Free Bittersweet Chocolate by Emily Wade-Reid Page A

She came to a full stop on the threshold.
    They were everywhere.
    Bodies sprawled on the floor, couples lounging on the furniture, listening to mellow music, talking in subdued tones, and a few dancing. Someone had set the mood by turning off the lights and lighting several scented candles. The only other illumination came from the open stereo.
    Stepping over pairs of legs, she made her way to the chair Darien occupied, flopped down on the chair arm, leaned back, and closed her eyes. “Your idea?”
    “What’s with you and Gray,” Darien countered.
    From behind half-lowered lids, she glanced at Darien. “Nothing yet. Why, do you want him?”
    “Hell no, I like Rick. Besides, Gray has had a thing for you since that first night. Haven’t you forgotten someone?”
    “Nope, didn’t forget, and the attraction is mutual. Eventually, we’ll do something about it.”
    “Yes!” Darien sounded more excited about the prospect than Marissa.
    “Hey, I thought you were a Joel fan.”
    “I thought so too. But since the two of you moved in together, he ain’t right. It’s been what, over a year, hell, almost two, and he’s been acting strange lately.” Darien shook her head. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t trust him.”
    The perfect opening—an ideal opportunity to reveal the strange things that had happened between her and Joel. To tell Darien would be the same as telling Brad, who treated Marissa like family. Brad would deal with Joel, before word reached Marissa’s cousin Frank and the issue needed gang resolution. On the other hand, considering her relationship with Joel over, the end only needing finalizing, she didn’t tell Darien about the conflict.
    “I agree. I don’t trust Joel anymore. It’s been weird.”
    “Marissa, get away before it goes bad. Uh-oh.” Darien nudged Marissa and nodded toward Graham as he approached. “Girl, what did you do to him? He’s coming at you with a purpose.”
    “Dance, Marissa.”
    It wasn’t a question or a request because he jerked her to her feet, not waiting for a response. She giggled when he yanked her into his arms. Body pressed against his, she couldn’t mistake his physical distress.
    The soulful sound of “Try Me” by James Brown emanated from the stereo. A slower, more suggestive song, she couldn’t have come up with, or timed better, if she’d planned it. Everything except Graham and the music faded.
    Hands caressing her back moved downward, slipping into the back pockets of her dungarees, cupping her ass, and he molded her body more firmly to his. “Marissa.” Warm breath swept across her ear. “Girl, you walked out leaving me like this.” His erection throbbed against her.
    “Ouch, poor baby.”
    He frowned. “What about Joel?”
    “What about him?”
    “Enough said.”
    Graham wore Levi dungarees and a t-shirt conforming nicely to the well-muscled contours of his physique. She tugged his shirt out of his pants and slipped her hands beneath the soft material, stroking his back, so hot to the touch. Bodies moving intimately together, her hold tightened as an exquisite rush of pleasure surged through her.
    “Gray...” His name slipped out just as the song ended. They should have moved apart, but she resisted. Graham threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head and easing it forward. He briefly kissed her mouth before his hand tightened into a fist tugging her away.
    “Oh yeah,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s going to happen.”
    Her heart tripped, her pelvic muscles convulsed, yet somehow she found the strength to move away.
    By two in the morning, except for Graham, Darien, and Richard who stayed to help her clean up, her other guests had departed. With the apartment restored to pre-party conditions, Darien and Rick said goodnight and left together.
     
    Alone with Graham, when he held out his hand, without a moment’s hesitation she placed her hand in his. Conversation was unnecessary. They wanted the same