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“You’ve done some shitty things,” I said as I rose to my feet, “but you can’t do this. You can’t take my store from me.”

“I’ve given you an option. The choice is yours.”

“Go to Paris with you, stay in a marriage for another year and a half, just so you can hand me another
forged agreement?” I shook my head in disbelief. “God, I should have figured you out a long time ago. I should have known.”

I hurried out of the great room, despair making my head throb.

I didn’t care about Robert’s fortune. I could easily try to go after my rightful share of it, but that wasn’t what mattered to me. Not even as a way to spite him.

And yet that’s what he was doing—trying to take everything from me just to spite
me.
After he’d been the one to lie to me, deceive me. Crush my hopes and dreams.

What kind of man had I married?

I got a clearer idea of just how spiteful Robert was the next day.

I was driving to Dion’s place after work when I saw the flashing lights of a cruiser behind me. I wasn’t speeding. Hadn’t run a stop sign.

But there were no other cars on the quiet street, so I knew the cop was intending to stop me.

I slowed down and pulled over to the curb, then reached into the glove box and withdrew my insurance information. I was digging in my purse for my driver’s license when the officer reached the car.

He motioned for me to roll the window down. I did, saying, “Sorry. I was getting my information together.”

“License and registration, please.”

I handed both to him. “What’s the problem, Officer?”

He peered into my car as though he thought I had a kidnapped baby inside, then took a step backward. “Step out of the vehicle, ma’am.”

“What did I do?”

“Step out of the vehicle,” he repeated, sternly this time.

I wasn’t stupid. I got out of the car.

“Will you tell me now what the problem is?”

“This vehicle’s been reported as stolen.”

“What? Th-that’s impossible.”

“I assure you it’s very possible.”

“This is my car. It has been for three years.”

The officer examined my driver’s license and the registration form. “The vehicle is registered to Robert Evan Kolstad.”

“My husband. You see my name. Kolstad. The same as his.”

“I guess there must be some misunderstanding,” the officer conceded.

“Obviously.” I chuckled to relieve the tension.

He gave me back my information. “Your husband called the department to report the car as stolen.”

“I…I’ll phone him,” I stated. What else could I say?

“Sorry for the intrusion.” The officer turned and started back to his car.

I got back into my SUV and immediately dialed Robert’s cell. He answered after the first ring.

I spoke before he could. “You reported my car stolen?”

“Elsie?”

“You know damn well it’s me. Why on earth would you report my car as stolen?”

“The lease is up at the end of the week. It needs to be returned.”

“So you report it as
stolen?
”

“The officer I spoke to was mistaken. I only called requesting they contact you, since you don’t like returning my calls.”

“I saw you
yesterday.
You could have reminded me then.”

“Now you know.”

I wanted to scream. To tell Robert that he was the world’s biggest asshole. Instead I said, “I’ll drop it off at the dealership.”

“If you meet me, perhaps we can arrange for a new vehicle.”

“I’ll get my own car, thank you.”
One I like,
I thought, and clicked the button to end the call.

I immediately punched in Dion’s number, but hesitated before completing the call. I didn’t want to phone and bitch about my husband. So I called Spike instead. Someone I knew I could bitch to without remorse.

“Hey, doll-face,” he greeted me. “You know I’m about to meet Marcus, so I hope this is good.”

Out of the blue, Marcus had phoned Spike over the weekend, apologizing for how he’d treated him, claiming that he missed him and wanted another chance.

For all Spike’s talk about being over Marcus, after five years it was clear he still carried a torch for him. Personally, I didn’t think, after how Marcus had kicked
Spike out and left him penniless, that he deserved the time of day. But whatever happened was Spike’s decision, not mine.

I had enough to deal with.

“Right,” I said. “I’m sorry. Look, I won’t keep you then.”

“No, no. Tell me what’s up.”

“It’s Robert. I just got pulled over by a cop. He reported the car stolen.
Stolen.
”

“Oh, fuck.”

“He’s going to do anything—anything!—to make me pay for leaving him.”

“Oh, doll, I’m sorry you’re dealing with this. But I’m not surprised.” He paused. “Kind of makes me wonder why I’m going to meet Marcus.”

“Because you’re hoping that after five years, he’s contacted you because he really does love you.” But for a person to do what Marcus had done to him, then expect a second chance… It was exactly the kind of thing I wouldn’t put past my own husband. He actually expected to be able to force me back into submission.

“We’ll see how it goes,” Spike said. “I need to do this—even if it’s to close the book on us, once and for all.”

“You go meet Marcus. Hopefully, it all goes well.”

“Maybe Robert just needs time. Time to accept what’s happening and let you go.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” A beat passed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I ended the call and started the car, the reality of my situation playing out in my mind. No doubt Robert
wanted to see me, to give him the car, or perhaps meet him at the Mercedes dealership. That wasn’t an option for me. The less I saw of him right now, the better.

My cell phone trilled. I feared seeing Robert’s name as I glanced at the display, but instead the name Treasure flashed on the screen.

Treasure was an old friend whom I’d moved to North Carolina with, straight out of high school. She had since married and moved about an hour north, to Winston-Salem. We weren’t in touch often these days, but I still considered her a friend.

“Hey, Treasure,” I said when I put the phone to my ear. “What’s up, girl?”

“Oh, I’m just touching base. It’s Shane’s birthday in a couple weeks, and I was hoping you and Robert could come up for a party. Not this Saturday, but the next. Nothing fancy—just some friends over for a barbecue.”

I laughed uneasily. “I can come, but I won’t be with Robert.”

“Yeah,” Treasure said softly. “I heard.”

“What? How could you have heard anything?”

“I called the house first. I spoke to Robert.”

“Ah.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story, and I can tell you all about it on the weekend. But the bottom line is it’s over.”

“Robert said you moved out. Who are you staying with?”

“A friend.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Treasure began
cautiously, “but don’t you think this is premature? Before you leave your marriage, you should do everything in your power to save it. Go to counseling. Talk to your pastor. When Shane and I had problems, our pastor really helped.”

“Treasure, please. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“I understand. I’m just saying a marriage is worth fighting for.”

“I will explain everything when I see you. What time?”

“Around two.”

“I’ll be there.”

I ended the call and went straight to Dion’s. During the drive, I came up with a plan. I had first considered dropping the SUV off at the dealership, but instead I would return it to Robert’s house. I still had a closetful of clothes to clear out, as well as some other personal items.

On Wednesdays, Robert always had lunch at the club with a group of men with whom he’d formed a board to help support emerging entrepreneurs. Typically, they played golf before lunch and after, and Robert was often gone all day.

I knew that he would be out of the house for sure between twelve and two, discussing whatever business the board had to deal with. And that’s when I would return to Robert’s house, collect my belongings and leave the car in his driveway.

I could ask Sharon to help me, but I didn’t want her
going up and down the stairs, lifting things. I could ask Spike, but someone had to man the store.

But Dion would be home. He would take me.

Olga’s face lit up as soon as she saw me. Then it fell in surprise when she noticed I wasn’t alone. “Hello, Olga.”

“Mrs. Kolstad.” Her eyes flitted from me to Dion. “What’s going on?”

“These are the keys to my car,” I told her, handing her them. “Please give them to Robert.”

“Oh, Mrs. Kolstad.” Pain streaked across her face. “You’re not coming home?”

“No, Olga.” I squeezed her hand. “I’m not. I just came to get some of my things.”

Tears filled Olga’s eyes—a sight that surprised me. I wasn’t used to her showing this kind of emotion.

I pulled her into an embrace. “I’m sorry. Maybe we can get together sometimes, have dinner or something.”

But as I said the words, I doubted they would come to pass. Olga would continue to work for Robert, and I would go on with my life. Our paths might never cross again.

We filled Dion’s car with most of my clothes and toiletries, my computer, most of my DVD collection, and a couple crates of my books. I couldn’t fit everything, but took what was most important to me for the time being.

That included the framed photo of my father when he was a teenager. A wave of regret washed over me
when I remembered how Robert had robbed me of the chance to be there for him in the end.

I left the wedding photos. I didn’t care about those. But there were other framed photos of me and friends. Memories that meant the world to me.

Olga looked shell-shocked as I gave her one last hug. I knew she wanted to ask about Dion, but didn’t, knowing it was a question that would be inappropriate.

“So that’s your house,” Dion said as he began to drive away. “It’s quite amazing.”

“But it wasn’t a home,” I pointed out. My heart was racing. I only now realized that though I hadn’t expected Robert to return home, part of me had been terrified that he would walk through the door.

“My friend Sharon doesn’t live too far from here. I’ve already called her. We can drop my stuff off there.”

“Or—” Dion faced me “—we can take it to my place.”

I’d been staying over at Dion’s a lot since our first date, but his suggestion shocked me nonetheless. “What are you saying?”

“My place is big enough for both of us. And…” He took my hand in his. “I like having you around.”

“You want me to move in with you?”

“We’ve hardly been apart since we started seeing each other.” When I didn’t respond, Dion continued, “You think it’s too soon?”

I didn’t know what to think. I only knew that I loved being with him.

That perhaps what I was feeling—

“I love you, Elsie,” Dion said softly.

My mouth fell open in surprise as I met his gaze.

“It’s true,” he said. “I didn’t want the first time I told you that to be while we were making love, because you might not believe it. And I know it probably seems impossible even now. It’s too early. That’s what everyone would say. And I can’t explain it—”

“You don’t have to,” I said, my pulse accelerating. “I know exactly what you’re saying.”

My eyes locked on his, and now he was the one to look surprised. “I love you, too.” I leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. He turned his face and met my lips. The kiss lingered a moment too long for someone who was driving, so he soon turned back to the road.

“I think…maybe I loved you right from the start,” Dion said to me as he reached to link his fingers with mine. “That very first day. That’s why I had to end things with Tisha. That’s why I had to go back and see you.” He brought my hand to his lip and kissed it. “That’s why I want you to move in with me.”

Happiness spread through my body like an injection of warm liquid. “I honestly feel the exact same way, Dion. The connection right from the start. Everything.”

“So—are we going to Sharon’s place or mine?” he asked me.

“Yours,” I told him. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Good,” Dion said. “Because I have a surprise.”

I was nervous and giddy the entire drive to Dion’s place, wondering what his surprise might be. When we reached his house, we released hands to get out of the car, but as I joined him on the driveway, he took my hand again.

Inside, he led me to the dining room, where the table was already set for two, complete with candles. The delectable aroma of seasoned chicken filled the air.

“I know I probably scared you about my culinary abilities when I mentioned Cheerios,” Dion began as he lit the first candle. “But I’m actually quite good in the kitchen.”

“You cooked!”

“A late lunch for us. Southern fried chicken. I got most of it done this morning. All I have to do is prepare the collard greens and rice.”

“Sounds lovely. I’m starving.”

“I’ve even got cherry cheesecake in the fridge.”

“You made cheesecake?”

“My mother taught me how. It’s the best cheesecake you’ll ever taste.”

“I can’t wait.”

Dion didn’t want my help in the kitchen, so I made use of my time by hanging some of my clothes in the spare room’s closet and putting others in a dresser drawer. Things were moving fast between us, but it felt right. I was embracing the next phase in my life and not holding back.

We ate around three-thirty, and it was scrumptious. The chicken was so delicious that I had to have a second piece. “You’re in trouble,” I said as I licked my fingers.

“Why’s that?”

“Because now that I know you can cook like this, I’ll never move out.”

“In that case, I’ll do all the cooking.” Dion eased up from his seat next to me, leaned across the space between us and kissed me. A deep, smoldering kiss that put me in the mood.

“I hope you saved room for some dessert,” he said as we pulled apart.

“I don’t know I if I can eat another bite.”

“You have to try the pineapple.”

“Pineapple? I thought you said you made cheesecake.”

Dion didn’t answer, just took my hand and led me
to the kitchen. He lifted a bottle from the counter and showed it to me.

As I read the label, I smiled. “Chocolate fondue sauce from The Melting Pot.”

“I picked it up today.” With his free hand, he cupped my breast. “I thought we might have some fun. Pineapple slices. Chocolate sauce.” He kissed me briefly. “Each other.”

“
Ohh.
I see. Gosh, suddenly I’m famished for something sweet.”

Dion’s lips curled in a smile before they landed on mine, kissing me deeply and hotly. My body came alive, sending heat and wetness to my pussy.

My lips molded to his as he pulled me to the floor. He broke the kiss and tugged my cotton shirt over my head. Then his lips met mine again, his tongue delving into my mouth, twisting with my own.

I slipped my hands beneath his shirt feeling his scar with a fingertip before running my palms over his chest. I squeezed the strong pecs, the act of touching him turning me on even more. Dion pulled my bra straps down from my shoulders and dragged the garment lower, freeing my breasts.

“Stay right there,” he whispered.

As I watched him go to the fridge, I unfastened my bra and tossed it aside. Dion produced a plastic tray of sliced pineapple, which he put on the floor beside us. He gave me another kiss before lifting the Saran Wrap.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

I did. A moment later, I felt something cold and wet
passing over my lips. I opened my mouth. Flicked my tongue out. Tasted the sweetness of pineapple.

Dion played the morsel over my tongue and my lips before dropping it into my mouth.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered against my ear.

I waited for him to run another piece of pineapple across my lips, then I flinched when I felt cool wetness brush my nipple.

He circled my areola with the pineapple, causing the skin to tighten and my nipple to harden. Then I felt it on the other breast, teasing the hard bud of my nipple.

“Mmm,” I moaned.

“You like that?” Dion asked. “Mmm-hmm.”

He kissed me, sucking gently on the tip of my tongue. Then his mouth was gone and I felt his finger on my lips, followed by the piece of luscious fruit.

Dion’s hands traveled down my neck to my breasts. As he touched me, he groaned with delight. My eyes remained closed, so when his tongue circled one of my nipples, I didn’t expect it. My body jolted with pleasure.

As he suckled me, he urged me backward, and soon I was lying flat on the cool tile floor.

“Keep your eyes closed. I want you to feel.”

My body was alive with anticipation. Dion traced the edge of my jeans with his fingertips before undoing the button, and I sucked in a quick breath. The light touch of his fingers on my skin caused heat to flood through me. And when I was naked on the floor, knowing that
his eyes were feasting on me, I was so ripe with excitement that I knew a few strokes of his tongue on my clit would make me come.

But Dion had other ideas. I gasped, unprepared, when I felt something warm and gooey hit my stomach—the chocolate sauce.

Dion’s finger rubbed it around my belly. “How does that feel?”

“Mmm. Good. Really good.”

He licked the chocolate off my skin, nibbling at times, suckling at others. I flattened my palms against the floor and arched my spine.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Dion rasped.

A dollop of chocolate sauce landed on my nipple, and I mewled softly. And then I felt his lips brush across the taut peak before he opened his mouth and took my nipple deep within his mouth. My clit flinched. I was nearly ready to explode.

Dion tweaked one nipple into a solid peak, all the while teasing my other nipple with his mouth, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. He sucked, then licked, then sucked again, driving me mad with lust.

My breathing was ragged when he pulled away from me, soft moans escaping my throat. I waited, eyes closed.

The sensation of warm chocolate hitting my clitoris made it pulse like my rapid heartbeat. This was so fucking erotic…

Dion massaged the folds of my sex, spreading the chocolate around. “You’re driving me crazy,” I rasped. “I’ve never felt so—”

My words died in my throat when his mouth covered my pussy. He sucked me hungrily.

“You’re so sweet, baby,” he murmured. He flicked his tongue over my clit. “So damn sweet.”

He suckled me slowly, sweetly, the sound and feel of his tongue and mouth bringing me closer to the edge. And then I came, my orgasm erupting from my clit with enough force to make my back arch and my hands ball into tight fists.

I heard the rustling of Dion’s clothes as I whimpered. “I need you inside me,” I said between ragged breaths. I reached for his upper body and urged him to settle on top of me. “I love you, baby.” I opened my eyes now, saw his face over mine. “I love you, Dion. I do. Please—make love to me.”

Dion made a soft sound, a deep and meaningful expression passing over his face. An expression that spoke volumes about what we meant to one another. Sex between us was so amazing not just because of our undeniable chemistry, but because of what we felt for each other.

I’d heard people talk about love at first sight, but I hadn’t known it was possible. But now, after meeting and falling for Dion, I believed it.

I wrapped one leg around him, letting him know I didn’t want him to go anywhere but my soft, wet pussy. “It’s okay, baby.”

“Are you sure?”

I pressed my lips to his ear and pleaded, “Yes. Make love to me.
Right now.
”

Dion needed no further encouragement. Without a condom on, he entered me. And it was glorious.

Though the floor was hard, I was too consumed with passion to be concerned with any discomfort. We made love with tenderness, each deep, pleasurable thrust so much more than the physical act of fucking. My second climax was even more forceful than the first, making my body convulse uncontrollably for several wonderful moments. Dion succumbed to his own orgasm while I was still quivering, my body weak with dizzying sensations. My soul brimming with love.

Slowly, I opened my eyes and smiled up at him. His cock was still inside of me, and I tightened my legs around him.

“I love you, Dion,” I whispered.

His grin was like a ray of sunshine. “Ah, baby. I love you, too.”

And then he kissed me. A soft and sweet and significant kiss. And we stayed like that for a long while, with his penis still inside me.

We’d made love without protection, and I knew I might get pregnant.

Dion had to know it, too.

But the thought didn’t frighten me. It warmed my heart.