His Every Desire (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Alexis Winter

  He swallows as he dusts off his hands and sits up straight. “Mia, I won’t lie. I’ve been in love with you since…. I don’t know. The day I met you? Sleeping with you, it only complicated things between us because it made me love you that much more, but honestly, I know you deserve better. You need a man who will be able to drop everything and come running when you call. I can’t do that from Africa or wherever the hell I’m at.”

  “So, we are getting divorced?” I ask, tears starting to fill my eyes, but I will them away. I don’t know why I would cry over this. We got drunk and accidentally got married. Of course, it’s ending.

  He lets out a deep breath and hangs his head. “I think it’s for the best, don’t you? I mean, yeah, we could stay together. But next week, I’m leaving again, and only God knows how long I’ll be gone this time. In the meantime, you could end up finding a man who wants you and will be here for you. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I’d hate myself if you missed out on true happiness while waiting around on me.”

  I lick my lips and nod my head. That right there is my answer. I was once told that if a man loved you, really loved you, he would do anything he had to do to keep you. He’s not trying to keep me. He’s trying to make sure I don’t keep him. He may think that he loves me, but it’s all too clear to me. He wants to be with me and have fun, but he doesn’t want to marry me.

  “I guess we should call the lawyer tomorrow then, huh?”

  His gaze lowers to the bed between us, and it looks like he has to force his head to nod. “Yeah, I guess we should stop fucking around about it.” He turns his attention back to the TV.

  I suddenly find myself no longer hungry. I stand up with my plate and take it to the kitchen. I scrape the food into the trash and place the plate in the sink before moving to my computer. I’m no longer in the mood to sit and play pretend while we watch the same old movie we always watch. It’s time to get back to business while building my wall back up. He’s torn too many of the bricks down this weekend for my liking. It’s time to work on healing my wounds.

  Trent doesn’t come out of the bedroom, and I don’t go back in there. Instead, I sit at my desk and work for hours with my headphones on to drown out all noise. When I look at the clock, I’m surprised to see that it’s nearing midnight. I shut everything down for the night and go relax in a hot shower.

  I wash quickly but then slide down the wall onto the floor. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, curling into a ball as I finally allow myself to feel the pain this weekend has brought me. Tears fill my eyes and fall over the rims, raining down and mixing with the hot shower water. On the one hand, I don’t understand why I’m so upset by this. I love Trent, but I knew he wouldn’t give me the part of himself that I want. He never has. Why would he start now? But on the other hand, it hurts more than anything else ever has. I thought I was finally getting my happily ever after. Yeah, it came about in a fucked up way, but it still happened.

  The shower door opens, and the next thing I know, Trent is on the floor behind me, pulling my body against his.

  “I’m sorry, Mia. I never meant to hurt you,” he whispers as he pushes my wet hair back, away from my face. “I am fucking selfish. I didn’t think about what this would do for you. I only thought about myself, and I hate that I hurt you,” he whispers into my hair. “I know you hate me, but I hope you can forgive me one day. I love you. I love you so goddamn much it literally hurts to see you like this.”

  I’m only faintly aware that I’m no longer in the shower, but being carried through my apartment and placed into bed. He lays me down and curls himself up behind me. He pulls the blanket up our wet bodies and holds me close. I close my eyes and let his heat sink into me, warming all the cold spots inside my heart, cold spots he put there. He froze my heart, and now, he’s unthawing it, word by word, and touch by touch.

  As time goes on, I can still hear his soft whispers and feel his feather-light touches, but sleep pulls at me, and I let it take me, longing for the quiet and painless comfort of sleep.

  “Mia,” Trent yells as he lets himself into my dorm. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks when he finds me in bed, covered from head to toes. He flops down beside me and tugs the blanket away to find my red, teary face. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, drying my tears with his thumb.

  “Jake broke up with me,” I confess.

  “What? Why?” His gorgeous face contorts with pain, anger, and confusion.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. He said that things were getting too serious between us, and we’re too young. That he has plans when he gets out of college, and he doesn’t want his feelings for me holding him back.”

  He scoffs. “That’s stupid. You’re better off without him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I love him,” I confess.

  “How can you love him when you’re already in love with me?” he asks with his flirty smile in place.

  I smack his chest as I roll to my side. “Shut up.”

  He cuddles against my back. “You know it’s true. And you know I love you too, right?”

  I snort. “Yeah, right. Things with us still haven’t changed, Trent. You’ll be with me, but you can’t stay with me.”

  “I will if you ask me to.”

  He only says that because he knows I won’t. I could never ask him to give up his dreams for me. I’ll just die quietly, all alone.

  I wake with a jerk when that dream ends. Why would I have that dream right now? A dream, a memory, whatever you want to call it. Does that mean I should ask him to stay with me? If I did, would he? I mean, he told me that years ago. Surely, it doesn’t hold any value now, does it? Even if it did, there’s still no way I’d ask him to do something like that for me. If I was that important to him, he’d find a way.

  The next morning, the conversation is strained as we’re both sitting in the divorce lawyer’s office.

  “I can start the paperwork today, Trent, but there’s no way the divorce will be final before you leave the country next week,” he tells him. “Even a marriage as short as yours takes a lot of time and paperwork.”

  Trent runs his hand through his hair. “Fine, Larry. Just do what you can and send everything through the mail,” Trent says, opening the door and waiting for me to walk through it.

  “It was nice to meet you, Larry.” I wave goodbye before stepping through, with Trent following along behind me.

  We leave the office, and we’re both walking down the sidewalk, slowly. It seems like we’re both in a different world as we walk, not paying attention to each other or anything.

  “This sucks,” Trent breathes out, stealing my attention. I look over to find him running his hands through his hair and over his face.

  “What?” I ask.

  “This. The divorce, this weird strain that’s now on our friendship. This is not how I wanted to spend my last week with you. I want us to be like old times, you know? Having fun, doing stupid things, enjoying our time together.”

  I nod. “Me too,” I agree.

  “I’m really sorry for fucking this all up, Mia.” Trent stops when the light changes, allowing traffic to go.

  “It’s not your fault, Trent. You didn’t trick me into marrying you… I don’t think,” I reply, crinkling my nose as I try to remember our marriage.

  He laughs. “Let’s make a deal.” He levels his brown eyes on mine.

  I take a deep breath. “What?”

  “Let’s forget about everything. We’ll forget about the marriage, the divorce, and the fact that I have to leave next week. Let’s just treat this like we do any other time I’m in town.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and turn to face the street, thinking it over. Haven’t we already had this conversation? Doesn’t he realize how much this is going to hurt me in the end? Doesn’t he care?

  “I don’t know, Trent,” I mumble, watching my feet kick at the tiny rocks lining the sidewalk.

  He wraps h
is arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Mia. If there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s putting everything else aside and having fun together.”

  The light changes, and we resume our walk. As I’m thinking about his words, he quickly pulls me into a building. The smell of alcohol washes over me, and soft music plays over the speakers.

  “Seriously? Don’t you do anything but drink?”

  “I never drink while I’m working, so when I get time off, I like to indulge.” He sets me down on a barstool and takes the empty one next to me. He orders our drinks, and I don’t even pay attention to what’s being placed in front of me.

  I want nothing more than to carry on with him this way, have fun, make love, savor our time together, but I’m having the same mental fight I always have: to give in or run away as fast as possible. I don’t even know why I bother anymore. I always give in, and I always end up hurt when he leaves. I guess I already know the way this is going to go. But this time, there’s a dash of hope. He told me he loved me. He’s never said that before.

  “Cheers,” Trent says, holding up a shot glass.

  I clank mine with his and throw it back, letting the alcohol burn its way down my throat. “Want to play our game again?” I ask, motioning for the bartender to fill our shot glasses with another round.

  Trent smiles. “Sure.”

  “How long have you loved me?” I ask. I know he’s already answered this question, but I want to let him know that these questions are not going to be easy for him. And we’re in public, so there’s no chance of distracting me with sex. This time, I am getting answers.

  He lets out a deep breath. “I’ve always loved you, Mia. You know that.”

  I swallow down the fear that is suddenly bubbling up in my throat as he prepares himself to ask his question.

  “Did you want to get divorced today?” he asks, not looking at me but rather at his shot glass.

  “No,” I answer truthfully, and that causes his brows to skyrocket as his eyes widen.

  “Really?”

  “I love you, Trent. I’ve always wanted more with you than just friends with benefits. And since you admitted your feelings for me, I thought this may be a turning point for us. Guess I was wrong.” I shrug one shoulder.

  He turns himself, so he’s facing me directly, and his hand lands on my thigh. “Don’t you know how badly I wish I could be the guy you end up with?”

  My mouth drops open, but no sounds come out.

  “I want to be the one holding you in our bed every night. I want to be the one you wake to. I want to be your last. But I can’t. If we were together, you’d still be alone.”

  “Then quit your job!” The words rush out of my mouth before I can even think about them. Obviously, I’d never say that otherwise.

  He chuckles. “You don’t think I haven’t thought of that? I can’t, Mia. I would gladly give up this job to be with you. I’m locked in for four more years. I signed a five-year contract last year.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?” I ask, feeling panic rise up my throat. This whole time I thought I didn’t mean enough to him. Turns out, he literally can’t be with me right now.

  He lets out a deep chuckle. “Last year, I had my normal two-week vacation, and I called you to let you know I was coming into town. Do you remember that?” He levels his eyes on me.

  I think back and nod.

  My phone rings from beside me, and I pause the TV as I pick it up. “Hello?” I answer, not thinking to check the caller ID.

  “Hey, babe. I’m back. What’s going on?” Trent says into the phone.

  Just hearing his voice again gets my heart pounding with excitement. Goosebumps prickle my skin, and a wave of tingles wash over me. I hate that he causes my body to feel this way with only his voice.

  “Oh, hey. I’m just sitting here watching a movie with my boyfriend,” I lie. I look over at the couch and see nothing but my cat sound asleep.

  “Boyfriend, huh?” he asks, and I can hear the disappointment in his voice. “When did that happen?”

  “A few months ago, I guess.”

  “Is it serious?” His voice grows thick with nerves.

  I bite my lower lip as I think it over. I don’t want to lie, but Trent has hurt me so much in the past that I know I need to keep my distance from him in order to survive. How many times can a girl survive a broken heart?

  “Yeah, I think it is. On its way to serious anyway,” I lie, yet again.

  “When you told me it was serious, I knew I couldn’t come back to Chicago because if I did, I would’ve come to you and ruined whatever you had going. And I didn’t want to do that. I wanted you to be happy. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. Instead of coming home that week, I hopped on a flight to New York and spent the next two weeks on a binder trying to ignore my feelings for you, trying to convince myself that the only way you’d be happy was if I stayed away. So, after my time off, I signed the contract for five years, thinking that would give me the time and space I needed from you and the city to get over you,” he confesses.

  Even though we’ve both been answering every question, we drink our shots anyway.

  A laugh bubbles its way out of my throat. “So, this is my fault. The one time I tried protecting myself from you, it chased you away for the next five years.” I shake my head as I let it slump forward.

  Trent’s hand lands on my back, between my shoulder blades, as he gently rubs up and down. “I wish I never did it. But I thought it was the only way to give you the happiness you deserved.”

  I nod in understanding. “Maybe it’s time we admit that we’re not meant to be?” I feel my shoulders rise and fall quickly.

  He doesn’t argue or say anything. He just reaches over and places his hand in mine that’s sitting on top of the bar.

  10

  Trent

  MIA and I sit at the bar and drink beer after beer, shot after shot. We talk, laugh, and maybe even cry a little about our current situation, but by the time the bar is closing, we’ve forgotten about everything. Now, we’re laughing, joking, touching, and kissing the way we always have. You’d think we’d learn our lesson. Spending all this time with her will only make my chest hurt when it’s time to leave, but I can’t think about that now. Now, all I can think about is taking every opportunity I can get to touch her, kiss her, and love her. The secret between us is now out. However, there’s still not much that can be done about it.

  We flag down a taxi when we’re kicked out of the closing bar, and Mia is holding onto my arm for dear life. I don’t know if she’s drunk enough that she can’t walk on her own or if maybe she’s afraid to let me go. Either way, I don’t care. I’m going to touch her, feel her, kiss her, and make her see how much I really do love her. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her, but I can’t ask her to wait for me for four years. She’s already waited too many as it is. All I can do now is be with her when I can and release her when it’s time.

  We fall into the backseat of a taxi, and I mumble off her address as she makes her way to my lap. She presses her lips to mine as her arms wrap around my neck. My hands land on her hips, pulling her closer yet holding her back. I want her, I do. But I don’t want an audience. When it comes to Mia, I want my eyes to be the only ones that see her. I need privacy to take my time with her, make her see how in love with her I am, and how badly I wish I could go back in time and rip up that damn contract.

  I manage to hold her off with kisses and small touches until we get to her apartment building. I toss the driver some cash as I pull her from the backseat. She lets us inside the building, and I pull her into the elevator, pressing her back against the wall as I move my mouth to hers. My hands land on her hips, squeezing and massaging as we ride up to her floor. Her arms are locked around my neck, holding me close and keeping me from escaping. As my hands begin to roam her body, she lets out a moan that shoots a bolt of lightning straight to my aching dick.

  The elevator doors open, and
I carry her against me, down the hall, and to her apartment. She slides down my body and turns around to unlock the door. I step up behind her and press kisses to her neck while my hands feel their way around her body. Finally, when the door is opened, we stumble through it, falling onto the floor. Using my foot, I kick the door closed but don’t bother to move into the bedroom. This is fast, passionate, and needed. We’ve both admitted to things we’ve kept hidden for far too long. If we’d both been honest with our feelings, we’d be together right now instead of stealing moments together before I’m shipped off yet again.

  Sliding into her, it’s like my own personal heaven. She’s hot and tight around me. She feels so fucking perfect that I’m convinced she was made for me. We were made as a pair that can never stay together. As heartbreaking as that sounds, in the moments we do come together, it’s fucking magical—there are fireworks, waves crashing, stars twinkling, and anything you can think of to explain the word perfect. That’s what we are when we’re together.

  Our week together passes too quickly, and before either of us is ready, it’s time for me to leave again. Mia helped me pack my things last night, and she woke up early to make me breakfast and see me off. I take a quick shower, wanting and needing to spend as much time with her as possible.

  When I leave the bathroom, I find her setting the kitchen table. She’s gone all out with eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, coffee, orange juice, and what looks to be homemade biscuits with jam.

  “Wow, this looks amazing,” I say, walking up behind her and wrapping her in my arms.

  She spins around to face me with tears in her eyes. “As many times as we’ve done this, you’d think I’d be used to it already.”

  I press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll never get used to it,” I whisper against her skin.

  She nods and rests her head against my chest. The moment between us seems to drag on forever.

  “Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold. We still have a few minutes before things have to end,” I tell her, moving us toward the table.