by Pamela Yaye
“I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings, Dominique. Things got out of hand that night, and I was hoping we could put the whole ugly incident behind us.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m not interested.”
“I can’t.” Marcel stared at her for a long moment and then lowered his head. “I can’t do it.”
“You can’t do what?”
“Stay away from you.”
Dominique didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly she was on her feet, in front of her desk. Marcel had some kind of hold on her—some indiscernible power she couldn’t resist. He projected an air of confidence, but he wasn’t arrogant or smug like some of the men she had the misfortune of meeting at Destination Wellness. Marcel was as unpredictable as he was fine, and that worried her. What if he tried to kiss her? Or played with her hair? Or slipped a finger inside her? To regain control of her thoughts, she breathed in slowly, deeply, all the way down to her stomach.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been not seeing you the past two weeks?” he asked.
Dominique hoped he wasn’t expecting an answer, because she didn’t have one.
Then Marcel said something she recognized. “‘I searched all night for the one my heart loves, for the one whose caresses lavish my soul,’” he continued. “‘The days spent without the light of my queen’s smile are meaningless, for I am her beloved, and she is mine…’”
Hearing Marcel eloquently recite her favorite Prodigal C. Lewis poem made Dominique’s ears hum and her breasts swell. With each word, he took a step closer. There was an appreciable change in the room temperature, and Dominique felt perspiration clinging to her silk blouse. Marcel smelled like passion fruit, and his eyes sparkled when he smiled. He spoke fervently, with meaning, in a tone that could only be described as mesmerizing. There was that pull again, that charge that seemed to barrel right through her.
Slowly, without a word, he drew her hands into his. Dominique didn’t know why the gentle caress of his thumb on her skin evoked such feelings of pleasure, but it did. It was as if he’d cast a spell over her, and the harder she tried to shake her attraction to him, the weaker she felt. Marcel had an arsenal of tricks that would make David Copperfield jealous, and remembering the cigarette-worthy orgasm he’d given her two weeks earlier produced a trembling sensation between her legs. Being with Marcel in her office was an occupational hazard. How was she supposed to withstand the heat?
“I feel like a jerk for what I did.” He apologized again, this time in French, and Dominique nearly melted. French men had always been her weakness, and it didn’t help that the one standing before her was also an exceptional lover. “I want us to start over.”
The truth was written all over his face. Marcel wasn’t putting her on; he was truly sorry. “I still don’t understand what made you think I slept with you for—” Dominique lost her focus when he swooped down and gave her a kiss. And what a kiss it was. It produced a delicious warmth that quickly saturated every part of her body. Weakened by his touch, her hands and legs shook uncontrollably. To prevent sliding to the ground, she braced herself against the desk. That was when the real problems started. With his arms securely locked around her waist, he ground himself against her. Dominique heard her phone crash to the floor and giggled when Marcel said, “I guess now we don’t have to worry about being interrupted!”
Dominique felt light, dizzy, as if she was suspended in the air, twirling upside down like a performer in Cirque du Soleil. Nothing compared to kissing this man. He ravished her with his lips, his mouth and his hands. Foreplay wasn’t a prerequisite for making love, and if Marcel hadn’t pulled away and retrieved the fallen desk phone, she would have hiked up her skirt and begged him to take her right then and there. Her cheeks flamed at the thought. What happened to keeping her distance? To not throwing herself at him again?
“If we don’t want to repeat what happened in the Euphoria suite,” he said in a husky voice, “we better get out of here.”
Shame burned Dominique’s cheeks. Troubled over her apparent lack of self-control where he was concerned, she stood there, unsure of what to say or do. Staring down at the carpet, she tucked her hair behind her ears. This was silly. Why was she beating herself up for kissing Marcel? It was time to stop fighting their attraction and deal with it head-on. I’m attracted to him, and I want to have sex with him again. A smile came. There, I admitted it.
Trying to resist Marcel only made him more desirable, more enticing. So why not indulge in a few nights of pleasure and get him out of her system once and for all? He was a loving, compassionate man, the kind of guy every girl wants to bring home to Mom. He was such a do-gooder that he made Bono look like a slacker, but that didn’t mean Dominique wanted him as a boyfriend. She wasn’t ready to risk her heart again. But being lovers was definitely a concept she could get behind. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”
“Ask away,” he whispered, casting his eyes over her physique. “I have no secrets.”
Raising her chin, she blew out a breath and stopped wringing her fingers. It was time to quit being nervous around him. If she could manage the day-to-day operations of First Centennial Trust, she could tell this attractive Frenchman how she felt. “What do you want from me?”
“I want to enjoy the pleasure of your company.”
“Come off it,” she quipped, poking him in the chest. “That’s not all you’re after.”
“I have no hidden motives or objectives, Dominique.” Marcel slid his hands down her shoulders. “Tell me what’s on your mind, and we’ll discuss it like mature adults.”
It was time to quit tiptoeing around their feelings and get everything out in the open—that or risk being fired for having sex in her office. “I want us to be lovers.”
When his eyes widened, she hastened to add, “Just because I’m not interested in getting married again doesn’t mean that I’m into having casual sex. I’m not. But if we’re going to do this, we have to be exclusive.”
Marcel’s mouth dried at the prospect of seeing Dominique naked again, but he didn’t jump at her offer. Where had this boldness come from? This large-and-in-charge persona? Finding a job in his field would likely mean relocating to the East Coast after graduation, so why not have fun with a beautiful woman to pass the time? Dominique was serving herself up on a platter, and he wasn’t about to refuse such an appealing offer, even if it wasn’t everything he really wanted. They’d hang out, have amazing sex and then he’d find a girl to settle down with. Until then, he was going to enjoy making love to this seriously sexy woman. And to think, he’d almost written her off after that night in the Euphoria suite. “Let me get this straight. You’re proposing we become friends with benefits.”
“No, just physical pleasure. No emotions involved.”
“That sounds like a good arrangement to me.”
“I think so.” A smile filled her lips. They had a powerful connection, one that grew stronger every time they touched. She had an unstoppable attraction to this man and wasn’t afraid to admit it. “We can walk away at any time, no questions asked.”
“Why don’t we finish our conversation over lunch?”
“Funny, I don’t remember us having a date.”
“I hope you don’t think I was being presumptuous, but I made reservations at the Chef’s Quarter for us.” Marcel stroked her arm. He loved the fullness of her lips, her seductive curves and her insatiable sexual appetite. “I know you’re busy managing one of the largest and most reputable banks in the country, but I’d love if you could join me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you teasing me?”
“Of course not, my queen.”
“Good, because I’ve worked really hard to get where I am today.”
“I know. That’s one of the things I admire about you. You’re the kind of woman who’ll stop at nothing to achieve her dreams.”
Wearing a proud smile, she moved behind her desk and grabbed her c
oat off her chair. “I’ll come for lunch on one condition.”
“Name your terms.” He stepped aside and held open her office door.
“We have to go to the Seoul Kitchen. I’ve been dreaming of that spicy beef for weeks!”
Chapter 11
“Taryn, quit being so dramatic,” Dominique chided, as she exited the women’s changing room at Total Fitness. “The aerobic class wasn’t that hard.”
Taryn heaved her pink gym bag over her shoulder. “That instructor is trying to kill us! The class is hard enough without him goading us into doing push-ups. I don’t care if DeMarcus is the trainer to the stars. His ass is rude.”
“If you want to have a booty like Beyoncé, you have to put the work in.”
“Well, count me out then, because I’m not killing myself to have a tight ass!”
The sour expression on her sister’s face made Dominique crack up. “We’ll unwind in the steam room, and then I’ll buy you a fruit smoothie. How does that sound?”
“A fruit smoothie? Make it a strawberry daiquiri and you’re on!”
“We’re off alcohol, remember? Trainer’s orders.”
Taryn snorted a laugh. “Whatever. I’m fixing myself a cocktail as soon as I get home.”
“Do you still want to check out the poetry jam at Houston’s on Friday night?”
“I don’t know if I can. It depends on whether or not I can get a babysitter.”
“Why are you getting a sitter? I thought Andre was taking the kids camping this weekend?”
“That’s what I thought, but my soon-to-be ex-husband has a business meeting in London.” Sighing, she pushed a hand through her short, honey-blond hair. “I’m so glad he’s planning to move out, because I’m getting sick of pretending everything’s okay in front of the kids.”
“Taryn, you guys are just going through a rough patch,” Dominique said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to work this thing out and—”
“This is more than a rough patch. All Andre cares about is advancing his career, and it’s at the expense of me and the kids. Twelve years is a long time to be mistreated, and I deserve better. I’m in the prime of my life, and when I’m ready I’ll find love again.”
“Being single has its own share of headaches, Taryn,” Dominique told her, glancing out the window. The carefree days of summer were gone and had been replaced with short, crisp days. Soon, it would be cold, and the thought of having to endure another long, lonely winter depressed her. She’d love to have someone to cuddle with on those frigid, dark nights—someone who liked poetry, exotic food and French films. Dominique’s cheeks flushed. Had she just described Marcel Benoit?
“Andre’s the only guy I’ve ever dated, the only man I’ve ever been with. It’s time I spread my wings and see what else is out there.”
“Taryn, you’re making a huge mistake. Filing for divorce was—”
“It’s my mistake to make. Not yours.”
Famous last words, Dominique thought, shaking her head.
As they passed the gymnasium, they spotted a group of men running the length of the basketball court. Women decked out in makeup and skimpy workout clothes were standing along the sidelines cheering the players on.
“Hey, isn’t that that guy who was hanging all over you at First Fridays?” she asked, pointing at the basketball court. “Marcel Benoit, right?”
“He wasn’t hanging all over me.”
“Girl, please, you guys almost had sex in the coatroom!”
Dominique’s mouth snapped shut. She was sorry she’d confided in her sister about what happened in the Sheraton coatroom; she decided to drop the act. “I can’t deny that. And you’re right. That is him.”
“I was wondering why you wanted to come all the way down here to exercise.” Eyebrows raised slightly, she leveled a look at Dominique. “All that crap about needing a change of scenery was a bunch of mumbo jumbo. You came here to see him.”
Dominique glanced at the court. Surprised to find Marcel watching her, she felt her temperature soar. He waved, and she did, too. “Okay, so he might have mentioned that he played basketball here, but that doesn’t mean I like him or anything.”
“Right, and I’m a natural blonde!” Her shrill laugh drew stares from people passing by. “Marcel’s the first guy you’ve been interested in since Earl left, and you get all wide-eyed every time you say his name. Just admit it, Niq. You’re hot for the guy.”
“No, I’m not.” Her protest sounded weak, but it was the only thing she could think of. “Are we going to the steam room or not?”
“This is so high school,” Taryn complained. “Why don’t you just go over there and say hi?”
“Because that’s not my style. I don’t chase men. They chase me.”
A laugh burst out of her mouth. “That’s why you’re still single! If I were you, I’d go over there and talk to that fine chocolate brother before one of those chicks steals him away.”
Dominique turned away from the court. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You go ahead.” Taryn opened her cell phone. “I have to call and check in with the kids. You know, make sure they didn’t kill each other when I left.”
“All right, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“It looks like Marcel’s game is over.”
“Even more reason to leave,” she said casually, though she was desperate to turn around and see if he was still watching her. “I’ll meet you in there.”
Minutes later, Dominique pushed open the door to the steam room. It was empty. Settling onto one of the empty benches, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to go blank. Only it didn’t. She thought about her mom, her sisters and her dad’s death two years earlier. Life would be so different if her father was still alive. Her mother wouldn’t be angry at the world, Jenna wouldn’t be working full-time to pay for school and Taryn would still be happily married. Her dad had always been the glue that held the family together, and without him, their lives had spiralled out of control.
Dominique heard the door creak open and glanced over her shoulder. Time stopped. Marcel. Flushed, she licked her lips. He climbed the wooden bench and sat down beside her. His scent energized her, and her lust grew until it was overpowering. Why am I acting so nervous? she thought, cleaning her hands on her towel. Because Marcel’s a charming man with great wit, a hard body and the most amazing hands.
“How was your game?” To keep from staring at his bare chest, she raised her gaze to his face. “Did your team win?”
“Yeah, and I scored the winning shot.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” she said, loving how cool and relaxed he looked.
“I ran into your sister at the canteen, and she told me where to find you.”
You were looking for me? The thought excited her.
“Have you had dinner?” he asked.
“Yeah, a couple of hours ago.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping we could check out that new jazz bar up by the university.”
“Well, I’m always up for live music and good food. You should know that by now!”
Dominique laughed, and so did he. There was something about Marcel, something innate and authentic, that made her feel safe with him. He paid attention to her, took her to nice places and was genuinely interested in what she had to say. And as they sat there, discussing their upcoming week, Dominique decided to invite him to the exhibit at the Seattle Art Gallery. “The gallery is doing a tribute to the men and women of the Harlem Renaissance, and I thought we could go together.” She added, “If you’re not busy studying for your exam, of course.”
“When would you like to go?”
“Next Saturday.” This was going to be her first weekend off in months, and she wanted to spend it with Marcel. “I have no plans, so we can make a whole day of it.”
“But that’s six days away. I don’t know if I can wait that long to see you again.”
“Marcel, I don’t want you to think I’
m playing games, because I’m not. It’s just that I have a lot going on right now.” Dominique shot him a coy glance. “My father used to say, ‘good things come to those who wait,’ and I promise to make next Saturday worth your while.”
He stared at her so deeply, so intently, that she couldn’t breathe. Marcel was her guilty pleasure, his touch her hidden weakness, and every time they were together the fire burned hotter. Dominique liked seeing him and flirting with him, and the sex was so delicious she was craving more. That was why she leaned over and offered her lips in a kiss. To her surprise, he didn’t kiss her back. Instead, he brushed his mouth tenderly across her cheek.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Dominique, if I kiss you, all hell is going to break loose up in here.” Facing her, he took her hand and held it in his. “You’re too special to have sex with in a darkened steam room, and more importantly, I don’t want anyone else to see your beautiful body.”
“But there’s no one else in here right now.”
Marcel glanced around. She was right. There wasn’t. “Well, that changes everything.”
Excitement built.
“I’m glad you came looking for me. I’ve thought a lot about you the past few days.”
“So have I, ma belle reine.” He untied the towel and let it slide to the floor. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind if I tried.”
“That’s good to know.”
Marcel looked in her eyes and stared deeply. He saw the passion and hunger reflected inside. Nibbling the inside of her wrist, he carried his kisses from her arm to the curve of her elbow. As he raised his head, she kissed him hard on the lips. Her mouth was warm and tasted like peppermint. Fast and furious, his heart beat out of control. Marcel hated that she had so much power over him, hated that he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, from stroking her. “Sit on my lap,” he instructed, sliding his hands over her butt. “I need to be inside you.”
Marcel moaned in sweet agony as Dominique grinded her hips against his erection. He felt dominated, controlled, possessed. And that was damn hot. He couldn’t wait to be inside her, couldn’t wait to feel the pleasure of her tight, wet sex. But first, he had to please her. Marcel devoured her, consumed her, branded her with his lips and tongue and hands. Wanted to ensure that after tonight she’d never want anyone else.