Betty was lost; hopelessly adrift on a sea of desire. Only moments before Daniel Meade--her friend, her boss--had confessed his love for her and then…he'd kissed her! It was a wanton, almost desperate kiss; she was amazed at his ability to express all of the want and need that had been building inside him in a single gesture. When Betty thought that she would surely run out of breath Daniel pulled away. He looked deeply into her eyes and placed a trembling hand on her cheek.

"It's fine," he had said. "That told me everything I needed to know." Although Betty had not been entirely sure what feelings her response to his kiss might have conveyed Daniel must have known because now he was on top of her.

Daniel kissed Betty passionately, feverishly, reluctant to let her go. His hands roamed over her body frantically trying to memorize the contours of her body in case this was the last time his fingers would be allowed to trace them. A skillful lover, Daniel's hands seemed to be everywhere at once--tangled in the soft cascades of her rich chestnut brown hair, caressing the flawless skin of her youthful face, running over her narrow shoulders, and finally coming to rest on the gentle curve of her waist. Suddenly Daniel drew back, but only to nibble on the supple flesh of her earlobe and blaze a trail of eager kisses down the soft contour of her jaw. Betty seemed helpless against this passionate assault. She moaned in pleasure letting her head fall back against the arm of the sofa granting Daniel better access to the sensitive hollow that lay at the nape of her neck. Betty ran her hands through Daniel's hair languidly as his mouth continued its triumphal march down her body, but then, abruptly, he stopped.

"What's wrong?" Betty asked breathlessly.

Daniel took Betty's face in his hands and tenderly placed his forehead against hers. "Betty…" he said in between gasps, "are you sure…this is what you want? Because…if we keep this up…I won't be able to stop."

Betty had been too enmeshed in pleasure to think seriously about what was happening. She was grateful that Daniel still had enough self-control to ask before they did something they might both regret later. But ultimately, Betty didn't care; she didn't want to think of the potentially dangerous repercussions of what they were about to do. She felt happy, she felt wanted, and moreover, it was Daniel Meade who wanted her…badly.

"Yes," she sighed, "This is what I want. Please, Daniel…"

Without hesitation Daniel resumed his passionate onslaught. Deftly, he removed her simple black bra and was now setting off tiny, little explosions all across her breasts.

"Say it," he demanded in a voice barely above a whisper, but still heavy with desire, "Tell me what you want."

Betty might have been embarrassed were she not so completely lost in sensation; Walter had never asked her what she wanted, let alone to spell it out for him."

"I want you to make love to me," she conceded.

Bingo! It was all Daniel had needed to hear. In a flash he lifted her to her feet and guided her to his bedroom--never breaking the kiss. Delicately, he eased Betty onto the bed and lay on top of her, careful to distribute his weight evenly. Eager to pick up where he had left off Daniel tried desperately to undo the remaining buttons of Betty's blouse but found the task impossible due to the degree at which his hands were shaking. He could not remember the last time he had wanted a woman this badly. Unable to bear the physical pain and mental anguish of being denied her flesh for much longer, Daniel ripped the garment open sending buttons pell-nell across the room.

Betty gasped, "Daniel!"

"I'll buy you a new one," he said, "I'll buy you an entirely new wardrobe, whatever you want!"

Betty couldn't help but laugh. Daniel looked up. "Are you laughing at me Betty Suarez," he asked feigning hurt.

"No, Daniel. I'm laughing with you."

They burst into laughter. It was the first respite they had taken from their passionate kissing and adolescent groping; a moment that was intimate in an entirely different kind of way. A moment of silence passed between them.

"Daniel," Betty said finally, "I think we should wait. Everything's moving so fast."

Tracing a lazy circle on her bare stomach Daniel sighed, "I had a feeling you might say that."

"I'm sorry. Are you angry?"

"Of course not," he said sincerely, "You're absolutely right. I want to take things slow with you. I don't want to mess this up." They were quiet for a moment. "But will you at least sleep with me?"

"Daniel. I just-"

"No, I mean sleep with me. We don't have to do anything. I just want to feel your body next to mine."

Still Betty continued her protestations, "I really don't think that's such a-"

"Please," he implored, "It might help me sleep better."

He was giving her "the look." A look he had crafted over time; a look that he was only able to conjure after meditating on his near-loveless childhood, wasted adolescence, and tumultuous adulthood. A look that alluded to the hurt he had suffered at the rejection of Sofia Reyes and the pain of having seen his brother Alex both buried and resurrected from the grave. It was a look that Betty, nor any other woman, could refuse.

"Fine," she relented, "But just sleeping."

"Just sleeping," he repeated. He smiled victoriously. "I'll, ugh, be right back," he said. "I just need to go…take care of something."

As Daniel disappeared into the bathroom Betty stripped to her undergarments and climbed beneath the plush linens. When Daniel returned he was completely and utterly naked.

Betty shielded her eyes, "Daniel! Where are your pajamas?"

He grinned fiendishly, "Do I look like the kind of man who sleeps in pajamas?"

Betty suppressed a laugh as Daniel crawled into bed beside her. Snuggling close Daniel wrapped his arms contentedly around Betty.

"You're so soft," he murmured, "like the teddy bear I never had." She chuckled again and he nuzzled his face into the velvety-smooth valley between her breasts.

"Goodnight Daniel," she whispered before yielding to the gentle beckoning of sleep.

"Goodnight Betty," he said and for the first time in weeks Daniel Meade, full-time devoted lover, part time insomniac, fell soundly asleep.