Forever His Desire

by Valerie Lynne

  “Michael is innocent,” he deadpanned, snapping her back into reality.

  “This is all way too much,” Jennifer mumbled beneath her breath. “I need a drink.”

  “No, you don’t,” Andre answered, his chest brushing against her spine as she whirled around and fumbled with the dead bolt. “I know how hard you’ve worked to quit. Don’t fuck it up now.”

  “You know what—you’re right. I’m not going to drink myself to oblivion because I came home with you. One moment of temporary insanity isn’t worth the hangover,” Jennifer said, throwing the door open and practically running down the staircase. She peered up, momentarily hesitating at the sight of his pained expression as she stared up at the top of the staircase. Then, without a word, she stepped out into the alley.

  Chapter 28

  Jennifer

  Andre had called and texted her multiple times throughout each of the days since they’d given in to their baser needs. Now, one week later, Jennifer balanced on tiptoe to squint through the peephole, her hands flattened against the back of the condo’s front door. Apparently, her lack of response to said texts and calls hadn’t worked because her ex-fiancé now stood on the opposite side of the door.

  She lowered her bare feet onto the floor silently fuming as she contemplated letting him in. “Ugh,” she ground out. “I should’ve taken that fucking key away from him years ago,” Jennifer fumed under her breath as she jerked the door open. “What?” she snapped, bracing one arm against the archway of the door. “Here for another go-round?”

  Andre thrust a glass bowl in her direction. “This is for you.” After a few tense-filled moments spent glaring at each other in a wordless stare down, Andre cleared his throat and added, “It’s chicken pot pie.”

  “I can see that.” Jennifer snatched the bowl from him, unsmiling although secretly eager to dive into Gladys’s famous dish. The woman really was an outstanding cook.

  Andre tsked. “You’re welcome.”

  “Excuse my rudeness, Officer Jenkins.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I’m perplexed, that’s all.”

  “About?” Andre inquired sarcastically after a repeat performance of their strained faceoff from moments before.

  “I can’t figure out why a man, aka you, would use your code to get through the front entrance, but then stop short of using his key. I mean, really, Andre, who does that?”

  “A polite man.” Andre rubbed the base of his neck. “Aka me.”

  “Huh. Good answer. I guess that’s why you’ve become your momma’s gopher.” Satisfaction coursed through her as Jennifer noticed his body stiffen, his jaw clenching. “Thank you. You’re a true gentleman.”

  “She loves you. You’ve always been like a daughter to her.” Andre shifted, shoving his hand into one of his jean’s pockets. “Mom never accepted our breakup and neither have I.”

  Jennifer cocked an eyebrow. “Does she love me as much as Rosalyn?”

  Andre released a long, drawn-out sigh. “Come on, Jenn. Stop trying to pick a fight with me. You know damn well how she feels about Rosalyn.”

  “Ah-ha. Yeah, I do know. Your mother despises her almost as much as I do.”

  Andre glared down at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Probably more.”

  “Not possible.” She quirked her lip slightly. “I do love your mother. You know that and so does she. But it still doesn’t explain why you were the one to deliver the pie?”

  “Because she knew I was going to be in the area,” Andre answered with a shrug.

  “Okay, sure. I think it’s because she is relentless. Anyone other than Gladys Jenkins would have given up and stopped using these ridiculous tactics years ago.” Jennifer sighed, placing her hand on the doorknob. “You know what, just tell her I said thanks.”

  “Hey! Hold up.” A stark white Nike Air sneaker wedged between the semi-open door and the doorframe, preventing Jennifer from closing it all the way. “Ouch! Dammit! That hurt,” Andre sputtered as he plowed his way past Jennifer and into the living room.

  Jennifer narrowed her eyes. “Breaking and entering is a felony. You of all people should know that, Officer Jenkins.”

  “Call the cops if you want to. By the time they arrive, I’ll have said what I need to say.”

  With one hand planted on her hip and the other holding the Pyrex dish, Jennifer rolled her eyes. “My phone is in my purse upstairs.”

  Andre shoved his hand into the side pocket of his black leather motorcycle jacket. “Here, use mine,” he said, waving his cell phone out in the space between them.

  “If you’re going to be quick about it, then talk.” Her words came out on a rush as she took in his attire. Dressed in a pair of worn blue jeans, his jacket opened slightly at the neck to reveal a tight, black T-shirt beneath. An unwanted thrill shot through all the way down to her pussy; the man certainly could make a girl swoon. “Just put it away,” she snapped, annoyed at her own lustful preoccupation with his body.

  “Sure thing.” A million unanswered questions lingered between them as he shoved the phone into his pocket. “It’s best if you heat that up before you eat it.”

  “What?”

  “The pie. You should heat it first.”

  “No shit.” Jennifer stepped past him and straight toward the kitchen. “This isn’t my first rodeo,” she threw out over her shoulder.

  A deep chuckle resounded behind her as she padded, barefoot toward the kitchen, the sound so familiar and comforting that she wished they could go back in time. Don’t be stupid. Nana always said, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Roughly, she placed the glass dish into the refrigerator, hoping it didn’t crack as she smacked it down onto the shelf. “Tomorrow is our late night at the shop. At least now I don’t have to worry about preparing dinner,” she said as she stepped back into the living room.

  “How was the movie?”

  “What movie?”

  Andre pointed to the table. “Fifty Shades of Grey.”

  Jennifer swept her clammy palms down each of her thighs, heat pooling in her belly. She’d forgotten about her trip to Red Box. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t watched it yet.”

  “I’m surprised Vicki didn’t drag you out with her to see it. It’s been out for a long time. I thought the entire female population had seen it by now.”

  “Well, I’m not like the rest.”

  Dark eyes roamed slowly over her body, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “No, you most definitely are not.”

  “Look, I’m a busy woman.” She frowned, reaching for the DVD. “I’ve got a business to run and a whole shitload of responsibilities.”

  An arrogant smirk crossed his lips as he lifted the DVD above his head and out of her reach. “Have you read the books?”

  “Yes, Andre.” Jennifer drew in a deep breath and exhaled dramatically. “I’ve read all three of them.”

  “Cool. I’ve got to admit. With all the hype, I’m a bit curious.” Once again, he pulled the cell phone from his jacket pocket. “Since you’re going to eat the casserole tomorrow, how about I order a pizza and we watch it together?”

  “You said you’d only be a few minutes. Isn’t it time to go home?”

  “I did. But that was before I knew you were hoarding a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey. I’ve got Nicholas Pizza on redial,” he explained as he pressed his thumb down on the screen.

  “Andre—” Jennifer glared at him as he began to order.

  A big-ass smile flashed across his face as he gave out her address for the delivery driver. “Great. Thanks,” he said and pushed the phone into his pocket. “It should be here in about thirty minutes.”

  Extra cheese, pepperoni, and black olives. He remembered. She snapped her eyes shut, desperate to block the warmth of remembrance. Deeply, she sucked in a breath, counting to ten before she opened her eyes. “Good. Thirty minutes should be more than enough time for you to tell me whatever the hell it is you have to say, get your pizza, and go home.”

  An
dre shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the arm of the couch. “I am home.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Andre,” Jennifer exploded. “Who the fuck do you think you are? This is my home. Mine! You made your bed and it wasn’t ours when you fucked my enemy.” She lunged for his jacket, tossing it at him and pointed to the door. “What are you waiting for? Get the hell out of my house.”

  Chapter 29

  Andre

  He gripped the jacket between his clenched fingers, studying Jennifer as she paced before him, her arms waving wildly in the air as she berated him. Most men would be unnerved by her rage, but he wasn’t most men just like she wasn’t most women. Her eyes ablaze with fury, her auburn hair pulled up into a messy loose bun atop her head, Jennifer was still the most beautiful woman in the world to Andre. Without makeup she could be mistaken for a teenager, if it weren’t for her curvaceous womanly body. Her green tank clung to her like a second skin, her nipples taunting him as they jutted and pebbled beneath the fabric. Black yoga pants were painted onto her legs and skimmed tightly across her rounded ass.

  His cock twitched as he watched her hips sway. He fought the urge to grab her, push her against the wall, ravish her with his mouth, and brand her with his body. “I’m sorry,” Andre said, causing Jennifer to stop dead in her tracks.

  Hands planted onto her hips, she glowered at him. “You’re sorry?”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ve never wanted Rosalyn. I never wanted to move out. But you made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t welcome here. Besides, I didn’t have any choice. You’d hooked up with Shane.”

  “Bullshit,” she spat, her voice cracking as she continued, “you’re a grown man. You had a choice and you chose her. And you know damn well that Shane is my sponsor. He’s my friend, nothing more.” She lunged for him, her hand slapping across his face before he could stop her assault. “Don’t insult me with your excuses. You’re a grown man and you picked her.”

  Prickles stung his cheek, his heart pounding as she pummeled her fists against his chest. He clasped her hands, dropping his jacket in the process as he stopped her from hitting him. “Don’t you understand? She was going to expose—”

  “Expose what?” Jennifer gritted between clenched teeth, her fingernails digging into his hand as he restrained her. “It had nothing to do with me. You,” she snarled, seething with rage. “You knocked her up. Then, because God forbid you not do the right thing,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes for effect, “you and your stupid self-righteous, save-the-world attitude couldn’t walk away.” She ripped her hands free from him, almost tumbling as she quickly stepped backward, her foot sliding across the slick, smooth leather of the crumbled motorcycle jacket. Immediately, he reached to catch her. “Don’t touch me,” she said, holding her palm faceup to stop him.

  His chest squeezed, remorse filling him. If I’d not been such a coward. If I’d just told her the truth. Maybe, she’d have understood and we would still be together.

  “Really, Andre? Do you really expect me to believe you didn’t have a choice? Have you convinced yourself of that lie?” Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, his need to comfort her nearly overwhelming as he held back. He needed to give her the opportunity to speak her mind without him interfering. “You, Andre. You,’’ Jennifer said, her voice filled with anguish. “You fucked that bitch.” She dropped her head, her shoulders sagging up and down several times, as she completely crumbled before him. “Then”—she looked up, her pained expression nearly destroying him—“you have the nerve to stand before me, in what was to be our home, and play the victim and claim that I don’t understand. That you didn’t try to get me back because you assumed I was fucking my sponsor!”

  “I’ll always love my son, Jenn, in spite of who his mother is.” He didn’t want to agitate her further, but where Michael was concerned, he’d make damn sure he set the record straight.

  “Of course, you love your son. Did you not listen to a damn thing I said? How could you not love Michael? It’s the whole damn situation. It’s fucked up!”

  “I am listening and you’re right.”

  “Shut up!” Jennifer took a step forward, her chest nearly colliding with his as she leered up at him. “Don’t condescend me. I’m sick of listening to it. I’m tired of feeling like shit! I’ve heard all of this crap my entire life. I’m done with it. Nobody is going to make me feel like nothing anymore!”

  “Jenn—” Andre responded, needing to fix this terrible misconception that she had. She was everything. His entire world. He hated that he’d let Rosalyn manipulate both of them. Hated that he’d been so weak.

  “I told you to shut up. What part of zip it do you not understand?” Jennifer gritted out. “The fact is that Michael’s amazing. I love him too and for that reason, I’ll do everything in my power to protect him because I sure as hell know how it feels to be the product of dysfunction and I refuse to let him feel like he isn’t wanted. He’s not to blame for his sorry-ass excuse of a mother and his father’s indiscretion. But you are.”

  Filled with venom, her words stung and burned, twisting throughout his body as they cut off his air supply with their truth. There was no way around it—everything was his fault. He’d failed her. Failed Michael. And most of all, failed himself. But hadn’t he paid the ultimate price? The last few years had been like a damn prison sentence without her. His entire life was a sham.

  “Everyone, Andre,” Jennifer said his name as if it left a bad taste in her mouth as his attention jolted back to the present. “Everyone knows how much I love Michael.” He clenched his fists at his side, unsure how to handle her spastic emotions. One moment she was cool, matter-of-fact. The next she was pitiful, her voice cracking and tears streaming down her face. The roller-coaster ride of emotions had to be exhausting.

  “And he’s not even mine! How fucking cruel is that?” she screamed.

  As if a voyeur to her confessional, Andre stared ahead wishing he could turn back time. Agony crawled at his gut—his regret, guilt, and anger waging a war within him. What should he do? Should he tell her? Would she believe him?

  “We were supposed to have babies.” Jennifer waved her hand toward him and then back at her. “You and me, not you and that whore. So I understand. Probably more clearly than you do that it’s you who can’t admit the truth.” She sucked in a deep breath and paused momentarily before spewing the final blow. “You did this. You broke us. Michael and I are simply the casualties of your sin.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Andre swore. “You need to stop!”

  “You need to go,” Jennifer bit back.

  Enough of the lies. He was putting an end to this nightmare right now. “I’ve never told you the full story. There’s something you don’t know.”

  “Oh,” Jenn snorted. “This ought to be good.”

  He cleared his throat and deadpanned, “Rosalyn raped me.”

  Jennifer threw her head back and laughed. “That’s rich. She raped you?” She shot him a look of distrust, her previous sadness now replaced with the guarded mask Jennifer was so talented at putting up. “That’s the best you can do, Andre? Please, don’t insult me with any more of your ridiculous lies.”

  “I’m not lying, Jenn.” Andre placed his palm to her forearm, his eyes pleading as they sought hers. “I blacked out. The concussion. Remember? I blacked out. When I came to, my jeans were down at my ankles and my dick was pushed through the opening of my briefs. Rosalyn was on top of me, her legs around my waist with her dress hiked up. Her panties were stretched out over her thighs as she...as...she assaulted me.”

  Chapter 30

  Andre

  Aqua-blue eyes bore into his own. Andre stared her down, refusing to tear his gaze from hers, hoping that she’d recognize the truth in his eyes.

  Suddenly, Jennifer’s look of sheer contempt seemed to fade away, uncertainty now shadowing her expression. “Andre?” she said barely above a whisper.

  His heart hammered, his adrenaline spiking. Thank
you, God. “You believe me?” he choked out, newfound hope soaring through him. “You do. You believe me, don’t you?”

  She gazed at him, unspeaking for what seemed to Andre to be an eternity, his momentary triumph plummeting as uncertainty overtook him. God, Jenn, please. Believe me, he thought as he watched a plethora of emotions play across her face—disbelief, sadness, and then surprisingly, anger. “Why didn’t you press charges?”

  “I’m a fucking cop, Jenn.” Andre thrust his fingertip against his chest, hurt and furious that his innocence was once again under attack, just when he’d thought he’d finally cracked through her shell. “I’m a goddamned man.” He couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d lived a lie long enough. No more. “I swore an oath to uphold the law. My job is to keep you safe and serve the community,” he raged, the years of pent-up disgust for his own weakness finally erupting to the surface. “How the hell do I explain what happened or take care of everything when I wasn’t able to protect myself?”

  At that exact moment, Jennifer’s expression morphed into one of horror as if every word he bellowed at her finally sunk into her thick skull. “Andre?’ Her voice trembled. “H—how?”

  “I just fucking told you. I blacked out!” Andre swore, “Shit, Jenn. I’m a fucking man. A cop, for Christ’s sake. Do you think I’d make up something like that?” He stepped towards her, grasping her by the shoulders as his voice lowered shakily, “I never wanted to leave you. I don’t want anyone else. It’s always been you, Jenn. You’re my girl.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

  “Don’t,” Andre said, releasing her arms and immediately turning away so he didn’t have to face her woeful expression. “I can’t bear to have you look at me like that.”