Something smells heavenly and he wants to sink his nose in it. Then he wakes up fully in his bed and realizes that it's Daphne's hair what he's been inhaling in his asleep state. Apparently they've been spooning, with him circling her waist from behind and burying his face in her mane.
He stretches contentedly, careful not to disturb her. She's sleeping placidly next to him, naked under the silk sheet, and he would be happy spending the morning just staring at her. She has her back turned to him and his eyes can feast prodigally on the flawless skin on display and on her sweet curves. Her naked beauty and glory is beyond anything he's imagined. And he's imagined her countless times in these six years. Her face, her figure, her voice, her scent, her personality, everything about her has accompanied him every day and every night since he first met her. She's been in his mind unrelentlessly when he still lived with Maris, when he separated, when he moved to live on his own. Even when he's had flings and dated other women, she was in the back of his conscience. Those times he made the effort to push her image to the most private place of his mind because it didn't feel right to be thinking of her when he was flirting, wooing or bedding someone else. Since Daphne appeared on the scene, he'd had to learn to compartmentalize his own (and her) sentimental and sexual life, because otherwise he would have turned crazy with jealousy every time she dated some guy (it's always been a hard blow, but the compartmentalization technique has helped a lot), or with guilt because Maris by then started definitely to fall short in comparison, and after his separation every woman he went out and slept with invariably felt as second best to Daphne (but he tried, more or less successfully, to focus on what he liked about them and on the good things he could share with them instead of missing what he couldn't have).
It's a wonder to him that she's here with him now, at his house and in his bed, and that they've become lovers. Oh, definitely. The wicked things we did together last night... No previous experiences can compare to this. Not that his sexual life has been extensive, despite having been with Maris for fifteen years and married to her for twelve. In the last couple of years since his separation and divorce, he's had sex more times than in the last five or six years of his marriage put together, and not that it's happened many times anyway. But either way, Daphne is something else. So much else.
His face warms up just remembering the previous night.
After their first time making love to each other, Daphne had suggested taking a bath (and she also washed her lingerie, always practical; she hadn't brought a change of clothes and the next day she would have to put on the same outfit and underwear to go back to Frasier's, luckily she had her long coat to cover the red evening dress) and things had become quite spicy again. They ended up making a mess on the tiled floor when the water splashed from the edge of the bathtub, but Niles couldn't care less when he had his hot brunette riding him until they reached their culmination. Afterwards they'd dried the floor laughing and yawning from exhaustion and had dropped on the bed naked and happy, falling asleep as soon as they rested their heads on the pillows.
Niles doesn't remember having slept so well in ages, and waking up next to Daphne has fulfilled one of his secret desires, that is, waking up sharing a bed with the woman of his dreams. How many times he's dreamed with her in his sleep only to wake up painfully alone or sometimes with a fling or date next to him. No matter how much he'd enjoyed that woman's company; in the first most vulnerable and unguarded moments of the morning, the ache for Daphne invariably made his chest hurt, until his rational mind managed (with more or less degrees of success) to subdue his ever-present longing for her.
Now that he knows what he'd been missing, he wonders how he's been able to endure six whole years with Daphne so close at hand but never close enough.
He takes a quick look at the digital alarm clock on his nighstand and the screen shows "8:49". For him, usually an early riser, it's nearly a late hour to get up, but, once more, he doesn't care, as he didn't give a damn either about the mess on the bathroom floor earlier. Everything with Daphne is exciting, brand new, and things that a while before would have made him get anxious now leave him unperturbed. He's changing into a less neurotic and phobic person, and his self-confidence is improving as well, all thanks to her. He kisses her shoulder softly and smiles when she doesn't stir. Then he decides that it's time to prepare breakfast. Luckily he's a foresighted person and his fridge and pantry are always well stocked. He loves the fact that he's so familarized with Daphne's tastes, because he knows just the perfect selection for her. He puts on a robe and his slippers and heads for the kitchen with a spring in his step.
He starts the coffee maker, takes out the different items, ingredients and cookware and engrosses himself in the task.
When he's about to turn off the stove and go wake Daphne up with a kiss, she makes an appearance at the kitchen door wrapped in one of his silk robes, barefooted, with her hair mussy and fresh-faced. She's so adorable that he has the sudden desire to have her on the kitchen table, but he struggles to rein in his own urges. She definitely brings out the randy caveman he carries within.
"Good morning, beauty," he greets, smiling at her. "Breakfast is ready."
She smiles back. "Morning, handsome." She walks to him and they share a languid kiss. When they break apart, her eyes land on the food display with approval. "Wow, my favorites. How did I become so lucky?," she teases, while helping Niles carry the mugs, plates, cutlery and napkins to the table.
"I could ask the same question," he replies, leaning forward to kiss her again, and they chuckle in contentment on each other's lips. Then they sit down on the low stools.
"It looks like we're even," she jokes, reaching for her mug of coffee. "Hmm, I'm positively famished. Someone made me spend extra energy last night." She sighs in satisfaction when she takes the first sip.
"Curious, the same happened to me. Seems like some vivacious brunette fell upon me. I'm sore in places I haven't felt in years," he teases back. They're now eating with relish.
"Oh, are you? Don't worry, the soreness will fade with time if you go on exercising those same places."
"I think I'll take up your suggestion, if the brunette is willing to aid me." The innuendo is so corny, but Niles loves it.
"I believe there's a good chance that she is," Daphne says, the glint of mischief shining in her brown eyes.
"Oh. That's lucky." His heart is racing, because she's just admitted that she wants to continue with this. With the glorious times they're having together. "What about spending a lazy morning here? My father and Frasier can manage by themselves for some hours. And afterwards we can simply order something for lunch for the four of us at Frasier's. Would you like that?"
Daphne nods emphatically. "Oh, it would be great. I'm too wasted to cook today," she agrees, lifting a naughty eyebrow.
"I have a feeling that you're going to be even more wasted before the morning ends," Niles retorts breezily, and Daphne giggles merrily. The sound of her cheerfulness never grows old for him.
"I don't have the slightest doubt about that," she assures and kisses him, promising with her lips a world of endless pleasures.