Chocolate Kisses

by Francis Ray

  “Anything,” he replied immediately.

  “I’m selling my house.” She’d meant to talk to him about this before, but the timing had never felt right. “I’m not content living downtown anymore. I want something bigger. A place where I can have an office, someday room for kids. I’m ready for something more permanent, long-lasting—secure.”

  “I know what you mean. So what can I do to help?”

  Don’t go! she wanted to scream. Stay here! Be with me! Gulping, Nicole turned her head away, refusing to let him see the arrival of tears. He had to pursue his dreams, just as she had to. She had an established law practice, but she could easily relocate, if only he’d ask. There were women all across the country who could use her help. Sacramento or Atlanta didn’t matter to her.

  Drawing a breath to steady her tone, she looked back at him. Her voice quavered slightly before she corrected it. “I have a list of homes for sale in this area. Maybe you could come with me to look at a few today?”

  He flashed her that sexy-as-hell half grin of his, the one that made his dimple prominent, then finished it up with a wink. “I’d love to. But do you think we could eat first? I’m starved.”

  When Nicole nodded, Marcus turned the truck onto the road leading to Folsom Lake. Within a few moments they neared a private beach. In a patch of sunshine stood a picnic table, covered in white linen cloth.

  Giggling, Nicole leaped from the truck as soon as it rolled to a stop, and skipped toward the table. “Oh, Marcus, what have you done?”

  “I wanted you to know I missed you,” he replied with a sheepish grin.

  Nicole banded her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his full lips. “You couldn’t have planned all of this, this morning.” Her gaze dropped to the table, where fluted glasses lingered alongside strawberry baskets and fresh red roses.

  Marcus chuckled. “Nope, not this morning. I always miss you when you’re not around.”

  Marcus heard the hitch in her breathing. Stepping from her embrace, he moved them toward the table. Once she was seated, he served her the ham-and-cheese omelets from the white carry-out boxes, still warm from when Chuck left them. He mixed the champagne with orange juice, then settled beside Nicole.

  They laughed and talked as they ate, feeding each other, kissing between bites. The sun was overhead by the time they finished eating breakfast, and Marcus was completely enlightened. He was head over heels in love with this woman. I’m supposed to move and leave her behind? She’s going on without me, fool, he berated himself, thinking of the bigger house she wanted to buy and the husband who wouldn’t be him.

  He cleared his throat as he repacked the box of supplies, cleverly hidden under the table. “So how about looking at some houses? You have the list handy?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she answered, fishing in her purse for the papers.

  “Choose one and we’ll call the agent and see if we can get a look inside.”

  “Do you think we can?” she asked, her milk-chocolate eyes warming.

  “Probably. Which one do you want to see?” He waited until she’d touched her fingernail to the paper, then pulled the cell from his pocket and punched in the agent’s number. The real estate agent readily agreed to meet them at the address.

  It took them only a few minutes to drive from the lake to the house. The agent, a middle-aged man, arrived about twenty minutes later and opened the lockbox on the front door.

  The entry was covered in Italian porcelain tiles, flanked with dark hardwood floors that ran throughout the rest of the first level. The ceilings vaulted to the second floor, and a gently curved staircase swept upward. The room was bright, floor-to-ceiling windows allowing in the brilliance of the clear spring sky.

  As they walked through the house, the agent pointed out features: marble countertops, a walk-in pantry, chef’s stove, paneled refrigerator doors that made the appliance blend in with the mahogany cabinets. There was an office—complete with DSL and cable-wired—a guest suite including full bathroom, a library, a den and family room, as well as a formal dining room.

  In all, there were 5,500 square feet, which included six bedrooms total. The click of Nicole’s sandals against the tiled floor in the master bathroom drew Marcus’s attention.

  When he reached her side she stood motionless, not looking at the bathroom but staring past the mirrored wall above the sinks to a walk-in closet damn near the size of his condo. The walls were lined with mesh organizational baskets and several tiers of hanging rods.

  “Marcus, I love this house. I can afford it.” She gulped, but her gaze didn’t waver from the closet. “But I’m alone. This place is big,” she whispered, her hand instinctually gripping his without so much as a glance down.

  He almost laughed, and would have if she didn’t sound so down. After all her oohs and aahs over this house, the closet was what had sealed the deal in her mind. So typically womanly. So feminine. So Nicole.

  He grumbled a comment, hating to see her not have everything she wanted. No matter how sexist it sounded, to him a home reflected the woman. He liked this house, too. It suited Nicole well. But then images flashed in his mind of her raising children and playing wife to another man. Pain seized his heart. And where will I be? Moved on with my life, he realized sadly.

  “You want to keep looking? I’m sure there’s something smaller on your list.”

  She shook her head no, her gaze still intent on the huge closet. “I’m alone,” she repeated. “I think I was wrong. I don’t need a bigger house. Not now anyway. I’ve changed my mind.”

  Shrugging, Marcus huffed. What just happened here? Why did Nicole suddenly look so sad despite the fact she’d damn near glowed while looking at the rest of the house? He searched the gigantic, bare closet for an answer, but found only an empty space. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he said, “Come on; we should get going.”

  Nicole reluctantly turned away, then fell into step beside him as they retraced their way out of the house. They met the agent outside.

  They shook hands. “We’ll be in touch,” Marcus said, opening the door for Nicole to get in. A few minutes later he was seated beside her, and they were driving away from the house she’d obviously adored.

  Marcus headed back toward downtown Sacramento, the freeway starting to fill with late-afternoon traffic.

  “Do you want to stop by and pick up a few movies before we get back to my house?” Nicole asked softly when they got off the freeway.

  “I know it’s Saturday night, Nic, but I haven’t been home since Thursday and have a few things I need to take care of. I’d come see you tomorrow, but I’m playing golf with the fellas.”

  “Oh, okay.” The disappointment in her tone tore at his heart.

  “Nic, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He gave her a quick kiss, then was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  NICOLE KNEW she had to put some distance between Marcus and herself, especially after the crazed incident where she’d just about had a panic attack staring at an empty closet. It was the emptiness that had gotten to her. She loved everything about the house, except that it came without the most important thing: Marcus.

  He’d be long gone by the time she went to her closing. Better to suffer his loss in her old home, where they had good memories. She didn’t want the big house to remind her what she’d forfeited when Marcus moved to Atlanta.

  She needed a distraction from the melancholy thoughts of her best friend and short-term lover. Taking a sip of her peach margarita, Nicole was relieved by the muddled fog of tequila and grateful to be out with Natalie.

  Spinning the barstool, she scanned the crowd for her sister. She found Natalie on the dance floor, shaking her hips, bumping and grinding with a decent-looking guy in his midtwenties. What am I doing here? Nicole asked herself. This place is a meat market. I’m too old for this shit.

  The heated wash of alcohol seeped into her blood, warming her bare legs and tamping down the miserable self-pity. The sensual, s
oulful rhythm of the music vibrated off the walls and bounced back at her. The throb of the crowd created a dizzying effect that had them swaying and pulsing in time with the bass blaring from the five-foot speakers.

  Nicole slid from her barstool, then made her way through the throngs of gyrating couples, past the bumping and grinding, to where her sister grooved on the dance floor.

  “Nat, I’m going out to get some air.”

  Natalie paused in her dancing, putting her hand on her partner’s shoulder to slow his slick moves that a slightly younger crowd considered dancing. “You all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Go back to your dancing.” Nicole turned, intent on finding the closest exit, but a firm hand on her upper arm halted her progress.

  “Don’t leave, gorgeous. Dance with me.” Nicole was yanked into the arms of a stranger. Good-looking though he might be, he was no Marcus. Damn.

  Placing her palms against his chest, she eased away, putting a good distance between them. “Not right now; I need some air,” she shouted back, to be heard over the volume of the sensual song pounding through the room. She bit her lip, realizing that was the wrong thing to say to a brother who’d zeroed in on hitting on her.

  “Some air? You shouldn’t go outside alone. Don’t you know it’s not safe?” He smirked. “I’ll go with you.” His hand was back on her upper arm. His fingers caressed her skin through the thin material of her silk blouse.

  Nicole fought the urge to roll her eyes. It was so typical of a man to want to follow her out into the dark and hope to have his way with her. It wasn’t going to happen, not tonight—not with her.

  “Let’s dance,” she returned, starting to sway her hips in beat with the bass and the soft hum of male voices harmonizing. She’d give him the rest of the song, then make her escape—alone. She glanced at her sister getting a bit freaky with the guy she’d been dancing with. Natalie didn’t look like she’d be ready to go for a while.

  For the rest of the song, Nicole avoided the man by dodging his groping hands like they were lobster claws. His not-so-subtle winks and thrusts of his hips gave her the creeps.

  It was hard to imagine how fun this had been a few years back. Now, despite the soothing affects of two shots of tequila and two peach margaritas, she wanted nothing but the quiet of home, the warmth of a bubble bath, and the passion she felt in Marcus’s arms.

  “Thanks for the dance,” she said, easing away and slipping between two bodies before he could stop her. She made her way to the perimeter of the room, deciding that outside might not be the safest place, particularly if she might run into more fools with over-practiced pickup lines.

  Feeling the light-headed effects of her drinks, she closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side. The sensual, passionate call of the music guided her in a gentle movement that tilted her hips and rocked them back and forth. She could see the words, a picture behind closed lids, a fantasy of lovemaking. Silken white-sand beaches, cool ocean breezes, the sun melting her in the arms of a lover.

  She felt the body behind her too late. Strong arms folded around her shoulders. Nicole started, engulfed by a powerfully possessive grasp, and was pulled up against a chest as firm as the wall had been. But the quickening of her heart, the strangled breath of fear, quickly changed to excitement, for her body recognized the masculine frame wrapped around her. Heat churned in her belly, her nipples hardening to peaks.

  Marcus.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered against the slope of her neck.

  Heat sped down her arms to the tips of her toes and rushed to her core, making her wet with desire. The liquor hummed in her system, the light buzz magnifying her emotions. Leaning back in his embrace she could feel his long shaft, hard against her bottom. A giggle burst from her lips.

  “Marcus, what are you doing here?” she asked, leaning her head back onto his shoulder so she could see the profile of his handsome face.

  He took advantage of her exposed neck and nibbled on her skin, spread a dusting of kisses that felt like the flutter of hummingbird wings against the base of her throat. His tongue brushed against her pulse point before he answered.

  “You mentioned where you and Natalie were going last weekend. I had to decide between a pickup game at the gym or coming here. Luckily, I chose right.” His long fingers fanned out over her lower belly and dragged her even closer against him. She went willingly deeper into the security of his embrace.

  “Luckily?” she asked.

  “Mm-hmm . . .” he mumbled, kissing a path from the hollow of her throat, his tongue gliding over her skin until he reached her ear. Drawing the soft, fleshy part of her earlobe into his mouth, he bit down, then swirled his tongue against her sensitive flesh.

  The rumbling of his voice when he spoke against her sent a quiver down her spine to join the rising desire that dampened her panties and made her knees weak.

  “Luckily, because I missed our movie night. Two whole weeks without . . . Damn, girl, I needed to see you.”

  Needed? Needed was not the word she would have liked him to use. How about wanted? Yeah, wanted to see her would have been nice, but flush against his rock-solid body, his arousal pressing into the small of her back, and his strong arms wrapped around her, she’d take whatever she could get, weak though that might be.

  Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” began to play.

  “Come on. Let’s dance,” Marcus said, stepping away from her, then grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowd of couples to the center of the dance floor. He spun her, bringing her firmly against his chest, his large, possessive hands settling on her hips.

  With his strong pecs rubbing against her breasts, the lace of her bra felt wickedly erotic upon her skin. I’d like to have his tongue there instead. His erection pressed to the apex of her thighs and brushed against the patch of hair protecting her clit. Shafts of pleasure tore through her body, causing Nicole to melt into his embrace.

  “Let’s get it on,” Marcus whispered into her ear, as he swayed their bodies like blades of grass in the wind.

  She balled her fist and jabbed him in the side. “We’re in the club.”

  “So.” He claimed her mouth, his kiss thorough, hot, and demanding, laden with repressed need. They stopped dancing, yet stood locked within each other’s tender embrace, feasting upon passion.

  She could taste the beer on his breath—Corona with lime—and smell the subtle hint of his cologne. She couldn’t stop kissing him. She didn’t want to, yet she knew damn well that the effects of the alcohol she’d consumed loosened her inhibitions. She shouldn’t be kissing him so wildly standing in the middle of a bar. It wasn’t like her.

  But just as she was about to protest, he slowed the kiss. His lush lips moved away from her mouth to kiss the skin below her ear. She giggled when he starting humming along with the words of the song.

  “Marcus, stop.” Damn, she knew her tone hardly sounded convincing. She wasn’t convinced. Her body screamed for him to go on.

  “Why?” he asked, pressing kisses to her skin between the words of the melody.

  “We’re supposed to be on the down-low,” she responded, rolling her head to the side to allow him better access to her neck. Yeah, that’s convincing. She trembled when one of his hands slid between their bodies and cupped her breast. His thumb stroked across her hardened nipple.

  “Down-low, huh?” He licked her skin. “I don’t remember that being part of the arrangement.”

  “My sister’s here.” Nicole hated the breathy way her voice sounded, but couldn’t deny how he was making her feel. As though she’d had more than just the two shots of tequila—like sipping fine wine.

  “Natalie looks busy to me,” he replied, slanting his head in the direction of Nicole’s sister, slow-dancing with the same guy as before.

  “She’s drunk. I should get her home before she does something she’ll regret,” Nicole said, turning her head so her cheek rested above his heart. She took comfort in the ste
adiness of his pulse.

  “Yeah, we should get her home. I’ll drive you two.”

  “I brought my car.”

  “Then we’ll pick it up in the morning.”

  “I guess you’re right. I drank more and faster than I’d planned.”

  Marcus smoothed a palm down her back, then slowly retraced his path to her shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Nicole nodded, leaning away from Marcus as she reached through the crowd to tap her sister’s back, hollering to be heard above the din. “Nat, it’s time to go.”

  Natalie stepped away from her partner. “Hey, Marcus, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I just arrived. How’ve you been, Natalie?”

  Heat spread over her cheeks as Nicole met her sister’s questioning gaze. Natalie’s eyes swept over Marcus’s arms, possessively wrapped around Nicole’s waist.

  Natalie grinned knowingly, then turned back to Marcus. “I’m good. How about you?”

  “Can’t complain. You ready?”

  “Just let me say good-bye. Oh, Byron, this is my sister, Nicole, and Marcus.”

  Byron grinned while shaking Marcus’s hand. “Hey, you’re Marcus Patton. You used to play for the Raiders, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s me. Come on, ladies; let’s go.”

  Marcus nodded at Byron. With his hand on her back, he guided Nicole toward the exit door. Natalie quickly jotted her number for Byron, then followed them out.

  The night air was crisp compared to the sultry club. A sprinkling of stars twinkled against the velvet backdrop of night above the city lights. Never having released her hand, Marcus still held her fingers intertwined with his as they made their way through the parking lot to his truck. Nicole could feel her sister’s stare sizzling on her back, but his warmth was soothing despite the fact that she’d play Twenty Questions next time her sister got her alone.

  Marcus unlocked the passenger-side door and held it open while Nicole slipped in and scooted to the middle. Natalie got in beside her before he shut the door and rounded the truck, getting into the driver’s seat. He got on the freeway and headed east up 50 to Cameron Park, where their parents lived, and where Natalie was staying for the weekend.