"Why are you asking me? You're the puppet master, remember."
"Well, well. You finally admit I'm in charge."
"The only thing I'm admitting is that I may not invite you to my dinner," she retorted.
Loving--liking--this teasing side of her, he said, "Someone is just asking for a spanking, isn't she?"
"What is it with the Porter men and spankings? Your dad told me your mom used to spank you when you sassed her. And he recommended I do the same. But he did warn me that you would spank me right back."
"I guess you'll have to spank me and find out. And, Thea? I really hope you spank me." Daniel kissed her temple. "As for my last six guests, I'd have to go with my mom, Santa Claus--"
"Who isn't real."
"I make the rules, remember? I want to know why I never got that miniature racehorse I asked for." He continued. "Also Betty Crocker, Winston Churchill, Moses and Jessie Kay would receive a coveted invite."
"That's a great list." Smug, she said, "Too bad my dinner party will totally blow yours to smithereens."
"Well, well. Look who fancies herself a bona fide party planner. Let's hear your list, Mathis."
"First, I have to know who's picking up the tab for the dinner."
"I will. If I'm invited."
"Well, heck. I guess you have to be now. So. You, of course. Lyndie and Ryanne. I think I might even invite Harlow, Jessie Kay and Brook Lynn. Princess Diana for her grace and charm. Marilyn Monroe."
"Why Miss Marilyn?" He noticed her mom and Holly hadn't yet made the cut.
"I want to learn her tricks for enchanting everyone she ever met, as well as everyone else ever born."
"Sweetheart, you don't need any tricks. You've got it nailed."
She gave him another hmph. "Jason Momoa. Because wow. Theo James for the same reason. Oh, and Veronica Corningstone and Ron Burgundy, because they are the best news anchors of any generation, ever."
"Ha! Gotta say, that's a whole lot of beefcake at your table."
"But not enough. I'll put Al Roker on the waiting list."
Daniel pretended to think for a moment, then nodded. "All right. Even though you didn't invite the pups--"
"They will be sitting on our laps, so I figured I didn't have to count them."
"--your list passes my test. You are now officially my girlfriend."
She twisted his nipple a second time, not stopping until he yelped.
Laughing now, he pried open her fingers. He brought her knuckles to his mouth, kissed them one at a time, savoring the softness of her skin.
In response, she yawned, the trials of the day finally catching up to her.
"Try to get some sleep now, okay?" he said.
"You staying?"
"I am."
"All night?"
"All night. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
*
COCOONED IN WARMTH, Dorothea drifted in and out of a light doze, her mind racing. Love, she realized. Daniel had called her love before. And he'd done it more than once.
She knew she shouldn't read too much into it, but her heart soared. What if he was falling for her?
Fantasizing about a future together, she lost track of time but managed to remain cognizant of her surroundings. The mattress springs bounced and squeaked as the dogs jumped down. There was a soft patter of paws, then equally soft sighs. One thump, then another. She was pretty sure the pair had just sprawled across the floor.
Daniel grunted.
He had spent hours with her, distracting her, making her think and laugh and forget. Every second, his arms had been around her, offering comfort.
Like her, he must have fallen asleep when they'd lapsed into silence. His grunting soon turned to groaning, his body jerking as if he'd been punched or shot.
"No," he mumbled. "No, no."
She'd done her research, as planned, and most PTSD experts agreed it was best to let a nightmare run its course unless it was severe. Then a gentle nudge and a few softly spoken words might be in order. Although, you had to be careful when giving that gentle nudge. The dreamer could attack.
Dorothea decided it would be best to move out of striking distance. If he hit her, even while unconscious, he would hate himself. She stood at the side of the bed and whispered, "Daniel. Daniel, wake up. It's Thea."
His thrashing slowed.
"That's right," she said. "Come on back to me."
The thrashing stopped altogether. With a gasp, he jerked upright. His wild gaze scanned the room. When he spotted her, he stiffened, scrubbed a hand down his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"I'm glad you did." He'd been there for her. Now she would be there for him. She climbed back into bed and cuddled into his side.
"I'm going to go," he said, and made an attempt to stand. "You need your rest."
"So do you." She threw herself on top of him, pushing him back onto the mattress. "If you leave, you'll force yourself to stay awake, and that's not good for you."
"I don't care. It's better than the alternative," he said, but he didn't try to dislodge her.
She rested her head just above his heart. "Guess what? It's your lucky day. Dr. Freckles is in the house, and she's going to take care of you."
His heart kicked into a faster rhythm against her temple. "I thought you hated your freckles."
"I did, but someone keeps telling me how awesome they are. That someone even likes to lick them, so I've decided to embrace them."
"This someone sounds smart."
"He has his moments." She removed his shirt and traced her tongue around his nipple. "He's very tasty. Sometimes I just want to eat him up."
He fisted his hands in her hair. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah." This time, she grazed his nipple lightly with her teeth. "In fact, I think I'm going to make a meal of him...right here, right now."
"I should do the gentlemanly thing and tell you that you don't have to do this."
"But you aren't a gentleman," she said with a smile. She kissed the center of his chest and drew her tongue all the way to his navel. Then she stripped him to his underwear...drew the material beneath his sac.
"No. I'm not."
"Guess what?" She clasped his erection. He was long and thick. Hard as steel. Lips parted, she traced her thumb over the tip, a bead of moisture rising up to greet her. "I'm very glad about that fact."
He moaned a sound of abject pleasure.
She lowered her head, and as he stiffened with anticipation, she said, "Testing, testing. One, two, three. Is this thing on?"
He barked out a laugh, just as she'd hoped. "It's on. I swear."
It most definitely was, and it was only growing harder by the second. Nearly writhing with the intensity of his need, he waited...waited...for her to run her tongue over the head. The moment she did, he groaned an animal sound and released her hair to grab the sheet, as if he feared getting too rough with her.
"Now, just so you know," she said, batting her lashes at him. Then she gave the tip another lick. As he jerked, feminine power flooded her. "I've never known the touch of a man. I've lived on a deserted island my whole life, and you're the first male I've ever seen. I'm going to do my best to give you pleasure, but I'm afraid I'll fail."
The look he leveled on her suggested he'd never seen a woman, either. Well, not one like her. "I'm an iron-willed explorer and a hard taskmaster. You won't fail, because I won't let you. I knew you were untouched the moment I spotted you in your fig leaf bra and panty set, but I decided to take a chance on you anyway."
What!
"Lesson one. Once you start, do not stop," he said. "When you mess up, and you will, because you're so innocent and all, I'll give you pointers. You're welcome."
Jerk, she thought, trying not to laugh. He'd turned the tables on her, teasing her right back. Well, she would teach him the error of his ways.
Dorothea sucked his entire length into her mouth, earning a roar...and she didn't stop until she'd wrung him dry.
C
HAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DOROTHEA WOKE ALONE, no sign of Daniel or the dogs anywhere, but at least she awoke with a smile. After her gentleman lover had come in her mouth, he'd thanked her, embraced her, and she'd thought he'd had every intention of easing the need he'd stoked in her--but he'd fallen asleep instead. She couldn't work up a good upset; for once, his sleep was peaceful.
However, she remained awake and on alert. If he had another nightmare, she would be ready, a blow job engaged.
As sunlight had stolen into the room through the crack in her curtains, fatigue had gotten the better of her and she'd finally drifted off. But she'd ached for Daniel. Oh, how she'd ached.
How she still ached.
It's my turn to come.
Rather than going for a run, she locked herself in the bathroom, stripped and hopped in the shower. Afterward, she painted her nails with a white undercoat, and yellow, blue, purple and pink stripes. And, rather than dressing, she donned the infamous raincoat. The last time she'd worn it, she'd been sick with nerves. Now she shook with anticipation.
She was going to trust Daniel with her body. After all, he'd trusted her with his past and she'd trusted him with her greatest heartbreak. He'd had his hands and mouth all over her. Why not his eyes, too?
No more holding back. No more regrets.
She should probably wait, at least until after working hours, but time wasn't her friend. If she lost her nerve...
After tying the belt around her waist, she exited her bedroom. I can do this.
A pale-faced Holly waited at the bottom of the stairs. She was chewing on her nails.
Dorothea expected to feel rage, but all she felt was a hollow sensation. "Not now, Holly. Go to school." She tried to pass, but her sister jumped in her way.
"I'm sorry, Dottie. You were right. I've been a spoiled brat. I wanted to hurt you, but I wanted you back with Jazz, too. I thought we could be a real family and this hole in my chest would finally be filled."
"Not now," she repeated. She was too raw, the wounds too fresh. "And don't call me Dottie."
This time, Holly let her pass without impediment when she sidestepped.
"I didn't know," Holly cried behind her. "I didn't know you'd named the baby after me."
Dorothea paused but didn't look back. "You shouldn't have to know to forgive me or feel sorry for me or whatever it is you're doing. What ever happened to just because I love you?" She kicked into motion, determined to push the encounter out of her mind. Today was about pleasure, only pleasure. Everything else could wait.
The sound of hammering drew her to the first floor...to the door of the theme room. The open door. She gaped, overcome by shock. The room was bursting with activity. Harlow was painting another mural. Jessie Kay sat on the bed, her head bent over her sewing. Daniel was building a new headboard. He was shirtless, which wasn't fair to Dorothea's hormones. The dogs were at his feet, chewing on his boots. Lyndie and Ryanne were chatting about the upcoming spring festival and picking up strips of tattered comforter. Jude and Brock were sanding the floor.
Tenderness welled inside her. Family wasn't such a bad thing, after all. These people loved and supported her.
Daniel pointed the hammer at Jude. "If you want your skull to remain in its current condition, you'll--" His gaze found Dorothea, and he quieted. He took in her "outfit" and the darkness of his pupils spilled over his irises. "Get out. Get out of the room. All of you. Now. Brock, take the dogs."
His urgency thrilled her, arousing her to a fevered pitch.
"What the hell, man?" Jude grumbled.
"Well, clutch my pearls." Jessie Kay placed her needles and material in a basket. "What's gotten into my sweet Dan--Ohhhhh. I get it now. Our boy wants a little some-some from his girl."
Jude and Brock noticed Dorothea, and Brock smiled a wicked smile. Jude nodded. Laughing, her friends clapped. Dorothea stood her ground, unabashed.
Daniel gave his friends a push. "Out!"
Everyone rushed into the hall. The guys patted her on the shoulder, and the girls winked at her. Daniel never took his eyes off her. She placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob, stepped deeper into the room and, with a little push, closed the door. The locked engaged.
He took her hand and studied her nails. He kissed her knuckles.
This man...
Her legs grew unsteady as she moved to the center of the room, but her blood practically fizzed like champagne bubbles as she untied the coat. The material gaped open, and cool air kissed her heated skin.
Daniel sucked in a breath. "Off." A croak. "All the way."
I think you're perfect just the way you are.
She shrugged, the material slipping to the floor, leaving her bare. In the bright light of day.
Tension pulsed from him as he walked around her. Slowly. A predator soon to devour his prey. He had on pants, but she was naked, and she experienced a sense of heightened awareness, very conscious of the fact that she was being studied as thoroughly as a science experiment. Her heart raced, determined to win against some invisible competitor. Her nipples puckered. The apex of her thighs ached, and her bones felt as if they were melting.
"Do you know," he began in a husky voice, "how beautiful you are?" He stopped in front of her, so tall and wide he dwarfed her. His gaze burned through flesh and blood and encountered soul. "Exquisite."
The intensity of the moment staggered her, but a tangible weight held her in place.
"And you, Daniel." How to explain the depths of her feelings for him? Her deep admiration for him, spirit, soul and body. "You are amazing. Wonderful. Strong. Sexy. You are magnificent. And sexy. You're smart and talented, your carving skills unsurpassed. But it's more than that. You are kind. You care, and it makes others care for you. You're protective and...perfect. I think you're perfect just the way you are."
He reached out, his fingers trembling as they brushed over her tattoo, then one of her scars. At the moment of contact, she inhaled sharply; how could a simple touch be so incredibly pleasurable? Easy. Because Daniel was the one who'd touched her. The rasp and heat of his skin, the musk of his scent, the awed look in his eyes--they were her favorite things in the whole world.
"The things you do to me," he said. He bent his head and fit his teeth around her nipple, taking a little nip. Blood rushed to meet him, causing the bud to swell with need. He gave the other one a nip, as well. "The things I'm going to do to you..."
"I hope your energy is high this morning." She shivered. "I've got a little of that insatiable lust you mentioned."
"The job of a gentleman lover is never done." He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. The sheets were chilly as he laid her down, and his tags and the locket were like ice when they clanged against her chest.
She loved the dark smattering of hair on his pecs and under his navel. Loved the bronzed hue of his skin. The tensile strength and sinew he'd earned on the battlefield. She loved his scars; they said I lived, I survived.
He rubbed his hand up and down his rigid length before he unfastened his pants, maintaining a slow, languid pace, not in any kind of hurry, but savoring every second he spent with her. She loved that, too. They'd sprinted to the finish line before, and as amazing as it had been, this was better. She got to savor him, too.
The pants were kicked aside. Soon his boxer briefs joined the pile. Because the lights were on, she received her first full-length view of him, and--someone save me--he was big. Really big. Her X-rated Prince Charming.
She cursed the fear that had kept her from this, from seeing all of him.
"Spread your legs." His voice was nothing but a harsh rasp. "Let me see you."
She obeyed without hesitation, showing him just how wet she was for him. Just how intensely he affected her.
His eyelids hooded as he traced a finger along her aching core. "Look how pink and pretty you are."
Pleasure zinged through her, and goose bumps broke out all over her skin. "I think I was made just for you," she sai
d, almost drunk on pleasure, remembering when he'd admitted her body fit his.
"That's right. Made just for me. I'm the only one who can have you. The only one who can have this." The possessiveness of his tone was almost as potent as his next caress.
"Then take it." Her hips arched up to meet him. A challenge. A dare. "Take it now."
"Oh, sweetheart. You're playing with fire...and I'm going to make you scream for it." He took her hips in his hands and yanked her to the edge of the mattress. After he placed her feet on his shoulders, he dropped to his knees.
So vulnerable. And yet she had never been so turned on.
He leaned in to nuzzle her inner thigh. The stubble of his beard tickled her but also sent a riptide of pleasure zinging through her, and she moaned. He kissed around her core, and waiting for his mouth to reach her where she needed him most was as much agony as ecstasy. Bowing her back, she reached overhead and fisted the pillows, offering herself up to him in every way. Calloused fingers kneaded her breasts before tracing a path of flame down her stomach...but still his mouth remained just out of reach.
She'd told him to take what he wanted. Now she would heed her own advice. She lifted her hips again, higher and higher, until...
Contact.
His tongue swiped out, and she moaned with bliss...rapture. Her head fogged. He fit his hands under her bottom, holding her up as he licked her, faster and faster. When she was crying his name incoherently, he delved his tongue deep, deep inside her to mimic the motions of sex.
"Will never get enough of this," he told her, and replaced his tongue with two fingers. The emptiness was finally, deliciously filled. He sucked on her little bundle of nerves and brought her to a swift and brutal climax.
She screamed to the ceiling, her spasms growing in intensity, racking her entire body. When the last one faded, she sagged against the mattress and tried to catch her breath.
He jackknifed to his feet, his lips glistening in the light. His erection stretched toward her, weeping at the tip.
"We're not even close to being done, love." With one fluid motion, he flipped her to her stomach. The mattress bounced as he worked her into the position he wanted her. On her hands and knees, her bottom in the air. Delicious! His strength and aggression were on Technicolor display, his hunger for her driving him.
"You even have freckles on your back," he said. "I am the luckiest man on this planet."