Fire & Desire (Hero Series) (5 page)

“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 together
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.

She was twenty-seven and couldn’t see herself getting married in
the next three years.

The words played in her mind, reminding her she had already
married Trevor and not only by paper. She pushed the thought aside—it didn’t
count. It was a mistake she was in the process of correcting.

“Christopher asked me to tell you he would be expecting a dance
from you that night,” her dad said, breaking into her thoughts.

Christopher Manning, the senator’s son, was a different matter
entirely. They’d dated three years ago. It’d only lasted six months. She’d
promptly broken off the relationship, realizing she didn’t have the time or
energy to play hostess for both her father and Christopher’s career.

Not to mention, she was in the mist of trying to get her own
business off the ground. Christopher considered himself a senator hopeful and
never missed an opportunity to be seen at the right function, by the right
people, at the right time and expected Tiffany to be right on his arm at every
event. That was before he was running for congressional representative; she
could only imagine what he would expect from her now.

Since then, Christopher was under the assumption she would one day
be Mrs. Christopher Kevin Manning, III. Tiffany had no problem with Christopher
personally, except he was selfish. The prospect of marrying into a political
family was not appealing, one of the main reasons she avoided a relationship
with Christopher.

It was her responsibility as her father’s daughter to accompany
and host for him, but it was not something she wanted for the rest of her life.
Besides, she’d always been left wanting, making it easy for her to keep all of
her morals and values intact. Never having a desire to take their relationship
to the next step.

Jo told her that was not a good thing, particularly in a husband.

Tiffany quickly refocused herself back on the conversation with
her father before thoughts of Trevor and how
he
made her feel took over
her thought process.

“What did you say to Christopher?” Tiffany sliced off a small
piece of roast and ate it.

“I told him to speak with you directly.” The governor took a bite
of his roast, chewed slowly, then swallowed. “He said it was what he planned to
do.”

Thank God for Dad.
It was classic of Christopher to attempt to press this issue with
her father, but the governor always stood his ground.

“You wouldn’t be able to take Martha to this would you?” Tiffany
fought the urge to push her food around her plate. The thought of fighting off
Christopher all night consumed her appetite.

The governor gave his daughter a look, which said it wasn’t
likely.

Martha Sanders was one of her father’s female friends. She was one
of the women who occasionally accompanied him to the opera, theater or dinner.
Her father was very sporadic in his dating, not trying to give the press fuel
for fire. He always told her, personal life was private, and he liked it that
way.

Through their many talks, she knew the prospect of him remarrying
was not a possibility.

He had often said her mother was his one true love and he wouldn’t
settle for second best.

Tiffany wondered if she would ever feel that way about someone.
Without warning, thoughts of Trevor entered her mind, his smoldering, secretive
eyes and wicked smile. She pushed the thoughts aside before they went further.
It didn’t take much.

Getting back to business, Tiffany jotted down notes and dates in
her planner as she listened to her father list his upcoming events. She was
glad she wouldn’t have to reschedule any of her appointments to accommodate his.

 “Well, sweetheart, I must return my shoulder to the grind.” Her
father gave her a loving smile before he stood.

Tiffany stood as well and rounded the table to his side.

“I love you, Daddy.”

Immediately, her father’s arms swallowed her up into a bear hug.
“I love you, too.”

Leaning back, her father looked at her. “What’s wrong,
sweetheart?” her father asked, voice full of concern.

Weighed with guilt, Tiffany took a step back, removing herself
from her father’s protective arms.

“What do you mean? I always tell you I love you.” Tiffany passed
what she hoped was a convincing smile on her face that said,
all is well.

“Of course you do. You just haven’t seemed yourself lately. Your
smiles even seem weighed down.”

Tiffany returned to her side of the table and gathered her things.
“Dad, you worry too much.” Giving him that smile again, she said, “I’m fine.”

Wallace Parker, his aide and right-hand man, stepped into the
room. “Excuse me, Governor. Senator Jackson is on the phone. He says it’s
urgent.”

Wallace had been with her father since he first started running
for office. He was practically a part of the family with the exception that he
kept himself separate. He never took a meal with them and never shared any
holiday time—regardless of the fact he had no family.

Wallace was a very smart, loyal and quiet man who valued his
solitude. He was an attractive man, appearing to be in his early forties. Tall
with thick broad shoulders, his presence was always formidable. When most
people met Wallace, they mistook him for a bodyguard instead of the political
intellectual who held a doctorate in political science. He knew his job and he
did it well.

She had no doubt that Wallace would lend physical support if the
need arose.

Wallace exited the room as quietly as he had entered.

“We are not done with this conversation, sweetheart,” the governor
said, as he walked to the door.

“Of course we are. You just worry about me too much when you have
enough people in this state to look after.” Tiffany walked over to her father,
who was standing at the threshold of the dining room.

Leaning forward, her father kissed her on her forehead. “But none
of them will ever mean more to me than you and your happiness.”

Simultaneously, they both spotted Wallace coming from the
direction of the office.

“I have to take this call.”

Her father looked torn. A spark of fear entered her heart. The
last thing she needed was her father telling Senator Jackson he would have to
call him back, deciding now was the time for a father-daughter sit down.

“You go. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Her father kissed her again, then finally left.

Tiffany closed her eyes and released the pent up breath she had
been holding.

As she opened her eyes and started up the stairs, she noticed
Wallace watching her. He gave her a silent nod, then entered her father’s
office behind him.

Tiffany retired to the room designated for her use while her
father was in office. Sitting before her computer monitor, she logged in her
password and began to pull up the program that would merge her and her father’s
schedule. Then she emailed the changes to herself. She rarely spent much time
using this office, preferring her family home to the mansion. The Governor’s Mansion
had housed so many different families over the years, it always seemed so
impersonal to her. As if so many people had lived there, no one could claim its
heart. It lacked the warmth of their home in Alexandria. If her father became
senator next year, he would return home. She was thankful they didn’t give
senators houses. Heaven only knew how she would get used to another.

Ring. Ring.

“Hello, Tiffany Selina,” she answered on its second ring.

“Tiffy, sweetie, it’s so good to hear your voice. I’ve been
missing it.”

She hated the name Tiffy. No one called her that but Christopher,
and Josephine jokingly.

“Christopher, how are you?” she asked, controlling the
exasperation the nickname always caused.

“Great. I don’t have to ask how you are. I can hear you’re hard at
work.”

She stopped typing, which she knew was his true reason for making
the comment. He hated to feel as if he didn’t have her full attention. “So to
what do I owe the reason for this unexpected call?” she asked, not wanting to
prolong the conversation.

“Well, I’m sure your father told you about Tracie’s wedding this
weekend.”

He paused for her response.

“He did.”

“Well, I’d like you to be my date,” he dropped his voice an
octave.

Christopher’s low-pitched tone did nothing for her, yet the deep
inflections of Trevor’s voice sent sensual shivers down her spine. This amazed
her.

“I thought you would be in the wedding.”

“I will, but that’s only significant for the ceremony and the
dinner. After dinner, I’d be all yours.”

“I’m sorry, Christopher, but I already told my dad I’d escort
him.”

“That’s too bad. Maybe we could skip out earl…you know, Tiffy,
it’s been a long time since we spent any quality time together.” Amazingly, he
dropped to an even lower tone.

“That’s usually what couples do, Christopher.
Not friends,
”
she emphasized, reminding him that the latter was their status.

“Tiffy, how about letting me come pick you up tonight? We can
drive around the city and talk.”

He is relentless.

“Is everything okay?” she asked because, although she had no
feelings at all toward him as a boyfriend or a husband, she did care about him
as a friend.

“If I said, no…would you agree to go with me?” he said sounding
more like a little boy pouting instead of a grown man who was soon to become a
Congressman.

She laughed. “I’m sorry, Christopher, but I’ve got a lot of work
to do and not enough time to do it.”