Quench My Thirst
R. Moreen Clarke
APHRODISIA
KENSINGTON BOOKS
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Prologue
The room was dark, with minimal illumination from the full moon filtering in through the small slits in the blinds. A thin layer of sweat glistened on their naked bodies as they lay spent in the middle of the bed. Positioned in the crook of his arm, she raised herself up and began to slowly tease his nipple with her tongue. He moaned in pleasure, feeling his manhood rising once again to the challenge of this insatiable woman. He lifted her on top of him. She positioned herself as he easily slipped into her cavity already filled with the juices of their previous lovemaking. Tossing her hair back, she sat erect and began rocking slowly back and forth. With her fingertips she caressed and tweaked his hardened nipples. Feeling his rock-hard member pulsing inside, she began moaning from the pleasurable feelings overtaking her. Her cries became louder, and he knew another climax was near. Deftly lifting her with one arm cradled under her back, he swiftly changed positions and drove them both to a thunderous climax. He collapsed on the bed next to her. She laughed and lightly kissed him several times on his bearded cheek.
“You’re insatiable, do you know that?” he asked breathlessly.
“Yes, and you love it,” she teased as she snuggled in to lay her head in the niche between his neck and shoulder.
“That was the third time tonight. I’ll be dead before my time if we keep this pace up. But I can’t think of a better way to go.” He laughed and pulled her close to him.
Olivia never thought she could be this happy again. Desmond brought so much peace to her life. They were so in tune with one another; after only a few short months they had felt as if they’d known each other for years and knew they would spend the rest of their years together. Two hearts finally joined as one. She found it hard to believe they had met only two years ago, and on the Internet of all places. It was a secret they shared with only their closest family members.
They were just drifting off to sleep when the phone rang, startling both of them. “Who could that be at this time of night?” Olivia asked, perplexed and a little nervous. Phone calls at two in the morning were never good news. The phone was located on her nightstand, so she rolled away from Desmond to answer it. “Hello?”
“Olivia?” a deep male voice queried.
“Yes,” she replied hesitantly, unable to recognize the voice.
“Olivia, it’s Damian,” he said.
“Oh,” she replied, and then she remembered who he was. “Oh, no, Damian, what’s the matter?” She was frightened now. She hadn’t spoken to Damian in almost a year, and for him to call her at two in the morning meant something must be terribly wrong. Desmond was now sitting up beside her in the bed, concerned by her agitated state.
“It’s Trevor—” Damian started.
“Oh, God, oh, God,” she interrupted, feeling herself growing faint. She placed a hand to her forehead. Desmond tried to take the phone from her to find out what was going on. She pushed him away and asked, “Is he…?” She couldn’t say the words that were forming in her mind.
“No, no, Olivia. He’s not, but he’s in big trouble. Really big trouble, and he needs you,” Damian said urgently.
Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. As long as he wasn’t dead, they could fix anything else. She was certain. Calming herself down, she reached out and touched Desmond’s hand. “Trevor’s in trouble,” she said to him, and then to Damian, “What kind of trouble?”
“He’s been arrested. He could be charged with murder,” he said quietly as if saying it aloud would make it not real. He’d been battling this for the last three hours on his own. Trevor hadn’t wanted him to call. Trevor was hoping it was just a mistake and the cops would realize he hadn’t done anything. When they booked him, Damian knew he had to call. He needed help. Trevor needed help. He needed someone who would have as much faith in Trevor as he did. Olivia was the only one he could think of.
Olivia felt faint once again. Her heart was racing in her chest. This just couldn’t be happening. Unable to speak, with tears welling in her eyes and clogging her throat, she handed the phone to Desmond.
Desmond spoke with Damian for about fifteen minutes, getting the details of what had happened as best as Damian could supply. He assured Damian they would be on the first available flight to Chicago. He hung up the phone and pulled Olivia into his arms. “Let’s not panic. We’ll go to Chicago and get the whole story from Trevor, and then we can go from there. Let’s not put the cart before the horse. Everything will be fine. I’m sure,” he said to the top of her head as he looked at the full moon through the window. He hated full moons; crazy things always happened on the night of the full moon. He didn’t know Trevor well, but what he did know of him led him to believe he was probably innocent. Unfortunately Desmond didn’t know him well enough to have the faith and trust in him Olivia and Damian had. How many men did something totally out of character when placed in a bad situation? Damian had let slip something about Trevor, which Desmond knew Olivia was not aware of. Olivia would have to be told the truth about Trevor, and it was going to turn her world upside down. He just hoped she was strong enough to get through this….
1
The Women
EVERY SUNDAY, SISTER—Denise stood in her bedroom facing the standing full-length mirror angled into the corner of the room. She knew when she purchased the mirror it was an extravagance. Its mahogany framed oval mirror accented the mahogany four-poster bed. Off-white folds of silk, which made up the canopy drapes, hung dramatically from the posts. She deserved it, she reasoned. She had worked very hard to become as successful as she was. Currently the top auditor at Miles and Cavish bookkeeping firm, she had started there as an apprentice and worked her way up while going to college full time to get her degree. Denise Jenkins was well respected amongst her peers and clients. A no-nonsense kind of woman, she displayed a very polished and austere presence.
She adjusted the chignon she wore and patted down any stray strands of hair that might dare to escape. Collecting her pale lavender hat from the chaise in the corner of the bedroom, she carefully placed it on her head, making certain to give it just the right tilt. She did a slow pirouette in the mirror as she smoothed the matching lavender suit over her ample hips. Everything was in its proper place. She picked up her purple purse and white leather-bound bible from her nightstand and walked out the door.
Within fifteen minutes she pulled into the parking lot of the Mount Calvary First Baptist Church. Emerging from her white Cadillac Seville, she once again smoothed the skirt of her suit and proceeded to the front of the