Object of My Affection (22 page)

As I kissed along the curve of his hip I could contain myself no longer. All of this time I had deliberately avoided touching certain parts of him. The fine shimmer of sweat across his forehead made it clear that I was in fact torturing Alfred.

I straddled his legs again as I leaned forward and took the part of him that I had avoided between my hands. I brushed the sides of my face up and down the length of him and Alfred fought against the restraints. But I was good at tying knots and I dared not set him free.

I released him abruptly and his look of disappointment almost made me laugh. I retrieved the bowl of leftover cherries from the table by the bed and I could have sworn Alfred whimpered.

After I placed the bowl beside him, I slipped out of the robe and scooted it underneath his hips. I reached into the bowl as I once again straddled his legs. With my right hand I crushed the ripe cherries and watched in fascination as the juice poured over the honeyed bronze of his skin, leaving faintly pink trails.

I placed both my hands firmly on the bed beside his hips and leaned forward to lick the juice from his body. He cried out as I took part of him into my mouth, only to release him seconds later in order to better lick the juices from his writhing flesh. I slid my hands underneath him and squeezed the firm muscles of his backside as I continued to clean the juice from his body with my mouth.

When the torture became too great, even for me ...
I took
him
. I took him like a wild ravening beast claims its mate in the wild. Alfred was mine, and every inch of him would remember that in the morning. But for now, I wanted to hear it.

“Tell me you’re mine,” I breathed against his throat. “Let me hear you say it.”

“Sono tuo,”
he moaned repeatedly.

Even though he spoke Italian I understood him, and it was what I’d needed to hear. Like a raging storm my passion rolled over us, sweeping away our minds in a tide of desire.

His words had brought me such release that I nearly passed out as I rested my face against his chest.

“Oh, my God,” he breathed. For the next several minutes Alfred alternated between mumbling, “Oh, my God,” and something indiscernible in Italian. But I suddenly felt very weak and very sick.

“I don’t feel good,” I mumbled as I rolled over Alfred and off the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but I
really
don’t feel good.”

“Untie me,” he said.

I sort of staggered to each bedpost and with one tug the knots were undone. I left Alfred to untie the belts from his wrists and ankles while I stumbled into the bathroom. When he found me just a few minutes later, I was sitting on the cold tile in the bottom of the shower with my face pressed against the wall.

Alfred swept me onto his lap and held me against him as he asked, “Lilith, what’s wrong?”

“I feel sick,” I mumbled as I wrapped my arms around him.

“Describe it to me. Are you nauseous?”

“Not really. I feel weak ... not just the weakness after really good sex.” I laughed softly.

“What sort of weakness?”

“I think I’m going to faint,” I whispered against his chest.

He held me in silence for a moment before asking, “What time did you say Richard called you the other night?”

“It was late ... near midnight. I couldn’t sleep, so I’d decided to go down to the training room.”

“And you were out all night fighting werewolves and in fear for the life of your friend?”

“Yes,” I tried to nod and my head fell limply forward.

“And then you came home to me, and we slept this afternoon for what ... three and a half, maybe four hours?”

“Mmhm.”

“Considering the lack of sleep, and the fact that you’ve not eaten nearly enough to heal your wounds so dramatically, I think we’ve discovered the reason for your weakness. That’s not even taking into account the way you just worked me over.”

I smiled and it took effort. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure,” he said as he tilted my head back and looked at my eyes. “You just look exhausted to me.”

“Are you sure? I feel really bad,” I grumbled.

“I am a doctor, remember? Take my word for it.”

My eyelashes fluttered and I started to see spots.

“Come on,” he said, scooping me up again like I weighed nothing.

Alfred sat on the side of the tub with me still in his lap and I listened to the sounds of him adjusting the water temperature. Opening my eyes would have taken too much effort.

I must have dozed off or passed out because the next thing I knew, he was easing me down into the warm water.

However, unlike the last time we’d been in the tub together, he didn’t have to put me in first in order to get undressed.

Fortunately, Alfred was already naked. He just stepped into the tub and carried me with him.

“You didn’t want to go to bed sticky?” I asked once he’d gotten us both settled.

“I have nothing against cherries.” He grinned. “But yes. I didn’t want to be sticky.”

As I snuggled against his chest he added, “You should appreciate that because I would have just spooned up against you and then you’d wake up to a sticky ass.”

I chuckled and it made me feel nauseated, so I took a few minutes to just lie there and let my stomach settle. Alfred wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly against his chest. The warm bath water heated his skin to the point of feeling almost feverish, but I took comfort in the warmth.

He began to massage the back of my neck with the hand that had been cradling my head and I moaned. “This feels familiar,” I said sleepily.

“Yes, it does.”

“Will you molest me this time?” I teased.

“I don’t think I have the strength,” he said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Speaking of which, won’t Marcy be angry that you didn’t have the
strength
to go out with her?”

“Not likely.” He sighed.

I pulled back to look at him and asked, “You lied about the date?”

“No. But I’d already called her and cancelled before you came down to the lab.” He smiled. “I had the strength. I just didn’t have the heart.”

His dark eyes sparkled alluringly and I stretched upward to kiss him. Alfred had such nice lips, so soft, perfect for kissing.

The touch of his warmth seemed to revive something within me and desires that should have long been sated were awakened once again. It was not sex that I craved, but the press of his warm flesh against me. I hungered for the taste of his lips and the feel of his strong embrace. I moved so that my face rested against the curve of his neck and sighed contentedly.

I fell asleep while Alfred washed my hair. There was something about his long fingers running across my scalp that relaxed me completely. When I woke up, Alfred had just stood, lifting us both from the water. I was so tired. I kept taking deep breaths as if I could never get enough oxygen.

Instead of trying to dry me, Alfred just wrapped me in a large cream colored towel and lay me at the foot of the bed while he dried off. My eyes would not seem to stay open, but I heard him toweling his hair and turning down the covers.

When he came back a few minutes later he started drying my hair and I fell asleep again as soon as I heard the sound of the blow dryer. I vaguely remembered wondering if I’d gotten any of the cherry juice on the covers.

—

The next thing I knew, it was morning. Alfred’s big warm body was wrapped around me like a blanket and I snuggled back against him. But what had woken me? The sun was just rising and the bay window in Alfred’s room that overlooked the rose garden was directly in front of my face. Even though the window was all the way across the large bedroom, the light managed to cascade directly onto the point of my nose.

No wonder Alfred slept on the other side.

The minute I slid off the bed Alfred grumbled and flung one arm across his eyes. “What are you doing?” he mumbled.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Is that alright with you?”

“Hmm,” he groaned.

When I came back I took a moment to appreciate how good he looked lying there. His ebony hair shined in the early morning sun like a dark gem, and the bronze of his skin looked magnificent next to the golden sheets. He looked like some sort of Greek god, come to Earth. And he was mine.

Every inch and sinew of that gorgeous body was mine.

I smiled to myself as I closed the bed curtains and slipped back between the satin sheets. I ran my hand over the soft hair on his chest and sighed. “I love a man with a hairy chest.”

He laughed. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, I can cancel my appointment to be waxed.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too.”

I lifted my head enough to look at him and he grinned.

“Ok, so I wasn’t going to be waxed. But that’s really something you don’t hear everyday.”

“I think you’re confused.” I chuckled as I snuggled back against him. “It’s hairy backs and butts that women don’t like, but a hairy chest is fine.”

Alfred wrapped his arm around my head and squeezed me against him. “Any other myths of female preference you want to clear up this morning?”

“Now that you mention it, I’d like to talk about size.”

“What?”

“It matters.”

“Do tell?”

“Anyone who says differently either doesn’t measure up, or they’re with someone who doesn’t measure up.”

Alfred smiled. “I thought it was skill that mattered most?”

I leaned over and kissed his forehead as I replied playfully, “Honey, they both matter.”

“So you’re saying it doesn’t matter if you’re captain of the Titanic if it sinks before you reach your destination?”

“Exactly.”

—

I fell back asleep with my head against Alfred’s chest.

When I woke again a few hours later, I thought it might be a nice surprise for him if I made breakfast. So, I slipped out of bed quietly, put on the top to Alfred’s black pajamas and went to the kitchen. I had just started the coffee when I heard a knock at the door. I thought it must be Kat, and for her to show up so soon after Alfred’s phone call, it must be important. So, I answered the door.

Fortunately, Alfred’s pajama top reached to mid thigh on me, so I wasn’t indecently exposed. But, I was still standing there half naked, staring into the pointy nosed face of Marcy Johnson.

She looked as prissy as ever, same wide ass and flat chest as before, all squeezed into an ankle length pink dress. Her makeup was over done, as it always was, and I could tell that she’d put some effort into her frizzy blond hair. She obviously wasn’t expecting to see me.

“Lilith, I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Well, it is my house.” I forced myself to smile. “What brings you here ... so early this morning?”

“Is Alfred here?” she asked.

She had balls, I’d give her that much. Showing up at
my
house and asking for the naked man in
my
bed. Well, it was his bed, but you get the point. I’d decided once that given the opportunity I would hurt Marcy. But here was my opportunity, and I didn’t have the heart. I know what it feels like to be hurt and couldn’t bring myself to treat another person that way, even one I despised. No matter what I said, she would surely be hurt, but there was no need to make things worse.

When I didn’t answer she said, “We had a date last night.

When he called to cancel, I assumed he was sick.”

“He’s not sick. He’s asleep.”

Reality began to dawn slowly on her prissy features and I stepped onto the porch with Marcy, closing the door behind me.

“Since you’re here, let me explain something to you, Marcy. First of all, I know you don’t like me. I see the judgment in your eyes every time you look at me. But that’s not important. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me, and what you might hear in town is unreliable. If you stay around here long enough, you’ll find out that most people around these parts have nothing better to do than tell lies about the people who
do
have something better to do.”

Marcy took a few steps back and nearly stumbled down the steps before bracing herself against one of the pillars on the front porch.

“Anything I say to you now, will hurt. I know what that feels like and it’s not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” she asked.

The haughty tone to her voice made me blurt out the point most indelicately.

“Alfred was with me last night.”

She gasped and placed a hand over her bosom.

“Marcy, I’m sorry. I was trying to be nice about it, but you just won’t let me. I love Alfred, and I didn’t take him from you just because I could.”

“Then why did you?” she stammered.

“I didn’t, Marcy. He was never yours.”

The hatred in her eyes was plain to see as she turned to leave, but I stopped her. I turned Marcy to face me and forced her to look into my eyes.

“Look at me,” I pleaded. “Alfred has been a part of my life since I was a child. You could never have competed with that.

Last night I was true to my heart when I spent the night with him. And you’re here this morning to be true to yours. I understand where you’re coming from. But don’t hate me because I got here first.”

“Thank you.” She sighed shakily. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

“Excuse me?”

“Not for today, because you’re right. I did what I thought I had to do. I’m sorry for the things I thought about you ... for believing the things I’d heard.”

I stood there in stunned silence as she continued, “The woman I’d heard about would not have just leveled with me the way you did. I’m starting to think you’re right about this town.”

“I’ve lived here off and on my whole life, trust me. The people here aren’t all bad. It just depends on whose company you keep.”

Marcy crossed her arms and leaned back against the porch column as she asked, “Do you know Lola, at the video store?”

“Shit. No wonder you looked at me like that. Lola hates me. We went to high school together and I can tell you her personality hasn’t improved over the years.”

Marcy laughed. “Yeah? Well, she was the first person I met when I came to town. As a matter of fact, she’s the one that suggested I stop by here and meet Alfred.”