The Right to Love
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by Aliyah Burke
Description: Carmine "Jesse" Mason loved being a cop and that love cost him the woman of his dreams. Tiffie wouldn't marry a man wearing a badge. Eight years after she'd left him, he still misses her, still loves her. When he spies her at the precinct, all the old emotions rush to the forefront. This time, he's not willing to let her go.
Tiffany "Tiffie" Carver has returned to the city she'd left after the man who owns her heart asked her to be his wife. Despite her feelings for him, she'd been unable to marry the man behind the badge, and with her refusal she vanished. A twist of fate brings her home and subsequently back to Jesse. He is there making her face past decisions and tempting her with a future beyond her wildest dreams: a future together.
eBook Publisher: Whispers Publishing, 2011
eBookwise Release Date: May 2011
2 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [101 KB]
Reading time: 61-85 min.
She swallowed and put forth her question. "Why are you here?"
He pegged her with his beryl-blue gaze, and she felt it clear down in the pit of her stomach. Carmine "Jesse" Mason had had this way of seeing past her masks to the true her. Apparently, he still retained the ability.
Adding the fruit to the bowl gave her a brief respite. "You. Here. Why?"
"Did you hate me that much?"
Damn him. Why can't he let it go? "I never hated you. You know that. Let it go. I'm not in the mood."
He muttered something which the thunder seemed to echo. "Fine," he bit off. Jesse stopped chopping and pierced her with his gaze. "Why were you at the precinct?"
Forcing her emotions to remain cool, she reached for another nectarine. "I saw one of your fellow officers pinching an IV on a suspect."
His thick brows converged. "Who?"
"Not important." A thunderous expression filled his masculine features. "I mean it, Jesse. I'm a grown woman, a doctor, and I don't need you thinking you need to protect me."
The anger morphed into heated passion. His eyes smoldered as he trailed them up over her exposed body, lingering on her breasts. They tightened under his blatant stare. Her pulse quickened, and she could feel the rub of her pebbled nipples against the fabric of her bra with each breath she took.
"Trust me, Tiffie. I'm well aware you're a grown woman."
"The name is Tiffany."
He popped a piece of pear in his mouth. A slow languid blink followed. "So it's just Tiffie in the bedroom?"
Her pussy clenched, and she grew wet. Pouring ice in her voice she said, "Yes, that's exactly it. All the guys I sleep with, I tell them to call me Tiffie."
He ground his jaw, and there was a tic in it as well. She hid her smirk. It truly didn't take much to rile him.
Not so fun to play this game is it? "That what you wanted to hear?"
"No, damn it!" He dropped the knife and was at her side so fast she wondered if he hadn't perhaps cleared the island. "Eight years, Tiffie. Eight fucking years. I thought I had moved past losing you. I haven't. Is that what you want to hear? Damn you. I loved you!"
Loved. Past. Had at one point. Yet no longer. Something inside her broke. She'd not moved past him either.
"I know," she said, not struggling against the iron clasp he had on her upper arms.
His entire visage relaxed. He stared at her for a short while before releasing his hold on her. Seconds passed with them staring at one another. The deluge with its wind, thunder, and lightning accompaniment provided the background noise.
The air between them crackled with burgeoning energy. She turned and went back to chopping fruit. His intense gaze could be felt for a bit longer until he returned to the pear he'd cut.
She glanced at him and found his attention on the countertop. The part of her which still loved him wanted to forget the salad and run into his arms. Let him take her back to the bedroom and reawaken that part of her which had been ignored far too long.
Hell, even right here would be fine. It wouldn't be the first time they'd made love in a kitchen. Including this one. Another wave of desire crashed into her. If only he... Another door to slam on wayward thoughts. Which she did.