For Kicks (18 page)

“Where are you going?”

He pointed to the bathroom door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. She used the time to take a deep breath and try to come to terms with what she’d learned. Their relationship working beyond stolen moments and dark hotel rooms took on an entirely new significance. Breeze was grateful he’d pursued her. He must have felt something special too, maybe even more than she did to trust her with this much of himself. Hope washed over her, making her want to show him she understood all he’d trusted her with. But how?

The bag sat at her feet and she looked inside. What she found wasn’t a book, but a box. Opening it, she was hit by the warm smell of chocolate before she even removed the booklet and lifted the paper liner.

Inside were rows of chocolate disks and tubs of something else. Knitting her brows together, she balanced the box on her crossed legs and opened the booklet. It explained how chocolate was made. Each of the tubs showed the different stages in the process. Beans, nibs, butter, unsweetened chocolate. The chocolate disks demonstrated the kinds of chocolate, white and milk, and the differing cocoa contents of dark chocolate.

“You found it.” She looked up to find Logan next to her. He set down two glasses of water and joined her on the couch. “It looks like fun, right?”

“Eating an entire box of chocolate? What’s not to like?” She opened the tub of cocoa butter and sniffed. It had a warm aroma, but nothing like chocolate. She set it down.

“Mmm. Cocoa butter.” He picked it up and sniffed, then made a face. “I thought it would be like tanning lotion.”

“Why?” She laughed and opened the beans. Again, no chocolate smell. Quite disappointing.

“Isn’t that what tanning lotion smells like? Cocoa butter?” He sniffed again and shrugged.

“I think that’s coconut oil.” She tried the cocoa nibs, the smell recognizable, but not strong. “It’s amazing, the amount of processing that goes into chocolate. I mean, for hundreds of years, they just chomped on beans. Just like coffee.”

“I bet finding chocolate was a mistake. Coffee too. Someone messed up in the kitchen and, voila, new treat.”

Opening the unsweetened chocolate, she took a deep whiff, the rich, warm smell invading her lungs. “If they had a chocolate perfume, I’d wear it.”

“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow and grabbed a white chocolate disk, rubbing the edge on his lips, then holding it up. “Come and see how you like white chocolate.”

She made a face. “I don’t. It’s too sweet.”

“Just try it.” He held out his disk and she grabbed his wrist, taking a small nibble from the chocolate.

“Not for me.” She picked up a disk on the far end of the box, nearly black it was so dark. Eighty-five percent cocoa. She bit into the piece and hummed her approval. He mirrored her move, then scrunched his face.

“How can you eat that? It’s almost bitter.”

“With other kinds I taste the sugar, not the chocolate.” She laid the rest of the disk flat on her tongue and let it melt.

“I’m a milk chocolate person myself. I go crazy in Europe. All the chocolate is dark and buttery. I like American milk chocolate. Sweet and creamy.” He ate a milk chocolate disk whole.

“How often do you go to Europe?” She took the next grade of chocolate, seventy-two percent, and was pleased to find it just as delicious.

“For work? About twice a year. But I was thinking about when I played soccer and we’d go more often. The US is really the only place soccer is a minor sport. In Europe, they have amazing training facilities, and the fans are incredible. It’s wild.”

“Are you gone a lot for work?” She drained her water, then tried the next step down on the chocolate ladder, sixty percent. Definitely sweeter and not as smooth. But still good.

“Some. I will more as Kicks launches internationally. Unless I’m able to segue over into brand marketing. Then I’ll only have to travel for events, like the Olympics. And the Superbowl. The Final Four. It’s every sports nut’s dream job.”

“You don’t want to stay with Kicks?”

“I love the concept, and I’ll do what I can to support Kicks and Kellen, no matter what. But brand marketing is too big of an opportunity to pass up. Kellen will understand.” He took another milk chocolate disk.

“Live a little.” She handed him a sixty percent. “I was thinking about after, when we get home, and how much you’ll be around. I could work like normal while you’re gone and only feel guilty when you’re home.”

“Glad my schedule accommodates your workaholic tendencies.” He took a sip from his glass. “But there’s another way we could see more of each other.”

“Is there?” Breeze set the box aside, not wanting anything in the way if he was willing to talk about where the relationship was going.

“Nitrous wants you to run one of the local retail stores.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head slowly. “You want me to work for Nitrous? That causes more problems than it solves.”

“Not work for me.” He reached for her hand, but she kept her fingers straight and stiff as he held it. “The director of US retail is very impressed. She wants someone with your kind of drive on her team. I have the specifics of the offer with me, and proof from the employee handbook that as long as we work for separate departments, our relationship won’t be an issue for Nitrous.”

Breeze swallowed hard and blinked, trying to think of how to respond. Had he opened up to deepen what they shared, or only to get her to feel more comfortable with him and want to work for Nitrous? “Working for the same company would force us to keep hiding our relationship. Is that what you want?”

“There’s no need to do that. You’ll work at the store level, not even on the Nitrous campus. It will be better for you. Nitrous requires you have two days off a week, and take at least five weeks of vacation a year. Not like what you do now.”

True, she hadn’t taken a vacation since starting with Mendelssohn’s, and always worked six days a week. The thought of having too much time to herself niggled at her belly. What would she do if she couldn’t go to work?

“You’re still thinking we shouldn’t work for the same company. Really, it’s no big deal. Janelle and her husband both work at Nitrous. And on my team there’s a guy whose wife works in accounting.”

“Those people are married, Logan. We’re barely dating. If things don’t work out it’ll get awkward. And I’m on the right track with Mendelssohn’s.” Though as she rose in the company she’d have to start moving to where the positions were open, instead of being able to stay in her home state. Which meant she’d see her family even less, unless she went to them.

“Think about it later. Lose the shirt.”

“Excuse me?” She crossed her arms across her breasts, holding his shirt to her body at her sides.

“Look at the size of these disks? Do they give you any ideas?” He circled his finger and thumb around a white chocolate circle, holding it in the air.

“None.”

“Then I get to go first.” He picked up the box and walked to the bed, setting the box on the nightstand. “Come on.” He extended a hand.

“I’m not following you.”

“Ah, I see you need more convincing.” He stalked to the couch, nearly pouncing on top of her and unfastening her hands from her sides. “Chocolate melts.” He nuzzled into her neck, breathing against the spot behind her ear that made her squirm. “I’m going to lay you down. You’re so hot the disks will melt, and then I am going to lick off the chocolate.” His hands slipped under the hem of the shirt to grip her hips.

“I don’t know. What about you? That hardly seems fair.” The wheels of her mind started to turn, and turn the tables on him.

“Hey, if you want to play, I won’t stop you.” He stood, offering her a hand as they stepped to the bed. “Lose the shirt.”

“Not yet. You go first.”

He smiled and shucked his boxers, lacing his fingers behind his head as he lay back on the bed.

“Roll over.” She opened the lid of the box, watching his alarmed expression from the corner of her eye.

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“Don’t you trust me, Logan?” She sank a knee onto the bed and flipped one dark disk between her fingers. “I promise, you’ll like it.”

He rolled over. “Maybe we should set some ground rules.” She opened the tub of cocoa butter. The sound must have spooked him because he turned his head to her, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“Lie still and relax or this might hurt.” She bit her cheek to keep from grinning too wide.

“Seriously, what are you going to do?”

“Seduce you.”

He groaned, crossing his hands under his head and resting his forehead on them. Breeze placed the disk on the base of his neck.

“Now don’t move or it will fall off.” She dipped her fingers into the cocoa butter and smeared it on her palms. It warmed quickly, softening into the lubricant she’d hoped for.

She flattened her hands against his back, the cocoa butter letting her hands glide as she learned the nuances of his muscle and sinew. The sensual energy of touching him filled her, heating her blood, giving her a power and control she’d never dreamed of.

A powerful ache formed deep inside her, wanting nothing more than release. His release. Could she do that? Inspire that kind of response in him? He always took the lead, which she liked, needed even, but every once in a while maybe she could have the upper hand.

She worked her fingers on him, the broad expanse of his shoulders, the way his back narrowed down to his hips. The cocoa butter melted into his skin, making every motion fluid, every touch soft. The push and pull of the action became almost trancelike, until she dared to do what she’d been dying to since he first turned and walked away from her.

Gripping each of his butt cheeks in her hands she kneaded and rubbed, feeling the power beneath his skin. Not wanting to seem overly interested in one area, she worked her way up to his lower back, though he didn’t seem to have an ounce of knotted muscle or tension anywhere.

Her fingers glanced over the triangle of skin between his back and buttocks and he shivered. Surprised at her ability, she did it again. And so did he.

“You like that?” She probably should have placed a chocolate right here, at the base of his spine where he was so sensitive. But it was too late. The chocolate on the back of his neck had already softened, the edges melting into his skin.

Flattening her tongue on the base of his spine, she licked all the way up, smiling at the top. Not just from the taste of chocolate, but from her real prize, the way his hands fisted into the sheets.

He’d taught her how sensitive that tiny spot could be, how it connected every cell in your body. She licked and kissed it clean, running her teeth against his flesh to make sure.

In one swift move, he rose and flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. They laughed together, his more sinister than hers as he reached for the hem of the shirt and pulled it over her head. It tangled about her hands and she thought he was trying to help her pull free, but he stopped, leaving it more twisted than before.

“Logan, help me.” She struggled with the shirt, but he sat up and placed one warm hand against her arm.

“Leave it.” He reached for the box and pulled out the last of the white chocolate disks. “I’ll never be able to eat chocolate without thinking of you, just like this.”

One cool disk covered her left nipple. Breeze thought it might be balancing on the nipple, so hard it could surely tip and fall off. But before she could think too much about it he set another disk on the opposite nipple. And another at the base of her throat, and the last he placed just below her belly button.

Her breaths quick and frantic, she dared not close her eyes, not think about his skillful tongue removing the sticky sweetness she already felt melting. No wonder, she was so flushed she could melt more than chocolate.

He rubbed the rest of the cocoa butter on his hands and scooted down the bed. His hands rubbed her feet, just as they had when they’d first gotten back to the room. Except now it felt different, erotic instead of soothing, invigorating instead of calming. Like he was using her feet to touch her other places.

“Are you using reflexology points?”

“Why? Where do you feel this?” He rubbed along the instep of her foot and she felt a faint tingle, as if he were touching her nipples from the inside. His hands traveled back behind her ankle, massaging her Achilles tendon and intensifying the ache growing in her womb.

“I have gloves too.” She snuggled into the bed, a smile playing at her lips as she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations.

“Gloves?” He worked his way up her legs, massaging her calves.

“Like the socks, but showing where the touch points are in your hands. You have a magic touch.”

His touch traveled over her knees, up her thighs, which she parted willingly. But his hands merely skimmed the edge of her panties as he gripped her hips.

The kiss at her navel nearly had her arching off the bed. She would have, if she weren’t covered in chocolate disks. Though from the feel of his lips and tongue dancing about her stomach, she guessed the chocolate had melted into runny rivulets, if his fluttering tongue was any indication.

His body hovered above hers as he kissed a path between her breasts to the melted chocolate pooling in the dip where her neck met her torso. His pointed tongue seemed to draw it up, almost to her chin, ear, before nibbling it away.

The sounds of his satisfaction mingled with hers. In her mind’s eye she could see them, him hovering above her, her writhing beneath him, bare but for the black lace panties and white chocolate covering her nipples. The vision made her mouth water.

“Hurry,” a throaty voice whispered, filled with want. It couldn’t be her sounding so needy, could it?

“No.” He seemed intent to kiss every square inch of her body, as if this little game were a reward in and of itself. As if there weren’t something better they could be doing, together.

“Please. I don’t want to wait.” She struggled against the shirt binding her hands.

“Wait for what? If you tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it.” Sweet kisses peppered her rib cage, making her squirm.