Fanchon's Book(31)

Not that I felt much better myself. But every minute of our holiday was precious, and I refused to allow her little-girl petulance to depress me further. I ordered a pair of potent drinks and suggested a bath. To cheer us both up, I told her.

She sniffed crossly. "It'll take more than that, Fanchon. I'm exhausted. Let's just go to bed, huh?"

"Without bathing? I'm too grimy."

"Me too, but who cares? It won't keep me awake."

"Darling, this is a big occasion. We can't just go to sleep on our first night, can we?"

"I can." Then, after a drowsy yawn, "Oh well, maybe a drink will help. I guess we ought to unpack, anyway."

"Uh-huh. But you don't have to-"

A knock interrupted me; the liquor had come and I scurried to fetch her drink before she changed her mind. Alcohol would give her a lift-and likewise me, although I truly didn't need any artificial stimulant: as I set the tray down and bolted the door, I had a sudden sensation of holiday-spirit giddiness, a lovely emotional whirl that made me want to ring bells and sing carols. We were here. Together. Just the two of us with the rest of the world locked out; why, it was like some kind of delirious super-honeymoon!

Saturnalia time, then. Tired or not, we were going to celebrate-and if my little bride seemed a trifle wilted, well, I was strong enough for both of us. And sexy enough-oh yes, I knew where all my pith-and-vinegar was coming from-wet weather and travel fatigue couldn't cramp my libido on this, our first night of stolen sweets. (Hmm, like that ribald joke Oliver used to tell? Fanchon rides tonight!) It must have been my locking the door that did it, an unfamiliar door sealing us alone together in an unfamiliar place, a bit of seductive symbolism: there was something exciting about clandestine lovers in a hotel room. Right now anything less than an orgy would be like craving tartar steak and settling for soggy meat balls.

But I could see that a little persuasive pampering was in order. "Why don't you relax, darling? I'll get our things unpacked. Is the drink all right?"

"Not bad. Pretty good, as a matter of fact. Fanchon, I'm sorry to be such a dud. I'm just pooped out, I guess. "

"Think nothing of it. Let me take care of my melancholy doll-baby tonight. I'll do everything. You won't have to move a muscle. When I'm through unpacking, I'll run a tub for you. I'll even stay right there and bathe your beautiful body."

"Silly… "

"Uh-huh. That's me. Silly in love. And industrious, too. Come now, I'll help you undress and you can stretch out and sip your drink and watch me work" I undid a few fasteners and began plucking at her clothing.

"Mmm, you're so sweet to me. I like it." She wriggled sinuously, letting me strip the garments away. "I'll bet you've got an ulterior motive, though."

"Who, me?"-wide-eyed, simpering in mock innocence-"an ulterior motive?" I bent swiftly, flicking a pink nipple with the tip of my tongue. "Darling, how ulterior can a motive get?"

"Oooh, don't… "

But her voice quavered coquettishly and my heart was full of love and I knew it was going to be a wonderful night; I just couldn't resist pressing a warm breathed kiss into the priceless jewel of her intriguingly indented navel. Such an adorable little tummy button, so dainty and delicate and "Hey, slow down. Don't you have work to do? Besides, I haven't had my bath yet."

"Dmmm… "

"Fanchon, please!"

This time her tone was peevishly adamant and I had to suppress my amorous inclinations. Yes, there was work to be done, suitcases to be unloaded, clothes to be put away; why dawdle? Oh, I had energy. abounding now: it fizzed and sputtered and gurgled inside me like a choked-off geyser clamoring for release.