The music ended, and long moments passed before Tiffany’s legs slid down his side, and he had the strength to raise himself on his elbows.
He removed the mask from her face and wiped sweat away from her eyes. He smiled down at the woman who accepted him, including his faults. She had taken away the revenge that filled his soul and replaced it with her love. “I love you,” he said, still a little breathless.
Tiffany returned his gaze, placed her hand against his cheek, and brushed her thumb across his lips. “I love you.”
“Honey, you may want to warn a brotha the next time you’re going to do a teasing act like that.”
“Why? Didn’t you enjoy this?” Tiffany offered a broad smile.
“Yes.” Trevor placed a kiss in the center of her forehead. “But the next time, it may kill me.”
Tiffany’s burst of laughter filled the room.
Twenty-four
“Hi, baby, how’s your day been so far?” Trevor spoke into his earpiece as he drove through traffic.
“It’s going well. How’s Heritage coming along?”
Tiffany’s soft voice caused his heart to expand. He’d never known love like what he felt for her. He would be glad when he was able to tell the world she was his, not just dating him, but his for life. “Awesome. All the guys from CB are having a ball creating and designing the systems for Heritage. It’s a worthy project.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Trevor imagined her smiling on the other end. He shook himself. He had a task to do and needed a clear head to accomplish it. “Well, I called to let you know I’ll meet you at the house, but I’ll be a little late. I have something to check on.” Trevor attempted to keep his voice light and his words vague. He didn’t want Tiffany to worry.
“That’s fine. It’ll give me a chance to cook. I’ll see you later. I love you.”
“I love you, baby. When I’m on my way, I’ll call you.”
“All right. Trevor…” Tiffany hesitated.
Trevor gripped the small phone. “Yeah, sweetie?”
“Be careful,” Tiffany responded softly.
“I will.” Trevor closed his cell phone with a snap. To tell him to be careful, Tiffany must have noticed something in his voice.
Finally arriving at his destination, Trevor turned into the residential parking section and pulled into a spot that was two rows away from Eddie “The Weasel” Sherman’s house but faced his front door. Manning wasn’t the only one with connections on the police force. Trevor took a chance that someone with Weasel’s reputation for shady activities might have a record. This morning, he had made a call to a friend he used to dance with at EE. Rob had called him just after lunch with the information.
Trevor looked at the townhouse. Three sixteen was his number, but the six had broken away from the top nail, making it appear to be three nineteen. He assumed the number was like that from Weasel’s laziness, or purposely done by him. It probably worked in the reporter’s favor, bringing him time if someone were looking for him, and depending who lived in the real three nineteen, Trevor was sure it gave The Weasel a greedy opportunity to get a peep at his neighbor’s mail on occasion.
Trevor hoped for a chance to lay eyes on The Weasel. He knew the governor and Wallace were taking care of it; he had no plans of messing that up. But it was daunting to know someone was out dumpster diving and taking pictures of him and Tiffany.
Trevor got out of his car, walked to a metal newspaper stand on the corner, dropped in the specified change and retrieved a paper. When he returned to the car, he got in the passenger side, so if anyone saw him, he’d look like he was waiting for the driver of the car to come back.
After an hour, the sun faded and evening set in, and Trevor’s luck paid off. A sun bleached red 1998 Toyota Corolla pulled into three sixteen’s parking spot. A shaggy brown haired, lanky guy of medium height got out. With his T-shirt and blue jeans, he would have faded into the scenery. Great for his profession. Evident in the large camera bag he carried on his shoulder and the two black, kitchen-size trash bags he held in his hand.
“Out fishing for food tonight, I see,” Trevor mumbled aloud.
He watched as Weasel’s beady eyes scanned the surrounding area before he put his key in his door and entered the dark residence.
“In your line of work, you better watch your back.” Trevor saw the light in one window come on. He could see a tall rectangular shape and what appeared to be the square frame of the back of a chair. He figured it was the kitchen area. Next, a light came on in an upstairs room.
It was too tempting to knock on the door and confront the sleazy reporter. After about twenty minutes, with no other movement in the house, Trevor prepared to leave.
Before he could get out and switch seats, he saw Manning arrive and park a row away from him. Manning backed his car into the spot, then stepped out of his car and with purposeful strides walked up to Weasel’s door.
“Well, what do you know, Mr. ‘Soon to be Congressman.’ You are very comfortable in the most unlikely places. Instead of sending another one of your flunkies, you decided to handle it yourself. Less witnesses.” Trevor chuckled and observed the situation, grateful that Manning had been too preoccupied to notice his car.
Manning knocked on the door three times, made a quick glance over his shoulder and checked the doorknob. Trevor was surprised it was open. Manning quickly stepped in and closed the door.
Is he expecting you?
Trevor used that opportunity to slide over to the driver’s side. Fifteen minutes later, Manning came storming out of the house, suit coat and tie skewed. He pulled the door behind him, as if a ghost was inside and hot on his heels in pursuit.
Not watching where he was going, Manning almost stepped on a Teacup Terrier an older woman was walking. The woman snatched the dog up into her arms, giving it a consoling stroke as she gave Manning an affronted look.
Manning stopped, snatched his coat and tie in place. Trevor witnessed the swift expansion of Manning’s chest as he attempted to catch his breath. In an instant, a change in the politician’s demeanor happened.
Manning gave the woman one of his infamous baby-wooing smiles and apologized to her and the dog, stopping short of reaching out and petting the pooch. Instead, he bowed his head gallantly and continued with his escape.
In a flash, Manning was in his car and gone. Too fast for Trevor to consider trailing, which he’d had no plans of doing.
What in the hell was going on? Trevor pondered the question. If he were a betting man, he would have expected to see The Weasel come storming out of the apartment behind Manning.
But nothing.
By the way Manning had looked, he had no doubt a fight or some type of scuffle had broken out.
A foreboding feeling was nagging at his gut. Something’s just not right.
How far would Manning go to secure his seat in Congress and force Tiffany and her father’s hand?
Trevor shook his head. Manning could have had any woman in society, but his propensity to always win and have his way consumed him now just as it had when they were in college.
Five years ago, it hadn’t stopped until Rebecca had died. Whose life would it cost this time?
Curiosity was nipping at his mind. Trevor reached over and grabbed a piece of paper from his center console. On one side, it held a copy of a tester page from a program he was installing at Heritage, and the other side held the information he had jotted down about The Weasel when Rob called. He had gotten the address and phone number of the reporter. When he wrote it earlier, there was no intention of calling The Weasel, but circumstances had changed.
Trevor opened his cell phone and began to punch in the numbers. Halfway through the seven digits, he stopped. If something had happened to The Weasel, his cell number would be in the reporter’s phone record.
Instead of blocking the call, he drove to the shopping center a block away from the reporter’s residence and used the payphone on the side of a co
nvenient store to make a quick anonymous call to the police, telling the operator a fight had broken out and he was concerned that someone may be hurt. He gave them the residence and hung up the phone after the woman confirmed she would send a patrol car out.
More than enough for one night. Trevor returned to his car and headed toward home.
Twenty-five
When Tiffany awakened the next morning in bed, she was surprised to see Trevor awake and staring at her.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” He leaned down and kissed her on the tip of her nose.
Tiffany snuggled her body against his. “You’re awful bright eyed. What time is it?”
Smiling, she walked her fingers down the center of his naked chest, a purposeful destination.
When she reached his navel, she swirled a finger inside.
Trevor’s stomach contracted.
Tiffany gave him a surprised look, then touched the warm flesh of his hard shaft. “Well, Mr. Wayne…you are standing quite tall this morning.” Wrapping her fingers around him, she began to massage him.
Trevor’s breathing increased, and his eyes closed for a moment. “Don’t start something we can’t finish.”
“We have time for anything our hearts desire.” Her stroking increased.
He groaned, “We’re…press…late…conference…going to be.”
Tiffany laughed as the urgency in Trevor built, causing all of his blood flow to descend from his brain, removing his ability to provide literate conversation. “Trevor, it’s only…”
Glancing over his broad shoulder, she looked at the clock. “Get up. We’re going to be late.”
Tiffany released him, threw back the covers and vaulted from the bed. “We have twenty minutes to get dressed and be on the road to Richmond. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Trevor lay in the middle of the bed. “I tried—” He pointed to his firm upright member.
“But look what you started.”
Tiffany gave him an apologetic look as she headed into the bathroom. “I’m sorry, Trevor.
I’ll take care of you later, I promise.” She turned on the shower and tested it for warmth. “We really need to shower and go.”
“You’re damn right we need to shower, but you’re going to take care of this now.”
Trevor got up from the bed and followed her into the bathroom.
Tiffany shrieked with delight when Trevor stepped into the shower behind her.
“What are you doing? We don’t have time for this.” Tiffany wiggled around, grabbed her puff and added gel.
“Of course we do. It will only take a minute.” Trevor pulled her into his arms.
Tiffany gave him an affronted look as he worked the soap into a foamy lather. “A minute…?”
The smell of vanilla and apples permeated the area.
Trevor smiled at her evident frustration. “Yeah, don’t worry…I’ll take care of you later,” Trevor added in a mimicking singsong voice as he planted kisses on the swells of her breasts, pulling her body closer to his aroused one.
Tiffany pretended to be shocked but couldn’t hold the expression and laughed. “Well, if you’re set on doing this, we’re going to have to come to some type of compromise.”
“Just leave it to me.”
And she did.
~ML~
Trevor picked up the shampoo gel bottle and put it in her hand. “Hold this.” He lifted Tiffany. “Wrap your legs around me.”
As she obeyed him, Trevor leaned her back against the wall of the shower. She arched her back and screeched, “Cold!”
Trevor winked at her, propped his foot on the side creating a seat for her, then held his hand out for gel. After it was filled he began lathering and arousing her simultaneously. He suckled her nipples while he glided his cleansing hands over her back and arms.
Their breath became heavier, audible.
Pulling away from her breast, he moved onto her stomach and breasts. As he washed her swollen peaks and taut belly, he kissed her. Thoroughly loving her mouth, he continued to bring them both to readiness.
Moving away from her succulent mouth, Trevor got more gel from Tiffany. He noticed the glassy look in her eyes, saw the rise and fall of her breasts and could feel the purposeful undulation of her hips, her desire in full force.
Taking her even higher, placing his shaft against her heated opening, he started rubbing the soap into her thighs, hips and bottom as he plunged forward. Tiffany’s legs tightened around his waist as her hot core clamped around him. He leaned into her and flushed her body against the wall.
As Tiffany met each of his thrusts with arching hips, the water cascaded down their slick forms and danced with scented bubbles at Trevor’s feet. Her body squeezed and pumped him like a fist. His bubbly hands moved down her legs to her feet. Grabbing her ankles, he held on as the increasing sexual tension drove him to madness. Deep, hard, quick thrusts took them into oblivion. Tiffany cried out her release as he exploded inside of her.
For a moment, they stayed there as the water beat against the porcelain flooring, slowly recovering. Unlocking her legs, Trevor stepped back and allowed Tiffany’s slick body to slide down his as his hands found the last stop needing washing. His hand went between her legs. He gently massaged and bathed her pulsing sex. Tiffany climaxed again.
Trevor placed his lips against her ear and whispered, “You’re two to my one…You’re right baby…you will take care of me later.”
Tiffany bent down and launched her soggy puff at him.
It smacked Trevor in the chest as his laughter erupted into the steam-filled room.
~ML~
“Sorry, we’re late, Dad.” Tiffany walked into her father’s office and embraced him.
Squeezing her tight, her father said, “Don’t worry, honey. I already had Helen arrange to have it moved down an hour after what happened last night.” Stepping back, he eyed her up and down, verifying to himself that she was okay. “I told Trevor last night. Didn’t he tell you?”
Tiffany swung around and caught sight of her husband’s mischievous smile. She’d known Trevor had told her father about Dan’s lurking, but he’d failed to mention the time change. Lifting her brow at him, she conveyed the message she would get even with him. “It must have slipped his mind.”
Trevor stepped forward and shook hands with her father. “Morning, sir. She was sleeping so well I didn’t want to disturb her.”
“You’re so thoughtful, Trevor.” Tiffany batted her eyelashes playfully at him.
Trevor grinned broadly.
“Well, I had no doubts she was in good hands.” Pulling her attention back to him, her father asked, “Are you all right, sweetheart? If you’re not up to this…we can cancel it all together.”
“No need to cancel. I’m fine, Dad.” Tiffany smoothed her hands down the front of her salmon and cream pinstripe suit jacket. The final image in her mirror said confident and secure.
“I’m more than ready to tell the world I’m happily married to this wonderful man.”
Her father nodded toward Wallace, who stood beside the door in silence. He opened the door. They all prepared to walk out the door when Helen, a middle-aged black woman with a salt and pepper short natural, walked into the room.
Speech anxious, Helen said, “Governor, forgive me for the interruption. I know you all need to get to the pressroom, but you need to see the newsbreak.” Helen rushed to the wall unit, grabbed the remote and turned the television on. “I don’t know if you all saw it, but during this morning’s report they were talking about that reporter who was found dead in his apartment last night…” She quickly found the local news channel and turned the sound up.
The door clicked shut as they all did an about face and moved to the center of the room and gathered around the screen.
“…apparently, Bob, Congressional candidate Christopher Manning was seen at the reporter’s house around his time of death.” The slender man’s straight, brown hair waved in the soft breeze as he s
poke into his handheld microphone to the anchorman sitting in a small corner box, answering his questions relayed through his earpiece.
“Dave, this isn’t the first time a political figure has been brought in for questioning. I’m sure Senator Manning and his family’s law team will have all of this straightened out soon. Any information on what the connection may have been between ‘Golden Boy’ Manning and the tabloid reporter? Seems like a bizarre association.”
“You’re correct, Bob, a strange match indeed. The word is that an eyewitness places Manning coming out of the house minutes after the time of death. Furthermore, Dan McRyan, a retired D.C. police officer, came forward moments ago with some new information about Christopher Manning. ”
“Well, however this turns out, it will definitely be interesting. Thanks, Dave.”
Helen pushed a button on the remote, causing the screen to go black. The room fell silent, for a long moment the only sound heard was the humming of the ceiling lights.
“Helen, please let the press know we will be with them momentarily,” Governor Selina said, turning away from the wall unit and walking toward his desk.
Helen set the slender black controller down and exited the room.
“Christopher being questioned about a murder.” Tiffany was awestruck, looking at her father, she asked, “I’m sorry to say, Dad, Christopher’s not the man we thought him to be.”
Trevor spoke up as he stepped up to her and placed his arm around her waist. Christopher Manning’s life was in the hands of the police now. They had more important things to deal with.
“So what’s our plan of action for the press conference now?”
“Nothing different. I’m pretty clear about what we should tell them.”
“Dad, is that because you think the police have the pictures in evidence and they will come out soon?” Tiffany asked, feeling a bit uneasy about the new revelation involving Christopher.
“No. That hasn’t been an issue since the day following the arrival of the package.”
Fire & Desire (Hero Series) Page 24
