Chocolate Kisses

by Francis Ray

  Trying to sit up straight to avoid leaning into Marcus while he drove, Nicole listened to them chat about school classes and majors. Though tamed by her sister’s presence, desire hummed in her system, intensified with every rub of her leg against his hard thigh, with every jostling of the truck that brought her into contact with him.

  Maybe her intense need sprang from the fact that it had been two weeks since they’d made love. Or perhaps it was the knowledge that their time remaining was so limited. Awareness of Marcus beside her was like a potent drug to an addict. She needed him; she wanted him more.

  Nicole was relieved when the truck pulled up in front of her parents’ home and they all got out to say their good-byes. Marcus gave Natalie a quick hug, commenting on how nice it was to see her again, then got back in the truck to wait while Nicole walked her sister to the door.

  “What’s going on with you two?” Natalie asked.

  “We’re friends.”

  “You’ve been friends for years, but I’ve never seen him hold you like that before.”

  “We were dancing.”

  Natalie laughed. “Oh, dancing’s what it’s called now, huh? Holding hands in parking lots?”

  “We’re friends, Nat,” Nicole stated, trying to keep the quaver from her voice.

  “You know what they say: Friends make the best lovers.”

  Nicole forced a laugh of her own. If you only knew. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She kissed her sister’s cheek, then skipped off the porch, heading back to the truck, where Marcus—her friend and lover—waited for her. “Tell Mama I’ll come for brunch after church tomorrow,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  “Good night,” Natalie said with a wink just before she stepped inside the door and disappeared into the shadowed interior of the house.

  Nicole hurried into the truck, smiling at Marcus as she shut the door. The alcohol buzz had faded, replaced by the purr of sexual awareness.

  Marcus could tell by the shimmer in Nicole’s eyes what she intended as he pulled onto the road and retraced their tracks back to the freeway. Blood surged to his cock, making him pulse with want. Gripping the steering wheel, he glanced at her, her dark eyes glowing with hunger. Being in his truck was a cruel reminder of when she’d taken him into her mouth and nearly caused an accident.

  When she shifted on the seat toward him, he put up his hand to stall her, though his dick bucked in protest beneath his denims.

  “God, I want you,” he said.

  She flashed him a smile and licked her lush lips, so he added, “Not while I’m driving, Nic. If I drive like I did last time, I’m sure to get pulled over, and I’ve had a beer. Facing a cop with a hard-on and liquor on my breath probably wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

  “You’re right,” she whispered. In the pale light of the full moon and the warm glow of the overhead streetlights they passed beneath, he could see a slight stain of blush cross her brown skin. Her gaze dropped to his lap and lingered.

  “But you’ll come in, won’t you? You won’t walk me to the door and then leave me wanting? Not like last week.”

  “No, Nic. Not like last week, I’ll come in tonight.” If she only knew what he had in store for her—but it was a surprise. He tried to lighten the stifling mood loitering in the truck’s cab. He slid a glance in her direction, caught her gaze, then winked before he slanted his eyes back to the dotted yellow lines on the road. “Did I leave you wanting last week?” he teased.

  “Um, yeah.” She turned away, staring out the window, mumbling, “You’re a cruel, cruel man.”

  “I promised I’d make it up to you. I don’t break promises.”

  She shrugged but didn’t say anything. After a while she broke the silence. “Natalie was asking questions.”

  “What kind of questions?” he asked, fighting back a smile.

  “She kept hinting that there is something going on with us.”

  “There is.”

  “Yeah, but I know she’ll think we’re involved.”

  “And what would be wrong with that?”

  Again, the cab was swathed in silence. The stereo had been turned down so low he could just hear the soft hum of music but not make out the lyrics. There was the sound of his tires moving over the pavement, and the muted sound of wind as they cut like a streak of metal through the spring night.

  Nicole took a deep breath, then sighed. “But we’re not involved. Not the way she thinks.”

  “What did you tell her?” he asked.

  “I told her we were friends. But she didn’t believe me. She thinks there’s more to it.”

  “Nic, I don’t care what she thinks. I don’t care what anyone thinks. This is about us. You and me. About what we want. What’s right for us.” He looked at her again, hoping to see the brilliance in her eyes alight with the same joy he felt. It was like gazing into a mirror.

  They drove without talking the rest of the way down Highway 50 and as he maneuvered the quiet streets of Nicole’s quaint neighborhood downtown. When he pulled into her narrow driveway, he shifted to park and shut off the ignition. Bounding out of the cab, he rounded the truck and opened her door. Marcus took Nicole’s hand in his, stroking his thumb across the smooth skin on her palm while he helped her out. Once her feet were on the ground he pulled her into his embrace.

  He whispered into her ear, “This feels right to me, Nic.” And he felt her body quiver in reply.

  She snuggled closer into his embrace; he could feel her head nod beneath his chin as she mumbled, “Me too,” her warm breath caressing his skin.

  “Let’s go inside,” he said, releasing her and stepping away. He clasped her hand in his and led her to her front door. He withdrew his key ring and unlocked it.

  “I forgot you still have my key,” she commented, tightening her fingers in his.

  “Yep, ever since you were out of town last year and I watered your plants. Do you want it back?” he asked, dangling the key ring between them.

  She smiled in an interesting combination of innocent sweetness with a dash of sexy she-devil. “Go ahead and keep it.” A becoming blush crept over her cheeks.

  Suppressing his grin, he held the door open for her to enter.

  When she went to flick on a light, he placed his hand over hers. “No, Nic. Come here.” He took her hand, bringing her soft palm to his face and placing a brief, yet surprisingly intimate kiss to her skin. “I want to show you something.”

  Marcus led her down the dimly lit hallway, where the sweet floral scent of roses wafted in the air. From the corner of his eye he could see how her gaze widened in surprise. He felt her ever-so-slight hesitation as he guided her toward her bedroom.

  He understood the significance, for they had yet to have sex in a bed—a gesture that closely symbolized lovemaking, and a commitment they’d agreed they weren’t going to make. He wondered if she was apprehensive about taking such a step.

  They reached the bedroom door. Silvery shards of moonlight filtered through the half-closed miniblinds and cast the room into a pale, milky darkness. Marcus left her side, withdrawing a lighter from his pocket.

  Nicole watched as Marcus strode from candle to candle, setting each tiny wick aglow with flame until her entire room was bathed in gold. The vanilla scent lifted in the air, mixing with the strong fragrance of spring roses. Though she wondered where the floral scent came from, she couldn’t keep her gaze from tracking Marcus’s every move. His wide shoulders moved like rock beneath river current, as the smooth material of his shirt shifted over his vast, muscular back.

  Nicole withheld the questions dancing in her mind. She didn’t wish to do anything that might spoil the sensual mood settling over the room with the warmth of sun-colored fire. The pale, cool light of the moon was replaced by yellow and gold flickering shadows.

  The ivory of her bedsheets and comforter was dotted with red. Narrowing her eyes, Nicole took a tentative step closer. Rose petals littered her bed—soft pinks, vibrant reds, tones the color of rich bur
gundy. Each silken petal had been delicately removed from its bud and scattered about, creating a soft bed of roses.

  A surprised smile widened her lips. Her heart constricted. “What did you do, Marcus?” she asked, not suppressing the wonder in her voice.

  Marcus grinned like a cat that had found cream. “Candles and roses, Nic. You deserve candles and roses.” His voice was deep, husky. He lit the last candle. Though he stood on the opposite side of her queen-size bed, his heated gaze was like a caress to her skin. The dark depths of his eyes bored into her soul. Her heart felt exposed to him. She trembled. Moisture seeped onto her panties, released from the ache between her legs that heightened from her knowing what Marcus had planned.

  “When did you . . .” Her voice trailed off. She released his gaze and allowed her eyes to settle on the bed.

  “When you were at the club,” he said softly. “I promised I’d make leaving you . . . wanting up to you. And I mean to keep that promise. Here. Tonight.”

  Nicole’s gaze snapped back to his. A mischievous smile played around the curve of his lips. In long, smooth strides he rounded the bed, never tearing his gaze from hers, and came to stand before her.

  He framed her face in the palms of his hands, his strong fingers fanning out into the curls about her temples. His thumbs brushed along the underside of her jawbone. He slanted his head, her lips yearning for a taste of him, for the overwhelming feel of him crushing against her.

  It took a lifetime—forever—for him to close the distance. When he kissed her, it was nothing more than a light stroke of lip upon lip as he feathered his attention across her skin. Her knees buckled and she collapsed into him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. The steady cadence of his pulse throbbed beneath her palm.

  There was such tenderness in his kiss. The affection was her undoing. Tears sprang to her eyes, yet she forced them away, willing only to savor the moment and forget about regret—regret that with each used condom, their future dwindled.

  Marcus’s lips hovered above her, his tongue smoothing a path across her mouth, whetting her palate, increasing her appetite for him. Moaning, she gave way to the sensations stirring within her blood, to the building lust hinting of thunderstorms, to the tidal wave of desire.

  When she neared begging, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into the depths of her mouth, thrusting, seeking, exploring—staking claim. She met his tongue with hers, the tips touching, then retreating, swirling and dancing as if in an ancient mating ritual.

  Marcus slid a hand down from her cheek, coddling her shoulders, lower to her breast, where her pert nipple stood astute beneath her thin shirt and pink lace bra. His thumb found the peak and rubbed over it, tweaking it between his fingers, before his hand fell to the waistband of her suede skirt. Deft fingers unfastened the top button and, with a flick, released the small zipper.

  Marcus slowed the kiss, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, lightly caressing a trail of dampness to the sensitive skin beneath her ear, down her throat, to the hollow of her neck. Nicole’s head lolled to the side, her knees weak, her inner thighs trembling.

  Before she knew it, her shirt was pulled over her head, his hands urging her skirt off of her rounded hips, leaving her standing in nothing but a skimpy lace bra and tiny matching pink panties. Nicole moved her hands to Marcus’s shirt, wanting to divest him of his clothing, wanting him naked against her. His warm palm settled over hers.

  “Tonight is about you, Nic,” he murmured between laps from his tongue to her skin.

  “I want you,” she whispered, her breathing, sharp and eager. She inhaled his masculine scent, a perfect contrast to the feminine scent of vanilla candles and the lushness of roses. He was musky with the subtle hint of sweat and soap.

  Marcus chuckled against her flesh, an action that sent his vibrations pulsing through her body and centering deep in her gut. “I’m glad.” He kissed her thoroughly. “Mmmm, but in due time.”

  Marcus stood back, releasing his hold. She wobbled before she found her balance without him. He removed his shirt, unbuckled his belt, released the fly on his jeans until only his boxers kept his straining erection from freedom. He made no move to allow the glory of his hardened cock liberation from its cotton prison.

  The muscles of his pecs bunched beneath the perfect shade of rich chocolate skin, the golden rays of candlelight flickering and glistening on his naked chest. Nicole’s gaze drifted over the wonder of his body, to the path of curly dark hair gathering at his naval and descending. His body reacted to her open appraisal, bucking behind the cloth.

  Bringing her gaze back to his, Nicole gasped and stepped away, shocked by the supreme intensity of his stare. “Marcus?” she whispered, not knowing what to make of the depth of his eyes, feeling it sweep through her body, find her soul, and capture it.

  He stalked her like a wild beast did prey, stepping toward her, closing the slight distance she’d created by stepping away. It was not fear that made her retreat, yet she trembled. After tonight, she knew deep down she’d never be the same. Letting Marcus go was going to break her heart.

  The backs of her legs hit her bed, and she stumbled onto her mattress, crushing rose petals under her weight. Marcus kept coming, a slight smile waltzing across his face, his dimples deepening. The mattress dipped as he knelt on the edge, but Nicole scooted to the center, dizzy with want, awash with the heady scent of spring.

  His strong hands wrapped around her ankles, his fingers stroking the skin on the pads of her feet, working the muscles on her calves. Lifting one foot, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her arch.

  “Marcus, what are you doing?” she asked through a mouthful of giggles. She leaned back on her elbows, her hands brushing against dozens of silken flower blossoms. Their scent—stronger now as their thin skins broke and seeped onto the bed—permeated the air.

  He licked up her ankle, then on the inside of her calf. “Tasting you. Mmm, sweet. You’re like honey.”

  There was no room for melancholy in the rise of pleasure his touch evoked. She gave herself over to it, forgetting everything but him pleasing her.

  His mouth traveled up her leg, passed her opened knees to the quivering flesh between her thighs, nipping at her skin. Marcus’s hands explored, caressed, and stroked. The glide of his tongue moved up her inner thigh; then he openmouthed kissed the crotch of her panties over her damp and eager vagina.

  Feeling at ease even with Marcus poised between her legs, she allowed her eyelids to slide closed as her arms buckled, sending her shoulders to the bed upon a pillow of roses. A slow breath escaped her parted lips. “Marcus.”

  Marcus smiled with triumph. “I’m here, Nic,” he responded, slipping his fingers into the top of her lacy panties. He worked the material down her hips and past the triangular patch of pubic hair that glistened, damp, proof of her arousal. His cock thickened into a painful erection. As he slid the underwear past her vagina, his thumb brushed against her clit, eliciting a whimper and a tremble from Nicole.

  He loved the way her body responded to his touch. To him. With her panties out of the way, Marcus knelt between her open legs. He lowered his mouth to her, kissing the wetness, two fingers sinking into her welcoming, hot flesh, spreading her labia so that his tongue could find her clit. The aroma of her sex mingled with the scent of roses and the vanilla from the tapers he’d arranged around the room.

  “M-M-Marcus.” A cross between a moan and his name.

  Lapping at her, he swirled his tongue against her skin, devoured her essence, thrusting into her as he would if it were his dick. A sheen of sweat broke out on his shoulders from holding himself in check. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman more. He’d never guessed that pleasuring her could bring about satisfaction of his own. His own climax threatened and he’d yet to enter her.

  “I want you, Marcus,” she said. Her voice sounded as if it were about to snap.

  Lifting his eyes, he glanced up her body, her caramel skin shimmering in the
shadows and diffused light of the twinkling candles. Her body was damp, her breasts firm and full in her bra. Delicate rose petals stuck to her skin. She was beautiful and bewitching, her alluring body ripe and humming on the edge of orgasm.

  Marcus slid his fingers into her, curling them forward, finding her G-spot. His tongue found the nub of her clit and he circled it, then nibbled.

  “Marcus!” she screamed, her body shaking violently as her muscles clamped down, convulsing on his fingers in tiny spasms, each shudder of her climax driving him closer to the brink of sanity.

  While Nicole lay relaxed, her eyes closed, her body still quivering from the aftereffects of crescendo, Marcus rid himself of his boxers, tossing them to the floor to join the rest of their discarded clothing. He moved up her body, kissing the slight mound of flesh beneath her belly button, her tight abs, and her ribs until he came to the lace of her bra.

  Slipping one hand beneath her, he twisted the hook, releasing her breasts for him to feast upon. Cupping a round globe of flesh in his hand, he planted a kiss to her puckered brown nipple, then opened his mouth and drew it in. Her hands landed upon his shoulders, holding him to her. Her back arched to greet him. He couldn’t help smiling at Nicole’s tender urgings.

  He left her nipple and trailed kisses to her face. Finding her mouth, he seized it. Supported on his elbows, he bracketed her head. Marcus could think of nothing but being one with his friend—his lover. Nicole’s knees bent, drawing him into the cradle of her thighs. Then she wrapped her supple legs around his lower back, holding him to her. His cock brushed against her wet core. In mindless need, he plunged inside of her, grinding pubic hair to pubic hair.

  Being inside of her was calming to his soul, quiet, peaceful, like when a winter rainstorm turned to snow.

  Marcus drank in her cries of pleasure, answering with a gruff moan that echoed through his chest. Slowly he withdrew and entered again, finding a rhythm too staid to bring about a quick end.