by Kitty French
‘Oh my God,’ she murmured after she’d eaten it. It was chocolate heaven. ‘I’d forgotten how good it is.’ She went in for a second time, swirling a marshmallow until it was fully coated. ‘This is officially my favourite dessert ever.’
She closed her eyes and savoured it, and when she opened them found Abel watching her and looking quietly pleased with himself.
‘You’ve impressed yourself,’ she said.
He lifted a shoulder and grinned as he pushed his fork through a marshmallow. ‘Maybe a little bit.’
He cursed as the enamel handle on his fork snapped and dropped to the floor. He bent to pick it up and laid it on the table.
‘It is pretty old,’ Genie said ruefully. ‘Here.’ She dipped a marshmallow and held her fork out towards him. ‘You can share mine.’
He looked uncertain for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure if she expected him to take the whole fork or just the marshmallow. She wasn’t really sure herself, if she was totally honest. After a tiny pause he moved towards her and parted his lips, and she followed his lead and slid the marshmallow into his mouth. It was undeniably sexy. Not platonic at all.
She took a moment to recover her composure, sliding a chunk of pineapple into the chocolate and eating it slowly.
‘More?’ she said, hovering the fork over the plate and looking his way. He nodded, and she selected a ruby red strawberry to load up with melted chocolate. He watched her eyes as she offered the fruit to his lips, moving his head forward a fraction to take the strawberry with his teeth. Christ. She wanted his mouth to close around her nipple just like that.
Abel took the fork gently from her fingers and speared another strawberry, dipping it before sliding his chair right up close to Genie’s. His other hand rested along the back of her seat as he moved the fruit towards her lips. Genie suddenly didn’t care at all that he’d shifted the goalposts swiftly from friendship to flirtation - he had a way of making her intentions and resolutions insignificant, drifting tantalisingly out of her grasp.
She’d get them back in a minute, just as soon as she’d eaten that delicious looking fruit. Genie felt sudden kinship with Eve; the temptation really was impossible to resist.
It was especially difficult to resist when Abel chose not to slip the strawberry directly into her mouth but instead slid it along her parted lips, smearing chocolate wherever it touched. His fingertips brushed her shoulder and his thigh lay warm against hers, and he watched her mouth as he finally pushed the fruit between her slick lips. She barely tasted it as it moved down her throat, because Abel laid the fork down and slid his hand into her hair, holding her face a breath away from his.
‘You’ve got a little chocolate just… here,’ he whispered, tracing the tip of his tongue along her upper lip. Genie could barely breathe.
Abel closed his eyes, making a low sound of pleasure in his throat, and Genie felt it all the way down to her groin.
‘And here,’ he said, turning his attention to her lower lip, licking, grazing his teeth against her softness. Imprisoned lightly by his hand at her jaw, Genie opened her mouth to let his tongue in, thoroughly under the spell of his barely-there hands and his unhurried kiss. It was the kind of kiss designed to draw a line in the sand and invite you to cross it; come over, come and be with me, it’s decadent and sensual and meltingly good on the other side. Come to me.
And she did, because it would have taken superwoman to resist Abel in full on seduction mode. He had a way about him, an easy confidence, an assured way of touching her that said, relax, I’m a man who knows what he’s doing and it’s going to blow your goddamn mind.
Genie slid her arms around the breadth of his shoulders, arching into him when he slid both hands into her hair and held her steady. His body angled over hers, pinning her to the chair, making her wish she was pinned beneath him on the floor, or in bed, or anywhere that involved his body over hers. And then she wasn’t pinned, because Abel suddenly lifted her from the chair to straddle him, his cock hard and straining against his jeans between her legs.
She’d dressed carefully, opting for a casual, hopefully friendly look in her most comfy denim mini and layered pink and white vest tops. Abel peeled her vests over her head and unclipped her bra in the space of time it took her to realise she was on his lap, turning her on even more with his impatience to get her naked. She knew the feeling, and reached down to drag his tee shirt off and throw it down on top of her clothes, craving the heat of his skin on hers.
He was a contrast to her in every way. Hard where she was soft, tanned where she was pale, but when it came to being hot for each other they were in complete unison. Abel held her in place with his warm, strong hands around her ribs, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses from her shoulder to the hollow at the base of her neck. Genie was untroubled by any thoughts of resisting him; he was just too delicious not to indulge in.
He seemed to think the same of her, because he reached behind her and dipped his fingers into the warm chocolate then drew them down her neck, creating lines for him to lick off. He was oh so thorough about it too, tipping her head back to expose her properly to him.
When he re-dipped his fingers, Genie watched his gaze drop to her breasts and then back up to meet hers, the vaguest hint of chocolate on his full lips from her neck.
The suspense of waiting for his touch was almost as pleasurable as his touch itself, as was the achingly sexy look in his dark eyes. They spent so much of their time crossing swords that it intensified these moments when the defences came down. He looked hungry, as if he couldn’t decide whether to smear her in chocolate or just eat her whole.
Genie dragged in a sharp breath when he reached out and drew slow circles around her nipples, concentric, getting smaller, tighter, still looking in her eyes, watching her reactions.
‘You look pretty fucking filthy,’ he said, dropping his gaze once more to her breasts in his hands.
‘So clean me up,’ she said, holding his gaze, her breath too quick in her chest.
Abel dropped his head and did as he was told, sucking her nipple into his mouth, licking, pulling, his closed eyes rendering him unreadable. She pushed her fingers into the thickness of his hair as he moved to her other breast, still holding her flesh in his hands, massaging her as he worked her slowly up and up into a frenzy.
He dragged his open mouth back up the length of her neck to her ear, sending delicious shivers down her spine.
‘If I smear chocolate over your clit, will you ask me to lick that clean too?’
Genie moved restlessly over his swollen crotch, in no doubt at all that she would. She was hot, and flustered, and needy. He’d turned her on with his mouth and his words, and her body had flicked over into that state where only one thing would satisfy it.
Sex. Or in Genie’s case, fiery, intense fucking with Abel Kingdom. There were no conscious thought patterns here; it was all about instinct and primal, animal needs.
Reaching for his jeans, she flicked the buttons open and pushed them down as far as she could, freeing his iron-hard cock into her waiting hand.
‘If I smear chocolate over your cock, will you ask me to lick that clean too?’ she managed to say, almost yelping when he slid a hand between her legs and stroked his fingertips over the scrap of silk that passed for her knickers. She might have dressed casually for their lunch, but she’d worn killer underwear all the same.
‘You can bet your fucking last breath on it, lady,’ Abel said, sweeping the silk aside and sliding his fingers between her lips.
Genie gasped, taking a moment to open her eyes and connect with him, leaning in to kiss him, the brush of open mouth against open mouth making their touches all the more intimate. She matched her speed with his; a languid, meltingly erotic build.
‘Take your jeans off,’ she whispered, helping him push them down then twisting to scoop some of the blood-warm chocolate in her fingers.
Abel watched her, and then meshed his fingers with her slippery ones, covering his own
in chocolate too.
He moaned when Genie’s fingers curled around his shaft, a low, intensely sexual rumble that pushed her closer to the edge before he’d even touched her. And then he did, warm slippery fingers smearing chocolate where chocolate had never been before. They sat for a couple of intense, breathless minutes, stroking, rubbing, fingering, discovering.
Abel held her head to his and urged his kiss as deep as he could go, his tongue restless and insistent inside her mouth.
‘I need to taste you.’ It was a statement of fact. ‘Here.’ He moved his fingers over her clitoris.
Genie pumped his shaft steadily. ‘I want you in my mouth,’ she whispered, torn between the need to give pleasure and take it. Was there even a difference, right now?
Abel’s arms moved around her, lifting her and then sinking to the floor, laying her down and dragging her skirt and underwear off at the same time. Twisting to lie the opposite way to her, he opened her legs and pulled her onto her side so he could lay his head on her inner thigh. His arm wound over her hip, he buried his face between her legs, opening her folds with his fingers, tasting her, licking her clean in the filthiest possible way, suckling on her clitoris until she whimpered the only word in her head. Abel.
In return, Genie feasted on him. His big, beautiful, chocolate smeared cock filled her mouth and then some, delicious and addictive. She slid him in deep and then moved her head back, loving his low moans of pleasure and the way his arms banded more tightly around her when she sank her mouth all the way down over him again. He massaged the cheeks of her ass, his mouth and hands everywhere until she was one hot mess of nerve endings waiting for him to give her what she was desperate for. Abel pushed her knee out, spreading her wide, exposing her as much as she could be to his eyes and his mouth.
‘Abel… please,’ she murmured, her fingers sliding over his cock.
He kissed the softness of her inner thighs, holding her folds open as he drew his head back a little to blow cooling air across her clitoris. Could you come just from fresh air? Genie thought it was highly goddamn likely as his breath whispered over her; cooling, drying, and making her throb.
‘Please what, Beauty?’ he said, his mouth a fraction from where she needed it to be, his voice less controlled than usual. ‘Please tongue my beautiful, swollen clit?’ he suggested for her, and the explicitness of his words turned her inside out. ‘You look fucking amazing.’
He kneaded her backside, his fingertips brushing up between her legs, dipping just inside her. His cock strained in her hands, and she knew that when she took him into her mouth again he’d come there and then.
Abel blew softly again, and then his mouth fastened over her, sudden and hot and wet, his tongue quick, sure and relentless over her clit as he pushed his fingers inside her. He held her against him when she squirmed in shock, and started to thrust as soon as she took the length of his cock into her mouth.
His fingers bit into her ass as she came hard against the flat of his tongue, his body tense and spilling into her mouth as his hips jerked. Genie had never known euphoric intensity like it; and now it was over, such a slow, sweet come down. Her whole body had lit up for him, and as he mouthed slow, open kisses over her sex she laid her head on his thigh and savoured the sensations still rolling through her body.
‘So hot,’ he murmured against her warmth, his words vibrating richly over her flesh. ‘So wet, Beauty, and so fucking delicious.’
Genie let him take charge, let him push her further when she’d expected him to let her come down, feeling the incredible sensations starting to tingle and build all over again. He was so meltingly good, holding her open with his massaging fingertips and loving her slowly with the erotic drag of his tongue now flat against her flesh, and then tracing intricate, barely-there patterns over her clit. He had her high, drugged on him, with the intense sensation of her second orgasm hovering on the edges of her consciousness.
It was coming, she knew it and he seemed to know too. Splaying his hands on her thighs, he opened her as wide as she could be and took her clit into his mouth, sucking it in deep. Genie’s stomach muscles contracted hard, raising her shoulders from the floor, the strength of her orgasm curling her body up towards Abel. She buried her hands in his hair; clutching at him, gasping, shuddering. Every release this man gave her seemed better than the last. How long could that go on for before she died of pleasure?
Abel slid up her body, kissing all of the skin he passed on the way back to her mouth.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said, the smallest of self-satisfied smiles on his lips as he lowered his head and kissed her lingeringly. His dark hair fell forward and brushed Genie’s face, and she swept it back with her fingers.
‘That was unexpected,’ she whispered, a little shakily.
‘You mean you don’t do this with all your friends after a lunch date?’ he said, lifting his head and looking down at her. ‘You should.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t mean for this to happen today,’ she said, conflicted.
He shrugged, unfazed. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. Women often lose control around me.’ She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her, or himself.
‘Abel, I mean it, okay? I thought it’d make things easier if we tried to be friends, not even more complicated.’ Those conscious thought patterns were beginning to return.
‘Why is it more complicated if we fuck sometimes?’ he asked. ‘I can separate business from pleasure if you can. I’m still buying your theatre.’
The simple clarity of his words came as no real surprise, and Genie wasn’t sure whether to feel impressed or offended. She hadn’t had sex with him to try to persuade him not to buy the place. She’d had sex with him because he’d turned her on so much that all common sense had left the building, but that wasn’t really good enough, was it? Was she going to melt every time he glanced her way?
‘And I’m still going to stop you getting your hands on it,’ she said, deciding to match his boldness.
‘You don’t seem so bothered about stopping me getting my hands on you,’ he said, palming her breast.
Genie stilled beneath him. ‘When you say separate business from pleasure, I’m guessing you mean you’re separating what I do for business from what we do for pleasure?’
He studied her face, frowning. ‘Just so you’re really clear, Genie, I’m fucking my neighbour here, not the stripper downstairs. What you choose to do down there is nothing to do with this.’
Genie needed to have this discussion with him when they were dressed again; it was too much to listen to him denigrate her lifestyle while he stroked her lust-hardened nipples. Wriggling out from under him, she reached for her clothes and began to drag them back on.
‘You know what, Abel?’ she said a moment later, standing up and winding her mussed up hair into a knot at the back of her neck. ‘I don’t think I can compartmentalise quite as effectively as you obviously can.’
He stood up and stepped into his jeans. ‘Why are you making such a big deal about it now?’
The fact that he sounded genuinely perplexed served only to annoy Genie more.
‘Because it is a big deal to me.’
‘I don’t see why. Upstairs you’re the girl next door. Normal clothes. Normal make-up. No fucking glitter. It’s just you and me. Downstairs you’re…’ he searched around for the right words. ‘You’re none of those things.’
He really knew how to press her buttons, both sexually and emotionally. Genie’s blood literally bubbled faster in her veins.
‘So what exactly are you saying here, Abel? I’m your upstairs angel, downstairs whore?’
Frustration was written all over his face. ‘Not exactly, no, but if the cap fits...’ He gave up on the sentence, pulling his tee shirt over his head.
She stared at him, wondering how he could make her feel so good and so bad within the space of a few minutes.
‘It doesn’t fit,’ she said, quietly. ‘It constricts me, and it hurts.’
&nbs
p; And with that, she picked up her shoes and left him there, frowning and scrubbing his hands through his hair.
Chapter Fourteen
As texts went, Deanna’s message a couple of mornings later was definitely brimming with intrigue.
‘Possible MAJOR development. Hold all calls, am coming over now and bringing a guest. DO NOT LEAVE THE BUILDING.’
Genie read it twice over, looking for clues hidden among the short sentences. Who was Deanna bringing over? Had she found them a business angel to swoop in and save the day? Desperate hope fizzed in her gut at the idea of possibly, maybe, somehow being able to hang onto her beloved theatre. In recent days she’d started to feel that it was hopeless… and now she barely dared hope that someone might be about to throw her a lifeline.
Genie would have had a hard time admitting it, but there was a second, less admirable reason now for saving the theatre. She wanted to beat Abel Kingdom. She wanted to show him that feathers and glitter and rhinestones and passion could trump muscle and hard, ruthless business.
She’d avoided him since their lunch date earlier in the week, still furious with him for being so damn pigheaded. She’d been wrong to think there was any possibility of friendship between them. She might have to live under the same roof as him for a few more weeks, but the day was coming when she’d be able to send him on his way. Hell, she’d even do his packing for him. Anything to get him out of her home and her life, he was screwing her up with his hot body and mean spirit. He blurred all sensible, straight lines. She didn’t like him one bit but he made her hot in a way no man ever had before. She didn’t share any of his beliefs and yet she wanted him to force him to share hers, or at least to open his mind to a different way of thinking. But she now knew that he was intractable.
Deanna arrived as promised, with a woman in tow. Unreasonably, Genie was disappointed: she’d kind of anticipated a guy in a suit, and in the fantasy she’d happily entertained just now in the shower, he’d had a chequebook in his hand. This woman looked like one of Deanna’s photography student friends, dressed down in jeans and sneakers with a camera slung low around her neck and her pale hair pulled back in a messy bun.
