Tempted at Midnight

by Cheris Hodges

  “Ooh, you know what I meant.”

  He nodded as he stroked. She was wet. Soaking. And he was hungry. Needing to have her sweetness in his mouth. Removing his finger, he lifted her from his lap and rose to his feet. “Come with me.”

  “I thought I was on my way to doing just that.”

  Erik shook his head. “That mouth.”

  “Amazing, isn’t it,” she replied as she took his hand. Erik led her into the cabana and pressed her against the wall. He slipped the straps of her dress down, revealing her black lace demi bra. The dress fell to the floor in a flourish and he took a moment to admire her curves. Those thick thighs. He slipped his hand between them. Sylvie sucked her bottom lip as he stroked her.

  “So soft,” he whispered, then dropped to his knees to worship her yoni. She seemed sweeter than he remembered. She was definitely wetter. His tongue lashed her clit, making her call out his name. He sucked and licked until his face was wet with her need. Sylvie quivered as he locked eyes with her while his tongue danced inside her.

  “Erik, Erik, Errr-ik!”

  The look of pleasure on her face urged him to deepen his kiss, to suck, nibble and lick more. The more she screamed, the harder he got. The time for eating was over. He needed to be inside her wetness. He scooped her into his arms and crossed over to the futon in the middle of the room.

  He laid her on the soft cushions, disrobed and then joined her. Wrapping her in his arms, he reveled in the feel of her skin against his. She was so smooth, obviously the inspiration for Carlos Santana. She snaked her legs around his waist.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “Protection.” He reached underneath the pillow and retrieved a condom. Sylvie took the package from his hand and opened it. Untwining her legs from around him, she reached for his thickness—rubbing her hand across the tip—then she slid the condom in place. He pulled her on top of him.

  “Ride me.” His voice was a deep growl and Sylvie followed his command. Mounting him, she expelled a satisfied sigh as he filled her and gripped her hips. They fell into a slow rhythm, grinding to a beat of their own. Fast. Then slow. Faster. Slower. And finally, explosion.

  Sweat poured from their bodies as they fell against each other. Erik traced a bead of sweat down the center of her chest and Sylvie shivered.

  “Cold?”

  “Aftershock.” She kissed his chin. “I don’t normally—”

  He brought his finger to her lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, unless there’s a husband waiting around the corner somewhere.”

  “That’s the last thing you have to worry about.” She snorted and shifted in his arms.

  “Wait, there’s a story behind all of this attitude.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, there isn’t.”

  Erik stroked her cheek. “Spill it, sista.”

  “Why don’t we talk less?” She reached down and gripped his penis. “And play more?”

  As much as he wanted to talk, her stroke brought his body back to life and stoked his desire to be inside her again.

  * * *

  When Sylvie woke in Erik’s arms this time, she didn’t feel the need to run out. But she was confused about what she was feeling. She liked him and she’d promised herself that she’d never risk her heart again.

  After all, Sylvie wasn’t supposed to see Erik again, but here she was in his bed. Well, his cabana. Glancing at his sleeping frame, she sighed and shifted her body. He tightened his arm around her waist.

  “There are no mirrors in here, and if you use my lipstick to write on something, it’s going to be on.”

  “Didn’t plan on leaving a note this time,” she quipped. “But it is late and . . .”

  “We should go inside and relax on a real bed.”

  “Erik,” she said with a sigh. “I have a big day tomorrow. And my client is going to be hounding me if I don’t have his building photograph ready for a certain magazine.”

  “Your client will be fine. If I need to talk to this jerk, I will.”

  She stroked his cheek. “Well, since you say it like that. Maybe we can have a midnight snack. I never finished my dinner, and I think you mentioned dessert.”

  “Come on. I think there might be another steak in the kitchen. I’m sure the bugs are dining on your leftovers.”

  “Ugh. Why did I let you distract me?”

  “Clearly, it was the other way around, doll face.” Erik kissed her on the forehead and then rose to his feet. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  Sylvie took his extended hand and stood up. “Don’t you think we need to put some clothes on first?”

  “Optional.”

  She laughed. “I do have a question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Who gave you those god-awful chairs on your front porch?”

  Chapter 10

  As Erik showed Sylvie around his house, he felt judged by her silence. Also a first when it came to a woman who had the privilege of being inside his house. Of course, Sylvie was different.

  “What’s that look?” he asked as they walked into the living room.

  “You said no business talk tonight, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But.” She pointed to the pastel green walls in the living room. “This looks like a bad Throwback Thursday picture on Facebook.”

  “Well, glad my feelings aren’t hurt.”

  She placed her hand on his chest. “Don’t get me wrong. Your home is very neat.”

  “That is the most backhanded compliment I’ve heard in my life.”

  She shrugged and walked over to the white leather sofa near the bay window. “This sofa doesn’t belong in this room—or this earth, to be honest with you. Who decorated this place? Your grandma?”

  “That’s cold. All I did was move in here and added the pool. The rest of the place was handled by my mother’s old interior designer.”

  Sylvie brought her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m sure Clara Belle did the best she could at the time.”

  “When? The 1980s? You should think about redecorating this place. Because if you’re going to have a huge profile done about you, people are going to want to see your home.”

  “Really? Know anyone up for the job?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I can give you a list of recommendations.”

  “If you know Sylvia Gates, have her give me a call. In the morning.”

  “Why in the morning?”

  “Didn’t I tell you no business tonight? You keep breaking the rules.”

  “Isn’t that what rules are for?”

  “Not if you want this dessert.” He winked at her, then turned toward the kitchen. As they walked through the formal dining room, Sylvie shook her head.

  “Clearly she was influenced by Tim Burton.”

  “Stop being a hater,” he said as they walked into the kitchen. This room was modern and she thought the first glimpse of the real Erik Jordan. Well, technically not her first glimpse, but more insight into the man.

  The black and stainless steel appliances glistened in the soft lighting. Copper pots hung above the stove. If he hadn’t told her about his chef, she’d think he was a cook.

  “What now, Sylvie?” He watched her as she studied the kitchen.

  “This is probably the only room in the house that looks like you. Even if you don’t cook.”

  “Didn’t say I didn’t cook. I just didn’t do it tonight.”

  She ran her hand across the marble countertop. “And what do you cook, Bobby Flay?”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “My breakfast is legendary. Grits, eggs, French toast with almonds and hot maple syrup.”

  “That does sound good.”

  “Then it’s settled, you’re staying for breakfast.” She cocked her head to the side. “You’re so presumptuous. And I can’t be bought with food alone. What kind of coffee do you have?”

  “Only the best beans from Hawaii.
I love Kona coffee.”

  “You’re tempting me to stay.”

  He closed the space between them. “I need to do more than tempt you. I need to convince you that walking out that door is going to be the biggest mistake you make tonight.” Erik cupped her face in his hands. “Did I mention that smoked-applewood bacon?”

  She shook her head. “You just lost me. I gave up pork the other day.”

  “What kind of monster are you?” he quipped.

  Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. What happened to this magical dessert that you promised me? If I had to see all of that stuff around your house, I want my sweets.”

  He brushed his lips against hers. “So do I.” He kissed her slow and deep, drawing her tongue into his mouth. Lost in the heat of the kiss, Erik pressed her against the counter, realizing that the only dessert he needed was another taste of Sylvie.

  Greedy? Yes. But he couldn’t get enough of this woman. Breaking the kiss, he lifted her onto the countertop, then spread her thighs.

  “Is it all right if I get my sweets first?” He ran his finger across her inner thigh.

  She nodded and took his hand in hers, then pressed his finger inside her. “Do your thing, Erik.”

  Slipping between her thighs, he kissed her wetness, lapping her sweet pearl until she threw her head back in ecstasy. Lick. Suck. Explosion.

  Her body went limp and Erik lifted her into his arms. “Delicious as always.”

  “Umm. Your mouth should come with a warning label.” She ran her index finger across his lips. Erik took her over to a bar stool and set her down.

  “You good?”

  “Will be as soon as my knees stop shivering.”

  He kissed her on the cheek and crossed over to the refrigerator, where he pulled out two huge slices of chocolate cake. Sylvie’s eyes stretched to the size of quarters.

  “How did you know I have a weakness for chocolate? Dark chocolate to be exact.”

  He held his arms out and smiled. “It wasn’t hard to guess.” Erik set a plate in front of her. “I’d like to think that you’ve enjoyed me more than you’re going to enjoy that cake.”

  “Give me a fork and I’ll be the judge of that.”

  He flashed her a cool glance before reaching into a drawer and handing her a fork. “Keep in mind that I have a male ego and even if the cake is better, it’s okay to lie.”

  Sylvie laughed. “You’re funny, and I’ll happily protect your fragile ego.” She dug into the cake and moaned as she took a bite.

  Erik’s ego was a little bruised because he’d heard those sounds of satisfaction coming from her earlier. He coughed. And she grinned at him with a bit of chocolate on her front tooth. He pushed his own cake aside and kissed the chocolate away.

  “Finally found something that doesn’t look good on you,” he said when they broke the kiss.

  “You know, you just could’ve told me that I had chocolate on me.”

  He shrugged. “I can’t resist kissing you. You staying for breakfast?”

  Sylvie licked her lips. “You’re driving a hard bargain.”

  “Trust me, it’s going to be well worth it. If for no other reason than I have the most comfortable bed in the city.”

  “Are you five-star-rated on Yelp?” she quipped. “I’m not worried about your bed. All I know is, your breakfast better be as good as this cake or I’m leaving your walls pale green and adding white lace dollies to your tables.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  She nodded. “And I’ll post the pictures to my Instagram with the caption that this was your idea.”

  “At least you’re taking the job to make this place modern.”

  “I thought we couldn’t talk business until tomorrow?” She raised her eyebrow.

  Erik pointed to the clock on the stove. “Technically, it’s tomorrow. But we can table this until the sun comes up.”

  “Or until I finish my cake?”

  “Sun up, after you’ve fallen in love with my breakfast and coffee.”

  She polished off the last of the chocolate cake, replete with licking the frosting from the fork, and nodded toward Erik. “You better be right. It takes a lot for me to fall in love with anything.”

  “The way you destroyed that cake says otherwise.” Erik took her plate and placed it in the deep sink. “Would you like milk, wine, or water to wash that down?”

  “Since I have a business meeting in the morning, I’d better go with milk.”

  Erik grabbed two glasses and filled them with almond milk. When he dropped two ice cubes in his glass, Sylvie uttered, “Eww.”

  “What? I like my drinks ice-cold.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  “Meaning?”

  She rubbed her forearms. “It’s colder in here than it is outside.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.” He slid a glass of milk over to her and watched as she sipped it.

  “Almond milk, huh?”

  “You don’t like it?”

  She shook her head. “I do. It’s just . . . Never mind.”

  “Tell me,” he said with his brows furrowed.

  “Why do you want me to spill my guts so bad? We’re both adults and have had things that happened in our past.”

  Erik picked up his glass and downed his milk. “True. Sounds like you just dropped a hint. Guarded much?”

  She raised her right eyebrow at him. “Don’t get it twisted, I was talking about food only. Love is just another four-letter word.”

  “That’s hardcore.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pointed her toward the spiral staircase. “Let’s go to bed.”

  * * *

  Sylvie thought Erik was going to probe further about her take on love, and when he didn’t she was filled with relief. Tonight, she didn’t want to think about heartache and pain. And that’s what love was. Her heart had never recovered from losing her father, who, to this day, was the best man that she’d ever known. When he died and Sylvie’s mother decided to leave their French Quarter home, she felt as if her mom didn’t hurt as much as she did. Years later, when she was old enough to understand, her mother told her that the house held too many memories for her stay there without crying every day. She’d explained to Sylvie that her father would always have a place in her heart, no matter where they lived.

  “Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Erik said once they reached the top of the stairs. Sylvie had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t paid any attention to the Hogwarts-like portraits. It would’ve been different if the pictures were in nice frames instead of huge silver ones that clashed with the gold trim on the stairs and the crystal chandelier that flanked them.

  “Who hurt you?” she quipped.

  Erik laughed. “I don’t think anyone has ever trash-talked my home the way you have.”

  “They just didn’t do it to your face. It’s all right, being rich allows you to have bad taste. That’s why people like me exist.”

  Erik rolled his eyes as they headed for his dark bedroom. He wasn’t surprised that she gave his bedroom a critical eye.

  “This room isn’t half bad,” she said as she opened the blackout shades. “Earth tones and all of that. It’s just a little dated. But it looks super comfortable.” She crossed over to the bed and plopped down. “You might have been right about this bed. It is pretty amazing.”

  She stretched out and lifted her arms above her head. Erik inhaled as he gave her a slow gaze. Just having Sylvie in his bed made the room look a thousand times better. Like she belonged there.

  What in the hell am I thinking? Erik joined her on the bed and drew her into his arms. “Are you done or are you finished?”

  “Funny.” She yawned and Erik fought the urge to kiss her again. How could a woman be that damn sexy doing something so simple?

  “Are you going to be comfortable in that dress all night?”

  She rolled over on her side and brought her face closer to his. “Normally, I sleep naked. So, I doubt I’ll b
e comfortable at all.”

  “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered as he stroked her cheek. “You’re something else. Whatever you think, you say it, huh?”

  Sylvie stroked his face. “Pretty much. I don’t have time to care what other people think about me anymore.”

  Erik yawned, and though he wanted to ask her when and why she’d ever felt that way, he was too tired to deal with another deflection from her. “Well, if you need to feel comfortable and take that dress off, I don’t mind.” He kissed her shoulder.

  “Whatever,” she said as she inched closer to him. Erik wrapped his arms around her waist and realized this was the first woman he’d ever wanted to hold while she slept.

  Sleep didn’t come easy for Sylvie. Though she was comfortable in Erik’s bed and his arms, her mind went back to the huge bomb dropped on her earlier that day. Amanda having his baby. How did those two even get together? Did they hate her that much that they decided to do this?

  Sylvie almost laughed, but she hadn’t wanted to wake Erik. She was the one with a grievance. Her so-called friend and the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with were having a baby. When she shivered, she did wake Erik.

  “Are you all right?” His voice was thick with sleep.

  “Umm, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I told you to get naked and be comfortable.” Erik chuckled and closed his eyes. “Are you sure everything is all right? You’ve been tossing and turning all night.”

  She shrugged but didn’t reply. A silent beat passed and she flipped over on her back. “Is it time for that breakfast you lured me into bed with?”

  Looking down at his growing erection, Erik smiled. “You know French toast didn’t get you here.”

  “You’re right. It was the promise of Kona coffee.” She rolled out of his embrace and chuckled. “Erik, thank you for last night. Dinner and . . . You’re a great guy.”

  “This is starting to sound like a lipstick message.”

  Sylvie sat up and leaned against the headboard. “No, it isn’t. You’re never going to forget that, are you?”

  He shook his head as he propped up on a pillow. “When something like that happens to a man like me, one doesn’t forget it. Especially when fate laughs and brings you back into my life.”