God, Danny was a covers hog. Except she couldn't remember him going to sleep after they'd made love again.Hmm. She snuggled deeper under the sheet. Now there was a beautiful thought to savor, the way they'd come together after their discussion on the hammock.
At first she'd been worried he would stomp around, angry at Kent, or push her to talk. Instead he'd just let them both find escape from the roar of emotions through great sex. Awesome sex. Can't-imagine-it-ever-being-that-incredible-again sex.
Wrapped in her memories—if not that darned slippery sheet—Mary Elise mentally listed ways to torment Danny in turn later.
A warm tickle teased along her stomach, whisper thin and … smelling of strawberries?
Her eyes snapped open. Daniel stood over her. Gloriously n**ed and obviously very happy to see her. Sheet in one hand, jar of preserves in the other, he poured a thin stream of the warmed syrup onto her. Warm?
Danny grinned. "Wonders of the microwave."
Oh, my. Anticipation curled within her. Curious as to how far he would take this, she sank back, even arched into the flow.
He drizzled higher up her body, closer, until with perfect aim, he tipped one breast, then the other. Her ni**les tightened under the teasing torment of the heated liquid and Daniel's unrelenting gaze. Her hand drifted up, her body languid.
She swiped a finger through the sugary red thread, traced the hot length of him, tasted.
A growl tore from his throat. Daniel dropped the sheet and straddled her in a clean move. "Good morning."
And it was—for the first time in too long. She tore open a condom with lightning speed and sheathed him. "I sure do like the spin you put on breakfast in bed."
Daniel dipped a finger into the soupy preserves pooled in the hollow of her belly and drew a circle. Then again. Until she tuned in to the pattern of him swirling her initials against her oversensitized skin.
"I may not do romance well, 'Lise, but I do know about thorough, mathematical attention to detail."
"Details. I like your details."
"What else do you like? Maybe I could make a list of all the things I plan to do to you." He continued to write a veritable epistle on her body with bold fingers inking red strokes over her, all of her. "Or maybe you could make a list for me of everything you want, everything you need."
Playfulness lit his eyes, tinged with a deeper intensity, even an agenda of some kind. Just a byproduct of maturity? The old Danny blending with the new? Visions of him pulling the ring out of his pocket earlier edged into her mind with thoughts of the past and future.
The flicker of nerves tickling her stomach had nothing to do with syrup. While she might be finding her footing in regaining her sense of self, there was only so much a person could handle in a few short days.
And at the moment Danny was giving her all she could handle … and more. She'd faced so many life-changing decisions in the past month, she wanted, needed a brief respite of light, simple.
This.
The rest would have to be faced eventually. If nothing else, she'd learned from the past months a person couldn't run forever. Right now she wanted to embrace Danny's playfulness and ignore the niggling questions in his eyes and her nervous belly.
Daniel watched Mary Elise's eyes slide closed, pleasure flushing her skin almost as rosy as the thin sheen of syrup. Victory chugged through him. He wanted her so hot for him she couldn't remember anything or anyone else. He wanted to drive them both into forgetfulness until he evaded the impending sense of doom dogging his steps. Not so much over McRae. That battle he could fight with strategy and logic and tangible defenses.
But he couldn't shake the fear that had gripped him once he acknowledged his feelings for Mary Elise. The risk of losing her multiplied tenfold without any formula or equation for what he could do to keep her.
This freaking intuitive crap was driving him nuts. And the best he could come up with was a damned heated jar of jelly to mark her.
"Well, 'Lise, my list would include everything I find totally hot about you." With dabs of jelly on his fingertip, he stroked, claimed her as his to touch, taste. Love. "But I need you to let me know what you want."
The million-dollar question.
"All of that. I adore it when—" her words jumbled over themselves in nonsensical affirmations "—I really like it when you…"
He filled her.
"Yes." A purr vibrated her chest against his. "When you do that."
He moved again. And again, all the while grappling for self-control, a damned elusive commodity around Mary Elise.
Love wasn't easy and warm like friendship. This gripped him and held him as firmly as her body gliding against his, faster, leaving him no choice but to just move with it, with her, because he'd tried running, only to find she would always be a part of him, anyway.