Seasons of Love (BWWM Interracial Romance)

Chapter Two - Falling Leaves in Autumn

Standing in the aisles of tables at the flea market, I couldn't figure out if I was being taped for a reality show or if Clark really was flirting with an eighty-year-old woman just to get a good price on a silk throw pillow.
"Ahhh but Mrs. DuBois, that throw pillow of yours doesn't have a match. I happen to have the other, and I'm guessing you don't want yours. What is a woman in your prime doing holding on to such a relic?" I would've rolled my eyes but the woman was practically purring at Clark's attention.
"Well, Mr. Pinot, you do drive a bargain, but I didn't want to give it up for so little." The elderly woman with the crochet shawl said to him, and I think I saw her bat an eyelash.
"Is gaining my company for an hour and also a pair of crystal earrings so little?" Clark put his hand to his heart as if he was offended. Good grief!
"You promise that you will come by and help hang my hydrangeas?" The woman looked at him with scrutiny.
"You have my word as a gentleman, Mrs. DuBois." He gave her this sweeping bow and a wink. I didn't know whether to laugh or to be disturbed. I knew he was a player, but hitting on old ladies? He looked at me and gave me a wink. I could swear I could almost see the temptation in his eyes to do a victory lap around the tables. I smiled back. Clark Pinot was definitely a character.
As he came to me, holding his hard-won pillow under his arm, his mirth was contagious. I smiled back at him, and he stopped short.
"Wow, that's amazing. I can now die a happy man." Confused, I tilted my head to the side. "Your smile, Justine, is stunning. You've granted my wish of a smiling female."
Laughing I swatted him on his shoulder. He wasn't about to win me over with his smooth talking.
"Oh please, Clark, you've had all the women in here smiling for the last hour."
"Yes, but none of them are you." Rolling my eyes at him I pointed at the pillow.
"So you really needed that pillow? For what? I thought you were staying at Seb's?"
"I can't say, but you've seen those two together. I couldn't possibly be locked in doors with them all day," he said, wagging his eyebrows at me. I knew all too well what he meant.
"Yeah, true. So what have you been doing with yourself since you've been here? From what T tells me, you are only here a few days at a time, then back to Britain for a few more days."
"Aww, have you missed me beautiful Justine?" He was smiling, but I could tell he wasn't playing with his words; he honestly wanted to know if I missed him!
"No, I just like to know when I need to don my armor to protect me from the cheesiness you ooze," I said partially smiling.
"Cheesiness? You think I'm cheesy?"
"As cheddar," I said, stopping in the middle of our stroll at the outdoor market to look at a train set. I've been fascinated with the old train sets for as long as I could remember. My uncle got me started on them, and I kept looking for pieces every chance I got.
"Why am I cheesy?"
"Clark, I'm sure the women you are used to being around are quite used to the compliments every second, the flirting looks and the whole shebang, but I'm not one of them. To me, it seems a bit much."
"So compliments are cheesy? Not that I don't believe you, but you should be questioning the men you hang around rather than the women I hang around. If you have to wait for a compliment, Justine, then they are the ones with problems, not me."
What do you do when someone takes the wind out of your argument? That's right, more shopping.
"Sir, how much do you want for this trolley?" I said to the white-whiskered man behind the table. Not that Clark didn't have a point, but I had carefully crafted my view of him, and in the mere two hours we'd been together, he'd managed to blast holes in almost every excuse I'd given myself on why Clark Pinot was not dating material. Between Clark and being a part-time wedding planner for Topaz, I needed something to remain stationary, unchanging, and reliable. Looking at Clark and the way his eyes would fluctuate between a light amethyst to a dark violet, I felt he was not the stationary or unchanging type.
Six hours later, we were sitting in my apartment, staring at the bags that were beginning to fall off the coffee table and the sofa and on to the floor. I didn't know what was mine and what was his. I do remember fighting over who was going to pay for what at the flea market and having an argument over keeping the bags straight so I could just drop him off at Sebastian's, but somehow they ended up lumped in together, and he hauled them all upstairs to my loft.
"This is so bad," I muttered.
"It isn't so bad. Maybe it is just all the tissue paper." He shrugged and looked at me. There it was again, that laughter in his eyes that made them look like the irises were dancing. I shook my head and kicked off my tennis shoes.
"No, it's bad. You are worse than the devil on my shoulder. Why did you tell me to buy everything? You're supposed to talk me out of some things."
"You were doing fine with talking yourself out of enough things; I thought you needed a push in the other direction."
"I still think I owe you something on those antique train cars. I need wine; want any?"
"If you don't have anything stronger, yes, wine would be fine."
"I've got some cognac, but we can have that after something to eat. And no, that pretzel dog doesn't count. I still can't believe you ate three of those things," I said as I made my way into the kitchen. Topaz and I used to be the queens of quick fixes, but since she moved in with Sebastian, there had been no reason for us make ramen noodle stir-fry. I smiled even though the memory left me feeling somewhat sad.
"I'd never seen such a thing and those were heavenly. But I could use a bit more. I worked up an appetite." I noticed he'd shed his shoes too and had come into the kitchen.
"You know you're worse than some women I know. Why did you need stir sticks? And isn't this a bit much to get through customs when you head back to England?"
"I like having a well-stocked bar and don't you worry about me heading back across the pond. Are you that eager to get rid of me?" I laughed at his crestfallen look. I handed him a glass of red wine and as I watched as his mouth touch the glass, I felt my pulse quicken. I bet he could go down on a woman for hours. Taking a large gulp of the wine, I didn't know where that thought came from. I'd just watched him for hours, flirting with sales attendants, or anything that was a female. It was his aura; it had to be. Everything about him whispered, "you want me." Okay, maybe it was just me that was saying I want him, but I wasn't going to cross that line. I've heard the line "don't hate the player, hate the game," and quite personally I was annoyed with both the game and the players.
"I wouldn't say that I'm eager to get rid of you; you've been like a brother to Topaz and she doesn't have much family. Me, I'm a big girl. I won't cry." I smiled and moved back into the kitchen. I needed food so I could get to a stronger drink.
"What's on the menu?" I almost scaled the wall at the sound of his voice in my ear. His thick British accent and the warmth of his breath made me quiver. Looking at my wineglass, I saw it was barely half gone. Okay, so I'm not drunk. Its just his voice sounds like Daniel Craig's, and I'm tempted to see if he's packing a piece that's a double '0' seven. Shit! I put my hand to my chest and turned to look him in the eye, his expression looking just as confused as my hormones were.
"Noise, man, make some noise so I know you're coming." Shit if that didn't sound like an innuendo... I hoped the double meaning went past undetected. From the small hitch in the corner of his mouth, I could tell that it hadn't.
"The menu?" His voice had dropped an octave, and his eyes turned a deep shade of violet.
"Yes, um, how do you feel about fish?"
"Do you have a beer?"
"Are you that much of an alcoholic?" I said, going to the fridge and pulling out one of the cans. I don't really drink beer, but it was handy to have around.
"No I'm not, but I'm very much into fish and chips, so if you point me to the pantry, I will make the batter."
"Get out, you cook too?"
"Not like Seb, no, but my mother wasn't going to have a lazy son who didn't know his way around a kitchen. So, let's get to it, shall we?" He plucked the can out of my hand and gave me a slow smile. I'm sure that was the way the wolf looked at red riding hood before he showed his teeth.
It was nice cooking with Clark; we moved with ease around in my small kitchen. As we sat and ate, we went through the piles of bags and had everything separated into his and her piles. I couldn't believe we'd spent the whole day together and it was nice. We'd decided to relax on the couch with our snifters of cognac after dinner, watching a show on the BBC.
"So you've talked a lot about Topaz finding her perfect mate, what about you? What is your idea of perfect?" His question caught me off guard. I had no idea what perfect was until I saw Topaz with Sebastian, and it made me long for what they held, and it also made me jealous. Again, I'm a terrible friend.
"There is no such thing as perfect, Clark. There are levels of 'working'" I said, making air quotes, "in a relationship. It is either not working, working a bit, requires too much work, or works just enough where I won't do hard time."
"That's a bit cynical isn't it? Love and a relationship is work, I agree, but what about passion and the desire to not be anywhere else?"
"This coming from the self-proclaimed lothario? I don't think we've spent any moment together where you haven't mentioned making a conquest out of some willing female."
"That's where you are wrong," he said, straightening up on the couch and turning to face me. The lines on his face had softened, but somehow, I could still see he was every bit of the military-hardened man that he was. I was so busy watching his lips, I almost missed what he was saying. "I'm not pursuing just a good time, although I've had plenty. I'm looking for le coupe de foudre."
"That bolt of lightning you're looking for might miss you if you are busy jumping from bed to bed," I said, frowning at how close his face was to mine. I pulled my turtleneck up around my neck.
"What makes you think I jump from bed to bed?" I rolled my eyes.
"Come on, you said it yourself, 'you wanted to be with the single ladies' table,' you wanted to 'spend the day with a smiling female,' shall I go on?" His eyes dropped to my mouth again. I sucked in my bottom lip; I really don't need him doing the "subliminal tango" with me. I know what all those looks mean. I've been around Sebastian and Topaz for months now.
"That doesn't mean that I've slept with them all." His voice was low and raspy.
"That doesn't mean that you didn't try," I said getting up off the couch. I set the snifter down on the table and walked out to my balcony. The sun was setting, casting a comforting orange glow over the turning leaves. It was my favorite time of year, the transition into autumn, and I found the hues of oranges, yellows, and reds comforting. Taking in a deep breath, letting the partially chilled air fill my lungs, I knew I had to get a grip. What are you doing? You know dang well Clark Pinot is nothing but a rolling stone with an accent. Who's to say you can't have a bit of a fling before he leaves? I sighed. Flings weren't in my nature. Even as I tried to summon up some of my courage to just flirt with the man, I couldn't even do that. It's funny how when you are warring with yourself, you can't pick a side.
"Well that is one way to end a discussion." His voice made me gasp. It was a rich baritone that vibrated when he laughed, like it was doing now. I had to cross my legs to keep my wayward womanhood under control.
"There was nothing to discuss. You have your opinion, and I've got mine. You don't make it in this world without having to drop the rose-colored glasses sometimes. I'm not jaded on love, I just don't think it is perfect, and I haven't found the other half to my imperfection yet, just like you, Clark."
"I can see that, Justine." Oh the way he said my name made me want to curl up beside him and purr. Yet, I still couldn't bring myself to even entertain the idea of making a bed buddy out of Clark. It would be too dangerous.
"So, you want to take some bags with you back to..." His lips touched mine before I even realized he was standing that close to me. It was a gentle, tentative, and explorative kiss that left me breathless. His hand, which was resting slightly on my shoulder, moved down my biceps, down my forearm, and then, just when I thought I couldn't take any more of his subtle touches, his large, tanned fingers intertwined with mine. It wasn't the kisses I'd read about and hoped for in my novels, the ones that bruise your lips, but a light kiss, an appetizer with the promise of so much more. When his lips left mine, I looked up to him.
"Your eyes are amazing. I love the way they get round and glassy when you are unsure of something. Their color reminds me of English tea brewed just right." He whispered against my mouth, and I felt like I was breathing in his words and ingesting them. I inhaled his spicy scent, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Stepping back, I looked up at him. His expression was unreadable.
"I think that we should go inside," I said stepping around him. I'd forgotten my hand was still in his and he held tight.
"Why do you always run away?" he alleged, his voice a whisper as if it was a secret question he hadn't meant to mutter out loud.
"Flight instinct. When I see something dangerous, I run," I said staring him in the eyes. His deep black eyebrows cinched together and his lips slumped into a frown. His lips looked perfect for kissing.
"I'm dangerous?" He actually sounded hurt that I would call him dangerous. Yeah right, this is another part of his game.
"Clark, if you don't know, then you just don't know, but yes I find you very dangerous. It has nothing to do with your military background either."
"I'm not trying to scare you, I just want to be..." His voice trailed off and he looked down at our entwined fingers. His large, tanned hand engulfed my smaller chocolate one. The eroticism of our two different skin tones hit me deep within, and I didn't like it. I wrestled my fingers from his grasp because the hand-holding was getting too intimate. I turned and walked into my living room. I picked up the rest of my cognac and took a long swallow. I couldn't believe I was even considering what I was considering but it sounded like a wonderful plan to my libido. As Clark walked toward me, I could tell the conversation wasn't over, but I was pretty sure I was about to have the last word.
"This habit of yours, this walking away, could make someone very pissed." His voice had a steel edge to it, but if my calculations were correct, he wouldn't be angry for long.
"Get used to it. I've got a proposition for you, Clark." He folded his arms and waited. "What do you say we scratch each other's back until the wedding, until you go back to England?" His eyebrow raised, and he didn't say one word. "You know, adult friends, bed buddies, consenting...do I really have to spell this out?" Still nothing. His silence had to be more annoying because he was usually talking, saying something witty, and not breaking his composure. "Oh forget it. I don't know why I asked," I said turning around and walked down the hallway to my bedroom.
I felt like an idiot. There is a reason why some people don't take risks, they don't want to look like a fool. Sitting on my bed, I began to breathe in and breathe out. I was never going to be able to face him ever again. I hoped he'd shown himself out and left me to my humiliation. That would have been the easy way out, but no, he had to come into my bedroom. Clark knelt in front of me and tilted my head up with his fingers on my chin.
"Again, you walked away. Tell me something, did you merely ask me that because you slightly drunk, or did you ask me that because you want to spend more time with me?"
What man asks you that? Most of the men I knew wouldn't give two damns or a fuck if I was drunk, interested, or even in a coma.
"Please, I can take more than a glass of wine and a few sips of cognac. I asked because you kissed me and it..." I didn't know what else to say but the truth, "it felt nice." Yeah I know, that was lame, but nice was the only way I could describe his lips on mine.
"There are a lot of things that feel nice, Justine. I just don't want you to feel like I seduced you."
I rolled my eyes and then looked at Clark. His eyes were violet now. Gone was the light shade of amethyst I was used to, and I found myself mesmerized by his face. I looked at the creases along his mouth, and could tell he laughed a lot. I looked at his eagle-like nose and noticed it had been broken. He was just as fine as he was dangerous, and I didn't know why I didn't notice his dimple before.
"Look, I figured you know me just as well as anyone else you could pick up in a bar. You know I'm sane, so what's the harm in a little bit of fun? I wouldn't let you seduce me period." His lips curled as if he were trying to keep himself from saying something wrong. Standing, he took my hands in mine and pulled me off the bed and into his muscled arms into a passionate embrace. He cupped his hands under my ass and lifted. My long legs had no choice but to wrap around his torso. Turning, he planted himself on my bed, his back on my many pillows. I was sitting astride his muscled thighs. When he looked up at me, I didn't know whether to be scared or turned on by the look in his eyes.
"So you won't let me seduce you, have I got that right?" he said while working his hands under my sweater and running his callused thumbs over my skin. How could he expect me to answer that when his fingers were causing my brain to derail?
"Uhhh, there is no seduction needed. I'm offering you the end goal with no strings attached." My body was beginning to hum just from his fingers, and I could only imagine what it would be like to have more than his fingers on my flesh.
"However, seduction is the fun part." He murmured before he lifted my sweater and began running feathery kisses over the top of my breasts. If I would have known I was going to be this brazen, I would have at least worn a nice lace bra instead of the simple white cotton one he was currently pulling down over my breasts. My head rolled back at the feeling of his soft tongue running gentle circles around my nipples. Moaning out loud made my head snap back and look down at him. . His black hair was shimmering in the soft glow of the lamps. I couldn't resist. I threaded my fingers in his inky hair and pulled him closer.
"Your skin is so chocolate and beautiful, Justine, I have to taste you. I have to taste you everywhere."
"I'm not stopping you," I said as I grinded my hips in his lap. His low growl vibrated against my skin, making me want more than just touching and kissing. He wrapped his hands around my waist, and the next thing I knew I was on my back, staring into his eyes. The look was hypnotic, the lust obvious in his dilated pupils. A need to touch him everywhere overwhelmed me and I couldn't stop myself from running my hands underneath his sweater. The rollercoaster of emotions I was riding was intensified by his light nips against my neck, my chin, my collarbone. His lush and soft hair fell over his forehead and formed a curtain as he kissed down my stomach, swirling his tongue around my navel and proceeding lower.
"My God! Your skin is so soft," he murmured into my stomach. My body was throbbing and aching for a much-needed release.
"There is too much between us. Strip," I said, sitting up and discarding my sweater over my head.
Even as he was taking off his sweater, Clark couldn't help but be Clark.
"You know, most women liked to be coaxed and prodded." If I wasn't already primed and mesmerized by the taut planes of his muscular chest, I would've swatted him.
"You'll see I'm not most women," I said as I grabbed for his belt buckle. No, I wasn't the type to lie still and let my lover has his way. In one motion I unbuttoned Clark's slacks and had him unzipped. I looked him dead in his eye and raised an eyebrow at him when I found there were no boxers or briefs to get through. All he did was shrug in response and smirked at me. No, I'm not going to think that he goes commando just for easy access. Don't think about him being a Casanova, just take what you need.
Determined not to let his Lothario status deter me from satisfaction, I grabbed his cock and gave him a firm squeeze. His cock was thick and rigid, yet his skin was smooth and soft like velvet stretched over a steel rod. It was warm in my hands, and I couldn't help but to stroke it up and down. A pearl-sized drop of his precum released from his deeply tanned flesh. Without hesitation, I dipped my head and flicked the tip of my tongue over the top of his bulbous head. His gasp was the only encouragement I needed as I swirled my tongue around the tip once and took his rigid shaft into my mouth.
His moan of pleasure made me greedy. I wanted to hear his raspy moan again. I began to move my head up and down, filling my mouth with as much of him as I could. He tasted like sweet cherries, and I was becoming lost in what I was doing until he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up his body until I was straddling him again.
I didn't realize I'd forgotten to remove my thigh highs until he plucked at the lace top band. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Don't even think about taking them off. It's a fetish of mine," he said as he curled his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me into another one of those dizzying kisses. As our tongues battled for dominance, I reached over to my nightstand to pull out a condom. Putting the condom on him proved difficult as he was thicker than most men I'd been with or many of the sex toys I used. My pussy clenched at the thought of his thick rod inside of me and that was the last straw. I raised myself on my knees and grabbed the base of his cock. As I was guiding him to my opening, I noticed he was watching intensely where our bodies were about to join. I teased him by running the head of his shaft between the lips of my shaved pussy. Seeing his bronzed skin against my chocolate flesh heightened the intensity of the moment. My pussy was already wet with want, but when I finally sunk down on his shaft, we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I swiveled my hips, and his guttural moan made my insides quiver.
Clark's settled his hands on my waist and he began to thrust upward to meet my downward stroke. I put my hands on his chest, my nails digging into his skin as my orgasm was looming. Just as I felt the pressure building up to my release, Clark wrapped his arms around my body, and he flipped us over so he was on top. Without breaking the rhythm, he positioned my legs over his shoulder and braced himself on his arms. His powerful lunges had me gasping for air, my breaking point near. As if he was some sort of gymnast, Clark began to swivel his hips so his pelvis would bump my swollen clitoris with every thrust.
That was my undoing. I'd never experienced an orgasm that made me see flashes of light, but that is exactly what happened, I was blinded. My whole body shivered, and Clark still wasn't finished. He kept at his deep strokes, driving my body to another release, until he shuddered and with a throaty growl, unleashed his orgasm. Clark's body collapsed on mine, and I enjoyed his weight on top of me. The damp strands of his hair tickled my cheek. After a few meager moments, he rolled off me, and I immediately missed the heat of his body. However, I didn't want to cuddle. Cuddling was a relationship thing, and that was the last thing I wanted, especially with Clark. I got up and sauntered into the adjoining bathroom.
After earth-shattering sex like that, I didn't want to ruin the daze I was in by flooding the room with lights. I lit a few candles and turned on the showerhead. Stepping into the hot water, I let the cares of the world slip away. I was no longer uptight about being a terrible friend to Topaz and knew I could get through this wedding without the jealousy monster rearing up. Hell, Clark was lying in my bed and I still wasn't sure I even liked him all that much. It's amazing what good sex will do for your mental mind state. Who am I kidding? That was great sex. As I lathered, the scent of lavender filling up the bathroom, I'd become so relaxed, I'd almost forgotten about Clark. I'd assumed he would've been passed out, but when I felt his hand caress my ass, I damn near climbed the wall I was so startled. Whirling around just in enough time to see Clark step into the shower, I took a step back. His large and imposing body nearly filled my tiny shower.
"What did I tell you about making some sort of noise? You just can't keep sneaking up on me."
"What did I tell you about walking out of a room? Looks like you are just going to have to get used to it."
"Yeah okay, um, I'll be finished in a moment if you want to wait; there isn't enough room for the both of us in here," I said, turning around to wash the soap from my body.
"Want to bet?" I didn't have time to ask what he meant before he spun me around and pressed me against the wall. The tile was cool, the look in his eyes wasn't. He gazed down at me and I could tell he wasn't finished, not by a long shot. His kiss was powerful and sent heat winding down my spine and down to my toes. His hands began to knead and massage my ass cheeks, and then I felt it. As his middle finger circled and toyed with the opening of my anus, I let out a grateful moan into his mouth. To me, some things I just couldn't ask for, let alone admit to wanting to try. Yet, with Clark, I found myself wanting this, with him. I'd played with plenty of sex toys but I'd always wanted to know what it would be like to have a man go there. Breaking the kiss I gasped for air and pushed my ass into his hands.
"Take it, Clark, please, I want you to."
He didn't need any encouragement after my words. Turning me around so my breast were pressed against the wall, Clark began to rain kisses on my shoulders, my spine, and my lower back. Then he did the most incredible thing I'd ever experienced. He plunged his tongue into my ass. The warmth of his tongue and the feeling was great. His tongue swirled and dipped and coaxed me into another shattering orgasm. As I let my body slump against the warm tile of the shower, Clark eased behind me, his hard cock nudging between my ass cheeks. He pressed forward gently, prying me open with subtle pokes and gentle grabs. My hormones were in a frenzy, and I was tired of being teased. I arched my back into him and made his cock slide all the way into my tight anus. His sigh was my sign that we both wanted this. Arching higher, I began swaying my hips back and forth, rocking his cock out of my ass and then pushing back, impaling myself with his length. His hands on my hips kept me steady as I rocked us both to completion.
We both dried off and sleepily made our way back to my bed. Clark had already rolled down the covers and the bed looked so inviting. I decided not to kick him out this one time, but tomorrow, I would get back to my plan of having a no strings, no emotions attached affair with Clark.