The next morning she slept in much later than usual. She woke to find Josh leaning on his elbow, looking down at her.
"So," he said, when he saw her eyes flutter open. He started to trace slow, lazy circles on her stomach with a finger. Over his shoulder light and shadows were dancing on the ceiling and the big fan was turning and stirring up a gentle breeze, just as slowly and lazily.
"So," she said back. His eyes looked dark and serious, but his finger was teasing, almost tickling her. She closed her eyes again so she concentrate on the sensation, and not on the look in his eyes.
"So," he said again. "So, so, so. . . ."
"So what, Josh?" she murmured. "Ooo, that feels so good. . . ."
"So," he said, bending over so she could feel his breath warm on her face. He opened his hand and began to stroke her gently with the whole of it, working slowly downwards.
"Articulate, aren't we, this morning?"
"Always," he said, and she could hear a little laugh in his voice now, and opened her eyes to see them smiling down at her warmly.
"Your staff might not agree with you."
"Do you really want them to?" He brought his mouth down to join his hand, which was creeping down into places that made it hard for her to go on speaking.
"No. Oh, no. Oh—"
"It can be our little secret, then."
"So—it can. So—oh—oh—"
Josh lifted his head for a moment.
"Articulate this morning, aren't we?" he murmured, the laugh in his voice unmistakable now.
Donna didn't bother answering him. She didn't want him wasting any more time talking—at least, not right then.
It was another beautiful morning, another perfect day.
