“No, I’m lounging, savoring my one cup of coffee a day Gabe allows.”
“I fought the doctor to even allow that, so don’t give me any lip, woman,” Gabe’s voice echoed over the line, drawing a chuckle from Daphne.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Great, actually. Just tired. The doctor said it will improve over the next few weeks. How are you?” Callie asked.
Daphne took a breath, then relayed the events of the night before, the ones that occurredbeforeshe ended up in bed with James. She made a point of stressing hownotclose to any actual danger she’d been in, but Callie wasn’t happy. At least not until Daphne got to the part where Ryan and his team took Weeks into custody. Then she breathed a sigh of relief.
“Think you can come stay here now?” Callie asked. “I’m being selfish, but I have limited time off and I’d rather you be down the hall than in a cabin on the other side of the lake.”
“I’d rather that, too,” Daphne said, then wondered if that was true. If she stayed with Gabe and Callie, then that meant no more nights with James. A wave of guilt promptly swallowed her. She shouldn’t be swayed by sex. Not even damn good sex. James had been in her life less than a week. Her sister was her sister.
“Let’s see what Ryan has to say today, though,” she added. “We need to identify who’s behind this before we truly move on. Weeks is just a player, not the orchestrator.” A delay meant more time with James, for sure. But, more importantly, she’d moved to the cabin in the first place to distance herself from Callie and the baby. She wouldn’t undo the safety measures they’d put in place until she was certain that doing so wouldn’t bring danger to Callie’s door.
“Fair,” Callie said. “Looks like another storm is coming in. Do you think you could come over for a bit before it hits?”
“Nothing I’d like more. Maybe you can show me what you’re thinking about a nursery?”
Callie chuckled. “Not quite there yet. Well, I’m not, Gabe is. But you two can go to town.”
“Perfect. How about I pick up some lunch and head over in a couple of hours?”
Callie agreed and they rang off. As she set her phone down, she knocked her hand against the coffee mug she’d set on the side table. Some of the dark liquid sloshed over the side and onto James’s stack of mail.
Swiping up the small stack of envelopes, she wiped it off with the sleeve of her favorite (washable) cardigan. Thankfully, only the top two letters were hit, with only a couple of drops landing on the lower one.
Setting the rest of the pile down, she waved the top letter, hoping to air-dry it before the damp sank through the layersof paper. As it swayed back and forth, the name on the return address caught her attention.
Why was James receiving a letter from Marrick, Garrison, & Wheeler? The law firm was one of the bigger ones in Europe, with offices in New York as well. She knew because she used them as her estate planners.
The door opened behind her, and she craned her head to look over her shoulder. James paused in the doorway, chest bare, hands on his hips, above his low-slung sweats. His eyes swept the room, then landed on her. Despite the soreness between her legs, her body responded to the heat in his eyes.
She watched him warily as he rounded the couch with purposeful strides. Stopping in front of her, he dropped to his knees. “Reach behind you and hold the back of the couch,” he ordered, hooking his fingers under her waistband and pulling her pajama bottoms down, bringing her hips to the edge of the sofa. Without thought, she did as ordered. And then his mouth was on her. Again. And again, it was good. So fucking good.
She gripped the back of the couch and widened her thighs, her silk top brushing over her sensitive skin. He gave an approving growl and redoubled his efforts, licking, sucking, and lifting her hips to tongue her. Minutes later, she was fighting with herself not to reach for him. He’d told her to keep her hands on the back of the couch. By acquiescing to his demand, she’d agreed to play by his rules. If she wanted what he offered, she needed to stay the course. As hard as it was, he’d proved over and over again that he’d make it worth her while.
Her internal conflict heightenedeverything. The pressure of his fingers on her thighs, the sound of her breath in the otherwise quiet room, the rasp of his tongue as it played her body. It didn’t take much longer for the pressure to start building in her lower belly and upper thighs, concentrating itself in a small area, gathering strength.
“James,” she panted, shifting her thighs almost painfully wide. He slid his tongue inside her, an erotic intimacy she’d never been quite comfortable with but could get addicted to with him. A rush of power swept through her. One as old as time. And although he set the ground rules, and she willingly agreed, she knew who really held control.
“More,” she demanded. He acquiesced instantly, sliding three fingers inside her. She fought between watching him and closing her eyes, losing herself to the sensation. She dropped her chin and looked down. One hand curled over her hip, and his head moved sinuously between her thighs. He was a darker shade of Black than her, and for a few moments, she watched, mesmerized, by the movement of his mouth on her.
One long, languid lick from bottom to top set her nerves on fire before he sucked her flesh into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. She exploded like a flash-bang, suddenly and without warning. A low keening sound escaped her throat, and her eyes fluttered closed. Waves of pleasure rocked through her body so intensely that her head fell against the back of the couch. She hung suspended in that moment for a lifetime, before her body, spent and sated, sagged against the couch.
James gentled his touches, dragging soft kisses along her thighs, before rocking back on his heels and looking up at her.
“I want that for breakfast every day,” he all but growled. Then looked surprised by the words. What caught her off guard, though, wasn’t his declaration, but her reaction. She’d almost begged him for it.
“Coffee?” he asked, untangling her pajama bottoms.
“In the pot,” she replied, dutifully inserting her feet into the legs of her pants. She lifted her hips to pull them on, then offered him her feet. Once her socks were back in place, he rose, placed a kiss on her lips, then ambled to the kitchen. As if he wasn’t sporting a huge erection. She considered offering to take care ofit, but while she doubted he’d say no, she sensed that what he’d done had been as much for him as for her. Maybe more so.
“Any reason you’re getting mail from Marrick, Garrison, & Wheeler?” she asked.
“Who are they?” he countered, pouring himself a cup.
“A law firm. Based out of London, but with an office in New York,” she replied, watching him as he walked across the small room, then joined her on the sofa. For as big as he was, he moved with an intoxicating grace.
