Essence of Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  He glanced at his watch. In a few minutes the pastor would be coming for them when it was time for the ceremony to begin. Roxie hadn’t gotten pregnant from his slip-up that night, and instead of going to the drug store, they had made love and later that day he had taken her to the jewelry story for an engagement ring.

  Together that night they had called Colt who claimed he wasn’t surprised. It seemed he hadn’t been totally clueless since he’d picked up on the heated glances they’d exchanged at Aunt Bessie’s birthday party. Both sets of parents had been stunned and his in particular were elated and throwing out hints more so than ever that they wanted grandkids. They hadn’t told anyone but they had decided to start off their wedding not using any type of birth control. They wanted to start a family as soon as possible.

  During the past year he had flown to Summerlin practically every weekend to see her or to fly her back to Orlando with him. After the wedding he was looking forward to his jet flying them to Jamaica for their honeymoon.

  “It’s time, Robert.”

  Robert glanced over at Colt. He couldn’t help but smile when he said. “No, it’s past time and I’m ready to claim my bride.”

  ***

  High in the clouds over the Atlantic Ocean in Robert’s jet, after stripping each other naked, the newlyweds lay in bed wrapped in each others arms while sipping champagne from the same glass. “The wedding was beautiful wasn’t it?” Roxie asked her husband, cuddling closer to him.

  “Yes, it was a beautiful wedding and you were a beautiful bride.” And he meant it. Seeing her walk down the aisle to him on her father’s arms, dressed in a beautiful white bridal gown had brought tears to his eyes. He was a very happy man.

  “Are we going to make love again before we get to Jamaica?” she asked.

  He couldn’t help but grin. “Do you want to do it again?”

  “Of course. Besides, you’re due for another makeover.”

  He lifted a brow. “I am?”

  She laughed. “Yes.”

  “If you think so then who am I to argue?”

  He let her have her way with him, and why not when she was and would always be the only woman for him. “Now to make sure all your tools are still working properly,” she said smiling at him.

  To prove they were, he took her with an urgency that he felt all the way to his toes and when she adjusted to his pace, wrapped her legs around him to lock him inside her body, he leaned down and captured her lips as their bodies settled into the most rapturous mating rhythm there could ever be. Every thrust sent her body into overdrive, stimulated her pores and sensitized every nerve ending.

  And when they both became overwhelmed with sensations that were so strong they could barely breathe, they clung to each other, rode the waves of ecstasy, and soared to another hemisphere. Later when they were able to come back down to earth, too sated from making love to move, they fell asleep holding each other in their arms and believing they were the happiest couple in the world.

  Mainly because they truly were.

  TRULY EVERLASTING

  This story is dedicated to everyone to enjoy reading about the Madaris Family.

  The Lord’s blessing is our greatest wealth. And he adds not sorrow with it.

  Proverbs 10:22

  (Taken from the Living Bible)

  One

  It seemed everyone had been invited to welcome the guest of honor back to Houston. As far as those present were concerned, Trask Maxwell had been away from home too long.

  The attendees had followed Trask’s football career, which had begun in high school, then later escalated during his college years at Texas Southern, where he had been the recipient of the Heisman Trophy for three consecutive years. After college he had remained in Houston to play professional football for the Houston Texans. He had proven that, when it came to legendary football talent, Houston grew its own.

  After playing for the Texans a number of seasons, Trask had left for Florida to join the Miami Dolphins and later he had played for the Pittsburgh Steelers. It was there in Pittsburgh, nearly two years ago, at the age of thirty-four, in a grueling game against the Denver Broncos, that he had suffered a knee injury that had subsequently ended his football career. By that time, Trask Maxwell had obtained five Super Bowl rings and earned the distinction of being known as the greatest running back in the history of the NFL.

  The people of Houston were proud of “The Max,” the nickname the press had given Trask during his football career. And no matter what team he had played on, they had always supported him because he was one of their own. He was the pride of the city. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was Houston’s favorite son.

  Across the room Trask Maxwell stood with a group of friends discussing their favorite topic—football—and his new job as sports commentator on Monday Night Football. His attention, drawn away from the conversation swirling around him, went dead center to the woman who had just arrived.

  He frowned. No woman could rub him the wrong way like Felicia Laverne Madaris…or whatever last name she was using these days after her two failed marriages.

  Trask released a heavy sigh. He shook his head, wondering how in the world Felicia had managed to snag the first husband, not to mention the second, with her wild and reckless lifestyle as well as her razor-sharp tongue. He deliberately dismissed the fact that she was a gorgeous woman. As far as he was concerned, her beauty didn’t matter. Felicia was trouble with a capital T. She always had been and always would be.

  Her father, Robert Madaris, had been killed during the Vietnam War, before Felicia’s second birthday. The six surviving Madaris brothers had pampered their niece and unselfishly catered to Felicia’s every whim. In other words, they had ultimately spoiled her rotten. So rotten in fact that she had decided that any man she married would have to continue to lavish her with all the nice and expensive things she had grown accustomed to receiving. Thus, Felicia had declared that she would only marry for money.

  And she had done just that, twice.

  Trask tried to remember when the animosity between Felicia and him had actually begun. All he knew was that as far back as elementary school she had been a thorn in his side, a real pain in his rear end. Their inability to get along had gone on for so long that it was something they both accepted and never thought much about. It was a foregone conclusion that whenever they were in the same place, they somehow managed—quite nicely and without very much effort—to get on each other’s nerves.

  “It’s not a good omen for the guest of honor to be caught frowning.”

  Trask’s attention immediately turned to the person who had made the statement. He noticed that he and the host of the party, Clayton Madaris, were now standing alone. Trask didn’t miss the glint of amusement in his best friend’s eyes. “You should have considered the possibility of my frown when you and Syneda put together your guest list,” he said in a deep Texas drawl. Involuntarily, his gaze strayed back across the room to Felicia. He knew that Clayton was aware of just what invited guest he was referring to.

  Clayton shrugged his shoulders, “Felicia’s invitation was automatic. She’s family.”

  “That’s your misfortune, Clayton. For Pete’s sake, man, look at her. I don’t believe the dress she has on.”

  Clayton’s curious gaze settled on his cousin Felicia. She was wearing a clingy black dress that had a slit up the side that revealed a startling amount of thigh--nearly too much thigh. And when she raised her hand in greeting after hearing someone call out to her, it was quite obvious from the deep cut of the dress that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her being braless would not have been an issue if the top portion of her outfit hadn’t been made of sheer material. A tiny scrap of cloth kept her breasts from being completely exposed, and it teased more than it covered.

  Even Clayton was surprised at the brazenness of his cousin’s dress. His wife Syneda owned a number of revealing outfits, but he couldn’t recall anything of Syneda’s that was that daring. He c
leared his throat. “You know Felicia, Trask. The family used to get on her so much about not dressing femininely that now she likes using her clothes to make a statement.”

  Trask shook his head, remembering how Felicia had hated wearing dresses. Growing up, she’d always preferred wearing T-shirts and jeans. “Well, if it was her intent to draw attention to herself, then she has succeeded,” he said curtly as he watched Felicia across the room to join a group of women.

  A wry grin covered Clayton’s mouth as he glanced around the room. “I hate to tell you this, Trask, but you seem to be the only single male here tonight who’s not appreciating her outfit.”

  Trask snorted. “And you of all people know why. Unlike the others, I’m immune to your cousin’s charm.”

  Clayton shook his head. Trask being immune to Felicia’s charm was an understatement. The three of them--Trask, Felicia, and he--had been born the same year, with Trask being older than Clayton by three months and older than Felicia by six. As far back as Clayton could remember, Felicia had always been a tomboy who had followed him and Trask around. That had been fine with him, but their threesome had never fared well with Trask because of Trask’s and Felicia’s overly competitive natures. They competed against each other in everything. Their long-standing rivalry and feud was something their families and friends tolerated and ignored. At least they had ignored it until Felicia’s announcement in the tenth grade that, instead of going out for cheerleading, she wanted to try out for the football team. If Trask could play, then so could she. There was no doubt in her mind that she would play better.

  A huge smiled curved Clayton’s lips at the memory. Felicia’s announcement had prompted her six uncles to step in and squash her athletic plans. It had probably been the first time the six Madaris brothers had unanimously said no to their niece about anything. An angry Felicia had gone out for cheerleading instead. But even from the sidelines, where she was supposed to be cheering for her team--of which Trask was a member--she had managed to dish out a hefty amount of grief to the team’s star player. She had used her position as a cheerleader to constantly rattle and annoy Trask. And it hadn’t stopped in high school. When Clayton and Trask had decided to remain in town and attend Texas Southern, Felicia--to her uncles’ delight, Clayton’s amusement, and Trask’s dismay--made the same decision. That decision had given Trask another four years of Felicia’s continued hassling.

  “Well, one thing is for certain,” Clayton finally said after a few moments of silence between them.

  “What?” Trask asked, raising a dark brow.

  Clayton smiled. “There’s nothing tomboyish about her anymore. She’s made the transition from tomboy to sexy lady extremely well.”

  ***

  Felicia Madaris pretended to be absorbed in the conversation going on around her as she watched Trask out of her peripheral vision. She couldn’t help but smile with a smug amount of satisfaction. He was frowning, which meant her appearance tonight had upset him.

  Good. Let him steam, she thought. He’ll get over it, and if he doesn’t…oh, well.

  Excusing herself from the group of women, she turned and headed toward the table that was loaded with refreshments. As she walked, the side slit in her dress widened with each stride she took, showing a silk-clad thigh and presenting Trask, whom she knew was still watching her, an eyeful.

  Let him look since that seems to be his pleasure lately, Felicia thought. She couldn’t help but remember how hard he had watched her at Trevor and Corinthians Grant’s wedding reception three months ago. It was as if his gaze had been glued to her every movement. She hadn’t liked it then and she didn’t like it now. And just as she was doing tonight, she had completely ignored him.

  He probably wouldn’t like being ignored tonight of all nights, not when he expected everyone to welcome him home with loving arms. And what could be worse than for someone to have a party in his honor and then have one of the guest totally ignore his very existence?

  He would soon find out.

  “Gosh, just look at ‘The Max’. He’s too sexy for words,” Felicia heard a feminine voice say not too far away.

  “Oh, I’ll do just about anything to get his attention,” another feminine voice added.

  Felicia rolled her eyes upward. She was not like some of the other women here tonight whose hearts were going pitter-pat at the thought of being in the same room with Trask and who were hoping he would send some encouraging look their way.

  As Felicia picked a sweet roll drenched in blueberry topping off the table, she couldn’t help but remember why she had decided to ignore Trask again tonight. It had begun five months ago with Clayton and Syneda’s wedding. Both she and Trask had been asked to be a part of the wedding party. Not knowing about her and Trask’s feuding past, Syneda had paired them up as a couple. Felicia had later learned that, when Trask had gotten word that she would be his partner for the wedding ceremony, he had insisted on someone else.

  In all actuality, unknowingly, he had done her a favor since she hadn’t wanted to be paired up with him any more than he’d wanted to be paired with her. However, the thought that he’d had the audacity to complain about it really grated on her last nerve. As far as she was concerned, being a sports celebrity had gone to his head. And if that was the case, then she was just the person to bring him down a notch or two, and she would take great pleasure in doing so.

  ***

  “So how do you like being married?” Trask asked Clayton in an attempt to draw his attention away from the refreshment table and the woman standing beside it.

  “I can’t imagine my life any other way now. There’s never a dull moment with Syneda. She’s all the woman I’ll ever need,” Clayton said, shaking his head. He was still in awe at the depth of his love for a woman with whom he rarely agreed on anything, but she was a woman he couldn’t imagine ever being without.

  “If anyone would have told me how much I’d enjoy being a married man, I would not have believed them,” Clayton added.

  He looked up at Trask and smiled. “Maybe you should try it.”

  “No, thanks. I’ll pass,” Trask replied in a deceptively controlled voice. “I’m still recovering from the fact that Trevor has tied the knot, too,” he said, thinking of his other childhood friend, Trevor Grant, who had also gotten married recently. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the air in this city since it seems that bachelors are dropping like flies around here.”

  Taking Trask’s ribbing in stride, Clayton sipped his wine before responding with a grin, “I don’t know if there’s something in the air, Trask, but I’ve heard there’s a possibility something’s in the soil. So if I were you, I wouldn’t go out tumbling around in the dirt, not even to play a friendly game of football,” Clayton said, chuckling. “I would hate for this thing they call love to get under your skin. And take it from a man who knows, once love gets to you, there’s nothing you can do about it. So beware of Houston’s dirt.”

  Trask was barely listening to his best friend’s words. His attention was once again drawn to Felicia. A guy had approached her at the refreshment table and appeared to be coming on to her. If the man had any sense, Trask thought sympathetically, he would leave the irritating, infuriating, smart-mouth Felicia Madaris alone.

  ***

  The kitchen was crowded with caterers busy at work replenishing the food supply. Felicia acknowledged them as she passed through on her way to the patio. She needed to get a breath of fresh air. The man who had approached her at the refreshment table had nearly talked her ears off. How he had managed to converse nonstop between a mouthful of food had totally amazed her.

  Once she reached the patio she took a deep breath. There was nothing like good Texas air to clear your mind and get the blood circulating. It was nearing the end of November already. It was hard to believe that Thanksgiving was next week, which meant Christmas wasn’t far behind. She smiled when she thought about the approaching holidays. Her four-year-old son, Austin, was eager to begin working
on the Christmas list that he would be sending to Santa.

  “So this is where you ran off to.”

  Felicia whipped around. She was surprised Trask had followed her outside. He had caught her off guard, and she hated being caught off guard by Trask Maxwell.

  “So what’s it to you?” she asked flippantly. He stood leaning against the patio wall with his hands crossed over his chest, eyeing her speculatively. Felicia hated it when he studied her that way, as if she was some type of bug under his microscope.

  Trask shook his head. Felicia was still full of lip and as feisty as ever. Nothing had changed. “I came to make sure you’re all right,” he said smoothly, as he continued to look at her. “The man you were talking to a few minutes ago is Lewis Hunter and he’s loaded. I know how anxious you get when it comes to rich men, so I was curious as to why you let Hunter get away. Even from across the room I could tell he was interested in you.”

  Felicia’s gaze darkened. She was trying hard not to let Trask get on her nerves any more than usual. “The only thing Mr. Hunter was interested in was getting a closer look at my breasts. His eyes were glued to them the entire time he was talking to me.”

  “Hunter must have poor eyesight. With that outfit you’re wearing you don’t need a close-up view. I could see all I wanted to from across the room,” Trask said coolly.

  Felicia had to smile, although it wasn’t a friendly one. “No kidding. You were able to see that much?”

  When Trask nodded, she said, “In that case, you should be able to tell me my bra size.”

  Trask’s gaze traveled downward from her face and locked in on her chest. “You don’t wear bras.”

  Felicia wrinkled her nose at the accuracy of his response. He of all people should know since all through high school she used to complain constantly about having to wear them. She had sworn up and down that when she moved out on her own she would never wear a bra again. And she hadn’t.