Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology

by Gina Kincade

  The four of them stopped, looking at her from where they were, mid-lick, mid-stroke.

  “What do you want, Ms. Shan?” Mark asked, his head cocked to the side like he was truly clueless to her plight, except she could see the damned twinkle lighting his eyes.

  “I want a cock in someone. Scott fuck Missy, missionary. Mark fuck Scott’s ass. Lisa…no, Wait….” Shannon growled, the sound rattling her burning lungs.

  “Ms. Shan, why don’t you watch each of us take a woman, then—”

  “No!” she cut Mark off. “I call the shots here!”

  Chapter Seven

  She took a deep breath as she stood. “Sorry. I did not mean to be so loud,” she said in a markedly quieter voice. Then she muttered, “Maybe doing this on this holiday was a bad idea.”

  All four of them were up now, each wiping at their mouths, and she wanted to taste the sex on each of them. Getting up and walking to the couch, she went to Missy first, grabbed the woman’s hair in her hand, and brought her mouth to hers.

  Kissing Missy deeply, she could taste Lisa’s juices on her. Her tongue invaded, warring with Missy’s. As she kissed her, she unzipped her own corset, shrugging out of it so she could feel her breasts against Missy’s. Shannon’s a size fuller but still pert boobs, the nipples hard, moved against Missy’s harder, smaller globes.

  The guys were grunting, deep guttural sounds from their chests. Shannon waved Lisa toward her as she pushed Missy’s head down to her right breast. She directed Lisa toward her left one. With the women suckling her, her body shaking with need, she motioned at Scott.

  “Touch my pussy, two fingers, then three, and then four.”

  “Yes, Ms. Shan,” Scott said, crawling to the couch she was on. She faced the back, the two women at her breasts with their backs against the back of the couch for support. She spread her legs wide.

  “Scott, from the front.”

  He nodded, his hand pushing up her skirt to where she wore no panties—thank god—and his fingers abruptly taking her, filling her, two at a time. Her walls quivered and gripped him.

  “Mark. Grab the paddle. Spank Me. Ask no questions.”

  “As you wish, Ms. Shan.”

  The first hit of the paddle against her ass pushed her onto Scott’s fingers more. She groaned and Scott pushed a third finger inside her. She cried out as the paddle hit her again, harder this time, the sting of it moving through her body, setting every nerve ending on high alert.

  Again the paddle hit her, but this time he swung at her three times in a row, the heat, the sting, so much more than she’d anticipated. She gave into it, the women biting at her breasts, now, in between sucks; Scott finger-fucking her senseless. Her body trembled, and with another blow of the paddle, she came, one hand grabbing Lisa’s hair, her screams stifled only by her own fist coming to her mouth.

  She wanted to crumble onto the couch, the swift violent eruption of bliss making her muscles now lax. But she was the head of this party—their not so fearless leader, apparently—and they all had a right to release.

  Chapter Eight

  Shannon reclined on the couch, her breaths finally easing back to a more normal rhythm and her heartbeat slowing. “Now,” she started to say, but paused.

  “Shannon,” a voice whispered softly in her ear, arms coming around her body, her hot ass pressing up against solid flesh. “Baby, stop running from me. That was what tonight was all about for you, wasn’t it. Truth. These three friends of mine, well, they agreed to help me do whatever was needed to get you to a point that you would listen to me. You want something you can’t name, something you think you can’t find here tonight. Only, what you want is right here waiting. You won’t let yourself be open to what is right before you. I believe you want me. I’ve seen it in your eyes many times and you either deny it or ignore it. But I’m not willing to let you do that anymore. Everything changed for you three years ago on Valentine’s Day. Now, on this day, it can all change again.”

  She sagged against him, into his arms. Her eyes closed, her mind pretending they were the only ones in the room, in the world.

  “Answer me one question. You don’t want to see me fuck either one of these girls tonight, do you?”

  She shook her head. At the same time that damn rope inside her snapped. Like a rubber band breaking, the sting against her heart brought her out of her mounting stupor. She was suddenly very awake, very aware.

  “Then just agree on this Valentine’s Day to not have sex, but to let me carry you into your bed and make love to you for the first time. We don’t have to talk future or feelings, just let me be gentle, let me worship your body the way I have longed to, with love and tenderness.”

  “But what about Scott and Missy and Lisa?”

  “We knew why we were coming,” Scott answered her question. “To help our friend win over the woman he loves. He hoped that he’d planted enough of a seed in your mind, and that on this very emotional night for you, he could make you see when given the choice between just sex and what he’s offering. That you might just get to a point where you would be open to him. The girls were my idea. I talked him into it, thinking a bit of good-natured jealousy might push you over the edge. I think I was right. And, listen, we can finish up out here quietly ourselves, right girls? Even show ourselves out.”

  She got two nods from the ladies.

  “You are one lucky woman, Shannon, to have a man like Mark look at you the way he does,” Lisa spoke. “I dream of that. You don’t have to give him a commitment; all he wanted from you this Valentine’s Day is some real one on one time. A bit different, more intimate or more personal than what you usually share. Give him a chance. Go slow if you need to. But I know you care for him. I can see it. Let go,” Lisa pleaded with her. “Mark is the best. You know that.”

  “Okay,” she said, looking behind her, but not meeting Mark’s eyes, staring instead at his shoulders. “Take me.”

  “Thanks, guys,” Mark whispered, a catch to his voice as he scooped Shannon up in his arms.

  Chapter Nine

  As he carried her into her bedroom, she glanced back at the three excited, grinning faces of the naked people in her living room. Then Mark closed her bedroom door and laid her gently down on the bed.

  Kissing her in a way he never really had before—gently, passionately, on the temple, a light but full swipe of his lips over hers—he said, “Just let me love you tonight. Say nothing in return, just let me. No outfits, no role playing, just us, slowly, gently. Like a couple in love.”

  She nodded, and he stripped her of her leather, heels, and hose. Never had she felt so naked. He climbed over her, his hips settling between her thighs. Mark was so hard and she so wet that his cock slipped right between her folds and inside her. Her inner walls opening around him as he slowly inched his way in felt glorious, making her shake to her core, her heart skipping a beat.

  “With all our play you’ve always taken me so fast before.”

  “Yes,” he sighed, moved in a little deeper. “And now?”

  He was all the way in now. The connection so full that the line in the Pink song from earlier came back to haunt her.

  “Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?”

  “What?”

  “It was a line in a song I heard earlier. I get it now.”

  He boosted his upper body up onto his arms, wiped the single tear that had escaped her eye away with the pad of his finger.

  “Shannon, I love you.”

  His lips came down over hers before she could say anything back or even decide on her reply. But as he began to move inside her again, she knew she loved him, too.

  Inadvertently, Mark had changed the entire way she viewed Valentine's Day.

  Other Books By Abby Hayes

  Costumes and Dungeons: A Halloween Tale of Vampire Romance

  Dream Job?

  The Girl Next Door

  The Fights Of Summer

  Finding Paradise

  Six D
egrees of Passion

  About The Author

  By day, Abby is what the world tells her to be, but by night, alone with her imagination, she is who she wants to be. Giving into the breathy voices that paint new and exciting sexual scenarios inside of her head, she pounds away at her keyboard. Is writing in bed naked wrong? She doesn’t think so. Abby’s only goal is to have her readers free their own minds, grab their ereaders, and go away with her into a world where no one judges what the body wants, instead they explore what the flesh is capable of.

  Key To My Heart

  Nikki Sparxx

  4 Flames

  Skip To Next Story

  Copyright © Nikki Sparxx, December 29, 2019.

  Edited by Jenny Sims at Editing4Indies

  About Key To My Heart

  When Charlotte goes speed dating with her best friend, Kelsey, for moral support, she doesn’t expect to meet the man of her dreams, Logan, especially after just breaking up with her cheating ex. But will Logan be able to to win the key to Charlotte’s heart, or will she keep it locked away?

  Chapter One

  I sped back to my apartment, hoping the unexpected detour wouldn't make me miss my event. I was catering and hosting a bridal shower, but I'd forgotten some of the decorations, so I had to go back home to pick them up.

  I owned my own catering company, Decadence, and my specialty was weddings since I also did cakes and desserts. I'd built up a reputation over the past five years since moving from Alabama to Chicago and had become a prominent vendor in the event planning community.

  What set me apart from others was my elevated take on authentic Southern food. No other caterer served the same cuisine as I did, and many clients wanted unique cuisine for their events.

  I quickly parked and raced up to my apartment. I checked the clock on my phone as I reached the door, thankful I always planned to arrive early because I had a small cushion of time before I had to be at the event venue to set up.

  Laughter on the other side of the door caught me off guard. My boyfriend, Dwayne, hadn't said anything about having company before I'd left, but I swore I heard him laughing.

  My heart started to race, and my chest tightened. Maybe he was just watching something funny on TV.

  Then I heard a woman giggle.

  I felt sick to my stomach. I thought about turning around and leaving, forgetting what I'd just heard, and acting like it never happened. I didn't want to face the fact that the man I loved might be cheating on me.

  Tears pricked my eyes. I was a strong believer that everything happened for a reason, so I was meant to come back home and discover whatever was happening behind the door in front of me. And I needed to get the decorations for the bridal shower.

  Then the moaning started. Anger replaced the sadness and ignited in my veins. Unlocking the door, I stormed into my apartment, eyes darting around until they landed on Dwayne and some redhead fucking on my kitchen counter.

  I couldn't feel anything but rage. “What the fuck are you doing, Dwayne?” I yelled.

  The pair sprang apart as Dwayne scrambled to pull his pants back up. “Charlie, what are you doing here? I thought you had an event?”

  I was so angry I could barely see straight. “So you thought you'd have a nightcap with some whore? Who the hell is this?”

  Dwayne's eyes were wide with panic as they darted from me to the half-naked tramp in my kitchen. He stammered, “I…uh, it's not what it looks like. I can explain.”

  Chortling, I grabbed the bag of decor I'd left by the door. “No, let me explain. We are over. When I get back home tonight, I expect you and all your shit to be gone. I don't want to see or speak to you ever again. Do you understand?” I seethed, my hands trembling.

  He shook his head, cautiously taking a step toward me. “Charlie, please, let's talk about this. Are you really just going to throw four years away?”

  I scoffed, already in the process of closing the door behind me. “No, you threw four years away when you decide to put your dick in someone else. Goodbye, Dwayne.”

  I slammed the door, then got the hell out of there before I threw up.

  ***

  One of the good things about being a Southern debutante was that I could fake my way through just about anything. Over two decades of pageant and performance experience had taught me how to maintain the best appearance in public no matter the circumstance.

  Including having your heart broken.

  My mom had signed me up for my first pageant when I was four years old. From that point on, I was taught to smile no matter how I felt, use the best manners, and always look my best. According to my mother, there was no place for sadness on the stage.

  So I learned to fake it till I made it. Even if my grandma had died, you would never be able to tell because I was a pro at shielding my emotions. I hated being so superficial and felt like I could never be myself.

  When I discovered my passion for cooking, I felt like I’d finally found myself. Being forced to be someone I wasn’t for most of my life made it hard to know who I really was, especially when I was younger.

  When I was in a kitchen, it didn’t matter what I looked like or if I had a smile on my face. The food didn’t care what I was wearing or if I had makeup on. I could be myself without worrying about an audience or judges watching my every move.

  What I loved most about cooking was that it was a way to release stress; it was therapeutic for me, and I was able to escape from the current drama of my life.

  I was very hands-on in all aspects of my company, from cooking and plating to client communication and event execution. Once I was done in the kitchen, I would get cleaned up and go into professional mode for the social aspect of the event.

  After the bridal shower was over and all the guests had left, my crew and I cleaned up the venue. I took my time because I wanted to make sure Dwayne was gone when I went home. I never wanted to see him again.

  Once we were finished, I decided to go to my office, just to be safe. If Dwayne wasn't finished moving his shit out, I didn't want any confrontation, plus I had a pretty comfy pull-out sofa for late nights.

  When I got to my office, I took my heels off and set up my humble abode for the night. Then, once I sat down, I cried for the first time since catching Dwayne cheating.

  Get it all out now, Charlie. This is the only time you are going to cry over that bastard. You deserve better and are better. Hold your head up high and pick yourself up off the floor.

  I let it all out, then wiped the tears from my cheeks. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and exhaled. That's it. No more.

  Covering myself with the plush blanket I kept draped over the couch, I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

  ***

  "C'mon, Charlie, please, I need you," my best friend, Kelsey, begged as we waited for our food on our lunch date.

  I shook my head with a laugh. "You don't need me. Plus, I don't want to date right now. It's only been a couple of months since I broke up with Dwayne. I'm not ready."

  "You don't have to take it seriously; just come for moral support. You know how bad my anxiety is."

  "Then don't go," I remarked, somewhat teasing her.

  She scoffed, narrowing her eyes at me. "I'm tired of being single. And all the dating apps suck. I need to try something new."

  I arched a brow. "And you thought speed dating was the perfect answer?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Yes. What guy is going to go to a speed dating event unless he's serious? Plus, I'll get to meet multiple guys on the same night. One of them has to be compatible with me, right?"

  My friend's face fell, and my resolve cracked. She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. "Please, Charlie. I need my best friend."

  I exhaled a sigh. "Fine. I'll go."

  Kelsey's face immediately lit up, and she gasped. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

  "You owe me. Big."

  "Okay, mani-pedis on me," Kelsey offered. "We can get pampered right before the speed date."
r />   My life was pretty much dominated by work. Typically, I worked twelve to fourteen hour days before going home and crashing hard from exhaustion. Some pampering was definitely needed from the stress that was my life.

  After lunch, I went back to my office. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible so I wouldn't have time to dwell on the pain and betrayal of Dwayne's cheating, but sometimes it was hard to ignore. I hated that I’d invested so much time into a man who ended up betraying me. I couldn’t even think about doing that again. But maybe the speed date would be good for me and help me get my mind off my failed relationship.

  I decided to keep a positive outlook on the situation. I was supporting my best friend, plus I hadn’t had a night out in what seemed like forever. And I could possibly get laid, which I desperately needed.

  Hey, a girl has needs, right? What’s the worst that could happen?

  ***

  Kelsey and I were getting ready for our speed date the following Friday at her place. The event was taking place at a trendy restaurant downtown that was cozy and romantic. It was perfect for what we were doing; something I would have picked for that type of event.

  I styled my shoulder-length blonde hair in beachy waves and applied some smoky eyeshadow to go with my black blazer dress.

  "I thought you weren't ready to date?" Kelsey asked as she dusted her cheeks with some blush.

  I rolled my eyes. "Doesn't mean I don't want to look presentable. I have to make it look like I'm interested, right?"

  "Well, that dress screams interested. Or maybe take me home and fuck me on your desk."

  I laughed. "A little sex never hurt anyone. Plus, you should talk—your dress is more like take me right here, right now."