But Graham wasn’t the only one with a sweet tooth. Being taught that it was far more blessed to give than to receive, and believing with every ounce of my being that he was destined to be my husband, I decided to return the favor. Leaning him back, I began gently moving my fingers up and down his spread thighs, kissing his stomach, licking his pelvis. Then I slowly removed his thigh-hugging Calvin Klein boxers. My, my, my. Graham’s Benz wasn’t the only thing big and black. Like a bowl of Rice Crispies, the snap, crackle and popping sound of his toes gave me every indication that Graham was more than pleased with my affinity for most things chocolate, and all things mouth watering. I may have been done, but he was just getting started.

Slowly he climbed on top. I groaned slightly as he entered my underwater tomb. To conquer was no easy task. I, too, was a warrior and understood that no real warrior enjoys the chase without the challenge. I wrestled and tossed, running my jamoca nut hands through his silky black hair, then across his big black chiseled body, making him fully aware that I was no easy win.

We tussled and tossed. Tossed and tussled. Moaning, panting, hugging, rubbing. As the boat rocked, our ships docked and we both screamed with fulfillment. My non-stop flight had suddenly made multiple connections. I was sure that I had finally found my forever. Then, for what seemed like an eternity, we lay in each other’s arms, lifeless.

Suddenly Graham looked at his watch. “It’s getting pretty late. We’d better be going.” We showered, dressed, and were once again riding down the Dan Ryan. Only this time, Wynton had turned into Luther.

I fidgeted in my seat like a child on Christmas Eve, content in the fact that we were headed to his house where he would propose, making formal his intentions. But then the car slowed and made a turn. I hadn’t anticipated the possibility of any delay. What’s this? A detour?

Graham seemed to be making a momentary pit stop at the downtown Ritz Carlton. Being a successful businessman, his real estate prospects usually stayed at the finest hotels. In Graham’s business, perception was everything and since class was his standard, he chose only the best for his clients.

Leaning over close to my face, Graham whispered softly, “Montana…Montana…I had a wonderful evening. I’m booked on a flight that leaves at six a.m. and I’ve still got tons of paperwork to review, so I figured staying here would be best.”

Uh oh, seems there’s been a slight shift in cabin pressure. Though momentarily thrown, and looking forward to the tour of his home, I was fine with our stay at a hotel instead. So, naturally I asked the obvious. “Oh, so we’re staying here tonight?”