AN: So clearly I'm a sucker for people asking for a new chapter. You can thank the two guests who were asking for more :) Thanks so much for reading and I'm glad a few of you are enjoying this one.
Chapter 8
"Oh fine, what do you want?" Carol sighed. She took a drink of her wine then set it down to wait for the terms.
"Well, give the enormity of the favour," he started. "I think I'll require at least three small favours in return."
"Three," she repeated. "You're serious?"
Daryl nodded. "At least," he repeated.
"Well that implies that you don't even know what the tasks are yet," Carol said with a frown. "What's to keep me from ending up your personal slave in this agreement?"
His eyes lit up at her comment, "I like the sound of that." She glared and he continued. "We'll put a range and a deadline on it," he added. "At least 3, but no more than 5. And I only have until midnight tomorrow to collect. Fair?"
"You have no idea the anxiety I have right now… but deal," Carol replied.
"Good. My first request is that you do the dishes," Daryl said, pushing his plate away.
"But you have a dishwasher…" She gave him a curious look. "Are you sure you want to waste a… wish… on that?"
"Oh fuck, I have no idea how to run that thing," he said, looking quite serious. "I think Merle might have used it a couple times when he's been here, but I always do dishes in the sink."
"Hmm, okay. I'll do the dishes and you have at least 2, but no more than 4 left," She replied, standing to start gathering plates. "By the way," she whispered, leaning close to his ear. "I would have done the dishes anyway."
She heard him mutter "well fuck" as she waltzed towards the dishwasher to start loading it up. The kitchen was a complete disaster, but the dinner he'd made really was delicious and unexpected so she wasn't the least bit annoyed by the mess. Carol hummed a song while she cleaned - it was a habit she'd never been able to control.
When she finished she found Daryl in the living room, watching TV. "All done Master, may I rest now?" He smirked and scooted over on the couch, patting the spot beside him. It was an invitation she could have refused or ignored and sat in the recliner like she'd originally planned, but instead she plopped down beside him, tucked up her legs and leaned on him. Daryl slipped an arm around her, like it was a perfectly natural way to sit.
They quietly watched a couple of shows together. She enjoyed the way his body jiggled her when he laughed and she couldn't help but love the way he smelled. Daryl always smelled good. Somehow, even after we went out for a smoke, the scent didn't linger on him, it was always overpowered by his delicious cologne. When they first met he used to call it perfume and said it was only for girls… oh how things change.
Carol realized if anyone were to look in on them they would certainly look like a couple, snuggled together for the sake of being close when there were several other places to sit in the room. Even though they were only friends it didn't feel strange at all with Daryl. He had taken a while to get comfortable with being physical but now that he was - it was just natural - at least for them.
As the second show ended Carol started to yawn. "I think I'm going to call it a night," she announced, standing up.
"Not quite yet," Daryl replied. "There's something else I need first." Carol narrowed her eyes and waited. He started to stretch and wiggle and rub his shoulders a bit. "My muscles are feeling a bit sore… think I'm gonna need a massage before bed." She stared at him blankly, wondering if he was serious. "Gotta make sure I'm all limbered up for my big scene tomorrow."
Yep, he was serious. "Oh fine, let's get this over with." Daryl grinned at her and pulled off his shirt. "What are you doing?" she interrupted as he started to reach for his pants.
"What? No happy ending?" he replied, blinking innocently at her.
"Oh my God, you're disgusting," she laughed, knowing for certain he was joking about that part at least.
"Yeah, I really am," he admitted. "But listen, like, if you're feeling it… once you get started… it's always there for ya," he said, gesturing to his dick.
"Don't worry, I'm well aware of where all your parts are," Carol replied. "The parts I will be touching and the parts… I won't." She tried to think back and pinpoint when he'd changed from that shy guy who would blush at any sexual inuendo to this confident man who was the one throwing the inuendo into the conversation. There wasn't a specific event that had made him change, but years of living this new lifestyle and years of getting comfortable with each other.
Daryl gave her a little smile and turned around on the couch. "I'm ready," he said over his shoulder. "No point in lying on my back I suppose," he added under his breath.
Carol sat back down behind him on the couch and placed her hands on his shoulders. His skin was warm and she felt a shiver run through her body. She started to gently work his muscles, kneading with her fingers and thumbs. Daryl groaned and she felt most of the tension leave his muscles as he relaxed. She worked her way down his back, between his shoulder blades, rubbing with her thumbs, then back up, all the way to his neck. She felt his silky hair on her fingertips and was shocked by the desire to run her fingers through his hair and massage his scalp. Carol started low at the base and soon found herself with her hands buried in his dark wisps, fingertips rubbing his head. "Fuck that feels good," Daryl moaned. She felt a stirring inside that she didn't like. Well, it wasn't that she didn't like it, it was more that it was once again a very inappropriate feeling given that she was feeling it because of Daryl.
Carol forced herself to pull her hands out and move to one of his arms, immediately wondering why on earth she thought that feeling his rippling biceps would make things better. Just get through it and go to bed, she thought, taking a silent breath to calm her hormones. "There, all finished," she announced.
"Not quite," Daryl replied, turning to face her. "You didn't do the front yet." She let her eyes wander over his chest. "Careful though, my nipples are really sensitive."
He thought he was getting to her. And in all honestly, maybe he was. But she certainly wasn't going to let him know that. She reached out calmly and run her hands over his chest, rubbing his muscles. "Good?" She asked after a few minutes.
"Yes, thank you," he replied, being somewhat serious for the first time in a while. Which was perfect timing for what she was about to do.
Her hands were still on his chest and Carol pushed against him to stand up. "Okay, well I'll just be going to bed now then..." As she pulled her hands away she caught both of his nipples and pinched. It wasn't hard but Daryl hit the roof and she fell into the nearby recliner in a fit of giggles.
"Jesus… oh man… you are going to pay for that Peletier," he warned, between pants. Daryl had both hands covering his nipples for comfort and protection.
"Oh come on, don't act like you wouldn't have done it," Carol teased, when she caught her breath.
"I'm pretty sure you would kick my ass if I pinched your nipples," he said dryly, still covering himself and eyeing her like she might attack again.
"Okay, maybe that was a bad example," she snorted. It was a bit different for a guy to touch a girls boobs. She gathered herself and stood. "I really am gonna go to bed now," she said. "I'm sorry about the nipples. It won't happen again, I promise."
Daryl started to smile, "There is a time I don't mind my nipples pinched."
"It won't happen again, I promise," she repeated with a little smile. "Night Daryl."
"Oh wait, one more thing," he called out, following her down the hall. "Set your alarm 45 minutes earlier."
"What?" she hissed. "I'm already getting up at the fucking crack of dawn. Before the crack of dawn actually."
Daryl pat her on the top of the head. "So tomorrow you get up 45 minutes earlier."
"Are you going to tell me why?" Carol asked, stopping in front of her door.
"Payback starts with your 3rd task." He had an evil look on his face. "Tomorrow morning… we're going jogging."
"Jogging. No. You can't be serious," Carol gasped. "You know I hate jogging. And it's like 12 degrees out there. No. I can't. You can't… it's… dangerous."
Daryl chuckled. "Suck it up Princess. 5:30 sharp. We head out."
"Daryl, please," she tried. "I… uh… I have nothing to wear," she lied. She had stuff she could wear, but he didn't have to know that.
"I can go out now and buy you something…" he offered.
She scowled at him. "Nevermind," she grumbled. "I'll find something." She resisted the urge to slam the door in his smiling face and instead closed it slowly, glaring at him the entire time.
Jogging… fucking jogging, she thought, getting undressed and throwing her clothes angrily on the floor. Who enjoys that anyway? It's torture. What's the point of just running in a big circle, getting all sweaty, with no reward at the end? There are much better ways to exercise. She was still mad at Daryl when she fell asleep and even more angry when the alarm woke her the next morning.
She was cursing under her breath as she put on one pair of yoga pants and a second pair over top. She layered on the top too then headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash. At exactly 5:30 she walked to the front door in her sneakers.
Daryl was waiting and he promptly plopped a hat on her head. "You're gonna need that, it's cold out."
"Well aren't you captain obvious first thing in the morning," she muttered, fixing the hat and feeling stupid for not thinking of that herself. "How far are we going? Like around the block or something?" City blocks were huge, surely that was far enough.
Daryl snorted. "Well I normally do a 5 mile route…" Carol's eyes bugged out. "But we'll cut it in half and just do 2.5."
She felt her heart start to pound. "2.5 miles... like all at once? Without stopping?"
"If you really need a break I'll stop for you," Daryl offered.
And that was it. The challenge was on. Her competitive spirit was alive. "Let's do the full 5 miles," she replied, feeling determined. At about the 2 mile mark she wished she had of shut the fuck up. There was a pain under her rib that made her want to curl up in a ball and die, but it didn't even compare to the ache in her lungs from the cold air. Once they got going she realized she had too many layers on too and was sweating way more than she ever would have imagined.
"You okay?" Daryl asked. Carol was pretty sure he'd slowed his pace considerably for her benefit and that in itself pissed her off. He was a fucking smoker who drank and partied, yet he could out jog her easily. It wasn't right. It wasn't logical. It wasn't even fair.
"Fine," she muttered. Carol gritted her teeth and pushed on. She gave everything she had, but just shy of the 4 mile mark she was done. She stopped and doubled over in pain. Suddenly she knew she was going to vomit and ran for an alleyway. Daryl was right behind her as she puked beside a dumpster.
"Shit, Carol… you should have stopped earlier," he said, rubbing her back. "Was I going too fast?"
He didn't mean it the way it came out but she couldn't hold back the snarl. "Fuck you," she hissed.
That's when he finally caught on. "Oh my God, you were trying to keep up… my little competitive muffin," he drawled. "Come on, you need to walk or you're gonna cramp." He took her elbow and guided her back to the street. "I jog all the time. You aren't supposed to be able to keep up."
"Fuck you," she said again. Her legs hurt and walking was a challenge. Luckily, they weren't all that far from his apartment at that point in the route, less than half a block. When the walked in the front doors Daryl swore under his breath.
"Elevators are on the fritz again," he sighed. "Someone is supposed to have fixed them by now. But it looks like we're gonna have to take the stairs." She was beginning to realize why he was considering moving.
"I can't," Carol said. Her legs were shaking as it was. "There's no way I'll make it up 10 flights."
"Well, I missed out on more than half my usual jog, so…" he swept her off her feet, into his arms. "Guess I'll just get the rest of my workout this way."
It was barely 6am. Her legs we aching. And for once in her life Carol didn't even attempt to argue.
