The Best Thing He Never Knew He Needed (17 page)

“
Yeah, I bet Desmond
thinks you did, too and, if you’d give him his tongue back, he
would probably tell you that,” Melanie said. She laughed
hysterically.

Sherita erupted in laughter
along with Emily.

“
Anyway, looks like
Desmond is heading this way, so I think we need to go, Melanie,”
Emily said. “Let’s give these lovebirds some much needed
privacy.”

“
Oh, stop it,” Sherita
said.

“
Don’t try to downplay
it,” Emily told her. “We saw it with our own eyes, and you claim
you don’t like Desmond…could’ve fooled me. It ain’t no telling
what’s about to go down on Walnut Grove Lane tonight.”

Sherita waved them off.
“See y’all later.”

When Emily and Melanie
walked pass Desmond, he told the ladies to have a good night. Then
he continued to where Sherita had been standing, opening the door
for her like a gentleman. Once she was inside, he closed the door
then walked back around, got inside and cranked the jeep. Instead
of shifting the car in gear, he looked over at her.

“
So that went well, didn’t
it?” Sherita asked, looking over at him, then quickly looking away,
unable to hold his intense gaze. She’d somehow reverted back to the
timid woman she was before the dinner.

“
Yeah. It did,” he said,
evenly. With a clenched jaw, he shifted the car in gear and began
the drive home. Confused. Sherita had been phenomenal at dinner.
Anyone looking at them would have no doubt that they were a couple
in love. She studied those notes she’d taken, knew her role and
played it well. Too well. He wanted to believe that part of her
kissing him had been real, that it was something she wanted to do
and not something she felt she had to do. And that bothered him
more than anything else. Being the man he was, since when did he
care about whether or not a woman wanted to kiss him?

Sherita glanced over at
Desmond, seeing something akin to frustration on his face as he
navigated the dark streets. He said the dinner went well, but he
didn’t seem happy about it. In fact, he looked bothered. Did he not
get what he wanted?

CHAPTER 19

At home now, they both
emerged from the jeep at the same time, and Desmond followed
Sherita to the door. As he did, he thought about her lips on his,
their mouths fusing together and how good it felt to feel her hands
against his face. He was right about her before. She was his
weakness. Even after he’d tried several techniques to fight his
yearning for her, it remained.

He unlocked the door,
opened it for her and allowed her to walk in first.

Before heading to her
private quarters, she said, “Well, have a good night,
Desmond.”

Desmond said nothing. He
just stood there, staring at her. He even watched her walk away
until she was no longer in sight before heading upstairs to his
bedroom. He quickly undressed, stepped into the shower hoping to
relax himself a bit, only it didn’t do a thing to erase the memory
of kissing Sherita. And then he remembered how she grabbed his
hand, interlocked their fingers and rubbed her nose along the
backside of his hand, before leaving kisses there. She had the
upper hand at dinner, another thing he didn’t like. So after
sliding into a white T-shirt and a pair of black boxers, he decided
to pay her a visit. He glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes
after eleven. They’d just arrived home thirty minutes ago. She
couldn’t be asleep that quickly.

He jogged downstairs, then
walked down the hallway that led to the studio apartment. He
knocked, then waited.

A few moments later,
Sherita opened the door, surprised to see him standing there.
“Hey.”

His eyes briefly roamed her
body, loving the powder-pink, silk tank top and shorts she had on,
exposing the length of her legs. She’d gathered her hair into a
ponytail, and he imagined she did that every night before bed. “Can
I come in?”

“
It’s your house,” she
responded curtly.

She headed down the stairs
again, returning to the sofa where she had been watching TV with
her legs extended.

Desmond sat down on the
opposite end of the sofa, looking down at her feet. They almost
touched him. He wouldn’t mind if they did.

Taking the remote from the
couch and powering off the TV, Sherita glared at Desmond and said,
“You know I think I did a pretty good job tonight, and you didn’t
even say thank you. And to think…you lectured me about manners
because I didn’t thank you for buying me a cup of coffee, but I
marry you and put on this grand performance at dinner and you
haven’t said
thank you
not even once, Desmond. You were tight-lipped all the way
home and, even when I told you to have a good night when we got
here, you said nothing. Absolutely nothing. What gives?”

Desmond stared at her for a
long while, feeling emotions he’d never felt before. “I didn’t say
anything because I couldn’t.”

“
What does that mean? Any
other time, you have plenty to say.”

“
You’re right,” he
admitted.

“
So why didn’t you have
anything to say then?”

“
Because all I could do,
at that moment, was feel.”

“
Feel what?” Sherita
asked, pulling her legs in, away from him.

“
The way your soft hands
felt against my face, tonight. The way your lips felt against mine.
I’ve been thinking about it on the way home, and I’m curious…was it
all an act?”

“
You mean the things we
did at dinner?”

“
More like the things you
did to me, but yes, was it an act?”

“
You tell me, Desmond,
since you said you were
learning
me…said you were studying my thought process and
could…wait, let me get this right…decipher my thoughts and know
what I was thinking without having to say a word, right? So tell
me…do you think it was all an act?”

“
No, I don’t. You were too
into me for it to be an act. Am I right?”

Sherita smiled. He was
right. All of it hadn’t been an act. She didn’t want to admit that
to Emily and Melanie, but she would admit it to Desmond. “Yes.
You’re right.”

Relieved, Desmond asked,
“So tell me the parts that were real.”

“
Why?”

“
Because I want to
know.”

Sherita’s cheeks reddened.
“Ugh…this is so embarrassing,” she mumbled.

Desmond scooted closer to
her. “No it’s not. Tell me,” he said softly.

“
Okay…umm…” She covered
her face with her hands, hiding her shame.

Desmond dropped to his
knees in front of her, wrapping his hands around her wrists,
pulling her hands away from her face. “Tell me.”

“
Okay,” she said, taking a
deep breath. Barely looking at him, she began, “When I said you
were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen…that was true. When I
grabbed your hands and played with them, that was real. I’ve always
found a man’s hands to be the sexiest part of his body, and your
hands are big and strong. I always wanted to play with
them.”

Odd
, he thought, but for the moment, he’d take what he could
get. “And what about the kiss?”

A small smile touched her
lips. “I didn’t want the kiss to end.”

“
Neither did I,” he said,
trying to catch her fleeting eyes. He lowered his hands to her
thighs. Palmed them. “Sherita.”

Sherita trembled when she
felt his hands rest on her thighs. But her nerves didn’t prevent
her from layering her hands on top of his – didn’t prevent her from
gazing into his eyes the moment she felt him flip his hands over
and interlock their fingers.

“
You like playing with my
hands, huh?” he asked, softly.

She looked at him, seeing
his eyes darken, watching as desire swirled in them. Again, she
looked away, focusing on his hands as they rested in her lap.
“Yes.”

Desmond pulled his right
hand away from hers, tilting her chin up with a slight touch of his
index finger so their eyes connected again and said, “Well, I’m
right here now, Sherita. Play with me.”

Sherita felt herself become
weak when he leaned forward to kiss her lips, taking small pecks
from them before deepening the kiss, taking it up a notch from what
she had started in the restaurant, only this time, she wasn’t in
control. She would never be in control again unless he wanted her
to be.

A moan escaped her throat
when she felt his hands brush against the sides of her face and on
to her hair where he pulled the barrette from her hair, grabbing
handfuls of her glory when it fell free.

“
Mmm,” he breathed when he
felt her legs wrap around his torso. All the built-up tension he’d
hidden away for ignoring her for so long was slowly being released
with each ragged breath. How he found the strength to pull away
from her had been beyond him. “Sherita.”

“
Yes?” she said in a
breathless whisper.

“
Do you want this?” He
swallowed hard. “Because if you do, you need to know that this
won’t go any further than tonight.”

Holding his gaze, Sherita
grabbed his shirt from both sides and pulled it over his head and
their lips slammed together again. No, she wasn’t okay with his
statement. Desmond was a handsome, smart, intelligent man, and any
woman would want to have him for a husband. And though she did
marry him, she knew it wasn’t the real thing – the traditional
marriage of a man falling in love with a woman and then proposing
to her. Desmond wasn’t the kind of man who was capable of love.
Seemed those were the only types of men she attracted. She’d given
up on meeting a man who would want her and love her
unconditionally. Some women just weren’t lucky enough to
find
that
man.

Desmond’s hands traveled up
her camisole, feeling her body jerk with his touch, and he watched
her nibble on her bottom lip, bat her eyes softly and grimace just
slightly. He slowly pulled her shirt up over her head and after his
eyes had roamed her chest, he kissed her again, savoring her lips,
drowning his hands in her luxurious strands.

With little effort, he
stood up while their mouths were still connected, her legs still
wrapped around his torso, and walked over to the bed.

She gasped when her eyes
navigated his firm body, taking in the sight of all of him. Lean.
Muscular. Perfect. She was thoroughly impressed by his incredible
male physique.

Desmond crawled on top of
her with ease, lowering his body to hers, taking her lips again. He
scarfed down her moans as quickly as the steak he’d eaten for
dinner tonight. But he would enjoy this so much more.

“
Why do I make you so
nervous, Sherita?” he whispered before rolling his tongue around on
her neck, feeling her quiver. And that’s exactly what he wanted to
feel.

Deciding to answer
honestly, she said, “Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in
a man.”

“
Is that right?” he asked,
feeling a stinging pain in his heart. That wasn’t the answer he
wanted to hear, and he didn’t want to feel anything in his heart.
He’d mastered the ability not to involve his heart when it came to
women, so why did her response bother him?

“
Yes,” she said, trembling
nervously. “Everything.”

Desmond frowned. If she
really felt this way, and by the look on her face, he was sure she
did, he didn’t want to go any further. She couldn’t attach her
emotions to something that wouldn’t last. He didn’t want to hurt
her. So, giving her an out, he said, “Then maybe we shouldn’t do
this.”

“
Why? What’s
wrong?”

“
Because I told you
before, Sherita…I can’t give you what you want…what you deserve
and—”

“
Right now, all I want is
you, Desmond.”

He swallowed hard again.
Everything inside of him told him not to do this. That she deserved
more than what he could give, than what he was willing to give, but
he couldn’t deny the way she felt – skin-to-skin with him – for the
first time. He’d dreamed about countless times and now, it was
happening.

“
Okay,” he said softly,
kissing her again before connecting their souls. Slowly.
Methodically. Unhurriedly. Descending deep into her depths, he felt
a sign of her innocence and how in an instant, he’d taken it away
from her.

His body went completely
still.

Sherita opened her eyes to
look at him. She knew why he’d stopped but, from the expression on
his face, she couldn’t tell if he was shocked or
disappointed.

A mixture of sadness and
fear clouded his features. “Sherita?”

“
Yes,” she said in an
exhale.

“
Why didn’t you tell me,
princess?” he asked her. She’d given him something he didn’t earn.
Something he could never give back.

“
I didn’t want to,” she
answered.

“
Are you o—”

“
I’m fine, Desmond. Just
kiss me.”

So he did. Desmond forced
disappointment away from his face, taking her slowly. Carefully. He
didn’t want her first time to be associated with pain. He wanted
her to be pleased with this experience. He wanted her to be okay.
Needed her to be. She was his soul mate. His wife. As much as he
told himself their marriage was strictly business, he couldn’t deny
the title was wearing on him.