Chapter 39 – Grant
H er love is all the wealth I could wish for.
Our friends came over to admire the mural. They raved over Daisy’s wonderful maze in particular. “That’s Grant on the Pegasus,” my wife had informed them proudly. One glance at the men told me I’d be hearing more about that at a later date.
“I never knew you had such artistic talent, Grant,” Dean commented wryly over my very basic heart with its very honest message.
“Next time you decide you’re an artist, maybe don’t wear a suit?” Samuel suggested.
“Thanks for the praise and helpful advice,” I’d told them before flipping them off.
There had been a couple of reporters moving in, hoping for a story once the observers were no longer being restrained. “They can tell stories without talking to you,” my wife had said, putting her foot down and informing our friends of my illness. Jameson and Ezra had done an excellent job of getting the reporters to go away just as Luis had pulled the car around.
Nestled in the backseat with my wife, it was warm and comfortable. Far more comfortable than my tent had been. Luis suggested picking up something quick to eat and, with a full stomach and Daisy by my side, I’d felt my eyelids getting heavy.
“Wake up, Grant. We’re home,” she says softly in my ear. My heart feels so light when I think of it as our home. I couldn’t stop smiling if my life depended on it.
Glancing toward the house, I see the servants lined up on the steps to greet us, headed by Mr. Radcliffe and Mrs. Keating. “All this ceremony is not called for, I assure you.”
“We just wanted to make sure you made it home alright, sir. Shall I ask the doctor to come ‘round again and check on you?”
“How was the painting, Daisy? Would either of you care for some tea?”
“I’ve made a stew if you’re hungry.”
“No, thank you all for your kindness and attention but…” My hold on Daisy tightens as I lose myself in those cornflower blue eyes for a second. “We’ve already eaten and I believe I have everything I need to feel better at the moment.”
With a few murmured jests about newlyweds, they disappear into the house. We walk along the hallway where the gallery purchases hang, Daisy telling me about each one, its artist and how delighted she is by her gift. I’m glad she loves them but the gift she gave me outshines them all.
Meanwhile, weeks without touching my wife has left me eager to change that. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Yes, you should probably rest-”
“That’s not what I had in mind,” I tell her, waggling my eyebrows.
“Grant, you could barely stand on your own feet last night and- WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU MANIAC?!”
“Carrying my bride to our bed to have my way with her.” She clings tightly to my shoulders as I do just that while laughing with glee at my desperation.
There’s a trail of paint-splattered clothing from the door to the bed but neither of us can focus on more than touching and kissing each other as much as possible. Laying her gently down on the bed, my eyes drink in every detail of her beautiful body, her skin flushed the most delectable shade of pink.
“Grant,” she beckons, sinking her fingers into my biceps and trying to pull me close. She meets no resistance. Her fingers trail down my chest until she reaches my erection. I groan, completely in her power when she starts stroking me.
“Careful or this will be over way too fast,” I warn.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you came on me and instead of in me… but I don’t want that this time.”
Neither do I.
Knelt over her, I spread her legs, running my hands along her smooth flesh and then lowering myself to inhale her bewitching scent. “My sweet peach… my Goldilocks,” I murmur, kissing her knee. She giggles until I meet her gaze and rasp, “My wife.”
She shudders and squirms. “Your wife. And, you’re my husband. Grant… now.”
“I want a taste first.” I wedge myself between her thighs, kissing her pussy. She moans as I lick her, savoring her musky arousal. Swirling my tongue around her clit, I guide her steadily toward a release. Even more tireless than her battery-operated friend, I will never grow bored with pleasing my Daisy.
“I love you, Grant,” she whispers once she’s floating in her first bliss.
Rising up to my knees, I move up her body, slowly burying myself in her welcoming heat. “And, I love you. For all my life, I will love you.”
∞∞∞
When I wake the next morning, my pillows smell like peaches again. But, yet again, my wife is not beside me.
“Daisy?” I lift my groggy head, looking for her. I don’t have to look very far. “I’m putting an alarm on this bed if you insist on getting out of it without my consent.”
She laughs and goes back to what she’s doing by the window - painting.
“What are you creating now?”
“A portrait of my handsome, grumpy husband fast asleep.”
I feel my cheeks grow warm. She wants to paint me? “Make sure you get my good side. And no mythical animals in this one.”
The rich sound of her laughter really fills this bedroom, this entire house. I never want a day to pass without the sound of Daisy’s laughter ringing in my ears.
“I’m enjoying portrait painting. I may study it more seriously. I need something to earn my keep around here if I’m going to stay married to you after all.”
“Why would you need to earn your keep? You can have anything you want.”
She sets her paintbrush down and saunters over to the bed, dressed in only my t-shirt. It’s a look that’s made for distracting a man. “But, I won’t be getting my millions if I don’t divorce you,” she says, teasingly.
“Oh, is that all? How about we make a new arrangement?”
“Like what?” she asks, flopping down beside me.
I roll her to her back and lay my head on her belly, tracing a swirling pattern along her hip. “Well, no prenuptial agreement was put in place so I’ll just have to give you everything.”
“Be serious, Grant.”
“I am. Every last cent. It’s yours if you want it Daisy.”
She rolls her eyes, thinking this is just a game. “And, what are you going to do if I wind up divorcing you? Not that I ever will.”
“Then, I guess I’ll have to fall back on this entry level position I have at this security tech firm…”
She laughs, smacking me across the face with her pillow until I’m hovering over her, deadly serious.
“Get this through that pretty head of yours, Goldilocks. You will never go without again and you won’t ever feel dependent on me to keep you that way. The money is nothing to me compared to the thought of not having you.”
She softens beneath me, her amusement chased away. “When I was a cleaning girl at Golden Gate, do you know what everyone said of you?”
I shake my head. “I suspect it wasn’t good.”
“They said you were hard-nosed, cold-hearted and tight-fisted.”
“They had every right to think that,” I sigh.
“But they were wrong. I’ve never known anyone as giving as you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I am. You just needed a little motivation to start you off,” she says with a shrug.
“I know someone more giving than I’ve ever been.” I pull her to her feet, standing her in front of the floor-length mirror by the closet. Placing her body in front of mine, I lightly caress her cheek. “Look at the beautiful woman in the mirror there, Daisy.” She does. “Good. Now, you are looking at the person who turned this tight-fisted, cold-hearted billionaire into a different man, one who’s learning what it means to have a giving heart, an open heart, and he can’t thank her enough for that.”
Her eyes glaze with tears as she turns in my arms, seeking a kiss. I gladly give her a dozen before speaking again.
“While we’re on the subject of generosity, there was more to my camping in the maze than atonement.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to know what it was like because there’s something else I want to discuss with you, something important I want to do that I’d like your help with…”