When she settled her head on his leg, he turned the TV down and stroked her hair. He began to sing by humming. He had a gravelly, rough bass that was nowhere close to a good singing voice, but she loved listening to it.
"Itsy Bitsy Spider . . ."
She smiled, closing her eyes. Though she wasn't sure it was going to work, between the slow, rhythmic caress of his large hand and the murmur of his lullaby, she did drop off for awhile. When she became aware again, the room was semidark. It was twilight outside, and since the lights in Geoff's room and the hallway were off, she knew she and Chris were alone. His hand rested on her hip. When she shifted, showing she was awake, he gripped her thigh, squeezed and picked up the remote. He turned off the TV, the oven hood light in the kitchen providing the only illumination.
"When did he leave?" she asked thickly.
"About fifteen minutes ago. Said it'd probably be eleven or so before he was home."
"Okay."
Chris was always quiet, but there was a particular immobility to him now that seemed to discourage questions or suggestions. In her logy, just-waking state, the weight of what was about to happen wrapped them in sexual tension. Arousal spread through her belly like a slow, rich syrup, ready to flow in any direction he desired.
"Come here." He slid her into his lap, cradling her as he rose. He kissed her forehead and she wound her arms around him, sighing in contentment.
He took her to his bedroom. He threaded them through the doorway, turning so her feet didn't hit the frame, and put her down, holding her around the waist. His hands found her face, tracing her cheeks, her lips, in the darkness. "You steady on your feet?"
She nodded against his touch. "All right," he said. "Stay right here."
He moved away from her to his dresser. A match struck and he touched it to several candles. They hadn't been there earlier and she wondered if Geoff had put them there for him before he left, so Chris hadn't had to disturb her slumber. It was the type of thing she'd expect them to do.
"It's like you read each other's minds, anticipate what you each want before it happens."
"Sometimes the one thing you have in common makes the rest work out." Blowing out the match, he faced her, resting his hips against the dresser. "Will you take off your shirt and bra for me, Sam?"
Removing the T-shirt, she set it aside and unhooked the bra, letting it slide down her arms. She was restless and still at once, restless with desire and yet still, waiting for him.
Her gaze coursed around the room. He collected things from and about the work he loved. Bird nests, rocks. Secondhand books on plants and landscaping were organized in wooden crates he'd stacked up as his bookcases. Her attention lifted to the ceiling. The candlelight flickered over what he had hanging there, creating interesting shadows. He liked to work twigs into shapes, using long, resilient grasses to hold them that way. As a result, he had the wooden outline of birds and butterflies hanging from the ceiling, or pegged flat against it.
Chris didn't like to be hemmed in, even by the four walls of his bedroom. "Whichever one of us becomes the billionaire tycoon," Geoff had once said, "will make sure the mansion has at least one room with a glass ceiling. That will be Chris's bedroom." Before Chris started hanging his twig sculptures--or maybe he did it as a result--she and Geoff had painted his ceiling like a sky divided between night and day. Clouds, blue sky and the sun on the one half hosted seagulls, Canadian geese and cardinals flitting against the azure. The other half was a night sky full of stars and a crescent moon, the silhouette of an owl and a cadre of bats passing through and behind wispy, transparent gray clouds.
Where Geoff had the biggest bedroom, Chris had the one with the most windows, though right now the blinds were closed. He usually left them open, even at bedtime, because his windows faced the backyard. She knew he'd closed them to help her feel more comfortable. Or asked Geoff to do it, again so Chris wouldn't have to disturb her sleep.
It was like earlier today, when they'd called off the wrestling because she was in the middle of it. For all that they could be too protective at times, there were moments she understood what a miracle it was to have another person give such priority to her well-being. And she'd been given two people like that.
Chris was looking at her, and his expression made it hard to breathe. Such a look from Geoff made her want to kneel at his feet. Chris's expression held her still. It did amazing things to a woman, having a man look at her like she was a dessert. The kind to be savored in the ways that made the most of all its creator had intended it to be.
"Now take off the rest."
She removed jeans, socks and underwear, putting them all aside. His gaze followed the lengths of her thighs, grazed over her abdomen, her sex, dropped to her feet, then he worked his way back up again. "Chris."
His eyes lifted to hers. "What do you want, Sam?"
"You. Closer. Closer than breathing."
His lips curved and he moved toward her, stopping with a stride between them. Dropping to one knee, he closed his hands over her thighs, thumbs sliding along them until they touched the point of her sex, spreading the labia so air touched her intimately.
"I want you to put your hands behind your back. Link your fingers, hold them there."
She obeyed. His grip shifted to her waist then slid up her arms. "You tremble when I tell you to do that. Why?"
"It . . . excites me, when you or Geoff tell me to do something. I can't explain why . . . I mean, if you told me to wash the dishes just because you didn't want to do it, it wouldn't be the same." She managed a tight smile when his eyes twinkled in response to that. "But . . . if you told me to bring you a glass of water, not because you weren't willing to do it yourself, but because you wanted me to know you were going into . . . this mode, it would get my attention."
"Yeah. I've noticed that. Geoff said he threatened to use a belt on you."
"Yes." What if Chris didn't approve of that? What if . . .
"And you liked that idea."