While he whistled his way to the kitchen, I thought about Daniel’s demons. Was he really at peace with everything? I was at a loss for what more I could do. I’d simply have to be patient and understanding. It went without saying that he was worth it. This sweet man had made me origami and was bringing me breakfast in bed! It was a no-brainer!
Again I was amazed that this was my life. I was here in this beautiful cottage, Daniel and I had made love in front of the fire, and I hadn’t dreamed those incredible moments of intimacy in the night. I pinched my arm. Yep. I was awake.
This was my life.
He returned a few minutes later, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of coffee, glasses of orange juice, and cinnamon buns with sliced honeydew melon on the side. Oh yeah.
“My lady,” he said, placing the tray in the middle of the bed.
“Wow, thank you. What a treat.”
I propped the pillow behind my head, and we spent the next half hour eating, drinking our coffee, chatting about nonsense, and dissecting and re-assembling the origami rose. Once breakfast was out of the way, I stretched lazily against Daniel’s chest. I closed my eyes, basking in the feel of the sun warming my face as it streamed in the window and enjoying the heat of Daniel’s body.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I whispered.
“I know it wasn’t fancy—”
“I don’t need fancy,” I assured him. “You should know that by now.”
“I do know, and I’m learning to appreciate that.”
“I love you, Daniel.”
“I love you too,” he said, giving me a kiss that quickly changed from playful to passionate. My heart raced as his hands slid down my back to pull me gently against his hips. “I love you a lot,” he murmured against my lips. “You can’t even imagine how much.”
“I don’t need to imagine. I think I can feel it for myself.”
“I should hope so,” he said.
As his tongue darted against mine, I imagined the soft wetness of it between my legs, remembering how he’d worshipped me with his mouth the night before. I wanted him again, and I wanted him now. It was time to cross another fantasy off his list.
“Daniel, are you feeling adventurous?”
“Adventurous?” His mouth turned up at the corner. “What are you thinking?”
I held up my hand. “In front of the fire,” I said, counting on my thumb. “In bed,” I added, counting off my index finger. I popped a third finger up, raising my eyebrow at the same time. “Shower?”
He wiggled out from under me, climbing off the bed and beckoning me to join him. I crawled to the edge of the mattress, and he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I giggled as he carried me all the way to the shower. We then proceeded to empty the hot water tank so that Daniel could prove once and for all that he’d kicked those demons’ asses.
He also proved to have very strong legs.
Chapter 30
A Compelling Occasion
Under a compelling occasion, let women die…
(Antony and Cleopatra, Act I, Scene 2)
SPENDING MORE THAN A FEW STOLEN MOMENTS with Daniel was a novelty, one which would take some getting used to. It seemed unreal that we had time to go for another leisurely stroll, to curl up on the couch and watch Casablanca, and to laze around in the great room, swapping sections of the newspaper. It was pure luxury to sit next to him, holding hands and knowing we still had hours and hours together to do more of the same.
We had a light lunch and planned the rest of the day, aiming to eat dinner at six thirty before we had to go back to Toronto. My mind wandered as we ate in comfortable silence, the music from the iPod dock wafting into the kitchen from the great room.
“You know what?” I mused. “Orgasms are weird.”
Daniel spluttered, and I patted him on the back as he coughed and rubbed his eyes.
“Where the fuck did that come from?” He laughed.
“I was watching you pick the tomatoes out of your sandwich, and it made me think of Patty, which made me think of lycopene and oil changes, and then I thought about orgasms.”
“That is…strangely logical,” he said, chuckling and taking another bite of his sandwich.
“Patty wouldn’t be pleased to see you doing that,” I observed, pointing to the rejected tomatoes. “Aren’t you concerned about your prostate’s health?”
“Not any more I’m not,” he said, chewing and smiling at me devilishly. “I’ve had my oil changed three times in the last sixteen hours. Frankly, I think Patty would be thrilled.”
“You’re probably right. You gonna call and tell her?”
He chuckled again. “I don’t think so.” He raised an eyebrow. “I think you should tell her. After all, you’re the one who’s so gainfully employed. You should call her tomorrow and give her all the details. I insist.”
I kicked his foot under the table. “I promise not to tell her you’re not eating your tomatoes if you promise not to make me tell her I’m changing your oil,” I said, balling up the napkin on my plate.
“Deal.”
Daniel cleared our plates and filled the sink with soapy water. Our morning cups and plates were still sitting unwashed on the counter. Obviously he couldn’t bear to leave two meals’ worth of dishes dirty. I joined him at the counter.
“How is Patty, anyway?”
“She’s well. I spoke to her during the week and told her I was bringing you up here. She was happy to hear that.”
I bumped him over with my hip, handing him the dish towel and taking over the washing. “Is she still hanging out with Gerald?”
Daniel leaned against the counter and smiled. “Yep. Still keeping him a secret, though.”
“Why do you suppose she won’t tell your parents?”
He shrugged as he dried our coffee mugs. “I’m not sure if it’s because she thinks they won’t approve, or if she’s afraid of upsetting my mom, you know, as if she’s somehow disrespecting my grandfather.” He stowed the mugs in the cupboard. I watched as he spun every cup on the shelf so that the handles were all facing the same direction. Yep. Definite OCD tendencies.
I pulled the plug and rinsed out the sink, wiping the taps down with the cloth. Daniel handed me the dish towel, and I dried my hands.
“Your family just loves keeping secrets. I bet Patty would feel a lot better if she could unburden herself and tell your mom.”
“You’re probably right. Knowing Patty, she’s probably waiting for the perfect time to spill the beans,” he said, taking me in his arms and sliding his hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “But enough about my grandmother’s love life. Can we back up for a second?”
“To what?” I asked, putting my hands around his neck.
“To your out of the blue comment a few minutes ago. Why do you think orgasms are weird? I think they’re spectacular. And from my vantage point, it certainly doesn’t seem like yours are weird. They look pretty damn amazing.”
I laughed. “They are, trust me. I don’t know. It’s like, all that build up to this epic few seconds of such incredible physical pleasure.”
“Maybe it’s a good thing that an orgasm is only a few seconds long. What if the Elizabethans were right and orgasms really do shorten life?”
“La petite mort? You believe that?”
“I guess not. If it were true, most men wouldn’t live past forty-five!”
We both laughed, and Daniel wrinkled his nose. “We talk about some of the oddest things.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s kinda cool.”
“It is. You’re right.”
He smiled, and I ran my fingers lightly under one of his eyes. “You look tired, sailor.”
“I don’t know why I’m so exhausted.”
“You’re burned out. It’s been a long few months. Emotionally draining, too. Did you want to head back earlier? It’s a long drive, and you were up early this morning.”
“Nope. We can’t leave until after dinner.�
�� He looked at me with a mysterious glint in his eyes. “Besides, there’s a lasagna in the fridge that Penny made especially for us. It would be a shame not to enjoy it before we go.”
“This is true.”
I scrupulously avoided bringing up the topic which had been driving me crazy all day. He hadn’t mentioned the surprises since this morning, and we only had the afternoon and a small part of the evening left. What was he planning?
I brushed the hair off his forehead. “Well, if you’re determined to stay, how would you feel about taking a nap?”
“Seriously?”
“Why not? We can do whatever we want, right?”
“I didn’t think you’d be into napping.”
“Are you kidding? Sunday afternoon naps are the best.”
“Especially naked ones,” he said, smiling suggestively.
“You’ve got that right.” I took a few steps backward, popping the button on my jeans as he followed me.
By the time we were halfway down the hall, we’d both discarded our jeans and T-shirts, and when Daniel carried me into his room and lowered me to his bed, we were both naked.
I pulled back the comforter and slid eagerly between the sheets.
He nudged my legs apart with his knee. “You know, I’m not sure if we should do this.” His mouth traveled from my neck to my collarbone and between my breasts before flicking deliberately at my nipple. “Aren’t you worried about having another orgasm? There’s more precious moments I’ll be taking off your life…”
“No, not worried.” I parted my legs to welcome Daniel’s lovely, long fingers.
“Well, in that case…”
He threw the covers back so his tongue could join his fingers as he worked his magic, bringing me to a quick, shuddering climax.
And then another. And another.
If this was shortening my life, then God help me, so be it. What a glorious way to go.
Chapter 31
Fantasy
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you on’t?
(Hamlet, Act I, Scene 1)
I WOKE AND GLANCED AT THE CLOCK RADIO—three thirty. I’d slept for almost an hour and a half. Sheer decadence! I slowly swung my feet to the floor and stretched. Daniel was still sleeping, lying on his stomach with his arms scooped under his pillow. I took in his strong shoulders and the dimples on his lower back, right where the sheet rested. He snored gently.
The man was incredible—adorable and hot as fuck all at once.
And he was mine. Mine!
And at this very moment, I was doing a very quiet—but very silly—happy dance in the middle of his room.
Buck naked.
I ceased my jig and looked for something to throw on without making too much noise. Daniel’s black T-shirt was draped on the back of his desk chair. I pulled it over my head and checked out my reflection in the mirror. The hem came to rest just above my ass. I briefly considered panties but opted to stay commando. I was a little sore, and it felt good to let the girly bits breathe. And there were no neighbors for a quarter of a mile. No one would see me.
I crept to the door, but then felt bad about deserting him. After all, he’d given me three epic orgasms, turning every part of my body into rubber. After watching me stretch and yawn, completely spent, he’d been totally unselfish, encouraging me to curl up against his chest and sleep. He’d wake up and be looking for payback, and I wouldn’t be there. That would be disappointing.
I decided to leave him a note. I quietly pulled open the top drawer of his desk and spied some paper beneath a couple of books. I slipped the paper out and wrote quickly.
Hey, sleepy head. I had to get up. I couldn’t lie there any more-I’m feeling a wee bit achy-haven’t had a workout like that in a while. ☺ I’m going to explore. Come find me when you’re up. I think I owe you one...or three.
P.S. You’re snoring.
P.P.S. I also think you’re drooling. Very hot!
I folded the note into a paper hat, snorting quietly at my own ridiculousness, and then I left it on my pillow and quietly left the room. I picked up our abandoned clothes as I went, leaving them in a folded pile on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. Then I went downstairs to the games room.
I stood for a long while at the wall of windows with my palms against the glass, staring out at the lake. I could almost hear the echoes of laughter—Daniel, Brad, and Jeremy playing at the water’s edge, jumping from the dock into the cold lake, canoeing, maybe even waterskiing. There was a large boathouse off to the side of the property. Surely there would be all sorts of toys inside, given the family’s fondness for fun and games.
I turned to survey the room. Speaking of fun and games, if I was going to be spending more time with his family, I’d better get a firmer grasp on some of these pastimes. Brad would take great pleasure in mocking me for my inadequacies. I needed to practice. Where to start? I saw the pool table and smiled, remembering Daniel leaning over the table in his parents’ basement. I’d drooled as I’d gotten my first glimpse of his bare forearms, admiring his broad shoulders and tight ass as he’d hitched his leg up to expertly execute the shot.
Two and a half months.
That’s how much time had passed since that playful but very revealing exchange. It hardly seemed possible that it was so long ago. On the other hand, considering what had felt like a lifetime of waiting in the interim, it seemed like far more than nine weeks had passed. And now there we were—a couple—in every sense.
I crossed decisively to the rack on the wall and grabbed a pool cue. I chalked the tip and then took two of the scattered balls and lined them up at one of the corners of the table. This was a completely contrived shot, but I had to start somewhere. I leaned over and made a little bridge with my hand the way Daniel had taught me back in February. I brought the cue back and slid it forward, hoping to connect with the white ball and possibly sink the red striped ball waiting in front of the pocket.
Ha! Not only did I not sink the striped ball, I didn’t even hit the white ball. Instead, I jabbed the end of the cue into the green fabric, leaving a blue, chalky smudge on the felt.
“Fucking piece of shit,” I muttered.
“Aubrey, what are you doing?”
I whirled around, my hand on my heart. Daniel was standing against in the doorframe, watching me. His gray track pants hung low on his hips.
“Daniel! Crap, you scared me.”
“Well, frankly, you’re scaring me, too. What are you doing to the poor, defenseless table?”
“I was trying to get that stripy ball to go in the hole,” I explained, pointing to the corner of the table.
“Ah, I see.” He crossed the room and stopped in front of me. “This is very upsetting,” he said, taking the cue out of my hand.
“I know. I’m sorry. The chalk will come out, right?”
I rubbed at the smudge, but he pulled me back.
“Don’t worry about the table. That’s not what I meant. I was actually talking about my teaching abilities. I thought I’d done a better job of instructing you, but that was a while ago. Perhaps you need a refresher.”
Oh, now I saw where he was going with this. There was something in his eyes—that easy confidence. This was the Daniel that feared nothing and no one. God, how I’d missed him. I rested my hands on his bare chest.
“Don’t blame yourself. As you say, that was a while ago. From what I remember, your instructions were outstanding. A refresher would be a good idea, though. You know, to clarify a few points.”
He smiled at me—a slow, lazy smile, eyes hooded and playful. He placed the pool cue on the table and then reached around my waist, slowly slipping lower.
“Where are your panties, Miss Price?”
I made a big show of pulling up the hem of the T-shirt, feigning shock when I saw that I was naked underneath.
“I swear I was wearing panties a few minutes ago. It might have been that look you just gave me. I don’t think they st
ood a chance.” I snapped my fingers. “Poof!”
“I really do have quite an effect on you, don’t I?”
“I suppose you do.”
“Suppose? Can’t you be more definitive than that?”
I took his hand and drew it between my legs.
“Definitive enough for you?”
“I’ll say,” he said, running his fingers along my wet skin. “You know the feeling’s mutual, right?” he said, his lips close to mine as he moved his hand around to my lower back.
“Yes, I do think I feel something mutual, right about…there.” I shifted my hips against his. He closed his eyes and moaned, his hand tightening at my waist.
“Last time I tried to teach you to play pool, we were rudely interrupted.”
“I was very disappointed. The lesson was reaching a high point, if I recall.”
“Would you be terribly disappointed if I put off this lesson in favor of—other pursuits? I gave you time off for good behavior earlier, but there’s this very pressing job that needs to be attended to before we leave today.”
His voice made me tingle down to the very tips of my toes. I quickly shed the T-shirt, throwing it on the corner of the table. As he looked me up and down, the saucy dimple came out to play. Sexy motherfucker.
“What if this job doesn’t get done?” I ran my fingers under the waistband of his track pants and licked my lips.
“I’m afraid it would reflect badly on your performance appraisal, and that would be a shame. Things have been going so well.”
He tilted his head and ran his fingers lightly up my sides, bringing them to rest at the swell of my breasts. It was all I could do to remain standing, never mind continue the suggestive banter, which was obviously one of Daniel’s favorite forms of foreplay.
“You know, I have this overwhelming desire to please people, Mr. Grant. Would you be good enough to drop your pants so I can get to work?”
He smiled wickedly. “There’s that initiative I so admire, Miss Price.”
Better Deeds Than Words (The WORDS Series) Page 32
