AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wrung my hands in my lap and focused my attention on the floor, not noticing that he was trying to hand me a plate.
“You okay?” he asked, setting the plate on the coffee table.
I shook my head and scoffed. “Honestly, not at all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just…I don’t know.”
“You look stressed. Been working hard?”
I nodded as I looked up at him. Working hard at trying not to think about you.
He smiled down at me. “Come in the kitchen and let me see if I can help you.”
I frowned but stood and followed him, wondering to myself what he was planning to do. Relax me with food?
He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”
I did, and watched as he moved to the right of the chair I occupied, towering over me. He raised his hands, wiggled his fingers, and said, “I’m good with massages. You mind?”
I shrugged. “Go ahead.”
I closed my eyes, and when his hands rested on my shoulders, warmth penetrating the cloth of my t-shirt, I flinched a little. “Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Man, you’re really tense.” He kneaded my shoulders, his hands strong and gentle at the same time, causing me to seemingly sink into the wooden chair.
“That’s it. See, you’re relaxing already.”
I let my head loll forward. “Yeah…”
He massaged my shoulders another minute before gently pushing against my back, encouraging me to lean forward, and then used his thumbs to rub circles into my back. I sighed softly. His hands did feel good, very good, so when he lifted my shirt and his warm hands met my flesh, I didn’t protest. I just rested my arms on the table and my head on my arms as he continued rubbing circles into my skin. Then I felt his lips on my back.
I sat up straight, stiffening my posture. Standing from the chair, I turned to face him. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to make you feel good. Don’t you wanna feel good, Angela? Don’t you want me to make you feel good?” he asked in a huskier version of that voice that made me melt. His eyes were glued to mine in an intense stare. I saw the desire there, and once again, felt heat and moisture rush between my legs. I was throbbing down there. It had been so long…
“What are you talking about?” I only said that because I honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say, laced my words with anger because I was mad at myself for absolutely wanting him to make me feel good.
He reached down and pushed the chair away, closing the space between us so that my face was only centimeters from his chest. “You don’t know what I’m talking about? You sure?” He lowered his head so that his lips just barely touched mine. A tiny sound escaped my mouth before I clamped it shut.
It’s been so long.
Too long.
Three years…
“I…I…Mr. Boyé, I don’t think—”
“But you are thinking. That’s the problem.” He cupped my face in his hands and locked his eyes on mine. “You need to stop thinking so damn much.”
His mouth covered mine before I could utter another word, his tongue sliding across my lips. I responded by opening my mouth and welcoming it inside. His tongue caressed mine, my face still in his strong hands. Then he moved his hands to my shoulders and my arms before they left my body for a moment and then found my back, where he eased them under my shirt and rubbed them up and down my warm flesh, sending ripples of deep yearning through me, moaning into my mouth and making my mind race almost as wildly as my heart.
His hands slid down to my ass, gripping it as he turned his head and deepened the kiss. A moment later, his lips left mine, and he whispered, “You taste so sweet.”
My answer was to close my eyes, lean in, and kiss him, wrapping my arms around him, expecting him to wrap his around me. Instead, I felt him grasp both sides of my waist and lift me onto the table, our mouths still connected. My eyes popped open, but closed again as he continued to kiss my breath away. Then one of his hands returned to my body, sliding into the front of my jogging pants, into my panties…to my naked core.
I gasped as he began to caress my clit with expert precision. Our tongues were still intermingled as I grabbed his shirt and screamed into his mouth. Two long-term relationships equaling a combined total of eleven years, and I had never, ever felt anything so intense, so terrifyingly, uncontrollably good. With every stroke of his finger, it felt as if he was unraveling a strand of my sanity and I feared when he was finished with me, I’d be completely undone.
But I couldn’t stop him.
I didn’t want to.
