Free Designs On Daphne by Lilly Christine

He was just waiting for her to say something. She had to push away the sensation that he was standing right behind her, moving closer. She felt naked, felt him touching her. . . NO!
      She took a deep breath. Now I have the kitchen to think about. . . And a party to plan! How can I be preoccupied by inappropriate extra curriculars with a party to plan??
      “Daphne?” he asked.
      “What, oh, yes, Rodric?”
      His voice was gentle. “You were processing that I’ve decided to move in early?”
      “Ah-no, darling, ah. . . I’m sure I can take care of outfitting your kitchen,” Daphne said smoothly, “And I’ll have five or six designs for window treatments with corresponding hardware tonight, tomorrow at the latest.”
      “Excellent. We should plan on dinner, then, tomorrow?” Rodric asked.
      Besides her carnal preoccupations, Rodric’s company was something she’d begun to truly appreciate: she absolutely abhorred dining alone. Some of the women in her evening class had begun going out together for drinks afterward. Her feelings had been hurt thinking about it, but now she had Friday night plans, too.
       With Rodric.
      Erotic naked images of them together evaporated. Well, almost. Her mouth began to water at the prospect of trips to the gourmet and department stores for cutlery and Calphalon and everything else he’d need.
      She found herself smiling. “Sure thing, honey-button, see you tomorrow!”

    *****
      That afternoon in Williams-Sonoma, Daphne stood in front of piles of boxes containing the Kitchen Aid Pro 600 stand mixer and every attachment available, from sausage grinder to ice cream maker. Wondering about Christmas cookies and pizza dough, she began to come to her senses.   What am I doing?
       She’d chosen twenty five copper-clad Mauviel pots and pans, from the teeniest little sauce warmer to a roasting pan big enough to fit a long side of pork ribs next to a mammoth turkey.
      She’d even measured Rodric’s oven, to be sure it all  would fit inside.
      What am I doing?
      It had been so cosy next to Rodric last night, talking and laughing on the soft carpet of his mother’s apartment.
      What am I doing?
      She thought about how she’d wanted to crawl into his lap after they’d finished the coconut rice. She’d taken his hand when they’d mistakenly walked to the nursery furniture, too, and that was after she’d had the urge to drop to the bed he’d seemed to like and pull him on top of her!
      What am I thinking?
       She’d touched his thigh more than once as he told her stories over dessert, and had been truly annoyed that the evening hadn’t ended with a real, honest to goodness kiss, a kiss that would define their relationship as other-than-professional, and not-just-friends.
      What am I thinking?
      She hadn’t stopped. Thinking. Of Rodric. Of his kitchen. Of his meals, possibly alone. ( What would he cook, all by himself?) Of his living room, soon to be comfortably outfitted with two long tufted leather sectionals punctuated by wonderfully funky throw pillows, ( the happiest balance between deliciously sophisticated and inviting and comfy, if I do say!)    Of his clothing; his suits, fine, expensive and attractively tailored, paired with the most exquisite white shirts and his sumptuous ties. Of the silk boxers and dressing gown she wanted to buy and then take off him, cast on the carpet of his bedroom. . . She sure as hell had not stopped thinking of his bathroom, or that damned shower, her breasts popping against the glass as he. . . .
      The only thing that had kept her from thinking about Rodric naked and wrapped around her was his kitchen, his window treatments, and now this darn housewarming party he needed her to help plan.
      Naturally, she’d be there. At the party.
      She’d help him plan it- he’d need her help, that was for certain. She’d already decided what menus to pick up. They’d choose from a nice selection of cold