Excerpt from Meet Me in Paris...
Mmmm,
chocolate!
He turned on the fireplace that he’d converted to gas, even though it was a fairly warm evening and they didn’t really need it. The firelight licked the room and in its glow, the small statues, most of them African, danced for the new couple. The Somali painting, his wife’s painting, was alive, watching them alertly.
“Anything special you want to listen to?”
“Uh. . . .” Your voice, whispering in my ear, she considered telling him. “I don’t know. Whatever you like.”
He hummed softly, withdrew a disk and slid it into the player. Nina Simone. She lifted her brows, both surprised and impressed. Then, with a magician’s flourish, he produced a plain black box wrapped in a silver ribbon, out of nowhere. He walked toward her, holding it out with a mischievous smile on his face. “This one,” he told her, “is for Kendra. Not for Natalie, or for anyone else.”
“Tell me that’s not a kinky sex toy,” she cracked, with equal parts apprehension and expectation.
“Oh, it’s sexy, all right.” When she didn’t take the box, he opened it and brought out a small, round ball of chocolate. “These are hand made, 75% cocoa. Liqueur-filled. Thing is, they’re assorted, and you don’t know which chocolate has what liqueur until you bite into it.” He pressed one between her lips. “Close your eyes and taste this.”
She did as she was told, closing her eyes and cupping his hand in hers as he slipped it into her mouth. Heaven, heaven, heaven. This was real chocolate, not the kind you pick up at the 7-11. She could taste bitter earth, wood, and the most subtle hint of tobacco. The fragile shell broke between her teeth and flooded her mouth with orangey warmth. “Grand Marnier.”
“Is it?”
“Think so.”
He bent forward and tasted her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips to sip at the delicate sweetness. Lightning shot through her whole body, and grounded itself off in her groin.
“I think you’re right,” he said contemplatively. He picked up another chocolate and delicately inserted it past her willing lips. “Let’s see what we have here.”
Kendra had a flashing image of herself standing in a hot, tropical field of cocoa trees, with their broad leaves, wet from rain, brushing her face, and grass sticking to her bare feet. “Are these legal? Where’d you get them?”
“My secret. Now, bite.”
She bit.
He was waiting.
She couldn’t even open her eyes. “Mmm!” Even the air she exhaled was infused with the perfume of cocoa.
His mouth was near hers, like he was trying to share the perfume by proximity alone. “Don’t keep me waiting. What is it?”
“Amaretto.”
“Let me see.” She felt one arm slip around her waist and pull her against him. He led her in dance, grooving them both into Nina’s rhythm. Then, again, the bold tongue, tasting hers. Tasting the liqueur-drenched chocolate. “Right again.”
They danced a while. As they did, he held the box behind her in the hand that was around her waist. The stuff he was feeding her had to be eighty proof, because she was woozy. She struggled hard against the urge to melt into him, let her knees go soft under her so he had to bear her entire weight. She wanted to slide into sleep, right there in his arms, and let him dance her through her dreams.
She opened her eyes. His mouth was tinged with cocoa, and she knew hers must be, too. “Your turn.”
She twisted around to get at the little black box and removed one of the devilishly deceptive, plain brown balls. Instead of transferring it to his mouth with her fingers, she held it carefully between her front teeth. Then, like a mother crocodile passing an egg to a surrogate, she slipped it to him in a kiss. “Better if you close your eyes,” she advised.
“It always is, isn’t it?” he murmured.
She waited. Watched him lick his lips. “Save some for me,” she reminded him.
He bent forward and kissed her. At the same time, they said, “Crème de Menthe!” and laughed with delight.
“This is a sin,” she commented.
“I’ll do penance later.” They danced and kissed and kissed and danced. A few chocolates later he set the box down. “I think we’re both past the legal limit.”
“I guess we can manage to stay off the roads.”
“I’m not taking you any farther than right about. . . .” Of one accord, they turned to the couch. “. . . .Right about here.” He set her down, pressing her back into the cushions and stretching out above her. Even after they’d kissed away the chocolate, they found their kisses were still unbearably sweet. He slipped the straps of her dress down until her breasts were bare to him, and then sucked gently on one nipple until her breath was coming fast and sharp between her teeth.
“Crème de cacao,” he murmured. “Let’s try the other one.”
“Oh, Lord, Trey, I’m dying. . . .”
“Shush. I’ve only just started.” He took the other nipple between his teeth and teased it until she was using words that shouldn’t be said in polite company. After a few long, sweeping licks, he made his pronouncement. “Sweet, coconutty Malibu.” He smiled up at her. “You pack a hell of a kick, lady.”
“Malibu, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The glitter in his eyes was contagious: points of wicked light were reflected in hers. “Sort of makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“Wonder what?”
“What you taste like.”
His swiftly drawn breath was reward enough for her audacity. He raised himself off of her, stood up, and held out a hand. “Upstairs. Now.”
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