Caramel Eyes

"So I gave the phys-ed teachers from the nearest towns a call and we set up a few meets and inter-school tournaments. The best part is even if any of us move, the schools now have the infrastructure in place to make sure these things can happen every year."

Mark's face brightened as he told Denise about the sports programmes he helped create that he didn't even notice her lightly holding his hand while they strolled. After walking another 10 minutes from Mark's apartment, she pointed past a small field.

"Is that a river?" she asked.

"It's a little creek," he replied. "I used to go there all the time last summer to think--that is, before it got too cold. Come on." He gripped Denise's hand tighter and guided her past the marshy parts of the field down to a set of wooden steps that led to a rocky path on the banks of the creek.

Some of the large, flat rocks that lined the river were dry so Mark climbed up to sit on them and then helped Denise up. There wasn't another soul in sight. They sat with nature for a few moments and watched the tranquil rush of the water before Denise felt a chill sweep across her legs.

"Sorry," Mark said, noticing her reflexively try to cover one leg with the other. "It gets a lot colder up here than down south, even in early May." His chest pounded but he decided to just take a chance for once and put his arm around her.

Denise's heart leapt with joy and she scooched closer to Mark, curving her body toward him and placing her legs right up against his. When her cheek brushed against the warm collar of his jacket, she turned her face up to look at him--only to be met with his lips covering hers. She went from being chilly to feeling like her skin was on fire.

When Denise kissed him back, Mark felt bold enough to graze his tongue across her lips as he cupped her face in both his hands. He almost hardened at the little shiver and sigh that escaped her mouth, not to mention her hand on his thigh.

Denise was suddenly starving and she began to deepen her kisses, her other hand gripping the open zipper of Mark's jacket. He let go of her face and encircled her waist with both arms, while his tongue travelled along the roof of her mouth. This time, the moan that escaped her throat did make him harden.

"Wilson!" a voice shouted in the distance, shocking them both apart as they saw a little dog race past them on the path with his leash waving in the wind. The puppy went to a nearby tree and yelped loudly at a squirrel that had just raced up the trunk. Mark and Denise awkwardly laughed as Wilson's owner caught up with him, then Denise leaned up toward Mark's ear.

"Please take me home," she whispered, showing him the quiet desperation in her eyes while climbing down from the flat rocks. Mark hopped down, grabbed her hand, and they both broke into a fast walk toward his apartment building.

As soon as they got into the elevator, Denise rose up on her toes and gripped Mark's collar to pull his head toward hers, hungrily kissing him until she heard the doors prepare to open on the 4^th floor. As they got out, Mark gave a polite wave to his neighbours entering the elevator. They gave him an amused smile, knowing he didn't realize he was wearing half of Denise's lipstick on his face.

They were barely inside the apartment when Mark slammed the door shut and grabbed Denise by the waist, yanking her toward him and probing her mouth with his tongue. After he helped her shrug off her jean jacket and she pushed off his coat, he pulled her close again and rained kisses on her neck.

"Thank god you've stopped trying to be a gentleman about this," she giggled, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and fumbling with his belt buckle.

"I had every intention, I swear, Denise," he said, kicking off his shoes while trying not to loosen his grip across her back. He kissed her just under her ear and reveled in the little gasp that slipped out of her mouth.

"So did I when I was on the bus," she swallowed. "But that only lasted as long as--"

"That first hug?" Mark finished, reaching up under her skirt and hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her tights. "I know. Fuck." Denise put her hands on his and stopped wriggling out of her clothes for a moment, gazing into Mark's dark brown eyes.

"Hey. You don't have to exercise any self-control here, okay? I'm a free woman now. Truth be told, I've been lying to myself about not wanting this with you since the moment we first talked to each other. Don't hold back with me, Mark." She held the back of his head and ever-so-gently bit his bottom lip.

"Jesus Christ, Denise," Mark all but growled while dragging her by the wrist to his bedroom. He cheated in their competition to see who could undress the other first, yanking her bra straps down by her upper arms immediately after he tore off her shirt. In a flash, Denise was pushed onto her back on Mark's bed and his lips were locked around her right nipple.

She whimpered and scratched his shoulders as her panties got damper with every passing minute he sucked at her chest. He finally stood up, stripped off his remaining clothes, and shifted both of them under his comforter. Denise unhooked her bra and shimmied out of her skirt and tights. Dropping her panties onto the floor, she dove into Mark's waiting arms.

They explored each other's bodies with their hands while devouring each other's mouths, Denise making sure to rub her thigh against Mark's erection as she writhed against him. She could feel his lips curve into a smile.

"I want this to last more than 10 minutes, honey," he murmured, holding her leg away from his abdomen. "At least for me. For you, however..."

Suddenly, Mark turned Denise so he was spooning her from behind, his left forearm snaking between the mattress and her waist to wrap her in a steely grip. His right arm went around her from up top and delved their fingers into the warmth between her thighs.

"Mark!" Denise jumped with surprise but her lover still held her tight, thrilled when she groaned and opened her legs up for him. He loosened his left arm to let her lie on her back, instead moving that bicep under her head so he could look into those stunning caramel eyes while he teasingly stroked her opening.

Denise shifted her hips and squirmed, pleading with Mark with her eyes. He plunged his fingers inside her, then kissed her deeply to stifle her moans while he continued stroking her on the inside.

"Mark... Mark..." Denise gasped, her legs stretching straight out in the beginnings of spasms. Mark gave her a wicked smile and lowered his head to suck on her breast again, causing her to cry out. His thumb rubbed against her clitoris, dancing in perfect unison with the way his other fingers massaged her inner front wall.

Denise shut her eyes and squealed Mark's name as a climax tore through her core, to which he responded by sucking harder on her nipples and stroking faster with his hand. There was no coming down from this one, and Denise screamed again as she was carried high on a second wave that lifted her up and crashed her down.

When she was at last able to pry her eyes open, she saw Mark's chiseled jaw as he trailed light kisses down her forehead and cheek.

"Welcome back, gorgeous," he whispered.

"What in the hell did you just do to me?" she slurred vacantly, prompting a giggle from her lover. "You've had girlfriends before, right? Why did they let you go when they knew you could do that?" Mark chuckled harder and dropped his forehead onto Denise's shoulder.

"Maybe," he said, pushing himself up from the mattress, "I didn't do that with anyone before." He sat up on his haunches and positioned himself between Denise's thighs, when she saw he'd already put on a condom. How long was I out for? she wondered, her vision still hazy.

Mark shifted forward with his heels resting against his butt, sliding Denise's rear onto his muscular thighs while her upper back remained on the bed. As her legs dangled on either side of him, he paused and threw her one more questioning glance.

"Yes, please, Mark, yes," she breathed, her hair fanned out above her head and her nipples still stiff. "How could you think at this point I wouldn't want you inside me?"

"God, Denise," he muttered as his cock bounded upward. He dragged her body closer to him until they were able to connect with her lower back resting on his knees, then pushed forward until he was buried deep.

Denise moaned from the back of her throat, tossing her head upward and gripping the bedsheets in each fist. Mark stared at her glowing brown skin in the light of the setting Sun peeking through his window. As her legs brushed up and down his sides, he was convinced he'd never see a more breathtaking sight in his life.

He held on to her hips as he swiveled his own on every thrust, pushing harder and harder while carefully observing Denise's glassy eyes. When he thought she was close, he stroked her clit while driving into her and Denise immediately cried out again as her back arched.

Mark gripped his lover's rear tight and sped up, her whimpers spurring him on until he erupted inside her, trying with all his strength to hold himself up as his head buzzed. When he fell onto the bed beside her, Denise was already trying to crawl up against his chest. Mark wrapped both arms around her and panted against her hair, trying to clear the fog from his brain after the most intense sex of his life.

Denise didn't seem to be faring much better, her hands still shaking and her eyelids blinking rapidly when Mark slipped out of bed to clean up. She felt cold in the minute he wasn't there, and instantly buried her nose against his chest as soon as he returned.

They each held on like the other was a life raft, both huffing until their breaths slowed down and synchronized. After cuddling in a perfect silence for about 15 minutes, Mark thought he was going to doze off when he felt Denise's fingers playing with his nipples.

"That's not fair, sweetie," he drawled, his eyes half-closed. In response, Denise propped herself up and gently gnawed on his left nipple. Mark tried to grasp her arms but she playfully pushed him down, kissing his chest while covering his body with her own.

Minutes later, what he'd envisioned while driving through the woods earlier that evening was coming to life--Denise was covered in a light sheen of sweat, straddling him and bouncing up and down on his shaft, desperate whimpers emerging from her throat every time she ground her hips against him.

Another hour and two further rounds later, they collapsed on the mattress together in the inky darkness, thoroughly exhausted.

"I was wrong," Denise whispered.

"About what?" Mark asked, worried she was regretting what they'd just done.

"Viero has the best nightlife ever," she giggled. Mark rolled his eyes and kissed her deeply, brushing away tendrils of hair that had absconded from her disheveled ponytail. The glint of her caramel eyes was the last thing he remembered seeing before he fell into a solid, dreamless sleep.

***********

Mark hadn't realized until he woke up at dawn the next morning that he'd fallen asleep holding Denise. As she had been laying on his left, his right arm was numb and tingly from being looped around her for most of the night. It was still dark except for the tiniest rays of sunlight glinting over the horizon, and Mark debated staying in bed and watching Denise sleep instead of getting up to exercise.

His rumbling stomach held the final vote so he got his calisthenics out of the way in the living room, then quietly showered. Denise had barely shifted through an hour of him puttering around.

He was watching the news while having breakfast when he finally heard movement from the bedroom. By the time he'd made more toast, Denise was out of the shower and smelling like orange blossoms again.

"Hi," she bashfully smiled as she appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"I've never known you to be the shy type," Mark practically glided over to her, slipping his arms around her waist like he'd been doing just that for half his life. She put her head on his shoulder and his heartbeat magically slowed down again.

"I'm just afraid you'll think it was my plan all along to seduce you," she admitted, warmly patting his padded upper arms.

"What?!" Mark feigned shock. "All this time I thought I was seducing you!" He reveled in the feeling of Denise shaking in gentle chuckles against his chest. "You're not having regrets, are you?" he asked more seriously.

"Oh, no, no, no," she pulled her head back to look at his face. That wide-eyed thing she did every time she was surprised was Mark's undoing. "I didn't know what you'd think of me since it hasn't been that long since..." She cast her eyes downward.

"Oh," he understood. "Right. Him." He let go of Denise and moved to fix her a plate of breakfast. "What happened between you two anyway?"

"He..." Denise stammered, searching for the right words. "Ultimately, he couldn't commit. At least not on a timeline I was comfortable with."

"He wanted to get married in a couple of years and you wanted to sooner?" Mark guessed from the stove.

"He might consider getting married in about six years, and maybe not even to me," Denise replied. Mark burst out in laughter. "I hardly thought it was funny, Mark," Denise crossed her arms.

"No, it's not that," he tried to control his guffaws, "Show me a guy who thinks like that and I'll show you a guy who's going to tell every girlfriend he has that the last one was crazy and controlling." He put down a plate of eggs and toast at the table, still grinning. "Meanwhile never realizing the common thread in all those relationships was him."

"My mom said something similar," Denise said sitting down with a fork in her hand, relieved Mark wasn't judging her.

"Oh, I miss your mom," Mark replied, smiling at remembering Leela's one-liners.

"She... she misses you, too," Denise said wistfully, thinking again about how she wasted so much time with the wrong man. Caleb barely interacted with her mother, simply waving at her from the front door of the restaurant whenever he popped in to chat with Denise.

"Shoot," Mark said, peering into the fridge. "I thought I had another bag of milk in the back but I guess I don't." He looked toward the front door. "Eat your breakfast and I'll be right back."

"Mark, it's not a big deal," Denise said, surprised he'd want to run out immediately. "I can take my coffee black today, or even have tea without milk. You don't have to leave right now."

"You're my guest, and it's the least I can do for seducing you last night," he smirked. "It'll be two minutes."

Since the supermarket wasn't yet open, Mark drove to a convenience store nearby. He smiled and waved at the dour-looking clerk behind the counter, then went straight to the refrigerator and picked up a 4-liter bag of milk. The place was empty except for a police officer trifling through the magazine rack a few feet away.

Returning to the counter with a $5 bill, Mark didn't notice right away that the clerk wasn't ringing up the milk.

"What else do you have there, sir?" he asked. The kid couldn't be more than 20 years old, Mark thought.

"Uhhh, just the milk today, thanks," Mark replied, confused.

"No, I mean, what's in your pockets?"

"My... what?" Mark took out his wallet and a pack of facial tissue from his jacket pockets.

"What else is in there?" The clerk's voice rose with a note of hostility.

"They're empty. Can I just pay for my milk, please?" Mark wasn't sure what was going on, especially when he followed the clerk's eyes past his shoulder to where the cop was standing.

"And your pants pockets, sir?" The cop's voice came from behind him.

"Officer, I'm emptying my pockets right before your eyes," Mark slowly said, careful to not turn around while turning the pockets of his track pants inside out, holding his cell phone in his hand.

"Sir, if you're unwilling to cooperate, we can discuss this at the station," the cop flatly responded, as though Mark was resisting.

"The station?" Mark forgot himself and spun around in alarm, then felt his upper body being violently slammed over the counter until his face was pressed against the bag of milk. He knew he could easily take the cop but everything his dad had taught him since he was a boy about how to interact with police came rushing back to him.

Mark allowed himself to be handcuffed as he was read his rights, all the while staring sideways at a display of lighters and novelty pens that sat on the counter. Instead of leaving his squad car at the store, the cop put Mark in the back and drove the couple of minutes to the station.

He had his personal effects checked in at the front desk, and was then finger-printed and photographed, all of which he went through in abject silence that masked his horror. By the time he was put in a holding cell, he was resigned to whatever was happening until he recalled one more thing his father had told him so many years ago.

"Don't I get a phone call?" Mark called out at no one in particular. There were only two officers circulating in and out of the room that held the cell, and he was the only person in custody. "Hello?"

An older officer came back into the room, pulled the desk phone's extension wire as far as it would go, and parked it on a chair right outside the cell. It occurred to Mark that if he hadn't demanded his phone call, they wouldn't have offered him one. Although his cell--with his contact list--was being kept at the front desk, he'd looked at one number enough times over the last year that he luckily had it memorized.

"Denise." Mark felt nothing as he said her name from the police station's phone.

"Mark, where are you?!" her voice was frantic but Mark wasn't surprised as it should have taken 15 minutes instead of two hours to pick up milk. He was sure she'd blown up his cell with texts.

"I'm in jail."

Denise was taken aback, wondering for a moment if she'd misheard. But no, the blank, emotionless timbre of his voice made him sound defeated. She'd heard that tone from her firm's clients regularly, especially if they'd never been in trouble with the law before.

"Give me the address," she said. "I'll map it and come get you." After giving her directions to the police station, the officer in charge pointed to his watch and Mark had to hang up. He questioned on one hand why she didn't ask why he'd been arrested, but on the other hand was glad he hadn't had to explain it to her.

Mark tortured himself by watching the analogue clock above the staff sergeant's desk, convinced it was broken with how slowly it moved. Then when he was studying his shoes for the millionth time, he heard Denise's voice from the next room.

"Right, I'm representing Mr. Mark Vasquez, who was just brought in," he heard her saying. "Yes, Denise Ramdas, licensed paralegal." She rattled off her license number with the Law Society of Upper Canada while Mark sat there, dumbfounded he'd forgotten what she did for work.

"Mark," she hurried over to him once she entered the cells area. Her professional demeanour fell for a second and she had nothing but tenderness in her eyes as she reached her fingers between the steel bars that separated them. "Relax, baby. I've got this," she whispered.

Soon, Mark found himself seated in an interview room beside Denise, and across from another officer. It wasn't the one who'd arrested him, but was it a detective? Mark couldn't figure out how this system worked. Denise acted like this was just old hat to her.

"Can we go over the grounds for arrest?" she cut to the chase almost immediately after they sat down.

"Sure," the officer said. "But first, are you authorized to represent Mr. Vasquez seeing as how you're only a paralegal?"