Chapter 23 #2
Rolling out of bed, I head to the bathroom and quickly shower to freshen the area. It occurs to me Darcy could’ve been doing the same thing. Why else would she be showering at three in the morning? It’s an interesting thought, one I’ll probably ruminate on in the morning. But, for now, sleep.
Quickly, I put on a fresh pair of black pajama pants and then toss my comforter to the side and rip the sheets off the bed.
If I throw the sheets and pants into the wash now, the evidence of my nighttime deviousness will be gone by the time Darcy wakes.
Though, as I exit my room, I am caught red-handed as Darcy, hair still wet from her shower, steps from the stairwell into the common area between our rooms holding a hot cup of tea.
She is dressed in something I’ve never seen on her before.
Though, considering the mounds of clothes we bought, that fact isn’t surprising.
The sexiness of her outfit is. It’s not lingerie, but it might as well be.
Deep maroon in color, satin in fabric. She wears a thin-strapped tank top with a tiny bow in the center of her chest, as if she is a present needing unwrapping.
The top is paired with a set of matching satin shorts with black lace trim around the hem. Definitely Ana’s doing.
“Uh…” I find myself at a loss for words as I glance between her and the laundry room just to her right.
How am I supposed to explain myself? All I know is I’m thankful for my recent release because without it, the sight of her would be my undoing.
The slight edge of sleep in her eyes, the redness clinging to her freshly washed skin, the way her shirt strains over her nipples.
I wonder if she only wears the granny pajamas outside of the bedroom because of me.
Not that I have a problem with her typical look.
She looks amazing in anything, but this… this is ravishing.
As if feeling me undress her, she looks down at herself and crosses her arms semi-gracefully over her chest while still holding on to her teacup. “I ran out of clean pajamas,” she offers. “Tomorrow is laundry day.”
“I’m not complaining,” I admit. The sheets suddenly feel heavy as my arms beg to be near her, wrapped around her.
“Is there something wrong with your sheets? Were they not clean enough?” she asks.
“No, they’re perfect. Or they were. I just…spilled something. I was going to put them in the wash myself. No sense in bothering you with this, especially since tomorrow or today is Sunday.”
“It’s no bother,” Darcy says, taking a step toward me. “I can—”
“I’ve got it,” I assure her, moving toward the laundry room.
“Alright, well, I’ll get started on redressing your bed.
” I could say that’s unnecessary as well.
I could insist she head to her room and enjoy her cup of tea.
But perhaps some of the salacious energy from my dream still lingers.
The sight of her in my bedroom, near my bed in that outfit, that’s a view I can’t pass up.
Not to mention, she’s far too awake at this hour for my comfort.
I wonder what’s keeping her up? Though my thoughts originally considered a similar reason to mine, with her past, it could be several things—nightmares, even.
Perhaps her offer to help me is just an excuse to not be alone.
With that in mind, I continue to the laundry room, dump the sheets and pajama pants in the washing machine, and set it to the correct cycle.
When I return to my bedroom, Darcy has already pulled the spare set of sheets from the armoire and is changing the pillowcases as well. “I just thought it best to keep the set together. It’s more aesthetically pleasing and just better organization,” she says.
“A wise thought.” I move toward the bed.
Darcy’s drifting eyes as I approach remind me I’m not wearing a shirt.
While it isn’t the first time she’s seen me without one, I hope my presence in this setting doesn’t make her uncomfortable.
Noting my gentlemanly concern, I let out a sigh of relief. Okay, I’m back.
Darcy and I work together to dress the king-sized bed. Once finished, she grabs her teacup off the bedside table, offers me a shy smile, and begins her retreat to her room. Only, I’m not ready for her to leave. Will I ever be? Unlikely. Her presence is addicting. “Stay,” I say.
“What?” Darcy turns around with a quizzical expression.
Before she gets scared, I explain, “We’re both wide awake. Maybe we can tire each other out before going our separate ways. You know, so you don’t wake Delilah with your restlessness.” Darcy nods as I offer a decent reason for her to remain in my bedroom just a little while longer.
She takes a step toward me. Brows furrowed, she sips her tea. “Tire each other out how?” she asks.
There’s a catch in my throat as I hear the sexual innuendo in my words repeated back to me.
God, I wish. Even though I just had a release, it’d take nothing for me to go for round two.
Fuck those sheets! I’ll sleep in our cum after we’ve both finished.
But knowing now is not the time for that tantalizing line to be crossed—at least, in reality—I say, “However you’d like.
” Putting the ball back in her court is the safest bet.
Darcy considers my words for a moment while taking another sip of tea. Oh, she’s really thinking about it! I can’t help but register the sudden excitement bouncing in my chest. It’s then that she meets my gaze with a smile.