Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology

by Gina Kincade

  Putting his arm around her shoulders and giving her a subtle squeeze, Corey introduced himself. “I’m Corey, the husband. Jessica tells me you paint railroad scenes from around the county. And she says they are excellent. She says Luther is excited to see your work. His gallery gets a lot of weekend activity. Especially, during the local artists’ exhibit. People love supporting the locals. It’ll be a great opportunity for you.”

  And where were the pieces she wanted to show Jessica—in the trunk of her most likely totaled ’01 Nissan. “It is and I am so grateful for her recommending my work.”

  “An artist. That’s interesting. Have you been doing it long?” asked Preston. He stared at her with those striking, pastel blue eyes creating a million opposing sensations in her. She wanted to hide. She wanted to throw herself at him. She wanted to converse with him. She wanted to ignore him. She wished he’d stop staring at her. “Well, have you been doing it long?” he asked again.

  No wonder he stared at her. He asked her a question. “I dabbled in it when I was in school. I’ve taken a few classes here and there. Jessica’s class at the community center has inspired me and I’m taking it more seriously.

  “You took those classes in college too? Jessica took so many during her career as a professional student,” he joked while moving out of Jessica’s reach as she swung her arm to hit him.

  College. No, Luckee didn’t go to college. She wondered if he remembered seeing her at the party she attended with some friends a few years back. She hoped so. He would discover it sooner or later. She doubted anyone ever forgot him. The life of the party, and one of several contestants in some sort of ‘win a date’ with one of the fraternity brothers’ auction, how she wished she had more than forty dollars in her purse that night. All the rich, college girls there had money to burn, and they did. She believed his final bid came in at around five hundred dollars.

  “No, not in college. I meant junior high and high school. I won a few art competitions and designed and created sets for the drama club performances.” It sounded lamer when she said it aloud than it did living it.

  “What else do you do? Or like to do?” he continued. Why did he ask so many questions? About her? They didn’t run in the same circles. Jessica never presented herself as a well-to-do, but she had an air about her. And after seeing their home, she, Corey, or both had substantial wealth. It wasn’t ostentatious, but more than Luckee was accustomed to. She considered her family middle class. They had enough.

  She had nothing to be ashamed of. She hadn’t allowed anyone, especially a man, to manipulate her image of herself since—since the night of that event. “I work at my dad’s businesses on the other side of the lake. And I teach dance class locally to children.”

  “Preston, set the table for dinner, please,” requested Jessica. Thank goodness. She avoided his next line of questioning. She predicted they would be what kind of businesses and once he knew he would have sufficient data to label her as nothing more than a redneck, hillbilly chick that came from a long line of ‘kissing cousins.’ It hurt when she overheard him at the party voicing his relief that none of the girls from Potter County won him in the auction as he didn’t know if he could measure up to their kin. The whole ‘they keep it in the family’ jokes.

  Most people in the surrounding counties and from the city made those types of cracks. She grew up hearing them. But coming from him after she became so infatuated with him and couldn’t keep her eyes and mind off of him throughout the party, she resigned herself to the reality that anything between them could and would never be.

  ***

  So, how did they end up in a frenzied make-out session in his jeep outside of her detached apartment behind her parents’ house? She didn’t give a shit. His mouth and his hands made her forget everything else but him.

  It surpassed any dream or yearning she ever had. Engraving every single touch, his smell, the intake and release of his quickened breaths, in her memory became crucial. Never in a million years did she expect to have that opportunity, and she planned to take full advantage of it. And damn he kissed her tenderly and hungrily providing the best of both. One minute they were clawing and pawing each other with their lips and tongues aggressively exploring one another. The next he threaded his fingers in her hair cupping her head and passionately moving his mouth over hers.

  Resting his forehead on hers, he mentioned, “Should we take this inside. A little cramped in the jeep, and when I get you out of those clothes I want to be able to see and enjoy all of you.” Pressing his lips to hers, he sucked on her upper one running his tongue behind it lightly and any hesitation she might have had perished.

  Hitting the light switch inside the apartment after she finally succeeded in unlocking the door, as he made it nearly impossible encircled in his arms and his hands roaming between her thighs and his mouth on the back of her neck, she noticed her place appeared chaotic. A huge pile of laundry, clean laundry, covered the coffee table, panties included. Easels and art supplies crowded the small space.

  Lifting his head from behind her, he remarked, “These are your work? They’re great.” Walking in front of one of her recent images, he commented, “Do you go to the actual sites? I’m really impressed. Who knew railroad tracks made such appealing subjects?” He cocked his head to the side studying it.

  “There isn’t a lack of tracks in the county. I try to go out every week if weather permits.” She appreciated his compliment and interest, but she had other things on her mind, not discussing her art.

  He must have too because once her eyes caught his, their hands were all over each other, removing clothes from one another. Each area of skin they bared, their hands, and mouths explored. Guiding her back to the couch, he knelt in front of her, his face level with the skin between her breasts and stomach. He licked and kissed from one side to the other as he kneaded her ass with both hands. If he didn’t have her in both hands, she believed she would have withered onto the sofa. Her knees shook and she wobbled.

  “I have been able to think of nothing else but this since I opened the door and saw you tonight,” he stated.

  Threading her fingers through his soft hair, she replied, “You have a thing for swamp monsters?”

  “I wouldn’t object to mud wrestling with you.” Splaying his hands low on her bottom at the top of her thighs, he raised her up and positioned her sitting on the back of the couch. Having it pushed into the wall gave her support and removed any fear of falling backward. Caressing her ankles, calves, and her thighs, he widened them and she laid her head back closing her eyes.

  The very first touch, followed by his extremely hot breath to her center had her jolting with pleasure and yearning. He interchanged not only between his fingers, lips, and tongue but in the amount of pressure. One second he teased her with feathery pressure. The next he increased it. All of it sustained her in a state of bliss and aching for more.

  And she wanted more. She wanted all of him. “Put it on,” she moaned. And he did. She had asked about a condom before they came inside. Luckily, he had one in his glove compartment. And he did so without breaking the euphoria he created. She edged her impending orgasm to the max, and she needed him inside her. “Sit. Get on the couch,” she whimpered.

  He did and she straddled him before he had time to react. As ready as she, the tip went in. Clutching his shoulders, she slowly, deliberately, took more and more of him until she had all of him. Grinding into him, his head fell back and he groaned. She stalled. She couldn’t be sure about him, but if she didn’t stop, she wouldn’t make it much longer and she wasn’t anywhere near ready for it to be over.

  “Fuck, Luckee. You feel amazing.” Raising his head, he gazed at her and she required no further motivation and saw no reason to further delay. Rocking her hips, they moaned together. She continued at a steady pace. And he cupped her ass cheeks, letting her drive them to orgasm. And she took the long, scenic route.

  She swore she saw stars and almost passed out, but she mai
ntained a composed rhythm keeping them suspended in rapture. Hot, sweaty, groaning, and moaning, the entire experience felt like an ongoing orgasm.

  “Luckee, I gotta…I have to—” he begged, and she covered his mouth with hers finishing his statement.

  “Come.” And did they ever. He gripped the back of her neck with one hand and clutched her ass with the other. He panted and gasped into her mouth and lips and she actually whined into his. Never had she come so hard—and long.

  ***

  Snuggling in more, wiggling her butt into him, Preston groaned, “Again? I don’t really have any objection other than, damn girl. I’m feeling rather satisfied and slightly sore.”

  Cracking an eye open she reached for her phone. “Oh no! Up. Up. We didn’t set an alarm. Don’t you have somewhere you have to be today? Work?” Sitting up, she watched him roll to his back and put his arms behind his head propping it. He appeared comfortable, unhurried, and oh so tempting. Yes, she wanted to jump him again.

  “No. No job. I can spend the whole day with you,” he stated.

  Of course, he didn’t have a job. Why would he? He probably had a huge trust fund. His nights consisted of hangin’ until dawn and his days entailed recuperation. “Well, I do have a job…jobs, actually. So, come on and get up. I have to get ready.”

  “Don’t I even get a cup of coffee? I certainly can lay here and watch that tight li’l bod of yours as you move about getting ready.”

  Really? Did he normally spend the night and not rush out on his one-night stands? Not how she envisioned him. And she didn’t possess a great bod. She had no tits. And she barely had any hips, straight, barely a waistline. “Preston, I had a good…great time, but it’s time for you to go.”

  “Why the brush-off, Luckee? When can I see you again?” He smirked at her as if he expected there would be an ‘again.’

  “Preston, let’s just leave it as is. We both had an urge and we fulfilled it.” Locating her shorts and shirt from the night before, she put them on. “Come on. Up and at ‘em.” His face didn’t register shock, but more of disappointment. He probably had women begging for his attention. And she would be one, but she couldn’t. They would never work out. They were too opposite. She didn’t want a party boy. She enjoyed being family-oriented and a homebody. He didn’t work. She loved working. And once he recalled her from the college bash, he wouldn’t want her. She would only get hurt.

  Throwing the sheet off his naked body, he went for his clothes. She couldn’t stop staring and admiring his gorgeous bod. He turned back to her once again catching her gawking at him. “I could chauffeur you around today. To your car. I have a vehicle you can use if needed.”

  “I have rental coverage, so thanks, but no thanks.” She found his persistence annoying. If he didn’t get out of her apartment, she worried they would end up in the bed again. Or repeat their sexcapades in all the sections of the apartment they covered into the early morning hours—the couch, floor, kitchen table. Hurrying to the front door, she opened it wide for him to leave.

  “Mornin’, Lucille,” her dad called from the yard. Watering his plants in flannel pants, socks, and his flip-flops, she started to shut the door but Preston came up and stopped in the doorway preventing her from doing so.

  Leaning down, he whispered in her face, “Lucille.”

  Please, Scotty, someone beam her up. “Ha ha,” she responded. Stepping outside, she waved to her dad. “Good morning.”

  Preston followed her out. Raising his arm and waving, he said, “Good morning, Mr.—”

  Turning his bright eyes to her for assistance, she considered leaving him hanging, but thought better of it. “Aikens,” she provided in a low voice.

  Walking over the driveway and to her father with an outstretched hand, he shook her dad’s hand and completed his initial greeting. “Aikens. I’m Preston Ingram. Your petunias look spectacular. It’s always a shame when the heat gets to them.”

  Releasing the nozzle on the sprayer, her dad started up a conversation with Preston Ingram about his flowers. She couldn’t have made this up if she tried. Nicole, her best friend, would never believe her when she told her he not only spent the night, but discussed petunias with her dad. Mr. Party Boy, Ladies Man knew about growing flowers.

  “Hate to interrupt guys, but I wrecked my car last night, Dad. Has Russell left for school yet?” Strolling up behind them, neither acknowledged her until she spoke.

  “What? You didn’t call or let us know. You weren’t hurt? How bad is it?” her dad interrogated, obviously concerned. His left eyebrow twitched, a tell-tale sign.

  Circling her hands in front of her signaling him to hold-up, she specified, “I slid in the mud and hit a tree on my way to see Jessica. I’m fine. I couldn’t get the car to crank afterward and had it towed.” Slapping Preston on his shoulder, she explained, “This is Jessica’s brother and he gave me a ride home. We fell asleep watching a movie.” He snapped his attention to her, complete with a gleam in his eyes and a flashing beam of white where his lips once were. Stomping between him and her dad so she no longer fell victim to his devilishly, charming face, she blurted, “I need Russell’s truck. If he and mom are still around he can ride with her.”

  “I don’t know, Luckee. You’ll have to go and see,” her dad stated.

  “Will do. Bye, Preston.” She jogged away hoping to forget all that occurred since she drove on the swampy road the prior evening. Not all, maybe. But she should. She would allow herself to remember the sex. Yeah, that she could do. Who in their right mind would want to forget a one-night stand and the most amazing sex with the super, hot guy she lusted after since the very first moment she laid eyes on him? It just couldn’t happen again.

  Chapter Two

  “So how many times did you say he texted you over the last four days? And, he got your number from Jessica. And, he did so basically as soon as you snubbed him, and…and, let me add, left him outside with your dad,” Nicole sputtered. Lifting her arms in the air and pacing in a circle, she whined, “Why…why are you acting like this? Do you remember how long you talked about him after that party? How he was your dream guy? And now you have a chance, a real chance. And, what are the odds of fate placing you two together again, and you’re both single and unattached? And the sexual chemistry is off the charts. I think there’s some strange mojo going on.”

  The bell at the door rang indicating a potential customer entered the shop. “You’re still single too. Maybe the two of you should go out.” Even as she said it, her chest tightened. “I’ll just get hurt if I let it continue. Come on, you know as well as I do that he is a major party boy stud. I don’t need all that. And, I don’t want it.”

  Lo and behold, the sexy devil himself strutted up to the counter. “So, this is one of the businesses you work at. I like it.” He nodded his head exaggerating his approval, and again, she wished the ground opened up and sucked her into any other eternal hell besides the one she existed in. What was there to like about a bait and tackle shop? Nothing unless he planned to hit the lake with his pole in his johnboat and catch his dinner.

  Nicole swayed closer to him. “I’m Nicole, a sometimes friend to ‘Miss I forgot my manners’”

  He presented Nicole with one of his award-winning smiles. “Nice to meet you, Nicole.” He surveyed the shop. “You got the whole shebang going on here, huh? Gas for the boaters, fishing supplies, beer, premade sandwiches—” He scanned the items in the food warmer. “You make these, yourself? And an ice cream shop—”

  “It’s open only minimal hours until Memorial Day.” Great, she sounded like a complete dork. Or did she? So, he saw where she worked. No shame in that. She liked her jobs. She liked her life. It might look like a dump to a lot of people, but to the locals, and the vacationers in the prime season, they were a huge hit. They were convenient, friendly, and provided items necessary for a great time out on the lake. “Why are you here? Certainly not because you happened to be in the area.” She sounded bitchy. So much so she
not only heard but observed Nicole’s wincing.

  “You really aren’t one for mincing words. I’ve tried by text to make arrangements to see you again. But, that hasn’t proven to be successful.” Stepping to the counter, he bent forward, stretching across it and accused, “Someone is avoiding me. And, I don’t know why.”

  “Really, Luckee. Rather stupid if you ask me,” heckled Nicole. She and Nicole had been friends since pre-school. She loved her dark-haired, voluptuous, and out-spoken friend. Even on the occasions she wished Nicole had a mute button.

  “No one asked you,” Luckee barked. Consumed with instant regret, she looked to the ceiling and counted to five, in her mind. Marching from behind the counter, she took Preston’s hand in hers. The immediate connection still there, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. Dragging him along, she took him out in front of the store. “You don’t take a hint…not even a hint, I’ve said no.”

  His blonde-streaked hair, natural highlights of course, hung over his forehead almost into his eyes. He shook it off peering at her playfully yet incredibly seductive. “But, you haven’t said you aren’t interested.”

  Envisioning unbuttoning his shirt and ripping it off his shoulders revealing his lightly hairy but masculine chest, and rubbing her nose in it, he smelled so good—what did he say again? “Preston, we really don’t have anything in common. I just don’t see it going anywhere between us.” Why couldn’t he just leave with the memory and image he had of her in her apartment?

  “First off, you won’t spend any time with me to learn if we have anything in common. I know of a couple of things we managed quite well together. Second, we haven’t even been on a real date and it sounds as if you are declining a relationship, a commitment from me? Are you asking me for one? If so can we start with a date?”

  How did it go from her rejecting him to him making valid points that had her questioning herself? “Luther chose some of my pieces for the showing tomorrow night. Meet me downtown. We can have some dinner and view them. If you’d like to.” She would be there anyway.