“What, am I in trouble?” she joked, a little confused by his intensity.
“No. You’ve been very good. Exceptionally so,” he said, turning to shift his covered plate and the ice bucket over to the side table. He swiftly did the same with the silver and glassware. Then he was reaching for her and lifting her onto the table.
“What are you doing?” she asked him in amazement when he pulled up his chair and sat again.
“Spread your thighs,” he demanded shortly. She opened her legs and he scooted his chair between her parted knees. She yelped when he put his hands on her hips and jerked her closer, her pussy zipping to the edge of the table.
“I drank,” he said, lowering his head between her thighs. He used his thumbs to spread her labia. She saw his small, grim smile. “You ate. Now it’s time for my meal.”
THEY finally actually did eat the meals Marie had prepared them. Alice remained sitting on the table in front of him, naked and flushed from multiple climaxes. She held the plate in her lap and fed him succulent bites of food from her fork, serving herself every other bite and laughing when she occasionally spilled grains of rice onto her stomach or his thighs. They talked about trivial things, and she teased him mercilessly.
“It’s a lot easier than I thought it’d be,” she said spontaneously a while later when they moved on to the delicious birthday cake.
“What?” Dylan asked, taking a bite from the fork she extended.
“Loving you.”
He paused in chewing, his eyes flashing as he looked up at her. Still holding her stare, he took the plate from her lap and set it aside.
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“What?” she asked, breathless, because she recognized that gleam in his eyes. He stood and lifted her off the table.
“Be such a smart-ass one second, and so sweet the next.”
She smiled. He’d told her that before.
“I don’t want to be predictable.”
His dark eyes glistened from amusement and candlelight. “Heaven forbid.”
At his urging, they covered the cake and blew out the candles, but left everything else behind. He led her to his bedroom, where he told her to lie down on the bed. She stared up at him, enraptured, a moment later as he came over and entered her.
“Was it a happy birthday?” he asked, his muscles bulging as he held himself off her and his cock throbbed deep inside her.
“The happiest day I’ve ever had.”
“Alice,” he rasped.
He began to move. The truth of what she’d said filled and overwhelmed her.
It frightened her a little, too.
FIFTEEN
The next morning, Dylan awoke alone. He rose and donned some pants, concerned but not as alarmed as he’d been in the past to realize Alice was in the house alone, a potential victim to memories tha
t didn’t feel like her own.
This morning, he had a feeling he knew where he’d find her. When he reached the top steps that led to the back veranda, he heard the telltale squeak of the porch swing. Relieved, he opened the door.
She rocked on the big old swing, one bare foot on the floor propelling her, the other bent and resting on the swing. On top of her thigh rested a plate of cake. She smiled around the fork she’d just inserted into her mouth when she saw him approaching.
“I woke up thinking about this cake,” she said, chewing.
He sat down next to her, his hands at the edge of the swing, and regarded her closely. Alice with the fire of defiance in her eyes was always a fierce trial on his patience and senses. But Alice’s eyes sparkling with happiness as she relished a long overdue birthday cake left him lung-locked and mute for a moment.
Her brow crinkled. “Do you want some?” she asked, waving in the direction of the cake. She’d misunderstood his intent expression as he’d witnessed her glowing happiness. She started to get up, as if to get him some cake.