by Lynne, Donya
“Where are you taking me?” It was hard to focus when he was seducing her so exquisitely.
He straightened and smiled. “This wouldn’t be much of a kidnapping if I told you, would it?”
She glanced around at the limousine’s luxurious interior. The leather was soft as velvet, and the silver accents gleamed without a smudge of fingerprints.
“It’s not much of a kidnapping at all, if you ask me. I’m not blindfolded. My hands aren’t bound. In fact, I feel completely safe.”
“Mmmm, you do tempt me, don’t you?” His heated gaze slid down her body then back to her face. “The blindfold and handcuffs can come later. Does that ease your mind about the seemingly gentle nature of your kidnapper?”
She nibbled her bottom lip and ran her hand across his hard abdomen as she leaned into him, eyes lowered. He could still make her feel so shy. “Something tells me my kidnapper isn’t as gentle as he lets on. I think he has a darker side. A much darker side.” Sex had grown both more intimate and more debauched since they’d gotten back together. As if now that they were a legitimate couple, he felt more comfortable showing her a more abandoned, brazen side to his sexuality while still worshipping her body like it was his own private temple.
And, God, the sex was good. All he had to do was give her The Look, and she was ready for him. Hot, wet, and ready. They could be lounging casually on the couch, watching a movie and sharing a bowl of popcorn, and out of nowhere he would glance at her, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other, eyes smoky, eyelids heavy, his head turned a fraction away from her so he was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, with a modest smirk curling his lips. Instantly, moist warmth flooded her core. Within minutes, the movie and popcorn were forgotten.
The Look worked even better when he was wearing a button-up shirt unbuttoned far enough to reveal some of the hair on his chest, as she had found out Monday night.
What an evening. It had taken her until Wednesday afternoon before she could think about what they’d done to each other without going completely weak kneed and slick between the legs.
He cupped her cheek and drew her face toward his shoulder as he dipped his nose into her hair. “Your kidnapper does have a darker side.” He spoke softly, his voice low, which heightened his proclamation and sent shivers down her spine. “But only because he loves you so much and feels safe enough to share that side of himself with you.”
She smiled to herself as he confirmed her suspicions. “I thought so.”
“You did, did you?” She heard the pleased smile in his voice.
She nodded and lifted her face so she could look into his dark, grey-green eyes. “Yes.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Rest assured, my beautiful kidnappee. There are things he hasn’t shown you yet.”
“Why not?”
His gaze fell briefly as his mouth tightened. He took a breath and met her gaze again. “Maybe he doesn’t want to scare you.”
“He won’t.”
“Maybe he wants to make sure you’re ready.”
“I am.”
He grinned, but the gesture appeared tense. “Well, maybe he just wants to save something for later.”
She got the feeling there was something he wasn’t saying, but this was Mark. There was always something he didn’t say. It was part of what made him so exciting.
“You’re evil.”
He chuckled then gazed into her eyes for several seconds before asking, “Do you know what today is?”
It was the twentieth of December. Thursday. But she knew he wasn’t interested in what any old someone off the street could simply pull off a calendar.
“We’ve been back together for one month.”
His grin widened, and a spark lit in his eyes as if he were delighted she already knew the answer. As if she could forget.
“Yes, it’s our one-month anniversary.” His arms tightened around her, and he kissed her temple. “One month. One month with you again, when a year ago, I feared I’d lost you forever.” He sighed, tipping his forehead against hers. “I’m so grateful I got this chance again. So grateful to have you back in my life. After a month together, it feels so perfect.”
“Perfect except for the fact my dad is still being an ass.”
His posture slumped slightly. “I know. I’m sorry. That’s part of the reason why I’ve planned this little getaway.” He leaned back and gestured toward the inside of the limousine.
“Trying to make me forget about my family’s crappy behavior?”
He nodded. “Now that I’m your man, it’s my job to keep you happy.”
She shook her head. “You do make me happy, but it’s not your job.”
He broke away and opened a small refrigerator beside them. “Well, I think of it as my job. After hurting you so badly two summers ago, I have a lot to make up for.”
He reached inside the fridge then pulled out a bundle of ornate chocolate rosebuds on white lollipop sticks that looked like stems. Some of the rosebuds were made of dark chocolate, some were white, and some were a combination of both. But the colors and delicately curled petals blended seamlessly, as if they were real.
“What’s this?” She’d never seen such a beautiful treat.
He shut the refrigerator door and turned toward her. “The short answer is chocolate-covered strawberries.”
There were strawberries inside all that sculpted chocolate?
“Okay, so what’s the long answer?” She took the one he held out to her as if he were handing her an actual flower. And just like a real rosebud, the texture was smooth and silky, almost fragile, curving like a woman’s hips from the bottom, narrowing in the middle like a corseted waist, and arcing outward at the top as if to accommodate a full bosom.
Pride softened his expression. “The long answer is that they are tokens of my affection, handmade with love, so I could show you how much you mean to me.”
“Wait, what?” She turned unbelieving eyes to the masterpiece in her hand, then to the eleven he was still holding. “Are you saying you made these?”
He’d made her a dozen chocolate strawberry roses? With his own hands? They were exquisite enough to be made by a professional chocolatier, not a sexy businessman who dabbled with food as a hobby.
He placed the remaining roses in a small vase secured in the console then took the one he’d given her. “My dad makes these for my mom every year on Valentine’s Day, and then again on their wedding anniversary and her birthday.” He gently tugged the berry from the stem, which he discarded, then held the treat toward her over his palm, tempting her to take a bite. “He taught me how to make them when I was a kid. And now I’m carrying on the tradition by making them for you.”
“But it’s not Valentine’s Day or my birthday.” She didn’t mention the whole wedding anniversary thing, though. She knew how Mark got when he heard the word wedding. After what had happened to him eight years ago, he couldn’t even think the word without having a mini nervous breakdown.
“But it’s our one-month anniversary, which is just as good. Take a bite.” He tilted his head toward the rosebud as he lifted it to her mouth.
She sank her teeth into the treat. Sweet strawberry juice burst over her tongue, and the thin chocolate petals melted in her mouth. The flavor was exquisite, with hints of orange, vanilla, and almond, as if he’d melted the chocolate and added flavored extracts before letting it solidify again.
Mark’s culinary abilities never ceased to amaze her. His homemade meatballs and marinara sauce were swoon worthy, and without his help, she still wouldn’t be able to make a decent truffle. And now here he was presenting her with handmade chocolate-covered strawberries that looked like actual rosebuds. If he ever decided to leave his life in the corporate world to open a restaurant, it was sure to be a hit.
“How long did it take to make these?” She swiped the last bite of rosebud from his hand and set it on her tongue so she could savor it a moment before chewing.
“That’s not what matters.” He picked up another one and plucked the bud off the stem. “What matters is that I made them for you, so that I could take pride in watching you smile as you eat them.”
“Well, you need to have a taste of what you created. These are incredible.” She took the treat from his fingers and lifted it to his mouth.
Without argument, he slowly sank his teeth into it, holding her gaze in a way that made her wish she were the strawberry sliding over his tongue.
“I love you.” She took the rest into her mouth.
“You’re easy,” he said with a slick wink.
“Easy?” She arched one eyebrow.
He nodded, brushing back her hair as he rested his head on the back of the seat, which only served to make him look even sexier as his eyelids slid halfway closed. “All it takes is a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries to win your heart.”
She took another from the vase and bit off the end before feeding him the rest. “Trust me, it takes a lot more than chocolate and strawberries, Mark. But that’s a good start.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I think we’re well on our way, don’t you?”
He licked a piece of chocolate from his lip. “What do you mean?”
She peeled a white petal from another rosebud and slid it into her mouth. “Haven’t you noticed how chocolate seems to follow us into each phase of our relationship?”
He grinned and scooped her onto his lap so she straddled his thighs. His hands rested on her hips, his fingers drumming her bottom through her jeans. “Please explain.”
His amused, playful grin, combined with the way he tilted his head to one side, made her heart skip.
She nibbled on another rosebud. “Well, for starters, when we met, you used a chocolate chunk brownie and a piece of Dove chocolate to teach me about orgasms.”
He chuckled and dropped his head against the cream-colored leather again. “That’s right. I did, didn’t I?”
“Mm-hm. Then on Thanksgiving, right after we got back together, you helped me make my first batch of perfect chocolate truffles.”
His eyelids lowered and one brow lifted slightly, putting him halfway to The Look. “Mmmm, I think my favorite part was when we let the ganache set.”
“I think that was my favorite part, too.” They’d ended up in bed having some of the most intense sex they’d had to date.
She lifted the rosebud in her hand. “And now you’re wooing me yet again with more chocolate. I’m beginning to think this is part of some chocolate conspiracy.”
His hands eased around her rump and he pulled her farther up his lap. He was hard, and all that hardness pressed against her in the most lascivious way. “I just know how much you like chocolate.”
“Uh-huh,” she said doubtfully.
He grinned, but the gesture did nothing to make him appear amused. Steam-up-the-windows sexy, though? Yeah. He definitely looked like he was one degree shy of boiling.
His gaze dropped to her mouth as she teased her lips with another strawberry.
“Have I mentioned chocolate is an aphrodisiac?” he said.
“Isn’t that just a rumor?”
“Absolutely not. It’s a bona fide fact.”
“Who says?”
He smirked, eyes narrowing. “Let me ask, are you sexually aroused right now?”
“Is this a trick question?”
One thick, dark eyebrow rose contemptuously even as his smirk evolved into a smile. “Yes or no? Are you aroused?”
She sighed, sinking more fully onto his lap. “Yes, but I think that has more to do with you than the chocolate.”
“I rest my case.”
She gasped. “What do you mean? That does not prove that chocolate is an aphrodisiac.”
“Of course it does. You’re aroused. Chocolate is an aphrodisiac. Case closed.”
Sharply drawing in her breath, she smacked his shoulder, making him cringe and laugh. “The case is not closed. Your logic is seriously flawed here, Mr. Strong. I’m aroused, yes, but not because you’re feeding me chocolate. I’m aroused because you’re the damn sexiest man I’ve ever met. You just look at me and I get turned on. And that has nothing to do with chocolate unless you melt it, pour it over my naked body, and lick it off.”
“Mmm, now there’s an idea.” His hands skimmed firmly up her back, pulling her forward. “Melted chocolate instead of wax. Nice.”
Warmth filled her cheeks, and she hid her face against his shoulder, realizing she’d gotten a little carried away.
He made an affectionate noise deep in his throat then kissed her cheek. “You do the same for me, you know.”
She lifted her head and drew away a few inches so she could look at him. “What do you mean?”
His eyes searched hers, skipping back and forth. “Just that you walk into the room, and I get excited. You look at me, and my heart stops. And sometimes when you touch me, I’m not sure I can contain myself enough not to scare you.” He took a long, deep breath, his gaze raking her body. “Because, baby, now that you’re mine, I want to claim you in every way imaginable. And when I say every way imaginable, I mean it.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words fill the empty space. “You say you’re ready for all of me, but are you really? Do you really know what you’re saying you’re ready for? Because sometimes I’m not even sure I’m ready.” His body shivered, and he quickly pulled her against him, tucking his face against her neck. “You make me want things I haven’t wanted in a long, long time, Karma.”
They’d gone from playful to profound in less than a minute. But this was how Mark was. He was a study in extremes. He could shift gears faster than a racecar driver.
For Karma, the personality fluctuations were invigorating. She felt they were part of Mark’s spiritual evolution, as if the more he vacillated from one extreme to another, the more it meant he was finding his way back to who he really was. To the man he’d been before Carol left him at the altar all those years ago.
She took comfort in the sharp turns his moods took. As long as it meant he was, indeed, finding himself, she was more than fine to endure his severe swings.
And, clearly, he was still finding himself. She wasn’t sure what he meant when he said that sometimes he wasn’t even sure he was ready, but, obviously, there were still things he hadn’t shared with her. Things that, for whatever reason, he still withheld.
“We’ll get there together,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his short, thick hair. “There’s no rush. But when you’re ready, I’m ready.”
“And that’s why you have my heart.” His lips brushed her skin as he spoke. “You don’t push.” A gentle breath escaped his mouth as his cheek rose against the bottom of her jaw, so she knew he was smiling. “You take me as I am and make me stronger without expecting me to open up too fast.” He pulled back so she could see his eyes. “Which makes me want to open up more. So, I have to wonder if it’s you and not me engaging in some kind of conspiracy. Some kind of magic that makes me addicted to you. Because . . . I am addicted.” His gaze danced over her face as if he were looking at a mystical faerie and couldn’t quite believe it.
“No conspiracy here, Mr. Kidnapper. I assure you, I’m innocent on all counts.”
Unadulterated joy broke over his face, and he leaned back in his seat again, pulling her with him. “You are most certainly not innocent, Miss Mason. If you were, I wouldn’t be so captivated by you.”
“And here I thought it was my innocence you found captivating.”
“It was . . . in the beginning. Now, though . . . ?” He brushed his palm down the side of her face. “Now I’m captivated by the way you make me feel. Just being around you makes me feel . . .” His gaze searched the air past her shoulder as if he could find the word he sought there.
Mark always presented himself so eloquently that to see him floundering for the right word was somewhat amusing. “What?” she teased. “How exactly do I make you feel?”
Their eyes met a split second before he said, “Powerful. You make me feel powerful.”
“Powerful?” That wasn’t what she’d expected.
The way his eyes narrowed and his mouth quirked thoughtfully made it clear he still wasn’t sure that was the right word, either, but he was sticking with it.
“Karma, you make me feel like there’s nothing I can’t do, as long as you’re with me.” He frowned. “I’ve never felt that before. I’ve never felt like the definition of who I am relied so heavily on another person. It’s like I’m rediscovering myself with you.” The idea seemed to baffle him. His gaze drifted, and a hint of confusion crossed his expression before he smiled it away and locked gazes with her again.
“Well, you are rediscovering yourself, aren’t you? At least, that’s the way it sounds to me.”
He nodded tightly, gaze lowered. “Yes, I am. You’re right.” He pulled her down so her head rested on his chest. His heartbeat thumped heavily against her ear.
She closed her eyes and let him hold her like that for several minutes, the two of them silent as the limousine swiftly carried them along the interstate. But she could feel him thinking. She could feel the energy of his mind racing in the air around them.
After some time had passed, Mark kissed the top of her head. When he spoke, his voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. “Yes, I’m rediscovering myself with you, Karma. And while I’m eager to capture this new version of me, I won’t lie and say it’s all good. Sometimes, I’m scared for where the journey is taking me. Sometimes, I worry how you’ll react as you learn who I really am. What I’ve done. Who I want to be.” His entire body shivered as he tightened his embrace, revealing just how vulnerable his words made him feel.
Her heart beat a little harder that he’d trusted her enough to share his fear with her. What he said next, however, made ice flow through her veins.
“But sometimes, Karma, I worry my love won’t be enough.”
Chapter 2
Very often a change of self is needed more than a change of scene.
