Sexual congress between Dalia and her two partners was to be as fair and even as she could make it so that neither of her partners felt as if they were favored above the other.
It sounded workable in theory. Dalia wasn’t at all sure it would, but they were about to find out. After the signing, they decided to dine out to celebrate. Claire enjoyed the first thirty minutes and began to fuss as soon as the food arrived. It was Dalia’s night to keep her, but, in the spirit of their new partnership, Pierce offered to hold her while Dalia ate.
When they returned home, Dalia looked at both her hopeful partners and smiled apologetically. “Tonight’s Claire’s night,” she said, shrugging. Seeing that both of them were about to object, she added, “I’d rather not be interrupted and have to get up and walk the baby.”
Pierce and Reuel exchanged a look. “Cards or chess?” Pierce asked.
Feeling far more hopeful that they might actually manage a comfortable relationship between the three of them, Dalia retreated to the room with the baby. Claire slept for the first time without waking once, but Dalia found she was having a good bit of trouble sleeping. The following day was to be Reuel’s day to keep Claire and she found she was both excited and nervous about spending her first night with Pierce.
She tried to dismiss it. It seemed absurd to feel so jittery when she’d always felt so comfortable around him, but it continued to plague her dreams even after she slept and, despite the fact that she was busy the following day, it only got worse as the day wore on.
She supposed, deep down, that she was worried that they might not click as well in bed as they did the rest of the time, and that Pierce would be disappointed in her. Or, perhaps worse, she would find that they weren’t sexually compatible and might have trouble convincing Pierce that she found him as desirable as she did Reuel.
Whatever the case, when she finally realized that she, Reuel and Pierce were all watching the clock that evening, she decided to go to her room and try to reach a state of calm. There was a great deal to be said for a hot soak over the perfectly balanced temp of a particle bath. Bathing in water had its own drawbacks, but the soothing power of water could not be underestimated.
She soaked until she heard Reuel leave the living area with the baby. She didn’t want her time with Pierce spoiled any more than vice versa and she thought the best way to avoid it was to make certain she didn’t run into Reuel on the way to Pierce’s room.
Hopefully, once she was with Pierce, she’d be able to focus on him and not think about the fact that Reuel was most likely in the other room gnashing his teeth.
She was so jittery, she dropped the gown she’d chosen twice before she managed to pull it over her head. All the sleeping gowns she’d bartered for since she’d arrived in Gallen were beautiful and alluring, to her mind at least, and all so sheer she felt the next thing to naked. She thought, perhaps, that something a little more conservative would make her feel less anxious, however, and chose the one that fell all the way to her ankles. Slipping her arms into the matching robe, she took several slow, deep breaths to calm her nerves and moved to the door.
She was more than a little disconcerted to discover the sitting room was empty and dark. Hesitant now, she stared at Pierce’s closed door, wondering if she should go to him or not and finally shook her doubts off and crossed the room, tapping lightly on his door.
He opened it almost at once. He was bare foot, and bare-chested, as if he’d been on the point of undressing for bed. Dalia swallowed nervously, wondering if she’d never actually seen him half naked before or she just hadn’t noticed before how beautifully sculpted his body was. She felt her heart flutter nervously in her chest as his gaze slid slowly down her length and then up again. Without a word, he grasped her hand and pulled her into the room. They stood toe to toe, staring at one another for several moments. Finally, nerving herself, Dalia lifted a hand to his chest.
He jumped when she touched him. “Your hands are cold,” he murmured, catching her hand between his and rubbing it.
Dalia bit her lip. Tugging her hand free, she dropped it to her side, gripping the folds of the gown. “I’m scar... nervous,” she amended.
A slow smile curled his lips. Lifting a shaking hand, he slipped it along her shoulder, curling his fingers around her neck and tugging her toward him as he leaned down. “Never be afraid of me, Dally,” he murmured, plucking almost playfully at her lips with his own.
Mesmerized, Dalia went perfectly still, holding her breath as warmth flowed through her veins. His ragged breath, sawing in and out of his mouth, brushed hers, mingled, flooded through her as she sucked in her breath sharply.
He lifted his head, slipped his hands along her shoulders and down to her waist. Pulling the belt free, he pushed the robe from her shoulders. It fell to the floor with the faintest whisper of sound. He looked the gown over, skated his hands over her breasts, cupping them, and finally hooked his fingers in the thin fabric at the neck of the gown and pushed it from her shoulders, as well. It slithered down her body, caught briefly on her distended nipples and then slipped free, settling around her hips.
He swallowed audibly as stared at her, finally lifting his hands and tracing the slope of her breasts with the lightest of touches, almost as if he was afraid to touch her, or feared she would vanish at his touch. “You’re so beautiful, Dally,” he whispered hoarsely.
Something warm and poignant traveled through her, not so much at his words but the way that he said them that brought a hard knot of pain into her chest. To her horror, she felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked them rapidly, trying to dispel them, but he saw.
His face twisted. “We don’t have to do this, Dally.”
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, and surged toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, rocking her slightly.
“It’s all right, baby. Shhh.”
“It’s not all right,” she managed.
He pulled a little away from her and scooped her into his arms. Carrying her to the bed, he sat down on the edge with her on his lap and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “No tears, Dally,” he ordered, giving her a mock serious frown.
She sniffed, tried to smile and managed something more like a grimace.
He chuckled. “Was that supposed to be a smile?”
She chuckled, and then sniffed again. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to lay with me and cuddle?”
Grimacing, he released her and very carefully adjusted her gown, then took a deep, shuddering breath as if he were about to dive under water. “Anything for my Dally,” he said. Turning, he dropped her onto the bed and then lay down beside her on his back. Tucking his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling as she scooted close against his side and laid her cheek on his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, stroking the little patch of dark blond hair that grew in the center of his chest.
