Fire & Desire (Hero Series) (15 page)

The other man sat down in the vacant space.

Both men sat in silence.

The press of guilt weighed on Trevor’s shoulders, making it
difficult for him to remain quiet. “I don’t know if there is help for me,”
Trevor said as he thought back to the man’s original question.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because as the old saying goes, ‘I made my bed, and now I have to
sleep in it’.”

“I don’t know where that saying comes from, but if the people
actually began to sleep in messes of their making without a way out…the world
would be a disgusting place.” The other man made a sound as if he were exhaling
a breath. “Good thing that for everything there is forgiveness.”

Trevor turned and discovered the other man looking at him. “That’s
God, not people. I’ve hurt someone pretty badly.”

Trevor faced front again and debated whether or not he wanted to
reveal his sins toward Tiffany to the stranger with the Ascot cap. Then he
decided he had come inside the church for something, and maybe sharing with
this other man would help him find a little peace.

Humorously, Trevor began, “It’s been too many years to count since
my last confession…”

The other man’s boisterous laughter caused Trevor to turn back
toward him and smile.

Trevor’s smile slipped from his mouth. “Out of revenge, I married
a woman I didn’t love and because I thought she was special to a man I
considered my enemy. I plotted out the revenge.

It doesn’t matter that I thought it was the only way to avenge my
friend; I hurt the woman I married.”

“Did you tell the woman you married what was going on?”

“No.”

“Are you still married to her?”

“Yes.”

“How does the situation stand now?”

Trevor bowed his head. “Worse than if she had found out I was
using her for revenge.

Because she knows I’ve lied to her and pushed her to consider
jeopardizing her father’s career, just to accept me in her life. Because I
wanted to be with her.”

Just saying the words aloud made Trevor feel miserable. Hurting
Tiffany had been the last thing he wanted to do. He had even planned to tell
her the truth about everything that night at dinner so their relationship could
begin untarnished by the past.

“The fact you’re here with a colossal weight on your shoulder,
instead of out clicking your heels together over the contract, tells me you
have some very deep feelings for her.”

Trevor eyed the large cross hanging over the pulpit. “You’re
correct. I never expected this. But I fell in a big way.”

“Love will do that.” The other man stood. “You need to tell her.”

Trevor stood as well. “I’ve been trying to reach her all
afternoon.”

“Don’t stop until she agrees to listen to you. If she feels the
way you do about her, then it won’t take long at all.”

“Thanks.” Trevor extended his hand toward the man. “I’ll get out
of your way. I’ve held you up long enough.”

The man grasped Trevor’s hand. “It’s no problem. I thought I was
only stopping by to pick up my sermon notes for Sunday, but I guess I was
wrong.”

“No, you were right,” Trevor said with confidence, as they broke
contact. “By the way, I’m, Trevor.”

“Anthony,” he said, smiling and leading the way to the front of
the church.

Nothing more needed to be said as both men remained silent as they
exited the church.

Anthony paused to lock the door, and Trevor continued toward his
car with more lift to his spirit than when he’d arrived.

Fifteen

Doon, doon, doon…

Tiffany heard the high and low tones of the door chimes and rose
from the couch in the living room where she sat idly flipping through a
magazine waiting for Trevor to arrive. Tossing it on the table, Tiffany’s chest
expanded as she inhaled a deep breath. She walked toward the door and exhaled
the air from her lungs slowly, audibly. The metal handle of the door felt cool against
her palm as she reached out and grabbed it. She squeezed and turned, feeling each
muscle in her right hand tighten around the knob. Tiffany was amazed how awake
and alive her senses had become just from the ringing of the doorbell, and she
hadn’t even opened the door yet.

She shouldn’t have been shocked at her response. It was Trevor,
and he always did that to her. Made her come alive.

She looked at Trevor from head to toe, knowing his body as
intimately as she knew her own. “Who are you?” It was the first thing she
needed to know before she let him in. She had opened her door and heart to him
too many times under false pretenses.

“Hi. I’m Trevor Wayne, owner of Computer Bytes. Computer geek at
your service.”

Though he sounded as rich and soft as cherished leather, she also
heard a dejected tone. His posture held a nonchalant bearing as he lounged with
one shoulder against the doorjamb.

Tiffany didn’t know which to believe. He claimed feelings for her
one moment, yet he never revealed who he truly was.

She didn’t trust herself to say more, so she stepped back to allow
him to enter the house.

After he crossed the threshold, she closed the door with a snap
and led the way.

Not a stripper.
As she moved toward the living room, her mind was on the man who owned
the echoing footsteps thumping behind her. He wore jeans like skin, snug,
fitting and cleaving to every bulge and curve. Leaving nothing to the
imagination. She didn’t need imagination; she knew what was held in those
pants. She knew it by size, feel and shape. She knew it by how deep it could
thrust inside of her until her eyes rolled back and it felt like her very soul
had left her body on a cry of pleasure.

Her sex pulsated. She yearned to be sitting so she would be able
to squeeze her thighs together and calm its throb.

Trevor.
Even the sound of his name in her mind made her nipples tighten.
She crossed her arms over her chest to hide the evidence of the affect he had
on her. Reaching the living room, she sat down on the first piece of furniture
she reached. A chair.
Perfect.
It would give her the distance she
needed. Distance to keep her head clear.
Distance,
Tiffany repeated it
like a mantra.

Trevor chose the couch across from her. Sitting on the edge, he
leaned forward with his elbows balanced on his knees.

Ooh, man!
Tiffany thought as she realized the view she had down his shirt. Crisp
and white, with three buttons undone at the collar. Corded muscles and rope
like veins traveled along the side, making Tiffany want to place heated, open
mouth kisses on them. She couldn’t stop her eyes from dipping lower to catch a
glimpse of his upper chest and pecks. Her tongue slid out of her mouth to glide
across her lips as she remembered how each lick of his skin would taste.

She cleared her throat abruptly.
This is not the time,
she
berated herself.
This may be Trevor, the man who took you into your first
moments of pure ecstasy, but he was also the man who married, deceived and made
you out to be a fool of the first degree.

Her anger returned with full force. “Why?” she uttered past her
tight lips.

~ML~

Ah, hell.
Trevor thought.
Time to come clean.
What he really wanted
to do when Tiffany opened the door in her sweet lace trimmed camisole top and
knee length skirt was lay her down in the foyer on the parquet floor and ply
his tongue against her wet folds and capture her essence.

Instant arousal hit him. He clenched his jaw to stifle the groan
that rose in his throat. His manhood began to swell and extend, making his
jeans feel two sizes too small.
Man, you are
not
here for that.

He was silent as he followed her barefoot trek down the hall
across the gleaming wood.

Unable to keep his eyes from watching the sway of her hips as the
flowing material of her skirt brushed across her firm, round bottom. Everything
in him yearned to run his hands underneath her skirt, to re-familiarize himself
with the hidden curves of her thighs and butt. To touch the welcoming supple
heat of her inner thighs and travel up them until he reached the part of her
that was wet, and declared her level of excitement, would have been heaven.

He was happy when Tiffany chose the first chair in the room and
sat down. Giving him the time he needed to rein in his desire. The look on her
face helped. She sat with her lips pursed with anger, her arms folded across
her full breasts and her legs crossed. The pain and hurt that filled her eyes
tore at his heart. He had put that there. Now, his omissions could be the cause
of him losing the one person who meant everything to him.

Gazing into those brown eyes that would be his judge and jury, he
said, “I’m sorry. I never meant things to turn out like this.”

She dropped her arms to her lap. “I don’t want to hear how damn
sorry you are. I figured that out hours ago.”

Ouch.

“What I want is the truth.
The unadulterated truth.
If you
can unravel all of the lies you have given me and find it.”

Trevor knew he had this coming. He owed Tiffany this time of
anger. He just hoped before the night was over he would be able to convince her
to give him a second chance. Taking another glance at the set look of her face,
he lost his confidence.

“Where would you like me to start?” He opened his hands, and then
clasped them together.

“The beginning would be great.”

Trevor sighed, leaned back in the chair and rested his linked
hands on his abdomen. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Before I start,
I don’t want you to have any doubt that when I told you I loved you, I meant
it.”

Tiffany opened her mouth to comment.

“I meant it,” Trevor said emphatically, bringing to a halt any
doubt she was going to voice.

There was a momentary thick silence before Trevor began to speak.
“In order to start this off, I have to tell you that this entire situation
involves Manning.”

“Christopher? What does he have to do with this?” Curiosity
painted her face like a mural.

“More than you could ever imagine.” Trevor cast his gaze toward
the ceiling briefly, then looked across the carpeted floor at her again.
Watch
your words. Remember what Christopher means to her.

“Manning and I went to undergrad together.”

Tiffany started to speak, but Trevor raised his hand to cease it.
He needed to get this out without interruptions. “Hear me first, Tiffany.” He
took a deep breath. “We played football together, which is how I could even
afford to attend the school. I was recruited. Not to brag on myself, but I had
been warding off scouts since I was a sophomore in high school. I could have gone
anywhere, but Leslie, my aunt, always told me to choose wisely. ‘You won’t be
playing football your whole life,’ she’d say.”

“The owner of Elite Entertainment,” she stated more than asked.

Trevor noticed Tiffany’s arms were starting to relax. He could
almost hear the wheels turning in her head.

“Yes. Leslie has always been there to support me. So I went Ivy
League. Drakner College in New Hampshire. They didn’t rank even in the top ten
schools for football, but that was okay because they were an
Ivy League
College
.” Trevor stood and walked to the side of the couch. He was anxious,
and he was just beginning with the story.

Respecting his request, Tiffany remained quiet.

“From the moment I got there, I knew I was out of my league. I
couldn’t fathom how I would ever be able to relate with students whose parents
and grandparents were corporate attorneys, stockbrokers, heads of hospitals,
senators and Supreme Court justices.” Trevor looked at Tiffany. “How could I compete
with that. My father was a longshoreman until he died, and my mother owned a
small cleaning business, which went under after she died my freshman year. But I
was going to stick it out because I was determined to make it.”

Trevor sat down on the arm of the couch, and he looked down at his
hands as they clinched in suppressed anger. “I think that’s why Christopher
hated me.”

“Hate is a very strong word.”

“But perfect.” He glanced up at Tiffany. “I initially came under
his radar being on the football team with him. I was good. As a freshman, I got
the position of starting quarterback. I was the one who was going to take the
school to victory. Christopher was second to me, and he didn’t like it. That’s
when the pranks started.” Trevor got up, walked over to the mantle over the fireplace
and placed both his hands against it, keeping his back to Tiffany. “For three
years, I took the itching powder, tainted food, ruined clothes, defaced
property and public ridicule.”

“Christopher dropped off the team in his sophomore year.”

“That just made things worse.” Trevor’s eyes went vacant as his
thoughts drifted back.

“The night we won our homecoming game, we were in the locker room
celebrating. Things got rough and rowdy. Next thing I knew, I had a dislocated
shoulder. I could never prove who did it, but I’m positive it was some of
Christopher’s loyal buddies who were still on the team.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Trevor shrugged his shoulders in a matter of fact
manner. “I was glad it was my right shoulder instead of my throwing arm. But
that taught me quickly to watch my back.”

“Why didn’t you report them?” Tiffany’s naïve faith caused Trevor
to turn around.

“To whom?” Trevor shook his head. “Their fathers were on the
alumni board. Besides, if I had shown any hint they were getting to me, then it
would have been worse.”

 Tiffany stood and walked toward him. “Trevor, what’s worse than
what they did to you?”

“Death.” The ominous tone heavily weighed Trevor’s words. He could
see the shock and disbelief registered on Tiffany’s face as her forehead
creased, eyes glazed over and her mouth dropped open giving her a daunted look.

“Oh, come now, Trevor. Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic?”

The comment hit Trevor with the impact of a large rubber mallet.
It stole his breath and rendered him speechless for a moment. Trevor’s head
hung low as he took a deep breath. He had to remember Tiffany didn’t know the
real Manning. “Rebecca Camille Samuelson.”

Tiffany’s face scrunched. “Who is that?”

“She was my best friend.” Trevor tilted his head and made eye
contact with her. “She died.” Trevor could hear his own voice, thick and
quivering with emotions tenuously restrained.

“She was my rock. One of the few people who looked beyond my
athletic ability and saw me.”

Trevor noticed the slight tremors in Tiffany’s hands as she
fidgeted with the seam of her top. Her eyes darted around the room, touching
everything but him.

“This girl meant a lot to you.” She still refused to look at him.
“What came between the two of you?” Her hands paused briefly. “Let me guess.
This is why you hate Christopher so much. He slept with your girl?”

Flippant was the word that came to Trevor’s mind to describe
Tiffany’s tone, but the manner in which she toyed with her shirt hem told a
different story. Even though she tried to hide it, he could tell the extent of
his relationship with Rebecca disturbed her.

“Manning didn’t just sleep with her. They were dating, and when
he’d had enough of her, he got her drunk and passed her among his friends. She
endured months of harassment before—”

He cut his own words off. He needed a moment before he continued.
He hadn’t spoken about her in years and only once to his aunt after the
incident.

“Before? Before what?”

She sounded breathless, Trevor thought as he watched the slow rise
and fall of Tiffany’s chest. He allowed his eyes a gradual stroll up her body,
not missing the quickening pulse at the base of her neck as he passed it to
rest his gaze on her face. “A 1960 candy apple red, white couch leathered
interior, mint condition Corvette. That’s what.”

Her eyes targeted him, and he watched them swell with recognition.

“Oh, my God. That’s Christopher’s car,” she pronounced, her eyes
stretched wide to the size of mini espresso saucers.

“Tell her what she wins!” he sarcastically mocked game show hosts.

“Talk to me, Trevor.” Tiffany’s hand reached toward him.

~ML~

Trevor’s whole body went on awareness as Tiffany touched him. It
was a simple act, but he was connected to her on a level he’d never known with
anyone else.