Page 92 of A Dream for Daphne

He was sucking on her tender bud and she shouted out his name.

The speed at which her orgasm hit surprised even her.

“Oh my God, don’t stop!”

She didn’t need to tell him. He wouldn’t stop until he was ready.

But a minute later her body had halted with its tremors, yet he was still going at it.

“Abe,” she said. “You can stop now.”

He sat back on his heels and dropped her legs down. “You told me not to. I listen to orders.”

She tried to smile, but she was too damn tired to do it. “Not always,” she said.

“I do it when it matters,” he said. “Sit tight, I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

Her eyes landed on him standing up. “To get a towel to clean up.”

It was then she realized that she was soaking wet and getting it all over the furniture.

Furniture that she didn’t own.

She jumped up fast, mortified over what she’d just done.

“Give me that,” she said when he returned with paper towels and the cleaner. “I’ve got it.”

“Nope,” he said. “My mess, I’ll clean it.”

“It’s my mess,” she said.

He laughed. “Sweetheart, you could have never gotten that without me. So yeah, my mess.”

She wanted to dispute it but realized he was right.

There was nothing about her relationship with Abe that she’d ever had with another person.

And when jealousy and feelings of lesser self-worth jumped into her head, she had to remember that she got the guy.

31

KNOWS ME SO WELL

“This is a nice spot,” Abe said when he pulled into Aster’s driveway a week later. There was a small house with a massive barn next to it. He could see the water past the house.

“It’s Zane’s house. He uses the barn for storage still, but normally just rents the house out. One of the women who works at Blossoms, Heather, her husband, Luke, lived here for a year too. He served with Zane just like Aster did. So they’ve both lived here.”

“That’s nice. Good rental income. I need to start thinking like that about things. I’ve got a good business and feel secure, but I know anything can happen in life and the world. I should have more than one source of income.”

“Do you want to be a landlord?” she asked.

He shrugged. “My father talked about trying to buy some multi-family homes and renting them out. But then he died. I should have continued with that thought but...you know, life took over.”

Then here they were years later and the housing market was much higher and he probably lost his chance.

“It happens,” she said. “It’s never too late to do things if you want. I’d think you wouldn’t have time to be a landlord. I don’t picture you as the type to want to be running around fixing things, but you wouldn’t want to pay someone to do it if you could. That is Aster. Kind of me too though I can’t fix all that much.”

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