Authors: Cheris Hodges
Recipe for Desire (10 page)
“And on that note, I’m going to clean up the kitchen and go home,” Devon said, then headed for the kitchen. Sometimes when he was with Alicia, Kandace, Serena, and Jade, he felt as if he was the fifth girlfriend in their circle. Amazing that they had remained friends after the nasty breakup he and Kandace had nearly a decade ago. He could understand why Solomon would have a problem with the two of them working together. But Devon wasn’t the type of man to go after a woman who could never belong to him. His desire for Kandace had waned long ago. But he couldn’t ignore his growing need for Marie. Her lips, their kiss, and the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest were burned into his brain like a tattoo. Just how in the hell was he supposed to work with her now when all he could think about was that amazing kiss and those dangerous curves?
Marie popped two anti-inflammatory pills, then washed them down with the glass of Simply Apple juice her father had poured for her. “Just like the old days,” Richard said fondly as he handed Marie a peanut butter and banana sandwich, sliced in half with the crust cut off. Marie couldn’t help but smile as she took the plate from her father’s hand. He’d been making her favorite sandwich the same way since she came home crying because Joey Porter had called her ugly and pulled her hair when she was in the fifth grade.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she replied. “I’m glad you came over tonight.”
“So, how did this happen again?” he asked as he took a seat on the chaise across from the sofa, where Marie was stretched out.
“I wore the wrong shoes to My Sister’s Keeper and slipped.”
“Was the floor wet? Did they have a sign up?”
Marie took a bite of her sandwich and threw her hand up. “It was my fault,” she said after swallowing. “I’d hoped that my community service would’ve been less service and more sitting.”
Richard shook his head. “If you’re working in an unsafe environment ...”
“Daddy,” she said. “I was the one who wore Jimmy Choo heels when I should’ve expected to do some work. But Devon took good care of me.”
“Devon? Who is he?”
“The chef who’s supervising my community service,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. Somehow, Richard seemed to see what Marie was trying to hide.
“I hope you know getting involved with this man while you’re doing community service with him is a mistake.”
Marie sighed and took another bite of her sandwich. If only she could explain to her father that after one scorching kiss, she didn’t give a damn if it was a mistake; she simply wanted to feel his lips against hers again.
Richard rose to his feet and smiled. “Since I see that you’re all right and you’ve eaten, I’m going to go. I have court in the morning.”
“I’d walk you to the door,” she said, then pointed to her ankle. “But, you know.”
He crossed over to his daughter and kissed her on the forehead. “Marie, please take this community service seriously and remember that Devon is in a position of power over you. You cannot and should not cross the line with him.”
“Yes, sir,” she said and offered him a mock salute. Richard shook his head, wondering why he even wasted his breath. He knew Marie would do what she always did: anything she wanted. He just wished his daughter would do a little more growing up.
Chapter 10
The next morning, Marie woke up to find that the swelling in her ankle had subsided slightly. Smiling, she limped out of bed, showered, and searched for the flattest pair of shoes she had. She ended up slipping into a pair of two-year-old, barely worn Converse All Stars. The shoes were specially made for her during that period of time when everyone in the world thought Converse sneakers were the coolest thing in the world. She slipped into the silver, purple, pink, and green shoes and realized why she hadn’t worn them to the Chuck Taylor party that her marketing company had hosted—she was short. Today, however, Marie was glad she hadn’t thrown the shoes away. She could move around her bedroom, albeit very slowly, without the crutches, but she wondered if she would be able to work in the shelter without them. As she called her father’s car service to come and pick her up, she decided to take one of her crutches with her, hoping and praying that trying to walk with it would give her something else to think about. Something other than the taste of Devon’s mouth. Slipping the crutch underneath her left arm, Marie headed for the kitchen. She figured that she’d better eat breakfast before heading into work. Sadly, all she had to eat in the kitchen was a bagel, since she normally ate breakfast out. As she brewed a cup of coffee in her Keurig machine, Marie promised herself to buy some eggs at the supermarket later. Marie dropped a sesame seed bagel into the toaster and leaned against the counter, wondering if Devon did more than just cook in the kitchen. Would he take her on the counter, using chocolate and sugar as he licked her until she shivered with anticipation and desire? Would he wrap her legs around his waist as he thrust into her, touching her most sensitive spot while she screamed his name?
“Stop thinking about that man,” she muttered as she snapped the pod in place. “He plays by the rules.”
Just as her bagel popped up in the toaster, her cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“Marie, it’s Devon,” he said, his voice thick and deep, causing her knees to quiver.
“Hi,” she said. Then she wondered why he was calling her.
“I just wanted to let you know that I called your probation officer and informed him of your accident, so if you can’t make it in today, it won’t count against you.”
Disappointment snaked through her body, though she did appreciate his thoughtfulness. “I plan to come in to the shelter today, I’m actually waiting for the car service,” she said.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s still sore, but the swelling has gone down some.”
“That’s good to hear. And you have flat shoes to wear today?” he asked.
Marie laughed. “I do.”
“Why don’t I come and pick you up? I’ll even bring you breakfast,” he said.
There was so much more she wanted him to bring her, she thought as she looked at the clock on the wall. If she was going to accept his ride, which she was, then she needed to call the car service and cancel. “I need to call my driver,” she said as she tossed her half-burnt bagel in the trash. “Thanks for the ride. I guess I’ll have some coffee ready for you.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’m not a big coffee drinker. I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
Marie smiled brightly. “All right.” She ended the call and quickly phoned the car service, letting them know that she didn’t need to be picked up after all. Moving as quickly as she could, Marie went back into her bedroom to make sure her outfit—black leggings and a white tank top tunic—and her hair were impeccable. As she slathered lip gloss on her lips, she heard the door buzzer go off. Now she wanted to slap herself for not having an intercom installed in her bedroom so that she could tell the doorman to send Devon up. She hobbled to the front door and pressed the Talk button on the machine. “Yes?”
“Mr. Devon Harris is downstairs,” the doorman said. “And you have a package.”
She heard Devon say he would bring the package to her, if that was all right. “Please send him up and he can bring the package,” Marie said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. But why was she so excited to see forbidden fruit? Because she knew she couldn’t have it and it made her want him even more. Just like when she was a little girl and begged for a pony.
She opened the door and offered Devon a slight smile as he walked in and handed her a box from a florist. “Where do you want me to put breakfast?” he asked after saying hello.
“The coffee table is fine. Thanks for this,” she said. “This will be the first time I get to taste the food of the illustrious Devon Harris.”
Devon laughed as his eyes roamed Marie’s body before setting the bag of breakfast treats on her coffee table. He brought warm croissants with peach preserves, salmon cakes, and grits with cheddar cheese and baked apple slices covered in cinnamon.
“That’s a lot of food,” she said as she looked at the arrangement on her table. “You eat like this every morning?”
“I’m thinking of doing breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays at Hometown Delights, so I made some samples for the ladies of what we could offer. It’s hard to cook for one person,” he said. “Especially when you’re used to feeding masses.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling a bit disappointed. Marie had thought this breakfast had been something special just for her. She needed to purge those thoughts from her mind. Devon was just a nice guy. Something she wasn’t used to, considering her dating history and her asshole of an ex-fiancé.
“What did they think of it?” she asked.
“You’re going to be the first to sample it,” Devon said as she sat on the sofa. “Where are your plates?”
“The cabinet above the sink,” she said, then attempted to stand. “I could get ...”
“Keep your seat,” he replied as he took off toward the kitchen. When Devon left the room, Marie felt as if she could breathe normally again. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding her breath, acting as if she was just cool with him being there and feeding her. If this was supposed to make her want him less, chill her hormones to him, it wasn’t working.
Devon knew he was playing with fire as he walked into Marie’s kitchen. She had a ride to the shelter, she had enough money to buy her own damned breakfast, and she was so cute in those sneakers. He reached up into the cabinet and grabbed two plates. Setting them on the counter, Devon walked to the entrance of the kitchen and asked, “Do you want some juice or should I fix this coffee in the brewer for you?”
“I can ... coffee and juice,” she said with a smile that made Devon’s heart flip like an Olympic gymnast.
“Gotcha,” he said. “What kind of juice do you have in the refrigerator?” Devon turned toward the stainless steel ice box, wondering if she actually had food in there or if she just got the top-of-the-line refrigerator because it matched her décor.
“There’s some blueberry juice and orange juice. You can just mix them for me,” she called out.
Devon shook his head as he opened the door and pulled out the bottles of juice. He mixed them as she’d asked, then grabbed the coffee mug from the counter that Marie had obviously put there for her morning shot of caffeine. “How do you take your coffee?” Devon asked.
“Cream, four sugars,” she replied.
“That’s a lot of sugar.”
“What can I say? I’m extra sweet,” she quipped. He knew one thing was certain: She did have the sweetest kiss he’d ever tasted. He was sure that it didn’t come from the four sugars in her coffee, though. After fixing the juice and coffee, Devon gathered the mug, the plates, and the glass of juice, then headed into the living room to feed Marie.
She’d gotten a head start on eating, he discovered when he entered the living room and she was biting into a croissant dripping with preserves. As he watched her lips close around the fresh bread, Devon felt a tightness in his crotch. Then, as she licked the peach preserves from her lips, he wanted to feel those lips again. Needed them pressed against his.
This is wrong,
he thought as he crossed over to her. “Here you go,” he said as he handed her the juice and set the coffee and plates on the table in front of her. When he noticed a bit of peach on her chin, Devon wiped it away with his thumb and held her chin. They gazed into each other’s eyes; the air sizzled with sensuality and unspoken desire. Marie tilted her head slightly and brushed her lips against his. Devon captured her lips, savoring her unique sweetness and the tang of the peach preserves. He’d wanted to kiss her since the moment he walked into her penthouse, and it was a delicious treat this morning.
he thought as he crossed over to her. “Here you go,” he said as he handed her the juice and set the coffee and plates on the table in front of her. When he noticed a bit of peach on her chin, Devon wiped it away with his thumb and held her chin. They gazed into each other’s eyes; the air sizzled with sensuality and unspoken desire. Marie tilted her head slightly and brushed her lips against his. Devon captured her lips, savoring her unique sweetness and the tang of the peach preserves. He’d wanted to kiss her since the moment he walked into her penthouse, and it was a delicious treat this morning.
Marie pressed her hand against his chest. “You’re going to have to stop teasing me, Devon,” she said in a husky whisper.
“Teasing you?” he replied. “I’m teasing myself.”
“How so? I can give you just what you want,” she replied, then slowly stroked his cheek. Devon’s erection nearly burst through his zipper as he took two steps back from her.
“We can’t,” he said. “This isn’t right.”
“No one has to know. We want each other, and I don’t know if this community service is going to work with me thinking about you naked every time I walk in the door. Besides, if it’s horrible, we don’t have to worry about it again.”
Devon folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side. “It won’t be horrible,” he said defiantly.
“Then stop talking and prove it to me.”
He shook his head and smirked coolly. “In five hundred hours, I’d be happy to. Marie, I don’t want to take advantage of you, and you’re not going to do the same to me.”
If she could’ve leapt to her feet, she would’ve gotten in his face and slapped him as hard as she could. “Why do think I’m going to take advantage of you?”
“I’m just saying,” he said. “I don’t want it to look as if you’re getting special treatment because ...”
“Thanks for the breakfast,” she said. “But why don’t you go. I’ll get to My Sister’s Keeper on my own.” Her comely face was contorted with an angry scowl, and Devon couldn’t turn away from her.
“Marie, let’s be real for a second. I don’t know you, only what I’ve read about you in the papers and seen on TV. If I’m wrong about the image you’ve created for yourself, then prove it to me.”
“I don’t have to prove a damned thing to you.”
“You’re right, you don’t. But I’m not trying to play games or ...”
“Or what?” she snapped. “Take the stick out of your ass and do something that you want to do?” Marie slowly rose from her seat on the sofa. She tottered over to Devon and tilted her head. “Sorry that I’m not one of your fans falling at your feet and being sugary sweet. That’s not who I am and that’s why you want me.”
“I want you because sometimes you’re sweet and very sexy. Right now, you’re acting like the spoiled brat I read about in the news. Big turn off,” he said, his voice cool, but as he stared into her eyes, his body was anything but.
She sucked her bottom lip in. Did he just say that to her? Marie wasn’t used to a man talking to her like that. She gave orders and he did what she said. Was Devon worth the headache? Yes, he was, she surmised after giving him a cool once-over that tugged at the irrational anger that she’d built up. Devon was right, she had worked hard to build her party-girl reputation. She’d given very provocative quotes to the press, pulled stunts that did make her look as if she would do whatever she wanted to get ahead. She couldn’t blame Devon for being apprehensive about going there with her. Now her father’s warning about her need for any and all press made sense.
“Listen,” she said after taking a cooling and calming breath. “I can take a hint, and you don’t want to cross this imaginary line you’ve drawn. But for the record, if we do cross that line, I understand that it would have nothing to do with my community service.”
Devon placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. “Glad we have an understanding,” he said. She glanced at his hand on her shoulder and promised herself that she would not come on to him again. But his touch sent sizzles down her spine and she felt a hot pool of moisture forming in her panties as he stroked her shoulder.
“Do you want to finish your breakfast before we go?” he asked. “I’m actually kind of hungry.”
Marie nodded. “All right, let’s eat and then go to work.”
Despite promises he’d made to himself to keep his hands to himself, Devon picked Marie up and sat her on the sofa. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself; we have a lot of work to do at My Sister’s Keeper today.”
Once she was sitting down, Marie gave him a salute. “Yes, sir,” she said, then grabbed another croissant. Devon eased onto the seat beside Marie and filled their plates with the food, and they ate in an uncomfortable silence as they stole glances at one another.
“This is good,” Marie said as she spooned preserves in her grits.
“Thanks,” he said, then laughed. “I’ve seen people put a lot of things in grits, but never peach preserves.”
“I told you, I like sweet things.”
“I see,” he replied as he polished off a salmon cake. Marie held her fork out to him.
“Try it.”
Devon allowed her to feed him her concoction, and surprisingly, it was tasty. The buttery grits and the sweet peach gave his taste buds a surprise. It reminded him of the woman feeding him. Spicy, sweet, and sticky.
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