Page 46 of Darla's Christmas Knight
His breath hitched, and his stare darkened. “Darla,” he groaned, cupping her core. “You’re not wearing panties.”
She fluttered her eyes. “Oops.”
His grin turned downright lascivious. “You are such a naughty woman,” he said. “And so very wet.”
“Only for you,” she repeated, rasping.
“Damn straight it’s only for me.”
His fingers started their dance. And she eased her body down into a slight slouch, allowing him deeper access. Tilting his head, his mouth hovered over hers. “I’m gonna mess up your lipstick.”
“I’ll fix it afterward.”
His lips touched hers, mimicking the movement of his fingers.Light and teasing at first, then harder and faster as her need gained strength, as she climbed higher and higher, desperate to reach that alluring peak. And when she did, she bucked her hips wildly, yet he stayed with her, knowing where to apply pressure. He caught her keening cry with his mouth when she tipped over the edge, her body shuddering out of control. He continued his ministrations, easing her down until she slumped, depleted, against the leather.
He lifted his mouth from hers and winked. “Told you I was good at improvising.”
“Guess I’ll keep you around,” she replied, breathless.
He chuckled. “I am so very grateful for that.” His expression turned serious. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, Darla. I promise you’ll never regret it.”
“I know.” And she did. With absolute certainty.
This time she and Bobby were for keeps.
He dug into his jacket pocket and whipped out a … handkerchief. And proceed to wipe her clean and pull her skirt back into place.
“Quite the knight, aren’t you?” she wryly intoned, shifting upright.
He folded the cotton square and gave her a sly look as he repocketed it. “I know for a fact our hotel room has a couch. Maybe we can pretend it’s the back seat of a limousine? I’ll even let you call me Sir Robert.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She flashed him a saucy grin. “Sir Robert.”
*
They dined at a top Lubbock restaurant, sharing a crab starter. She chose the filet mignon as an entree, and Bobby the ribeye steak, the latter vying for first place with her melt-in-your-mouth filet. They took their desserts (key lime pie for Bobby and strawberry short cake with extra cream for her) to-go.
It was a short ride up to their hotel room where they pretended the couch was a limo seat. She whispered instructions in her knight’s ear, which he obediently followed. He did, however, add some embellishments of his own with the help of the extra whipped cream.
After a shower, they climbed into bed and shared his key lime pie.
And fell asleep watchingPretty Woman.
*
Christmas morning …
Bobby was still fast asleep. Which suited Darla just fine. She slipped from the bed and made her way to the living area, stifling a yawn. They’d gone out last night, first to her parents’ home for the traditional Miller Christmas Eve dinner, after which they attended the midnight mass at church.
The glow from the microwave clock was enough for her to find the switch for the Christmas lights, and she snapped them on. The tree (exactly six feet) lit up like a … well, like the Christmas tree it was.
She found yesterday’s card she had placed on the coffee table and walked back to the tree. Fastening the card to a branch with a miniature peg, she made sure the illustration (the number twenty-four intertwined with Christmas lights) faced outward. It had accompanied her Christmas present (a pair of diamond earrings) with its message:
You are the sparkle in my life.
Picking up the soft cashmere blanket draped over the couch,she wrapped it around her shoulders. Not because she was cold, but because she needed the security it represented. The blanket was another gift from Bobby. One she had received on the nineteenth with a card depicting a polar bear holding a wrapped present. A half-smile formed as she recalled the note:
It reminds me of your skin – delicate perfection.
