of books, trying to find where Gregory had gone. He was standing a few yards away in a pharmacy aisle.

  “That is so ghetto, Bea, look, this says ‘Fo Tracey’, can you believe that? Oh, wait, never mind, there’s the ‘r’. It was under the price sticker.”

  I could hear Nia whispering behind me but was too busy watching Gregory to focus on what she was saying. He took a box of Double Lubricated, Ultra-Sensitive, Assorted Flavor, Ribbed for Her Pleasure and Your Reputation, Mentholated, Spermicidal, Extra Strong ‘Cuz You Don’t Know Where She’s Been and She Doesn’t Either, Bonus Glow-in-the-Dark pack condoms, thought for a beat and took another then headed back toward the register. I quickly hid behind the book again, feeling like I was back in high school and hating myself a little bit more for it.

  “Hope they come in small,” I muttered.

  “What?” Nia asked, taking a step backwards to stand beside me.

  “Nothing.”

  I was embarrassed by how childish I was being, hiding from a man and wishing plagues and shrinkage upon his nether-parts, but that was how Gregory affected me. No matter how hard I tried not to be, no matter how hard I tried to just put him behind me once and for all, he seemed not to want to let me recover. Even when I felt like I was getting close to not caring, he would appear again, trying to lure me back into him just for his amusement. I waited for as long as I thought it would take for him to make his purchases, scoop up that night’s acquisition, and leave the traumatized cashier before relaxing. For the first time I looked at the book I had been using as a shield.

  “What are you reading?” Nia whispered, still staring at the far wall.

  I elbowed her.

  “It’s ok, I think he’s gone.” Nia turned around. “It’s a book of a zillion and eight baby names,” I told her, scanning the list I had opened to. “Maybe a new name will inspire me.”

  “Inspire you for what?” Nia asked.

  “The new identity that I’m going to create for myself.”

  Nia sighed as we made our way back toward the cart of goodies that we had abandoned running away from Gregory.

  “What the hell did this guy do to you?” she asked.

  “You know very well what he did to me,” I said, not wanting to elaborate on it.

  “No. I know that he left you. Again, you’ve never told me the whole story.”

  “And again, I’m not going to. It’s not something that I like to talk about.”

  “Well, whatever it is, I can’t believe that it could be anything bad enough that it still does this to you years later.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean
?” I snapped. “You think that I’m just being dramatic?”

  “No,” Nia said, shaking her head. “Just the opposite. You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever known and I can’t imagine anyone being able to do this to you. I know heartbreak. I get it. But it was years ago. You’re a grown ass woman now, with your own life, your own everything. Why let him still have this hold on you? He has you dangling. I just watched him come up to you in the middle of a grocery store and totally take over your mind. He had you wrapped around his little finger.”

  “No, he didn’t,” I argued.

  “Really? Then why didn’t you just walk away from him?”

  Damn. Told.

  “I just feel like I can’t get myself away from him. He completely messed me up.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way, Bea. You let him talk to you like that and actually kiss you, then he waltzes out of here with some tricked out bimbo and you did nothing.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” I asked.

  “Throw things at him. Hit him in the backs of the knees with the cart and then run over him. Jump over the cash register and tackle him. Shame him for his bedroom prowess. There’s a plethora of options. It’s really up to your personal style.”

  “Well,” I said, not really sure why I was choosing to admit this but feeling like I couldn’t stop myself now. “I don’t really have the necessary information to shame him for his bedroom prowess.”

  Nia stopped and stared at me.

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  “I don’t really have ---”

  “No, no – I heard you. I just…. really?”

  I sighed.

  “Really.”

  At 21, being a virgin wasn’t something that I frequently talked about. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I was ashamed of it, but I also wasn’t going to splash it across the front of a T-shirt and wear it on all of my outings. It wasn’t the best conversation starter.

  “So, you’re letting a guy who you’ve never even had sex with still totally control your life?” Nia asked.

  Well, damn. It sounds really bad when you put it like that.