Chocolate Kisses

by Francis Ray

  Feeling better about going over there with a reasonable explanation, she glanced at the rearview mirror, then changed lanes, making the turn leading to Marcus’s condo. Less than ten minutes later she pulled into his condo’s parking lot. Nicole checked her makeup in the rearview mirror. She thought about the condoms, which were already becoming more difficult to find, hidden in the Kisses in the rose cookie jar. Slipping the square packet from her purse pocket, where it had been stuffed between real estate brochures, she then slid it into the side slot of her car door.

  Feeling heat lick across the skin on her cheeks, Nicole knew that showing up with condoms stuffed in her pocket would mean only one thing to Marcus: She’d come for sex. And although she truly had, she felt a little embarrassed to admit it. Hell, she couldn’t even wait until tonight. She was a junkie, and she needed her fix.

  Nicole left the car without looking back, flicking on the alarm as she mounted the stairs to his second-story place, glancing once toward his covered parking spot to make sure he was home. She smiled when she saw his shiny black truck.

  A bit self-conscious of her figure, Nicole shifted her hips, running her hands over the thin cotton of her summer dress, adjusting the thin straps so the sloping neckline showed little more than the shadowed valley between her breasts.

  Taking a calming breath, she pressed her finger to the silver button of the bell, then held her breath as she waited for Marcus to appear. A second later the door was pulled open. He stood just inside the entrance, holding the edge of the door with one hand and a folded newspaper in the other.

  “Hey, Nic. What are you doing here?” His eyes were round with surprise, but his wide mouth turned into a pleasant grin.

  “I was out and I thought I’d drop by and say hi.” She felt her throat go dry. “Hi,” she said as she lifted her hand and gave him a small wave. Why don’t I just scream, “I came to screw you”?

  “Come on in.” Marcus stepped back, giving her room to pass and allowing the springtime sunshine to filter into the dim interior of his condo. Golden droplets of light sparkled upon his naked chest.

  Her attention was drawn immediately to what he was wearing, or the lack thereof. Wide, muscular shoulders, contoured pecs marred only by flat, brown nipples. Her gaze adored the line of hair creeping from his tapered abdomen beneath the waistline of his boxer shorts. Nicole bit back a groan as she lifted her eyes back to his face. She didn’t miss the fact that the bulge beneath the thin layer of his shorts began to rise.

  “I don’t want to bother you,” she said.

  “No bother. I’ve got on ESPN.” He lifted the paper. “I was just checking the stats on a few college players who will be getting drafted today.” He waited for her to enter before he closed the door and walked toward the kitchen. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” She sat down facing Marcus as he moved around some boxes stacked in his open floor plan. Seeing his packed things took her aback. It was the first real proof she’d seen of his leaving. A knot tightened in her belly.

  Nicole cleared her throat. “Do you have plans today?”

  “Not really.” He poured himself a cup, then glanced back at her. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

  Nicole thought she heard the hint of suggestion in his tone. Hell, yes. She wanted something, all right. Though it was steaming hot and a rich shade of brown, it wasn’t coffee. The response made her nipples hard. It was Marcus, walking about mostly naked and supremely male.

  She swallowed down the lust causing her throat to go dry. “Nah, I’m fine.”

  “Yes, you are,” Marcus said, appreciation thick in his tone. He came back to his glass table, turned a chair backward, and sat down, straddling the back. Resting his bare arms over the top, he made sure the cup of coffee didn’t tilt.

  Lust bloomed to full glory. Moisture wet her panties beneath the cotton of her summer dress. Her gaze drifted to the leg holes of his boxers, gaping wide open with the spread-thigh position he’d taken. The condo was too dim, and shadows hid the promise of pleasure behind his baggy undergarments.

  Shaking her head, Nicole shoved aside the wanton within her and decided that spending time with Marcus could possibly cleanse her of her ever-present desire to have him sink inch by oh-so-ever-long inch inside of her. Moving from the arm of the couch, she slid into the seat beside him and glanced down at the spread of newspapers he’d scattered on the table.

  Her gaze caught on the want ads and the listings of open houses being held that weekend. That’s where I need to be, she thought with a repressed sigh. Why should she wait to start shopping for her new life? Her dream house was out there, waiting for her. Roving over the paper, her eyes traveled to the sports section.

  As a player’s agent, Marcus had high stakes in who got drafted and in what round. “Any prospects?” She shifted the paper so she could read a list of names, some of which had been circled with red ink. She recognized a few of the names from sport shows and magazines.

  “Yeah. A few. I met with Jay Evans a few weeks back. I think he should go early in the first round.” Marcus shrugged. “He’ll sign with me once I’ve moved. Wants the name Dynamic behind his agent, and the prestige the firm holds.”

  “That’s the player we had dinner with last month?”

  Marcus nodded.

  There was silence for a moment before Nicole went on: “I guess most of the big-name players don’t want an agent who works on his own in a cow town like Sacramento.” She didn’t mean it as a question, but hearing the regret in her voice, she attempted to distract herself by glancing down at the paper. “Jay’s hot.”

  “Hot?” Marcus asked, arching a dark eyebrow.

  “Er, a good player.”

  Marcus smiled. The midnight shade of his eyes sparkled as if full of stars. “He’s good, all right. I haven’t seen a young kid with feet or hands like his in a while. I can’t wait to see what he gets done in the NFL.”

  “So now you wait and see what number he gets drafted?”

  “Pretty much. Once I’m his agent, it’ll make a difference in the contract we negotiate. I’m waiting on a call. Once it comes in, we can go get some lunch if you’re hungry.”

  “Okay. I’m pretty hungry.”

  “Oh, yeah? What did you eat this morning?”

  “Nothing. I went for a run and forgot all about breakfast.” Nicole glanced away as warmth spread long fingers of pink across her cheeks. Just being close to Marcus did silly things to her insides, making her feel nervous and excited, sensual and frustrated all at once.

  His strong hand touched her chin, his thumb turning her face back to his. He caressed her lower lip, his breathing husky, deepened with passion.

  His slow decent to her lips was halted by the ringing of his phone.

  It rang three sharp chirps before he tore himself away. A rush of disappointment hit Nicole in the gut as he turned, answering his cell and reaching for an open file. He jotted down notes as he spoke to the caller. I’ve always hated cells. I’m getting rid of mine.

  His tone changed from bedroom to boardroom in a single beat of her heart. She heard his voice but didn’t really hear his words or care about making sense of his side of the conversation. She watched his profile. His brows creased; then a grin widened his lush lips.

  Lips that’d been about to kiss her moments ago.

  Crossing her legs, Nicole tried to dull the ache between her thighs, knowing it would take more than that to sate her desires. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to feel a sting of pain, but even that didn’t lesson the sharp edge of lust.

  A few moments later Marcus folded his phone shut and slipped it onto the glass table with a slight click. “All’s good.” He rose, flipped the chair forward in one smooth motion, and slid it beneath the clear-top table. “Let me get dressed and we’ll head out and find something to fill you.”

  Nicole gasped, catching the double meaning in his words.

  He sauntered several feet down the hall toward
his bedroom before he paused, tossing her a glance over his shoulder. Nicole met his gaze, tempted to rise and follow him. Determined to prove to herself she had a tiny shred of control, she held her breath as the moment was suspended between them.

  The sizzle of awareness snapped when he turned away and disappeared behind his bedroom door. This was why she’d come; to be with Marcus. She should walk down the hall and catch him naked. Perhaps he was even waiting for her to join him.

  A pulse of longing leaped to life as Nicole fought to catch her breath, which seemed to linger and burn deep in her lungs.

  Marcus emerged minutes later wearing gray sweat shorts and a white T-shirt with a small Raiders logo above his heart. She knew he still loved the Raiders and wondered if he missed playing for them. Surely after three years of belonging to a team he must have been disappointed when an injury to his knee caused him to retire early. He should’ve had a longer career.

  He’d used his business degree well, and opened an agency using both his name and his contacts within the organization to establish himself in the field. He’d done pretty well, despite being tucked away in a relatively small town like Sacramento, where professional sports graced the city with only the River Cats, the Monarchs, and the Kings. Well enough, in fact, that he’d garnered the attention of a large agency in Atlanta. The job offer was too good to pass up, she thought, understanding why he’d accepted it.

  Nicole was proud of his accomplishments. She’d seen his struggle and knew what drive it’d taken to reach his dreams. Still, there was a small part inside of her that didn’t want him to leave. But as his friend, she’d never ask him to stay. He had a right to pursue his aspirations. She wanted it for him, too.

  “Everything all right? You still want to go eat?” he asked, giving her a quizzical look.

  “I’m fine. Just daydreaming. Let’s go.”

  “I’ll drive,” he said, snatching his keys from the counter.

  “Sure.” It was better he drove anyway, since she doubted she’d be able to concentrate on the road with him seated beside her and the need to touch him as strong as it was.

  She followed him out the door, then waited while he locked up. He pressed a button on the key chain, unlocking the doors to his truck. He walked to her side, smiling as he opened her door. Nicole’s heart flipped over in her chest. She knew she was in trouble. Deep trouble.

  She pretended her heart didn’t rev and slid into the seat. He went around the truck and slipped in beside her.

  The music came on as soon as the engine purred to life, Mary J.—and Nicole’s excuse to visit him. She smiled as Mary J. cried out a sensual song of making it in life without love, all on her own, but Nicole could feel the hint of loneliness in the singer’s voice, which hit oh-so-close to home.

  Marcus maneuvered the truck onto the street, then weaved his way through the traffic with expert skill.

  “So what do you feel like eating for lunch?” he asked, tossing her a quick glance.

  Nicole looked at him, one strong hand wrapped around the steering wheel, his finger tapping the leather binding in time with the smooth beat. The smile on his pronounced profile exuded charm.

  “You choose,” she replied. She knew what she wanted in her mouth, and it had nothing at all to do with food. “Drive slow.”

  Nicole pulled her shoulder belt and tucked it behind her, shifting in the seat so she could get closer to Marcus. She touched his thigh right where the hem of his shorts reached. Running her finger along the edge, she toyed with the material.

  His fingers stopped tapping in rhythm with the beat, and instead held the wheel with a tight-knuckled grip. The bulge at his groin grew beneath the thick gray cloth, and she heard the faint shift in his breathing, a rasp of air leaving his lungs.

  “You know, Marcus, you could take a long route,” Nicole said, sliding her fingers up the material, feeling the bunching of his muscular thighs as she slowly skimmed up his leg toward the elastic waistband of his sweat shorts.

  “What are you up to, Nic?” His breath was jagged.

  “Going to lunch with a friend,” she teased. She slid her hand under his loose T-shirt, running her fingernails lightly over his skin, feeling with the pads of her fingers the line of hair descending into his shorts. His stomach tightened, leaving a narrow gap at the top of his shorts.

  She took advantage of the opening and slid her hand down, fingering the edge of his boxers beneath his shorts and the hard length of his cock that rose to meet her exploring hand. Knowing how aroused he was heightened Nicole’s own desire. The need to touch him, to feel him, to taste him, became overpowering.

  With the back of her hand she lowered the band of elastic keeping him bound, revealing the smooth, satiny head of his cock. She brushed her thumb over the small slit at the top, drawing out a pearl of moisture and a husky growl from Marcus. She used the tiny drop to dampen his skin. Biting her bottom lip, she wondered how it would taste upon her tongue.

  “Damn, Nic. You sure know how to convince me to drive slow.” She saw him ease off the gas pedal and felt the decrease of momentum in the truck.

  She shoved the shorts lower, allowing the full length of him to be free, then curled her fingers around his shaft and stroked down to the base and up again, drawing another bead of precum from his erection. Again she swirled her thumb in it, using it as lubricant as she stroked him, turning her hand as she cupped his balls.

  “How’s your concentration these days?”

  He tossed her a quick glance. “Pretty good. Why?”

  Nicole bent forward.

  “Oh,” Marcus groaned when her lips brushed against his flesh.

  The skin on his head felt like satin on her lips. She lightly brushed over him. Wanting to taste him, she opened her mouth and closed around him. He smelled like soap and cologne and tasted salty, heady, and masculine. She swirled her tongue over the ridge, feeling his pulse throb against her lips.

  Opening her mouth, she took him deeper—so deep he brushed against the back of her throat, filling her with the heat of his solid cock. She sucked as her tongue lapped against him, caressing the curve of his width as she lifted her head, then lowered again, taking him in, feeling the satin of his penis caress the roof of her mouth.

  Insatiable, Nicole massaged his tightly drawn sac in the palm of one hand. She used the other to stroke against his shaft, where his length prohibited her from taking him in all the way. Up, then down. She lifted until the shiny tip of his dick slipped from her wet lips, her tongue running across his bathed flesh, her teeth nibbling and nipping at him.

  Moisture seeped from her sex onto her panties. She was hot, and damned wet. But she wanted to please Marcus more than she wanted to appease her own hungry flesh. Besides, she was getting off just from the taste of him, the fullness of his hard flesh pressing into her mouth, and the broken grunts and harsh pants escaping his lungs. Her power heightened her arousal.

  She rocked her body forward so her legs rubbed together, squeezing her thighs. The pressure of her tight muscles created a jolt of pleasure of her own, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge to climax.

  With an urgency kindled by her need to make him cum, Nicole leaned into him again. She felt his body tremble as he gave up control, while trying with desperation to keep focused on the road. He groaned from the center of his gut, a sound that nearly did Nicole in. She whimpered, allowing her lids to drift closed as she feasted upon his body. Her hardened nipples brushed the smooth leather of the seat.

  Nicole wrapped her hand around the base of his erection, holding him still while she moved, using the undulations of the road to set her speed. She lifted her lips, catching the ridge where his sensation centered. A guttural sound escaped his lips. His uneven panting drove her wild. Tightening her lips, she amplified the pressure of her hand and increased the rhythm of her mouth.

  “I’m going to drive us . . . into another car.” Marcus paused to suck air between his teeth. “I can’t drive . . .
if you’re making me . . . lose my mind,” Marcus managed to say between jagged breaths.

  Nicole felt the truck shift lanes. Lifting enough to whisper, Nicole teased him, “Stay away from big rigs; they’ll be able to see right in.”

  “Yeah, and be jealous . . . as hell. I have to pull over . . . before I cause an accident.”

  She responded by taking him into her mouth again.

  Marcus forgot about signaling as he shifted lanes, causing the car behind him to lay on the horn. He pulled into the empty parking lot of a business center deserted on Saturday.

  Not caring how he angled, he stopped beneath a tree to shade them from the springtime sun, shifted into park, and dropped his hands from the wheel as he leaned his head back against his seat.

  Glancing down at the back of Nicole’s head moving in long, steady strokes up and down his cock, he wanted to touch her the way she touched him, to bury his erection within the welcoming folds of her tight, slick heat.

  Her fingers caressing in time with her tongue, his muscles begged for release—release lingering like the ball of fire in the sky at sunset, just beyond reach.

  He lifted his hand to her head and gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then ran his thumb down the slope of her cheek-bone to her damp, open lips encasing his dick. He had the urge to wrap his hands around his base and give a few quick jerks, ending his suffering, but the torment was pure heaven.

  Dropping his hand away from her face, he moved to her shoulder, feeling the muscles in her neck work as she increased, then slowed her pace. He skimmed down her back, the thin material of her cotton dress the only thing keeping him from feeling the smoothness of her caramel skin. He lowered his hand and released his seat belt, then hers. She fell forward, her slight weight causing his thoughts to scatter.

  His fingers found the bottom of her skirt and pulled it up, revealing a slip of pink lace panties. Not bothering to pull them down, he slid the narrow strip of cloth to the side and dipped his finger into a pot of melted milk chocolate, as tempting and as sweet as the purest candy he’d ever tasted.