Chapter Twenty-Two #3
‘Now you know why I’ve been trying to summon up some restraint,’ he growled into my ear, his arm snaking round my waist. ‘Much as I’d like to ravish you, I’m worried about hurting you and don’t deny it, you’ve winced through every brush stroke of your teeth, I saw you.
It’s more pills, an ice pack and bed for you — nothing more . . . tonight.’
My hormones gratefully acknowledged that they were all talk this evening and slipped into standby mode. There was always tomorrow. The last thing I remember is Daniel lifting me into bed and sliding in next to me from the same side. He shuffled me into the middle of the bed and nestled me into him.
I made a tentative stroke of his chest, breathing in his smell, exhaling warm breath over his smooth skin. He caught my hand and turned his head to mutter in my hair.
‘Olivia, you need to rest, I’ll still be here in the morning, but I can only take so much.’
I snuggled into his warm body, and I fell fast asleep to the beat of his heart pumping away, solid and safe.
* * *
‘Morning, sleepy head,’ said Daniel when I came to the following day.
‘Morning.’ My voice was husky as it found itself. I felt so much better. I tried an experimental smile and lifted a hand to touch my cheek, the swelling had definitely gone down and the pain was low grade, quite manageable, which was just as well.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, scooping his arm around me to pull me nearer. I squirmed savouring the delicious feeling of his warm skin, deliberately rubbing against him.
‘Better,’ I murmured. ‘Much better.’ One of his legs grazed mine.
A tiny gasp escaped me. The hair-roughened skin had set light to a thousand little nerves racing up my thigh.
His other arm slipped under my shoulder and he pulled me close.
His bare chest was warm and solid, my breasts crushed against it, the smattering of hair tickling slightly.
My heart bungied its way down to my toes, lurching with instant desire.
His eyes were dancing with mischief. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, I’m sor—’
He laid a finger on my lips to stop my apology. I gave it a gentle nip, just touching it with the tip of my tongue. His eyes widened for a second, the pupils darkening in surprise. Watching him mischievously, I gently sucked on the top of his finger.
‘Olivia, I’m not made of iron. You need to rest,’ he murmured into my hair.
‘I’m fine,’ I said and leaned forward to plant a long slow kiss on his lips. He touched my cheek very gently. ‘You’re so banged up. Are you sure about this?’
I kissed him again, this time a little more forcefully. My hips inched forward, I couldn’t help myself. It was a sinuous move, nudging up against him, urging him on. I felt him hesitate for a few seconds and then he groaned.
‘Olivia, are you sure?’
‘Daniel,’ I said a touch crossly. ‘I’m sure.’
He smiled at me and immediately deepened his kiss. My body melted into his, as one hand smoothed my breast, teasing the nipple, which immediately jumped to attention. Forget butterflies, my stomach had taken off with all those fluttery feelings.
My skin felt hot where those warm hands were sliding back and forth.
An involuntarily moan slipped out. Daniel lifted his head, looked down at me and gave me an arrogant smile.
Well, two could play at that game. My hand slipped down his back, sliding over his hard hip and down, stroking down the length of him with a feather-light touch.
A delicious gasp escaped him and I grinned delightedly at him.
‘Minx,’ he growled, cupping a hand round my head and moving over me. Heat was sweeping downwards. Passion was building, a slow, sure fire being stoked by every writhe and move. Our sighs punctuated the morning and little murmurs of acquiescence danced on the air as the momentum and urgency built.
All shyness and that early tentative exploration was gone now. The experimenting and teasing was over. Our breathing roughened as small moans of demand filled the air, a delicate negotiation of desire taking place as unspoken pleas for this and that danced back and forth.
Finally when I didn’t think I could bear it any longer, my hips nudging and meeting his, he looked into my eyes and I gave him a complicit, age-old nod. We slid into that moment of intimacy; bodies locked together driving towards a climax.
* * *
It was a far cry from Earlsfield, the sunlight pouring through the sash windows, birdsong outside and . . . a gorgeous man in my bed. I stretched, my stomach full of squirmy feelings of happiness. My hand absently brushing against Daniel’s thigh.
‘Oy, give a man a chance.’ He grinned, pulling me on top of him. I stared down into his laughing face, sheer joy lighting me from the inside out. I was glowing and it wasn’t just physical.
‘Now that you’ve had your wicked way with me, I need to phone work. I ought to put in an appearance at some stage today.’
‘It’s a good job your boss is so understanding,’ I teased.
He swatted me on the bottom. ‘He’s a fool but he’s madly in love with a very troublesome wench. You know the type.’
I pouted at him, before registering the first part of his sentence. I stilled and raised an eyebrow. ‘Is he?’
Daniel rubbed my nose with his, Eskimo style. ‘He most certainly is, although he’s not sure how the troublesome wench feels.’
I moved, kissing his jaw line, working my way towards his ear. ‘The troublesome wench is madly in love with him too,’ I whispered happily.
Shifting so that we were facing each other, he looked at me, his hand stroking the ‘V’ between my cleavage and moving to trace under my breast. He smiled gently. ‘That’s good.’
As we lay there luxuriating in the warm-cosy-duvet moment, I looked at Daniel. ‘If you had a choice, which superpower would you pick, flight or invisibility?’
His eyes narrowed at me, giving the question the due consideration required. He tipped his head to one side, eyes screwed up in concentration and mouth moving as he ruminated.
‘Hmm,’ he said. I waited, watching him closely. He knew this was serious stuff. ‘Is there a right answer here?’ he asked eventually, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. I nodded very slowly.
‘Yup.’
‘Any clues?’ he asked.
‘Nope.’
‘Right.’ A heavy sigh followed. He screwed up his face, looking out of the window. ‘Flight . . . definitely flight . . . as long as I don’t have to wear the tights. I always thought those shiny legging things were a bit nineteen-eighties disco, not really very superhero.’
Bingo, one hundred and eighty. I flashed him a kilowatt smile.
He looked smug, laying back into the pillows, his hands behind his head. ‘So, what do I get then? What’s the prize?’
I think he was quite satisfied with his reward.