Twice the Temptation

by Rochelle Alers

  “What do you want her to say, Denise? That she doesn’t approve of her son bringing a woman into his home? Look, baby, my mother stopped monitoring what I did and who I was with a long time ago. I didn’t know she was seeing anyone seriously until she called to tell me she was getting married. I don’t get into Geraldine Russell nee Fennell’s business and she doesn’t get into mine.”

  “Unlike mine,” Denise mumbled.

  Rhett picked up the salad greens with shaved parmesan cheese and placed it in a bowl at her place setting. “I understand your mother and what she wants.”

  “And that is?” she asked, spearing several shrimp and placing them in her salad, before spooning the dressing over the romaine lettuce.

  “She wants grandchildren.”

  “So do a lot of parents, but they usually aren’t so blatant and vocal about it.”

  “Lighten up on Paulette, darling. Gerri’s no different. It’s just that she’s more subtle with her hints. She’s like, ‘Garrett, baby. You know it’s not good for a man to spend so much time alone.’ Or it’s ‘Look, son, I’m not getting any younger and I’d like to have a few grandchildren before I die.’ That’s when I tell her to stop the melodrama. Gerri’s not even fifty and she’s in good health, so I don’t believe she’s going to expire anytime soon.”

  “What’s up with parents wanting grandchildren? You think they would’ve had enough of kids when they had to raise their own children.”

  “I suppose we’ll find out what it’s all about once we raise our children.”

  Rhett realized too late what he’d said when Denise stared at him as if he were a complete stranger. He opened his mouth to correct himself and then decided against it. What he’d said had come from his heart. He wanted children, and he wanted Denise Eaton to be the mother of their children.

  “I didn’t ask you to come here because I was hoping you would sleep with me,” he said instead.

  “Why did you ask me?”

  Rhett knew what he was about to admit to Denise would either shatter their fragile truce or bring them closer together, because the harder he’d tried to ignore the truth the more it continued to haunt him. Every woman he’d met and/or slept with had become her. He’d searched in vain to find a modicum of what he’d shared with Denise in them—but had failed miserably. It was why he’d begun what had become a revolving door of women coming and going out of his life.

  He placed his left hand over her right, holding it firmly lest she flee the kitchen. “I love you, Denise. I don’t care about you and Trey—”

  “Don’t mention his name,” Denise practically shouted, cutting Rhett off. “Please,” she whispered hoarsely. “This time it’s only us, Rhett.”

  He lowered his head and his voice. “You know what this means, Denise?” She nodded, her head going up and down like a bobblehead doll. “This time it’s for keeps. And, when I put a ring on your finger it’s never coming off. Do you understand?” She nodded again. “Is there anything you’d like to add?”

  A strength came to Denise she hadn’t thought possible. They’d reached the point where their relationship would be resolved by a lifetime of commitment and fidelity. “Yes. There is something I’d like you to do.”

  “Just say it, baby, and if it’s within my power I’ll make it happen.”

  Denise closed her eyes against his intense stare. “Make love to me.”

  The request was barely off her tongue when she was swept off the stool and carried across the kitchen. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she felt the constriction across her chest. She was shaking, from head to toe, and there was nothing Denise could do to stop the tremors.

  She’d wanted and needed Rhett every night of their six-year separation. There were times when she’d caught herself searching restaurants, clubs and stores for his face. Every time she’d seen a tall, black man who looked even remotely like the one to whom she’d given her heart, she’d had to stop and make certain it wasn’t him before going about her business.

  Men who’d expressed an interest in her and had worked enough nerve to ask her out asked whether she was into men when she turned them down. That had been the reason she’d decided to go out with Kevin. It had been the only time she’d dated out of her race, so she’d seen him as safe. The single physical encounter between them had become a disaster—for both. Unable to fake her response, Denise had just lain there waiting for him to finish. Kevin, sensing her nonparticipation, had aborted the act, put his clothes on and went home. The next time they’d met it had been to say goodbye.

  Denise tightened her grip around Rhett’s neck as he carried her up the staircase and down the hallway to the adjoining bedrooms. He strode past the door to the one he’d assigned her and into his. She wasn’t given the opportunity to view the furnishings when she found herself sprawled over a large bed with a decoratively carved mahogany headboard.

  Her gaze met and fused with Rhett’s as he pulled the T-shirt over his head, then unsnapped his jeans, pushing them and his briefs off his hips in one smooth motion. Her pulse quickened, her breathing becoming shallow as her gaze lowered to his muscular thighs, and she found she couldn’t look away from his enormous erection. But she did close her eyes when a rush of wetness left her panting as if she’d run a grueling race.

  This was what she’d been waiting for, waiting for Garrett Fennell to come back into her life and remind her why she’d been born female. All her senses took over when his knee touched the side of the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly. Her chest rose and fell heavily when he divested her of her clothes. His hands were steady, fingers nimble. She smiled. He’d always made undressing her as much a part of foreplay as kissing, touching and caressing. Holding up her arms, Denise wasn’t disappointed when Rhett moved over her, his welcoming weight pressing her down to the mattress.

  Rhett’s nose nuzzled her ear as he trailed light kisses along the column of her scented neck. He’d fantasized about making love to Denise so often that he wasn’t certain where reality began and fantasy ended. But it was about to end—now. She was real and everything that made Denise Eaton who she was flooded his consciousness—her scent, the texture of her skin, soft sounds escaping her parted lips. He lay between her silken thighs, his blood-engorged penis pulsing against her belly.

  “Rhett?”

  “What is it, baby?”

  “Do you have protection?”

  His heart felt like a stone in his chest when he heard Denise’s query. Although he had condoms he didn’t want to use them, because he wanted to marry her and get her pregnant as quickly as humanly possible.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I don’t want to get pregnant.”

  Rhett wanted to ask her if she ever wanted to get pregnant, but decided it would open a dialogue that was certain to kill the moment. “Let me know when you want to start a family and I’ll do everything I can to oblige.”

  She laughed softly. “Why do you make it sound as if you’d be doing me a favor?”

  “It’s not about that, Denise.”

  “What is it about?”

  There was a long pause. “It’s about us being on the same page. I have to want what you want when you want it. I can’t want a child when you don’t.”

  Curving her arms under Rhett’s shoulders, Denise pressed a kiss to his warm throat when he raised his head. “I want a baby, darling. It just can’t be now. And aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I have no intention of becoming a baby mama.” Denise watched Rhett’s expression change from desire to one that had become a mask of stone.

  “You claim I’ve changed. But there’s one thing about me that will never change and that is I will never get a woman pregnant and not marry her. Speaking of marriage,” he continued without pausing to take a breath, “when do you want to get married?”

  Things were happening so quickly that she felt as if she were on a merry-go-round of emotions. It hadn’t
been a week since she and Rhett had reunited and he’d picked up as if time had stood still for them. It was the same question he’d asked her six weeks before their graduation and her response had been she didn’t know. Dating Garrett Fennell had been one thing and becoming Mrs. Denise Fennell within weeks of her college graduation had been something she hadn’t been able to fathom at that time. What Rhett hadn’t known was that her ambivalence had stemmed from the rumors that he was sleeping with her and another woman at the same time.

  “New Year’s Eve.” It was the first date that popped into her head.

  Rhett blinked. “You want to wait that long?”

  “It’s only seven months away. It’s going to take that long to plan a wedding if we’re going to do it right.”

  A smile broke through his expression of uncertainty. “Okay. New Year’s it is.”

  Denise closed her eyes. “Now that we’ve done enough talking do you still intend to make love to me?”

  “Do I have a hard-on, Ms. Eaton?”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Sustain an erection without going inside me. Are you taking a pill for erectile dysfunction?”

  Without warning, Rhett flipped Denise over on her belly, pulling her up to her knees. “I told you one day your mouth is going to get you in trouble, and today is that day.”

  Denise struggled to free herself, but she was no match for Rhett’s superior strength. He managed to hold her while reaching over to the drawer in the bedside table and removing a condom. Using his teeth, he tore open the packet, removed the latex sheath and rolled it down the length of his penis.

  He knew she didn’t like this position, because he was able to control their lovemaking. Rhett also knew it gave her maximum pleasure when with every stroke his penis rubbed against her clitoris, making her come too quickly. Repressing an orgasm as long as possible assured her maximum sexual satisfaction.

  “No, darling,” Denise pleaded.

  Rhett kissed the nape of her neck. “I’m not going to hurt you, baby.”

  She knew he wasn’t going to hurt her, but she didn’t want it to be over before it began. But it did begin when she felt his hardness searching between the folds to find her wet and ready for his possession. Gasps overlapped moans as her celibate flesh stretched slowly to take every long, delicious inch of him until he was fully sheathed inside her.

  Rhett couldn’t remember Denise that tight, that small. All he knew was he’d come home. Her flesh held him tightly then eased only to repeat it again and again until the fire between her thighs spread to his, dissolving both in an inferno from which there was no escape. He covered her breasts, squeezing the firm globes gently, his hips pushing against hers as she pushed back against his groin.

  Her breathing changed, becoming deeper. Her gasps turned into deep surrendering moans of unrestrained pleasure. Sounds of erotic pleasure became unrestrained screams of ecstasy when Denise stiffened with the explosive rush of orgasmic fulfillment sweeping over her. She lost count of the number of orgasms after three, succumbing to the uncontrolled passion that shattered into a million little pieces.

  Rhett’s release had come too quickly; he’d thought he could hold back but he couldn’t. It’d been too long since he and Denise had been together. It was as if he’d been starving for weeks and someone had escorted him to the banquet table, urging him to eat whatever he wanted. Instead of nibbling he’d gorged until he couldn’t move, too emotionally drained to speak.

  Still joined, he turned her over, tucking her under him. Cradling her face, he placed a kiss on the bridge of her nose. “This one was for me. The next one will be for you.”

  Eyes closed, Denise’s lips parted in a smile. She ran her fingertips up and down Rhett’s moist back. “Wrong, Rhett. This one was for me, too.”

  They lay together, talking quietly as they’d done when they’d shared a much smaller bed in sparsely furnished bedrooms. It was with great reluctance that Rhett pulled out, moved off the bed and went into the bathroom to discard the condom. When he returned Denise had turned on her side, the sheet pulled up over her breasts. He joined her in bed, pressing his chest to her back.

  “I love you,” he whispered softly.

  Hot tears pricked the backs of Denise’s eyes. Rhett loved her and she loved him. It wasn’t his love she doubted, but her ability to trust him to be faithful to her. However, time was on her side. She had a little more than seven months to put him to the test.

  Chapter 10

  Denise moved closer to Rhett when they were greeted by their hostess. Brooke Andersen was tall, thin, blonde, tanned and looked as if she’d stepped off the glossy pages of a Ralph Lauren ad.

  Brooke extended her hands, the ray of the sun reflecting off the many bracelets with precious and semiprecious stones on her slender wrists. The size of the diamond in her engagement ring and the channel-set diamonds in the eternity band were a blatant show of grandiosity. It was hard to pinpoint her age. Advances in cosmetic surgery seemingly had frozen time for the nipped and tucked woman.

  “Rhett, darling. I’m so glad you could come,” Brooke purred like a satisfied feline. “We’ll be boarding in about ten minutes.” Her bright blue eyes shifted to Denise. “Aren’t you lovely? And what a darling outfit.”

  Denise gave the woman a too-sweet smile. “Thank you so much.”

  Rhett wrapped an arm around Denise’s waist. “Denise, Brooke Andersen. Brooke, Denise Eaton.”

  Brooke beckoned her husband. “Jim, darling. Rhett has arrived.”

  Rhett exchanged an amused look with Denise, wondering if she’d found Brooke as entertaining as he did. He’d always found her to be a little over-the-top, but whenever he needed her to coordinate an event for him she would clear her calendar and make it happen.

  He and Denise had lingered in bed, dozing off and on. They’d shared a shower before going down to the kitchen to salvage the remains of their aborted meal. He knew it was too late to show up to eat at the Andersens, because the invitation had stated it would be a sit-down dinner; however, Rhett had called Jim to inform him that he wouldn’t arrive in time to eat, but would be there before the Elena Victoria sailed.

  Jim Andersen, dressed in white linen like his wife and most of their guests, made his way toward them. Physically, he was Brooke’s counterpart. The only difference was his hair was silver to her platinum-blond. He flashed a toothy grin. “Garrett, I’m so glad you made it.”

  After Rhett introduced her to their host, Denise took note of the people, the Andersens’ home and the yacht moored off the pier. The sprawling Georgian Colonial was magnificent, as were the grounds on which it sat. Every blade of grass in the manicured lawn was exactly the same length. When Rhett had mentioned they were going to attend a cookout she thought there would be lots of people and that it wouldn’t be a sit-down affair with a waitstaff picking up and setting down different courses.

  When her family members hosted a cookout the only sitting was when everyone filled their plates and they needed someplace to set it in order to eat without spilling the contents. What Brooke Andersen needed was a generous dose of reality. Rhett mentioned he’d invited the Andersens and a few of his neighbors to his house the following weekend. Geraldine would also be in attendance, so between the two of them they would give the supercilious Cape St. Claire residents another version of a cookout.

  Crew members were carrying crates to the boat as several other couples were arriving. They were younger and more outgoing. The men tapped their BlackBerries, while their female counterparts were texting or listening to their iPods. Two twenty-something women called Brooke mother and Jim father. More cars were maneuvering onto the property as friends of the Andersen children greeted one another with shrieks and laughter.

  Rhett noticed the direction of Denise’s gaze. Leaning closer, he dipped his head, pressing his mouth to her ear. “Now the fun begins.”

  “I hear you,” she whispered when two men sporting colorful shirts
with Hawaiian prints carried audio equipment down the pier to the gleaming white boat bobbing on the water. The younger Andersens had brought along a DJ.

  The fun began as soon as the anchor to the sleek 128-foot yacht lifted, and it moved smoothly on the surface of the water. A bar was set up in the bridge deck’s sky lounge that was used as a game room and theater. Between the pulsing beat of music ranging from hip-hop, rock and pop, drinks flowed, and a lively card game was in progress, while crew members circulated carrying trays of hot and cold finger foods.

  Brooke, who’d appointed herself Denise’s chaperone, took her on a tour of the sailing vessel designed with an emphasis on relaxed comfort. She called the Elena Victoria her country house party at sea. The ship was staffed by a crew of nine, with three decks of cabins and salons. There were four guest staterooms, a master suite and tender tucked into the aft that opened to become a swimming platform and dock. She proudly announced that the length of the ship qualified it as a superyacht. The interiors were luxurious. Walnut, teak, a gleaming stainless-steel stair on the aft main deck, ebony-and-nickel-accented oak tables bespoke elegance and a grace of style seen in the finest homes.

  Brooke stared at the woman who’d accompanied Garrett Fennell. She was more than lovely. She’d fashioned her hair into a chignon; the style was perfect for her Asian-inspired outfit. One of her friends, although much older than Garrett, had asked her to invite him with the hope that he would be receptive to her subtle advances. But the woman was so disappointed when Brooke informed her that the young entrepreneur was bringing someone with him that she took to her bed, feigning a migraine.

  “Jim and I are sailing to the Mediterranean this year without the children,” Brooke intoned. “I told him I wanted to see the Baltic and cruise the fjords, and see St. Petersburg but only if there’s time.”

  “The Elena Victoria is a spectacular ship,” Denise complimented without guile. From the leather-topped desk in the study adjacent to the master stateroom to the carefully decorated guest cabins and pieces of art, the yacht was the epitome of safety, comfort and beauty.