her again, and was still capable of doing anything about it. But she let her silky lips drift across his stomach down his thighs, and then back up between his legs until they found what they were looking for and he craved, and this time he came in her mouth with a shuddering furor.
“Oh God …Daphne …you're going to kill me …” he murmured happily, “…but what a way to die….” He took her in his arms and held her there, unable to believe his good fortune. They had waited months for this, and he hadn't wanted to come to her until he was free of Alex. But now he knew that he was, he had to be. There was no other woman he wanted in the world now, except Daphne.
“I love you,” he whispered as she drifted off to sleep in his arms again, with her back to him, and her perfectly round bottom pressed against him, but this time, he was truly sated.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, smiling. He had been well worth waiting for. She had always known he would be. He cupped her breasts with his hands then, and thought of how lucky he was, and he drifted off to sleep with her, trying not to let himself think of Alex.
Chapter 14
If nothing else, out of sheer politeness, Sam called Alex late Friday afternoon and told her he wouldn't be home for the rest of the weekend. He didn't say where he was and she didn't ask any questions. He said he'd call her and check in, and then he spoke to Annabelle and said he'd miss her. He wondered if Alex knew where he was, or why, but he didn't let himself think of it. After that, he and Daphne went to Bloomingdale's and he bought half a dozen shirts, some jeans, corduroy pants, a jacket, socks, some underwear, and a sweater. And then they went to the drugstore and bought a razor and all the toiletries he needed. He didn't want to go home just yet, he didn't want to see them. He wanted to be completely alone with Daphne.
He cooked dinner for Daphne that night, and she pretended to help him, but she insisted on wandering in and out of the kitchen stark naked. And in the end, he almost burned their dinner. They left it in the microwave and went to bed. And at midnight, she made him an omelet. But most of their time was spent exploring each other's bodies, and preferences. They talked long into the night and he made popcorn and they watched old movies, but they kept missing the essential parts of the plot when he made love to her again, and they kept coming back just as the film was ending.
They spent another extraordinary night in each other's arms, and by Saturday morning it was as though they had always been lovers. He knew he wanted to stay with her, and spend the rest of his life with her. All he had to do now was deal with Alex.
“What do you want to do today?” he asked as they stretched lazily, and the prospect of making love all day crossed his mind again, but he thought they should at least make an effort to do something.
“Can you ice skate?” Daphne asked, looking like a child as she sat up in bed next to him, but a very well-endowed one.
“I was on the hockey team at Harvard,” he said proudly.
“Shall we do that?”
It was like starting life all over again. She was so young and so alive. She had no responsibilities and no burdens. They went to Wollman Memorial in Central Park, and he found that she was a very good skater. They danced, and spun around, and did loops around each other. She did very pretty camel spins, and he was impressed. And then he took her to lunch at Tavern-on-the-Green, but by two o'clock they were back in bed again, feeling as though they had been separated forever.
“What are we going to do about work?” he asked as they lay side by side after making love for the second time at four-thirty. “I'm not sure I can stay away from you long enough to get up and go to the office.” Not to mention the fact that he had told Alex that he would live at home for the next two months and talk about their relationship again in January after Annabelle's birthday. That