Layers(68)

“I do love you,” he whispers to my skin and I rest my head on his shoulder, losing myself in this touch, in him.

Soon as the night wraps us up in its arms and we’re fenced in by a blanket of darkness and the embers of the fire, we make love, and it’s different this time. It’s not our uncontrollable attraction and lust for each other that lead us to pleasure. The physical connection is driven by our pure deep emotions. It is a slow, tender, all-absorbing union  : we are connected on so many levels as we become one.





Chapter 28: Cramps and Revelations


“Good morning,” I whisper, beaming lazily at Daniel, weary; one hazel eye blinks, adjusting to the light.

“Hey.” His voice is heavily gruff.

“What’s the time?” I yawn.

“Who cares,” he murmurs with a drowsy smile, lightly scratching his bare, taut stomach. “Come here, you,” he says, placing his arm open for me to cradle in.

“Ouch, ouch, goodness, ouch,” I cry in agony.

“What’s up?” he sits up at once, alert, though somewhat amused at my whining.

“I’m having the worst post-surf muscle cramps; everything from my shoulders to my butt is stiff and sore.”

“Your butt is stiff and sore?” His eyes shoot down to where the alleged soreness is. “I can take care of that,” he offers, too enthusiastically, smiling with a mischievous twinkle. His hair mimics his intent: it’s wildly messed up, sexy.

“That’s what you managed to hear out of the entire sentence?” I feign a frown but my mouth gives in to curving upwards.

“Now, seriously Hales. What’s the damage? How painful is it?”

“Pretty sore, but I’ll survive, though, in immense pain.”

He chuckles. Checking his watch, contemplative, he then suggests, “It’s half past eleven, let’s just lie back today and then go to dinner at my mom’s.”

“Dinner at your mother’s?”

“Yes.”

Simple answer, an indisputable point. Case closed.

“Didn’t you want to run it by me first?”

“I just did, no?” he responds dryly, rolling his eyes.

Why do I even bother?

“I can rest and you can go surf. That was the purpose of this weekend, wasn’t it?”

“Purpose of the weekend was to have you here, all to myself.”

I grin.

“The surfing is just a perk,” he adds with a wink.

“Come,” he orders, and before I can even try to object he lifts me over his shoulder as though I were a weightless little kid, legs waving in the air.

“What are you doing? Put me down.”

“Hush, baby, I’m not taking any risks when your supreme ass is in subject.”

“Daniel …” I squeak, my voice climbing a few notes up the scale, but he disregards me, completely caught up in his self-entertainment.

“Sit still,” he commands, settling me on the bathroom countertop. “Open your mouth,” he orders, resolute, barely able to mask his smirk.

“Hail commandant,” I murmur.

“Mach schnell, meine liebe Hayley.” He leers at my perplexed expression, and answers my silent question. “My mom is German.”

“And that meant?”

“More quickly, my dear Hayley.” My lips pull up, humored.

He takes his toothbrush, slowly adds toothpaste and then, to my dismay, he starts brushing my teeth.

“Hey,” I mumble with the toothbrush in my mouth. He takes it out, appearing impenitent though his eyes are nothing but playful.

“You were saying?”

I sigh, mouth full of foam.

“I wash sheing …” I spit the excess into the sink under psycho’s smothering, observant gaze. How appealing he must think this is. “I was saying, I can do that. I’m not disabled, just a little sore.”

He arches a scarred brow at me, shaking his head, a hint of a smile toying on his lips. “As I said, no risk where your ass is concerned. Now don’t make me repeat that.”

“Or else,” I tease.

He just rewards me with a cocked head and a skewed smile. I chuckle; it’s my turn to shake my head.

“So hush now, and open wide.” He smirks. “Hush and open wide,” he repeats, murmuring under his breath, enjoying his little joke.

I inwardly sigh, entertained.

“Spit,” he demands playfully after a thorough brush. He pours some water onto his palm and rubs it gently on my face, then pats a towel to it till it dries. Standing back, he examines the results of his work and again, with no prior warning, pulls me up to the same position over his shoulder, making me giggle.




We’re back at the bedroom. Well, what now? His carefree, playful behavior leaves me on the verge of hysterics. Laying me on the bed he turns to the walkthrough closet.

“No moving,” he calls back, and I snort a short laughter. As he returns with the two tiny pieces that are my white, triangle bikini he looks even friskier than he was when he left a moment ago. Bending to the bed he first cautiously takes off my white tank top; then bending further he flutters kisses on my exposed breasts. Settling himself by my side he actually puts my bikini top on me, adjusting the string at the nape, then gently makes me lie sideways to tie the string on my back. Somehow I find all this dress-up arousing. Turning to lie on my back, I stretch my hand toward his boxers. He shakes his head disapprovingly.