Dark Chocolate Murder

by Anisa Claire West

  “I’m fine!” Crystal fibbed. “Aren’t you even going to offer me some chocolate?” She asked incredulously.

  “Of course I am! Here, take your pick.” Belinda motioned towards the endless glass-enclosed cases of candies.

  Crystal picked out a Salted Praline truffle and nibbled on it thoughtfully. Without warning, she burst out, “You think I have the perfect marriage, right? Wrong! You think because I just stay home all day that I’ve got it made. Well, Jean-Jacques and I don’t even---we don’t…you know. Ugh, let me just say it. He’s impotent! Why do you think we don’t have any children yet?” Crystal looked as though a huge weight had just been lifted off her, but Belinda felt burdened by the revelation.

  “Crystal, why did you tell me that? I’m so embarrassed for Jean-Jacques. I won’t even be able to look at him now.”

  “How do you think I feel?! Oh, Belinda, it’s all a façade. My husband and I are roommates in a castle!” Crystal said disgustedly.

  “But Jean-Jacques seems so romantic with you. I mean, I’ll never forget our lunch on my first day here when he was feeding you a grape.” Belinda recalled how awkward she had felt that day.

  “Please! I don’t need a man to put fruit in my mouth! I need a man to make the headboard vibrate!” Crystal cried in frustration.

  Belinda looked at her sympathetically. She knew exactly how she felt. Daniel had not been impotent, but he might as well have been, he was such an inferior lover. Belinda remembered that cold feeling in bed next to him, how he would turn over on his side and sleep by the edge of the bed. Apparently, he would have preferred rolling onto the floor and cracking his skull open to snuggling with his wife.

  “I bet Pierre’s not impotent. That man has the body of a prize-winning stallion, and I’ll bet the endurance of one. Yes, I’ll take that bet to the races!” Crystal laughed wickedly. “There’s no way a man like Pierre would ever be impotent.”

  Belinda furrowed her brow at the saucy way her sister was speaking about Pierre. Clearly, it had not been her imagination that Crystal was gawking at him last night like a love-struck teenager. Carefully, Belinda broached the topic. “You know, I didn’t like how you were looking at Pierre last night. And I don’t appreciate the comments you just made about him.”

  Crystal looked down, mortified. “I’m sorry. I know I was staring at him last night. I didn’t mean any disrespect to you, Belinda, believe me. It’s just so frustrating being married to a man who’s impotent.”

  “Stop saying ‘impotent.’ I don’t like that word.” Belinda scrunched up her nose distastefully, although she had already forgiven her baby sister for drooling over Pierre. It would be hard to blame any woman, especially one with a malfunctioning husband, for being enraptured by the masculine treat that was Pierre Cédaire.

  “Neither do I, believe me!” Crystal rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “But what about how you’ve always said you’ve got him wrapped around your finger? It certainly seems to be true,” Belinda pointed out. “There’s nothing you lack for.”

  “There’s nothing material I lack for, no! Yeah, so he tries extra hard to please me with our big house and fancy gifts and servants. But it’s not what I want. I want that slamming headboard…” Crystal trailed off with a feminine growl.

  Belinda held up her hand in a clear motion of ‘stop.’ “Say no more. I understand. So would you consider leaving him?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I never went to college. But there are things I could do. Hey, you know what?” Crystal asked, her face suddenly brightening.

  “What?” Belinda looked at her warily.

  “I could work in your chocolate shop! You need an assistant, right? I don’t have to leave Jean-Jacques right now. Maybe getting out of the house a few days a week will help,” Crystal suggested, already disconcerted by the notion of abandoning her beautiful property and high social status.

  Belinda cringed, remembering the marshmallow disaster birthday cake Crystal had baked. Her sister did not share her culinary gift, that was for sure. What could Crystal possibly do in the chocolate shop other than ruin recipes?

  Reading her sister’s mind, Crystal burst out, “I’ll be your cashier! I’ll ring up all your orders, wrap all the gift boxes, order new inventory…you know, all the non-baking stuff,” she said sheepishly.

  “You know what? That would actually be a tremendous help! Of course I’ll pay you…”

  “I don’t need the money, Belinda. I need a distraction. I’ll be your unpaid intern. And I won’t take no for an answer,” Crystal insisted, and Belinda did not argue.

  In reality, Belinda was exhausted from trying to wear so many hats operating her business. It would be a relief to have someone she could trust to attend to the tedious, but crucial, details of the shop. That way, she could focus more on creating new confections and perfecting old recipes. And she might even be able to spend more time with Pierre…

  “You’re hired!” Belinda declared with a grin.

  Yes, Belinda’s Chocolate Boutique was looking sweeter and sweeter every day.

  *****

  At dusk, Belinda was standing outside her shop locking up for the night. As she turned the key and tested the doorknob, a vice-like pair of arms grabbed her from behind. Gasping, Belinda felt warm breath fanning her cheek and possessive arms encircling her waist. A low chuckle echoed in her ear as she relaxed and exhaled with relief.

  “Pierre!” She scolded. “What are you doing coming up behind me like that? You scared me!”

  “Yes, but you’re so sexy when you’re surprised. I’m sorry,” he said lightly.

  “No you’re not!”

  “No, I’m not. Are you?” He challenged huskily.

  “Not at all. I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon after last night.” Belinda twirled around to face Pierre and greet him appropriately with an open-mouthed kiss.

  “It might sound cliché, but I couldn’t stay away,” Pierre whispered against her lips. “And I want to finish what we started on your counter the other night.”

  “I think we did finish it in your bed!” Belinda laughed.

  “Yes, but I want to finish it on the counter,” Pierre said wickedly.

  “Oh, Pierre Say Dare, are you asking me to reopen my shop just for you?” Belinda purred.

  “Is it too much to ask?” He feigned a boyish pout.

  “For you, it’s just enough to ask,” she grinned, already turning the key in the lock.

  Chapter Nine

  Playfully, he pushed her through the door, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he led them to the counter where their first passionate romp had been born. With newfound confidence, Belinda jumped up onto the counter, parting her legs in a less than subtle invitation. Pierre instantly accepted her invitation, straddling her even as they were both fully clothed. Without touching her with his hands, Pierre moved his lips over hers, feeling her breasts crush the muscles of his chest and inhaling the sweet mix of her floral-scented hair and the decadent chocolate that was all around them. She was invading every one of his senses, but he craved more, and his hands couldn’t stay still for long.

  Soon, he was ripping off her tee-shirt and finding her breasts, round and hard-peaked, inside a delicate lace bra. She arched upward with abandon, not feeling a modicum of pain when her head banged against the hard countertop. She was only partially nude, but fully embroiled in the moment with Pierre Say Dare. He could dare her to do anything right now, and she would. She was his sweet, sweet prisoner, and she loved it. All these years, this is what she had been needing. It was so simple.

  Letting her mind go blank, Belinda grazed her teeth against Pierre’s salty shoulder, trailing an exploring hand down his iron chest and moaning as he worked uncommon magic on her breasts. Spontaneously, he reached for a bottle of vanilla extract and liberally poured some over her bare breasts. Dipping his head to taste, he licked each bud lazily, going crazy over the taste of her flesh mingled with t
he vanilla. This tantalizing foray of her body was too much for Belinda to handle. Urgently, she tugged at the zipper of his pants, wanting to feel the satisfaction of having his masterful rod inside her. Impatiently, she tore down the zipper and pushed the jeans down his narrow hips.

  Shedding the remainder of their clothes at lightning speed, Pierre pressed his naked skin full-length against hers. They both groaned at the exquisite sensation of burning skin on skin. She shoved her hands into his wavy black hair, pulling him down to her mouth for a wild kiss that shook them both to their core. Entering her with one long stroke, Pierre buried his face in her red-gold hair, mumbling something in French that she could not understand.

  He ripped her apart, body and soul, as he moved frantically inside her. Belinda tossed her hair like the sea, desirous of release but desperate to prolong their union for hours. She wanted him inside of her until she felt raw and couldn’t take anymore. She wanted him to spew out his every fantasy, all his pleasure and satisfaction deriving from their coupling.

  Moaning in a rich masculine tone, Pierre thrust faster inside of Belinda before forcing himself to slow down. He also wanted to make the experience last, wanted to stay buried inside her all night if he could. She arched her back and thrust her breasts imploringly in his face, as Pierre instantly bowed his head to one and took another lingering taste. Yanking on his hair and rolling her hips upward, she urged him to move faster again, and he could not resist her passion-drenched plea.

  “I want this to last,” he said gruffly while denying his own words and moving at her contagious speed.

  “Me too,” she gasped as his reckless motion carried them both away in a maelstrom of pleasure.

  When release poured into her nerve endings, she cried out, gazing up at the scarlet sunset before shutting her eyes and seeing nothing but Pierre’s beautiful face. Knowing that she had reached a climax, Pierre let himself go and surrendered to the sharpest erotic pinnacle of his life. He groaned with a combination of satisfaction and desolation as their bodies slowed but their hearts pounded.

  “I really want to hold you now. But this counter is not the place for that,” Pierre whispered, nuzzling against Belinda’s neck.

  “Yes, your bed was so much better for that purpose,” Belinda said dreamily.

  “But not better for every purpose,” he said naughtily, sprawling across the counter.

  She giggled softly. “We could go back to my apartment…but we’d just have the carpet and blankets.”

  “That sounds heavenly. Let’s go.”

  Yawning happily, Belinda steadied herself on two feet after her prolonged recline on the counter. She stretched with another yawn before tiredly putting her clothes back on.

  “I wish we could just walk naked to my apartment. It’s only down the street,” Belinda said half-seriously.

  “But I don’t want any other man looking at that beautiful body. I want you to be just for me,” Pierre replied with gravity.

  Snapping her bra on, Belinda gave him a quizzical look. She wasn’t sure how Frenchmen went about asking women to be exclusive, but this certainly sounded like it. She had no doubt in her mind when he went on a moment later.

  “I want us to be together. You, as my girlfriend.” Pierre cupped her face in his hands and planted a seductive butterfly kiss on her lips.

  “That’s what I want too,” she whispered, tilting her head back in an invitation for Pierre to kiss her more deeply.

  He curved his lips open before bending to kiss her profoundly, his large hands still cradling her face. All thoughts of getting dressed forgotten, Belinda felt her bra and panties slip away again as Pierre eased her back down onto the counter.

  *****

  With a plump moon shining through her second floor apartment, Belinda opened up her laptop computer. The evening with Pierre had been the most wonderful physical exhaustion she had ever experienced. When he finally left to check in at the restaurant, she had kissed him goodbye and watched at the window until his car pulled out of sight. Now that he had officially asked her to be in a relationship with him, Belinda felt incredibly relaxed.

  Settling onto a cushion to check her email, Belinda felt an odd ache in her lower back. Frowning, she wondered if she had been working too hard lately. Rubbing her lower back, she realized that the pain wasn’t in her muscles, but in her bones. In fact, her entire spinal column felt sore.

  “The counter…” Belinda murmured with a slight giggle. The double sessions of passion she and Pierre had indulged in earlier in the evening were surely the culprit. Suddenly, the ache didn’t bother her at all.

  Sighing contentedly and taking a sip of ginger tea, Belinda clicked on an email from Lenore. She smiled saucily when she read the title of Lenore’s latest poem and scanned the suggestive contents of the email:

  Bonjour Belinda! Okay, so this poem is a little racy, but I thought it would be perfect for you. When you read it, I want you to own two things: Your sensuality and your curves. Because they’re both beautiful and natural!

  Dessert

  Even grapefruits taste sweet when you gaze at him.

  Your lips, like smooth layers of raspberry mousse,

  Ripest passion fruit and coconut juice,

  Hair scented like freshly watered fields of lemon grass,

  Lips wetter and juicier than maraschino cherries,

  Tongue more pliant than marshmallow pie...

  Dessert all over your body, your eyes desire the deepest liqueur,

  Poured all over your body, licked from your belly,

  Lapped off your lilac neck.

  Bathe in a pool of rose petals, water

  infused with jasmine and slick jojoba oil,

  Tropical paradise all over your body---

  Lotions and perfumes not more luscious than you,

  They enhance what deliciousness already resides

  On your fruit-polished, sugared, floral skin.

  Delectable lover, let him inhale your dulcet air,

  Feel your pineapple breezy, soft and easy hair,

  Taste strawberry droplets, honey, cream and salt,

  Mingling, mixing sensations in one sultry brew,

  Painfully sweet and scrumptious, dessert all over you.

  Belinda lingered over the poem, hearing the baritone voice of Pierre in her mind. With his French-laced accent, the poem would sound as it was meant to: simply delicious. Feeling frisky again despite how exhausted she was, Belinda wished that Pierre were at her side to live out more fantasies. Feeling as sultry as the poem, Belinda wrote a reply to Lenore.

  Lenore, your poems just keep getting more and more amazing! This one is beyond words. I’ve just run up a fever over here after reading that! Actually, I have been embracing those natural curves lately and embracing everything in my life. Pierre and I are becoming more serious. And I know it’s so fast! But I’ve already met his son, and he’s met my sister. And the connection is just right. You always know when it is---and when it isn’t! My chocolate shop is doing great, by the way. It’s a lot of work, but worth every minute. I’m going to get some shut-eye now. Anyway, I’m still waiting for that autographed poetry book! I’ll leave you with that thought. Bonne nuit…

  *****

  The Following Afternoon…

  In a sea of jolly-faced boys and girls with tousled hair and chocolate smeared faces, the man stood out as an anomaly. As he approached the chocolate bar, several children scurried away after shooting him a wary glance. Dressed in dark clothing from head to toe, the man looked far too serious to be inside Belinda’s light-as-mousse shop.