Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (48 page)

BOOK: Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2)
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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)

S
PENDING
M
ORE
T
HAN
A F
EW
S
TOLEN
M
OMENTS
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
employe
d. 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 W
OKE
A
ND
G
LANCED
A
T
T
HE
C
LOCK
R
ADIO
—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.

BOOK: Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2)
7.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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