Strung (24 page)

"Oh.  Yes ironic."  So no girlfriends at Donavan's Pass?  Hmmm.  Does that include the cabin?

"It will be nice to have another woman to talk to, but please tell me to shut up if I talk too much," she babbles on, fussing with the pups as we wait for the water to boil.

"The kids will love these guys."

"I'm sure they'll love the kids."

"Do you want me to bring your coffee?"

"Actually yes please.  I'll be in the living room."

"Okay, I'm making one for Grace as well.  She is really nice," she smiles genuinely.

"Yes she is." 
It is time to talk to Grace about giving up her social life and relocating to the hills.  I doubt I will have any opposition.

~.~

12th April

There is a peculiar day of the year. 
It is a day that cannot easily be predicted.  It's not marked in diaries, publicised or even given a name.  This day is peculiar because of a rather strange but enormously uplifting phenomenon.  This day is today.

I don't recall ever experiencing anything quite like it, when I lived in Africa.  I suspect has something to do with the climate at certain latitudes.  I wonder how many people will slow down enough today to notice it and appreciate it.  I do - and I love it.  The windows are wide open and a soft breeze is dancing through the room.

I sniff the air.  Oh yes.  Today is definitely the day.  All the tiny leaf buds on the trees, all the spring shoots, pushing up through the ground, the total absence of snow and frost; none of these things herald the onset of spring quite like this.  Today is the day when the temperature rises just that one degree.  That one degree, that means the difference between the sterile winter air that only the strongest of smells can permeate and the warmer summer air, rich with fragrances of pine, grass, damp earth, sun and life.  

The assault on my olfactory system is made all the more sweet by the scent of Chayton, his heart beating steadily beneath my ear and lingering fragrance of lovemaking, body wash and clean sweat.  

"Are we taking the Rocket to Seattle?”  I ask, twirling my finger through the slightly damp curls on his chest.  It has been a magical few days since Monday's earthquake; even working has been a delight.  But it would be nice to see a little bit of civilisation again.

"Of course.  I wouldn't want to miss this fantastic weather!"

I smile and shift onto my elbows to see him better.  His hair is a glorious mess, spilling off his scalp and onto his forearms as he tucks his hands behind his head.  His eyes are sparkling in the morning light and his stubble, from this angle, gives him a dark dangerous look.

"Can I ask a favour?"

"Sure, anything."

"Well it is Friday, and I know we have that dinner thing and everything, but..."

"You're not going to try and avoid the dinner again, are you?" he frowns.

"No, I've given up trying.
”  I pout.  "It's just that I have this little Friday evening habit and it's one I'd hate to break."

"Habit huh?  What is it?"

"I want to go to SUBWAY."

"The takeaway place?"

I nod.  "I'm kind of partial to my Meatball Marinara with everything.  It's my Friday night treat."

Chayton rolls his eyes and laughs.  "Is that all
?  I was expecting drugs, gambling or even a Friday night swingers club!  For you, I'll buy the whole food chain," he jokes running the tip of his finger down my nose.  "Get in that shower before I change my mind about going to Seattle at all."

I slide reluctantly out of bed and head to the bathroom, Chayton following close behind.  I brush my teeth quickly while Chayton sets the temperature on the shower and I join him under the huge
showerhead.

"Can I ask you a favour in return?" he asks as he starts messaging shampoo into my scalp.

"Depends...what is it?  Drugs, gambling or Friday night swingers clubs?" 

"I want to choose a dress for you to wear tonight."

"I only have two, it won't be a hard choice," I frown.

"I don't mean from your closet.  I want to buy you a dress.  But I want to choose it."  His fingers still in my hair and I turn to face him.

"Why?”  I ask, warning myself to stay calm.

"If I take you to buy a dress, you will first look for the cheapest three dresses on the rack, then you'll pick the one that will allow you to be invisible.  Tell me I'm wrong."

I stare at him for a moment.

"Okay, Mr. Donavan.  You have me sussed.  But tell me why there is anything wrong with that."

His fingers start kneading my scalp again as he talks.  "On the surface, nothing.  But, can I just say that your attempts at invisibility, whilst obvious, do not work very well.  Head back," he orders and starts to rinse the shampoo out.  "You could wear a sack and look stunning."

I flush at the unexpected compliment.

"Just this once, I would like you on my arm and not the arm of some cactus in the corner of the room.  I want you
feel
as special and as beautiful as you are and it would be amazing to know that I have helped you feel that good.  Think about it?"  He plants a kiss on my nose. 

I run through his reasons. 
Surely, I can do this.  He
is
asking, not ordering.

"Okay fine.  But if I end up looking like a clown, I'll make you go in your green tights," I warn.  And
I am serious.

"Thank you, for trusting me," he breathes and sweeps his arms around me, crushing me to his frame.  I push the uneasy feelings into my giant suitcase of messy issues and wrap my arms around his hips, snuggling against his chest.  I can do this one small thing right?  Of
course, I can!  I find a nipple enticingly close to my nose.  I wonder if his nipples are as sensitive as mine.  I lick my lips.  The temptation is just too much.  Shifting my head the inch required, I draw the tiny bud into my mouth, nipping it softly with my teeth as my tongue flicks around it. 

"Fuck woman, have you no shame!" he growls in my hair.

I blow a raspberry at him, grinning broadly and feel him twitch against my belly.  He growls again and lifts me off the floor pushing me up against the wall.  Like a greedy squid, I wrap myself around him, ankles hooking on his hips, hands behind his head.

"Is this what you want?" he growls and thrust into me hard and deep.  Deeper, than I imagined possible.  His fingers are pressing painfully into the flesh of my buttocks and my tender breasts are flattened between us.

"Ah!"

His eyes pierce mine, burning me.  "Well?  Answer me," he growls again, withdrawing with agonising slowness.

"Is this..." he slams into me.  "What you want?"

I whimper in frustration as he slowly pulls out again, then
...  "Yes!  Oh fuck yes!”  I hiss tugging at his hair, and flinging my head back as far at the cold tiles will allow, as he buries himself again with another punishing thrust.

"Oh Angel, you only had to ask," he starts to move, fast and ferocious and too soon, we are both a soggy bundle on the shower floor.

"I'm having second thoughts about going to Seattle on the Rocket," I muse.  The shower spray is pounding down on my back as I curl on his lap.

"Oh?  Why?"

"Because I might just be saddle sore before we even get started."

"Is that so?
”  He is amused – the bastard!  "Well in that case we are definitely taking the Rocket."  I feel a hand cup me intimately and gently.  Just holding me.  "That way, I can spend the whole two hours, thinking about you." 

"Okay," I struggle up, peeved.  "Just so you know, Mr. Donavan, I expect you to think about me anyway.  Always.  So I don't see, how me being saddle sore, has any additional bearing on your thoughts."

"I always think of you, Acacia.  You beguile me.  Every waking moment - and most of my sleeping ones too - are filled with thoughts of you," he says looking serious.  "But this time I'll be thinking of you, thinking of me, while your ass reminds you why it hurts."

"Oh!
”  Okay, how did I not see that one coming?  Whew, it has gotten warm in here!

"Seriously, Acacia, are you okay?  I didn't really hurt you did I?"  His face creases with concern.

"No more than I wanted you to," I smile and lean forward to kiss his frown away.  "Stand up so I can wash you.”  I order softly.

~.~

"Acacia, if you don't pipe down, I'm going to have Morgan forcibly remove you."

"But the dress is too much!
”  I wail at the $980.00 dress tag.  Not one of the dresses he has pulled from the rail is less than $700.00.  The prices are obscene!  One even went as high as $1600.00!  "It's a scrap of fabric that will be out of fashion in less than four months!"

"Morgan!"

I stare at him wide eyed.  "You wouldn't!"  I spy Morgan striding purposefully toward us, looking very body-guardish, in a severe black suit and black tie. 

"Yes Sir."

"Oh for heaven's sake Morgan, stop being so formal!”  I huff.  Sheesh, ever since we met up with him at Chayton's Bellevue home he has been overbearing.

"At least we agree on one thing," Chayton mutters sourly under his breath.  "Morgan, please take Ms. Ward back to the car and wait for me."

"Yes Sir," Morgan replies with the slightest hint of humour in his eyes.

To my dismay, he adjusts his body between Chayton and myself and gestures toward the exit with one hand.

"What no!  This isn't fair!”  I wail trying to peer around Morgan's solid frame.  Chayton has seated himself on the plush love seat and is watching in amusement.

"Fine!  I'll go naked – or, or – or not at all." 
I am tempted to stomp my foot at the end of my little tirade, but opt for a full on pout, and crossed arms instead.

I wait for a response.  Nothing!  Just two slightly amused faces waiting patiently for me to leave the store.

I pick up my purse and struggle into my shoes.  I glare at him, offering him one more chance to reconsider.  Chayton leans back, spreading his arms across the backrest and smiles sweetly, offering me a quick wave goodbye.

Fine.

I turn on my heels, ignoring the pitying gaze of the perfectly groomed shop assistant as she steps aside.  As gracefully as I can manage, I stride out of the store, onto the West Court of Bellevue's exclusive Bravern Complex.  Instead of stopping with Morgan to wait for the car, I continue to on, toward a coffee shop on the far side. 

"Ass."  I mutter under my breath.  A Valet, driving a black Lamborghini
, is forced to wait for me, as stride across the driveway ignoring it.  I don't know if Morgan is following and I am not going to check.

I bolt up the stairs at the entrance.  The line at the counter is mercifully short and I glance up as a
cute, pigtailed, counter assistant approaches.

"Good afternoon.  Bad day shopping?" she smiles.

Sheesh, is it that obvious?  "You could say that," I grumble.  "Can I have your most popular coffee and whatever dessert you can recommend that will go well with it?"

"That bad!  I'll bring you something special," she winks and sets about putting my order together. 
I am not going to tell her that I don't want to look at the menu because I am afraid of the prices.  I hand over my credit card and gather up her creations, heading to an empty window seat and sink into the comfortable armchair with a sigh.  My tantrum is running out of steam.

I lean back in my seat and spy Morgan below, hovering near the entrance to the coffee shop.  His phone is glued to his ear and he
does not look pleased. 
Well good!  Screw him!  Screw them both!

I
look at the delights I have probably just paid a small fortune for.  It all looks amazing.  I have absolutely no idea what the pudding is, but it is creamy and frothy and coco nutty and yummy.  The coffee is pretty damn good too, with... is that a hint of hazelnut?  Nice blend, I muse.

Hardly surprising, Chayton eventually slides into a chair opposite me.  He rests his elbows on the table between us and runs a finger along his lips, gazing at me with serious eyes.  I put my cup down and lean back to assess the damage.  He looks, well hot of course, but also concerned?  It's hard to tell.  I somehow don't think an apology is on the
cards though, at least not yet.

"Just so I know," he says cautiously.  "Is this about your history with Robert?"

I frown.  I don't know.  Is it?  I don't think so.  "No." 
Crap Acacia, you could at least sound convincing!

"Do I need to call Victoria?"

"No!"

"Good," he announces, leaning back.  "Then we can carry on fighting.  This is fun."
  He ignores me glaring at him over the top of my cup as I take another sip of my coffee.  "I've got your dress for tonight.  Oh yes and a pair of shoes I'm having some serious fantasies about."  I shudder and clench at the excitement in his low voice, my indignation, temporarily forgotten.  "There is also a little something, I can't wait to peel you out of," he purrs and I'm forced to put my cup down before I spill.  "Hey what is that?  It looks good."  He waves to Ms. Pigtails.