Raising Eugenia

Her fingers were all blistered. Daffney Unger-Storm pouted at her callused tips with an expression of pure annoyance; nothing could have irritated her more.

"Where do you want your toothbrush?" Lance Storm: lover, companion: total pain in the ass. He staggered through the bathroom door, dripping water across a carpet that wasn't theirs to ruin.

But he was nude, except for a towel. Very forgivable.

She held out her hand, allowing her to hold the brush in her unfolded palm. She placed it gently on the nightstand and tilted her head as he scrubbed himself dry. "Very nice."

He smirked at her, "You're very...spicy...Daf."

"Hey, it's my honeymoon," she held up her bejeweled finger, "C'mere, Mr. prim-and-proper." She waggled a finger at him, eyebrows wiggling.

Lance blinked down at her, "But it's the middle of the afternoon!"

She giggled, pulling at his towel, throwing him off-balance and onto the bed. Within minutes, he lost a reason to protest.

***

She stirred to wakefulness roughly four hours later, as twighlight covered the inn. Lance's arm oppressed her peacefully; she smiled, cuddling back against him. Life was just so sweet...

Her eyes never fell on the toothbrush, which sat lazily on the side table, just as it had been placed hours before...Its bristles moving back and forth...as though being stroked with the tip of a finger.



Go On