Chapter X: Candles, Wine, and Strawberries
The tension was so thick Monday night that it could be cut with a knife. The "idiot triplets," so named with the addition of Maria and spurred by the diva contestant song, stayed out of the other half of the lockerroom's way. For the most part, they couldn't be found by the women wrestlers but were, of course, easily found by the crew. Lita and Trish were grateful to have a third competent woman to work with as the two of them and Cheryl worked through their spots for the night. Lita was getting her rematch against Trish for the belt because of the disqualification. Cherry Leigh was still out to get Trish with a vengeance for attacking her and the redhead would be interfering again, this time to ensure a win for Lita.
The next evening, the daughter of Cheryl's next door neighbor picked her and Dave up at the airport. Cheryl paid the teenager for picking her up and dropping her off and for watching over the house when the girl was available. The sun-bleached blonde couldn't take her eyes off the handsome dark-haired man and Cheryl wondered how long it would take for the gossip to spread.
Aimee dropped them off and immediately tried to help Dave with his luggage. Cheryl nodded at him to let the sixteen-year-old do it. She remembered when she was once that age. However, she then had to practically kick the girl out the door. After a quick tour of the house, Cheryl showed Dave into the guest room she asked Aimee to freshen up. He glanced around the dusky blue room, decorated with a lighthouse and beach motif. "It was my room when I stayed with my grandparents." She paused for a moment. "The other guest room was mine an-and Pierce's. The studio is my room now. It was my—"
"Shh," he replied, putting a finger to her lips and giving her a kiss. "I don't care," he half-lied but not willing to tell her that he was curious to know if she still slept in the same bed that she had shared with her husband.
Cheryl smiled at him and then asked, "Do you wanna get a shower before we go out and find supper? There's nothing in the refrigerator. We'll have to pick up some groceries for the next few days." When he nodded, she closed the bedroom door behind her to give him some privacy and then she headed back downstairs to check her messages before cleaning up herself.
After throwing his luggage on the bed, Dave started to strip when his cell phone rang. "What?" he answered.
"What did she have to say?"
"Edge," he replied in an annoyed tone. "I don't like you and I don't particularly care for you dating any of my friends but, yeah, I think Leila likes you."
"Dude, you are so awesome," Edge responded.
"Dude," Batista mocked. "Piss off."
"I'll leave you alone if you'll give me her number."
"Ask her yourself."
"You know," Edge replied, as if pondering a great mystery. "I just realized that I never got an apology from you."
"And you're never going to," Batista replied as if he had found the answer to that great mystery.
"And I'm gonna hound you until—"
Dave's laughing interrupted him. "You're just too scared to ask Leila yourself."
"I promise to leave you alone if you'll just give me her number," Edge pleaded.
"Hold on," Batista replied and rifled through his bags until he found his appointment book that had his addresses and phone numbers. Spying Leila's, he read it off to the other wrestler and hung up without another word. A cooling shower was definitely what he needed now.
Cheryl was still bathing when Dave finished and he wondered back downstairs and through the central hall to study the paintings he had noticed during the quick tour, each one signed 'CIL' or 'CLE'. Taking a turn through the kitchen and dining room, he perused the ones in those rooms and then the ones on the stairs. All seemed to be different parts of the island and her grandparents' summer home in the various seasons. He was almost positive they were done by Cheryl, only recently learning her middle name was Inez. "Did you paint all of these?" he asked from the middle landing of the stairs as a way to prod her to tell him about them when he heard her come out into upstairs hall.
"Yeah," she called down, coming back to the balustrade in her robe and running her fingers through her short strands of hair so they would begin to dry. "There are more in the guest room and my room, if-if you want to see them, that is."
She disappeared back into her room and handed him a photo album. "I've been painting for about seven years. I didn't really start until after I graduated. I take a picture of each one I do before I give it away or hang it up. Helps me keep up with what I've done and when I did it. My first ones are in the front and the last ones I've done are in the back," she pointed out as they headed towards her room.
Dave stood before the two that were in studio. One was completed and set in the corner on an easel, waiting for a frame. The other was half-completed beside a table of supplies. These canvases held bright colors with several anonymous people and one was a fall depiction. She quietly emerged from her walk-in closet, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, surprising him as he studied the oils. When he asked about them, she only pointed out that fall was her favorite season and how much she loved Maine during that time.
She disappeared into her bathroom and left him in her studio to peruse the album. As he flipped through the pages, Dave started to notice a pattern. Many people were in the paintings she had done before she had married but there was only a couple depicted in spring scenes after she married. Then they drastically changed after Pierce died. If there was anyone in them, it was a lone person in bleak scenes of winter or storms. Now, the paintings were changing again.
Dave glanced up at her as she moved out onto the studio's balcony, carrying a painted pitcher. After Cheryl watered the callalily she had taken outside to repot last week, she perched on the edge of a lounge chair to watch the waves roll in under brilliant stars. She could smell his aftershave as he softly came up behind her and began to massage her shoulders. When he finally stopped, he came around to stand in front of her and fingered the callalily on the railing. "I'm sort of a gardener," he said in a self-deprecating tone and leaned on the balustrade.
"You make it sound like it's a bad thing."
"I'm a guy, a big…scary guy who plays in the dirt…and I can't get any flowers to grow."
Cheryl wasn't going to lie to him. He had a point in her opinion. She closed her eyes to inhale the salt sea and enjoy the gently rolling waves but opened them when she felt his gaze still on her. "What?" she asked.
"Nothing."
She blushed and said the first thing that came to mind. "Why do you think you can't grow anything?"
"It's not that I can't grow anything. I just can't grow flowers. If it's green and doesn't bloom, I can do it. Even if it's almost dead, I can bring it back to life." Dave slightly laughed and then continued. "When I first moved into my neighborhood, I had some of the guys over as way of introducing myself and, when they found out I had apartment flower boxes to grow herbs and vines and what not, they made fun of me. They said they weren't laughing at me but I knew better."
"Wait, are they bigger than you? Because if they ain't, they're stupid."
"Well, they didn't laugh but I could tell it in the tone of their voices," Dave said, then chuckled. "You should have seen the look on these guys' faces when I invited them and their wives over and gave everybody a big basket of vines or callalilies to take home. Their wives loved it and I still get the occasional call about the plants."
"You sly devil, you," she said, winking at him.
"I'm not as stupid as I look," he replied with a facetious grin and settled down beside her on the chaise lounge.
Dave began to run his fingers across her cheek, down her neck, and then traced her collarbone. Cheryl took in a deep breath and her grip tightened on his arm as his tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat. He raised his head to find her mouth and she could see the sensual haze beginning to fill his eyes. "We need to get some supper. I'm starving," she said, slipping away from him. She was still so nervous about sleeping with him and wanted the moment to be perfect—candles, wine, strawberries… She regretted the disappointment on his face but headed back through the studio and down the stairs.
Cheryl took Dave to one of the local, homegrown seafood restaurants. As much as they enjoyed the meal at the time, they wished differently as they slogged down the grocery store aisles to pick up food for the next few days since Cheryl rarely stocked her refrigerator with more than the few things she would need for the little time she was home. The day had been long and the meal more than filling, so they hardly attempted to hide how tired they were when both starting yawning over and over during a TV movie they had found. Dave kissed her 'goodnight' at her door but she couldn't go to bed yet despite the sleepiness. She stood on her balcony, leaning up against one posts, and absorbed the peaceful scent and sound of home. When her eyes would no longer stay open, she peeked down the hall to see Dave's light off and then crawled into bed herself.
A choked scream ripped from Cheryl's throat when a heavy weight bounced on her bed. "What are we doing today, pum'kin?" a grinning Dave asked as she shielded her eyes from the morning light.
"Don't scare me like that," she said, struggling up, and then muttered, "I need a cat."
"What for?"
"So I can blame everything on the cat instead of getting the crap scared out of me. I can't recall the last time someone woke me up like that."
"Sorry," he replied. "I'll try something more…quieter…" He tried to steal a kiss but she scrambled off the bed and into the bedroom for a toothbrush. He may not have had morning breath but she wasn't as stupid to think that she didn't.
"I guess I can show you around the island," Cheryl called from the bathroom. "You'll have to come back after Thanksgiving when the place is decorated." Running a brush through her hair, she came back into the bedroom to notice that Dave was already dressed for the day. "Unless you don't object to this," she said, picking at her oversized UNC t-shirt, "I need to get dressed."
"Sorry, I couldn't sleep once the sun came up. Do you want me to let you go back to the bed?" he asked, apologetically.
"No, let me get ready and we'll be off."
The two spent most of the day in Cheryl's favorite spots on the island and a few shops. Dave was adorable as he attempted to explain that he wanted to take his parents, sister, and niece something back from Hilton Head the next time he went home. The sun was close to setting when they finally arrived back at the house.
Cheryl insisted on a walk on the beach and they clasped hands as they strolled across the white sand, the two soaking up the pink and orange rays turning to a purple and then black sky as thick rain clouds began to drift in. Little was spoken between them as the sexual tension began to rise simply from touching palms and the change of weather. When she shut the beach house door behind them and locked it, Dave pushed her up against the wall and began devouring her mouth, his hands wondering over her body.
The candles and wine briefly flitted across her mind as he pulled back to look at her. "This okay?" he huskily asked. She hungrily nodded and he pulled her to him. Just when she thought her knees would buckle from sheer pleasure, he scooped her up into his arms.
"I have wine in the frig," she muttered against his lips and he backed up to let her pull it out. She shut the door and he started for the stairs again. "Oh, and strawberries, too," she added and he headed back to the refrigerator.
"Mmm, tasty, but I'd like some cherries," he responded when she popped one in his mouth. She throatily laughed at his suggestion.
Halfway to the stairs, her arms filled with the red fruit and a chilled bottle and his arms filled with her, she stopped him again. "We need glasses."
Dave exhaled loudly without meaning too but he could care less about wine and strawberries at the moment. Shifting his grip on her, he started back for the kitchen. "You know what, screw it," she said, starting to feel the same way, and shoved the items onto the first part of the countertop they came to. I'm trying to, Dave thought. After that, he wasted no time in attempting to get upstairs to her bedroom.
On the landing, her long legs caught the balustrade and they giggled against each other but straightened up with one kiss. However, while navigating the turn at the top of the stairs fairly well, he smacked his shoulder on the bedroom door frame. "I can walk," she laughed.
"We're already here," he replied and echoed her laugh but stumbled over a shoe, sending them toppling onto the bed.
"Is this a sign?" Cheryl snickered.
"God, I hope not," Dave chuckled and they both collapsed into a fit of giggles.
A gust of wind flinging rain against the balcony doors startled them and they were quickly aware of their need again, which had only been put off for the moment by the humor of the situation. Cheryl couldn't stop the moan his hot mouth elicited as his tongue found the hollow in her throat. Dave then began to undo each of her buttons, kissing her lips and then her neck, until he exposed her satin bra. He wanted to make this as easy for her as he could by going slow but the control he had exercised over the weeks abruptly came to a halt. He pulled her to him in a deep kiss that left her breathless and she began to sense his urgency.
Cheryl helped him pull his shirt off and ran her hands over every inch of his uncovered body while he deftly unclasped her bra. She couldn't get enough of his hard chest until his hands found her breasts and all else was forgotten. She could only hold on for dear life to the blanket in fistfuls as his mouth and hands on her breasts turned her into a quivering mass. When Dave moved to undo her jeans, she let out the breath she had been holding and raised her hips for him to slide them off. She rose from the bed and tugged at his own jeans. When they were a distant memory, the two knelt in front of each other, flesh on flesh raising goosebumps and his need pressing into her lower belly.
Dave laid her down on the pillows and trailed his hand down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, all the while his mouth on hers. She gasped as his fingers found her ready and he grinned a sexy smile. "Do I need to get something?" he whispered.
"No, it's all taken care of," she replied through clenched teeth as his hand continued to play between her thighs.
Nothing had prepared her for this, for him, as he slid inside her. She wrapped her legs around him and shifted to allow him to go deeper. He moaned as she opened up to receive all of him. She didn't realize how much she had missed sex as their hips came together over and over in a rhythm that naturally came back to her. He finally cried out and collapsed on top of her as the waves of pleasure began to ripple from her center to her fingertips and toes. Both lay together, gulping for air while their bodies soaked up the intense pleasure of the aftermath and their tingling nerves began to settle down.
When Cheryl thought Dave had drifted off to sleep, she disentangled her bodyfrom his, wrapped a blanket around herself, and slipped out on the balcony, listening to the last drops of rain on the roof. The dark-haired man watched her out of the slit of one eye until she shut the door behind her. He had known that there were three people in the room when she wouldn't relax against him in the aftermath. He had tried to soothe her with soft strokes across her stomach and hips. Pretending to sleep, he then thought she might settle against him but it was then that she had slipped out of bed. Tomorrow they would talk because he couldn't compete with a dead man.
TBC…
Author's Notes:
A special thanks to all my readers andto my reviewers: RKOThug21, Latisha C, huntersgirl, Insane Zula, shannfan14, Kora Flair, kiss316, WandaXmaximoff, LeelooJinn, coors 1977, lucyzigg, LovinRKO, Shiyu-Inuyahsa, J3r1ch0h0lic4eva, shady-angel821, Moi, SexySuitcase, cassy7, and Zanna Avons.