Chocolate Kisses

by Francis Ray

  Standing naked in her bedroom, Nicole glanced at the bed, neatly made with the two-week-old bedding. A pale sliver of yellow seeped in through the blinds, casting an insipid gold light on the off-white cloth. She was temped to delve into the bed for warmth, but looking at the smooth Egyptian cotton and raw silk, she thought it appeared plain and lonesome without Marcus in it.

  Again, the sting of tears threatened behind her eyes. Holding off the flow of sorrow, Nicole thought about the feel of Marcus’s touch, the softness of his kiss, and the passion in his embrace. Needing to feel closer to him, she turned from her empty bed toward the closet.

  Nicole retrieved the folded off-white comforter that was stained with splotches of pink rose petals, and scented with vanilla candles and the heady fragrance of their sex. Refusing to throw it out when it’d been replaced, she was glad to have it now. She shook out the folds and tossed it around her naked shoulders, snuggling into the familiar feel.

  Back in the living room, Nicole settled onto the couch, securely encased in the comforter. She closed her eyes, instantly conjuring up images of Marcus.

  She couldn’t pretend, despite how she tried, that he was with her. A strangled cry spilled from her tight throat. Given freedom, one sob turned into many and she wept out the sorrow she’d contained for so long.

  “Why’d you have to go?” she asked, knowing in her heart the answer.

  How could she possibly begrudge him the life he deserved? She’d seen his struggle to make it in the NFL, only to be forced into retirement by a devastating knee injury. She’d seen him work his way up as a sports agent, building a reputation and clientele he could be proud of.

  She’d longed to ask him to stay. To give up the job offer that could potentially make him millions. She’d been prepared to beg, if need be, for him to remain in Sacramento and by her side. But she’d swallowed down the plea because she knew in her heart of hearts she would never hold him back from his dreams. If she tried, one day he’d grow to resent her. She’d never back him into a corner. “I’d have gone with you,” she whispered.

  Her sobs turned to muffled cries, then faded to whimpers. The long night and painful day finally took their toll. Her lids flush against her cheeks, the last sob escaping, she cried herself to sleep.

  Marcus paced his room until he’d worn a trail in the carpet. So he walked the halls of the hotel heading to the pool and weight room. He even considered working out to burn the rapid growth of his agitation and anger. But workouts were meant to be shared with Nicole. He kept walking.

  Under the half-moon sky, no stars were visible, all drowned out by the city lights. But he knew they were up there. Just as he knew he didn’t belong in Atlanta at all.

  “Fuck!” He swiped a palm over his face, scrubbing away the mask of indifference to be replaced with what he was truly feeling—love.

  Love for Nicole laced with a whole hell of a lot of irritation about his situation. Where he should have been was three thousand miles away, in the arms of his woman, not pacing the deserted hotel lobby trying to figure out what to do.

  “What am I doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  Is this the step I want to take to further my career? Hell no! The answer came roaring back at him. He had a lucrative, well-respected agency of his own that he was damn proud of. So what if the position with the Dynamic Agency would offer him bigger-name clients and more prestige. It wouldn’t offer him self-respect. It sure as hell didn’t offer him Nicole.

  He didn’t want to own a condo, but a large home designed for a wife and kids. For the family he so longed to embrace when the right woman came along. Only she had. She’d always been there, and he wasn’t willing to risk losing her—if it wasn’t already too late. “I belong in Sacramento. I belong with Nicole.”

  Turning on his heel, he rode the elevator to his room. Once there, he gathered up his wallet, briefcase, some loose change, and his household keys, along with his cell phone.

  He flipped the phone and punched the preprogrammed number to the airline. “Yeah, I need the first flight out of Atlanta flying to Sacramento International Airport.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tapping his knuckles against the door for a third time, Marcus sucked in a deep breath of the balmy air, unusually humid for the Sacramento Valley, and wondered what could be taking Nicole so long.

  Clearly she was home, judging by her open garage door and the fact that her car was inside and his truck was parked in her driveway. Stepping from the shaded stoop, Marcus squinted against the bright ball of fire lifting into the fathomless, pale blue sky, and scanned the empty street for any sign of her.

  He spotted a splotch of color in the back of his truck out of the corner of his eye. Marcus glanced into the bed, which was filled with several bags of topsoil, potting mix, and compost. On the floor closer to the cab were about half a dozen flats of vibrant flowering plants. Lifting the bouquet of roses he held in his hand, he laughed.

  Gardening, he decided, rounding the paved and cobblestone path toward the back of the house. He reached the chest-high wooden fence and scanned the backyard.

  His gaze fell upon Nicole a heartbeat later, kneeling in the grass with her back to him and her hands enfolded in the rich brown soil. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, though several stray ringlets clung to the damp skin on her neck. A pair of headphones circled her head.

  Nicole’s hips swayed to the beat drumming through the tiny speakers, her shapely round ass slightly rotating. Her voice drifted across the ten-yard space of grass.

  The sensual sound of her hum resonated in Marcus’s gut. The sweet echo grew louder as she mixed in a scattering of words. “Don’t need him,” she sang out. Pausing, she scooped up something beside her and lifted it to her lips. A medium-size plastic bottle of water, the condensation glistening in the sun. Draining the bottle, she tossed it aside, humming again.

  Watching her slender body move to the music only she could hear, Marcus thought about this moment. Hell, he could think about little else.

  He’d caught a couple hours of sleep, here and there, on the long red-eye flight back across the country. He had a cup of coffee during the short layover in Dallas, and despite not sleeping more than five hours combined over the last two nights, he felt exhilarated.

  After running his cell phone until the battery pack had given out, he finally had everything all arranged. Chuck had picked him up at the airport and driven him to the real estate office, where he’d signed the needed papers to make sure his plan went smoothly.

  Everything went as planned. He could only hope the rest of the day was as successful as this morning. There were just two final things that needed to be done.

  Marcus walked away without Nicole noticing. He let himself into the house, making his way to the kitchen.

  Grabbing the ceramic cookie jar, he slid it in front of him, setting his bouquet aside. When he removed the lid the scent of chocolate wafted into the air, giving him a nostalgic glimpse of love.

  He knew how he felt, but what if for Nicole nothing had changed? He shook off a moment of doubt, concern over her reaction tightening in his gut. There was no time for that now. Counting all the remaining condoms, he removed them from the cookie jar and slipped them into the garbage under the kitchen sink. He then dropped the surprise he’d gotten for Nicole inside with the Kisses, swirling them together before he replaced the ceramic lid. Pushing it back to its original location, Marcus grabbed the flowers and exited the kitchen.

  Finding his truck keys on a side table, he dropped them into his pocket. His gaze swept over her furnishings, a welling of emotion rising in his chest. He left her house and made his way back to the fence.

  Her hips had slowed. She no longer sang out but mumbled low and husky, the sweet sound like a siren’s song.

  Marcus plucked off a rosebud from the bouquet. Taking the blossom, he tossed it in her direction. It landed by her side.

  She didn’t notice.

  Tugging off anothe
r blossom, he tossed it, too. Still she didn’t detect his presence. He thrust another at her but got the same response—nothing.

  Growling in frustration, Marcus grabbed a handful of flower petals and tossed them over the fence, but they landed around her in a rainshower of color everywhere but where Nicole knelt on the ground. With her head tipped back, he could see that her eyes were closed against the intensity of the sun, her caramel skin shimmering golden and bright. Her lush lips were parted and glistening, and moved to some song playing from the earphones.

  Frustration a brewing beast in his gut, he grabbed a handful of rosebuds from the bouquet, tearing them from their stems, and tossed them at Nicole’s feet. A single bloom went astray and hit her on the back of her head.

  “Ahh!” She let out a startled scream, ripped the headphones from her head, and twisted around to see who’d hit her. “Oh, Marcus, you scared me to death.” Her faced changed from angry surprise to something more akin to joy as she struggled to her feet and wiped the dirt from her hands against the sweat material of her shorts.

  “Sorry, Nic. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, opening the wooden gate and walking through. “Or hit you. You okay?”

  Nicole lifted her soiled fingers to her head and rubbed the spot where the flower had struck her. “I’m fine. But . . . what are you doing here? I thought you were in Atlanta.”

  “I was.”

  “Yeah, so what happened?”

  Marcus strolled across the yard, pausing a mere step from her, mulling over what his response should be. “I came back.”

  Nicole could scarcely breathe past the lump tightening her throat and the crazed surge of her heartbeat. Her heightened state of alarm when the flower had hit her was nothing compared to the awareness of having Marcus—in the flesh—standing before her.

  “Why?” she squeaked, not intending for it to come out like the croak of a toad, but it did anyway. She cleared her throat, to little avail, and tried again. “Why’d you come back?” she inquired just above a whisper.

  “Something was missing in Atlanta,” he replied in an even tone, his warm breath swooshing across her skin and causing a shiver to run down her spine.

  “What was missing?” she asked, then smoothed her tongue across her bottom lip to moisten it. With his rich, dark eyes locked on her face, her mouth felt as dry as sandpaper.

  Marcus leaned toward her. His hand cupped her cheek. His fingers fanned out into the fine, twisting hair by her temples, and he dragged her closer to him.

  “This.” His mouth brushed over hers in a light kiss. In the space of a heartbeat he settled fully upon her mouth and nibbled her bottom lip between his teeth.

  Nicole’s bones turned to butter, and she melted into his embrace. Her arms instinctively encircled his neck. The tips of her breasts brushed against his hard chest, causing a jolt of fire to flame at her core. Moisture—hot and immediate—pooled between her thighs. When her knees buckled, she allowed all of her weight to be supported by Marcus’s superior strength.

  The kiss changed from soft and tender to wild, needy, and thorough. His tongue thrust into her mouth, searching, exploring, conquering. He traced her teeth, found the darkest corners of her mouth, and bathed them in his heat, all while his thumb made small circles upon her cheek.

  Sliding her tongue forward to greet his, she felt the sizzle of his wet caress all the way to the tips of her toes.

  Marcus’s tongue retreated, yet when she attempted to follow, he did the unthinkable and slowed the kiss, before breaking it off completely.

  “Marcus,” she whimpered, trying to follow. Her body ached for his returned touch. His hand slid from her face, down her arm, to settle at her bicep. He gripped her there, holding her away from him for a moment. His midnight gaze locked on her lips, and an odd look came over his face.

  Unsure whether he was going to thrust her away or offer her the pleasure of a second kiss, Nicole stared back into his face, only to notice how the dimple in his cheek seemed to dance with life and the corners of his yielding lips twitched as if wanting to grin.

  Instead of kissing her again, Marcus tugged her to him and banded his arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. A sigh escaped her lips as she took comfort in the ease of his embrace and the familiar feel of being pressed against him. His pulse throbbed against her cheek.

  Pressing a kiss to his exposed collarbone, Nicole asked, “Missing my kisses brought you back three thousand miles? Maybe I should bottle them,” she teased.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, potent kisses like that could make you a fortune.” He released her and stepped away, taking her hand in his. “Until the condoms are gone, they belong to me.”

  They’ll never be gone if you keep replacing them. She smiled. She’d be his forever and reserve every passionate kiss under his name if only he’d ask her to. “Yeah, until they’re gone, or you are. What are you really doing back here?”

  Marcus started walking toward her back patio, tugging her by the hand behind him. He settled onto a porch swing and brought Nicole down on his lap, then kicked the slider into motion. “Let’s just say Atlanta wasn’t what I’d been expecting. And not what I was looking for.”

  Nicole chewed her bottom lip. “Did you look at condos? You don’t want to miss your Monday meeting with the Dynamic Agency,” she said, enjoying the closeness of him.

  “I’m not going back. I’m no longer interested in the job.”

  “What!” Nicole gasped. She attempted to get up but he held her to him. “I thought this was a chance-in-a-lifetime opportunity. What’s changed?”

  “I have. I’ve grown up.”

  For a moment Nicole remained quiet, thinking over the meaning of Marcus’s statement, and wondering what had happened in Atlanta that had made him change his mind.

  “I don’t—”

  “Shh,” he said, putting one finger to her lips to silence her. “Stop talking and kiss me again.”

  With a demand like that, was there any way she could refuse? Hell, no. Nicole turned on his lap. “Kiss you, huh?” she teased, leaning forward so her breasts were level with his face. “You kiss me.”

  He made no response, but nuzzled his lips into her cleavage visible in her V-neck T-shirt. Tilting his head, he found her nipple with his tongue, beaded and begging through her shirt and bra, and sucked her into his mouth.

  He suckled her deeper, pulling the taut flesh fully into his mouth until her back arched so he could get more complete contact. A low moan passed her lips. “I missed you,” Nicole admitted with a sigh.

  “I missed you too, baby,” he mumbled against her flesh, causing a vibration to rumble through her limbs. His nimble fingers found the bottom of her T-shirt and shoved it upward, pulling the cup of her bra as he went and leaving one breast exposed to the warm sun and his hot gaze.

  His mouth was on her again. His hands on her backside kneaded her flesh, pulling her into him. He rotated his hips in a slow but sensual rhythm, until deep down in her core, Nicole knew she was close to orgasm.

  With Mother Earth still clinging onto her hands, Nicole held Marcus’s wide shoulders and rocked with him, feeling the cooling zephyr created by the movement of the porch swing on her mouth-dampened skin.

  “Make love to me, Marcus.”

  “In a minute, Nic. I want to savor you,” he replied against her skin.

  She tilted her hips against his erection, driving onward in her quest for climax, spurred on by the throaty groans rumbling against her tit. But the feel of his hard cock encased behind his pants and rubbing her clit wasn’t enough. It did nothing to soothe the need for him that throbbed deep in her core.

  “Make love to me, Marcus,” she repeated with more urgency. She settled her hand at the top of his button fly. Her fingers divested the first and second button in record time.

  “Yeah, baby. Go get a condom,” he responded, lifting his talented mouth from his fondling.

  With an excited yelp, Nicole leaped from his lap and skipped toward th
e sliding glass door. She slipped inside. Once her eyes adjusted, she trotted into the kitchen, straight to the rose-shaped cookie jar.

  Nicole dropped the ceramic lid to the counter with a clank, and stuck her hand inside to retrieve a condom. She twirled her fingers in the Kisses but found only the candy.

  “I know they’re in here.” She grabbed hold of the cookie jar and dumped it upside down, spilling the contents onto the counter.

  Silver foil-wrapped chocolate adorned the white tiles. She fumbled her fingers in them, spreading them out so she could see clearly. In contrast to the silver wrappers of the chocolates, a shimmer of gold caught her eye. Her fingers closed around the metal and lifted it.

  It was a golden key ring holding a single key and a heart-shaped key chain, engraved with what appeared to be a street address. With her hand trembling, she flipped the heart over and saw her first name had also been engraved, but there was a blank spot where her last name should be.

  Marcus! He must have taken the condoms and replaced them with the key chain. Her heart quickened, while she fingered the cool golden metal in her hand. Not willing to speculate on the meaning of the key ring, she turned and walked with as much calmness as she could muster toward her yard.

  His truck roared to life. Confused, Nicole gripped the key as she jogged around the front just in time to see the tail end of Marcus’s truck disappear around the corner at the end of her block.

  With her cheeks burning, she ran into the house, grabbed the phone, and dialed his cell number. She was greeted by the computerized voice mail. She hung up.

  Uncurling her fingers, Nicole stared at the heart-shaped golden metal and the address engraved there. There was something vaguely familiar about the numbers and the street address in Granite Bay. Some feeling that churned in her belly and beckoned her to understand what it meant.

  An address?

  Quickly cleaning up, Nicole decided the only way to figure it out was to go there. Fetching her keys and purse, she left her house.