Uncovering Annabelle (11 page)

She had the sheet tossed back and was half
off the bed before she realized she was stark naked. Grabbing the
sheet, she quickly dragged it to her chin. A fast survey of the
room assured her that this was not her bedroom. In fact, this was
not her bed.

“Oh, my Lord,” Annabelle gasped. She fell
back onto the pillows and covered her head with the sheet. All the
muscles in her body protested the move. She felt as if she’d run in
a marathon. Muscles she hadn’t known existed ached this morning.
Details from last night filled her mind, images of naked limbs
entwined. No wonder she was sore. Had she really been that wanton
woman?

She’d barely slept at all last night. Mike
woke her more than once with mind-numbing kisses. It was inevitable
that one thing would lead to another. She’d lost count of the
number of times they’d made love. She’d never had to face a morning
after, having never spent the entire night with a man before, and
she wasn’t ready. What did one say or do? She wanted it to be night
again, to lie in Mike’s arms once more and not have to think about
anything but the feel of his body against hers.

Annabelle rolled onto her side and moaned.
She desperately needed a shower. She just had to summon enough
energy to drag herself out of bed.

The mattress dipped next to her and she
froze. It was cowardly to hide under the sheet, but she honestly
didn’t know what to say to Mike. She felt completely
tongue-tied.

“I know you’re in there,” he teased. He
smoothed the covers over her back and then started to tug on
them.

She was glad one of them was amused, because
she wasn’t. She clung to the sheet, but Mike refused to let go. She
could either release it or let the fabric rip. Knowing she couldn’t
stay hidden under the covers forever, she let go. The fabric
slithered down her face and she got her first glimpse of Mike.

He was more handsome than ever. She never
imagined that a man could look that good first thing in the
morning. Obviously, he had already showered. She could smell the
crisp scent of his soap, while she felt about as fresh as last
week’s dirty laundry. He had pulled on a pair of faded jeans and
had donned a crisp white shirt, but hadn’t buttoned it. His rich
brown hair hung free to his shoulders and looked as soft as silk.
His eyes were filled with humor and crinkled at the corners when he
smiled.

“Time to rise and shine,” Mike coaxed her.
“I have coffee.” He picked up a cheerful yellow mug from the
bedside table and waved it in front of her.

“You don’t play fair,” she wailed as the
scent of fresh-brewed coffee reached her nose. Reluctantly, she sat
up in bed, but she took care to make sure the sheet was tucked
firmly under her arms. She leaned back against the headboard,
grateful for its support.

Mike passed her the coffee and waited until
she’d taken a sip. “Not when it’s something I really want.”

Annabelle choked on the hot liquid and sat
forward, bending at the waist. Mike patted her back while she
coughed and sputtered. It took her a moment to get her breath back.
“What do you mean by that?” She glared at him as she resettled
against the pillows. He’d gotten what he wanted last night, hadn’t
he? What more did he want?

“We’ll talk over breakfast.” Mike gave her a
quick kiss before standing. “Right now, I’d say you’d like to get
cleaned up.”

Annabelle nodded. She ducked her head,
embarrassed. It was one thing for her to know she desperately
needed a shower, but it was quite another for Mike to point it
out.

“There are fresh towels in the bathroom.
Help yourself to anything you need.” Mike started to leave but
paused. “Oh, and I hung one of my shirts on the back of the door
for you to wear.”

Annabelle watched him leave, unable to think
of anything witty to say. He was so matter-of-fact about it all,
she wondered how commonplace this sort of situation was to him.
Just thinking about Mike with another woman gave her a headache.
She set the coffee mug down on the bedside table and started to
pull back the covers, when Mike poked his head back around the
door.

“Oh, and breakfast will be ready when you
are.”

She stayed in bed and stared at the doorway
for several more seconds, until she was sure Mike wasn’t going to
sneak back again. When she was sure there would be no more
surprises, she slid from the bed and wrapped the sheet around her.
She wasn’t comfortable parading around naked, even if she was
alone.

Her clothing was strewn around the room. Her
bra and panties were in a tangle on the floor. It took her longer
than she thought it would to bend over, grab them and then stand up
straight again. She really was sore this morning. Her dress, she
noted, had been tossed across the back of the chair. Points to Mike
for that.

She’d worry about the state of her dress
later. Right now she needed a hot shower to work some of the
stiffness from her body. She padded to the bathroom with the tail
of the sheet trailing behind her. Annabelle made sure the sheet was
out of the way before she closed and locked the bathroom door. She
didn’t want any interruptions during her shower.

She glanced toward the mirror and caught a
glimpse of herself. She screamed.

The underwear slipped from her grasp and
fell to the floor, forgotten. Leaning against the vanity for
support, she stared at her reflection through bloodshot eyes. Her
face was pale and her lips were swollen. She noted that her hand
was shaking as she raised it to touch her head. The long mass of
her hair looked as though rats had played in it. She rested her
forehead against the cold glass. Mike had seen her like this.

A loud pounding on the door made her jerk
back. She struck her leg on the corner of the cabinet and bounced
off the wall. Reaching out, she grabbed a towel rack for
support.

“Annabelle, are you all right?” Mike sounded
alarmed.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was barely a whisper,
so she tried again, this time much louder. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I heard you scream.” Mike
jiggled the handle of the door. She was extra glad she’d locked
it.

“I saw myself in the mirror.” Annabelle
slapped her hand over her mouth the minute she spoke. What was it
about Mike that made her mouth run amok?

Mike’s laughter filtered in through the
door. “Get your shower, Annabelle.” She heard his footsteps as he
retreated to the kitchen.

Thoroughly disgruntled, Annabelle turned on
the hot water with more force than necessary and jumped back when
the water splashed her. She rubbed her poor abused thigh as she
waited for the water to heat up. Muttering to herself about men and
life in general, she adjusted the water temperature and the spray.
She dropped the sheet, climbed into the shower and allowed the
water to work its magic.

Annabelle took her time. Standing beneath
the spray, she let the hot water pummel her poor body. Once the
heat had loosened up her sore muscles, she washed and rinsed her
hair, twice. Then she lathered her entire body with Mike’s soap.
The smell reminded her of him, turning the act of bathing into an
erotic experience.

It was just like rubbing against him in bed.
The soap was hard and smooth in her palm and when she ran it over
her breasts her nipples automatically puckered in response. She was
actually arousing herself, but it felt too good to stop.

She bit her bottom lip and then slid the
slick bar over her stomach and between her legs. It pressed against
her clitoris and sent a shock of pleasure through her. Annabelle
dropped the soap and it hit the bottom of the tile with a thud. She
swayed and had to put a hand on the wall to support herself.

She had to stop before she had an accident
in the shower. She shuddered in horror as she imagined trying to
explain the situation to the responding paramedics. The thought was
too horrible to bear.

She turned down the hot water and allowed
the cooler flow to rinse the soap from her body. She gritted her
teeth and stood under the cold for a full half minute longer before
turning it off. If that didn’t quell her libido, nothing would.
She’d never needed a cold shower in her life. One night with Mike
had turned her life upside down.

She was shivering when she stepped out of
the shower. There was a big white bath towel sitting on the end of
the vanity. She assumed Mike had put it there for her and used it
to dry off before wrapping it around herself.

The mirror was steamed slightly, in spite of
the fan. She wiped away the fog, squinted and studied her
appearance. It was an improvement but she wasn’t ready to face Mike
just yet.

She wished she had a toothbrush. She stared
longingly at his but couldn’t bring herself to use it. She’d just
have to improvise. Using her finger, Annabelle brushed her teeth as
best she could. When she was done, she filled the cup that sat on
the sink and rinsed her mouth twice before drinking a full glass of
water.

It might have felt too weird to use his
toothbrush, but she had no such reservations when it came to his
comb and hair dryer. In no time at all she had her hair tamed. It
was a natural instinct to start to twist it up into her regular
bun, but she caught herself and let it fall free. It tumbled over
her bare shoulders and arms, making her feel sensual. Sexy.

She picked up her underwear from the floor
and rinsed it in the sink. There was no way she could put on
yesterday’s underwear. She draped it over the towel rack and prayed
it would dry while she was having breakfast, at least enough for
her to be able to wear home.

Annabelle finished patting her skin dry and
then hung up the damp towel. She wished she had some of her own
moisturizer. She made a note to start carrying a small bag of
supplies in her purse. Her mental checklist included toothpaste,
toothbrush, moisturizer, and as much as it made her blush, clean
panties. If she was going to conduct an affair she might as well be
prepared. The drugstore might even carry trial sizes of products
that would fit nicely into her large purse. It was definitely
something to check on.

As Mike had promised, one of his shirts hung
on the back of the door. She slipped it on, loving the feel of it
against her skin. The material was soft from many washings and the
blue denim had faded to almost white. It was big on her, hanging to
just above her knees. She rolled up the sleeves and buttoned it
right to the top. Peering into the mirror, she studied her
appearance.

She looked much better than she had earlier.
Her face had some color and her eyes were a little clearer. The
shirt covered her as well as a dress, but she was well aware of the
fact that she was naked beneath it. The fabric seemed heavy against
her skin and she tugged it away from her body and flapped the ends.
The slight breeze cooled her for the moment and she dropped the
tail of the shirt again.

She’d delayed long enough and was as ready
as she’d ever be. Gathering her courage, she left the bathroom. She
stopped long enough to don her glasses and grab her now cold coffee
before following her nose toward the delicious smells coming from
the kitchen.

• • •

Mike was standing at the stove scrambling
eggs when he sensed that he was no longer alone. Although she’d
made no sound, he was very aware of Annabelle’s presence. The
atmosphere in the room felt different. More complete somehow.
“There’s more coffee if you want it.” He motioned to the
coffeemaker sitting on the counter.

Annabelle edged into the kitchen, tugging at
the hem of the shirt she wore as she walked. He could have told her
it was a waste of time. The shirt covered her as much as any
respectable dress would. It was the woman under the shirt that made
the difference. And Annabelle looked good enough to eat for
breakfast.

On silent feet, she padded to the counter.
Mike tried not to notice how her breasts moved freely beneath the
shirt, but he was a man after all and couldn’t help but stare. She
wasn’t wearing a bra. That made him wonder if she was wearing any
panties.

Thankfully, she wasn’t paying enough
attention to him to notice him staring at her chest. All her focus
was on getting another cup of coffee. She dumped what remained in
the cup into the sink and poured fresh. The sugar bowl was next to
the coffeepot and she added several spoonfuls and stirred. After
taking a fortifying swallow, she finally worked up enough nerve to
send a glance his way.

Annabelle had obviously had too much time to
think about last night and had made herself nervous all over again.
Mike shook his head and smiled with amusement when she
automatically refilled his mug as well. That was Annabelle, always
taking care of others. He wanted the right to be the one to take
care of her.

“Thanks.” He picked up his mug and sipped.
She stood beside him, hovering uncertainly. He motioned to the
table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Breakfast will be ready in just
a minute.”

Annabelle looked like she wanted to ask him
something, but nodded instead and walked to the table, carrying her
coffee mug with her. He knew she probably wanted to help. That was
her nature. But she probably felt too unsure of herself to ask.
From what little he knew of her, she didn’t date much and hadn’t
had many serious relationships. He wanted her to be comfortable
enough in his home to do whatever she wanted without asking.

She sat at the table, taking the time to
make sure the tails of the shirt were tucked safely beneath her.
When she was settled to her satisfaction, she peered around the
kitchen with undisguised interest.

It was a big, comfortable room with a table
set in a nook with bench seats on either side. Both the table and
benches were constructed of pine, and the benches were covered in a
sturdy forest green fabric. The walls were pine halfway up, and the
top half was painted a clean, crisp white. The cupboards were white
as well, and the appliances were stainless steel. The whole effect
was masculine without being overwhelming.