Not Again
(Liam)
Darcy bites her lip and all I want to do is kiss her.
“Only a few people know who I am. I’m trusting you. I believe I can.” I reach my hand into my pocket and pull out my wallet.
“What are you doing?” She asks, her brow creased.
I flick open the leather wallet and pull out my driver’s license. “Showing you my last name. My real last name.”
She holds up her hands in front of her, refusing the card. She closes her eyes and says, “I’m really flattered you’ve opened up to me. And that you want to tell me your real name. I feel so privileged.” She’s rambling. I don’t like where this is going.
I lean back in my chair, taking my license with me. She opens her eyes but avoids making eye contact with me. “I don’t know how to say this.” She pauses, but I continue to hold her eye contact.
“What, Darcy? What don’t you know how to say?”
“I don’t do second dates.” Her shoulders drop as she says it. So does my stomach.
“What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said. I don’t go on second dates.”
“Do you do third dates?”
“No, not second. Not third. Not fourth.”
“Does that mean you don’t have sex either?”
“Why would you say that?”
“You don’t strike me as the sort of girl who sleeps with someone on the first date.”
“Well, you’re wrong. Did you forget Austin already?”
“Hmm. I guess I did.” I don’t believe she doesn’t feel whatever is between us. She’s denying herself.
“Besides, that wasn’t even a first date.”
“I see. Is that how you get around your no-second-date rule?”
“No!”
“Someone’s protesting too much. But, since it matters to you, this is not a date. This is me apologizing for something.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. And when you come out with me next weekend, it will be you fulfilling your end of a deal and being my plus one at an event.”
“You don’t have an event next weekend.”
“I’ll find one.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Of course it counts. We made a deal.” Frustrated, I tug one end of my bow tie, leaving the ends to hang around my neck, and undo my top button. I stick my finger in the collar of my shirt to pull it away from my skin.
“Will it be black tie?” She asks, her eyes stuck on my collar. I laugh.
“If you want it to be.” Her eyes move to mine and I hold them in mine.
“I don’t want it to be anything. Remember, I haven’t decided if I’m going or not.”
“Oh yes, how could I forget I made a deal with someone who won’t hold up their end of the bargain? May I remind you how horrible it was to be at that wedding?”
“That wedding was even more awful for me.”
“Then why did we go?”
Darcy doesn’t say anything, instead she stares at me, her breathing rapid. I can’t stop watching her cleavage as it rises and falls with her breath. It’s mesmerizing. I want to bury my face in it but content myself with imagining cupping her perfect tits in my hands.
She breaks her silence and says, “I was fulfilling my end of the deal.”
The comment blindsides me. For whatever reason, I’d been naïve enough to believe she needed to go to the wedding.
“I have to go. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” She stands and, as fast as her tight dress allows, walks across the terrace. I move fast to catch up to her. Without touching her, I bring myself as close to her as I’m able.
“We haven’t had dessert yet.”
“I’m full.”
“You’ve barely touched your chicken.”
“The salad was very filling.”
We reach the door and I hold it shut to say, “I made the chocolate truffles myself.”
“You made truffles?”
“What can I say? I like working with chocolate.”
“Is that what you do with all the time you spend by yourself?”
I open the door and allow her to pass.
“Essentially. Let me give you some, to take with you.”
We’ve reached the top of the stairs and she looks at me, her bottom lip squeezed between her teeth.
“Fine.”
We descend the stairs in silence. At the bottom, I take her hand and guide her to the kitchen. Darcy doesn’t resist my touch and I hold her hand tighter.
“Wow, Liam, this kitchen is incredible.”
“This area over here is my chocolate zone. You need a marble surface to work with it properly.” I lead her to the large work area.
“And those other areas? I’d expect there to be a two-hundred-seat restaurant attached to a kitchen like this.”
I scan my kitchen, trying to see what she sees. I’ve had it for so many years that I can’t see anything other than an ordinary kitchen.
“Those areas are for my cook. I hate cooking.” I gesture to the other side of the island workstation.
“All that space to cook for one person?”
“And the meals for my staff.”
“Staff,” she laughs. “How many of them do you have?”
“Enough to keep my life in order.”
“And I suppose you all sit down to eat together and share stories about your days.”
I ignore the comment and pull a tray of truffles from a cupboard and set them on the marble counter in front of Darcy. They’re in rows of dark, milk and white chocolate. Most of them are balls but some are triangles and others diamonds. I can’t help but feel pleased with my own work.
“Wow, you really made these? They look so professional.”
“Taste one.”
“What flavors are they?”
“What do you like? A creamy center or something hard that you have to suck on?”
“That’s a tough one. Normally, I’d choose hard every time, but tonight I think I’ll go with the creamy center.”
“Sweet or salty?”
“Salty?” She asks, her brow raised.
I pick up a whipped salted pecan dark chocolate truffle for her. Ignoring her hands, I bring it to her lips.
“Open,” I command.
She relaxes her jaw and I gently push the truffle into her mouth, letting my finger linger against the fullness of her lips as long as possible.
Darcy moans loudly, causing her cheeks to redden and her hand to shoot to her mouth.
“That good?” I ask, the left side of my mouth turned up. If she moans like that with chocolate, I can’t wait to hear what she sounds like in my bed.
“Oh my God. That’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”
“I’m sure I can find something you’ll like more.” I brush my fingers over her cheek as I tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
Her big blue eyes turn up to mine, so filled with sorrow they may as well have the word regret written across the whites of her eyes. We’re close, and I can smell the chocolate on her breath. I rub my thumb over her lips to wipe away the chocolate.
Darcy steps backwards, finding herself against the counter.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she sidesteps along it.
Moving fast, I put my arm in front of her, grasping the cold marble countertop in my hand. With the other hand, I cage her in.
“I’m not letting you run from me again.”