Pink Neon Dreams (8 page)

“Yeah, totally.”

Cradled
against him, caught in his arms, Cecily let the rhythm of her breath match
his.
 
After another moment or so, she
said, “Daniel?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s
go to bed, okay?”

“To
sleep or fuck?” he asked, voice drowsed.

Cecily
considered the question.
 
“First one, then
the other,” she said after consideration. “I don’t care what order.”

He
laughed, soft and easy. “Sleep first,
querida
.”

In
the small house, the bedroom she used was just a few steps away.
 
Naked, they walked the short distance and
crawled between the plain sheets she’d bought at a discount store.
 
She curled up against him and his arms snaked
around her to hold her tight.
 

They
slept and when she woke once or twice, Cecily stretched out her hand to stroke
him for reassurance it wasn’t a dream.

They
slept long and late.
 
She awakened to an
unfamiliar pattern of sunlight and shadows on the bedroom wall, aroused.
 
As Cecily recalled the chain of events from
the previous night, she realized Daniel stroked her pussy.
 
She inhaled the sexual musk lingering around
them both and stretched out her foot beneath the tangled sheets.
 
Before she could say ‘good morning’, he went
down on her, his breath warm against her soft pubic bush and his lips easy in a
kiss.
 
He plunged his tongue into her
twat and she reacted as the intense lovemaking struck her body with the force
of a tornado.
 
Helpless against his
onslaught, she yielded to the pleasure and surrendered to him.
 
Cecily didn’t try to touch him or give
back.
 
This time, she let him do whatever
he wanted and allowed the sensations to pour over her, sweeter than any wine
she’d ever drank, more delicious than anything she’d eaten.

Sated,
somnolent, she considered going back to sleep, but she caught sight of his
face, his eyes glowing with a different light than she’d seen before.
 
The pain she’d noted before receded into the
background as he watched her with a man’s stare and a new open awareness.
 

Encouraged
and excited, Cecily rolled over and knelt above him.
 
She took his cock into her mouth and
sucked.
 
With her long tongue, she licked
and lapped as if his member were a treat, each stroke as slow and lascivious as
she could make it.
 
Using self-control,
she made the effort last as long as she could, ignoring his grunts of delight
and brought him to full orgasm.

After,
they slept again but woke to shower together in her teensy bathroom.
 
Cecily made coffee and scrambled eggs for
him.
 
She sliced and toasted French bread,
and they ate together at the kitchen table, homey and intimate.
 
For once, she didn’t burden her thoughts with
speculation of what would come next, where they went from here, or attempts to
figure out what happened between then.

Instead,
she dwelled in the moment, tasted the joy, and left it at that.
 
For a few pleasant hours, this equaled her
world and Daniel belonged in it.
 
They
carved out a momentary haven and she gloried in it.
 
Cecily saved it to her heart, like pasting
images in a scrapbook and vowed she’d keep this memory forever, no matter what
came next.

She
ignored the hateful little voice whispering warning in her ear, the dark side
of her personality trained to expect betrayal, to prepare for sadness, the part
still believing Cecily Brown didn’t deserve anything good.

But
like a snail leaving behind a trail, the voices left their mark and even at the
peak of her happiness, Cecily knew it probably wouldn’t last no matter how much
she wanted it to remain.

And,
without reason or restraint, she did.

Chapter Six

With
his hands cupped around a mug of coffee, brewed strong and served black the way
he liked, Daniel watched Cecily scramble eggs and make toast.
 
He couldn’t remember the last time he sat at
leisure in someone’s kitchen, and it’d been longer still since someone made him
breakfast.
 
She’d pulled back her
cornrows and fastened them with a plastic hair clip. Cecily had thrown on a
pair of shorts and a tee-shirt. He admired the way she moved, as graceful as a
dancer, and his loins still radiated contentment from the previous night.

He’d
broken his self-imposed habit of never spending the night in a woman’s bed,
ended his until now unbroken record for leaving after the erotic fact.
 
Shit, he’d even slept without his nightly
booze. Daniel allowed his mind to drift as his body relaxed and an easy sense
of comfort surrounded him. Realization struck like a closed fist.
 
His buoyant mood and uncustomary tranquility
stemmed from being happy.
 
Happiness
hadn’t factored into his life often enough to recognize it at first.

And
the moment he did, Daniel tensed.
 

What in the hell am I doing? I’m
supposed to be investigating her, not sleeping with the woman. I’m breaking
rules, putting my damn career on the line like some love-sick teenage kid. I
should get up, put on my shoes, and get the hell gone before
it’s
too late.

He
put down his coffee and placed his hands against the edge of the table, ready
to shove back the chair to go.
 

“Breakfast
is ready,” Cecily said in a voice sweeter than brown sugar. “Here you go.” She
slid a plate with eggs and buttered toast in front of him and sat down across
the small dinette table from him.
 

If she asks a blessing, I’m out
of here.
 
Cecily didn’t.
 
Instead, she folded a paper napkin into her
lap and secured a fork full of fluffy yellow eggs.
 
Daniel formed a sentence, words to say he
needed to go, but the aroma rising with the steam from his breakfast tempted
him.
 
He ate a bite of eggs and closed
his eyes with total delight.
 
Sweet baby
Jesus, he could taste the real butter she’d used and the light, delicious taste
of eggs.
 
Other than a prefabricated egg
patty tucked into a fast food biscuit or a pair of eggs over easy at some
diner, he hadn’t eaten any in years, although they’d once been a favorite food.
 
These brought delight to his taste buds.
 
When he bit into a piece of toast, he savored
it too. “This is good,” he said.

Cecily
smiled in response, a little Mona Lisa kind of expression.
 
Divorced, widowed, whatever the hell she was,
Daniel doubted she’d had much experience with overnight sleepovers either.
 
He’d almost bet he ranked as the first man
she’d bedded since sprung free from her husband.
 
Caught up in watching the way she parted her
lips to allow the fork to enter, he almost didn’t realize she’d said something,
but he heard the last few words. “…and what were you planning to do today? I
don’t want to keep you from enjoying your vacation.”

“Not
much,” Daniel said.
 
It sounded lame,
though, for a man supposed to be taking some down time.
 
Think
fast, make up something quick.
 
“I
thought I might go swimming or something.”

“Does
your motel have a pool?”

He
snorted. “I wouldn’t dip my toe in the cesspool they’re passing off as a place
to swim,” he said.
 
The murky water
smelled rank and he doubted anyone had cleaned it all season.
 
Trash littered the concrete deck around it.
“There’s a water park here with a wave pool, lazy river, water slides, and the
whole nine yards. I thought about going to it.”

Bullshit. It never entered your
mind until a few seconds ago. I bet Cecily looks hot in a swimsuit, though.
 
He watched her eyes light up, enough to seal
his fate. “I saw it, White Water, I think,” she said. “Looked like fun, but I
didn’t want to go alone.”

Her
broad hint pleased him.
 
Although women
in his life were ancient history, he remembered how they demonstrated interest.
Cecily might as well wave a burning flag in his face.
 
Daniel didn’t try to stop the grin spreading
across his face. “Want to go with me?
 
I’d like the company.”

“I’d
love to,” she cried. Then her glad expression faltered. “Except I don’t think I
have a swimsuit.”

“So
we’ll stop somewhere and you can buy one,” he said, getting caught up in the
spirit of fun.

Cecily
finished the scrap of toast in her hand. “Sure,” she said. “I suppose they have
a place to change at the water park.”

“As
far as I know, yeah, they do.”

“Haven’t
you been?”

“No,
it’ll be a first.”

“Me, too.”

They
exchanged smiles and after they finished their late breakfast, Cecily cleaned
up and they headed out.
 
Uncertain where
in the hell to take a woman to shop, rich or poor, Daniel ended up at one of
the outlet malls.
 
Most of the parking
spaces were filled, so he dropped her off with a promise to circle around till
he gained a slot or she returned.
 
Although he expected her to take an hour and resigned himself to the
wait, Daniel saw her on his third pass, bag in hand.
 
He picked her up. “That was quick.”

She
flashed him a grin as she settled into the passenger seat. “I hate shopping,”
she said. “I’m the kind of gal who grabs what she wants, finds one to fit, and
gets out.
 
Do you have swim trunks?”

Hells
bells, he hadn’t even thought of what he’d wear.
 
Daniel didn’t own any swim trunks, not here
and not at home in his Spartan apartment.
 
He hadn’t been swimming in over ten years or to an amusement park or
inside a movie theater or arcade or visited a mall no more than a few times,
not since Mollie died.
 
Caught short, he
said, “No, I don’t.
 
Shit.”

“Don’t
worry, sugar,” she said as she pulled something red out of her bag. “I figured
you probably didn’t, so I bought you a pair.
 
Hope the size is right, but I think they’ll fit.”

Cecily
held up a pair of shiny trunks and he nodded, speechless.
 
Daniel wasn’t sure if it was the casual
endearment she tossed his way or the thoughtfulness she displayed, but he
swallowed the lump in his throat before he choked.
 
“They look like they should,” he said.
“Thanks.”

“Oh,
no problem,” she said with a little laugh.
 
She stretched out her left hand and rested in
against his thigh.
 
The slight weight of
it brought his dick to life. “I guess we’re ready to go swimming.”

If
she scooted her fingers a few more inches, they wouldn’t be swimming, Daniel
thought but he nodded. “Let’s go.”

At
the water park, he paid their admissions and they wandered through a gift
shop.
 
Cecily picked up some sunscreen
and paid for it before they separated to change into their suits.
 
Daniel skimmed off his clothes and pulled on
the trunks, surprised they fit well.
 
But, she’d had every opportunity to be familiar with his body.
 
When she emerged, her clothes folded into a
neat pile, he resisted the urge to wolf whistle.
 
“You look awesome,” he said.

Her
eyes darkened and her smile widened. “Thanks but you’ve seen it all before,”
she said in a sassy tone.
 
She’d piled up
her braids on top of her head with a clip.
 
In the formfitting green suit, hair up, he thought she looked like a
classic statue—and very beautiful.
 
She
tossed her clothes and his into a rented locker.

Daniel
let his gaze travel from her face down her body with slow deliberation. “Some
things,” he said in his best Texas drawl, “don’t have any limits.
 
What do you want to do first?”

“I
don’t know,” Cecily said. “Wave pool, lazy river, or waterslide?”

If
he didn’t discharge some energy soon, Daniel feared his desire for her might be
evident through the shiny red swim trunks. “Let’s do the waterslide.
 
C’mon.”

He
grasped her hand and took off running, something he hadn’t done except in
pursuit in too damn long.
 
They joined
the queue and climbed the three stories of stairs.
 
Near the top, Cecily peered down with a
frown. “I didn’t know it would be this high,” she said.
 
Her voice quavered a little and he shot a
closer look.
 
Her hands twitched and she
moved with restless agitation.