I was ecstatic that my plan was working so far. When we were leaving, he even remembered to grab some bread to feed the ducks at the pond.
On the way over, he fondly described the time he went to the park with a friend from school and the friend’s parents. He got to feed the ducks and was even chased by a goose he had teased. I was happy to know he could come up with one positive childhood memory, even if it had to involve someone else’s parents.
At the pond, Drew and I talked and joked while the ducks surrounded us for their morning meal. He teased a goose, as he had done as a boy and tried to get it to chase me. I was so intimidated by the huge bird, I squealed and hid behind him. He thought this was terribly funny, and was ecstatic to have, finally, found something I was afraid of.
“And isn’t it nice to know you’re not as scary as a goose?” I shot back.
Once the bread was gone, I suggested a race to a particularly large tree. After some daring and cajoling, Drew accepted the challenge.
When we took off, he quickly pulled ahead of me and it looked like it was going to be an easy win, but right before he reached the “finish line,” he suffered some mysterious muscle cramp which made me the winner by default. He recovered miraculously, and complained about how humiliating it was being beaten by a girl, but I was on to him.
We ended up under the big oak tree, laughing. Suddenly, it became clear to me that there was every reason for me to love Drew Larson. I loved him for bringing bread for the ducks, and for letting me win, and for making me breakfast every morning. I loved him for wanting to spend time with me and for watching what I wanted to watch on TV. I loved him for rescuing me from my migraine and for making me an office I didn’t need.
I had spent too much time focusing on the things that were missing in our relationship and too little time appreciating what we had.
I couldn’t control the urge to touch him. Without warning, I slid my hands up his chest, and when they reached his neck, I pulled him down toward me for a kiss.
He didn’t resist. My face had felt chilled a moment before, but his mouth was so warm and inviting, within seconds, my whole body was heated.
Something in his manner made me suspicious, though, so I opened my eyes to see what was going on. I was exasperated to discover him looking around, apparently concerned about whether anyone else was watching.
Breaking off the kiss, I moved my hands up next to his eyes and said, “Focus, Drew…focus.” He got the message and I enjoyed a slow, gentle, but thorough, kiss.
When we got back to the apartment I wondered if I should rethink my next move. I originally wanted to seduce Drew in my bedroom, but it was the hardest room in the house to get him into, and I’d gotten the impression he was appalled at my lax housekeeping, anyway.
The living room would arouse the least suspicion—I might catch him unawares, but there was no bed and I really wanted the first time to be perfect. The kitchen was the room where he was most relaxed, but again—no bed.
His bedroom would be the most convenient, since there was a bed, and he went into it regularly. I wasn’t thrilled about the sterile aspect of it and I was worried his being there would reinforce his control freak tendencies, but it would probably have to do, unless I changed my mind and went with whatever felt right.
He was unpacking the lunch we had picked up at a sandwich shop down the street.
“Can you put it in the refrigerator?” I asked from the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m not hungry yet.”
“I thought we bought it because you couldn’t wait long enough for me to make something,” he complained.
“Well, walking takes away my appetite…temporarily.” It was lame, but he accepted it.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m not hungry yet anyway.”
I changed my plan yet again. I waited in the dining area near the window. It seemed like a romantic spot, so I glanced out and found something to show Drew to lure him over. When I was about to lose my nerve, he came out of the kitchen.
“Come here, Drew,” I said. “Isn’t that puppy adorable!” I pointed to where a woman was walking a beagle puppy on the sidewalk outside.
“Adorable!” he mimicked, causing me to laugh for the hundredth time that morning.
Then, I turned toward him, clutched the sides of his open jacket and gazed up into his eyes. I had never seen anyone more handsome than Drew was when he was smiling. The plan was out the window. I was going on pure instinct, urge, impulse. He looked down at me and placed his hands lightly on my hips.
“You know…I love you, Drew.”
I hadn’t planned to say it. It had just popped out.
He looked stunned. I didn’t see how he could possibly be surprised by the words after all we’d been through, but hearing me say them obviously meant the world to him. His smile faded and he opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
Suddenly, he moved his hands to my back and crushed my body to his. His mouth closed down on mine. Warm, wet, passionate.
One hand moved to the back of my head and applied enough pressure so he could deepen the kiss. Its heat radiated down to my toes. My fingers raked through his hair, as his hand caressed my back.
I was already imagining making love to him, eagerly, passionately. When, at last, our mouths lost contact, I was breathless and hot. He continued kissing my ears and neck with an abandon I hadn’t dared to expect.
When his hands moved down and pulled my hips against his, it felt so intimate, so real, so right. I wanted him to know how he was making me feel.
I whispered in his ear, “I want you, Drew.”
It was as if I’d thrown cold water on him. He froze and released his hold on me. He shook his head slightly, apparently to clear it of the passionate frenzy he had succumbed to only seconds earlier.
“No, Mia. Not now. Not like this.”
Not like what? Beautiful, passionate, loving?
“When?” I pleaded.
His face suddenly held a new expression, and I thought he looked resolved to whatever he had just decided in that baffling brain of his.
“Tonight,” he said. “I’ll make you a nice dinner and everything.”
“We are talking about ‘you know,’ aren’t we?” I asked, throwing his own euphemism back at him.
“Yeah. We’ll do it right.”
I didn’t know we could do it wrong. “Okay, tonight.” I really didn’t have a choice, anyway.
“Oh,” he said. “Try not to look too…alluring.” He disappeared up the stairs.
I had never been so puzzled in my life.
We can’t do it now, but we can do it tonight. Telling him I want him is apparently a deal breaker… Oh, and I’m not supposed to wear anything ‘alluring.’
It is like trying to make love to an alien.
Chapter Fourteen
Never had I had such a hard time picking an outfit. What did he want me to look like? A banker? A librarian? An Indian chief?
So far ‘Alluring Attorney’ wasn’t working for me. I searched through my closet, hanger by hanger. I had always thought of my work wardrobe as professional and somewhat conservative. But after what Drew had said, everything was suddenly very sexy. This blouse was kind of low cut. That skirt was a little snug. At one point, I put on my jeans and a loose t-shirt I’d gotten free for participating in a charity “fun run,” but I felt so hideous when I saw myself in the mirror I immediately tore it all off.
Finally, I reached the back of my closet where there was a dress I had worn only twice. It had a round neck, which only showed the very top portion of my chest, with long sleeves and a straight loose fit. I called it my “funeral dress” because I bought it to wear to somber occasions, but it was no gunnysack, and it was in his favorite color.
I put it on and decided I didn’t look too bad. It seemed appropriate with this dress to wear my hair up so I piled it on top of my head with some loose ringlets here and there, much like it was for the wedding.
It took some effort not
to overdo the makeup. When I went to put on a pair of shoes, I discovered another problem. As I considered the array of very high heels in front of me, I felt downright slutty. Perhaps, all this time, he just didn’t want to feel like he was making love to a streetwalker.
Tired of doubting my own judgment, I reminded myself it was Drew who was the oddity, and any other man would have loved my wardrobe.
~
Drew liked to eat at seven every night, but I decided to reclaim whatever control—and dignity—I could muster under the circumstances and wait an extra fifteen minutes to go downstairs.
I hoped he was suffering from as much anxiety, while watching for my arrival, as I had suffered with my wardrobe dilemma.
At seven-fifteen, I realized the wait had probably tortured me more than it had him, and I headed down the stairs. The living area was darker than usual, so, for a second, I thought I’d been duped and he had left while I was getting dressed.
Then I saw the table, with two long tapered candles lit in the middle. On both the windowsill and the end table nearest the dining area, there were four smaller candles, also lit. It looked magical. The salads had already been set in their respective places and a glass of wine waited for me at my usual spot.
That crazy control freak really is trying to do it right.
I was touched by the effort he had put into our special evening. He came out of the kitchen, right on cue, and pulled out my chair for me.
He had switched his usual white shirt for a light gray silk t-shirt, still under a black suit, and he looked wonderful. I imagined how the silk would feel to my hands when I ran them up his chest.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
So “funeral dress” it is.
Then I noticed something unusual. Drew was a creature of habit, and every night he drank one, never two, glasses of wine with dinner. Tonight, his wine glass held only water.
That’s a great idea. Let’s raise your inhibitions.
~
Dinner was wonderful. Drew had made two of my favorite dishes—lasagna and fettuccine Alfredo. I had to remind myself not to overindulge. I certainly didn’t want to fall asleep too soon.
For dessert, he brought out some chocolate mousse. He wasn’t very interested in sweets, other than Meridith’s cookies, so I knew this was only for my benefit. While I held a spoon in my right hand, licking chocolate mousse off it and giggling like a little girl, he reached across the table and took my left hand in his. He rubbed his thumb back and forth against the rings he’d given me and teased me about my table manners.
We sat, that way, talking and laughing for nearly an hour. I had never felt closer to him. Several moments of silence followed in which I desperately hoped I wouldn’t have to be the one to bring up the subject that was on our minds—not this time.
But just as he had taken the lead with everything else, Drew broke the ice on the topic at hand as well. “Your room or mine?” he asked.
“Absolutely anywhere you want.”
“My room’s cleaner.” He flashed a charming smile.
“Somehow, I knew you’d say that.”
He stood up from the table, but instead of leading me up the stairs with him, he kissed the back of the hand he was holding and said, “I’ll meet you up there in five minutes,” and left.
I wondered what was going on during my wait. With Drew, one never knew. After checking the clock on the wall several times, I determined that five minutes was a very long time.
Finally, when the time was up, I stood and walked up the stairs to his room. The door wasn’t closed completely, so I pushed it gently to peek inside.
I was awe-struck. He had transformed his sterile cell into a love nest, bathed by the light of dozens of little candles.
It hit me that no one in my life had ever put the kind of effort into pleasing me that Drew did every day, and now…
Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. Drew saw me and pulled the door open before I could wipe them away.
“Have you been standing there long?”
“No…I was admiring what you’ve done with the place.”
“I was hoping you’d like it.” A genuine smile let his face.
He was never more handsome. I had butterflies in my stomach.
“I like everything you’ve done tonight.” As I spoke, he reached up and wiped a tear from beneath my eye. He’d removed his jacket before I came in, so he was as undressed as I’d ever seen him.
He took my hand and led me toward the bed. “Did you hear, we got married a while back?” he asked.
“I heard it, but I didn’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” he insisted as he took the pins out of my hair and watched the strands fall to my shoulders.
“Prove it.”
Drew lifted my left hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles right above my wedding rings. Then, without taking his eyes off mine, he turned my palm up and pressed his warm lips to it, as he’d done when he proposed. My heart banged against my ribs.
He raised my hand over my head and twirled me around to face away from him. He inspected the back of my dress. “Good, no buttons.”
I laughed nervously as he grasped the top of the zipper and pulled it down inch by inch. I was sure if he did everything this slowly, I would go crazy before we’d consummated our marriage.
His thumb skimmed my flesh, sending a pleasure chill down my spine, setting all my nerve-endings on high alert. I moaned and arched, like I had before. But, this time, I was sure he did it intentionally.
When I faced him again, he pushed the dress off my shoulders and skimmed it all the way down my body to my ankles. I placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of it. He laid it very carefully on the black chair in the corner.
When he turned and looked at me, he went still. I tried to imagine myself through his eyes as I stood there in my most beautiful white lingerie, bare legs and black pumps. He took a deep, slow breath as if fighting for control. I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to control himself anymore, but I was afraid of saying the wrong thing.
With measured steps, he walked over to me, took me in his arms and stared into my eyes for a few brief seconds. Then, he kissed me so gently it made me ache all over. The passion of this afternoon was gone, but in its place was a sweetness I’d never experienced.
My body and soul had ached for him for so long, I couldn’t wait for him to make the next move. I grasped the bottom of his silky T-shirt in both hands and began pulling it up, and he helped me remove it. However, he had to leave me long enough to hang it neatly over the chair on top of my dress.
I thought about the symbolism of that only for a second until he returned to me. Then, just as I had fantasized a hundred times, I placed my hands on his stomach, sliding them slowly over his abs, up the smooth skin of his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed my wrists.
Again, he was fighting his impulses. But I was on fire. I wanted so badly to push him over the edge and make him throw himself on top of me like he did that night in the car. But I didn’t dare give him a reason to call the whole thing off.
Drew scooped me up in his arms as effortlessly as he did the day he’d brought me from the hotel. He managed to take my shoes off and place them on his dresser before laying me gently on his bed.
The sheets were cool against my overheated skin. I shut my eyes and enjoyed the sensation. The anticipation.
When I opened them, he was naked, with his back to me, laying his pants on the same chair.
As he turned toward me, my body tensed at the sight of his slim, yet well-defined physique. I wondered how he was able to stay in such great shape when all I ever saw him do was cook and eat.
In the candlelight, he looked too perfect to be real—tall and lean and obviously aroused. I was relieved. After so much time together, I finally had some visible proof he found me attractive.
My heart skipped a couple of beats as he walked over to the bed. I made room for him and he stretched out b
eside me. Treating me as if I were a fragile treasure, he put his arms around me, kissing me tenderly on the mouth.
When my eyes remained closed afterward, he lightly kissed each of my lids. I opened them, and saw his gaze move from my face all the way down my body.
The suspense was killing me. After caressing my palm with his fingertips, he pulled my hand toward his face. Planting an open-mouthed kiss on my wrist, he continued up my arm, paying special attention to the crease on the inside of my elbow. When his tongue pressed into the indention there, a tremble slithered up my arm and into my chest.
He bent over me and touched his tongue to the base of my neck, trailing it down through the valley between my breasts. The touch felt so intimate after so many months of deprivation. A flurry of desire intensified inside me. I needed him to lower his body onto mine, press me into his mattress and take me hard and fast.
I moaned, wishing I could take control, but knowing I might ruin everything if I did.
Tentatively, I placed my hands on Drew’s back and pressed my fingers into the firm muscles I found there. His skin was so warm to my touch, I couldn’t wait to feel it on every inch of me.
When he reached behind me, I lifted myself enough to allow him to unclasp my bra. Sliding the straps down one at a time, he removed it and laid it on the bed next to me.
As he gazed at my breasts, I watched his face take on the dazed, passionate look I’d seen earlier that day, when we’d kissed, but he shut his eyes and took in another deep breath.
My love-starved body cried out for more, faster. I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer.
“Some impulses are good, Drew,” I whispered.
The look he gave me was unreadable, as he lowered his head and tasted my breasts, his tongue gradually encircling one nipple then the other.
Electricity jolted through me, from the tip of my breast to the desperately needy spot between my thighs. I moaned again and tried to control my own impulses.
I wanted to beg him to take me. I wanted to tell him I needed to feel him inside me. I wanted to convince him he wouldn’t hurt me. But all I did was sigh as he kissed me and touched me, ever so slowly.
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