Read Recipe for Desire Online

Authors: Cheris Hodges

Recipe for Desire (12 page)

BOOK: Recipe for Desire
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“I’m going to talk to my partner and see if we can offer her a part-time job,” she said.
He turned and faced her, feeling the urge to kiss her again. “Really?”
“I don’t know how much we can afford to pay her, but I’m going to try and make sure that will help her get back on her feet,” Marie said.
“That’s really great.” His heart warmed intensely, seeing this side of Marie.
“Well, I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Since my arrest, we’ve lost some contracts and I’m not sure where we stand financially.”
“I’m impressed that you want to help,” he said as he opened the passenger-side door for her. As Marie slid inside, Devon placed his hand on her knee. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said as she looked down at his hand. The heat from his hand made her shiver. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, they just sat there, an unspoken sexual tension crackling between them.
“Let’s do lunch,” he said. “I know an exclusive place where we can talk without interruption.”
“Just talk?” she asked, her voice oozing sensuality.
“I think we’ve moved beyond just talking,” he said as he leaned in to her. Marie wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his.
“Are you sure?”
“More than anything. What about you?”
Instead of replying, she slowly ran her tongue across his full lips, and Devon shuddered in hot delight before taking her offering into his mouth, relishing the minty taste of her kiss, and dancing his tongue in each corner and crevice of her hot and willing mouth. Reluctantly, he pulled back. Marie looked at him with surprise in her eyes. Was he about to change his mind? Was he about to talk about that imaginary line they weren’t supposed to cross? Didn’t he realize that after a kiss like that, the line had been crossed and erased?
“Let’s go,” he said as he tore away from her and headed for the driver’s side of the Mustang. Devon started the car, and while stealing glances at Marie, he peeled out of the parking lot.
For about a mile, they rode in silence, then Marie mustered up the voice to ask, “Where are we going?”
“To the most exclusive bed and breakfast in the city,” he replied as he turned down Davidson Street.
“How is it that I’ve never heard of this place?” she asked with her eyebrow raised. “I pride myself on knowing all of the hot spots in the city.”
“Like I said,” Devon replied as they pulled into the NoDa City View lofts, “exclusive.”
She looked up at the new housing complex and smiled. “You live here, huh?”
“Yes. And the food is amazing, if I do say so myself,” Devon replied.
“Is that so?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said as he pulled into a parking spot. Devon hopped out of the car and crossed over to the passenger side of the car before Marie could even remove her seat belt. He opened the door and lifted her from the car. Marie wrapped her arms around his neck and he brushed his lips against hers. “We have a lot of stairs to climb,” he said, then winked at her.
“I bet you carry all of your girls up the stairs,” she said.
“You would be the first I carried and brought here,” he replied. She eyed him suspiciously. There was no way this sexy man was celibate, not with all the thirsty women in Charlotte who would love to link up with a celebrity.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked as he climbed the stairs.
“Nope. It sounds like I should be erecting a statue to Saint Devon,” she quipped.
Devon shook his head and laughed. “Never said I was a saint, and I have something that’s very erect that you can crown.”
Marie was surprised at his brash tone, turned on, and ready to see where that crown would go as he unlocked the door to his loft.
Once they entered, he placed Marie on the leather sofa in the middle of the living room. Glancing around the room, she saw another side of Devon, rugged and über masculine. The room was decorated in deep browns and blacks, giving the area a smoldering tint, even with the blinds of the wide bay windows open and the sun slicing through. The soft leather against her legs made her wonder if they could be comfortable making love right in this spot. He straddled her body and lifted her legs, sitting them on the wooden coffee table in front of the sofa.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.
Marie nodded and stared into his eyes as he unbuttoned her shirt. Marie was so glad she decided to wear her favorite red lace bra as he pushed the tunic down her shoulder. Devon stroked her shoulder, moving his hands slowly down her body, causing her to writhe with anticipation. His fingers felt like butterfly wings as they moved down to the waistband of her leggings. With a quick motion, he’d slid them down her hips, his fingers moving against her skin like hummingbird wings. She could barely keep still, trying to move against his touch, but Devon held her in place. “Be still, woman,” he ordered. “I’ve been waiting to see these curves up close.” Devon slipped his forefinger under the lace crotch of her panties and sought out her throbbing pearl. She was so hot, so wet, and removing his finger, he brought it to his lips to find out she was so tasty. Marie moaned as he lifted her right leg to pull her pants all the way down. Easing between her legs, Devon rubbed her to a near climax through her lacy red panties before pulling them to the side and covering her sweet wetness with his mouth. Marie tossed her head back in ecstasy as he wrapped his tongue around her pleasure. Her thighs shivered and her body tingled as he expertly licked and sucked her to a loud orgasm. Marie had never screamed so loud as her body went limp. She’d nearly forgotten about her sprained ankle until her left foot slipped from the table and slammed on the floor. “Oww, oww, oww,” she howled. Devon grabbed her foot.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he removed her shoe, checking her bandaged ankle. “Should I take you to the hospital?”
“It’s all your fault,” she said, trying to joke through the pain. “That magical tongue of yours made me forget all about my injury.”
Devon told her to stretch out on the sofa, and he grabbed a pillow from the love seat in the corner and put it underneath her foot. “I’ll get you an ice pack and some Advil.”
Marie blew him a kiss as he headed upstairs. Closing her eyes, she wondered if this was ever going to happen. Maybe her foot slipping had been a sign that she should slow things down with Devon. But now that he’d given her another sample of what he could do to her body, the only thing that would keep her moving slowly would be her bum ankle.
Chapter 12
Devon stood in the kitchen wondering if he needed an ice pack for himself as well. His body wanted to melt with Marie so badly that he ached. And it was an aching that would stop them from doing anything. Her ankle. Grabbing the ice, a glass filled with orange juice, and a bottle of Advil, he headed into the living room. Even though Marie had a look of pain on her face, she looked so beautiful lying on the sofa, adding color and sex appeal to his room with that lacy red bra against her chocolate skin.
“Orange juice and Advil,” he said as he tapped two pills into her outstretched hand. Then he handed her the glass before placing the ice pack on her ankle.
“This isn’t the day you had planned, huh?” she asked after swallowing her painkiller.
“You know what they say about planning. Besides, I had no idea we’d end up here, together. My plan was to work you at the shelter.”
Marie took another sip of juice and nodded. “Right,” she said. “So, why did you bring me here?”
“I think that’s obvious,” Devon replied.
“Yes, but where do we go next?” she asked. “You tried so hard to deny what we both wanted. Do you feel like you made a mistake crossing that line?”
“No,” he said. “I feel like we haven’t crossed it enough. But, you have to get on both feet first.”
Marie looked down at her ankle. “Right.”
Devon leaned down and kissed her slowly, flicking his tongue against hers and making her moan. Her mouth was nearly as delicious as the rest of her. He didn’t have a problem admitting that she was becoming his addiction. And Devon had every intention of indulging in it every chance he got. Still, with her in pain, he had to pull back.
“Lunch. I still owe you lunch.” Devon handed her the remote to his TV. “I’m going to get cooking and you relax.”
“Careful, Mr. Harris,” Marie said with a smile. “I could get used to this really quickly.”
“Used to what?”
“You pampering me and waiting on me hand and foot.”
He winked at her. “Play your cards right and I might make a habit of it.”
While Devon was in the kitchen, Marie sat up, quickly dressed and then stretched her arms above her head, lazily resting against the sofa. When was the last time she’d been pampered by a man? Her normal MO was to get what she wanted and move on. Sure, she had been engaged to William, but that relationship had been about two things, shutting Greta up and trying to fit into the sensible pumps her father wanted her to wear. A wife and a mother. Less flamboyant and media hungry. But that wasn’t what she wanted for herself. However, she was seeing something new and different, something that was more important than her image as Charlotte’s party girl.
Maybe making a fool of myself that night was the best thing that happened to me,
she thought as she turned the TV on and flipped the channels mindlessly. When her cell phone rang, it startled her, and Marie nearly tumbled off the sofa when she reached for her purse. Looking at the time on Devon’s cable box, she was sure it wasn’t Adriana, because it wasn’t close to three o’clock. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway. “This is Marie Charles.”
“Hello, Marie,” a voice she wished she wasn’t hearing said. “Did you get the roses I sent you?”
“William, why are you calling me?” she snapped.
“I’ve been thinking about you and missing you. That’s why I sent you the flowers.”
“Funny, because two weeks ago you were telling me that you and Greta were rekindling your romance. Does she know your broke ass is using her credit cards again?”
“I’m not with Greta anymore. I heard about your incident with the car. I can’t believe your father didn’t get you out of it.”
“Why don’t you take a long walk off a short bridge? In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re done. I don’t want to see or hear from your sorry ass, understand?”
“Look, I was confused and I made a mistake. But I still want to marry you and—”
Marie clicked the phone off and dropped it in her bag. William had nerve, but she wasn’t going to allow him to mar her lunch with Devon. Whatever made him think he could slink back into her life, he could choke on it. Devon returned to the living room with two plates of strawberry and spinach salads. “The salmon is grilling, so I hope you enjoy the salad, for now.”
“It looks great,” she replied as she took her salad plate from his hand. “And strawberries are my favorite, though I usually like them dipped in chocolate.”
She took a bite of her salad and realized that chocolate wasn’t the only way to make her favorite fruit taste great.
“How is it?” he asked as he slowly ate his own salad.
“Delicious,” she replied, then licked her lips.
Devon set his plate on the table. “I forgot the wine,” he said. “Merlot cool with you?”
Marie nodded, then took another bite of her salad. Devon went into the kitchen, and she smiled, thinking that this was the first time she’d been on a lunch date where there weren’t photographers—either because she called them or was tossing a drink in someone’s face.
He returned and took his seat on the sofa beside her, then poured the wine for them. “A toast,” he said as he held up his glass.
“What are we toasting?” she asked before raising her glass.
“Getting to know the real Marie Charles.”
She raised her glass and tapped it against Devon’s. “I can drink to that.”
Devon took a sip of his wine and then headed back to the kitchen to check on the fish. Marie wished she could go into the kitchen with him, not because she wanted to help him cook; that he didn’t need help with. But she wanted to see if he had the kind of counters that could be used in her kitchen fantasy.
 
 
Devon lifted the salmon steaks from the pan and placed them on a bed of wild rice, then squeezed a lemon over the fish before topping it off with a sprinkling of his zesty blend of seasonings. After garnishing the plates with a sprig of parsley, he headed into the living room with their lunches. “That looks so good,” Marie said as he set the plates on the table.
“I forgot the wine again,” he said. “Do you want more?”
“No, I’d better not. The last thing I need to do is show up to the office smelling like wine,” she said.
“I have some sweet tea,” he said as he turned toward the kitchen.
“Sounds perfect,” she said as she picked up her plate and dug into the food. By the time Devon returned with two goblets of tea, half of Marie’s salmon steak was gone.
“Delicious,” she said in between bites. “This is the best salmon I’ve ever tasted.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said as he handed her the tea. “I pulled out all the stops for this lunch. Got to impress Charlotte’s it girl.”
Marie stopped drinking and tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I want to be that girl anymore.” She set her fork on the side of her plate and met Devon’s quizzical glance. “Look,” she said. “I know that I created this image of this party girl. I was trying to do something that would set me apart from my father. And I’m willing to admit that I took it too far.”
“You won’t get an argument from me. But why the whole party-girl thing? You’re obviously more than that; you have a big heart and you’re pretty smart.”
“And smart women get ignored and pushed aside by the media. I take my shirt off and I’m all over the news and headlining the papers,” she said. “Go figure. Maybe the party-girl image was just a way for me to ...” Marie stopped short of telling Devon about the nagging insecurities that she hid with her bravado and outlandish acts. Marie wanted to be recognized for being more than Richard’s daughter.
“You took your shirt off? How did I miss that?” he asked with a laugh.
“If this food wasn’t so good, I’d toss a piece of fish at you,” she replied. “But, yes, to raise awareness about animal abuse.”
Devon stroked his chin, thinking that seeing her topless would make him take notice of a lot of things; well, two things actually, but not animal abuse. “Well,” he said, “don’t you think that was very over the top?”
Marie nodded as she polished off her salmon. “Charlotte’s Mecklenburg Police felt the same way. Me and my friends were taken into custody. But PETA bailed us out and we raised about seven thousand dollars for a no-kill shelter in Gaston County.”
“OK,” he said. “So, how do you explain the car wreck?”
“Possibly the worst thing that ever happened to me or the best thing,” she said.
“Best thing?” he asked with his eyebrow raised.
“I’ve had to take stock in my life and make some decisions,” Marie said as she smiled at him. “This image of me and that I created has taken over who I really am.”
“And who are you?” he asked, setting his plate on the table and easing closer to her.
“That’s what I’m going to have to rediscover,” she replied honestly. She placed her hand on Devon’s knee. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.
“If you’re serious about it, it won’t be hard. Just do what’s in your heart and you will be fine.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and hoped that he was telling the truth. As Devon stroked her shoulder, Marie knew one thing for certain: This was how a man was supposed to treat a woman at all times. She and William posed for pictures, never had a real romance. He was a means to an end for her, and she was a step up the social ladder for him. Could Devon offer her something real? Would he want to take her on with all the baggage she came with? Glancing into his warm eyes, she hoped that he would. She was going to be a better person; did that mean she’d be able to fall in love with a better man? A man like Devon?
“Well,” he said after a comfortable silence had enveloped them. “I’d better get you to your office and I need to head to the restaurant.”
“Thanks for ... everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “And there is more to come.”
“I’m definitely looking forward to that,” she replied with a huge smile that melted Devon’s heart. Maybe Marie Charles wasn’t as much trouble as he initially thought.
Devon released her and took their plates into the kitchen. He could hear her moving around in the living room. Devon couldn’t wait to see her in a pair of those killer heels again and nothing else. After washing the dishes, he returned to Marie, who was walking gingerly to test out her ankle.
“You OK?” he asked.
“Not bad. I know this might be asking a lot, but I really want Bria to have these shoes, so ...”
“You want me to take you to the store to get another pair?”
She nodded. “If you have time. I still have a couple of hours before Adriana and I are scheduled to meet—and I’m not going to take that long.” She laughed.
“Let me call my sous-chef and let her know that I’m going to be late. Then we can head to Payless Shoes,” he said. Marie studied his face. Was he serious? She said she was willing to change, but there was no way in hell she was going to buy shoes from Payless.
“Umm, what?” she asked.
“They have BOGO, right?” he said, then burst into laughter. “I wish you could see your face right now.”
Marie didn’t have to see a reflection in the mirror to know that she was giving him a look akin to someone seeing hell frozen over. “I have a personal shoe shopper at Nordstrom.”
“Excuse me. I didn’t know that actually existed,” he said as he dialed the restaurant on his cell phone.
After handling the scheduling at the restaurant and getting assurances that everything was running fine in the kitchen, Devon drove Marie to SouthPark Mall. “Please tell me why women spend so much time and money on shoes,” he asked as they headed into the store. As they passed through the vast shoe department, every sales clerk knew Marie’s name.
“This is my Cheers,” she joked. “And we mostly buy shoes for men and other women to notice.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he said, thinking about the wildly high-heeled shoes Serena wore. “I have to say, under different circumstances, I would’ve loved to see you walking toward me in those shoes that you twisted your ankle in.”
“Really? You noticed them, despite the fact that you had your nose turned up at me as if I was the worst thing you’d ever seen?”
“I was simply wondering, what the hell is she thinking wearing those shoes to work in the kitchen?”
“To be honest, I’d hoped to not do any work. You showed me a thing or two,” she said.
Devon shrugged. “I had to,” he said. “I’m very serious about the work I do at the shelter.”
“Why is it so important to you?” she asked. “And I’m not asking because I think you have some motive behind it, but seeing your relationship with the ladies and how serious you are about it, it makes me wonder why you decided to give so much of yourself.”
Devon looked deep into Marie’s eyes and wondered how much to tell Marie about what was behind his work at the shelter. He didn’t like opening up about his past. In interviews, he’d been known to walk off the set if questions about his father came up. Outside of Kandace, no one knew the extent of what he and his mother had gone through and how helping women who couldn’t turn to anyone else for assistance went much deeper for him than simply giving back to the community. No one knew that it had been nearly a decade since he’d had a conversation with his father.
BOOK: Recipe for Desire
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