Twice the Temptation

by Rochelle Alers

  Rhett entered the bedroom and placed Denise on the queen-size bed, his body following hers down. Although the drapes were drawn, light was discernable through the diaphanous fabric. Moving with the agility of a large cat, he straddled her body, supporting his weight on his elbows.

  He lowered his head, burying his face against the column of her scented neck. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he whispered in her ear.

  Denise closed her eyes. Rhett had echoed her thoughts. She didn’t want to feel him inside her as much as she’d wanted him to hold her. Sex she could have with any man, but it was the foreplay and afterplay that had made making love with Rhett so different from what she’d had with Kevin.

  She uttered a small cry of protest when he rolled over. The breath caught in her throat when he stood up and unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes. Denise wanted to look away but couldn’t when he unbuckled his belt and tossed it on a chair next to the bed. His slacks and briefs joined the belt, and with wide eyes, she stared at the muscles in his back and firm buttocks. She gasped again, this time when he turned to face her.

  Denise had lost count of the number of times she’d viewed Rhett’s nude body, but seeing it again made her aware of how beautifully proportioned it was. Years had added muscle and bulk to his lean frame. A smile parted her lips when he leaned over and kissed the end of her nose.

  Rhett reached for the hem of her top, pulling it up and over her head. “Are you all right with this?” Denise closed her eyes, nodding. “Do you trust me not to do anything you don’t want me to do?”

  She opened her eyes. “Yes, Rhett, I trust you.” It was the same thing he’d asked her before making love to her for the first time.

  Slowly, methodically, he removed her clothes until she was as naked as he was. Gathering her off the mattress, he pulled back the duvet, placed her on the sheet and got into bed with her. He dropped an arm over her waist and pulled her closer until they were nestled like spoons.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  Denise shifted into a more comfortable position. “I’m good, Rhett.”

  He swallowed a groan. “I’m not going to be so good in a minute.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I’m getting a hard-on, Denise, and unless you have some condoms on hand I suggest you stop wiggling.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Neither do I,” Rhett informed her.

  “I thought most men carry condoms with them.”

  Rhett wanted to tell Denise he wasn’t most men. Even when he’d become a serial dater he hadn’t slept with every woman he’d asked out. The ones he’d slept with were still more than he’d anticipated before turning thirty.

  “I guess I’m not like most men. If I’m not dating a woman, then I don’t see a need to walk around with condoms in my pocket.”

  “Aren’t you ever spontaneous?”

  Rhett chuckled. “Is this your roundabout way of asking me if I ever had a one-night stand?”

  Placing her hand over the large hand resting on her thigh, Denise smiled. “Yes.”

  “One-night stands can backfire. Remember what happened to Michael Douglas in Fatal Attraction?” He and Denise had what they’d called movie night. Either they would rent a movie or visit a movie house in Baltimore that featured retro films.

  “How can I forget. But I don’t blame the Glenn Close character as much as I do Michael Douglas’s, because he was married and picking up a crazy woman was his punishment for cheating on his wife.”

  “She knew he was married when she invited him back to her place.”

  “So, that makes him exempt, Rhett?” Denise argued in a quiet voice.

  “No, it doesn’t. You know how I feel about men who cheat on their wives.”

  “But what about men who cheat on their girlfriends?”

  “A girlfriend is not a wife, Denise.”

  “So, that makes it okay for him to cheat on her?”

  “No, it doesn’t make it okay. It’s never okay once a man and woman are committed to each other.”

  “Then why—”

  “Let’s not rehash the past tonight,” Rhett interrupted. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Please, baby.”

  Denise smiled, despite her annoyance. Rhett was right. If they were going to go forward, then they had to leave their past behind. “Okay, darling. You win—tonight.”

  “You just have to have the last word, don’t you?”

  “If you don’t know me by now, then you’ll never ever know me.”

  “Don’t go Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes on me, Denise.”

  She giggled like a little girl. “So you recognize the lyrics. Remember when we used to play name the lyrics or the artist?”

  “Yes, and you always won.”

  “That’s because I didn’t go to a stuffy old boarding school where all you heard was classical and chamber music. My parents played Motown and Philadelphia soul until I knew the words to every Stevie, Teddy and Temptations song.”

  Rhett’s hand moved lower, his fingers grazing the down covering her mound. “That stuffy old boarding school was responsible for me getting into Johns Hopkins where I met this hot little sister who had my nose so wide open that a locomotive could fit with room to spare.”

  Denise had no comeback. She lay, listening to the sound of her own breathing until she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

  Chapter 8

  “Come on, Denise. I’d like to get on the road before we get caught in traffic.”

  Hopping on her right foot, Denise pushed the left into the mate to the leather sandal. “I’m coming, Rhett. I had to comb my hair.”

  She’d applied what was left of a no-frizz serum to her wet hair and ran a wide-tooth comb through her damp hair in an attempt to tame the curls that were beginning to dry and swell like rising dough. Hopefully, she would be able to pick up another bottle of what she’d deemed her magic hair lotion at a drugstore chain once they got to Baltimore.

  Rhett stood with his back to the door, arms crossed over his chest. He’d wanted to get up early and on the road before eight, but they’d overslept. They’d fallen asleep, then woke at midnight ravenous. The fridge was turned off, and the pantry bare, so they’d gotten dressed and went in search of an all-night diner where they’d ordered breakfast. It was after two when they returned to the apartment and went back to bed.

  “Your hair looks fine.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, unable to believe he could look so virile in jeans, T-shirt, running shoes and a frayed baseball cap he should’ve discarded a long time ago. He’d showered but hadn’t shaved.

  “I don’t like going out with wet hair.”

  Rhett angled his head and kissed her cheek. “It will dry before we get to Maryland.”

  “I know it will dry, but I’ll end up looking like a Chia Pet.”

  “You’ll just be a very beautiful Chia Pet,” he teased.

  “You’ll say anything, Rhett, just to get your way.”

  His arms came down. “Is that really how you see me? That I’m all about coercion and manipulation?”

  “We’ll talk about it in the car,” Denise countered, reaching for her keys. Rhett glared at her, then picked up their bags and opened the door. She locked the door, dropping the keys in the tote.

  She knew Rhett was angry because she saw the nervous tic in his jaw when he’d clenched his teeth together. Denise didn’t want to begin what was to become their second chance to get it right with a disagreement. The reason their college liaison had lasted for four years was because they were able to talk out their differences of opinion somewhat intelligently. Once they were committed, it hadn’t become an off-and-on, now-and-then relationship. It was as if they were married, but only without the rings, license and officiant.

  Although they had maintained separate dorms, once they’d begun sleeping together it was either at her dorm or Rhett’s. The only time they did not sleep together was when she went home to Ph
iladelphia and he returned to D.C.

  They rode the elevator to the lobby and walked out into the brilliant late-spring sun. The streets of Penn’s Landing were bustling with the activity of both vehicular and pedestrian traffic. It was as if after a long, unusually snowy winter, Philadelphians had emerged from their cabin-fever doldrums looking to take advantage of every sun-filled day Mother Nature granted them.

  Rhett stored their bags in the trunk of the car, then touched the handle of the driver’s-side door and opened it. He beckoned to Denise. “Come, beautiful. You’re driving to Cape St. Claire.”

  Denise’s mouth opened and closed several times as she digested his suggestion. He wanted her to drive his car to Maryland. She couldn’t use the excuse that she didn’t know how to get there because the vehicle was equipped with a high-tech navigational system. She slipped in behind the wheel, waiting until Rhett pushed a few buttons to adjust the seat to accommodate her shorter legs.

  Hunkering down to her level, he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “Do you need to adjust the back?”

  She shook her head, flyaway curls moving as if they’d taken on a life of their own. “No, it’s good.”

  “Make certain it’s okay before I program it into the memory for you.”

  Resting her hands on the wheel, she extended her arms. “I think I’m going to need the back of the seat closer to my spine.”

  Rhett pushed a few more buttons and the pneumatic lumbar support cradled her back. He tapped another button and the three-position memory was set for Denise’s proportions. Closing the door, he came around the car and sat beside her. He touched the Start Engine button, then quickly punched in the route to the house that had become his sanctuary.

  It was on Cape St. Claire that he hadn’t had to think about anything business-related. It was where he went to escape and to renew his spirit. Whenever he visited the covenanted unincorporated community he’d always been alone. Denise Eaton would become the first woman, other than Geraldine Fennell-Russell, who would cross the threshold of his waterfront refuge.

  “Do you want me to put on some music?” he asked her as she backed out of the parking space.

  “Yes.”

  Denise enjoyed the feel of the finely stitched leather on the hand-polished wood of the steering wheel under her fingers. The interior of the luxury car was designed for comfort, convenience and to soothe the senses with high-gloss burl walnut wood trim, glove-soft leather and an in-dash six-disc DVD/CD audio-video player.

  The stiffness in her body eased as she followed the directions on the screen to the road leading to I-95. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  Stretching out long legs, Rhett pulled the beak of the hat lower over his forehead, then lowered the back of his seat into a reclining position. “What?”

  “You know right well that after I drive your car I’m not going to want to drive Valentina ever again.”

  “You shouldn’t be driving her at all, because you never know when she’s going to break down at the most inopportune time.”

  “She is mechanically sound, Rhett. It’s just that’s she had a lot of mileage on her.”

  “I’d still feel better if you had a new car.”

  Her fingers tightened on the wheel. “I told you I’m going to buy a new one, but not until I sell my co-op.”

  Rhett gave her a sidelong glance from under the beak of his cap. “Do you want me to give you the down payment?”

  “No!”

  He raised his head, then fell back against the leather seat. “There’s no need to get spastic, Denise.”

  “I’m not spastic, Rhett. It’s just that I don’t need your money.”

  “What if I lend you the down payment and you pay me back later?”

  “No, no and no! Why are we arguing about money? We never did that before.”

  Touching a button, Rhett raised his seat back. “It’s because I never had any. Your parents deposited money in your checking account every month, while I had to depend on what I’d earned from work study. It galled me whenever you suggested paying for dinner or a movie.”

  “We were college students, Rhett. We weren’t expected to have a lot of money.”

  “You had money, Denise.”

  “Okay. I had more than you. Fast-forward six years and now you have more than I’d ever hope to earn in my lifetime.” Denise shifted her eyes off the road for a couple of seconds. “I don’t know why, but I feel your offer to buy me a car, or lend the money to buy one, is based on revenge and upmanship. I know you didn’t like it when I suggested picking up the tab for dinner or a movie, but I thought you were all right with it when we agreed to take turns.”

  “I was never all right with it, Denise. Every time you opened your wallet the words to TLC’s ‘No Scrubs’ stayed with me for days.”

  Denise sucked her teeth. “You were hardly a scrub, Rhett Fennell. Every girl on campus knew who the scrubs were, but some were still willing to put up with them because they wanted a man. Even though my parents sent me an allowance, I still didn’t have a lot of money. Xavier’s undergraduate tuition was just under twenty thousand a year. He and I were in college at the same time, because he’d enrolled in The Citadel’s graduate program. That put quite a strain on my parents’ finances, but they made the sacrifice because they didn’t want us to begin our careers burdened with student loans. That’s why I refuse to accept any money from them to sustain the day care center.”

  “How did you buy your co-op without securing a mortgage?”

  “When I was eight, I was involved in an auto accident when a car driven by a drunk driver jumped the curb, pinning me against a storefront. I wound up with a broken arm and a lot of bruises. Daddy sued the man, and the monies from the settlement were deposited in a custodial account. I was able to withdraw the monies that had earned quite a bit of interest after I’d graduated college. I’d taken your advice when you said the best investment anyone could make was in real estate, so I bought the co-op.”

  Rhett closed his eyes. Denise had trusted him enough to take his advice about investing in real estate, yet she hadn’t when he’d sworn a solemn oath that he would never cheat on her. She’d claimed she believed him, but once the rumor started that he was sleeping with another coed, doubt had become her constant companion. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d tried to dissuade her from listening to gossip, but she wouldn’t heed his warning. Then the rumor escalated and what was left of their fragile trust was shattered completely.

  “What made you decide to start up your own business?”

  Denise’s sultry voice swept over him and he opened his eyes. He’d performed his work study at a Baltimore bank, where initially he was responsible for coding data for personal and business loans. The branch manager had promised to hire him after he’d graduated, but Rhett was faced with a dilemma when a headhunter from a major Philadelphia-based investment firm recruited him for their investment banking department, offering incentives such as full tuition reimbursement, bonuses and/or profit sharing. The only thing they wanted was a two-year commitment. He’d felt a particular loyalty to the bank, yet what the headhunter offered fit into his plan to pursue an MBA.

  “It was a knee-jerk reaction,” he said after a lengthy pause. “I was close to burnout from working and attending Wharton full-time. I’d mistakenly left the research paper I’d been developing for my thesis on my desk at work, and when I went into the office the next day it was missing.”

  Denise’s hands tightened on the steering wheel when he mentioned Wharton. It wasn’t until she’d read a profile on Garrett Fennell in Black Enterprise that she’d uncovered that Rhett had lived in Philadelphia while he’d attended Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. They’d lived in the same city yet they hadn’t run into each other.

  “Didn’t you save it on a disk?”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t something I wanted made public until after I’d submitted it to my professor. Two weeks later all of the w
ork I’d done was presented in what the banking division called developmental sessions. One of the vice presidents had claimed my work as his own.”

  “Did you confront him?”

  Rhett snorted. “I did, but he claimed he’d been working on a similar strategy for more than a year. When I threatened to expose him, he said he had the power to fire me.”

  Denise gave Rhett another quick glance. “Please don’t tell me he did.”

  Reaching over, he rested a hand on her right thigh. “Now, baby, you should know I don’t scare that easily. I told him to fire me, but be prepared for a lawsuit, because my banking and finance professor had a draft of the paper. He asked me if I wanted to share credit on the strategy and I told him no. I think he was a little shocked at my response.

  “The next day I came to him with a typed list of demands—I wanted out of my two-year contract without having to pay back the tuition, and I wanted my bonus in April rather than have to wait until December or early January. And I asked for a letter of recommendation for my next employer.”

  Denise laughed. “You were really ballsy, weren’t you?”

  “No more ballsy than the thieving bastard who stole my research paper.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. Did you get what you wanted?”

  “Yes. I graduated and moved back to D.C. I found a two-bedroom apartment where I set up a home office in the spare room. I’d always liked real estate better than investment banking, so I used a part of the bonus to buy a foreclosed property. The bank gave me a short-term, low-interest rehab loan and after it was brought up to code I sold it for three times what I’d paid for it.

  “It took a while for me to build a relationship with the bank where I’d borrowed money, using what was in my account as collateral. The terms were if I repaid the loan in less than six months or a year, then the loan was interest-free.”

  “So, you’ve come to live up to the sobriquet as the Boy Wonder of Business.”