Fire & Desire (Hero Series)

by Monique Lamont

  He laughed and signaled the waiter. “We could always make it a two part harmony. Your small part wasn’t so bad. It needs a little fine tuning, but it’s all right for starters.”

  “I’ll work on it.”

  Trevor watched the playful rolling of her eyes.

  You’d better watch yourself, man. She could easily get under your skin.

  Clearing his throat and his thoughts, he asked, “How about a nice walk to digest some of this food?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  ~ML~

  “When was the last time you rode a merry-go-round?” he asked as they came upon the ride in the park at the end of the harbor.

  “I can’t even remember. I think I was twelve.” Excitement danced in her eyes.

  Trevor liked the whimsical smile that graced her lips. He silently admitted to himself there were many things about Tiffany Selina he liked. Trevor felt a slight twinge of delight as Tiffany genuinely smiled. The smile he frequently witnessed her using for the press was so plastic.

  “Would you like to ride it?”

  She hesitated, her features encumbered by indecision. “I think I would.” She turned to him with a radiant smile.

  He walked over to the attendant who appeared to be around sixteen years old. “How much for two tickets on the carousel?”

  “Actually, I was about to close up for the night.” The kid flipped the OPEN sign over on his ticket stand to CLOSED.

  Trevor leaned toward the teen conspiratorially. “Listen,” he whispered, “I have a beautiful woman with me, and it would totally make her night if I could get her a ride on this.”

  He took a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to the kid.

  The teen snatched the twenty and slid it into his front jeans pocket. “Look, I have to catch up with my ride home, but I’ll start it and you can ride until I come back.” The teen shook his head. “My boss will fire me if he finds out I left it unattended and something happened.”

  Trevor raised his right hand toward the kid. “I give you my word I will look out for it.”

  The teen still looked unsure as he held the entrance rope for them, but he nodded his head and let them on.

  “Your chariot awaits.” Trevor assisted Tiffany onto the ride with all the flare of a seventeenth century prince.

  They chose to sit in a carriage type seat with two benches facing each other inside. Their knees brushed as they got comfortable in the small cart.

  It was clear to Trevor the builder probably hadn’t intended it to fit two adults, but they both adjusted to the accommodations of the secluded seat. Covered from any viewing eyes, he and Tiffany looked out at the park as the ride began to twirl.

  “I should be back in a few minutes,” the kid yelled as he jogged away.

  Neither one of them responded to the teen.

  Trevor watched as Tiffany leaned her head back against the wall on her side of the seat, closed her eyes and looked at peace.

  Unwilling to disturb her solitude, he took pleasure in the sight.

  He remembered that her golden brown skin was smooth as cream. A perfect match to her honey speckled eyes. He fantasized about holding and touching her skin, how she tasted and what it was like to align his body with hers for a brief moment. The subtle sent of raspberry she wore was driving him crazy. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want that again, but for a longer period of time.

  With Tiffany’s head tilted as she relaxed, the expansion of her neck appeared available for a lover’s kiss. His eyes continued to travel down her body. Today, she wore a pale orange sundress, which fell in soft folds around her legs, stopping just below her knees. A slight breeze from the moving carousel ruffled her dress. It allowed him to get glimpses of her inner thighs.

  He noticed the smoothness of her legs.

  “Tiffany, would I be out of line in saying that I find you very sexy?”

  Her eyes fluttered, then opened. “Yes, you would.” Something flickered in the depth of her eyes and disappeared.

  He leaned in closer to her. “I mean no offense, but it’s the truth.”

  “Trevor…”

  “What…Tiffany?” He loved saying her name and watching the quick leap of her pulse at the base of her neck. “You can say whatever you want to me. I don’t pull any punches. I just give it as I see it.”

  Tiffany bowed her head briefly, raised her head again and looked at him. “Look, Trevor…I know it’s part of your job to flatter women and make them feel special while they’re with you.”

  He ignored the anger that wanted to rise. “Tiffany, you didn’t hire me, and I’m not on a job. Regardless of what I may or may not do professionally, when I’m on a date—”

  “Trevor, this is not a date. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of what is happening here.”

  Trevor refused to move back and give her space. “So what is happening here, Tiffany? You tell me.”

  She averted her gaze away from him and looked out over the moving view of the park and exhaled. “It’s dinner, Trevor. Just dinner.”

  He reached out with a gentle finger under her chin and brought her face back around to look at him, eliminating any confusion. He was attracted to her. More than he had ever been to anyone.

  “Tiffany, is dinner truly the only thing that is happening here?” Trevor’s finger slowly moved down her neck.

  “Yes…” she uttered.

  “Are you sure?” His finger continued past the modest V-neck of her collar.

  “Trevor, I can’t get caught up in a situation with you.” A pleading tone danced in the texture of her voice.

  He could hear what she was saying and would have been easily convinced, but the trembling he felt from her body told the truth.

  “Too late.” He placed both of his hands lightly on her knees and leaned in until their lips almost connected, his fingers flexed against the silky texture of her skin.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re already there…” He brought their lips together.

  The first few moments of the kiss continued without much participation from Tiffany.

  “Tiffany, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want.” Trevor’s hands began to make seductive circles on her knees where his hands rested. “All you have to do is tell me to stop.”

  Looking her deeply in the eyes as his hands journeyed up her legs. “Say it, Tiffany,” he whispered, then dragged his tongue slowly across her bottom lip. “Tell me to stop…” His hands slid under the edge of her skirt on the side of her thighs.

  Trevor’s memory served him well. Warm satin were the words that came to mind.

  “Trevor…” Tiffany’s hips squirmed on the mini bench seat.

  Their words seemed to entwine themselves in the minute space between their lips.

  “Yes.” His hands ventured around the tops of her thighs, “Want me to stop…” then shifted between her legs and tenderly pushed them apart.

  “Trevor…”

  Leaning away from her mouth, he murmured, “Tiffany, let yourself go…if only for tonight.”

  In the quivering of her voice, her internal battle was evident. He knew he wasn’t playing fair, but he was willing to pull out all the stops to get what he wanted…Tiffany.

  “I can’t.” Shutting her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wall.

  Her lids were squeezed tight, her eyebrows pinched together, making her feelings of defeat clear. Trevor refused to allow her to walk away from their evening together with it.

  “Should I stop then?” He slid a finger beyond the lacy edges of her panties.

  “Trevor…” Shocked, she snapped her legs together and trapped his hand in the middle of them.

  Her wetness bathed his fingers as he caressed the stiffening bud of her desire that yearned to be touched.

  Tiffany’s head rolled along the partition. “Ohhh…”

  “Stop?” he threw out the question one more time, waiting to hear her verbally acknowledge
her decision to let go. Trevor slid the same finger inside her moist heat while his thumb made pressured circles on her clitoris.

  Helplessly, Tiffany spread her legs open wider. “Don’t stop, Trevor, please don’t stop.”

  “With pleasure.”

  He observed the play of emotion across her face in the dim light of the chariot. He briefly thought about all the other times. “No interruptions this time, baby.”

  As if she needed that small amount of encouragement, Tiffany’s hips began to meet his hand play. She bit down on her lip as if to keep the vocal sounds of her enjoyment down, even though her moans permeated the air. Trevor couldn’t be sure, but a big part of him sensed what she experienced was a first for her. It was somehow connected to the complete unguarded rapturous expression on her face. As if she hadn’t learned over the years of experience how to school her features and control her response. A look of pure pleasure.

  He glanced down, the high rise of the hem of Tiffany’s dress around her waist gave him an unobstructed view of her wide spread legs and the recreational activity of his hands. In another place and time, he would’ve been buried deep inside of her, to feel her body quake around his shaft when she reached completion.

  Then he noticed the tremors of her body begin to intensify. He knew the end would be near for her. He adjusted the pressure and rate of his hands and led her toward her peak.

  When the climax finally overtook her, he kissed her. Tiffany’s hands firmly held his head in place, which he assumed was more for support of the shock waves than anything else.

  “Sorry, sir, but I have to lock up now.” The kid yelled from his ticket booth.

  In the dimness of the carriage, they broke apart and Trevor readjusted Tiffany’s clothes and legs as the carousel slowed. Moments later, it came to a stop.

  Assisting an unsteady Tiffany from the ride, he thanked the teenager and they left.

  ~ML~

  On the ride home, she sat in the passenger seat of Trevor’s BMW and felt like crying.

  Once again, Tiffany found herself caught up in the sensual game Trevor so easily played.

  He seemed to respect the fact that she needed time by herself because he turned on the radio and didn’t say anything.

  Part of her wished he would say something, as the Rhythm and Blues artist Anthony Hamilton played softly in the background.

  Staring out of the passenger side window, she wondered what it would be like to have no responsibilities but loving someone.

  Shaking the thought off, she knew that fantasy wasn’t for her. She was Tiffany Selina, the governor’s daughter. Her fate was sealed.

  “Tiffany, we need to talk.”

  The music faded as he turned down the volume.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before turning toward the front of the vehicle.

  “No, we don’t. This whole thing was a mistake from the beginning, and this date just topped it off,” she said in a quiet tone.

  “I don’t agree.”

  “I don’t care. Trevor, why won’t you just end this farce of a marriage? Then we can both go our separate ways.”

  His jaw clenched, but he remained silent.

  “Trevor, you can’t believe this relationship has potential?”

  “Why, would I think of something like you honoring your vows and staying with someone ridiculous?”

  She could see his anger plainly in the way he stared intently out of the front window and tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.

  “Vows? Trevor, I’m not going there again with you.” Tiffany tried to remain calm.

  The returned silence in the car seemed to stretch on forever.

  Trevor exhaled a slow breath. “Look, Tiffany, I’m sorry for getting upset. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know you that well, and you’re probably right. Regardless of what my feelings may be about marriage, this one started off in a way neither of us would have planned. You’re also probably right; a divorce is most likely inevitable. However, we’ve been attracted to one another since the moment we met.

  She snapped, “So what do you suggest, Trevor, that the two of us get together for casual sex every now and then to relieve a little stress and tension?” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling of the car.

  This is just great, she thought. Men are all the same, no matter what their social class or occupation. It is all about sex.

  Taking his eyes off the road, he briefly looked at her. “In spite of what you may think about me, sex has not been casual for me since I was in my early twenties.”

  “Then why even bring it up?”

  “Because it’s a fact that neither of us can honestly deny.”

  “I may not be able to deny it, but I plan to disregard it.” In an abrupt motion, Tiffany crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest.

  Trevor merged into the off ramp traffic, taking the exit back to the college. “Tiffany, I’ll give you your divorce.”

  Shocked, she turned toward him. “Are you serious?”

  Trevor held up his hand, curbing her enthusiasm. “On one condition.”

  She observed his profile through squinted eyes and asked cautiously, “What’s that?”

  “The moment you begin living for yourself, I’ll let you go.”

  “What kind of garbage is that?”

  Trevor turned the corner to the college. “I know you’re not only totally consumed by your father’s career, but your friends are sucking the rest of the life out of you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me or my life.” Tiffany slid her hips back, her posture ramrod straight in the seat.

  As he pulled into a parking spot, he turned toward her. “I know enough to know you are suffocating. You’re stifling your own passion and life to fulfill your father’s dreams.”

  Tiffany inhaled a sharp breath, then forced it out. “As you can see, Mr. Trevor Wayne, I can breathe just fine. I don’t need your amateur medical advice to tell me what’s best for me.”

  “Maybe not, but one thing I do know for sure is, you’re in dire need of a good lay.”

  The silence in the car almost crackled with the tension ignited between them.

  “Where do you get off—”

  Trevor cut her off, saying, “As you may have noticed, tonight, I didn’t.”

  Mad enough to spit needles, she grabbed the door handle and attempted to exit the car.

  Trevor grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. “Look, Tiffany, you need to learn to live your own life before you get smothered under the pile of people wanting a piece of you.” He looked into her eyes, his gaze intent and strong. “You may be Governor Donald W. Selina’s daughter, but you’re not his wife. It’s way past time for you to step out of his lime light.”

  She pushed away from him, gripped the door handle, opened it and faced him one last time. “Listen up, Trevor, and listen well. I never asked you to be my guardian angel. I don’t know why you think you have a right to dictate to me about my life.”

  “I’m your husband,” he said, his tone austere and quiet, like a vault door sealing her fate.

  ~ML~

  He watched Tiffany walk to her car, get in, start it up and pull off. The sound of spitting gravel assured him she was still very angry. He pulled out of the parking spot and headed toward his apartment.

  He didn’t know why it was so important to him that Tiffany got a life. Maybe it was because he’d noticed the minute signs of strain and fatigue around her eyes. Even when they were at the party a few weeks ago and she smiled her fake smile for the public, he could see how exhausted she appeared. The hints were so subtle that, if someone weren’t paying close attention to her, he would miss them.

  He steered his car down the deserted dark streets. “That woman’s going to start living, even if I have to drag her kicking and screaming.”

  Eight

  Tiffany exited the kitchen. She was happy that everything was going well. The Breast Cancer Socie
ty’s annual fundraiser benefit and ball promised to be a resounding success.

  She and Josephine had worked on this non-stop over the last month. It was an issue she and her partner held dear. Standing by the kitchen door, she observed all of the attendees. The ballroom at the Marriott was packed. The BCS committee had sold over three hundred tickets at three hundred dollars a plate.

  People arrived at the cocktail hour and took the time before dinner to mingle with each other as the live band played.

  She observed everyone. A bald, tall, brown-skinned man with broad shoulders and what appeared to be a nice build under his suit caught her attention. Her heart paused; for a moment she’d thought the man was Trevor.

  Her mind instantly drifted to two weeks ago when she had last seen Trevor. She recalled how angry she had been. No one had ever made her lose control in so many ways as Trevor did.

  She denied herself the memory of the carousel ride. It took everything in her power not to think back to the interlude. When she slept, her dreams were filled with heated reflections. The morning after it happened, she awakened with a strong desire for sex.

  She had to hurry up and divorce him before things went too far or, worse, her feelings began to get involved.

  Maybe it is too late.

  Tiffany refused to believe that. She wouldn’t allow herself to become entangled in this relationship with him—anymore than she already had.

  When the man turned to speak to some woman on his right, she realized her mistake. She berated herself for her wayward thoughts about Trevor.

  There were three twenty-minute speakers set up during dinner, besides the remarks and comments made by Lavonia Demhart, the president of the local chapter of BCS. Two of them were personal testimonials, and the other one was a family member who had lost a loved one to breast cancer.

  Four years ago, Tiffany had been one of the speakers. The testimonials were always an emotional time of the evening for her—as well as for other attendees.

  Tiffany heard Josephine through the speakers as she directed everyone to take their seats.

  Tiffany and Josephine’s seats were reserved in the back, closest to the kitchen. If anything happened, they could leave without disturbing the function.