Marka and Frank have a heart to heart after dinner. She tells him about her disastrous relationships and he tells her about the day his best friend died. She compliments his fashion sense, telling him he always looks like he walked off the pages of a magazine.
“You totally look like a Calvin Klein model in that.”
He smirked, nodding his thanks. “Thank you. Honest truth, I don’t know how I do it. I look at a suit and shirts and I know what goes together. I see a rack of ties, I can pick the perfect one every time. Same with handkerchiefs.”
“That’s something I wanted to ask you. Why don’t your tie and handkerchief ever match exactly?”
“I remember once hearing someone talk about men’s fashion. I can’t even remember who or when. One thing he stressed was that the tie and handkerchief should never match, but coordinate. Matched sets can look cheap.”
“Really? Well, it works.”
Marka could tell by his expression that he didn’t want to talk anymore. His dark eyes softened, turning a liquid brown. He moved closer, reaching for her. Leaning into the circle of his arms seemed the most natural thing in the world.
He picked up a small remote and started music playing. Marka hadn’t noticed the iPod and speakers on top of the TV. The soft guitar music surrounded them. A smile tugged at her lips when she recognized the song.
Frank held her, savoring her scent, nuzzling her neck. He tantalized her by kissing her everywhere but on the lips. His nibbled her neck, ears and every inch of her face. Taking a deep breath, he smiled at her before planting a long, seductive kiss on her eager mouth.
Marka’s lips tingled. She trembled against him, sighing as he kissed her. A spark lit in her belly, blooming and flaring like a forest fire. She hungered for him like she never had before. His touch, his kisses made her crazy. No man she’d ever known had that effect on her. Her first, the man she thought she loved, had never done much more than warm her. She had sex with him because that’s what couples did. She never desired him. He always initiated everything.
But Frank. . . . He was addictive. She could imagine herself wanting him, thinking of him, desiring him. . . . What held her back? She knew the answer to that without putting it in words. She was afraid of getting hurt. She’d made the mistake of following her heart and desires more than a couple times. She tried to learn from her mistakes, but she failed again and again. She didn’t want to make the same error in judgement because she didn’t want to lose him.
Franks kisses intensified, his hands cupping her breasts as he kissed her. His mouth left hers and the warm roughness of his tongue teased her throat. Dropping to the crest of her shoulder, he lingered there as his fingers worked under her shirt toward her breasts.
Marka’s nipples were rock hard, rasping against her soft shirt. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. Arching her back, she brought her breasts closer to his mouth, inviting him to take them in his mouth. He didn’t need further prompting.
She ran one hand under his shirt, feeling his rock hard belly. The other dropped lower, massaging the firm, hot, throbbing member in his pants. It felt good to touch him. It made her feel powerful, knowing that she could make him crazy by refusing or give in and take what she wanted. Holding that kind of decision was a heady aphrodisiac.
Before she knew it, her top was up under her arms, her breasts bared to his luscious, inquisitive mouth and strong hands. His jeans were off. His hands went down the back of her pants, his shirt was over his head and gone.
The loveseat wasn’t big enough for a man his size to be comfortable, so he laid her on the floor, ravishing her with his kisses. By some surprising coincidence, she found his penis in her hand as he yanked her pants off. Her top went next and they were naked on the floor.
Frank paused a moment, admiring her body. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed as his mouth found its way to the most sensitive places.
Pounding at the door startled them both. Marka screamed, Frank cursed. The knocking continued, a voice added to the confusion.
“Frank, open up. It’s Kenny. I’ve got James with me. Come on, man. Put your pants back on and open up.”
Marka cowered on the floor until Frank gave her a hand up. He found her clothing and helped her dress before putting his boxers and jeans on. He left his T-shirt on the floor, several feet from where they’d been lying. Flushed and flustered, Marka went to the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup.
Frank answered the door red faced and angry. “This better be damned important.”
“Remember that dead guy at the bottom of the cliff? You recollect him, right?”
“Yeah. So?” They followed him into the living room. He took the chair, leaving them to squeeze onto the loveseat.
“So, I thought you’d call, man,” Kenny said almost angrily.
“After my office and car got trashed and some guy got himself dead at my house, I went out and had a couple drinks. I came back and slept it off. We just had dinner.” He held out his hands with a what’s next gesture.
© Dellani Oakes