A.N. some words in this tale are being borrowed.. no infringement is meant.
He was laying on the sofa clad in his navy blue silk boxers and light blue t-shirt, the one she said made his eyes appear more blue, if that was even possible.
They had spent the day relaxing at the beach getting some much needed rest. He had showered before they ate dinner and had cleaned up the mess they had made cooking ,while she took a leisurely bubble bath. He was trying to let her enjoy her alone time, but his patience was almost at the breaking point when she finally made her way down the stairs.
She was wearing the same silk boxers as him, her top covered by a pale blue camisole. Her wet hair was hanging loose, the disorderly tendrils curling down over her back and chest. Her top was dampened by her hair making it almost see thru. Her boxers were sitting low on her hips exposing the tan line left by her bikini.
The sight of her in the boxers brought a smile to his face.
He remembered the day he had given her the carefully wrapped box containing her very own assortment of matching boxers. The way she had ripped thru the paper squealing with glee as she saw what was inside.
He thought back to her comment that it should be a crime that men's clothes should be so soft, almost softer than any women's clothes that she owned.
Even though the sight of her wearing his boxers was a huge turn-on, it prompted him to make the outlandish purchase.
Besides, he secretly loved the idea of them wearing matching outfits.
She was oblivious to his stare as she made her way into the kitchen, busy trying to run her brush thru the mass of tangles in her hair.
The ideas this woman could inspire without even trying.
She returned with two glasses and a bottle of wine, the brush tucked under her arm. She poured them each a glass, handing him his, she set her glass down on the table after taking a long sip. Licking her lips she sat down on the floor in front of him.
She reached back and handed him the brush, letting him take over the job of trying to wrestle the curls loose.
Leaning forward she rested her arms on her knees moaning at each sweep of the brush through the tangles, the bristles scratching over her scalp.
After finally getting some semblance of control over the curls, he gathered her hair and worked it into a loose braid.
He bent down and kissed her neck, breathing in the subtle scent of cherries that lingered on her skin. Sliding his hands under her arms he pulled her up to lay next to him on the sofa. His arms holding her close, their legs tangled together.
Reaching up over the back of the sofa he picked up the book they had begun reading the evening before.
Clearing his throat he began to read, her eyes closing, letting his voice carry her away.
" Once upon a time there was a beautiful detective and a ruggedly handsome writer." he began.
" Castle".she warned.
" Hey, I'm just reading the words in front of me" he said. "Ouch, hey that hurt,Kate" he exclaimed rubbing his ear.
"Fine" he said."Have it your way"
He began again, feeling the smile covering her face.
"It was always the same for her when she arrived to meet the body."...