Love In Arms_BWWM Romance

by Erica A. Davis

  *****

  She had a condition. Even though it was going to be a marriage of convenience they were going to do it right by going out on dates and actually getting to know each other. They would have a period of engagement. He would have agreed to anything so great was his relief and joy. She was going to be his wife and nothing else mattered.

  He took her to a fancy restaurant for their first date and Kimone protested that she was not used to fancy restaurants. “Get use to it,” he had told her as he picked her up at her apartment. He had told her that it was formal wear and she had dug into her closet to find something suitable. She was not one for going out much so she did not do a lot of shopping. She had finally found a black dress that was warm enough for the weather and looked good enough for evening wear. She had tried to tame her heavy unruly curls and moaned about the fact that she had yet to visit the hairdresser. With a sigh she twisted the hair into a somewhat neat chignon at the nape of her neck and gave up trying to do something about the curls that insisted on springing to her forehead and on her cheeks.

  Her breath caught as she saw how incredibly handsome he was in a soft gray cashmere sweater and dress pants. Her eyes widened as he ushered her into a low slung black Mercedes Benz. “What no Japanese made car?” she teased him and he flashed her a grin as he pulled away and into traffic. It was fast approaching Christmas and the houses were dazzling in their display of Christmas lights. It had rained earlier and the streets were still wet from it. She had yet to tell her mother and Dawn about him because she still did not know what to tell them.

  He took her to an Italian restaurant where the owner knew him and ushered them to a corner table with a beaming smile on his florid face. “I have business dinners here sometimes,” he told her.

  He ordered the spaghetti squash and meatballs and Kimone was all but singing praises about the taste and flavor. The ambiance inside the restaurant was one of comfort and luxury and the lights were muted while some Italian music played softly in the background.

  “What would you like to know about me?” he queried as he put down his silverware. This was commonplace for him, she realized, all this luxury and fine dining. The only fancy restaurant she had been to; had been one that was not far from where Dawn worked and her friend had insisted they treated themselves to something fancy one Friday. It had cost them a month’s salary and they had made the decision that they would not be doing that again anytime soon. This one did not even have a price beside the dishes and she hated to think what the meal cost.

  “Do you shop for your own clothes?” she asked him impishly.

  He looked at her startled, quite taken aback by her question. “Actually, no,” he told her truthfully, sipping the rich red wine their waiter had poured for them. “I hate shopping so I have someone do it for me.”

  “You have a personal shopper?” Kimone looked at him in amazement.

  “Not exactly,” he said ducking his head in embarrassment. “My secretary makes arrangements with certain stores to send over what I need. Sometimes I don’t remember that I need something until I am ready to go somewhere and realize that I have nothing suitable to wear. So I am sorry I won’t be accompanying you to stores.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Kimone waved a hand airily. “I love the feeling of going into stores and looking at all the stuff they have, not that I can afford to buy anything much but just to mingle with other shoppers gives me the thrill.”

  “When we get married you can buy out an entire store or two,” he told her casually.

  Kimone looked at him, a slight frown on her smooth brow. “I won’t be doing that.” She told him firmly.

  “I won’t have a problem with you doing so.” He told her softly, holding her gaze with his.

  The Maitre’D came just then with their dessert he had ordered specially. The Tiramisu layer cake was sinfully rich and tasted like heaven and Kimone found herself eating greedily. “This is what heaven must taste like,” she commented as she scraped the cream off the plate and put the last piece inside her mouth.

  “I am not so sure,” he muttered softly. He had watched as she used her tongue to lick the cream off her full bottom lip and he had felt the pressure down his lower regions. He was bursting for the need of her and it was driving him crazy.

  He leaned forward and used the pad of his thumb to wipe off what little cream was left on her lips and then he lifted her chin to meet his eyes, eyes that had gone liquid with desire. “I am in need,” he told her huskily. “I want to feel you so much that I cannot think straight.” He did not wait for her to respond as he lowered his head and took her lips in a deep hungry kiss. Kimone held his hand, opening her lips underneath his, her heart drumming inside her chest. His tongue met hers and took, and sought, his eyes watching hers as she closed them and surrendered to his touch. He wanted her to come home with him and he wanted to make love to her for the entire night, he was desperate for her and he did not know how to ignore it any more.

  He pulled away from her reluctantly as he heard the Maître’D approach their table, cursing beneath his breath at the intrusion. He was struggling for control as he watch her with hooded gaze, her lips red and full from his kiss. He was hard and wound tightly, like a coiled string and he wanted so much to push himself inside her. He had never felt such a force of attraction for another woman and he knew somehow he had to tell her, if not with his words, at least with his body.

  *****

  They ended up having a good time and Kimone found herself laughing as he told her an episode he had with one of his employees a few days ago. He had been caught stealing business ideas for a rival company and had told Peter that he had been stealing it for himself because he admired him and wanted to start his own company.

  “So what did you do?” Kimone had her hand under her chin, her eyes on him, fascinated.

  “I dismissed the rest of the board and had a long talk with him.” He told her with a smile, admiring the way the dim light of the restaurant shone on her beautiful coffee and cream complexion. “He was just a scared kid who was coerced into doing something that was not right. The board wanted me to hang him to dry, to make an example out of him but I set him straight and told him that if he wanted to open his own company one day, there was a right way to do it.”

  “So where is he now?”

  “He is actually my assistant.” Peter told her with an amused laugh.

  “You promoted him?” she asked in amazement.

  “How else am I going to know what he’s up to?” Peter said his brows raised. “He has potential and he was just a screwed up kid who thought he could make a quick buck and besides he has his sick mother to take care of.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” Kimone told him softly.

  “When doing business, there is no place for sweetness,” he told her wryly. “I have been told that constantly.”

  “But you are not abiding by the rules?” she asked him amusement. She really liked him; even though she had not come in contact with a lot of rich guys, he was different and she could tell.

  “I am not one for abiding by rules,” he admitted. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He took her to his office, reluctant to end the evening because he wanted to be with her.

  “This place is impressive!” she exclaimed, craning her neck to look up at the tower glass and chrome building. The lights were on in the lobby and a guard at the desk jumped to attention as soon as he saw who was entering through the revolving doors. “Mr. Makeida, I was not expecting you sir,” he said respectfully moving from his post.

  “It’s all right Bob; I am just going to go up to my office for a few minutes.” He reassured the elderly man.

  The man nodded and smiled at Kimone as they made their way towards the elevator.

  “Want to neck in the elevator?” she asked him mischievously as soon as the doors closed.

  He looked at her startled; his expression intense. Kimone felt the laughter dying on her lips as he stared at her.<
br />
  The doors opened just then and he ushered her ahead of him. His offices were on the top floor and their feet sank deep into the beige carpeting on the floor. There was a reception area that held a dozen telephones and computers and the name of the company: ‘Makeida’s Import & Export’ in big gold letters above.

  He led her towards his suite of offices and pushed open the door to his office. To her surprise she discovered it was far from being luxurious. It was a simple room and although large with a massive desk and a large chair around it. The only concession to luxury was the ultra thin desk top computer and a massive oak armoire in the corner of the room. Instead of carpeting on the floor there were beautiful handmade throw rugs on the ceramic floor.

  “I am more utilitarian when it comes to my working space,” he explained. “What was it you were saying about necking in the elevator?” he asked her softly, pulling her inside his arms.

  “You knew I was just kidding right?” she braced her arms against his chest, her heart tripping inside her breasts.

  “I am not,” he whispered softly, bending his head to align it with hers. Her hair had somehow escaped the ruthless coil she had made and was bouncing against her cheek. He moved one arm from around her waist and cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin. “Your skin is so soft.” He murmured. He reached for her lips and with a sigh of surrender she slide her arms around his neck and met his mouth with hers, opening under his.

  Peter drank hungrily from her, his skin on fire as his hand tightened against her cheek and his control slipped precariously. All night in the restaurant, even when he was talking to her about some nonsensical topic, all he wanted to do was make love to her, to taste her and hold her in his arms for the entire time. He hated that he had to pretend it was just an attraction between them; he wanted to let her know how he really felt, but he had to wait and the waiting was killing him.

  Kimone shivered as his tongue entered her mouth. She wanted more from him but she preferred to wait, even though she was not a prude she wanted to do it properly. She moved restlessly inside the circle of his arms and Peter groaned as his erection hardened even more. He needed her.

  “Kimone,” he whispered dragging his mouth away from hers. “I want you in my bed.”

  “I know,” she told him softly. “I have never done this before and I need a little time.”

  He held her away from him a little bit, astonished at her revelation. She was a virgin. He lifted her chin and stared down at her. “I will be gentle,” he promised her.

  Chapter 5

  She coached him. He had expressed his desire to attend the Christmas concert and dinner at the residential home with her and she had told him what to say to her mother. They had met several months ago.

  “Six months and three weeks.” He had interjected, causing Kimone to stare at him with a slight frown.

  “I am very good with dates,” he had hastened to assure her, silently cursing himself for the slip of tongue.

  “Okay,” she had nodded. “My mother and Dawn are going to drill you with questions as to why you were a secret. We are not going to tell them about our arrangement.”

  “Don’t worry,” he had told her with a smile. “I am going to make it look real.”

  “Right,” she had looked at him curiously for a minute before they left.

  Ever since that night at the office when he had told her he would be gentle with her; things had changed between them. There was a charged atmosphere when they were around each other as if they were waiting for the time when they would be in each other’s arms. Kimone had gone home that night and had a hard time falling asleep; thinking about how she had felt in his arms and what to expect when it happened. She knew it would; it was just a matter of when.

  They got to the home at seven thirty because the concert was starting early. She had bought an outfit for the occasion; one she had seen inside the small boutique near her store. It was a black all in one pant suit and she had put a black and gold scarf around her neck; the effect was stunning and she was glad she had made the effort when she saw the admiring look on Peter’s face. He was dressed in black pants and a green dress shirt with a black sweater vest. She was glad he was going to be her date; he was achingly handsome.

  “All the elderly women are going to fight over you tonight,” she teased him as they headed towards the building. The night was clear and cold, there was still no sign of snow even though it had been predicted that they were in for a white Christmas.

  “There is only one woman for me,” he answered softly, looking down at her, his eyes like liquid pool.

  Kimone stared up at him for a moment, lost in his eyes. It was the sound of her mother’s voice at the doorway that interrupted the moment and they went towards her.

  She had told her mother and Dawn that she was bringing someone and they had been giving her the third degree ever since.

  “Hi Mrs. Bailey, lovely to finally meet you,” Peter held out his hand as soon as they reached the doorway. Kimberly Bailey was resplendent in a rose colored silk blouse and billowing purple pants.

  “And I have not heard enough about you Peter,” she sent her daughter a telling glance and Kimone knew she was in for a long conversation. “Apart from knowing that you own practically the whole state.” She beamed at him and pulled him for a hug. “My daughter has kept you a secret for the last time. Come in to our humble abode, I am sure it is something that you have not experienced before.”

  Kimone was left to fend for herself as her mother took Peter around to make the introductions to the various outsiders and residents milling around and drinking punch. Dawn was already there with Gregory and she saw her best friend bearing down on her; a determined expression on her face. She had chosen to wear red and black with little green dots on the blouse. She saw that Gregory was standing by the fireplace and talking to Peter.

  “You are dating a billionaire and we are just meeting him?” she asked suspiciously, coming to stand right in front of Kimone.

  “Hello to you too! And how are you this fine night Kimone? Oh why thank you for asking Dawn, I am doing fine.” Kimone mocked.

  “Cut the foolishness Kimone,” the girl said impatiently, visibly upset. “I am your best friend and you kept this from me, why?”

  “Okay, fine,” Kimone sighed, linking her hand inside the girl’s even though she stiffened at the touch. “We met at the coffee shop some months ago and we were just friends, I never knew it would have gone anywhere,” she said truthfully. “You know how I am Dawn, I was not looking for a relationship, it just happened.”

  “So it’s serious?”

  “Very.”

  The music had started playing and Kimone smiled as she heard one of her favorites: ‘Chestnuts roasting on an open fire’. The concert would be staring in the next half an hour and they were told to find seats and get ready to be ‘thrilled’ her mother’s words. “We are thinking of getting engaged.”

  Dawn stopped abruptly, forcing Kimone to stop as well.

  “A few weeks ago you had no man and now you are practically engaged? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” she protested, pulling the other girl with her towards the seats laid out for them. “We want to do this and he proposed to me and I said yes.”

  “He asked you to marry him and you neither told your best friend nor your mother?” Dawn was very skeptical.

  “Because I did not want to jinx it,” she improvised. “I wanted to keep it to myself for a while.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” Dawn whispered as the men came over to them.

  Peter sat beside her and took her hand in his even though Kimone tried pulling away, he held on. Dawn kept staring at them so Kimone decided to let it go and after a while it felt natural with her hand in his.

  There were a variety of poetry and songs and several couples danced to songs of the fifties. There was a moment of hilarity as old Mrs. Bainbridge stopped half way into her poetry and started dancing a jig.

  T
he meal was well done and the Christmas tree sparkled with the different lights and various decorations. “Dawn wants to know why you have been hiding me,” Peter murmured as they sat on one of the faded sofas. The concert and dinner had finished and as much as she wanted to leave, Kimone knew her mother and Dawn would never forgive her.

  “What did you tell her?” Kimone sipped the nutmeg, savoring the taste of the creamy liquid. Her mother had made the concoction herself and she remembered years when she was a child and had watched her mother in the kitchen preparing it.

  “I told her to blame me; I wanted you all to myself before everything was announced.” Peter answered in amusement.

  “You didn’t have to do that Peter,” Kimone looked at him, noticing the lock of hair falling on his forehead. He looked good; so damn good!

  “I had to,” he objected. “She is your best friend and it’s better she is mad at me than at you and I am too charming a person for her to stay mad at me.”

  “What are we doing Peter?” she asked him, refusing to smile at his attempt at humor. “We barely know each other and we are planning to take this big step together. What if we discover we don’t really want to be together? What if you hate the way I step out of my shoes and leave them in the middle of the room? Or the way I leave my coffee cup beside the sink instead of in the sink?”

  “What if we ended up falling in love with each other?” he countered. His heart had started the pounding inside his chest as he heard her words. He could not bear the thought of her backing out, it would destroy him.

  She stared at him, lost for words.

  “What if that happened?” he continued, wanting to touch her but not daring to. He could see that her friend was watching them from across the room, probably wondering what they were talking about. “What if we discover that this is the best thing that ever happened to us? I take risks Kimone, that’s why I am such a successful business man and I am asking you to take the risk with me.”