Pleasure for Two

by Pamela Yaye

  “Marcel, you make me so wet.” Her voice was a rich, husky hue.

  “I aim to please.” Starting at her ears, he caressed every inch of her smooth, delectable body. He sucked her fingers, licked her breasts, blew on her ear until she squealed and squirmed in his lap. Dominique had the cutest little laugh, and Marcel loved that she was fun and playful in the bedroom—or rather, the steam room.

  Marcel kissed her shoulders, her stomach, ran his tongue down the inside of her thighs. Turned on by the sight of her pleasure, he licked her neck. Dominique was a vixen, a risk-taker, the kind of woman his mother had always warned him about, and he couldn’t get enough of her. Inflamed with desire, he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him for another kiss.

  They pawed each other, kissed and fondled and teased, until Dominique couldn’t think straight. She’d never been so wild, so reckless, and the more she tried to control her urges, the stronger they were. They were going to have sex, right here, right now, and there was nothing either of them could do to stop it.

  “Dominique, I can’t get enough of this. Can’t ever get enough of you.”

  Her heart went soft when he kissed her. From the day they’d met, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him, hadn’t been able to stop reliving every kiss, every sensation his touch aroused. He slid a hand deep inside her shorts and her breath caught. Dominique heard a ripping sound and stared down at his lap. “Marcel, you tore my panties!”

  “I’ll buy you more.” A sly grin lit up his face. “And if you promise to model them for me, I’ll throw in a garter belt, stockings and a pair of stilettos.”

  “Mr. Benoit,” she cooed, rubbing her hand over his chest, “you have yourself a deal.”

  Marcel reached down and touched her softness. She was warm, moist, wetter than she’d ever been. His fingers teased her, caressed her, made it hard for her to stay still. His long, gliding strokes making her purr. Hungry for more, she thrust her hips toward his hand.

  “Deeper,” she urged, her voice a broken whisper. “Deeper, baby. Deeper.”

  Marcel answered her whispered request. Spreading her lips, he rubbed his thumb back and forth across her clitoris. Bliss followed. Her whole body, from her ears to her toes, shuddered. To keep from crying out, Dominique buried her face in his chest.

  With his free hand, he gripped her butt, stroking her until her legs quivered. He claimed her, possessed her, made her body sing when he drove his fingers deep inside her. He found every last one of her hot spots and brought her to orgasm the way no one had ever done before. And as he sucked her nipple into his mouth, she knew there was only one way to thank him.

  Feeling weak and dizzy, she pressed her hands against the wall. Needing a minute to catch her breath, she waited impatiently for the moment to pass. When it did, Dominique kissed Marcel with everything she had. His breathing was rapid, his eyes dark. The sound of his savage groans turned her on. They clicked on so many levels, and knowing that she pleased him bolstered her confidence. No more holding back. It was time to live in the moment and do all of the things she’d been dreaming of doing to Marcel since the first time she’d laid eyes on him.

  Grazing her teeth along his ear, she rubbed her body against his chest, massaging him with her pelvis. His cologne clung to her skin, blanketing her in its thick, masculine scent. Swirling her hips, rocking them hard against him, made Dominique feel like one bad-ass chick.

  Marcel’s heart ping-ponged inside the walls of his chest when Dominique yanked down his basketball shorts and took his erection in her hand. Rising from the state of euphoria, he opened his eyes and dug frantically into his pocket. This time he’d come prepared. Retrieving the condom, he tore open the packet and rolled it down the length of his shaft.

  “Do you always play basketball with condoms in your pockets?” she teased, raising her eyebrows in a questioning slant. “Is it good luck or something?”

  Marcel chuckled. “No, but when Taryn told me where you were, I went into the changing room and took some out of my wallet.”

  “So, the sole purpose of coming in here was to have sex with me?”

  “Would you believe me if I said no?”

  “I would if it was the truth.”

  Marcel ran his hands down her shoulders. “The first time we made love—”

  “Don’t you mean the first time we had sex?” she corrected, interrupting.

  Holding her face in his palms, he forced her to meet his gaze. “We made love that night, Dominique. It’s not about when you become intimate, it’s about your feelings and emotions involved, and I care very deeply about you.” He pressed his lips along the side of her neck. “I didn’t protect you the first time we made love, and I still feel a lot of guilt about it. I won’t slip up like that again. I promise.”

  A smile bloomed across her lips. Lowering her head, she clasped his shaft and guided it to her core. Her legs were open just wide enough for him to slide inside her. Marcel entered her slowly, using just the tip of his erection. Pressing his hands flat against her thighs gave him a tight, snug entry. Straddling him, she gripped his broad, muscular shoulders, then rocked back and forth, in and out, up and down.

  Marcel felt as if he was going to burst into flames. Her breath tickled his skin, and her moans drowned out the noises on the other side of the wall. Thrusting upward, he stirred his penis slowly inside her. She had the flexibility of a gymnast, the confidence of a trained dancer and the most delicious shape. Dominique brought him to a place he never knew existed. A place he’d never been to before. He sounded like a wild animal—panting, grunting, growling—but he couldn’t help himself. Marcel could stay in this spot for the rest of his life—with her riding him like a pro—but he knew it was just a matter of time before one of the trainers caught them, and he didn’t want them to be banned from Total Fitness for the rest of their lives. “Dominique, I’m going to come,” he told her, feeling the familiar tug in his groin.

  “No…not yet. I’m not ready.”

  “I’ll follow you back to your place after we…” His voice faded as desire shot up his back. He was hot, on fire, over two hundred degrees. Overtaken by lust, he thrust into her with wild ecstasy. Pleasure flowed. And before he could catch his breath, a crushing, all-consuming orgasm shot through him, knocking him flat against the wall.

  “Are you okay?” Dominique asked, after a long moment. “Should I call the paramedics?”

  Marcel laughed. “No, but you could give me another one of your delicious kisses.”

  Her mouth was warm, sweet. Feeling more content then he could ever remember, he moved his hands slowly over her body. Dominique could have any man she wanted, but she’d chosen him. Or rather, they’d chosen each other. Marcel censured his thoughts. He had to proceed with caution. Telling Dominique how much he cared about her would scare her off. She was an independent, career-driven woman who was striving to be at the top of her field. She didn’t need a man, so until they got to know each other better, he had to keep his feelings under wraps.

  Then a knock on the door made them both jump.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s okay,” she told him, swathing the towel around her chest. “I asked Taryn to knock on the door at closing time.”

  “You did?” A grin claimed his lips, and then he laughed. “Go on, admit it. This was a setup.”

  “I just wanted to spend some time with you. Is there something wrong with that?”

  He dragged a finger down her arm. “Not at all, baby. Not at all.”

  Chapter 12

  Dominique was late—four days late to be exact. And staring at the calendar hanging on her bedroom wall wasn’t helping. Or was it? Convinced she’d miscalculated her dates, she put her index finger on the calendar and counted to twenty-eight. The numbers didn’t change. She should have gotten her period last Saturday.

  Fear coated the pit of her stomach. Her menstrual cycle ran like clockwork, and she couldn’t recall a time when she’d missed her period. Either I’
m more stressed than I thought, or…or I’m pregnant. One time was all it took. Wasn’t that what she preached to Jenna?

  Her heart beat out of control. What if she was pregnant? What then? Dominique shook off the thought. She couldn’t be pregnant. Not after having a quickie with Marcel in the Euphoria suite. Her mouth dried when she glanced at her bed. The box was sitting right where she’d left it. It was time to quit procrastinating and take the damn test. Heavy rain hadn’t dissuaded her from stopping at the corner store to buy the pregnancy test, and she refused to let her nerves control her.

  Inside the bathroom, Dominique carefully read the directions. In ten minutes, she’d know whether or not she was pregnant. To keep from staring at the slim applicator, she returned to the bedroom and plunked down at her vanity table.

  When the November issue of her favorite magazine failed to capture her attention, she picked up the phone and dialed her mother’s number. “Hi, Mom. How’s it going?” she asked when her mom picked up the phone. “What are you up to?”

  “I’m reorganizing my closet. It’s getting nippy outside, and I want to be ready for when the first big dump of snow arrives.”

  “Mom, it’s only the middle of fall. It isn’t going to snow anytime soon.” Dominique heard a door creak open and pictured her mom hustling into the spare bedroom, carrying loads of dresses, blouses and a plethora of Hermès scarves. “Are you going to be at Auntie Mallory’s house tomorrow? I was thinking of stopping by.”

  “No, tomorrow’s opening night at the opera, remember? I hope you’re not calling to cancel, because I paid good money for those tickets, and you girls promised we’d all go together.”

  Dominique stifled a groan. She’d forgotten about the event and would bet her sisters had, too. “What time does it start?”

  “Doors open at seven o’clock, but I’d like to be there by six o’clock. You’re going to come, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be there.”

  “Good, I just hope your sisters haven’t changed their minds. I hardly see you girls these days. Jenna studies around the clock, and Taryn’s so busy fighting with Andre that she hardly has time for me anymore. I wish she’d divorce his rusty old butt and be done with him already.”

  “Mom, don’t say things like that. Andre’s a good man who’s working hard to provide for his family. He was recently promoted and is under extreme pressure—”

  “That’s no excuse for neglecting his wife and kids. I know exactly what Taryn’s going through, because I experienced the same thing with your dad. If it weren’t for you girls, I would have left your father and started a new life for myself.”

  If you’d gotten a job and hadn’t badgered Dad for money all the time, he wouldn’t have suffered a massive heart attack. Like so many other conversations she’d had with her mom, Dominique had to resist lashing back. Her mother had lived her entire life as a pampered woman, and although she loved her dearly, she didn’t always respect her point of view. If she ever got married again, she’d be an asset to her husband, not a liability. They’d work together and raise their children to be…

  Suddenly, remembering the pregnancy test, she peered inside her bathroom. Dominique could see the test from where she was sitting but couldn’t decipher if there was one or two stripes on the pink applicator. “Mom, I have to go.”

  “Before you rush off, I want to hear all about that handsome Frenchman you’re dating.”

  “Who told you about Marcel?” Before the question was off her lips, she knew the answer: Taryn. Her sister had a Wendy Williams–size appetite for gossip and seemed to derive great pleasure from spreading other people’s business. “We’re not exactly dating. I met him at…at…” Dominique trailed off. Her mother hated that she was a masseuse and would blow a gasket if she knew she worked bachelor parties, so she revised the truth. “I met Marcel at the university when I was there visiting Jenna.”

  “Oh, so he’s not a banker?” The excitement in her mother’s voice waned and was replaced with frustration. “When I heard he was French, I assumed he was an international businessman. Maybe someone rich and successful you met through work.”

  “Marcel’s doing his graduate studies in biomedical engineering.” Dominique didn’t know why, but she wanted to impress her mom. Marcel was a gentleman—a quiet, tender soul who was unlimited in his caring of his family, friends and community. They’d been out twice since running into each other at the gym, and yesterday they’d attended a poetry reading on campus. It had been a night filled with wine, music and stolen kisses, and Dominique was anxious to see him again. “He speaks three languages, mentors other students and is one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met.”

  “But he’s a student,” her mother argued. “Why would you even consider dating someone who isn’t in the business world?”

  Pretending not to hear the question, she put an end to the conversation by saying, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five-fifteen. So be ready.”

  “Honey, I want you to be extra-cautious with this new guy you’re dating. You’re a good woman with a big heart, and I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

  “I’ll be okay, Mom. Try not to worry.”

  After reminders to wear something expensive to the opera, her mother said goodbye and hung up.

  Rising from her wrought-iron chair, she clicked off the phone and tossed it on the bed. She’d sat around long enough. It was time to find out if she was pregnant or not. Trepidation and excitement flooded her heart. Something told her this was just a false alarm, but that didn’t stop her hands from shaking. Her head was spinning, and the closer she got to the bathroom, the harder her legs wobbled.

  “Get it together,” she ordered herself. “You’re stressing out over nothing.”

  With a pounding heart and slick, sweaty palms, Dominique strode into her bathroom and picked up the pregnancy test sitting on the counter.

  “Dr. Copeland would like to see you again in three weeks’ time,” the nurse said, gesturing for Dominique to follow her out of the examination room. “Our computers are down right now, but I’ll call you next week with the date of your first ultrasound appointment.”

  Dominique rubbed a hand over her forehead, hoping the pounding in her brain would stop.

  “Are you going to be okay?” The receptionist put an arm on her shoulder. “Why don’t you wait here until the dizziness passes?”

  “I can’t. I’m on my lunch break, and I have to get back to work.” As she slipped on her sunglasses, she swung her purse over her shoulder and marched briskly through the clinic doors.

  Dominique didn’t know how she made it from the women’s clinic to her car, but when she did, she collapsed into the front seat. Reeling from the shock of the doctor’s words, she rested her head on the steering wheel and shut her eyes. Dr. Copeland confirmed it. She was pregnant. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. The pregnancy test she’d taken last night had been positive, but she’d convinced herself it was wrong. Unable to concentrate at work, she’d decided to come down to the clinic during her lunch break to see a doctor.

  Based on the physical exam conducted, her blood pressure was normal and everything looked good. It was too bad her body hadn’t received the message. Her heart was drumming in her chest, and she had the telltale symptoms of someone who was about to throw up. I’m only four weeks pregnant. Isn’t it too early for morning sickness?

  Dominique stared down at her hands. She’d had unprotected sex with Marcel, and though it had only happened once, she’d gotten pregnant. Disappointed in herself and the irresponsible choices she’d made, she choked down the blistering hot tears stinging the back of her eyes. Dominique felt numb, but there was something else coursing through her veins. It was a feeling she couldn’t identify, but it was real, stirring and profound.

  Lifting her head, she glanced absently at the dashboard. Her lunch break was over, and as she retrieved her cell phone from her purse, she tried to remember if she had
any important meetings that afternoon. “Hi, Lynn. It’s me. Do I have any messages?”

  “The president of Sure Life Insurance was here. I told him you were out, and he made an appointment for next Wednesday. Marcel Benoit called, but he didn’t leave a message.”

  “I won’t be returning to the office this afternoon, so please forward all of my calls to my cell phone. Also, collect the mail on my desk and send it out today. If anything comes up, I want you to contact me immediately.”

  “Sure, Ms. King. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Releasing a sigh, Dominique clicked off her cell phone and reached for her seat belt. Her hands were shaking so hard that she couldn’t lock the buckle into place. And when she tried to put the key in the ignition, it slipped from her grasp. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she grabbed a hold of her emotions. Dominique had never been one to cry over the cards she’d been dealt, and she wasn’t about to start now. She would do what she’d always done: persevere.

  Dominique exited the clinic parking lot and headed west. The sun was hanging high in the sky, and its brilliance soothed her. Her life had changed drastically in the space of ten minutes, but she couldn’t help think that maybe it had changed for the better. After all, this was what she’d always wanted—to have a baby and to raise it alone. Today her dreams had come true.

  Her family was expecting her to attend the opera tonight, but Dominique couldn’t face her mom. Not yet. Her mother would take one look at her and know something was wrong. Soon, she’d be showing and then there would be no hiding her pregnancy, but she needed more time. She’d break the news to her family during Thanksgiving and hope for the best.

  Discovering that she was pregnant had come as a shock, but as Dominique drove along Twelfth Street, she couldn’t keep her excitement at bay. She’d been there for the birth of her niece, and now she’d experience the life-changing moment for herself. Finally, after all these years, she was going to have a baby! So what if she wasn’t married? She wasn’t a teenage girl who’d gotten knocked up by her high school boyfriend. She had a great job, a four-bedroom home and family and friends who loved her. Her child would never want for anything, and she wasn’t going to let anyone make her feel guilty about being a single mom.