Sinners, Chapter 3

The purplish orange hues of dawn trickled into the room as Perry Mason finally allowed his own satisfaction to burst forth. Breathless and spent, he collapsed into Della Street's mink clad arms, more content than he'd ever been. With the last of his waning strength, he rolled onto his back and laid his hand on her exposed thigh because he had to be touching her. The pair lay together, eyes closed, with only the sounds of their heavy breaths shattering the morning stillness.

Perry turned his head toward her, squeezed her thigh and smiled weakly. "Are you…mad," he asked softly?

"How on earth could I be mad after THAT," she replied, causing him to chuckle?

He took a satisfied breath and turned on his side, propping his head on his elbow to gaze at the love of his life and let his other hand wander over her silky skin. "We never did make it to the bed," he said triumphantly.

It was her turn to give a throaty chuckle and a demure look as she turned into his embrace and touched his cheek. "Worth it, Counselor."

He kissed her lips softly and slid his arm inside the coat to pull her closer. "Mmm, that's my girl," he moaned nuzzling her hair, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence as they drifted into a much needed and well deserved slumber.

Fresh from the shower, Perry stood shirtless at the stove, whistling as he made brunch for the two of them. He was plating up the eggs just as Della entered the room, her scent reaching him before she did.

Her arms slipped around his waist and she kissed his back. "Something smells yummy Counselor."

"French toast, bacon and scrambled eggs with smoked gouda. I made the coffee already. Mine is never as good as yours, but it'll do." He turned and dropped a kiss on her forehead as he picked up the plates. "Bring the coffee please so we can feast. I'm famished and from the sounds your stomach was making earlier, so are you."

"Guilty as charged," she replied happily, grabbing the cups and the percolator to follow him to the table.

He sat the plates on the table as she poured the coffee in their cups. "You know, Counselor, I can't possibly wear that exquisite coat," she said, focusing on her task and not on how sexy he looked at that moment. Having air dried, there were even more curls to his luxurious black hair, and bare-chested, he was nothing short of deliciously tempting. My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not. (Proverbs 1:10) WHEW! Della's face flushed and she bit her lower lip, wishing she had a free hand with which to fan herself or to give into temptation.

Perry noticed her flushed skin and felt the stirrings of desire within him, so much so that her words barely registered in his brain. Reaching out, he pulled her down into his lap as he sat down. He took the coffee pot, sat it on the table and wrapped his arms around her waist. "My dear, precious Miss Street," he said softly, using those baby blues to pull her into his gaze, "I know that you probably WON'T wear it, but you CAN wear it if you WANT." She started to speak and he pressed a finger to her lips. "Words have meaning Della."

"That's Perry Mason the lawyer talking."

He chuckled, "I suppose it is, but that doesn't make it less true Miss Street. Whether you CHOOSE to wear it out of this apartment is irrelevant, incompetent and immaterial."

They shared a mutual grin at that statement and he leaned in to give her a tender kiss. "What is relevant is YOU are the CLOSEST thing I have to a wife. Maybe one day, when you find it within you to say yes to me, you will be my wife. Until the arrival of that day, I will treat you AND spoil you just as I would if you WERE my wife, because in my eyes and my heart you already occupy that place. THAT, honey, is MY choice and as such, I CHOOSE to give you that beautiful mink coat because you want it and you deserve it and giving you things you want and deserve makes me happy."

Della Street wasn't a woman given to emotional outbursts, but not even she could control the tears that filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks at his heartfelt declaration. Perry Mason was a logical man and unaccustomed to sentimental discourses. Everything about this twenty-four hours and this moment was completely illogical to her, but damn she loved him. It pained her to be unable to give him this one thing when he gave her so much, but she knew it wasn't right…not at this time…maybe one day it would be right for them, but in her heart she felt the same way he did. To her, they were already married in every way except the eyes of the law.

They held each other's gaze, words unwarranted as their hearts knew all that needed to be said. Finally, he kissed away her tears, firmly patted her bottom and grinned. "Now get off my lap woman, my eggs are getting cold and you know I hate cold eggs."

She laughed, tightened her hold on him and kissed him passionately. They could make more eggs.

THE END.