Velvet Kisses(57)

Marley lets out a violent scream that reverberates over the walls, and I’m half afraid Annie and Blake are about to rush through the door with a fire extinguisher again. We have been known to start a blaze or two.

She forcibly scoots herself off. Her wild hair splays all around. Her eyes burn with an insanity of their own.

Marley lands her hand to my cheek a little rougher than necessary, and, for a second, I wonder if she’s slapping me. Her chest heaves uncontrollably. Her eyes remain low and heavy.

“I love you,” she pants. Her mouth falls open a little wider, gaping at the misstep her tongue just took—“for that.” She tries to play it off, or at least I hope. “That was amazing.”

I give a slow blink. “You’re welcome.”

My fingers graze her hair, and I nod into her puddle-blue eyes.

I love you, too, Marley.

Funny, love wasn’t in the contract. Hell, it was evicted from both our vocabularies just a few weeks ago. But this, whatever this may be, hit us over the head like a tornado on fire. It picked us up and is holding us hostage in some magical realm with nothing but the crackle of lightning all around—nothing but the snap of the electricity that we seem to generate when we’re together.

This is it. This is the real deal.

Marley and I may not have wanted to find it, but it sure as hell found us.

Now if only one of us were willing to admit it. I’m betting it won’t be her.

Marley falls over me, wet and sticky, hot to the touch like a firebrand.

At the least I gave her something to write about.

At best I gave her a taste of that intangible beast called love.





What’s Love Got to do With It?





Marley





A week drills by, correction, Wyatt is doing all the drilling. It’s bliss like this with him. Our office time is just as delicious as our alone time. I sleep, eat, and breathe Wyatt James—literally. And, just the fact that I get to be literal about something of this orgasmic nature makes me giddy from head to toe.

Baya, Annie, and Izzy all have their eyes peeled on me.

“So what’s new?” Izzy tilts in as if expecting the low down.

“Nothing much.” Oh, what the hell. “Are you kidding? I’ve been compiling carnal data as if a monumental government grant were on the line—as if I were completing a doctoral degree in debauchery. Technically, I might be. Who knows what scholastic enterprise I’ll be able to parlay my carnal knowledge into? I might just give Masters and Johnsons a run for their raunchy research money. Scale that back. I might just give myself a bit of liberation from the oppression held over women since time immemorial. Nah. A memoir definitely sounds more lucrative. And, God knows, a dollar still has the power to make me holla’. Can I get an amen?”

“Amen?” Annie looks confused by the concept, and I stomp out the urge to giggle.

Baya snatches my coffee from me. “I don’t think the caffeine is doing you any favors.”

“Very funny.” I take it back and indulge in a nice long swig.

“Would you stop with all the bizarre levels of happy?” Baya snatches my cup back. “It’s making you sound like a lunatic.”

“Like you’re one to talk. And enough with the musical mugs.” I steal my coffee and cradle it protectively like a missing child. “You have your own.”

Annie holds back a laugh. “I have to admit, I was worried about you last fall, but, now, you’re a whole new you.”

“What a difference a couple of seasons make.” Izzy raises her latte my way.

We’re sitting in Hallowed Grounds, hovering over hot coffee while the sun does it’s best to melt the last of the snowfall outside. It’s going to be an early spring, and no one could be happier than me.

“It is exciting. I have to admit”—my fingers strum over my cup with a nervous energy I don’t remember feeling before—“I think I’m in love.” The glee dissipates from me as if that word alone had the power to vacuum it out. I knock my cup over, and I’m quick to right it. Thankfully just a few drops managed to escape the lid, and Izzy mops up the rest with her napkin. “I meant—I’m in love with the situation.” God! If there weren’t a crowd I might have dumped the hot coffee right over my head. I hate love. Love is a four letter, dirty, egg-sucking word. Well, romantic love in the least.

My heart beats erratic as if trying to call me out on the lie.

Annie gives my arm a light tap. “It’s okay if you have feelings for him. I’ve been journaling how happy you are whenever you talk about him, whenever you come home from work or a night out. You’ve really transformed into a whole new person. It’s as if a dark cloud hovered over you when you were with Will, and now that Wyatt is in your life the sunlight has exploded right over your face.”