Full Circle by Erin – Chapter 3

Republisher’s Note: Ben Warren couldn’t get Danny off the charges during the annulment separation and Michelle has agreed to help.

Full Circle by Erin – Chapter 3

“Would you please stop that?”

I look up from the magazine I’m leafing through to find Danny glaring at me over his newspaper.

I close my eyes and grit my teeth.

We’ve been in Chicago for an hour and this is the fifth fight he’s picked with me since we got here.

“Stop what, Danny?” I ask. I know I sound like a bitch, but then, I feel like one too right now. “Stop reading? Stop sitting on the couch? Stop breathing, perhaps?”

Danny’s jaw tightens and he casts his eyes back down at his paper. “Stop crossing and uncrossing your legs,” he replies.

That stuns me into silence for a moment. We are sitting in the “living room” of our hotel suite, he in a chair, I on the sofa across from him. I hadn’t even realized what I was doing with my legs.

Apparently he had and I get a little thrill from that.

“Good,” I think shrewishly. “Let him suffer.”

He didn’t say a word to me last night in “our” bedroom, or in the limo on the way to the airport or on the plane. But the moment we unlocked the door to our suite, the fighting had begun. First I got a lecture on how he was sleeping in the bed no matter what. I told him he could sleep on the damn moon for all I cared. He then pointed out that this bed was a good deal smaller than the bed we had shared at his house.

“Yes, Danny” I had sneered. “As a proud graduate of The Springfield Daycare center, class of ’82, I am actually able to tell the difference between bigger and smaller.”

That shut him up for a moment. A brief moment.

As we were unpacking, he glanced over at the suits I was hanging up and commented that he hoped those skirts weren’t as short as the one I had on.

I pointed out that the skirt I had on, another gift from Dad, this one a deep berry red, went to my knees.

He studied me in silence before saying, “I guess you’re right. I still feel like every inch of your legs is on display though.”

“Then don’t look,” I retorted sharply.

The other two fights were about the same kinds of things: Why did I take my hair down? I wasn’t planning on wearing it down to the trial, was I? It looks too…well, just wear it up. Why did I take off my jacket? It’s cold in this room, don’t I know that? Put it back on.

Finally, I had given in and twisted my hair back up onto my head and replace my suit jacket.

There was a chill in the room.

That’s why I’d taken it off.

Good to see he noticed.

“What are you smiling about?”

I shake myself out of my reverie to glance back up at Danny. “Oh, uh…nothing. Something I read.”

His eyes narrow suspiciously, but he doesn’t question me any further.

“So,” I say standing up and stretching. “Are we going out to dinner or is it a room service kind of night?”

“Order whatever you want,” Danny replies, his voice strangely thick. “I’m not….I’m not hungry.”

“Cool.” I say breezily as walk over to the bed and lift my make-up bag and a nightgown out of my half empty suitcase.

“I’m gonna go wash my face and change. You need anything?”

“No.”

Danny wasn’t looking at me, but the paper in his hands was trembling a little. I smile and hum happily as I flip on the light in the mammoth bathroom that could easily hold Rick’s kitchen. I have just finished unbuttoning my blouse and taking down my hair, again, when Danny calls me.

“Yeah?” I call as I step back into the room.

Danny is standing in front of the glass door that leads out onto the balcony, the bright lights of Chicago stretching out in front of him.

He turns when he hears me and whatever he was about to say dies on his lips.

“What?” I ask, looking down at myself.

My blouse is unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of the black bra underneath, but I haven’t removed anything yet.

He just stands there, staring at me for a few seconds.

He crosses the room in about two strides and pulls me to him.

His lips are on mine before I can utter so much as a squeal.

He’s never kissed me like this. It’s a kiss meant to hurt, meant to weaken. His tongue forces my lips open and boldly sweeps my mouth one hand grabs the back of my head, twisting in my hair.

I push against him, but it’s a token resistance. He has me and he knows it. I open my mouth wider under his as his lips, tongue and even teeth do things to mine that I never even imagined. He releases my hair and parts my shirt with both hands. I gasp as his hands run along my stomach, my ribcage. His hands move higher, flirting with the undersides of my breasts. A low moan builds in my throat as his fingers lightly brush across my nipples.

Desire for him threatens to consume me and I press myself higher against him, grinding my hips against his in a way that would have shocked me only a few months ago. But I am past shock now.

Suddenly, his hands and mouth are gone from my skin and I open my eyes to stare at him through a haze of want.

Iceman Danny stands before me, a smirk on his face. “There,” he says darkly, “Is that what you wanted?”

Anger and embarrassment render me immobile. But not for long.

“No.” I say, catching my breath. “This is.”

I grab the back of his head with one hand and pull his mouth back down to mine. My kiss is not forceful though. No, that’s not my style. Instead, I run the tip of my tongue around his lips and feel triumph surge through me as he groans and leans more fully towards me. I don’t give in though. Instead, I let my lips just lightly feather his as I reach beneath his dark blue dress shirt and skate my fingers across the muscles of his stomach. He moves into to kiss me again, but I dodge him and run my hands around to his back, my fingers resting in the hollow of his spine as I place nibbling kisses on his neck.

“Michelle-” he nearly growls.

That’s my cue and I pull back, a satisfied smile on my face. “Sorry, honey.” I say in a sweeter-than-sugar voice. “But you were asking for that.”

His eyes blacken with a combination of anger and lust. “You little-”

I turn my back on him and head back into the bathroom. “You know what they say about if you can’t stand the heat, Danny…”

He doesn’t follow me but calls out, “I can handle it, Michelle. A hell of a lot better than you can.”

“We’ll see about that.” I say, coming to stand in the doorway of the bathroom. This time, my blouse dangles from my hand.

Danny’s hands clench in fists at his side, but he almost manages to sound jovial as he says, “Care to make a bet?”

“What are the stakes?” I ask, propping my hands on my hips.

“I win, you get outta my life.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Anxious to be rid of me, Daniel?”

A wry smile quirks Danny’s mouth. “Not really. But my sanity demands it.”

“And if I win?”

He shrugs. “You choose.”

I pretend to be contemplating what I want, but I know exactly what I want to wager.

“OK…I win, not only do I remain Mrs. Daniel Santos, but we move out of the Alcatraz that you call home.”

“Deal,” Danny says, shaking my hand.

“There’s just one thing.” I say as we finish our shake but don’t drop our hands.

“What’s that?”

I laugh as I lean in and say, “What are we betting on?”

A slow smile spreads across Danny’s face as he says, “Who crawls into the other’s bed first.”

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