Essence of Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  Royce chuckled. “Glad I could help.” His gaze then returned to Michelle. She had approached Richard Stillwell, a local doctor in town and a recent divorcé. Royce frowned when he felt a tinge of something odd in his chest, a feeling that definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “And why is she talking to him?” he muttered behind his glass as he took another sip of his drink.

  Jordan heard his words and followed his gaze across the room and said, “Probably because he’s single and she’s single.”

  “The man is divorced.”

  Jordan looked at him strangely. “Yes, and the last time I checked that meant the same thing as being single.”

  Royce rolled his eyes. “That’s real funny.”

  Jordan laughed. “No, what’s real funny is the fact that you’re beginning to scare me. Our law firm is doing great financially, and you’ve worked hard over the past year to make sure of that. You’re due some time off to enjoy yourself. Why don’t you take a vacation and go somewhere.”

  Royce met his gaze. “Go where?”

  “That’s for you to decide. And from the way you’re keeping an eye on Michelle, I’d like to make a suggestion.”

  “What?” Royce asked.

  “Take her with you.”

  ***

  Michelle let out a deep breath when she got a chance to escape through the French doors to the patio, needing a moment to be alone. It was a beautiful Saturday night in May with numerous stars sparkling overhead in the sky.

  She took a sip of her wine while thinking that if one more man tried hitting on her tonight she would scream. It wasn’t as if she was the only single woman at the party. Was she wearing some sort of banner on her forehead that read available? It couldn’t be that many horny men in this world.

  She rolled her eyes and figured there probably was. Any other time when they flirted she would have flirted back, but that was before she had begun her therapy of inner improvement after finally acknowledging the fact that her primary issue with herself was her need to be dominant.

  She had known she’d had a domineering complex for years and figured eventually with the right man she would grow out of it. She had dated Marcus exclusively for two years and he’d been perfect with just the right level of submissiveness she’d desired. He hadn’t minded letting her lead while he followed, even in the bedroom. But then his interfering mother moved to town and in no time at all, the woman proved just what a mama’s boy Marcus was. And the one thing Michelle knew she could and would not tolerate was a third person interfering in a relationship with her man.

  Since both of them couldn’t be number one, she had given Marcus an ultimatum, his mother or her. He’d said her feelings of insecurity were ludicrous and indicated he would give her time to come to her senses. That had been nearly three years ago.

  Instead of coming to her senses, she had moved on with her life, kicking him to the curb in a way that left her footprint on his rear-end. She was a woman who liked being in control. Always had and always would.

  That personality trait was what made her and her sister Dominique so different. There was only a two year difference in their ages, and being the oldest Dominique had been the easygoing child whereas she had been the rebel. She’d heard that from the time she’d come into the world, screaming at the top of her lungs that she had made waves, resisted authority and pitched a fit when she couldn’t get what she wanted. And as she got older, she took defying orders to a whole other level.

  At twenty-nine she had improved over the years, somewhat. She owned a travel agency, Discovering Places, and was doing so well she was thinking of making her secretary an assistant. But even with the success in her professional life, she knew in her personal life she still had that rebel streak that just wouldn’t go away. And because of it, she had a tendency to lean toward men who just let her do whatever the hell she wanted; those who felt it would be easier on them to just give in to her domineering tendencies. All the men she’d had affairs with since Marcus had been easy, submissive and passive. Not a single backbone in their entire body.

  All except for Royce Parker.

  At the very thought of him she couldn’t help but take a hefty sip from her wineglass. The man didn’t know the meaning of being subservient. The thought of him following anyone’s orders, especially hers, was a joke.

  Her heart literally skipped a beat when she thought about that one and only time she had taken him on, the night of Dominique’s and Jordan’s wedding. She had been confident in her ability to handle him, so certain he would end up being as docile as all the rest.

  However, she had known she was in trouble when she had sneaked up to Royce’s hotel room, assuming the element of surprise was on her side, only to find him already naked and waiting for her.

  She still got goose bumps all over her body when she recalled how he had taken control, something she’d rarely let a man do. But she’d been caught off guard, and by the time she had collected her wits, or at least tried to, she had been a goner. In one night she had discovered how things were when a domineering woman met her match with a domineering man.

  And nearly two years later, she hadn’t yet recovered.

  That was the main reason since that night she’d tried to stay a safe distance from Royce. The man had jogged her memory about body parts she had forgotten she’d had; parts she hadn’t worked in years. But that hadn’t been the only thing he jogged. He had literally made her forget why she liked being in control.

  Once she had checked out the hotel the following morning and escaped back to her own condo, her sanity had returned and she had vowed to do herself a favor and stay away from him. He had made her feel things she had never felt before and she knew it would be in her best interest never to feel them again. It was one thing to enjoy having sex with a man, but it was quite another to find someone not only willing, but very capable of playing out her taboo fantasies. Even now erotic visions of some of the things they’d done in that hotel room made her panties wet.

  A sound drew her attention to the French doors and she glanced over in that direction when a man walked through. Their gazes met and she felt a deep stirring in the pit of her stomach.

  Royce Parker.

  She took another sip of her wine wondering why he had come outside. Had he come looking for her? They had made eye contact earlier and she tried to convey to him just how she felt. She wanted him to stay his distance just like she planned to stay hers. The same way they had done for the past two years.

  She turned toward him, trying to ignore the way her pulse was accelerating, and how her most private part was tingling as if it had honed in on his very presence. Her gaze raked over him and she thought that no man should have the audacity to look that good.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked in an agitated tone.

  He smiled and the intensity of that smile nearly stole her breath away. “The same thing you’re doing out here, I imagine. Getting some fresh air,” he said.

  “In that case you can have the entire patio to yourself.”

  He chuckled. “Don’t let me run you off.”

  He was running her off but she would give birth to a trillion babies before letting him know it. “You’re not.”

  “Umm, why do I get the impression that for some reason you and I rub each other the wrong way? Why can’t we just …rub each other?”

  The heat of his words, as well as the memories they evoked, went straight to her bones. She remembered that night when giving each other a rubdown had been a very hot and passionate pastime.

  She lifted her chin. ”I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  Playing the innocent, he said. “Do what?”

  “Bring up that night.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t. However, you just did.”

  She tossed her head, sending her hair flying about her shoulders, a good indication that she was ready to give him hell. “Look, Royce.”

  “I am looking.”

  And
he was. His gaze was roaming over her from head to toe. She frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

  His gaze drifted back up to her face. “I don’t think you ever say what you actually mean, Michelle.”

  His words again reminded her of that night. She would say, “stop” in one breath, and “don’t stop” in another. “I’m leaving,” she said and made a move to walk past him.

  “All right. I’ll see you Monday.”

  She stopped in front of him. “Monday?” At his nod, she asked. “What for?”

  “I plan to stop by your travel agency right before noon. I want to take a trip and need for you to make some suggestions.”

  He watched as she considered what he said. She might want to keep him at arms length, but as a potential client that meant something all together different. “Fine, call my office and make an appointment.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll be in court in front of the judge Monday morning so I won’t have time to call. That’s the reason I’m telling you now.”

  She frowned. Did he assume he had special privileges? “You need to call and make an appointment like everyone else.”

  “And you need to stop trying to be so in control and so damn bitchy.”

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise and Royce used that opportunity to do what he’d been wanting to do all night; what he’d wanted to do again every since that one time they had spent together. He pulled her into his arms and sank his mouth down on hers, into a mouth that was even hotter than he remembered, and effectively swallowed whatever epithet she’d been about to spawn forth.

  But that wasn’t all he did. He deepened the kiss to invade her mind, rob her senses and sent the same sensations running rapid through him straight to her. He knew the moment she felt them when her tongue began dueling with his. Then moments later with their mouths still locked, she disentangled her tongue from his to go solo and inflict her own kind of torture. She caressed his palate with the tip of her tongue and gave him intense pleasure.

  He knew this was her domineering side she liked to display sometime, and for now he would let her because he knew since that night she was well aware that in the end no matter how much pleasure she could evoke within him that he was a man not controlled by any woman.

  And if he had to prod her memory of that fact he would do so, right here and right now. It wouldn’t take much to lift up her little short skirt, unzip his pants and penetrate her deep. He would give the word quickie an all-new meaning while at the same time giving them both one hell of an orgasm.

  However, that’s not what he wanted to do, at least not tonight. He merely wanted to give her something to think about until he saw her again. And he would see her again. She was a puzzle he intended to piece together. There was a reason why whenever he saw her he got a mirage of funny feelings deep in his gut that made him want to go somewhere and mate with her, as if his body recognized her as the other half that made a complete whole. His partner for life.

  That latter thought didn’t sit well with him and he reluctantly broke off the kiss, but not before taking his tongue and tracing a path around her lips, corner to corner. “I’ll see you Monday,” he murmured low before taking a step back.

  She held his gaze and Royce knew what she was thinking. She was contemplating a way to put him in his place. He wondered what she would say if she knew that his place, the way he saw it, was right back in her bed.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You might see me Monday.”

  He shrugged. “If I miss you at your office Monday then I’ll just drop by your house later.”

  Holding her wineglass in one hand, she leaned forward, placed the other hand on her hip, and said, “You haven’t been invited to my home and you can’t just drop by.”

  He smiled. “We’re going to have to change that, and soon. And I suggest you go on back inside before I’m tempted to give us what we both know we want.”

  Not one to be told what to do, she took a step and got close in his face. “You are not the boss of me.”

  His tongue flicked out and swept across her lips. His stomach clenched at the sound of her sharp intake of breath. “Go ahead and keep talking while I prove just what I am to you, Michelle.”

  She knew he was dead serious and took a step back. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

  “And I suggest you don’t,” he said lowering his voice to a velvety drawl. “It’s about to get real kinky. There’s no telling what else I might say or do.”

  She glared at him for a second and then his heart skipped a beat when she did something he hadn’t expected her to do. She retreated. The heels of her sandals clicked on the porcelain tile as she turned and walked toward the French doors to go back inside.

  He inhaled deeply knowing her retreat came with a price. He would have hell to pay when he saw her on Monday.

  Two

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Parker, but Ms. Kincaid isn’t quite ready to see you yet,” Michelle’s perky secretary said smiling.

  Royce glanced at his watch. He had been waiting thirty minutes already. Since he hadn’t seen anyone go in or out of Michelle’s office he could only assume she was deliberately making him wait. And he would. Two could play her game.

  Michelle’s secretary glanced at the clock on the wall and then at Michelle’s closed office door. “It’s my lunch time and I need to slip out for a moment. Ms. Kincaid knows you’re here and should be out in a little while. She must be tied up with something important.”

  Royce only smiled, knowing that was not the case and also knowing her secretary leaving for lunch was a good idea. “No problem, go ahead and take your lunch. I’m fine. I’ll just wait until your boss is free to see me.”

  “Thank you.” The young woman then grabbed her purse out the desk drawer and quickly walked out the door, putting the “Out to Lunch” sign in place before leaving.

  As soon as the woman rounded the corner Royce went to the door and locked it. Smiling, he strode toward Michelle’s office and after taking a deep breath he opened the door and walked in without knocking.

  She was not sitting at her desk. He glanced around the room and he caught her in his penetrated gaze. Her secretary had assumed she was tied up doing something very important.

  She was sitting on the loveseat in her office like she didn’t have a care in the world, certainly not a potential client who’d been waiting to see her for over thirty minutes.

  And she was painting her toes.

  ***

  Michelle didn’t have to look up to know who had entered her office unannounced. She was inhaling Royce’s scent and on top of that, the air was suddenly charged with his presence. She wished she could say those two elements were basically it, but they weren’t.

  There was also the stirring she felt in the pit of her stomach, as well as the goose bumps that were now forming on her arms. It was bad enough when she’d known that he was sitting outside in the lobby waiting to see her, but now he was in her office, standing there, not saying a word, but taking in the fact that she’d deliberately kept him waiting.

  Ignoring him, she kept on applying polish to her toes. She figured soon enough he would have his say and let her know he was upset. And when he did spout off, she was ready to let him know his feelings on the matter didn’t mean anything to her.

  Time ticked off and when he still didn’t say anything, she wondered what was his problem. When she finished painting her last toe, she lowered her legs off the coffee table and it was then that she glanced over at him. He had the nerve to smile.

  “You didn’t have to put your legs down on my behalf,” he said in a low and husky tone. “I was enjoying the view.”

  The man had no shame, she thought, fighting a frown from appearing on her face at the thought that all this time he’d been copping a look under her dress when her legs had been slightly raised. Okay, so he’d seen a little flesh; it was nothing he hadn’t seen before, so she refused to let him know she was in any way bothered by what h
e’d done.

  “Now that you’ve shown yourself in and gotten a little thrill by peeking under my dress, I might as well go ahead and meet with you,” she said, relaxing against the cushions of the sofa.

  “Yes, you might as well,” he said, coming into the room and closing the door behind him.

  She tilted her head back and looked up at him when he came to a stop in front of the loveseat. Her gaze was first drawn to his outfit. Royce was a smooth dresser and usually whatever he wore made a definite style statement. On any day, at any point in time, he could appear on the cover of GQ easily. She knew that the suit he was wearing, the dress shirt and tie, had a well-known designer label on them. His immaculate appearance went along with his lifestyle, his profession, his entire persona.

  Her gaze then moved upward to his face, specifically his eyes. They were dark eyes fringed by long lashes that were perfect for his face. A very handsome chocolate brown face. Her pulse skittered when her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips and not for the first time, her gaze became fixated on the shape of his mouth. It was a mouth that he could use for a lot more than talking, although she’d heard his oratorical skills in the courtroom were superb. She knew first hand that the man had a fetish for kissing a woman anywhere, anytime and on any area of her body. No part of her body had been safe from his mouth that night.

  “Pretty color,” he complimented.

  She followed his gaze and saw he was studying her toes. “Thank you. I happen to like it,” she said.

  “So do I. But then you know how much I like your toes.”

  A remembered vision of those same toes being licked and sucked into his mouth moments before he’d proceeded to kiss her foot flowed through her mind. It had been utterly sensual and had been the first time a man had done such a thing to her feet.

  “Are you ready?”

  His question had her moving her gaze back up to his eyes. “Ready for what?”