Confessions of a Chocoholic

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by London Saint James


  He nodded. “What do you think about having a cold lemonade with me?”

  “You do know how to tempt a woman.”

  His mouth quirked up on one side, unleashing his dimples. “I sure hope so.”

  When he intertwined his fingers with mine, my heart skipped a beat.

  ****

  The lemonade stand was really an old-timey ice cream truck with LoveMatch.com and their slogan printed under the hatched opening in the side where a couple of ladies served drinks to the patrons lined up to buy them.

  “All the proceeds made here today go to charity,” said Colton.

  “Wow.” I squeezed his hand. “That’s an awesome thing to do.”

  “We all have to do our part.”

  “I wish everyone felt that way. If they did, the world would be a better place.”

  “Follow me,” he said, tugging my hand.

  “Wait.” I untangled my fingers from his and grabbed the Nikon hanging from my neck, put it to my eye, and took a picture of his venue. “I’m supposed to be covering the events and vendors here today.”

  “So you’re on the job?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “It’s break time.” He beckoned for me to tag along.

  We walked around to the back of the truck, and kept on for a few more feet until we came to one of the roped off parking lots. Confused, I stared at a fancy travel camper. He went up the two steps, opened the door, and turned to look at me.

  “It’s mine. A refuge from the heat and crowds. I bought it about a year ago to take on some of our company outings and charity fundraisers like this one today.”

  Smiling, I went inside.

  “This is very nice.” I ran my hand across the top of the camper’s version of a dining room table.

  “It does the job,” he said, and opened the door on a mini frig. He snagged up two cans and gave me one. The cold felt wonderful, so I held the chilly aluminum to my overheated cheek. “Feel good?”

  “Delightful,” I said with a contented sigh.

  “I promised you a cold lemonade, and I delivered.”

  I removed the cool can from my warm flesh and stared at it, chuckling. “Country Time Lemonade. You are a man of your word.”

  “I try to be.” Colton took the few steps it required to cross the space, put his drink on the table behind me, and took the camera from around my neck. He placed it on the plush banquette tucked around the table. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.

  “You’ve been thinking about removing my camera?”

  “No.” He dipped his head, and brushed his lips across mine in a whisper-soft touch. A burn started and seemed to smolder between my legs. “I’ve been thinking about tasting your lips.”

  Unable to stop myself, I dropped my unopened can. It made a dull thud when it hit the floor beside me. I stood up on my tiptoes, wrapped my arms around his strong neck, and pressed my lips to his.

  His large hand rested between my shoulder blades and the other on my lower back. I actually hated the shirt I had on. Even though it was lightweight, the barrier of the material kept me from feeling his flesh on mine. My thoughts quickly changed back to his tongue as it traced along the curve of my upper lip. He nibbled at me. His hand slipped up to the back of my moist neck. He twined his fingers into my curls and tugged gently at the base of my hair, pulling my head back. He kissed my jaw. My exposed throat. Nuzzled his nose in the hollow there.

  “You taste salty sweet,” he said in a voice that tantalized.

  Feeling lightheaded, I moaned when he did a combination of open mouth caresses and teeth-nibbles on my skin. But, when he swept his lips up to my ear and drew the fleshy lobe into his mouth, I wanted to crumple.

  “That feels so good,” I said. I shuddered in his arms.

  “You’re beautiful, Lex.”

  His warm breath gusting across my hot flesh and his words were enough to make chills ripple down my spine.

  I slid my hands along the back of his shirt, feeling the muscles I had to see. I tugged at the bottom, lifting. “Take this off,” I said in a breathless pant, throwing any pretense of caution to the wind.

  Colton brought his head up from my neck. Without hesitation, he ripped the T-shirt from over his head and dropped it. Tanned skin, immense biceps, large pectorals with small, pebbled, copper-colored nipples, and a slab of abdominal muscles greeted me.

  I reached for him and fingered the ripples on his stomach before I kissed his flesh, peppering his chest with hot kisses. When I flicked his nipple with my tongue, the muscles beneath my hand and mouth jumped. I lightly bit. He groaned and moved the hair from my face. I glanced up at him from beneath my lashes. He was looking at me with an intensity that shook me for a moment, but I didn’t have time to dwell upon the emotion because he picked me up and sat my backside down on the table. My legs dangled over the edge. My flip-flops took a nosedive.

  “Are you sure you want this?” Colton asked.

  “What if I said I never wanted anything more?”

  He unbuttoned my shirt and folded back the cotton fabric. “What if I said, I know.” It wasn’t a question.

  He stepped in between my legs and slipped the garment from my arms. My nipples poked against the lace of my bra. He took the material-covered tip into his mouth and tugged. I gripped the edge of the table. His finger ran under the strap on my shoulder.

  “I need to take this off,” I said.

  He stopped torturing me with his mouth, reached for the snap on the front of my bra, and with nimble fingers, flicked it. My breasts bounced out, free from their prison. He wasted no time touching me. Colton squeezed my boobs together, and licked the cleavage. I moaned and loosened the button on my capris. Unzipped. His quick hands grabbed my hips.

  “Lift,” he said. I did. He quickly took them down my legs, dipped his hand into the waistband of my panties, and slid a finger between my feminine folds.

  “God,” I uttered as he rubbed me and kissed his way down my neck. Collarbone. Chest. Took a needy nipple into his warm mouth. “Oh…” I muttered when he sucked. He totally knew what he was doing. “Harder.”

  He obliged and tugged with his lips. Teeth. He briefly stopped and stared at me with a mixed expression of concentration and a splash of animalistic hunger before he kissed my stomach. I melted when he swirled his tongue into my belly button.

  Lifting his head, he swiped open mouthed kisses up my body, laying me back against the hard surface of the table, and lightly traced his fingertips from my chin to my navel before scooting my hips forward. In the next instant, he pulled my panties off and spread my thighs.

  When he went to his knees and parted my lower lips with his fingers, excitement coiled in my belly, creaming my sex.

  “You are truly exquisite,” he muttered.

  The reality of the moment washed over me, and something inside my head and body clicked into this sort of surreal sexual overdrive. I concluded a woman who doesn’t feel the power of her femininity or the exhilaration when a gorgeous man goes to his knees to worship her pussy must be insane.

  He didn’t say another word. I just felt the warmth of his tongue. He licked my clit once. Twice. Three times before twirling the sensitive flesh with his tongue. I wasn’t going to stop him. I couldn’t. I grabbed the edge of the table again, moaning as he teased and intimately tasted me. He fucked my open cunt with the tip of his tongue. Lapped at me. Licked me from slit to clit. He swirled. Flicked.

  “You like it when I suck on that clitty, don’t you?” he asked, voice husky.

  “Oh, yes.”

  I was soaking wet and on the verge of a fast climax when he stopped.

  “Don’t come,” he said.

  “I’m. I….”

  He slapped my sopping pussy with his whole hand. I let out a hiss of air from between my teeth. The blow shocked me, in a good way. My clit buzzed. He struck me again. I writhed. The table shook. His can of Country Time went over the edge, but I didn’t hear it hit the fl
oor. I was too busy enjoying the tongue lashing Colton started to impart upon my tingling clitoris again.

  My thighs trembled.

  “Not yet, Lexi.”

  “I’ll try,” I squeaked.

  Sliding a finger into my need, pressing it to the hilt, he worked me. In and out, in and out, until his fingers glided easily. Without stopping, he lifted my leg with his free hand and placed it over his sturdy left shoulder.

  “Put your other leg over my other shoulder,” he said.

  I did.

  “Good, sweetheart.”

  When he inserted another finger into my slick opening, I made a sound I’d never heard before.

  “Do you trust me to make this good?”

  “It’s—” He pinched my clit. I shivered and managed to make coherent words. “It’s already past good.”

  Colton gave a breathy chuckle. “Do you trust me?”

  That was a tricky and complicated question to answer. The last man I trusted was Price, and with the exception of my daughter, that sexual relationship had been a huge mistake.

  “Um,” I muttered.

  “I’ll never take you or your body where you’re not ready to go.”

  He slid his two fingers in then out of my pussy, over and over.

  “I think I’m ready to go now.”

  “No,” he said. He stopped his finger action. I tried to pump myself on him. “Ut-ut-uh.”

  “Please,” I said. At this point, I wasn’t beyond begging him to make me come.

  He licked my clit once. I quivered, my pussy tightening around his digits.

  “I won’t ever hurt you. You need to trust that,” he said.

  “God, Colton. You keep stopping.”

  He stole my breath when he plunged a third finger inside of me.

  “You’re so wet for me.”

  “Mmmm….”

  He plundered my sex with a rhythm that enticed, picking up the pace and going deeper with every thrust.

  “If you want me to stop fingering this sweet pussy, tell me,” he said.

  I shook my head back and forth. “No. Please don’t stop.”

  He pressed one hand on my pelvic bone, just above my mound of Venus, and pushed the fingers of his other into me. He’d found my sweet spot. I ground down on his hand.

  “Aaah…” I muttered as he worked his magic.

  “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

  He wiggled his fingers while inside me, pulsing without pulling out, keeping them against that bundle of nerves that made me shake.

  “No. Don’t.”

  Fingering me, he lightly bit on my clitoris, and I went over the edge, shouting out his name in exaltation as the explosion of my climax shot me into oblivion.

  Chapter Five

  I should have been nervous, but I was strangely calm, sitting on the side of my bed, folding fresh laundered towels into neat squares. Perhaps it was the mundane activity that kept me from frantically obsessing over my newest dinner plans. Colton and I had been officially seeing each other for a few weeks, but tonight was different. Tonight, we wouldn’t be out on the town, we’d be home. At my home.

  Bailey came running in, announcing, “The doorbell, Mommy.”

  “Okay, Bee,” I said, getting up. She headed out of the room before me with a skip, step, skip.

  When I got to the door, I took a second to swipe a straightening hand down my shirt, took a deep breath, then unlocked the door and opened it wide.

  “Pizza’s here,” said Colton, who was standing there with a huge box in one hand, a fuzzy stuffed animal in the other, and that sexy smile of his plastered across his stunning face.

  “Let me help.” I reached. Colton handed over his special delivery and stepped in, closing the door behind him as I moved away.

  “This is for you, Bailey,” he said, holding out a black and white dog. She squealed and clapped. He bent to give her the toy, which she took in haste. “This dog won’t poo on your carpet.”

  Hugging the plush toy, she twirled.

  “What do you say to Colton, Bailey?” I prompted.

  “Thank you,” she said, dancing around like a wild-child.

  “You’re welcome,’” said Colton.

  I placed the red and white cardboard pizza box on the coffee table. “I’ll get us some drinks and napkins.”

  “Can we have Kool-Aid, Mommy?”

  Colton glanced from me to my daughter. “I love cherry Kool-Aid.”

  “All right. A round of cherry Kool-Aid will be coming right up,” I said.

  Once inside the kitchen, I grabbed a pitcher from the cupboard, hearing Bailey singing, then she stopped.

  “Do you have a little girl?” she asked Colton.

  “No. I don’t have any kids, but my sister has a little boy.”

  “Does he go to school too?”

  “He will go to kindergarten next year.”

  There was a pause. Bailey started humming the ABC song.

  “Do you like going to school?” Colton asked her.

  “Uh huh,” she said.

  More humming before she asked, “Are you Mommy’s boyfriend?”

  The sound of Colton’s chuckle made me smile. “I guess that depends on your mommy.”

  “You don’t have pictures painted on your arm like my daddy.”

  “You mean tattoos?”

  “Yeah. Toos,” she said.

  “No. I don’t have any tattoos. Do you?”

  Bailey giggled. “No….”

  I stacked three plastic cups, one inside the other, grabbed up the newly made Kool-Aid, snagged a stack of napkins, and returned to the living room. Bailey was seated next to Colton on the couch, marching her toy dog down the side of his well-muscled arm.

  ****

  With our bellies too full of pepperoni pizza, Colton and I lounged on the couch more than we sat. His back rested on one couch arm, mine on the other.

  “Thanks for tonight,” I said.

  “You’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me.”

  “I do.” I ran my sock-covered toes over his knee. He grabbed my foot and started massaging the balls of my feet. I moaned. “That’s a little piece of heaven.”

  Bailey came down the hall with a pink feather boa around her neck. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “Baby girl, he’ll be here soon, I’m sure,” I said.

  She spun and ran down the hall.

  I looked at Colton. “I should apologize now,” I said while he continued to lull me into a relaxed state with his foot massage.

  One dark brow rose. “For what?”

  “This is Bailey’s weekend to stay with her dad again, and when she goes, I’m usually in a piss-poor mood.”

  “Then I’ll have to do something to put you in a better state of being.” He pressed his palm into my heel.

  “God. Has anyone ever told you that you’re good with your hands?”

  The doorbell had me going stiff. Colton let go of my foot. Bailey, still with her boa around her neck, tugged her Hello Kitty backpack behind her as she bounded into the living room.

  “Daddy’s here!”

  With a sigh, I trudged off the couch and to the door, answering it.

  “Lex,” Price greeted, then looked around me to see his daughter. “B.B. Baby. You look lovely this evening.”

  “It’s Bailey’s turn for show and tell at school on Monday and she wants to take one of your old band CDs to class. Can you make sure and do that for her?” I asked Price.

  “Daddy, Mommy has a boyfriend,” said Bailey.

  Price glowered at me.

  “His name is Colton, and he bought me a puppy,” she said. “And we ate pizza, and he don’t have toos like you. And he’s here visiting.”

  Price took Bailey’s hand. She went out onto the breezeway. He grabbed her backpack. She did airplane arms and started running the length of the front landing.

  “You have some man around our daughter?” Price asked, his jaw tightening.

  “Who’s t
hat Keekee woman around ‘our daughter’?”

  Colton came up behind me. “Hi. I’m Colton Westmore,” he said to Price.

  I smirked. Price’s brow furrowed.

  “Price Shelton,” he said stiffly. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but then again—”

  “I get it,” Colton said then quieted his voice. “Let’s not get into the whole who’s got the bigger dick thing and call it a night already. Besides, do you really want your little girl to see what kind of asses we can make of ourselves?”

  “Lexi,” Price said in a snipped tone. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Bee,” I called out, ignoring him.

  “Yeah?”

  “You be good at Daddy’s and come give Mommy a hug.” She ran over to me. Price stood aside. I bent down, squeezed her tight, and kissed her cheek. “I love you to the moon and back.”

  “Love you, Mommy.”

  After Bee left, Colton tugged me into his arms and hugged me. I placed my cheek to his chest and melted into him.

  “I hate that I let him get under my skin.”

  He brushed his hand through my hair as I listened to his steady heartbeat. “You know,” he said. “I have just the thing to get your mind off the ex.”

  I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. “You do?”

  He nodded and hit me with a wicked grin.

  ****

  “I have to admit, this wasn’t what I thought you had in mind when you said you had just the thing to get my mind off Price,” I said.

  Colton chuckled, and took my hand to help me out of his car. “What were you expecting?”

  I stared up at the bright marquee on the front of the multiplex to see “Horror Fest,” and smiled. What I had in mind involved sweaty naked bodies bumping against each other and mutual orgasms. “Not this,” I said. “I haven’t been to watch a grown-up movie in an actual movie theater in forever.”

  “No?” Colton asked, taking hold of my hand and intertwining our fingers together as we made our way to the box office.

  I shook my head. “It’s been goofy dancing cartoon characters and singing animal movies for me lately.”

  “Well.” He smiled, and the sight made me weak in the knees. “I don’t think Horror Fest will have any singing or dancing cartoon characters.”

 

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