Thomas’s departure left Cheri more anxious than when she went to bed the night before. If he hadn’t stopped by and made plans for that evening, her day off would have simply consisted of a meeting with the contractor and relaxing. Now, she had a date hanging over her head, along with that ever-growing splotch on the ceiling.
She somewhat resented the way he usurped a free day off. For the longest time, she almost worshipped Thomas, and she didn’t want to fall into that mindlessness again. She didn’t want to give up herself for anyone, didn’t want to get lost in anyone. This time, Cheri wanted to remain true to herself.
She dealt with her breakup with Thomas, in large part by simply walking away and letting time do its thing, heal all wounds like it was supposed to. Seeing him again and interacting with him put a quick stop to that and stirred the pot again. That aside, she insisted on looking great for their dinner date without laying it on too much, without looking like she was desperate.
She had heard of Gadsby’s Tavern before, but she had never been there. Thomasandria was another of those quiet, uber-rich pockets outside D.C. Out of curiosity, as well as to get some idea of the expected dress code, she searched the restaurant on the internet and checked out the menu. Seafood was not her favorite, and the cuisine was a little on the rich and heavy side. She scanned for the lightest thing she could find, a seafood salad, and decided she would have that. I can nibble if I have to, or even fill up on iced tea, she told herself. While the food didn’t exactly thrill her, the place looked like a wonderful setting for a nice dinner. She would be gazing into the crystal-clear eyes of the most handsome man she had ever been face to face with, and she was sure Thomas would have her so worked up that she wouldn’t even have an appetite.
Cheri then turned her focus on evening attire. Now that she knew where she was going, she mentally reviewed her wardrobe for something suitable. She had a lavender satin slip dress she was dying to wear, and it would go perfectly with her buff leather stacks. Thomas was nearly a foot taller than she was, so it was perfectly acceptable for her to break out the super-high heels. She hooked the dress hanger on the doorknob of her closet and set the shoes on the floor below it.
She then got to work on something productive to ease her anxiety. For some odd reason housecleaning always made her feel better, a handy and productive distraction. She stripped her bed down and changed her sheets. Halfway through making her place spic and span, though, she realized she was preparing her home for company, to invite Thomas over.
She nearly wore herself out doing so. Between the humidity and the workout, Cheri was coated with sweat. She made sure her place was locked up, as the fact that Wayne Titus had walked her second floor unescorted had left her with a delayed sense of creepiness. She then ran a bath and filled the tub almost to the brim with warm water, pouring in a big dollop of her favorite bubble bath. She dunked under to soak her hair, then emerged, feeling fresh and rejuvenated as the air-conditioning came into contact with her bath-heated skin. She lathered her body with cocoa butter-infused body wash, then shaved and massaged her feet with oil and scrubbed them with a pumice stone, till her whole body was smooth as glass and twice as radiant.
She released the bath water and turned the knobs for a fresh refill. She poured shampoo suds in her hair, scrubbed a while, then rinsed her mane under clean water. Feeling completely renewed, she stepped out of the bath and let it drain. She swaddled her head in a thick, comfortable towel and her body in a terrycloth robe, then reclined on her bed to take a moment to relax.
A short while later, Cheri sat up and towel-dried her hair so she wouldn’t wreck her pillow; she never blow-dried, because she couldn’t stand frizzy beach hair. When she was all clean, warm, and comfortable, she couldn’t help but doze off, the lackluster sleep from the night before finally hitting her. She sank into a deep, intense slumber almost immediately.
At first, her mind swam with powerful, clear images of her house and her neighborhood. Cheri didn’t realize she was actually asleep, for it felt very much like she had just placed her head on the pillow and skipped the nap to go into real time.
In her dream she stood at the top of her stairs, her hair in a towel turban, her body sheathed in a towel gown. Thomas was in the entryway, reaching upward, urging her to take his hand. Cheri did as he asked and practically floated down the stairs.
In the next beat, they were running together, flying with ease in long, flowing strides through a lush forest. Her hair was dry and bouncing in soft, romantic curls, flowing behind her as her body pushed forward to keep up with Thomas’s long legs. Her towel dress morphed into a gauzy peasant strapless frock, gathered in taut elastic around her chest.
Thomas sported a bright white shirt with no tails. His cuffs and collar were crisp and formal, but he wore it unbuttoned down to the middle of his chest, offering a teasing preview of his amazing tan form beneath it. His longish hair, though still not quite conforming to a rigid style, was brushed as civilly as ever, the perfect complement to the style of their almost pirate-like apparel.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To dinner,” he said. “This way.”
As his strong, large hand held hers, the power of their connection flowed through her with aching intensity. It awakened every animal urge within her and gathered at her core. Everything about Thomas aroused her. He was so much taller, something that turned her on even more. She ran a few steps behind him, so she was gifted with a sumptuous view of his wondrous backside all the way.
He stopped at a large tree, and a proud smile washed over his face. “We’re here,” he said, then leaned down and kissed her.
When his muscled arms embraced her, she felt so at ease, as if she belonged there, curled up against the warmth of his body. He held her as her face craned up to meet his. When his lips touched hers, Cheri’s head and heart rushed with the heat of explicit memories of all the things those sweet lips had done to her in the past. Her skin livened with erotic recall, and it felt as if his lips were in a thousand places on her at once.
The sunlight spilled through the leaf canopy above and glistened like stars in broad daylight. Cheri’s eyes were closed, but she sensed the brilliance. It was like she was in two places at once, both inside her body and up above, looking down on them both. Peace traveled down her spine, and she was filled with contentment as his tongue wrapped over hers. He was sweet, warm, and wet, and she adored the way he smelled. It was such animal reaction, but that musky scent made her shiver and she could not get enough of it.
With all her might, she lazily pulled away from him. “I thought we were going to dinner,” she murmured.
“We’re here,” he repeated, more enthusiastically this time, like it was all part of a great idea. “You just have to go get what you want,” he said, pointing up.
Somehow those words seemed to align reason for her, and it all made sense.
Thomas stooped and laced his fingers together to create a makeshift step for her. Cheri placed her hand on his shoulder to steady herself. When his lips were at her midriff, he extended the tip of his tongue to her navel. Cheri startled and shot up in the air, toward the treetops, propelled by the surprise. She was even more taken aback to find that the trees were suddenly filled with apples. She was airborne for a moment before landing softly in a soft bed of forest debris.
Thomas’s beautiful face loomed above her, and the trees themselves seemed to be leaning to peer down at her. “Get up! Get up!” he repeated over and over, in the most sensual voice she’d ever heard. “Get up, Cheri.”
Cheri sat up in a rush, confused and unaware of how long she had slept. She rubbed her eyes for a moment and looked around. She saw no sign of Thomas or any apple trees, but she did worry that she’d slept through her date. In a panic, she checked the time on her phone, only to realize it was time to get dressed and leave. “You’re even my rescuer in my dreams,” she mused with a smile, “and I can’t think of a more appealing alarm clock.”