The Perfect Present

by Rochelle Alers

  Maybe I’m not ready to leave after all, she thought, moving closer to him.

  “The moment I saw you, all I could think about was making love to you, but now that I’ve gotten to know you better, I know it would be a mistake for us to sleep together.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. You do?

  “This isn’t about sex, Maya. I like you a lot, and I don’t want you to think I’m only interested in one thing. I’m not. I’m deeper than that . . .”

  Like his words, his soft kisses along her neck thrilled her. No one had ever made her feel so special, and as he whispered in her ears, Maya couldn’t think of anything but making love. She needed a distraction from her busy life, someone to help her forget her miserable, holiday blues, and the tall, chiseled hottie was just what the doctor ordered.

  Pressing herself flat against him, Maya massaged Marc’s body with her own. The warmth of his skin and the scent of his cologne were intoxicating. Her undoing. What pushed her to the brink. Kissing him, she playfully nipped at his bottom lip and raked her hands through his short, thick hair. Holding his tongue hostage with her teeth, Maya tickled and sucked on the tip of it, as her hands undid the buttons of his dress shirt.

  Turned on, her flesh quivering with need, her body ached desperately for him. Maya loved his touch, couldn’t get enough, and kissed him deeply to let him know she liked what he was doing with his mouth and hands. Leaving was out of the question. Screw decorum. Maya wanted to make love to Marc, and for the first time in her life, she was going to live in the moment without second-guessing herself.

  Kissing and caressing him, Maya enjoyed being in his arms, but soon it wasn’t enough. Wanting his hands all over her body—in her hair, on her breasts, between her legs, squeezing and spanking her ass—Maya stood, unzipped her dress, and let it fall to the floor.

  Gripping her hips, Marc swirled his tongue around her navel, kissing and sucking it into his open mouth. His touch was electrifying, more powerful than a lightning bolt. Her thighs quivered, her knees buckled, and the floor fell out from under her feet. Cradling the back of his head in her hands, Maya held him close to her body, eager for more of his caress.

  He unhooked her bra, slid it down her arms, and tossed it in the air as if it was confetti. Maya giggled, couldn’t believe they were making out on the couch like a couple of teenagers. He cupped her breasts, squeezing and rubbing them, turning her out with each flick of his thumb.

  “Your body is exquisite, especially your breasts. They’re so big and beautiful,” he praised, his voice full of awe. Stroking them, he swirled his tongue over her erect nipples.

  Knowing that he desired her, that he appreciated her curves, drove Maya wild. Made her soul sing, her heart dance, and a girlish smile overwhelm her mouth.

  “Maya, tell me what you want me to do, what you need. I want to please you.”

  Wanting him to feel her wetness, she guided his hand between her thighs and slid his finger inside her sex. A moan fell from her lips. Then another one. Maya leaned against him and gripped his shoulders. “I need you inside me now. Please.” Shocked to hear the desperation in her voice, her tone sounded foreign to her ears, but she didn’t hide her feelings. They bubbled up inside her and spilled out of her mouth. “This is incredible, like a wonderful dream, and I want to make love to you.”

  “Baby, are you sure?”

  His question confused her, and she took a moment to consider his words.

  “It’s a huge step, Maya, and I don’t want you to hate me in the morning.”

  As he rose to his feet, she noticed his gaze was filled with uncertainty, and sought to put his fears to rest. “Marc, I won’t. I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman with needs and desires and wants, and I want you.”

  “We don’t have to make love tonight. There’ll be plenty more opportunities.”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” To prove it, Maya kissed him hard on the mouth, then sashayed confidently toward the bedroom. “Are you coming?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Marc said with a lopsided grin. “Don’t start without me!”

  Warm and cozy under the blanket on the king-size bed seconds later, Maya watched Marc undress. She drooled as her eyes slid down his ripped physique. Everything about his body was a turn-on, made her wet. His chiseled pecs and biceps, six-pack abs, and his firm, hard ass. Built like a superhero, he was the perfect physical specimen, and Maya couldn’t wait for him to join her in bed.

  Marc grabbed a packet from his wallet, took off his boxers, and rolled the condom onto his erection. Swallowing hard, Maya felt her body warm and her pulse race. It was a sight to behold. A thing of beauty. The staggering width and length of his erection made her mouth water, and Maya was so eager to make love she tossed aside the sheets, draped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down on top of her.

  Giggling, she grabbed his ass and clasped her legs around his waist. Marc kissed her, and she sighed in contentment. He made love to her mouth with his lips, and Maya squealed when he tickled her earlobe with his tongue. They laughed, rolling around on the bed, their voices drowned out the jazz song playing on the stereo system. Marc gave her everything she needed, what her body wanted. Maya tightened her hold around his shoulders. She liked feeling his hard body against her soft, supple skin, and couldn’t stop caressing and stroking his muscles.

  Ravishing her mouth with kisses, Marc slid a hand between her thighs, positioned his erection against her clit, and eased it inside her. It was a tight, snug fit, but Maya spread her legs wide open, urging him deeper still. Squeezing her pelvic muscles, she moaned and cursed and whispered naughty words in his ears. Their wild, frenzied lovemaking excited her, had Maya saying and doing things she’d never said or done before.

  Planting her feet flat on the bed, Maya used the leverage to thrust her hips toward him. The missionary position had never felt so good, and she was so blissfully and ridiculously happy, she wanted to pinch herself to prove she wasn’t dreaming. It was hard to believe this was the first time they’d ever had sex. Comfortable with him, she yearned to unleash her inner sex goddess. Wanted to please, and be pleased. Marc was not only every woman’s dream, he was a thoughtful, considerate lover who put her needs first. He took his time with her, and seemed to derive great pleasure from making her moan. Reading her body as if it was a book, Marc knew how to please her, and Maya loved how fun and playful he was in bed.

  Skin to skin, their hands and legs intertwined, they moved as one body. Maya didn’t know lovemaking could be like this. Erotic. Passionate. Sensuous. No wonder she was losing it. Bucking against him, licking his earlobe, twerking his nipples, rubbing and slapping his ass.

  Panting, her mouth unbearably dry, Maya thrust her hips back and forth, hard and fast. It took every ounce of her self-control not to scream out in ecstasy. At the point of no control, she arched her back and gripped his shoulders. The speed and depth and intensity of his penetration made it impossible for her to think or speak. Maya didn’t want to come, wasn’t ready for their lovemaking to end, but she had no choice but to ride out the delicious wave flowing through her body.

  “My turn. I’m right behind you, baby.” Hiking her leg in the air, Marc pressed his eyes shut, and threw his head back. He increased his pace, pumping his hips hard and fast, thrusting and swiveling. He groaned and his body went completely still.

  As they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, a slow smile crept across Maya’s lips. Marc was an attentive and passionate lover, the best she’d ever had, and she’d never forget him.

  He stretched out beside her, his feet dangling over the edge of the platform bed. He pulled her into his arms, and Maya snuggled against his chest. Did that just happen? she thought. Did I actually have a one-night stand ? And if so, why do I suddenly feel giddy and excited ?

  “That was incredible,” she whispered, speaking her thoughts aloud. Her head was in the clouds, full of happiness and romantic ideas, but Maya knew baring her sou
l to Marc after only one night together was a mistake. If she did, she’d scare him off, and she wanted to see him again tomorrow night. Her hopes were high—maybe too high considering they’d just met—but Maya sensed he was a good guy who wouldn’t hurt her, and she was looking forward to their first official date at Tribune Plaza. “Thank you for a very memorable evening.”

  “You think that was good? Wait until you see what I can do with a can of whipped cream!”

  “Why tell me when you can show me?”

  Chuckling, he kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t realize you were so naughty.”

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  “I know you like this,” Marc whispered, brushing his lips against her ear.

  Her breath caught on a moan, sending shock waves through her flesh.

  “You like this, too, don’t you?”

  He cupped her breast in his hand, lowered his face, and eagerly licked it.

  She felt her nipples harden. Her mouth dried, and her sex tingled.

  “And I know for a fact that you love this.”

  Marc slid a finger between her legs, and swirled it around her sex.

  “Please don’t rush off,” he whispered, his tone silky smooth. “I want you to stay.”

  Aroused, Maya tried to focus her gaze on Marc’s face, but everything in the room was a blur. It was hard to think when he was tweaking her nipples and stroking her hips, but she surfaced from her sexual haze and nodded in response. He’d seduced her with poignant words and tender caresses, and as they made love for the second time, Maya decided to put the past behind her and embrace the holiday season. With that thought in mind, she rolled on top of Marc, pinned his hands to the bed, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  Chapter 4

  Marc walked into the media room inside Javonte’s gated Northfield mansion on Saturday morning, noticed the footballer’s entourage were already chugging beers at the wet bar, and shook his head in disgust. Framed football jerseys were displayed along the fireplace mantel, flat-screen TVs were mounted above the pool table, and glass shelves held trophies, plaques, and autographed footballs. The patterned wallpaper and bronze table lamps gave the space a masculine but elegant feel, but the air reeked of weed, and Marc suspected the men were smoking more than just cigarettes.

  Put off by the odor, Marc wiggled his nose. He hoped the stench didn’t saturate his clothes, and decided to speak to Javonte again about his “friends,” once they were finished talking business. Though Marc doubted anything would change. For the life of him, he didn’t understand why Javonte insisted on hanging out with guys from his old neighborhood. Didn’t he realize they were bad for his image? His brand? Didn’t he care about landing endorsement deals?

  Releasing a deep sigh, he took off his sunglasses and slid them inside the pocket of his black leather jacket. A picture of Mya flashed in his mind, and his scowl morphed into a smile. Nothing was going to spoil his good mood. He’d met an angel, a smart, spirited beauty he’d instantly connected with, and Marc was looking forward to seeing her tonight. Couldn’t wait. Since his divorce, he’d dated one woman after another, but the celebrity stylist was the only person to ever capture his attention. There was a lot to like about her—her sharp wit, her confidence, her wild, exuberant laugh—and he’d been taken with Maya from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Everyone else in the room had disappeared, and the music had faded into the background. Successful in every area of his life, except love, Marc was tired of playing the field, and wondered if Maya was a Christmas fling or someone he could settle down with. Deep down, Marc hoped it was the latter. Last night in bed, they’d talked for hours, and he’d opened up to her in a way he couldn’t with anyone else.

  Marc shook his head, forced himself to pump his breaks. As usual, he was thinking too much, getting way ahead of himself. At heart, he was a relationship guy, the kind of person who thrived having a loving, committed partner, but this time around he had to be smart. Careful. Had to make better choices, or he would get hurt again, and Marc didn’t want history to repeat itself. “Hey, Javonte,” he said, abandoning his thoughts. “What’s up?”

  Grumbling, the defensive lineman cracked his knuckles.

  Marc took off his jacket, hung it on the wooden coat hanger beside the window, and took a seat beside Javonte on the tan couch. Stocky, with broad shoulders and large hands, he was one of the most explosive players in the National Football League, and coaches, teammates, and fans loved his tenacity out on the field. “How’s my favorite client doing?”

  “Did you call Coach Schneider?” he asked, using a face towel to mop the sweat dripping from his face. “What did he say? Did he believe you?”

  “Javonte, I’m not going to lie for you.”

  “Why not? Everyone else does.”

  Marc swallowed hard. He loved sports, had since he was in elementary school, and although he specialized in baseball, basketball, and football, he represented several Olympians as well, but no one was more challenging than Javonte Malone. Still, he remained calm, didn’t let his frustration show. “We’ve talked about this before. I’m your agent, not your manager—”

  “I know, but Coach likes you. He said you’re a loyal, stand-up guy and encouraged me to sign with your agency. Coach said you’d take good care of me. Was he wrong?”

  Marc met his gaze, didn’t flinch when the football player’s eyes darkened. Javonte was trying to intimidate him, to bully him into doing what he wanted, but it wasn’t going to happen. A month earlier, Marc had negotiated the largest contract in the agency’s history, and three weeks later his boss was still celebrating. Landing Javonte “Bone Crusher” Malone as a client was the biggest accomplishment of his eight-year career, but Marc wasn’t going to let the defensive lineman push him around. “What’s going on? Last week, you were fired up about the New Orleans game, and now you’re running scared. What gives?”

  Hanging his head, Javonte leaned forward in his seat and rubbed at his eyes.

  To lighten the mood and encourage the defensive lineman to confide in him, Marc clapped him good-naturedly on the back and said, “What’s going on, man? Talk to me.”

  Seconds passed, and just when Marc had given up all hope of ever getting a straight answer, Javonte spoke in a low, pained voice.

  “It’s my knee. It’s acting up again, and the pain medication isn’t working.”

  “Have you met with the team doctor?”

  “Yeah. I saw him yesterday, and he said everything looks good, but it’s not.”

  Nodding in understanding, Marc wore a sympathetic expression on his face. Having worked with professional athletes for years, he understood why Javonte was upset, and why he didn’t want to play in the nationally televised game. For all their toughness and bravado, a lot of athletes had self-esteem issues and feared being rejected by their coaches, teammates, and fans.

  “If I play on Thursday night I’m risking further injury, and if I don’t suit up I could be benched indefinitely.” His shoulders drooped. “It’s a no-win situation. Either way, I’m screwed.”

  “When are you supposed to leave for New Orleans?”

  “Tuesday.” Javonte glanced at his Rolex wristwatch. It was ostentatious and flashy, just like his diamond stud earrings, and chains, but he enjoyed showing off his wealth. “But I’m supposed to be at the stadium this afternoon to study film, and practice drills.”

  “I’ll call Coach Schneider.”

  Sighing in relief, he lobbed his arm around Marc’s shoulder and hugged him. “My man!” he shouted, pumping a fist in the air. “Thanks, Marc. This means a lot to me.”

  “I’m not making any promises, Javonte. I’ll call Coach and tell him about your knee, but as a show of good faith you should attend practice today, and also travel with the team. It will prove you care about the game, your reputation, and your teammates.”

  “Sure, no problem. I can do that. I love the Big Easy!”

  A short, lanky guy in a
Lakers baseball cap wandered into the media room and gestured with his chin to the door. “J, can I holler at your sister? I bumped into her upstairs, and she was looking real nice. Like a video vixen!”

  “Not if you value your life.”

  “Come on, bro. I’ll be on my best behavior. You can trust me—”

  Javonte spoke through clenched teeth. “We talked about this already, Chauncey. Don’t even think about it. My sister is off limits, and that will never change. Got it?”

  Marc felt his cell phone vibrate, and took it out of his pocket to read his latest text message. In the distance he heard someone singing “Christmas with You,” and the woman’s soft, melodious voice filled the air. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” Marc said.

  Shrugging a shoulder, Javonte wore a crooked grin. “You never asked.”

  “Do you have any other siblings?”

  “Nope. It’s just me and Maya . . .”

  Frowning, Marc cranked his head to the right. Stared at Javonte as if he was speaking a foreign language. Maya? Panic rose inside the walls of his chest, but he conquered his emotions. No way. It couldn’t be. Had to be a coincidence. But when his one-night stand strode into the media room, his fears returned with a vengeance. His eyes were broken. Deceiving him. Playing tricks on his mind, because there was no way in hell Maya—his Maya—was at Javonte’s estate.

  Maya wet her lips with her tongue, and sweat soaked Marc’s white knit shirt. The snowball-size lump in the back of his throat threatened to choke him, and his pulse was drumming so loud in his ears a headache began to form in his temples.

  To regain control, Marc took a deep breath, but his temperature continued to climb. There were millions of smart, attractive women in Chicago, but he’d slept with his client’s kid sister last night—done things with her in his suite that would make a groupie blush—and now he was living a nightmare. Dead, if Javonte ever found out. Still, despite the risk of being caught, he lusted after her. She looked delectable in a burgundy off-the-shoulder dress and black suede boots. Marc couldn’t stop himself from admiring her full, curvy hips and supple thighs—thighs he’d stroked and massaged and licked last night.