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Muhsin cleared his throat the instant the door opened. His sweet, chocolate stare
surveyed the tousled vision before him.
“I’m sorry for looking such a mess, but I started cooking soon after you called,” Duchess
explained, waving him inside the house. “I haven’t had time to change.”
“No problem,” Muhsin replied softly. He pushed the door closed and followed her inside.
Duchess was on her way to the kitchen. “We’re having cheese omelets, toast with jam,
hash browns with a sour cream sauce and blueberry muffins.”
Muhsin tried to pay attention to her words, but couldn’t stop himself from focusing on her
full bottom and the healthy length of her hair brushing against it.
“Are you all right?” Duchess asked when she heard what sounded like a low grunt.
“Yeah, did you um, fix any coffee?” he asked in a hurried tone.
“Sit down, I’ll get it for you,” she offered.
Muhsin chose his spot at the table and watched Duchess move around the kitchen. “I can’
t believe you went to all this trouble cooking for me,” he said as she brought things to the
table.
Duchess’s soft laughter filled the kitchen. “It has been a long time since I fixed breakfast
for anyone other than myself. When I start cooking, I just can’t stop.” The innocent
admission launched a humorous discussion about the meals she used to prepare for her
father. Within minutes, the huge breakfast was set out on the table. Of course, Muhsin was
surprised and impressed by her culinary skills.
“I guess you expected me to be no good in the kitchen, huh?” Duchess asked, her fork
poised over her plate as she leered across the table.
Muhsin’s shoulders rose beneath his metallic-blue sweatshirt. “Well, the truth is, most
women who look the way you do usually don’t know a spoon from a spatula.”
Duchess laughed. “I should be offended, but I feel flattered. I hope you’re complimenting
me.”
“Most definitely.”
Desperate for conversation after their gazes held for several seconds, Duchess asked.
“So um, what about our engagement party?”
“Right,” Muhsin sighed, delving into his food like a starving man. Soon he began to
discuss his ideas for the gathering that would be held at his home. A jazz band and
caterers would also be hired for the event.
Duchess knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. “Muhsin…this isn’
t…it isn’t real and you’re going all out like this…”
“Baby, it has to look real, remember?”
“Still…” Duchess sighed, staring blankly into her plate.
“What’s up? You getting cold feet?” Muhsin asked, taking a few more bites of his food.
Duchess didn’t want to seem wary so she managed a smile to brush off the question.
“What do you want me to do?”
“All you need to do is show up looking as fine as you always do.”
“How long after the party until the…wedding?” she asked, pushing her plate aside.
Muhsin stroked the cleft in his chin and pondered the question. “I figure about a few
weeks,” he replied and noticed when she relaxed. “What?”
“Well, such a short time until the big day obviously means you’re not planning some big
throw-down,” she said.
Deciding not to confirm her remark, Muhsin concentrated on his breakfast. There was no
need to reveal his plans about the wedding until the time arrived.
Duchess told herself there was nothing wrong with a huge fancy party and began to relax
a bit. She left the table to transfer the muffins from the baking pan to a straw basket. “So
who’s coming to this thing?”
Muhsin wiped his mouth with the purple napkin near his plate and leaned back. “That’s
where I need your help. The guest list and the menu.”
“I don’t have a lot of people who’ll be able to travel to Chicago for a party,” she said,
setting the muffins on the table. “I know I’d like for Gretchen and Jaliel to be there; they’ll
help make it look more real.”
Muhsin smiled. “So what about the menu?”
Duchess shook her head. “I don’t think I need any part of the menu. I’ve been eating so
much lately, by the time I leave I’ll be twenty pounds heavier.”
Hours later, Muhsin and Duchess had discussed and confirmed plans about the party. The
morning passed so swiftly, Duchess barely noticed. Planning parties had never been a
favorite task of hers, but with Muhsin she found it more enjoyable. They had the best time
teasing each other on musical tastes and themes. Finally they decided on an elegant,
catered gathering at Muhsin’s estate. They made plans to visit a few local jazz clubs in the
hopes of snagging a live band for the party.
“Hungry?” he asked, tossing the pad he’d carried onto the living room coffee table.
Duchess looked at him from her spot on the sofa they shared. “Haven’t I told you that food
is fast becoming my enemy?” she retorted playfully. “I’ll be so fat, I won’t want to go back
to Philly.”
“That’s the idea,” Muhsin replied in the softest tone, though his gaze was steady and
intense.
Duchess felt the urge to leave the sofa, but never had the chance. Muhsin’s hand closed
over hers where it rested along the back of the sofa. He pulled her across the space
separating them and into his lap.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
His handsome face was buried against her neck. “Yes, you can,” he said, his big hands
cupping the sides of her breasts as he caressed the nipples through the thin fabric of her
T-shirt.
“This isn’t fair,” she moaned even as she arched into his hard frame.
“Shh…” he urged, sliding his mouth down the column of her neck. He held her slender
body straddled across his lap and settled her closer to the arousal straining against the
zipper of his jeans.
Duchess’s soft whimpers added fuel to the need raging inside Muhsin. He slipped the
straps of the T-shirt from her shoulders and farther down until her breasts were bared to
his cocoa eyes. He lost himself in the sweet smell of her skin and the luscious hair that
shielded her breasts with its length.
Muhsin’s tongue swirled around the curve of her breasts several times before favoring
the nipples with the lightest kisses. Then, he was pressing her back into the sofa, his
mouth filled with her flesh.
Duchess cupped the back of his, her fingers buried in his gorgeous auburn hair. She
moved against him in a sensuous fashion, moaning as his lips and tongue pleasured her
shamelessly. He pulled away, bringing his mouth to hers. Duchess’s soft moans caught in
her throat when they kissed. The friction of her nipples against the smooth fabric of his
sweatshirt only increased the sweet sensations running through her.
Muhsin’s hands curved around her hips to hold her in place. Again, he was drawn to her
rigid nipples. His tongue flicked against one before his teeth grazed it gently again and
again. Duchess wanted to feel his skin next to hers and pulled her fingers from his hair to
venture beneath his shirt. She shivered upon feeling the taut muscles of his back and
abdomen as they rippled and flexed against his every move.
Hushed sounds of need filled the room. Neither wanted to moment to end, but it was
interrupted by the phone’s ring. Duchess ignored it easily, not realizing how desperate
she was for Muhsin’s touch.
Muhsin couldn’t ignore the insistent ring for long and soon raised his head to send a
murderous glare in its direction.
“Damn, I need to get you an answering machine in here,” he growled before releasing her.
Duchess pushed herself up and tried to catch her breath before turning to answer the
phone.
surveyed the tousled vision before him.
“I’m sorry for looking such a mess, but I started cooking soon after you called,” Duchess
explained, waving him inside the house. “I haven’t had time to change.”
“No problem,” Muhsin replied softly. He pushed the door closed and followed her inside.
Duchess was on her way to the kitchen. “We’re having cheese omelets, toast with jam,
hash browns with a sour cream sauce and blueberry muffins.”
Muhsin tried to pay attention to her words, but couldn’t stop himself from focusing on her
full bottom and the healthy length of her hair brushing against it.
“Are you all right?” Duchess asked when she heard what sounded like a low grunt.
“Yeah, did you um, fix any coffee?” he asked in a hurried tone.
“Sit down, I’ll get it for you,” she offered.
Muhsin chose his spot at the table and watched Duchess move around the kitchen. “I can’
t believe you went to all this trouble cooking for me,” he said as she brought things to the
table.
Duchess’s soft laughter filled the kitchen. “It has been a long time since I fixed breakfast
for anyone other than myself. When I start cooking, I just can’t stop.” The innocent
admission launched a humorous discussion about the meals she used to prepare for her
father. Within minutes, the huge breakfast was set out on the table. Of course, Muhsin was
surprised and impressed by her culinary skills.
“I guess you expected me to be no good in the kitchen, huh?” Duchess asked, her fork
poised over her plate as she leered across the table.
Muhsin’s shoulders rose beneath his metallic-blue sweatshirt. “Well, the truth is, most
women who look the way you do usually don’t know a spoon from a spatula.”
Duchess laughed. “I should be offended, but I feel flattered. I hope you’re complimenting
me.”
“Most definitely.”
Desperate for conversation after their gazes held for several seconds, Duchess asked.
“So um, what about our engagement party?”
“Right,” Muhsin sighed, delving into his food like a starving man. Soon he began to
discuss his ideas for the gathering that would be held at his home. A jazz band and
caterers would also be hired for the event.
Duchess knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t help it. “Muhsin…this isn’
t…it isn’t real and you’re going all out like this…”
“Baby, it has to look real, remember?”
“Still…” Duchess sighed, staring blankly into her plate.
“What’s up? You getting cold feet?” Muhsin asked, taking a few more bites of his food.
Duchess didn’t want to seem wary so she managed a smile to brush off the question.
“What do you want me to do?”
“All you need to do is show up looking as fine as you always do.”
“How long after the party until the…wedding?” she asked, pushing her plate aside.
Muhsin stroked the cleft in his chin and pondered the question. “I figure about a few
weeks,” he replied and noticed when she relaxed. “What?”
“Well, such a short time until the big day obviously means you’re not planning some big
throw-down,” she said.
Deciding not to confirm her remark, Muhsin concentrated on his breakfast. There was no
need to reveal his plans about the wedding until the time arrived.
Duchess told herself there was nothing wrong with a huge fancy party and began to relax
a bit. She left the table to transfer the muffins from the baking pan to a straw basket. “So
who’s coming to this thing?”
Muhsin wiped his mouth with the purple napkin near his plate and leaned back. “That’s
where I need your help. The guest list and the menu.”
“I don’t have a lot of people who’ll be able to travel to Chicago for a party,” she said,
setting the muffins on the table. “I know I’d like for Gretchen and Jaliel to be there; they’ll
help make it look more real.”
Muhsin smiled. “So what about the menu?”
Duchess shook her head. “I don’t think I need any part of the menu. I’ve been eating so
much lately, by the time I leave I’ll be twenty pounds heavier.”
Hours later, Muhsin and Duchess had discussed and confirmed plans about the party. The
morning passed so swiftly, Duchess barely noticed. Planning parties had never been a
favorite task of hers, but with Muhsin she found it more enjoyable. They had the best time
teasing each other on musical tastes and themes. Finally they decided on an elegant,
catered gathering at Muhsin’s estate. They made plans to visit a few local jazz clubs in the
hopes of snagging a live band for the party.
“Hungry?” he asked, tossing the pad he’d carried onto the living room coffee table.
Duchess looked at him from her spot on the sofa they shared. “Haven’t I told you that food
is fast becoming my enemy?” she retorted playfully. “I’ll be so fat, I won’t want to go back
to Philly.”
“That’s the idea,” Muhsin replied in the softest tone, though his gaze was steady and
intense.
Duchess felt the urge to leave the sofa, but never had the chance. Muhsin’s hand closed
over hers where it rested along the back of the sofa. He pulled her across the space
separating them and into his lap.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
His handsome face was buried against her neck. “Yes, you can,” he said, his big hands
cupping the sides of her breasts as he caressed the nipples through the thin fabric of her
T-shirt.
“This isn’t fair,” she moaned even as she arched into his hard frame.
“Shh…” he urged, sliding his mouth down the column of her neck. He held her slender
body straddled across his lap and settled her closer to the arousal straining against the
zipper of his jeans.
Duchess’s soft whimpers added fuel to the need raging inside Muhsin. He slipped the
straps of the T-shirt from her shoulders and farther down until her breasts were bared to
his cocoa eyes. He lost himself in the sweet smell of her skin and the luscious hair that
shielded her breasts with its length.
Muhsin’s tongue swirled around the curve of her breasts several times before favoring
the nipples with the lightest kisses. Then, he was pressing her back into the sofa, his
mouth filled with her flesh.
Duchess cupped the back of his, her fingers buried in his gorgeous auburn hair. She
moved against him in a sensuous fashion, moaning as his lips and tongue pleasured her
shamelessly. He pulled away, bringing his mouth to hers. Duchess’s soft moans caught in
her throat when they kissed. The friction of her nipples against the smooth fabric of his
sweatshirt only increased the sweet sensations running through her.
Muhsin’s hands curved around her hips to hold her in place. Again, he was drawn to her
rigid nipples. His tongue flicked against one before his teeth grazed it gently again and
again. Duchess wanted to feel his skin next to hers and pulled her fingers from his hair to
venture beneath his shirt. She shivered upon feeling the taut muscles of his back and
abdomen as they rippled and flexed against his every move.
Hushed sounds of need filled the room. Neither wanted to moment to end, but it was
interrupted by the phone’s ring. Duchess ignored it easily, not realizing how desperate
she was for Muhsin’s touch.
Muhsin couldn’t ignore the insistent ring for long and soon raised his head to send a
murderous glare in its direction.
“Damn, I need to get you an answering machine in here,” he growled before releasing her.
Duchess pushed herself up and tried to catch her breath before turning to answer the
phone.