Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection

by Parker, Kylie

  “You look fantastic,” James complimented Olivia, as Gina gave her friend away.

  “Thank you,” Olivia chirped, rolling to the left to face him, as Gina brushed past her.

  “Let us begin,” Reverend Fredericks started. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, to join this man and this woman in the bonds of holy matrimony. Ancient philosophers, men of the clergy, as well as great thinkers of the past have tried to solve the puzzle of true love. Few of them were able to, and even fewer were fortunate enough to experience this kind of pure, unconditional love. Should any one of you venture a guess as to what this feeling is, then all you need to do is remember the look in James’s and Olivia’s eyes. Let us proceed to the vows. Olivia?”

  “Oh, God…” Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as she took a deep, cleansing breath. “James, ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been wondering if I would ever find my prince; my soul mate. Then, four months ago, you saved my life. As crazy as it may sound, you did a lot more than just that. You showered me with love. And now, here we are. Our future lies before us. I only want to spend it with you: my soul mate; my prince; my friend.”

  “James?”

  “Olivia…” James croaked, blinking back tears. “You said I saved your life. I don’t think so. You saved mine. You see, I was lost when you found me: faithless; clinging to the past; angry at the world. You showed me…” he faltered, as a tear streamed down Olivia’s cheek. “You showed me how to love again. You breathed fire into me. You’ve been my muse, since the moment I saw you. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “James, do you take this woman to be your wedded wife; love her, comfort her, honor her and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only for her, until death parts you?”

  “I do.” James gave an emphatic nod.

  “Olivia, do you take this man to be your wedded husband; love him, comfort him, honor him and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only for him, until death parts you?”

  “I do.” Olivia uttered.

  “May I have the rings, please?” Father Fredericks requested, looking down at Helen. She pulled a blue box out of her purse and handed it over to him. The Father opened it and held it low in front of him. “Olivia, place this ring on James’s finger, as a symbol of your eternal love.” Olivia took a ring out of the box, as James held out his hand, hand outward. She put the ring on his finger, gazing deep into his eyes. “James, place this ring on Olivia’s hand, as a symbol of the love that will encircle you always.” Olivia offered him her left hand, as he pulled the ring out of the box. He slid it down her finger, as his smile turned into a huge, happy grin.

  “By the powers vested in me by her majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, I now pronounce you ‘husband’ and ‘wife’. You may kiss the bride.” Father Fredericks said, as Michelle put her fingers over the piano keys.

  James leaned in towards her, feeling his heart thumping in his chest, as the piano introduction of Bon Jovi’s “Thank you for loving me” filled the air. Closing his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her back, as Olivia lifted both hands to his face. Their lips locked in a sweet, tender kiss, as a light breeze blew through their hair. Each and every guest burst into loud, warm applause, as James held her tighter and tighter in his arms. He landed one last kiss on her nose, opening his eyes, as he pressed his forehead onto hers.

  “I love you…” He whispered. “You’re never going to regret this.”

  “I know.” She said, her voice barely audible, as the applause became louder. “I love you, too.”

  Unable to hold back her tears, Helen clapped frantically, at the same time wondering about Gina’s reaction. She turned to face her, only to discover that Olivia’s maid of honor had been crying as well. The whites of her eyes had turned pink. Gina applauded politely, as a single tear raced down her left cheek.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you cry.” Helen confessed, raising her tone.

  “You should have, Shandaken girl.” Gina used an emphatic voice. “Olivia’s been my friend my whole life.”

  Helen pondered response, but, before she could come up with a rebuttal, she noticed something else, out of the corner of her eye: A large, young man, in a black, leather outfit, on the road above the beach. The sun was reflecting off his sunglasses. He was sitting on his dark-blue, Harley Davidson, smiling down at her. His thick, black hair fell down the sides of his face, brushing his short beard, as he also clapped his hands.

  “Any idea about who the mystery man is?” Helen wondered, glancing up towards him.

  “I’ve never seen him before.” Gina declared, looking up at him over her left shoulder. “Judging by his attire, he’s not been invited.”

  2

  Helen, Michelle and Gina posed for a few pictures with the newlyweds, but soon, the photographer needed the couple only. The three women decided to go to the reception area, just across the street, all smiles as they walked alongside each other. Gina’s attitude was a pleasant surprise for Helen. The usually stiff, grumpy redhead was much more relaxed and even joked about some of the guests’ clothes. Indeed, she seemed like a different person, someone that Helen could actually like.

  A strong, warm, gust of wind blew the palm tree leaves about, as James and Olivia’s guests began to pour into the hotel front yard. The pool water sparkled under the elegant gazebo light; the smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the scents of the sea, and lingered in the air. Helen, Michelle and Gina seated themselves at the bridal table, still gazing at their surroundings.

  “Liv has a great taste when it comes to picking venues.” Helen remarked. “Look at this place. It’s gorgeous: huge pool; romantic lights everywhere. It’s too bad the band is going to start playing soon.”

  “Too bad?” Michelle squinted at her.

  “Yeah,” Helen chirped. “We won’t be able to hear the waves.”

  “Awww, poor mountain girl,” Michelle made her voice sound sweeter. “You don’t get to hear that often, do you?”

  “More like ‘never’.” Helen sighed. “This is just the second time I’ve been close to the ocean.”

  “That’s dreadful,” Gina commented. “I think you should do something about it.”

  “How?” Helen asked, curiosity written all over her face, as she turned her attention to Gina. “My dad’s retired and my mom needs my help at the supermarket.”

  “Here’s a thought.” Michelle raised an eyebrow. “I’m going on tour, as soon as the lovebirds come back from their honeymoon. I need a personal assistant. Go back to Shandaken, talk about it with your folks. If they’re on board, give me a call. What do you say?”

  “That sounds amazing!” Helen cheered, her eyes open wide.

  “Okay, don’t get carried away, honey.” Michelle smiled. “It will only be for a month. You’ll still have to go back to Shandaken, when it’s over.”

  “Who cares?” Helen spoke, her voice high-pitched as she leaned over her. “I mean, a whole month away from the mountain?”

  “It gets better.” Michelle winked at her. “Most of my gigs are in L.A. and San Francisco.”

  At that moment, the distant sound of applause drew their attention. Within seconds, it became louder, as James and Olivia entered the front yard, smiling and holding hands, as they waved at the people. Rick was right behind them; the sight of him was enough to wipe the smile off of Helen’s face.

  “Oh, God…” She let out a desperate sigh, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I’d almost forgotten he was here.”

  “Helen, what are you talking about?” Michelle raised her tone. “He was right there on the beach. We even took pictures with him.”

  “I’ve been trying to ignore him,” Helen stated. “I’m not talking to him.”

  “Why?” Michelle shrugged.

  “Because!” Helen’s loud voice turned quite a few heads.

  “Okay, this is awkward,” and Mi
chelle hummed, looking up at the gazebo roof, as she scratched her chin.

  “Um, Michelle,” Helen whispered, leaning over to her. “He keeps making inappropriate comments about my ass.”

  Gina bit her lower lip, in a clear attempt not to laugh, but Michelle could not stop the fit of laughter that Helen’s words started in her. She burst out giggling, putting her fingers over her mouth as she leaned forward.

  “Michelle!” Helen spoke through clenched teeth. “It’s not funny!”

  “Actually, it is,” Gina interjected, a smile of embarrassment on her face as she dropped her eyes from Helen.

  “Oh, my God,” Michelle chuckled. “That’s why you won’t talk to the guy?”

  “Isn’t it enough?” Helen answered her question with a question. “I mean, he always calls me ‘sweet ass chic’, for crying out loud.”

  “I’m going to show you my twitter account someday,” Michelle said, nodding at the same time. “Trust me: you’re going to find a hell of a lot worse crap than ‘sweet ass chic’ in there. Besides, he’s cute.”

  Helen was about to speak once more, but then, a large shadow on the ground caught her gaze. It belonged to the same man she had spotted earlier. He wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore. Instead, he wore a black, sleeveless tee. The bronze skin of his long, muscular arms glistened in the moonlight, as he made his way towards the hotel lobby.

  “Not cuter than that,” Helen remarked, her voice low.

  “That’s not cute, mountain girl,” Michelle disagreed. “That’s hot. Is that ink I see on his shoulder?”

  “Yep,” Helen said with a nod. “I can’t tell what it is, though. Do you know him?”

  “I’ve never seen him before,” Michelle replied. “From behind he looks like a badass version of James.”

  “Okay, I have to ask,” Helen said, as her lips curled into a sly smile. “How come you and James never got together?”

  “Good question,” Michelle said with a grin, averting her gaze from the stranger. “I like James. He’s one big, handsome son of a bitch. It did cross my mind to ask him out, but, I don’t know, something didn’t feel right. Maybe we’re a little too alike. He can be pretty arrogant sometimes, loud, and everything. I can be the same. But mainly, I think it’s because of an incident, while we were recording Olivia’s song.”

  “What incident?” Helen inquired.

  “Well…” Michelle sucked in a deep breath. “James used to stay longer at the studio; he wanted to practice more on the piano. One night, I forgot my car keys. I went back upstairs, looking for them. I thought I’d hear him play the piano, but he wasn’t. He was playing the guitar, singing all by himself. I pushed the studio door open. It was quite squeaky; I thought he’d hear me and he’d stop, but no. He just kept playing, staring down at something. I got curious. I looked over at him. He had put Olivia’s picture on a stool and he was singing to it.”

  “Talk about love.” Helen whispered, staring into the void.

  “Exactly,” Michelle agreed. “He was clearly not over her, not to mention that if we dated, it would complicate things between us. Can you imagine what would happen if we didn’t work out?”

  “He’d ditch you in a heartbeat.” Helen let out a short laugh, watching as Olivia approached their table. “There she is: the lady of the hour.”

  “It’s Mrs. Grumpy, ladies and gentlemen,” Michelle joked. “Where’s Mr. Grumpy?”

  “I am.” Olivia admitted, smiling down at her, as she pulled a chair towards her. “He’ll be joining us in a second. He’s catching up with an old friend.”

  “The biker!” Helen’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Yeah, that…” Olivia cringed, “Hairy guy.”

  “I forgot she liked them smooth.” Michelle muttered under her breath.

  “I heard that.” Olivia said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Why are you asking?”

  “Just curious,” Helen shrugged.

  “James was really surprised to see him,” Olivia added. “He said he hadn’t seen him in twelve years.”

  “I’m confused.” Helen spoke in frustrated tones. “They’ve known each other for so long and James didn’t even invite him?”

  “I’m a little too happy to care, my dear.” Olivia faked a British accent. “Tonight’s my wedding night. And I…” She paused and leaned towards Michelle and Helen, “…want to enjoy it.”

  “Well, well, well…” Rick interjected, a silly smile on his face, as he sauntered towards the chair beside Gina. “This table shouldn’t be called ‘bridal’. It should be called ‘the table of cute asses’.”

  “Oh, boy…” A huff of exasperation left Helen, as Michelle and Olivia glanced at each other.

  “And what a fine specimen we have here,” he continued, seating himself next to Gina, “a tall redhead. A little thin for my taste, but still, a great piece of…”

  “Don’t say it,” Gina grumbled, turning her head to the left to face him.

  “Damn it, Rick!” Helen cried, slamming her hand onto the table as she glared at him. “Stop talking about asses!”

  This time, her loud voice grabbed the attention of most of the guests. Helen could feel many pairs of eyes on her, as Michelle and Olivia burst into sweet, hearty laughter. In a split second, the yard was filled with more and more laughing sounds, adding to her immense embarrassment.

  “No…” she whispered, lifting her hands to her face. Helen closed her eyes and covered them, bending down towards the table. “Kill me. Kill me now.” She said, hitting her head on the surface.

  “Rick, I know you’re James’s best man, but, if you don’t do as Helen said, I’m going to give you something else to talk about,” Gina stated, her voice calm as she intensified her stare.

  “What would that be, sugar?” He smirked.

  “Crushed nuts,” she growled. Olivia found that so funny that she laughed even harder, burying her head against Michelle’s shoulder.

  “I’ve found her.” Rick’s eyes glinted with amusement, as he pointed at her. “I’ve found a woman grumpier than James! I’ve found her!”

  “Don’t point your finger at me!” Gina raised her tone, snatching his finger out of the air.

  “Girls, I need to borrow your friend here.” Rick assumed a more serious voice. “Excuse us.”

  “Helen.” Michelle gently squeezed her on the shoulder. “One o’clock. The biker’s leaving.”

  Her words acted like a wakeup call. Helen opened her eyes and forced her gaze up.

  “What do you think I should do?” She asked.

  “Go talk to him.” Michelle encouraged.

  “I thought you liked him, too.” Helen spoke, confusion written all over her face.

  “Please, darling.” Michelle snorted. “There are thirty reporters in here, plus, the place is packed with ‘Platinum Media’ executives. Imagine the headline, if I go after him. ‘Former twerking queen loves bikers. Read all about it on page three.’ Just go, will you?”

  “Thanks.” Helen said, rising from her seat. By the time she moved around the table though, the stranger was already at the gate. She was unwilling to draw any unwanted attention upon herself; so she maintained a slow pace, with her gaze fixed on the road up ahead.

  “Alright, Mr. Biker. Who are you? Where do you know James and why in the world are you leaving so soon? I mean, you just got here. What’s your rush?”

  The distinctive sound of thunder-headers rocked the beachside resort, as the motorcycle roared into life. Helen quickly climbed down the stairs, her pulse rising by the second. The ground vibrated under her feet, as he turned on the throttle. His crooked smile reappeared, as their gazes met.

  “Hi…” She waved, hesitantly. “My name’s Helen. Helen Weir.”

  “Hey, Helen Weir,” He gave an amused nod, his voice rich and deep. “I’m Marcus.”

  “Marcus what?” Her next question did not find an answer. Marcus turned his gaze downward, as she took another step towards him. “Why won’t you st
ay a little longer?”

  “Look, I have a plane to catch.” He spoke in a much louder tone. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  Marcus kicked the powerful motorcycle into gear, before rolling on the throttle once again. The Harley bucked and leapt forward, the deafening racket reverberating through her skull, as he rode off. The echo of the thunder-headers was still lingering in the air, when Helen heard Michelle’s smoky voice.

  “That couldn’t have gone well,” She remarked.

  “This is James all over again.” Helen spoke, a touch of sadness in her fruity voice.

  “No, it’s not.” Michelle disagreed. “Not unless you have a crush on this guy, which I seriously doubt. Did you even get his name?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Helen smiled. “I just liked his looks. His name’s Marcus. He wouldn’t give me his last name.”

  “James just joined us,” Michelle informed. “He wouldn’t even say that. He just said what we already knew: That the two of them had known each other for a long time. Come on. Let’s go back to the party.”

  “Why is there all this secrecy?” Frustration was lingering in Helen’s voice. “Why…”

  “This is our friends’ wedding” Michelle interrupted, her tone stiff. “Do you really want to start asking James questions about that guy? You know him a lot better than I do. Sooner or later, he’ll snap.”

  “You’re right.” Helen nodded. “Mr. Grumpy will yell at me.”

  “Yeah, he will.” Michelle laughed, offering her hand. “Let’s go.”