****
Damon
I opened the door before she was even able to knock. The driver that I had pick her up from her apartment and bring her to my place had specific instructions to walk her up to my door. He texted me on the way to let me know they’d arrived.
“Good evening.”
I laughed. She was so damn formal sometimes.
“Hey, little one,” I murmured as I leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. I inhaled that cotton candy smell of hers and my arm instantly went out, wrapping around her waist, pulling her into me.
“Thanks, Mike,” I said over her shoulder to the driver. I passed him the cash I held in my pocket for his tip and he nodded and sauntered off.
Stepping back, I let Sandra pass through the door, shutting it behind her. I bit my bottom lip watching the black, ruffle dress she wore swaying side to side, lightly slapping the backs of her thighs. The heels she wore looked to be damn near six inches high, which showcased the toned nature of her legs.
Fuck milk. Apparently, Pilates did a body good, if her body was any indication.
“Mr. Richmond, did you want to begin now?”
I swallowed. Shit. I’d forgotten to do the damn introductions.
“Hey, Jeffrey Samuels, this is my date, Sandra. Sandra this is—”
“Master Chef Jeffrey Samuels. I know exactly who you are. I’ve seen you on the Food Network.”
Samuels’ eyes narrowed as he smiled wide.
I frowned and moved in close, wrapping my arm around Sandra and pulling her into my side as she and Samuels shook hands.
“Did I say date? I meant woman, as in my woman, taken,” I corrected as I pulled her hand from his, eyeing him.
Samuels stood upright, giving me a smirk as if he understood my meaning. He was one of the most popular home chefs in the city of Williamsport. I had to pay a lot of damn money to have him available for the night. But I’ll be damned if he tried to undercut me and put the moves on my woman right in front of me.
I lowered my gaze to Sandra to see a surprised expression on her face. Instead of answering her unasked question I leaned down and placed a kiss to those plump lips.
“You can set up while I show Sandra around,” I told Samuels.
“Here, I didn’t want to come over empty-handed. You said red is your favorite, right?” Sandra handed me an Italian Chianti wine. I wasn’t familiar with the particular brand. “It’s supposed to pair well with Italian dishes.”
I nodded. “Thank you. We’ll have to try it the next time you come over. Samuels is preparing a roast duck with potatoes cooked in the duck fat and a Brussels sprout salad.”
“I thought we were going to be cooking.”
I nodded. “We’ll help with the salad, but the duck and everything else is all him. Takes too long.”
She smirked. “You don’t cook, do you?”
I lifted my brows. “Hell no.”
She laughed.
Grabbing the hand that had gone up to cover her mouth, I held it in my own. For one, I was about to take her on a tour of my place, but also, because I disliked the way she sometimes used her hands to hide behind. When she laughed I wanted to see her entire face.
“Let me show you around.” I pulled her away from the kitchen area. “This is obviously the living room.” I held out my free hand and her eyes swept over the tan velvet couch, the oddly shaped copper coffee table, and the wooden chairs that sat across from the couch. The paintings on the wall behind the couch didn’t hold any significant meaning but they added some color and dimension to the room.
“No TV?”
“Not in the living room. I’m not a big fan of television. I keep one in the den area which is down the hall. This, over here, is where we’ll be eating dinner once it’s ready.”
“Oh wow. Look at that view,” she stated as she lifted her gaze from the black wooden table and chairs out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
“That’s exactly why I chose this place.” I could’ve chosen to build my own home but I didn’t want that. My company managed and had part ownership in this building for five years, and I’d owned my condo for almost four years and this view was the deciding factor.
“Do you get to enjoy the view often?”
It was a question I hadn’t thought about in a long time. And since I knew Sandra was nothing if not genuine, I gave an honest answer. “Not as much as I’d like to. Maybe that’ll change.” And because she was there and it felt so damned good having her in my home, I leaned down and kissed her. It was quick but it was enough to tide me over until later.
I showed her the rest of my condo, including the two guest bedrooms, my bedroom, and my den which I sometimes used for working, on days I didn’t feel like going into my actual office.
“You must’ve had help decorating,” she stated as we made our way back to the kitchen.
I pulled out one of the wooden stools for her to sit at the bar that overlooked the kitchen.
I lifted my hand to my chest, affronted. “You don’t think I’m capable of decorating my own home by myself?”
“Not at all.” Her answer was quick and I found myself frowning over my shoulder at Samuels as he laughed with his back turned to us, stirring something at the stove.
“I’m offended.”
Sandra giggled. “No you’re not.”
I chuckled. “Nah, I’m not. And yes, I did have an interior decorator design this space for me. Then I hired him to work for my company.”
“A win-win.”
“I’d say so.”
“Do you prefer a red or white wine?” I questioned as I pulled out two wine glasses from my cupboards.
“Um, white.”
I nodded, silently noting the hesitance in Sandra’s voice.
She visibly relaxed when I pulled out a bottle opener.
“That’s a new bottle?” she questioned, staring at the wine bottle in my hands. I’d just retrieved it from the holder where I kept a couple of bottles, most of which were unopened.
“Yeah,” I answered cautiously, trying to remember if she’d ever said she didn’t drink. Then I distinctly remembered her having a glass of white wine the other night we went out to dinner. She’d also brought a new bottle of wine over so I figured she wasn’t opposed to drinking with dinner.
“Okay.” She nodded, eyes still on the bottle as I poured the glasses.
Samuels came over to the counter and asked, “You two ready to start cooking?”
“Yes,” Sandra responded, standing from the stool.
“First you both need to wash your hands.”
Frowning at Samuels, I shook my head. “Nobody was planning on touching food with dirty hands.”
He shrugged, chuckling. “Hey, I’ve worked in a lot of kitchens. You’d be surprised how many people skip that first, important step.”
“See, that’s why you can’t eat at everybody’s house.”
Sandra giggled at my comment.
“Nasty ass people.”
She nudged my side with her elbow, laughing.
We washed our hands and dried them before Samuels handed us a bowl of rinsed Brussels sprouts, walnuts, and dried cranberries for chopping. Sandra began slicing the Brussels sprouts. Her hands were half the size of mine but she wielded the knife with damn near the same expertise as Samuels. I admired the shiny lavender polish on her nails.
“How’s the chopping of the walnuts coming, Damon?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I gave Samuels a deep frown. “Fine.”
I looked back at Sandra who was now staring at me. Her eyes dropped to the bamboo cutting board in front of me where the nuts remained untouched.
“I’ll cut those.” She reached for the cutting board, moving it in front of her and sliding the one she’d been working on out of her way.
“Why? You don’t trust me with a knife?”
“I trust you.” Her response had more to do with than just dinner.
I inched closer
, so that our bodies were touching. “Good,” I stated just before dipping my head and brushing my lips over hers. Her lips tasted like the wine she’d only taken a few sips of.
Stepping back, I licked my lips when Samuels began removing the duck from the oven.
Sandra inhaled deeply, turning to face Samuels as well. “That smells divine.”
I smirked. Who used the word divine so casually? Sandra did. The way she talked made sense once she explained her background. Her grandmother being a judge, held her to a certain standard.
Over the next thirty minutes Samuel had us prepare a gravy to go over the duck and potatoes, a homemade vinaigrette for the salad that was tossed together in a large wooden salad bowl, as well as preparing the two individual chocolate lava cakes that would be served with ice cream for dessert. By seven o’clock I was finished setting up the dining table and was practically pushing Samuels out of the door. I was ready to have his ass out of my space so I could be alone with the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Everything looks great. I hardly want to eat it. He made our plates so beautifully.” Sandra grinned as she looked over the two plates Samuels had made for us. He’d garnished them with some shit that made it look pretty. And though I didn’t give too much of a damn for presentation when it came to food, I did enjoy how much Sandra seemed to enjoy the aesthetics of it all. She had an eye for pretty things.
Coming up behind her, I rubbed my hands up and down her arms, leaning down close to her ear. “I don’t know about you but I’m about to eat. I did not have that man all up in my place just to stare at this food.”
I chuckled when she turned, swatting my way. Grabbing her hands, I pulled her to me, taking her lips because I felt like it. And just like every other time, she easily acquiesced to my hold. Her lips molding to mine. Her hands went up, tugging at my beard, not hurting but in an exploring way. She liked doing that while we kissed, I’d noticed.
When I pulled back, I paused and waited for her eyelids to flutter open. Those maple syrup saucers shone with a need so deep, I was ready to go back on what I’d just said, swipe all that shit off the table, and lay her on it so that I could feast until I was content. Then the thought occurred to me that I might never be content when it came to Sandra. And we hadn’t even had sex yet.
“You need to eat,” I ordered, moving around her to pull her chair out for her to sit. My voice was husky.
She smiled up at me as I pushed her chair in once she was seated. I moved around the other side of the table, thankful for the candles I’d let Samuels set up. They definitely helped give the area a romantic feel. This was the first time I’d ever brought a woman to my place for dinner. I liked to keep my space to myself, but for Sandra, everything was different.
“Mmm,” she moaned after her first bite of the duck.
I damn near choked on the piece of duck I was chewing. “You really need to warn a man before you start making sounds like that.”
She covered her mouth with the navy cloth napkin. “I’m sorry. I know it’s rude but my goodness this is so good,” she gushed.
I eyed her across the table halfway caught between amused and turned the fuck on.
“You aren’t eating.” She paused, looking at me across the table with those big, round eyes. “You’re not hungry?”
“Hungrier than I’ve ever been in my whole life.” That may’ve been an understatement.
Her chewing slowed as my words sank in. She swallowed and took another sip of wine.
“Tell me about your day,” I insisted as I cut into my food.
I listened as she described her day at work. The case she’d been working on was picking up steam which seemed to make her happy.
“I think we’ve got a good chance of winning this one. I can feel it.” Her voice rose in excitement.
“Have you ever considered going to law school?”
She paused for a heartbeat. “I thought about it very briefly. Again, I couldn’t justify spending three years as a full-time student while I have a daughter to raise. Plus, the idea of taking out all of those student loans … You know I work with some attorneys who have six figures of student loan debt? It’s crazy.”
I snorted. “I’ve heard stories. Would you want to go back to school? If you could? If you had help?”
“What, like a scholarship?”
“Something like that.”
Her lips poked out a bit as she considered it. “I might. But I’m so far removed from school now. I’m more concerned about saving enough for Monique’s college fund.”
Placing my glass of wine back on the table, I nodded. We ate and continued to talk some more about our days, life, and everything in between.
“You want ice cream on yours?” I questioned from the kitchen. We had finished our dinner and moved on to dessert. I was removing the vanilla bean ice cream Samuels had left to place on top of the chocolate lava cakes with some caramel and fudge sauces.
“Absolutely,” Sandra responded eagerly from where she sat on a stool at the kitchen’s bar.
“Come here.”
Her eyebrows rose, questioningly.
I tilted my head, motioning for her to move closer. She rose from the stool, rounding the bar and fully entering the kitchen. I took a spoonful of the cake with the ice cream and held it up to Sandra’s mouth.
“Open.”
Her lips immediately parted, and I slid the sinful dessert in between those lips, slowly pulling it out. Dipping my head, I licked a drop of the fudge sauce that’d smeared a bit at the corner of her mouth.
Shit. The fudge tasted better eaten off of her than off of the damn cake. Slowly I inched forward, pushing her until her back hit the stove’s countertop. I dipped the spoon again and held it up for her to eat from. She complied once more, savoring each bite I fed her. When the bowl was empty I placed it in the sink and braced my hands on the countertop on either side of her body.
“You’re not having any?”
“I’m going to have my taste right now,” I responded just before lowering my head to hers and taking my fill of what it was I’d really wanted all damn night. She moaned into my mouth, the same sound she’d made as she enjoyed every bite of her food. My hands moved from the countertop to her waist, squeezing, before moving around to her ass.
Our tongues licked and tasted one another, savoring every touch. One of Sandra’s arms rose to wrap around my neck while her other hand went to caressing the hairs of my beard. I started to grow dizzy from our kisses alone. My dick hardened and began to strain against the pants I wore. I pressed myself into her, lowering my face to lick her neck. Her skin was so damn soft.
“Hsss,” she hissed when I ran my teeth along the sensitive flesh there. “W-wait,” she panted, pushing against my shoulders.
I pulled back, looking down on her.
“I need to get something,” she stated, scurrying out of my arms and out of the kitchen before I even had time to respond.
I ran my hand down the side of my face. As much as I wanted to be patient with her because she needed it, I wasn’t sure I could. Maybe inviting her over wasn’t such a good idea. Because the last damn thing I wanted to do was simply cuddle up on the damn sofa and watch a movie, or worse, take her home. I wanted to rip that damn dress off and—
“This,” she stated, walking back into the kitchen and placing a piece of paper down on the counter next to where I stood. I watched as she looked anxiously between the paper and myself, biting her bottom lip.
“What’s this?” I questioned, gesturing to the paper.
“Read it.”
I eyed her for a second before lifting the paper and reading it over. I swallowed. “Test results.” I pinned her with my gaze.
She nodded. “Um, negative for … well, you can see for yourself.”
I wrinkled my forehead. She’d actually gone out and gotten tested for STDs and brought the paper to me as proof. Maybe she was ready. Except …
“And this is supposed to mean w
hat?” Placing the paper back on the counter, I looked at her expectantly.
Her eyes moved from me to the paper and back to me as if the answer was obvious. It was but she needed to say it out loud.
“That, uh, well, I’m ready. I mean if you are. Are you?”
Hell yeah.
“Ready for what, Sandra?” I questioned, moving closer to her, crowding her space.
“For you know …”
“I don’t know.” I took another step forward, bracketing her body with my arms again. I knew exactly what she was saying and what these tests were meant to prove. “You’re going to have to say it, little one.”
****
Sandra
Seven little words.
Seven.
That was all I needed to say.
I want to have sex with you.
That was all I needed to say for Damon to take away this ache. He knew it and I knew it and yet my mouth failed me. My body hummed when he moved a half an inch closer; the only thing separating our bodies were the clothes we still wore.
Dipping his head, he placed a kiss to my neck before rising again, looking me straight in the eye.
“When’s the last time you had sex?”
My eyes closed as I inhaled. Never.
My eyes flew open and I thanked God I hadn’t actually said that answer out loud. Sex was a voluntary act between two people, and well, that’d never been the case with me.
“A long time,” I breathed out, instead of the truth.
He nodded. “Since Monique’s father?”
My stomach plummeted. Casting my gaze down at the ground, I nodded.
“Do you want me to go slow?”
I pushed out a breath feeling comforted by his questioned. “Can you?”
He kissed my lips. “I can do anything you want me to. But if you’re not ready for this tell me now. Because I’m letting you know my every intention is to have you screaming my name by the end of the night. If you’re not down for that, it’s probably best I take you home.”
I swallowed the lump of fear that’d gotten stuck in my throat. Because more than anything, my body filled with the need of the promise it heard in his words and that was held in his eyes. I knew even before we’d done anything that Damon wouldn’t let me down. I knew it with my entire being.
Just Say The Word Page 13
