Aprons For Gayle Ch. 19

"No, I will not," he replied sternly. "Stay put. Don't let the screeching bats carry you away."

As he walked toward the front door, she said, "Bats?! As'n vampira bats?! I'd love to half my neck bitt'n! Here, vamper, vamper! I got me some delicsciousous whino blood!"

Hamish shook his head as he unlocked the door...

A few minutes later, Hamish, Gayle and Bessie walked the path to the lake. The brightness of the moon lit their way, and a light breeze had picked up, but the wine Gayle drank kept her warm enough... that and the fact that Hamish had his arm protectively around her waist.

"So, pray tell, what in the world have I done wrong this evening that you're infuriated with me?"

"Ewe didn' danssse wit' me, Sir."

"Ah. No, I didn't, and neither did anyone else."

"Bu'tha' dudn't mean we couldn't've."

"Ms. Boyce, stop talking." She remained silent as they continued walking. A minute later, he asked, "Why are you so quiet?"

She cocked her head to look up at him. "Sir, you tol' me to -"

He snickered. "Since when do you listen to me?"

"I listen to ya all the time, when you talk, Sir."

"You got me there."

Taking the last bend of the path, she ran to the shore of the lake then turned around. "Wanna go skinned dippy?"

Just as he reached her, he asked, "It depends on what skinned - oh, skinny dipping?"

"Yep!"

"Do you know how cold that water - Brilliant idea! Ms. Boyce, undress," he ordered sternly.

Her eyes flew open. "Sir! I was joking! Are you serious?"

He tried to keep a straight face but failed when he smiled. "No. And you are never having another drink!"

She pouted playfully. "Okay, welllll, could'chu at leas' daunce with may?"

"It would be my honor, little fawn," he said as he extended his hand.

She took his hand, and he twirled her underneath his arm. Losing her footing, he drew her to him seductively. With a squeal, she put her other hand on his shoulder.

"Sir? That was a sexy move!" She giggled.

"Not really. I just didn't want you vomited all over my clean, shiny brogues."

Ignoring his comment, they danced around slowly, both in synch. A few minutes later, their arms were wrapped around the others, her head resting comfortably on his collarbone. She was calm, her body warm, her mind mellow... and her pussy tingling. She liked Hamish when he was sweet and affectionate. She wished she could see him like this more often.

Peering up at him, she asked, "Sir? Whats'yur middle name?"

"Where did that come from?"

"I was jus' thinkin' 'bout it earlier."

"Englebert Cumberpatch," he answered honestly.

She laughed. "It is not!"

"Actually, it's Lochlainn. It means lake-land."

"Oh. That makes sense. Thanks."

He smiled. "Alright, we've danced. Come sit with me."

She nodded and followed him to the bench. Plopping down ungracefully, she mumbled, "Ugh. 'm glad the ni'ts over."

"Why's that? Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, I did! It's just... I was really nerv's 'bout tonight, meetin' so many people an'... But when I saw you wi... I've done admitted I'm jealous, but... Fuck!"

He put his elbow over the back of the bench, leaned forward and cooed, "Say it, Gayle."

Shaking her head, she said, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I jus' can'."

"So, in your drunken logic, if you don't say it, you don't feel it?"

"Yeppers, exactamoondoe!"

"Ms. Boyce, I am giving you a direct order to tell me what the hell you are talking about."

Pushing herself up off the bench, she took a few steps towards the lake then turned around. Not keeping eye contact, she said, "'Cuz I dn't like wha' 'm feeling about... you, us."

Frowning because he didn't hear her, he stood beside her. "Could you repeat that?"

"You're evil! I t'ink I'm likin' you more than I should."

"Ah, is that all?"

She was relieved he didn't seem to make it a big deal, maybe because she was as drunk as she was. Laughing nervously, she said, "Thank god this conversation didn't happen tomorrow."

"It happened, Gayle, and I'm glad you told me."

She looked up at him terrified he would say the words back. "Ignore everything I said, Sir. I'm wasted and should never had said anything."

"I will not. Come on. Let's get you into bed."

He put his arm around her waist and led her up the path, Bessie following them instead of guiding them. Gayle drew a little woozy, so she leaned against him and rested her head in the crook of his arm.

Just as they reached the house, she gained a bit of her senses. Tearing away from him, she ran after Bessie, who, at seeing the house, went barking toward it. She began to sing at the top of her voice:

"I could have danced all night! I could have danced all night!

And still have begged for more.

I could have spread my wings and done a thousand things..."

She spread her arms out and flapped them a few times, taking small, careful steps. She saw Hamish shake his head. "Well, I am a butterfly!"

"Oh, dear god! Would you please shut it, Eliza Doolittle," Hamish mumbled, but he watched every move she made highly absorbed.

Later that night...

Hamish and Gayle had just gotten into his bed but didn't snuggle. He had given her a nasty-tasting drink of something that he claimed would help with her hangover she'd definitely have in the morning, but it hadn't helped prevent the bed spins.

Her head might have melded into the pillow, and she might have had a little headache, but she was still horny, amazingly enough. When they first got into bed, as much as she tried to get Hamish to kiss her, touch her, even gripped his cock and ran her hand up and down the shaft, he gently prodded her on her side of the bed and told her to go to sleep. He wasn't being cruel to her but insisted she was too drunk. In a way she respected him for it, though she couldn't help being a little bit angry.

Lying on her back and staring at the ceiling, she said, "Sir? Are you awake?"

"No," he grumbled.

"I had a won'erful time tonight."

He had been lying on his side staring at her profile in the moon's rays casting on her face. "So did I, Gayle."

"I think that drink you concocted worked."

"I knew it would."

A few minutes of silence passed between them. "Gayle? Are you awake?"

The bed shook with her laughter. "Yes Sir."

"Earlier, in my library, you said I wasn't wrong. What wasn't I wrong about?"

For a split second, she was afraid she'd imagined the whole thing, and he wasn't telling her what she thought he was telling her. "The song that was playin' when I first... the lyrics... Shit a brick. Never mind."

He was quiet for far too long, which told her she didn't imagining it at all. "You caught that, eh?"

She shot him a death glare. "That was a low blow," she mumbled sleepily. "Why'd you do it?"

"I wanted to find out if you'd say it first."

She sighed then yawned long and hard. "My confession at the lake... You do realize it doesn't count."

"Oh, it counts, Ms. Boyce. And if it makes you feel any better, my feelings for you have grown since I've gotten to know you. But you still have two punishments coming to you tomorrow."

She was silent for a moment. "Shit. Good night, Sir."

"Good night, my little fawn."