no way cooled down, I am getting back a measure of control. Danny's hands grip my biceps and she flexes her fingertips inward as we kiss. I can't wait for the day when those fingertips will dig into my ass as I'm making love to her, but that day is not going to be today. I do want to take this slow for her. I have no idea what her level of experience is, and frankly, I don't care. I want for both of us to come together when the timing is perfect, and with our relationship so new, today is not that day.
I pull my mouth away and she whimpers, putting her hands around my head and trying to drag me back down.
"Danny, you're not making this easy," I grumble.
She gives me that husky laugh. "Who says I want to."
Oh, God...I'm a goner if I don't put some distance between us. I have never gotten so worked up over a girl so quickly. I press a quick kiss to her lips and stand up from the coach. She has disappointment written all over her face.
"Danny...I want nothing more than to have sex with you right now..."
"But..." she prompts.
"...but, I want this to be special. I want you to know that I'm willing to wait until it's right. I want it to be perfect for you."
She stands up from the couch and has such a hauntingly beautiful smile on her face. Her dimples slightly wink at me. She steps into my body, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her cheek against my chest. My arms go around her and I squeeze. After placing a kiss to the top of her head, I rest my chin there.
Glancing around her living room, I see several pictures on the end table. One is of a man in a police uniform who I assume to be her dad. I pull out of her embrace and walk up to the assembly of photos.
Danny comes to stand beside me. Bending over, she picks up the one I was looking at. "This is my dad, Clayton Cross. This was taken a few years before he got fired."
I look at the picture. I can see she inherited his dimples as he flashes a toothy grin at the camera.
She puts that picture down and picks up another. This is of a gorgeous woman in her forties and there is no doubt she's Danny's mother. They look like sisters.
I take the picture from her to look at it more closely. The resemblance is uncanny. "There's no mistaken where you get your looks from."
She gives a light laugh. She takes the picture back, gently rubbing her fingertip over it. "That's what everyone says. Her name was Rosalyn."
I jolt in stunned disbelief. "Was?"
I just assumed Danny's mother was alive. Why, I don't know. Maybe because she had told me her dad was dead, but never mentioned her mother. I just assumed wrong.
"She died almost two years ago. Glioblastoma multiforme. It's a very aggressive and usually fatal type of brain cancer."
I don't know what to say. Her words are filled with sadness but she is not painfully grieving. If anything, she is speaking with such a fondness for her mother that I ache for her to speak of me that way.
She puts her mom's picture down and picks up another that I had not noticed. It's of Danny. She's wearing a long black gown that is fitted to her body. It has short sleeves and a very demure neckline that gives no hint of the cleavage below. Danny's hair is a bit shorter, just at her shoulders, and it is streaked with red and black color. She has the nose ring and eyebrow piercing and in all other ways looks the same. It couldn't have been taken that long ago.
I take all of that in but it is not what is most interesting about the picture. What catches my eye and holds it is the fact that Danny is holding a violin in one hand and its bow in the other.
She plays the violin and I'm astounded.
I look over at her and she's enjoying the look of shock on my face. "That was taken my first year at Julliard."
My mouth falls open in astonishment and I look back at the picture. "You were just as beautiful then, but I think I'm partial to the purple hair," I murmur.
Her laugh washes over me and she takes the picture back and sets it