His Secret Desire (Atlanta Nights)

by Linda Verji

  With a grin, she flounced towards the kitchen. “This way, sir.”

  One hour later found them seated in the living room, having finished their meal. Marcel complained, “I can’t believe you made me pay twenty for a sandwich, oj and salad. For that amount I expected the sandwich to do my laundry and clean my house too.”

  Bending to pick his plate from the table, she chuckled. “Don’t act like that wasn’t the best salad you’ve ever had.”

  “It wasn’t,” he retorted. When she gave him an eyebrow raise, he sighed and shrugged. “Okay, maybe in the top five.”

  “Top five? Psh, I’m number one,” she tossed over her shoulder as she headed to the kitchen. After placing their plates in the sink, she strode back into the room.

  Marcel turned his head at her reentrance. His features were more sober when he said, “Livy, I have to head out. My flight leaves at six a.m. and I haven’t even packed.”

  Her easy mood plummeted with his words. She didn’t want him to leave. Drawing a bracing breath and propping her palm on the couch’s back, she pasted a smile on her face. “Oh, okay.”

  He rose from the couch and, extracting his wallet from his pocket, strode towards her. He stopped less than an arm’s length from her, pulled out a card and handed it to her. “This is the Pig’s pet care facility. I’ve already told them that you’ll be bringing in Pig this week.”

  Olivia tilted her neck and glanced over the embossed business card. “What time do they open and close?”

  “Eight to eight.” He handed her another card. “But in case you have some late hours, this is my sister-in-law’s number. She can pick him up.”

  Olivia read the name of the cream card, ‘Rasheeda Isaac’, and the number next to it. “Okay.”

  “Also…”he let his words drifted off.

  She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “What?”

  “I need you to be careful around Nikki.” His eyes filled with concern, he took a step closer. “If anything happens while I’m away call Rasheeda, okay?”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “What can your sister-in-law do that I can’t do on my own?”

  “She’s a medical examiner for the cops and she knows some people.”

  “I know people too. And besides Nikki won’t do anything.” The image of her slashed tires flashed through her mind but shrugging it off Olivia said, “I told you she’s cool.”

  Marcel reached out and traced a single fingertip down her cheek. “Just promise me you’ll be careful with her.”

  At his touch, a heated flush engulfed her. Her voice husky, she murmured, “I’ll be careful.”

  He studied her for several beats. The concern in his eyes faded and was slowly replaced by heat. His finger traced a path around her jaw and was soon joined by his other finger as he cupped her chin. His touch on her skin was gentle but there was nothing gentle about the way he was looking at her. He was looking at her like he wanted to devour her.

  His heated gaze singed at her, ignited fire in her veins. Her pulse throbbed everywhere; her temples, her throat, between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat when he tilted it upwards. Would he kiss her? A dark thrill rippled through Olivia at the possibility and she bit her lip.

  But instead, Marcel dropped his hand, closed his eyes and blew out a breath. When his eyes snapped open, he took a step back. Giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he said, “I’ll see you on Monday, Livy.”

  “Bye, Marcel.” She watched him leave.

  At six p.m. Sunday evening, Marcel strode down to the terminal from his plane. His sojourn in Morocco had been interesting, inspiring and productive. The tours around Casablanca and Fez, absorbing the country’s architecture, had bred creative design ideas that he couldn’t wait to share with his colleagues. In less than six days, he’d picked up three new mega-clients for the firm and expanded his networks within the industry.

  The return trip was less exciting. The flight was long, quiet and boring. Not good, as that had left him with too much time to think. His mind had remained firmly focused on the one thing he desperately didn’t want to think about.

  Olivia Armstead.

  You’d think that after six days, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would’ve kicked in. It hadn’t. Every quiet second he had, his mind automatically sifted through his recollections of her; her face, her smile, her smell, her voice, her body. He’d tried to shake her off, remind himself that nothing could happen between them. But somehow she always managed to sneak herself in and invade his thoughts.

  He wanted her. Desperately.

  He wanted to kiss her, taste her drugging kisses. He wanted to peel her clothes from her, see if she looked as good without them as she did with them. He wanted to touch her, feel every inch of her tempting body pressed against his. He wanted to be inside her, feel her tight walls gripping him hard as he stroked inside her. Their lovemaking would be explosive. Olivia was too uninhibited, passionate and wild to be anything other than magnificent in his arms.

  But giving in to that temptation was a bad idea.

  Marcel knew Tay too well to delude himself into thinking that his friend would take it well. And as desirable as Olivia was or how fantastic being around her felt, his friendship with Tay was more important to him. Releasing a deep frustrated breath, Marcel wheeled his suitcase towards one of the cabs lined outside the terminal.

  “Where to?” the cabbie asked.

  Marcel first instinct was to direct him to Olivia’s place. He wanted to say that the instinct was because he wanted to pick up Pig and save her the inconvenience of having to deal with his dog for another night. But deep inside, he knew that the only reason he wanted to go to her place was to see her.

  Curbing that impulse, he gave the cabbie his own address. Tomorrow was good enough, and maybe one more day without her was what he needed to get his head back in the game.

  The cab had just pulled into the freeway when Sebastien called. “You home yet?”

  “I just landed,” Marcel informed him.

  “Good. You didn’t die.” And with that very loving welcome Sebastien ended the call.

  Marcel chuckled as he swiped his finger over the screen over his phone. His intention was to play a game, and he ended up at Temple Run. His errant thoughts recast the spunky heroine as Olivia. Despite himself, Marcel smiled as he imagined her jumping rocks, swinging off vines and collecting coins. No doubt Olivia would kill that run and look good doing it too.

  Despite himself, his craving for her reared its head again. Maybe he could call her to let her know he was back. No. That was too dangerous… who knew what hearing her voice might inspire him to do. A message? Yeah, a message. It was impersonal enough and he could justify it as passing information.

  I’m home. He typed and sent the message before he could rethink it. His stomach clenched in anticipation as he played with his phone waiting for her to text back. When a minute later the phone beeped and vibrated, his pulse hopped in unrestrained excitement.

  His lips curling in a half-smile, he clicked on her message. But there was only one word. Okay.

  Okay? His smiled faded in disappointment. That’s all she had to say. Okay?

  The impersonal tone of her message prickled. Hadn’t she missed him like he’d missed her? He wasn’t expecting a welcome home party but surely she could come up with something better than ‘okay’.

  His enthusiasm for Temple Run significantly dampened, he tossed his phone into the pocket of his coat. Playing with his dog-tag, he stared out the window and watched the passing cars. Even as he brooded he was aware that he was being irrational. Olivia’s lack of excitement at his return shouldn’t have rankled. This is what he wanted, right? For their relationship to remain platonic and uncomplicated.

  Okay, damn it! This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her to miss him. He wanted her to think of him as much as he had of her. He wanted her body burning for him at night as his burned for her.

  Get it together, he ordered himself.
Only it wasn’t that easy. Even after the cab dropped him off at his place he was still annoyed. Setting his luggage on his bedroom floor, he headed straight for the shower. His plan was to shower, eat, then sleep off his jet lag along with any residual thoughts of Olivia.

  It didn’t quite work out that way.

  He was stepping out of the shower when his phone rang. Wrapping a white towel around his lower body, he hurried into the bedroom. When he saw the name on the caller ID, his heart rate kicked up a notch and his lips curled in an instinctive smile.

  “You changed your code on me,” Olivia yelled as soon as he picked his phone.

  Wiping his voice of all excitement he asked, “What are you talking about?”

  “Your gate code – you changed it,” she retorted. “I’m outside your gate trying to key in the code but it keeps telling me I have the wrong code. I know you did it.”

  “Of course I did it,” he scoffed even though his belly warmed with the news that she was outside his gates. “Who else would change the codes on my gate?”

  “What’s the new one?” she hustled him.

  “Ask nicely.”

  “Boy, bye.” She revved her car threateningly.

  “Hey, hey, chill,” he called out with a chuckle. “The new code’s forty eight, ninety six, fifty two.”

  With a loud kissing of her teeth, she ended the call. Even though he knew he was in for a telling off the moment she stepped through the door, Marcel’s grin widened. He considered putting on some clothes, but realized it would mean making her wait at the front door. Humorous as her fury was, he didn’t want to push it too much. Securing the towel more firmly around his waist, he strode barefoot toward the door. The moment he opened it, he was met by an excited Pig.

  “Hey buddy,” he patted the panting dog. “Missed me?”

  “Woof,” Pig barked, swiping his master’s face with his rough tongue before rushing into the house. Obviously he’d missed the house too.

  Marcel straightened to his feet, his gaze zeroing in on Olivia who was walking up the pathway towards the door. He was prepared to see her in her usual tight, sexy clothes. And she didn’t disappoint. Her white t-shirt clung to her fleshy tits and toned waist with breathtaking snugness. The splashed ‘Yes, I’m 60’ across her chest only served to keep his attention glued to her lush breasts. Her beige, cropped sweatpants hugged her thick hips like a second skin.

  In many of his dreams he’d pictured her naked so, rationally, the tight clothes should’ve had little impact. But logic had no place in his feelings for her. He’d underestimated his reaction to seeing her looking so tempting, or to the smile that widened on her lips with each step she took closer. The excitement that up until now had been a low flame burning at the pit of his belly flared into a full bonfire.

  “Hey,” she called out as she strode towards him. Their gazes locked and something warm and intimate passed between them

  He had to swallow to find his voice. “Hey.”

  She stopped an arms-length from the door. “You’re back.”

  “I’m back,” he agreed, his gaze steady on hers. Then as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she walked into his arms, and he welcomed her.

  Sighing, she rose to her toes and wove her arms around his shoulders. Acting purely on instinct he drew her closer with a hand around her waist and the other on the small of her waist.

  The moment their bodies brushed, his senses lit up in awareness. He was aware of her full breasts flush against his naked chest and her thighs pressing against his. Lured by her feminine, citrusy scent, he buried his nose into her neck and tightened his arms around her supple body bringing her flush against him.

  Her moan as she nudged closer to him was like a bolt of lightning through his body. It trapped his breath in his throat and sent blood racing right down to his cock. He should’ve pulled away when he began to lengthen beneath his towel. But he couldn’t. Not even if his life depended on it.

  He expected her to step back, run, when his erection pushed against her firm tummy, but she didn’t. Instead she called his name, “Marcel.”

  He dragged his face from her neck to meet her gaze. When he did, he saw desire identical to his running rampant in the brown depths of her eyes.

  He should’ve let her go. And she should’ve stepped back.

  But neither of them moved. The tension between them intensified when she parted her lips drawing his attention to their lush thickness. Somehow they seemed to have shifted even closer because now every sexy inch of her pressed against her. He didn’t know when he lowered his palm, only realized he’d done it when he squeezed her ass. Her response was a gasped, “Marcel,” accompanied by her hand cupping his neck. She dragged his head down, down, down, then…

  She kissed him.

  Or maybe he kissed her.

  Who cared? The result was that he slanted his mouth over hers to line their lips better and went to town. The kiss was as good, as intoxicating, as heart-stopping as he’d expected. The slow tour of her tongue around his was exhilarating. It stretched time into slow erotic pulses tempered only by the waves of heat throbbing between them.

  Marcel sunk into her sweet taste like a drowning man weighed down by desire. He mashed his lips to hers and suckled on her tongue, taking everything she offered. With hot, angry, demanding kisses, he ravaged her mouth and drew a needy whimper from her mouth.

  Every stroke of her tongue against his was like a lighter lighting him on all sides until his whole body was a flaming bundle of nerves. He gathered her closer plastering her curves to his. She was like an aphrodisiac blinding him to everything but the sweet agony of her soft palms roaming his back. Her tits pressed against his chest and her mound cradled his erection, agitating his senses to fever pitch. He squeezed her voluptuous ass to drag her closer to him and she obliged him with a grind that him groaning into her mouth.

  It seemed like he’d been waiting days, weeks, months to have her in his arms. She felt better than he’d imagined, and it was all too much for him. The thin thread he had over his control snapped and all thoughts of resisting Olivia drained from his mind leaving him with only one thought… he needed her. With one smooth move, he moved her from the entrance, into the house and back against the wall.

  “Livy,” he gasped on an open mouthed kiss as he sandwiched her between the wall and his overheated body. Her response was to run the tip of her tongue along his lower lip as she squeezed his ass. With a low growl he sucked her tongue right into his mouth for another sweltering kiss.

  His blood pounded, thickened until his whole body was heavy with desire. He needed to take her somewhere where they could lie down. He grasped her buttocks, preparing to carry her to his bedroom…

  “Woof. Woof.” Pig’s bark was like a splash of cold water and flooded the tension between them with common sense. Marcel tore his lips from Olivia’s as stunned shock raced through him.

  What the hell am I doing? He dropped his hands from Olivia’s ass and took a rushed step away from her. Rubbing his fingers over his mouth he stared at her. What the hell am I doing?

  For a moment they stood there staring at each other awkwardly as their breaths came in winded gushes. Olivia looked as shocked as he felt; her eyes headlight wide and her lips parted. Releasing a shaky breath, she said, “Marcel-”

  Just as he started, “Olivia, I-”

  They both went silent again, the words lost between them as they stared at each other. Then Olivia said, “I have to go.”

  A second later she was out the door. He wanted to race after her and ask her to stay but his inhibitions kept his feet firmly planted by the door. Bereft, he watched her start her car and speed away like the very hounds of hell were chasing her.

  Bracing his hand on the wall, he bent his head and closed his eyes. “Fuck.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Thursday evening and Olivia still couldn’t believe that she’d attacked Marcel like that. What had she been thinking hugging him then starting the kiss
that had sent them off in a path they were never supposed to tread? To be fair he hadn’t resisted at all. His kisses had been those of a man desperate for her, but still, she shouldn’t have started it.

  If she hadn’t missed him so much she probably would’ve been able to control herself. But as soon as she’d seen him naked except for the towel around his waist, lust had shoved aside all logic and self-control. His desperate and heated kisses had only stoked that lust more, and now he was all she could think about.

  He occupied her every sleeping moment. The last four days had been hell on her nights. Dreams of once more tasting his kisses and rubbing her body against his taunted her. Her imagination tormented her with images of her ripping his towel off, grabbing that long column of heated steel that had pushed against her stomach…

  Perhaps it was a good thing that he’d missed the Monday morning session because she didn’t know how she would’ve handled his presence. If her luck held, he’d miss today’s session too.

  It didn’t.

  At precisely six fifty one, Marcel strode into the studio. The moment she caught sight of him through the mirror her heart started a nervous pitter patter. She watched him head straight for the windows and set his towel and water-bottle on its sill. But when he swiveled to face the front of the class, she turned her gaze away from him. For the rest of the class she pretended she couldn’t see him. Once or twice their eyes locked but each time either he or she would look away quickly. It seemed, like her, he intended to forget what had happened between them.

  That didn’t mean she was any less aware of him, only that it was now tempered with a healthy dose of embarrassment and wariness. She expected him to take off as soon as the class ended. He didn’t.

  She was at the corner of studio shutting down the music when she saw him coming towards her through the mirror. Her whole body tautened while her nerves held their collective breath as she waited for him to reach her. The closer he got, the more her lungs tightened until it felt like there was a rope coiled around them strangling her breath. She dragged in a breath as she turned to meet him.