Fire & Desire (Hero Series)

by Monique Lamont

  You have no idea. Without elaborating, Tiffany gave her friend a small smile, retrieved her briefcase from the coat closet and exited the room with a cloud of guilt hanging over her. She knew there was no way for her to watch the next act without making a fool of herself somehow.

  After her reaction to the last set, she didn’t trust herself.

  Watching the dancer mimic Trevor’s act just reaffirmed that everything that happened between her and Trevor was just a game to him—all part of his show.

  Something they probably learned in an erotic dance class. Tiffany entered the family room and closed the double doors behind her. The room was one of her favorites in the house, decorated with white plush carpet and rose and ivy print furniture. Even though her father lived and spent most of his time at the Governor’s Mansion in Richmond, it was the one room she and her father used for family holiday gatherings. Tiffany divided her time between both, but lately, she’d found herself staying at the family home more often. She liked to keep herself separated from the intricate political aspects of her father’s career. Politics had never truly interested her.

  Coordination was her passion in life.

  After her mother’s passing, Tiffany and her father promised each other they would still keep the traditions her mother had set at this house.

  Tiffany placed everything on the table with the exception of the banana and walked over to the fireplace. She needed time to get her thoughts together. Josephine was right; she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Pins and needles. Her senses had been going haywire even though she knew Trevor was not coming.

  She removed the yellow peel from the fruit. As she placed her mouth around the slender, curved fruit, her imagination conjured up an image of something long, warm, sleek and hard.

  Little tremors of heat ran through her body at the thought.

  Quickly, she pitched the deceptive food into the trash, chastising herself for the vision and praying it wasn’t a memory of an alcohol induced night.

  Tiffany hated to admit it, but she was hiding out. Earlier that day while she and Josephine had been setting up for the party, she had asked her friend to act as hostess for the entertainment part. She fabricated a lie about having too many other things on her mind to attend to the needs of another stripper. Josephine believed she was uncomfortable with the subject of stripping in general.

  She let the conversation drop, deciding not to enlighten Josephine. It would have taken too much explaining to tell her friend how far it had really gone out of her comfort zone.

  Besides, she was hoping that soon it would all be over, just a distant memory.

  She’d barely come to grips with her behavior, let alone having to explain her actions to someone else, even if that someone was her best friend.

  “Who am I fooling?” She stared into the empty grate.

  She could pretend with her friends, but she couldn’t make her own conscience believe the lie. The truth of the matter was, around Trevor, she couldn’t even rely on all the training she’d been given in charm school.

  Tiffany heard someone enter the room. Assuming it was Josephine, or one of her friends coming to check up on her, she didn’t turn around. Not really wanting to be bothered, she hoped they would think she was mulling over fundraising plans and leave the room as quietly as they came in.

  After a few moments passed, she realized she would have no such luck.

  “So, how’s the stripper?” she asked, still facing the fireplace, wondering if he had started his final act.

  “I don’t know. You tell me?” The voice came out smooth, thick and rich like a Bavarian creamed éclair.

  Tiffany’s eyes closed automatically with the sound of the silky deep tone. She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. All of her senses came alive in remembrance of their last meeting.

  Staring into the fire, she asked, “How did you get in here?”

  “The back door was open and your friends were too occupied talking about the stripper to notice me. I saw you head this way when I came in.”

  “I’ll have to remember that,” she commented as she walked back toward the couch.

  She took a slow breath with every step, hoping to calm her nerves before she raised her eyes to look at the man who called himself her husband. Regaining her composure, she sat down on the couch and met his eyes.

  Rich, sparkling, light nut-brown irises met hers. It was the smile that could seduce Aphrodite that made Tiffany quickly look away.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said without moving further into the room.

  “My prodigal husband returns. Why should that be disturbing to me?” She leaned toward the papers on the table as if his unexpected presence in the room, and, in her life, was not disconcerting for her.

  She wondered if one of her friends had spotted him or recognized him. If someone did, she knew she would be in for a lot of questions later. “Unless you have come here to talk about our divorce, I have nothing to say to you. I have work to do. However, you can leave your contact information for me so my lawyer can get a hold of you.”

  “Would it bother you if I decide to stick around for a few minutes?”

  She noticed he had ignored her statement about a divorce. “I usually become so focused on my work it would take an earthquake to distract me. So why don’t you just tell me what you’ve come to say and be gone?”

  She didn’t realize he had moved toward her until he sat down next to her.

  “Well, since it’s unlikely we’ll have a noticeable one on the East Coast, I guess it wouldn’t vex you greatly to have me here with you?”

  “Not at all,” she said nonchalantly.

  Damn. Her heart was already beginning to race at the sight of him. There he sat, in a pair of snug fitting black jeans and a button down navy blue shirt, with the top three buttons open and the cuffs folded back, showing off his sinewy forearms, looking like a woman’s bedtime fantasy.

  It was a torturous way to leave a woman before she headed to bed.

  Trevor leaned forward. “What are you working on so intently? A proposal to Congress?”

  Tiffany couldn’t help but smile. “No, just a fundraiser.” She made the mistake of looking his way. There was barely any space between them. If either of them wiggled their noses, they would likely touch.

  As if he’d read her mind, Trevor reached his hand up and grazed the tip of her nose.

  “What would you say, Mrs. Selina-Wayne, if I told you I haven’t been able to get you off my mind?”

  “I would say you either haven’t put that into action by filing for divorce, or you just don’t have enough things to occupy your time.”

  “Would you?” Trevor slid his fingers across her cheek. “I don’t think it’s a matter of things to occupy my time. Just none are as challenging.”

  Tiffany could feel goose bumps rising on her flesh as Trevor’s thumb stroked her bottom lip.

  It took all her will power not to succumb to temptation and slowly drag her tongue against the pad of his thumb.

  Turning her head, Tiffany said, “Look, Trevor, I think you got the wrong impression of me after what happened the last time.”

  A frown wrinkled his brow. “The only impression I have of you is that you’re a woman with very deep passions. Which I’d love the opportunity to tap into further.”

  “I don’t want to be tapped?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I think you do.” His lips tilted in a lopsided smile.

  “I hope you’re not a betting man.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because you’d lose.” Tiffany unfolded her arms, dropping them back in her lap, her palms slapping against her thighs.

  Trevor smiled. “You think so?” He waited until she gave an affirmative nod. “What if we put your little dare to the test?”

  “I wasn’t issuing a challenge.” Butterflies danced in Tiffany’s stomach as she leaned back and gave herself some needed space. She didn’t know if it was
from nervousness or anticipation of what Trevor would suggest.

  He lifted a shoulder as if to say it didn’t matter. “I propose you allow me to kiss you. If you don’t become affected by it, then you win, but if you respond . . .” He let the statement hang in the air between them for a time before he said, “we both win.”

  “Deal,” Tiffany said, not quite sure why she agreed. She told herself it was because she wanted to prove to him she was not in the least attracted or affected by him. Also to prove to herself that everything that occurred the last time was the result of a full moon or some freak of nature with the combination of way too much alcohol.

  “Then let’s seal it with a kiss.”

  His words brushed against her lips like a soft caress as he leaned forward, closing the tiny gap between them.

  Suddenly, Tiffany knew she was in trouble. The contact of his lips on hers sent electric shock through her system. She jumped back slightly from the sensation.

  “Too late to back out now,” Trevor said as he placed a firm hand behind her head to keep her mouth in contact with his.

  She squeezed her lips tightly together, in hopes Trevor would tire of the game before she eventually gave in.

  But he didn’t give up. He became creative with his assault. Trevor used his tongue, teeth, and lips to persuade her to allow him passage into the warm recesses of her mouth.

  Her resolve wore down, and she gave in completely, opening her mouth to the kiss.

  Their mouths fused together as their tongues dueled against each other for rite of passage.

  Her hands wrapped around the strong cords of his neck as Trevor’s hands moved to her waist.

  The kiss was intense. Tiffany lost focus of everything except how Trevor’s mouth manipulated hers. She wasn’t aware his hands had lifted her blouse until she felt the cool air against her skin moments before his hands covered her breasts.

  Utterly captivated by everything Trevor was doing, Tiffany only registered sensual pleasure. She found herself leaning against the arm of the couch as one of his strong hands began stroking her breasts through her bra. He pushed up the lacy cups until the weight of her breasts was in his hand. He continued to massage her as his thumb awakened her nipples, both of them puckered into distinct points, begging to be adored.

  Trevor’s lips left hers as he trailed kisses down her neck. “The thing I like most about kissing is there’s more than one place to kiss a woman.” His breath brushed against her skin.

  “Like here,” he said as he kissed her collarbone. “And here.” He brought his hot, moist, open mouth in contact with one sable nipple.

  You need to stop this, her mind shouted, refusing to give up control.

  A moan escaped Tiffany’s mouth at the initial contact. As the weight of Trevor’s body rested on hers and his mouth’s suction became more intense, the sounds became soft cries of pleasure.

  Tiffany’s hips began to move of their own accord, bringing themselves in connection with Trevor’s. She felt his groaned responses against her body where his mouth continued to feast.

  Trevor used his other hand to bring her hips closer to his, allowing her to feel exactly how involved he was in their little foreplay.

  The grinding pressure of his firm manhood against her cleft, left no doubt that he was being just as affected as she was. Trevor’s lips left her breasts and recaptured hers, allowing direct contact to answer the request of their gyrating lower bodies.

  Tiffany had never felt so ravished. Trevor consumed her as he licked his way back down her body. Fierce heat overwhelmed her as he honored her breasts again with more vigor than before. Flicking, sucking and rolling his tongue around her nipples, then giving them small nips with his teeth.

  “Trevor. Trevor,” she began to chant. The pitch of her cries heightened. Suddenly, she found herself biting into something firm and sweet. Her mind registered the taste of an apple, as her teeth sank into the firm fruit Trevor had placed in her mouth to muffle her cries.

  “You’re going to bring the house down.” Humor laced his voice. His hands continued to fondle her breasts, while his mouth journeyed on. He gave a few playful licks to her bellybutton as he passed, and then proceeded to another destination.

  One hand left her breasts and began to undo her pants. The hook holding her pants together became free as Trevor’s tongue slid across her lower abdomen.

  Her body began trembling as each tooth of her zipper opened. She knew what was coming; it was something that she had heard her friends talk about more than once. With her limited sexual experience, to include the night in the hotel she didn’t remember, it was an area she had yet to enter as far as she could remember.

  Trevor’s tongue slipped underneath the top edge of her panties as both his hands hooked on the side of her slacks to remove them from her. One of his thumbs slid over the panty-covered mound, then began to make slow and gentle brush strokes.

  “God, Tiffany, I can’t get enough of you,” he said, words strained and heated.

  Tiffany couldn’t control her hips from arching toward his wandering thumb.

  She knew what was coming next. She anticipated the feel of air against her thighs as Trevor removed her pants. In the distance, as she waited with expectation, her mind registered the opening tunes of the Rhythm and Blues artist Maxwell’s sultry ballad “Until the Cops Come Knockin’.”

  “Damn,” Trevor growled, took a deep breath, then quickly pushed away from her and the couch. “Not how I meant for this to go.”

  Shock hit her like ice water. Oh, God, what am I doing? Tiffany didn’t look at him as she sat up, removed the apple from her mouth, flexed the tightness out of her jaw and righted her clothes. She could hear him taking what sounded like deep, cleansing breaths.

  He headed for, and then opened the back door. “I guess we both win.” Then he was gone once again, still without leaving any type of contact information.

  Tiffany laid her face in her hands, wanting to scream at how far she had let things go again.

  “Tiff, are you okay?”

  Hearing Josephine, Tiffany looked up.

  “Wow, Tiffany. You must be coming down with something. Your face is all flushed.”

  “I’m not feeling like myself. Do you mind making my excuses to everyone? I’m going to lie down for a bit.” It was not a complete lie. She was becoming sick at the thought of not being able to control her response to Trevor.

  “You know I don’t mind. I’ll get a few of the girls to help me straighten up, then I’ll lock the door when I leave. You just get some rest.”

  “Make sure you check the side doors for me, Jo.” The thought of Trevor coming back sent shivers down her spine.

  After her friend responded and exited the room, Tiffany gathered her papers and escaped through the same door Trevor had entered moments before.

  Five

  “So, Dad, what’s on the agenda for this month? On my calendar at the moment, I have a few meetings I need to attend for the local Breast Cancer Society’s fall fundraiser. Also, I told Jo I would spend a couple of days this month with her to plan for next quarter’s scheduling. Other than those things, I’m all yours.”

  Sitting in the dining room at the Governor’s Mansion, Tiffany looked across the dinner table at her father, who sat intently listening to her as he sliced his roast into small edible bits.

  Tiffany smiled as she observed him because she realized she modeled his meticulous nature. Rarely a break in their routines, it was her predictable gene.

  Tonight was no exception. It was the first Sunday of the month. She and her father were having dinner as usual. Throughout the dinner, they discussed what functions she would need to attend with him and what engagements he was hosting that needed planning.

  At times, Tiffany secretly wished she were more like her mother, spontaneous and adventurous. Her mother had loved trying new things all the time; she’d liked living on the edge.

  It made her wonder what had even brought her parents tog
ether since they were so different in their approaches to life. However, she knew as free spirited as her mother had been, nothing had surpassed her loyalty and devotion to her family.

  Her mother had passed away due to breast cancer, and that was one of the reasons she gave so much time to the local chapter of the Breast Cancer Society.

  When she was not working with her father, she worked with her best friend, Josephine, in the consulting business they had opened two years ago. The company’s business had steadily climbed since its beginning. But she knew, if she had more time to put into it, the business could go a lot further. Because of her social responsibilities in assisting her father in his term as governor, it made it hard to give it her complete focus. She was thankful for her business partner.

  Often, Tiffany thought, if it were not for Josephine, the company would have sunk by now.

  “Well, turtledove,” the governor began, using the nickname he had called her since she was a little girl, “this month is rather hectic. I’ll be out of town for most of it, but there are still four or five dinner parties where I’m expected to show face. On this Saturday evening, sorry for the short notice, but Tracie, the senator’s daughter, is getting married, and it’s her engagement party.”

  Tiffany looked up from her plate. “Oh, so Robert Sterling finally proposed to her?”

  “Evidently.”

  “Why wasn’t it in the papers?”

  “Manning Senior told me they just wanted it to be a small private affair, with family and close friends. The short amount of time people had to prepare, the better chance they hoped the press wouldn’t show up.”

  “I understand. It’s amazing she has been dating him since high school. It makes you wonder what took him so long.”

  “One never knows. Marriage is a big responsibility, never to be entered into lightly.”

  Something she loved most about her father was he didn’t rush her to the altar just because society still held the idea women should be married and raising a family by the time they left their twenties.