The Sweetest Charade

by Jadesola James

  * * *

  When they reached the other side of the harbor, they chucked greasy sandwich wrappers and Styrofoam cups into the bins on the dock, and Delysia repacked the cooler as Alexander tied things down. The driver disappeared into the mists surrounding the dock, and Alexander led Delysia up a winding path where a short, stocky man in a pea-green coat and brown gloves stood waving frantically once he spotted the boat.

  “That’s Tim,” Alexander said, amused, and Delysia soon found her hand being pumped by one of the poshest fellows she’d ever seen in her life. His round cheeks and curly brown beard made him look like an early-career Santa Claus. He followed up his handshake with two kisses to each of her cheeks.

  “Welcome, welcome,” he boomed effusively. “Alexander, old man, how are you?”

  “We were at Exeter and Cambridge together,” Alexander explained. “He’s one of my oldest friends.”

  “You flatter me.” Tim slapped Alexander on the back with an enthusiasm that sent him reeling. “Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the sailing over...do, do come this way. I’ve got everything ready for you.”

  “This way” turned out to be a brisk fifteen-minute walk to a lavishly furnished cottage, right on the water, featuring plate-glass windows that stretched from ceiling to floor, a massive fireplace, and a view that rendered all of the other comforts in the cottage virtually forgettable.

  “Enjoy yourselves. Alexander, I’ve wine downstairs, you remember. None of your family’s awful stuff, thank God. There’s a little snack in the kitchen. Delysia, I’ll just pop your bag in the master suite, shall I? I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

  Alexander protested, “Really, Tim, you must stay! Have a glass with us. I’d really like you to get to know Delysia.”

  “Oh no, no, no, I’m not one to be a third wheel.”

  “Even in your own house?” Alexander said with a laugh.

  “Stop it.” Tim gave Alexander another of his spine-shattering pounds on the back and hustled his bulk toward the door. As Alexander turned back to take Delysia’s things to the master suite, he leaned in and said in a stage whisper, “It’s so nice to meet you, really. Alexander is absolutely smitten and your work is simply fascinating.”

  “He told you what I do?”

  “Oh, he couldn’t shut up about it. I was reading your blog until quite late into the night, I’m afraid. You’re an incredibly vivid and witty writer—you must excuse me, I teach English at Columbia. It’s hard to snap out of teaching mode.”

  “I quite understand,” Delysia said with a laugh.

  “We’ve got a texting group, the boys from school. I’m afraid we think him quite a braggart—he won’t shut up about you. I can see he’s exaggerated absolutely nothing.”

  Delysia was touched despite his bluster. “Thank you.”

  “Well.” He harrumphed a bit, clearing his throat. “Have a good time—my home is your home. My apartment is just in Georgetown, so I can get here quickly if you need anything. Alexander’s got my contact, of course. Just let him know.”

  Delysia thanked him again. He doffed his hat, then disappeared down the walk, somehow squeezed himself into a red MINI Cooper, and drove off.

  When she closed the door and locked it, Alexander was standing in the entryway, smiling at her. “What did you think of Tim?”

  “He’s lovely.” She paused. “I also heard about your texting group. Bragging point, am I?”

  Alexander turned crimson and began to stutter. Delysia smirked a little. “It’s okay. You’re very lucky I think it’s sweet.”

  “He shouldn’t have told you that,” Alexander mumbled. His ears were still red. “It was nothing disrespectful, I swear. I just—”

  He was quiet then. Delysia closed the distance between them in a couple of steps and kissed him, soft at first, then full on the lips. When she pulled back they were both out of breath.

  “Thank you,” she managed, then raked her fingers through her curls. Despite his earlier discomfort, Alexander looked just a tiny bit pleased with himself. He shoved his hands in his pockets; silence fell around them.

  “So...?” Delysia said after a moment.

  “Well. Yes. We’ll have lunch, and then dress to go out, and—” Alexander hesitated. “Tim said we could stay here tonight, and there is an extra room. I thought it might be nice, the change. Then we could go back tomorrow, and well, take it from there.”

  Here. Tonight. Alone with him, after a date. She didn’t know... She bit her lip, then realized she hadn’t actually responded. “Yes! I mean, that sounds lovely!”

  Her voice sounded a little high, unnatural, even to her, and she cleared her throat. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so emotional at the thought of a bunch of history and classics professors hearing Alexander fawn over her, or his being embarrassed that she found out, or at the thought of being alone with Alexander, in this deliciously romantic setting.

  Well—she’d find out and soon, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. And she suddenly felt a deliciously tense pull of anticipation between her legs.

  “Come,” Alexander said quietly, breaking into her reverie. “Let’s get some food into you.”

  * * *

  She looked tired, Alexander thought with a sudden stab of sympathy. He was watching Delysia where she was lying on the sofa, absentmindedly thumbing through a book bound in maroon leather, the other hand playing with her hair. She had retreated into a little shell despite his best efforts at keeping up conversation. He knew that he probably wasn’t the best at engaging her—hell, he didn’t know anything for sure except that he liked being with her. But if she was having a terrible time—

  He busied himself by attending to the food. Tim’s “little snack” consisted of creamy tomato soup, very hot grilled cheese paninis, roasted root vegetables, and of course, a cellar full of wine. An angel food cake so delicate it trembled in its box and fresh strawberries with cream completed the meal.

  Alexander set out the bounty on a couple of trays, then brought them out to the sitting room. Delysia sat up quickly when he came, tucking her feet beneath her. He caught a glimpse of small cherry-tipped toes before she did. She cleared her throat.

  “What’s there to eat?” she asked, and her voice was a little too bright, too cheerful. A knot began to twist in his stomach; what if she wasn’t having a good time?

  “A winter night’s feast,” he said grandly, then immediately chastised himself for how fucking stupid that sounded. He placed the trays down on the table.

  Delysia’s eyes widened. “Bless your Tim. I am starving,” she declared, still in that over-bright voice he’d heard her use while streaming.

  “He really did well.” He paused. “What were you reading?”

  She held up the book so he could see, and he smiled.

  “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire? A little heavy, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, it’s one of my mother’s favorites. I first read it when I was ten.”

  “That’s impressive. It’s listed on my thesis, and I never actually finished it,” Alexander said, and laughed. When he sat down beside her she shifted—nervously, he thought.

  Dear Christ.

  Now that he thought about it, bringing her here like this, well, it could be misconstrued as creepy, couldn’t it? Especially since he’d dragged her out in the middle of nowhere, where she’d never been before, with him virtually still a stranger, and—

  Oh God. He’d really screwed up, hadn’t he?

  “...Alexander?”

  He blinked, looked at Delysia. She was peering at him a little curiously. “I’m sorry—I was lost in my thoughts for a moment. What did you say?”

  “I was asking if you needed pepper,” Delysia repeated, lifting her brows. “I’m going in the kitchen to get some.”

  “I—” He opened his mouth to answer her, but
the other words tumbled out instead, running into each other with all the grace and subtlety of—well, a runaway train. “Listen, Delysia,” he said a bit breathlessly. “I don’t want you to think—this isn’t me trying to get you to do anything, at all. I just—well, I thought it would be nice if you had somewhere low-key where you could rest for the afternoon. That’s all. We’re supposed to be going out, I’ve got tickets to Noises Off for us to use, and we’re coming back here to sleep. Not together!” he quickly amended. “Just sleep, and we’ll be back to the Gilded Express in the morning, unless you want to go back tonight, which I can definitely arrange—”

  She was staring at him as if he’d grown another head. “Alexander—”

  “I’m sorry,” he blurted out again, raking his hands over his head. “I really am. It’s just that—you look so tired sometimes. And worried, especially after what happened the other night, and with what’s going on with your mom. I just wanted to help. This isn’t—if you’re not comfortable, let’s go back now—”

  Through the haze of his dreadful word-explosion—which he felt as if he was watching from very, very far away—he could see Delysia set her plate down, sit up, bite her lip. And the next thing he knew—

  She kissed him.

  This was different, too, from all the kisses they’d shared over the past week, both real and fake. She slanted her mouth over his with a bit of desperation, as if she were trying to get across a message she wasn’t sure he’d understand. When they came up for air she pulled back slightly and he opened his mouth.

  “No,” she muttered, tapped his lips with her fingers, and she slid forward, half-straddled his lap. “No more talking. You’re incredibly sweet, but right now you’re not making sense to me.”

  All Alexander could register, at that moment, was the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin. Memories of that afternoon in their berth came rushing back with a speed that made his breath catch harshly in his throat, and when her lips grazed his neck his whole body tensed involuntarily.

  “Don’t you want me?” she murmured, a little soft and a little sad. His response was to let his hands slide precisely where they wanted to, beneath her fleece-lined shirt to the heated skin of her back. He was gratified to hear her sharp intake of breath.

  “Alexander, please don’t stop this time,” she whispered, and when he kissed her again it was with little reservation.

  “I have to, I don’t have—” he started.

  “I do. In my bag. Just don’t stop, for God’s sake.”

  The thought that yes, she might actually have come today with this in mind, that she’d been thinking about it, anticipating it, made him gulp—and made a flash of heat run through his body that he hadn’t felt in so very long.

  Delysia was still kissing him, a little tentatively, but suddenly soft and tender wasn’t enough. He drew her tight against his lap, hands anchoring her hips; he felt rather than heard her gasp of surprise. He twisted and then she was on the sofa, beneath him. She looked up at him in shock, then laughed breathlessly. Alexander felt the last of his reserve melt away into their next fiery kiss.

  Time seemed to blur for Alexander then; it had been so long since he’d done this, with anyone, and Delysia’s lush, soft skin seemed made for exploring, for kissing, for touching. He took his time, breathing words against her skin that made her shiver in the best possible way. Almost lazily, he began undoing the tiny buttons on her shirt as he threaded his fingers through the silk of her hair. Delysia was kissing him back hungrily, almost frantically, fisting his shirt and squirming in a way that was proving to be delightful. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked forward, bringing him in direct contact with the most sensitive part of her. They both exhaled, and hard.

  After a moment Alexander pulled back. He didn’t think he could, but he managed. Delysia stared up at him, dazed. He licked his lips and spoke with a voice that was low and raspy. “Delysia, sweetheart. Eat.”

  “I...” She half sat up, and he had to avert his eyes, as the soft bounty of her breasts, barely encased in pale blush lace, was doing nothing for his reserve.

  “Please, sweetheart. Eat.”

  “But why—”

  Alexander pulled himself away from her with some effort, picked up the bowl of tomato soup, handed it to her. “We’ve got all night,” he said, still quite low. “There—” and he pushed a spoon into her hand, helped her sit up. He watched her take the first, second, third bites, holding her clothing together with one hand, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind completely.

  When their bowls were nearly empty, she licked her lips and turned so she was facing him. “Why?” she demanded.

  Alexander reached out, slid an arm around her waist, tugged her close. He felt her body soften, melt against him; he marveled at how quickly his arousal surged again after the interruption. She was intoxicating. Her essence permeated the air around him, something that he breathed, that stuck to his skin.

  “Because,” he said slowly, deliberately, pushing the soft flannel from her shoulders, which gave him much better access to the parts of her he found most interesting at the moment. A twist of his fingers and the bra was open, spilling her warm and soft into his hands. His thumb grazed the hardening skin of her nipple, and she jumped a little.

  “Be-because?” she managed, as Alexander had gotten a bit distracted.

  “Because aside from a sandwich on the boat, you haven’t had anything to eat all day. And it’s early still and it’s—” He kissed her, soft and sure on the shell of her ear, her neck, and she whimpered.

  “Alexander—”

  “Eat,” he said against her skin. There was laughter in his voice now, and Delysia’s cheeks and chest became suffused by a blaze of color. She threw out her hands as if to ward him off, a little too hard, and hit the bowl, which skittered across the table and landed on the floor, narrowly missing the rug. She clapped her hands to her mouth, and they both stared at it in horror. Then, Alexander began to laugh, and Delysia was laughing too, and climbing on top of him, shedding clothes until all that was left were the flimsiest lace panties he’d ever seen. She pinned him with one hand and started taking care of his clothes with the other, kissing a trail down his neck to his chest. When he groaned, it was almost involuntary, and he knew for sure he’d be needing the contents of Delysia’s bag that night.

  “Wait,” he found himself gasping out again, and Delysia shot him a look that could possibly melt glass.

  “What?”

  “I won’t,” he said, then bit back another groan as her small warm hand dipped to wander to a very sensitive place. “First, you have to promise. I want to date you. Properly.”

  She froze. “Alexander—”

  Two could play that game. He shoved a hand inside her panties and almost lost his resolve; the silken heat was too much. He found the little nub between her folds, circled it slowly. She actually bucked in his arms, but he held her steady.

  “Promise me,” he whispered stubbornly, and stopped stroking her.

  “I don’t want to date anyone right now,” she managed, and the last word came out on a whimper. She shifted her hips, grinding down on his fingertips, and moaned out the next two words. “Not really.”

  “Delysia—” Suddenly a thought came to him. “The trip,” he whispered. “Just till we’re back in New York. I’ll leave you alone then, if you want me to.”

  “Alexander...”

  “Just till the end of the trip.”

  She took a deep breath; he took the opportunity to slide one finger inside her, biting his own lip hard when she cried out, clamping round his fingers. God, she felt so absolutely tight and sweet and ready.

  “Okay,” she gritted out, and he straightened up to draw her in in a searing kiss.

  Chapter Eleven

  One of Delysia’s favorite features on the Gilded Express was the claw-foot tub in th
e bathroom she and Alexander shared. There was something delightfully excessive about sitting in a tub with lavender-scented hot water up to one’s breasts while the world raced by outside. Alexander always made himself scarce during her bath times, as if he knew instinctively that she chose that time to think, to rest.

  The two had stumbled out of Tim’s cottage early that morning, bleary-eyed and yawning, in search of breakfast and a ride back to the train. They’d been bleary-eyed for a good reason: Alexander had woken her at some point that night with a series of soft kisses down her shoulder and spine, and the memory of the slow, sweaty tangle that resulted still had her body throbbing.

  She had not been wrong about their chemistry in bed. Alexander handled her body with a quiet confidence that surprised her; was as observant of her body’s cues as he was his research. Pleasure came slow and sure with him. After, there was quiet conversation, and long lingering cups of tea, and it just felt right.

  Delysia supposed she had a boyfriend now, or if not quite that, someone who planned on pursuing her with the same quiet determination as he did everything else.

  Just till we’re back... I’ll leave you alone then, if you want me to...

  “If I want him to,” Delysia muttered, rubbing her aching head. It was a big if, a very big if indeed. Despite his stoicism, Alexander was excellent at grand gestures. Yesterday had proven that, and to be honest, it fit in perfectly with the little fantasy world that the Gilded Express had created for them. Real life wasn’t as tidy, though, and the emotions that went with it would make things messier than either of them were ready for.

  When she shared these thoughts with him, huddled close in a car on the way back to the station, he’d looked thoughtful.

  “It’s okay to not know what’s going to happen,” he said finally. “Just—if it makes you happy, Delysia, let it. It’s all right.”

  In the place of happiness, though, was deep anxiety, and digging to the source of it would take more energy than she was willing to commit. So she swallowed her misgivings, smiled at him, did her best to keep her promise.