“The prime rib not to your liking?” Dexter asked eyeing Anthia’s plate. They were seated in a plush Southfield restaurant.
“Just not very hungry,” she said taking a sip from her water goblet. It had been a emotionally draining evening.
Dexter had been away from the center most of the night. He and Charles Randol had been out in the community, trying to locate one of the two young men that gang members had come to the center looking for. Guy Malone had been left in charge to oversee basketball practice, computer classes and tutoring sessions that had been scheduled for that evening.
It saddened Anthia, knowing that some of the older boys were on their own. More often than not, they rented rooms from rooming houses. They had no family to speak of. No one to care if they stayed in school or became involved in the gang scene.
“You’re not doing so well yourself.” He’d barely tasted his own food. “You have to stop blaming yourself. You did everything you could,” she ended softly.
They hadn’t found the boy in the tiny one-bedroom apartment he shared with his grandmother but in Sinai Hospital. He had been badly beaten, shot in the side and left to die in a deserted alley.
“Craig was lucky. They could have killed him if they wanted. They were sending a message to the others not to try to find a way out,” Dexter said with a scowl. “We have a proven method of help and support, yet too damn many kids still choose the streets. Why? I just don’t understand it. There are ways out of poverty other than crime. Damn it, it doesn’t have to be this way.” Anthia reached out to Dexter, squeezed his hand reassuringly. As he knew, there were no easy answers and she didn’t waste their time trying to find one. It said a lot that he was willing to risk his own safety time after time again in order to help others. He was one of a kind, a rare gem, in her opinion.
“I just hope he pulls through.”
“He will,” Dexter said stubbornly. “He’s young and he’s strong. He’s got to be all right.”
Anthia could not help recalling the struggle it had been for her own son to recover from having been shot. She shuddered, remembering the agony and fear she had faced as she waited in the hospital for word.
Dexter turned his hand until their fingers interlaced. It was the first time he had touched her all evening. Her beautiful, dark eyes collided with his.
“We haven’t had any privacy,” he said softly. He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How are you?”
She blinked quickly in surprise before she said, “I’m fine.”
“I hurt you last night. And I didn’t stop with once. Are you terribly tender?”
Anthia’s cheeks were so hot that she wanted to hide her face as she flushed with embarrassment. “I’m fine,” she managed before she chose a less personal topic. “Are you going back to the hospital tonight?”
If Dexter was surprised by the question, he did not show it. “Yeah. His grandmother isn’t strong enough to stay with him through the night. He needs someone.”
“And he has you,” Anthia smiled, feeling a sudden urge to press her lips to his. His compassion was only one reason why she cared so deeply for him. Dexter was a very special man who lived as he believed. There was no double standard with him.
She reached into her purse and handed him a peach note card. “Jeff’s number. When you have some time, would you please talk to him about speaking at the center? I think he’s making a mistake by isolating himself. He needs friends both male and female.”
“Of course.” His eyes lingered on her small African features. Her skin was so rich, flawless like a creamy brown chocolate. She was like that all over. He blinked trying to clear his head of the enticing memory. His voice was huskier than he would like when he asked, “All set?”
He had not been given a chance to say what was on his mind. In truth, he hadn’t really had time to sort it all out himself. One night of this petite woman’s lovemaking and he was hungrier than he’d ever been in his entire life. Could he walk away from what they had found in each other’s arms? More importantly, did he even have the strength to try?
This thing with Craig was almost a relief, not that he wanted the boy hurt. Nevertheless, it gave him something to focus on outside of himself. He needed time... time to evaluate their situation with some perspective.
He was too close to it right now... too vulnerable where she was concerned. He almost laughed aloud. He certainly thought he knew what was best that morning when he left her bed satiated for the first time since he’d lost Christine. Anthia made their lovemaking special... sizzling hot loving, coupled with a powerful release.
“I’m ready,” she said collecting her things before rising.
Dexter found his hands lingering on her shoulders even after he’d helped her into her tangerine swing coat. He had to force himself to focus on the obvious, like dropping a bill on the table and following her out without his interested gaze lingering on the soft, sexy sway of her hips. Hot damn! The girl knew she had a man-catching walk. She attracted men like flies to flypaper... without any effort on her part. He was as hard and randy as the next guy. For he never tired of just looking at her.
Outside in the restaurant parking lot, Anthia paused to say, “Good luck with Craig. I will keep him in my prayers.” She reached up on tiptoes to briefly brush her soft mouth against his before she slipped behind the steering wheel of her car.
A muscle worked rhythmically in his cheek as he fought to control his natural urge to take her in his arms and never let her go. He closed her car door with a deceptive quietness. What he really wanted was to slam the damn thing as hard as he could.
Was that peck designed to appease him? Didn’t the woman know the difference between a man and a boy? If she found it necessary to kiss him, why hadn’t she opened her sweet mouth under his and given him the tonguing he craved?
As was his custom, Dexter followed her home. When she hopped out of her car, he was only a few steps behind her. His gaze dark and brooding.
“Dex? I thought you were on your way to the hospital?”
“I thought you knew how to kiss a man. I don’t like being teased,” he snapped, before he dropped his head, hungrily covering her mouth with his.
Legs spread, he lifted her into the cradle of his thighs. He moaned deep in his throat as he thrust his tongue between her full, perfectly formed lips into the honeyed depths of her mouth. His arms tightened around her until her sweet curves were pressed into his hard, aching length. She had not been teasing last night when she opened her soft thighs for him. How could she expect him to accept less now? His earlier decision was temporarily forgotten as he indulged his senses.
After years of loneliness, Dexter could not deny himself this tiny bit of pleasure. Anthia was all he desired in a woman. She was petite, but she pleased him, pleasured him to the brink of madness. Last night, she had belonged to him.
“Dex.” she whispered against his mouth, her hard-nippled breasts soft against the wall of his chest. He was driving her out of her mind with longing. The memory of his intense loving made her eager for more. He had driven his steel-hard length into her until she literally came apart in his arms. The experience had been breath-takingly wondrous. She’d never experienced a climax until she made love with Dexter. Talk about rocking her world! He had done that and more.
Dexter released her before she did something insane like rub her sex against his in plain view of her neighbors who might happen to look their way.
She whispered, “Let’s finish this inside.”
As the sensual haze cleared, he was disgusted with himself. He’d gone against his own best judgment. He had allowed his sexual hunger to do his thinking for him. Damn it, it never happened this way with any woman, only Anthia.
Cupping her elbow, he silently urged her toward the door. Using her keys, he was grateful for the space it put between them. When she was in his arms, his brain stopped functioning and his hormones went into fast-forward.
“Don’t you need to disengage the alarm?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes...” she answered as if coming awake from a deep sleep. After punching in the code, she turned back to him. But to her disappointment, he made no move to take her back into his arms. “Must you go?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
She nodded, then said as she boldly moved back to where she longed to be, “Why don’t you stop over before you go on home in the morning? I’d be glad to give you breakfast... a back rub... whatever you need.”
Dexter had no trouble reading the blush on her soft brown face or the sensuous desire in her velvety dark eyes. What man in his right mind could resist her? She was everything he could want in a woman. He tried not to think of how much he wanted her or how many ways he would like to make love to her, take her until she screamed his name as she climaxed. He had to remind himself yet again that there were other considerations.
Where Anthia’s happiness was concerned, it mattered to him. He didn’t want to see her hurt and he couldn’t bear the thought of him being the source of that hurting. She deserved the best that life had to offer... the very best. She deserved a man that could give her his name and his babies, but most of all, his heart.
He did not need to be reminded that he had completely lost his head last night. He was still on the shaky ground. If he continued to let his libido do his thinking for him, he would end up hurting her a little more each and every time they made love. How could he do that to her?
He had nothing to offer her... other than his friendship. He had no choice but to tell her... tell her now.
“Anthia.”
“Honey...”
Before she could move any closer, he grated harshly, “I was wrong last night. I lost control and took total advantage of the situation. I let my erection do my thinking for me. For that I apologize.”
“Apologize...” was all that she was able stammer aloud. Her thoughts raced as she stared up at him as if her heart was breaking. It certainly felt as if it had crumbled into too many pieces to count... all piled in an aching heap at his feet.
“Anthia, if you could try to...”
“No! Don’t say it,” she said holding her hand up as if to stop the flow of his words. All she knew was that she had given him all she had to give and he was tossing it carelessly away as if it meant nothing to him... nothing.
“How can you say this now when you clearly wanted me last night. You can’t even tell me that you didn’t want me. We made love several times, Dexter.”
“I never said I didn’t want you. I had no right to take advantage of our friendship like I did. No, right at all!” he grated impatiently.
“I gave you the right. I welcomed you into my home... into my bed... into my body. What is this? Why was it so wrong? We were both consenting adults, not children.” Her voice shook from emotion.
Dexter stood with his hands balled at his side, struggling with himself. What could he say? How could he explain it to her when he wasn’t even sure he understood himself.
“That first time was so exciting... you shuddered in my arms, but the times after were so wonderfully sweet and satisfying. I had my first climax with you, Dexter because you took your time with me. You made me feel so special... so cared about, baby.”
He swore beneath his breath, refusing to voice how deeply her revelation touched him. He was already semi-aroused just thinking about being inside of her. She turned him on big time. But he was more than a sexual being, he was a man who valued her as a person.
“Don’t you think I was flattered that you let me make love to you?” He choked out past the constriction in his throat. “This is about more than mutually gratifying sex. This is about genuine caring. Anthia, we can’t fall in love with each other. You know why it can’t work.”
Fury built inside of her to such proportions that she wanted to throw something, preferably at his big old head. How could one man be so blind? She knew he cared for her, but she also knew he flatly refused to let himself love her.
“We’ve been over this before...”
She interrupted, “And you know I think you’re so wrong. You’re letting what happened in the past destroy any chance that we might have for future happiness. We only go through life one time, Dexter Washington. Don’t you want to feel whole again... complete?”
“Naturally, I do, but...”
“Well you’re not going to have it as long as you let the past get in the way. Not with me, not with anyone!”
“I made a terrible mistake, Anthia. Nothing you or I can do will change what happened. Our being together was no little thing. I...”
“It was an accident. Christine’s death was not your fault. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
“Because it may not be the truth. The fact remains that my wife and child are gone. Don’t you see, as long as there’s doubt I can’t be free of it.”
“You won’t let yourself forget. You’ve decided to pay for it with the rest of your life by denying yourself any kind of happiness,” she said candidly.
“That’s not what I’m doing!”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Frustrated by his inability to make her understand, he said wearily, “You deserve the best. A man who can give you his whole heart. A man without any emotional baggage constantly mucking the waters.”
Anthia had been prepared for this. She knew him well enough to realize that he would not let himself be happy or celebrate what they had. She had suspected that he might regret their intimacy. It had been in his eyes that morning. In his voice at dinner. Nonetheless, she felt a keen sense of disappointment.
She had fought her own fears and tried to find the best way to handle the situation, without allowing it to hurt her. She’d failed. She felt as if he had constructed a brick wall around his heart and her hands were bloody from trying to pull them down one by one.
While she gained joy from their coming together, Dexter had experienced something entirely different. To Anthia it had been a natural expression of what she felt for him. Despite the fact that her sexual experiences were limited, she knew what they had shared was very special, something to be treasured.
His caring was in the determined way he put her needs ahead of his own. His tenderness was in the way he held her, cradling her close to his heart. His anguish was unmistakable.
“I don’t want to lose you, Anthia.”
“You’d rather I pretend that we didn’t make love,” she accused.
Dexter let out a deep, heavy sigh, after glancing wearily at his watch, he said, “Please, can we discuss this later. I have to get to the hospital. I gave my word.”
The last thing Anthia wanted to do was postpone their discussion. She longed to say, “Right here, right now,” but she wisely decided not to push the issue. What would it hurt to give herself more time to think it through?
“Good night.”
Although Dexter studied her soft pretty mouth, he made no attempt to kiss her, again. He settled for squeezing her hand before he left. “Bye.”
Anthia was surprised at how much control she exhibited as she closed the door and locked it behind him. She would like nothing better than to scream her frustration at Dexter. She was furious with him. It felt as if he had tossed her love right back in her face.
Did he have any idea how deeply he had hurt her? How badly it made her feel about them... what they had shared? She would have rather he kept the information to himself.
She couldn’t ignore the regret she had seen in his eyes...
She had not wanted to accept it this morning or now. She had known going in that there was a risk. A big risk. It was not as if he had not always been open with her about his feelings. Nonetheless, she wanted to blame him. She needed to place her keen disappointment at his door.
It had taken years to find a man she could trust and believe in. Her mistake had been quite simple. She thought she could trust him with her love. How could she have been so foolish?
Evidently, he had shared only his superb male body with her. When their sexual encounter was over, he was also finished. He could walk away with a clear conscious. He had done what any man would have done. He had merely taken what had been offered.
“Dexter... why can’t you give us a chance?” That was all she really wanted, a fair chance.
But she had known. She had known all along. What had she been trying to do? Had she hoped to trap him? Was that what all this was about? Had she wanted him so badly that she was willing to do whatever it took to keep him?
Anthia moaned in misery. Surely, she was not that naive, that desperate for a man. She walked into her bedroom without bothering to switch on the lamps, sank dejectedly onto her bed. It was nothing new. Women had been making fools of themselves over men since the beginning of time.
Slowly, she replayed their night together in her mind. Her hunger for him had matched his for her. Was he also denying that? How could there be any doubt that what they had done was make love to each other? It had been a mutually enjoyable experience that had left them both breathless from the sheer wonder of it. They had both been equal participants.
As she hugged her knees to her chest, Anthia accepted that she had nothing to be ashamed of. Dexter had made love to her through the night. When he had left in the morning he had been semi-aroused.
In spite of his own personal tragedy, Dexter had wanted her. That had to have meant something. It had to be a good sign. He was not as immune to her as he wanted her to believe. It had not been easy for him to tell her what he had told her tonight.
“Where’s your backbone, girl?” she mumbled aloud. She had been the one who raised her son alone after her mother’s death. She had been the one to turn away from a job that lacked creativity and fulfillment to finally do what she genuinely loved. She’d started her own business and she was making a success of it.
No, she had done nothing wrong by giving and receiving love from the one man she respected and adored. He was her best friend. The one who had stood by her through the most traumatic time of her son’s life. With God’s grace and Dexter’s support, she had made it through. He cared deeply for her.
What he was doing was running scared. He was the one allowing the past to come between them. He was the one not able to admit to himself that he had strong emotions where she was concerned. No matter how vehemently he denied it, he was as needy for love as the next person. It was what he sought from her even if he were not able to admit it.
As much as he had hurt her, she instinctively knew that now was not the time to give up on him. Life was just too unpredictable to throw away that special magic that they shared simply because it made them vulnerable to each other.
Why couldn’t Dexter see that? Why wasn’t he willing to risk trying again? He had been hurt badly in the past, but so had she. Anthia had known the hurt and disappointment of loving someone who did not return the emotions.
It was true that she had never suffered a tragic loss like the one he had experienced, nor had she paid the ultimate price by giving up years of her life like he had. Somehow, she had to help him see that his personal life was far from over. He had no right to give up on his own chance at happiness.
Anthia was forced to acknowledge that no matter how badly she wanted things to be different for them, Dexter was not in the same emotional place as she was. He had endured more heartache that any one man deserved.
Maybe, she was the one asking for heartache. Nevertheless, she could not turn her back on him. He was such a compassionate man, who had dedicated his life to helping others. He was worth all the hell he was putting her through. He was worth much, much more. No, she was not quite ready to give up on them. She loved him too much. And she knew she had an uphill battle ahead of her.