Her Love and Regrets (Book I)

by Chevelle Allen

  Her Love and Regrets

  Chevelle Allen

  Copyright © 2016 Chevelle Allen

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-0692612422

  ISBN-10: 0692612424

  Visit

  www.chevelleallen.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover photography and design

  by

  Petite Shards Productions

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my family for their love and patience as I spent hours cloistered to produce this work. Special thanks to LCB, CAB, DB3, CSC, CBM SLK and RaynStorm for reading early drafts, offering sage advice and insights. None of this would be possible without your encouragement and support.

  —Chevelle

  CHAPTER 1

  The secrets that dwell deep in a woman’s heart can be the source of her most profound joy or painful regret. It is a space she fiercely protects and rarely—if ever—shares. Lurking within Janine Powell’s heart were intensely passionate memories that forever changed how she defined love, trust and intimacy with a man. And yet, those remembrances were shrouded in the taboo—outside of the norm for a woman “like her.“

  Like many, she found comfort in the normalcy of her life’s routine. To the outside world it was enviable. She was a respected business leader with connections as diverse as the homeless veteran she brought sandwiches to, to small community groups and those working in the West Wing of the White House. Although she was just shy of forty, Janine had become a mentor to younger women who often called upon her for professional and occasional personal advice whether in huge forums or private chats. But in the days when stillness and calm consumed her, she longed to release the veil, to breathe less rarified air, to express in ways not often allowed her.

  When the phone rang, she almost didn’t answer because she didn’t recognize the number. But the house was quiet, and her day had been far from taxing on her body or spirit—so uncharacteristically she picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, girl!”

  Even though it had been at least two years since she heard it, the voice was familiar and welcomed. “Girl, how the hell are you? What’s going on?”

  “I know it’s been a long time!”

  “Monica, it’s been…”

  “I know, I know! It’s been too long to even worry about counting. I got your new number from Kelly—I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is!” Janine said as curiosity and enthusiasm swelled at finally hearing from one of her closest friends.

  “The reason I’m calling is because we are getting the crew together and heading down to Belize for a few days.”

  “Wait…what?” Janine couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “I know it’s crazy—but yeah. You know Dave…he’s been trying to get us all together in the same place for years. It just seems like the time is right. It’s been 15 years since graduating law school and it doesn’t seem likely any of us are going to the official reunion. So me, Kelly, Jamal, Dave and Michael are heading down there. What do you think?”

  Monica’s pause hung in the air as if she expected an answer immediately. With a knowing laugh, Janine thought about Dave, the glue to them all. He was the one who always knew where everyone from their graduate school days was living, where they were working, marriages, divorces, and kids. Dave knew. He knew everything.

  “I don’t know. My schedule is pretty tight. I just don’t know if I can…”

  “Ah girl, just stop it! You know it will be fun! I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell could stand to get out of L.A. So get your Bougie ass on a plane and join us!”

  Janine couldn’t help but chuckle at the insinuation. “I don’t know, Monica…”

  “Girl, I miss you. I miss everyone. I know I dropped off the planet after Jasmine and I split. I was a real punk about all that, but I can’t imagine us doing this and you not being there.” Her unexpected shift in mood caused Janine to listen more intently.

  “I miss you too…and I’m sorry about Jasmine.”

  “It was tough. Truthfully, I thought I was losing my mind…but that’s not why I called.”

  Taking a moment to take in the sentiments expressed, Janine asked, “So, when is this trip?”

  “Next month. The twenty-third. Four days and three nights. It’s just enough time for us to have a great time without doing too much damage. Kelly arranged a deal for us. Girl, I’m talking a private villa on the Cay. Everything is right there—pool, boat, staff comes in, food… the whole nine.”

  “That does sound nice. Is it one big house or more like a compound with bungalows?”

  “Heffa! Does it matter? A client of Kel’s made it available as a thank you for snagging a hell of an alimony deal. All we have to do is get our asses on planes and get there! So what do you say, Janine?”

  Her schedule was generally hers to manage, but she felt a little trepidation about the trip, so she hedged her response.

  “Janine, just promise me you’ll give it some thought and let me know what you decide by Friday. It won’t be the same without you.”

  “I promise to get back to you.”

  “Okay. I’ve gotta run. Call me soon, just to catch up before the trip.”

  “Absolutely! And thanks for letting me know.”

  “I love you, girl!”

  “I love you too, Monica.” And with that, the call ended and Janine’s mind began to race.

  It had been too long since they were all together and admittedly, she missed them all. Over the years, she had visited with her friends—usually just one or two at a time—when traveling for business. These get-togethers usually involved having dinner followed by far too many cocktails, boisterous laughter and remembering all the ridiculous fun they had trying to break the rigors of academic life. They were a source of strength to one another during the arduous journey to complete their Juris Doctor/Masters of Business Administration program at one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

  They came through at a time when black students were still a small minority in a highly selective program. Even though they hailed from different parts of the country, they formed a bond built on their shared sense of giving back, reaching back and moving up while supporting each other through it all. Their bond was strengthened by the irrefutable fact that without each other, getting through those three years would have proven far more difficult. But she was still uneasy. All she could think about was how things could get very messy—especially if he was going to be there.

  Michael Josey occupied that sacred space deep in her heart. If she let herself dwell in that place there was an ache at the realization made long ago that their time together seemed doomed to fleeting episodes. This realization was exhausting and sorrowful—and she had convinced herself it must have been for the best. There was no ”third time’s the charm”—for their encounters had long passed that marker. It simply was what it was. She also knew if she took this trip, the inevitable cycle between them would likely repeat and she wasn’t sure she had the emotional stamina to withstand it again.

  Busying herself with cleaning dishes and other chores, she finally settled in with the newspaper. She still loved to hold one in her hands despite all the electronic news at her disposal. She tried to clear her mind and focus on the day ahead but she couldn’t. Flashes of the group’s antics caused her to giggle
out loud. Trying to linger in those memories, she couldn’t because in each one there he was, penetrating her consciousness. Literally shaking her head several times—as if she could somehow erase the memories stored on her brain and heart—his image would not fade. Even as she folded her newspaper, her mind flashed to riding the Metro back to campus with him after a day in the city.

  Having found a seat across from him on the train, she was able to study his every movement as he carefully folded the Journal along the columns. His hands were deliberate, fluid and strong. He’d look up and smile at her with eyes that sparkled with playfulness and seriousness in the same glance. She focused more on those soft brown eyes that had the capacity to tell her exactly what he was thinking—what he wanted.

  As more people piled onto the train, he offered his seat to a young mother struggling with her stroller and a toddler too restless to be contained. Still managing to hold the newspaper in one hand while placing the other firmly in the strap overhead, Michael moved beside her. It was rush hour and it seemed that as people got off, many more filled their spaces. Janine eventually gave her seat to an elderly woman. Grabbing hold of the free strap beside his, they stood side by side.

  Being so close to him brought about a sense of mischief that she chose to seize as she moved her body as close to him as possible. Coyly, she began pressing herself against him at every opportunity while avoiding eye contact with him. She moved her free hand inside his coat, down his side and around to inside his inner thigh—teasing but never touching her prize. Not once did he acknowledge what she was doing to him. As they exited the train, he tucked the newspaper inside his backpack and took hold of her hand, saying little on the walk back to campus.

  Still sitting on her bed, Janine put her newspaper down and exhaled slowly, trying to find a meditative state in an effort to better control her thoughts. With equal measure, she did not want to explore them further, but their intensity was inescapable. She rolled her head slowly in a circle and then moved her hand from her collarbone around to her shoulder and back to her neck with her thumb and forefinger stroking to the bottom of her jaw. It was no use. She was lost in this purgatory. Resigned to what was happening, she lay back on her bed as Michael’s ”ghost” invaded. She could no longer resist the memories flooding her mind.

  In her mind, they were in his apartment following that train ride. It was a small space full of books and papers strewn about on every available surface. At the back of the apartment was his bedroom. As they stepped through the door, he locked it, slowly moving the chain across in its groove. With her back to him, she began to take off her jacket and put her bag down. With a swiftness unanticipated, he came from behind and grabbed her, pushing her against the wall with such force there was no way she could prepare for it. The memory intensified as a heat swelled from her abdomen and radiated throughout her body. The power of her mind had replaced her hand with his—as he carefully held her by the throat. His lips moved lightly along her upper arms, shoulders and neck then to her ears and back down again. Never once letting go of her throat, he had managed to use the whole of his body to embrace and control her. Slowly releasing her neck, he whispered in her ear as he methodically raised her arms above her head, stealthy, expertly restraining every possible movement she attempted.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing on that train?” he whispered as he pressed harder against her.

  Her impishness turned to defiance as her smirk became harder to contain, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, really? We both know that’s a lie.” Still holding her firmly against the wall, he managed to reach down and unzip her jeans. Then he slid his hand inside her panties circling his palm against her clit while using his middle finger to penetrate her. The force of it seemed to mirror what he had used to pin her to the wall.

  Steeling herself further against his will, she coyly repeated, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Michael.”

  Looking into her eyes, his face changed displaying intensity potentially terrifying to anyone else, but she understood it. She understood the game was only beginning. Removing his fingers from her just as quickly as they had entered, he stepped back, releasing her from all his restraint. Never taking his eyes off of her he said, “You know I don’t like it when you lie to me. So what are we going to do about that?” And then that sexy grin of his appeared.

  Taking slow steps away from him, she kicked off her shoes, matching his gaze with the same fierceness. Casting her shoulders back, she began taking off her blouse and jeans. She stood in front of him in the lace bra he bought her. Nothing would hide the hardness of her nipples through the fabric, or the quickness of her breath. As she slid the panties down her legs, she marveled at how wet they had become in such a short time. Unlatching the hooks on her bra, she dropped it to the floor as she walked towards him noting how taut his face had become as he inspected every part of her. Despite her nakedness, she felt her power over him as her eyes took him in as well. Looking for any outward sign of his arousal, she saw none. But she understood all too well he was controlled—measured. It was maddening and erotic all at once.

  With a slight tilt of her head, she tauntingly said, “I don’t know Michael. What are we going to do?”

  He reached out stroking the side of her face then tracing his fingers between her breasts to her belly. He stepped closer and began gently kissing her deeply as his hands moved down her arms to her wrists eventually entwining their fingers. Releasing his fingers from hers, he took hold of her wrists and moved them behind her. Holding her tightly, he inhaled as if her scent contained an elixir that would sustain him.

  Eventually letting go, he turned away from her. “Get on your knees, Baby.”

  She lowered herself to the floor and looked up while watching him remove the belt from his pants. He slowly wrapped it around his right hand, with the buckle firmly in his grasp.

  “Turn around so I can see your ass,” he said.

  She did as she was told and more, lowering her upper body allowing her breasts to rest on her forearms and her forehead to rest on the floor. She knew what was coming and it thrilled and aroused her. She didn’t need to think about what they were doing anymore. They both understood that their play was the ultimate expression of their intimacy and trust. To the outside world, comprehending how she found an ounce of sexual pleasure at the pain she was about to receive at his hand was confounding. How had two people who loved each other so completely, enjoy giving and receiving physical pain? The thought left her mind as soon as she felt the first contact of the belt on her ass.

  Her initial flinch was slight, and he struck her again on the other side. Moving from one cheek to the other, he struck her ten times. It was all she could manage without bruising or tears. He lowered himself behind her and began feverishly rubbing, kissing and massaging her ass, which had reddened and emitted heat. He interspersed the massage with a hard spank. At some point she gasped and the spanking stopped. She knew he was studying her carefully, running his hands lightly over the small of her back, back down to her ass. He lowered his hands to her folds and gently rubbed her from behind. She knew she was even wetter now and was desperate for him to fuck her—but she knew better—so she dared not ask or beg him to do so. That would come later.

  With his voice barely above a whisper, he demanded, “Get up.” Janine complied, walking down the hall towards his bedroom. The ache on her ass was more intense than expected or experienced before and she wasn’t entirely sure why. Once she reached the bedroom, it was initially uncomfortable for her to sit on the edge of the bed—which is where she knew he wanted her. Waiting for him to join her felt like an eternity but she kept her head and eyes lowered.

  As he entered the room behind her, he went straight to the dresser reaching for the blindfold that hung on the corner mirror. He placed it carefully over her eyes, not uttering a word. Since she could no longer see, she concentrated intensely hoping to hear what direction he walked across the fl
oor. If he opened the dresser, she knew he would use dildos or rabbits on her. If he went to the closet, it would be straps, cuffs or more complex restraining systems. The direction he chose would determine how long their evening would last and he was capable of exhausting her beyond compare. As she listened, she didn’t hear anything except his breath. He was watching her—just standing there, watching her.

  Something about his stillness didn’t feel right to her. But she sat, trying to determine if this was a new level in her training. Despite her best efforts to stay in the moment, her instinct told her that something was wrong. With a bit of trepidation, she lifted her head, moved her hands around to the back of the blindfold and removed it. When she looked at him, she saw what seemed like a look of anguish on his face.

  “Baby? Are you okay?” she asked. His eyes were heavy and his face had softened considerably. “Michael? Baby, are you okay?” He didn’t answer her. Instead he came to her dropping on his knees in front of her. He leaned his head onto her breasts and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She returned the embrace feeling an overwhelming sense of panic. “Please Michael, tell me what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Janine, I…”

  “What is it? You’re scaring the hell out of me!” He looked up at her and she saw his watery eyes. “Please tell me what’s wrong!” There was no hiding the desperation in her voice.

  “I just…I just love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could ever love anyone.”

  Her heart swelled and she hugged him with all the strength she could muster. “I love you too.”

  As she cradled him and thought of all the things they had done together, this was the first time either of them had actually verbalized what they both knew. They loved each other and nothing could possibly change that core fact.

  CHAPTER 2

  It took a several days for Janine to tame the memories that had been running through her mind. Focusing on her work helped considerably. She had been at the helm of the Remington Foundation for five years after having served as their legal counsel for three years. On the surface it was an unlikely career path, but after a series of personal setbacks and professional fortunes, she landed in this role that suited her well and she excelled in it. Following the JD/MBA program, she knew she wanted to find a way to work with nonprofit organizations—just not for one. The reason was fairly simple: there was no money in nonprofits.