The Lancer Fanfiction Archive

subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link
subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link
subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link
subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link
subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link
subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link
subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link
subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link

Wendy K

 

 

Late

Delia woke to the sounds of softly splashing water and off key humming. As for the humming, she could’ve done without it. Her husband, God bless him, couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. The soft splashes, on the other hand, were very pleasant and made her think of lounging in bed and listening to the rain.

But the early morning sun peeking through the lace curtains meant that there would be no rain today and staying in bed was, alas, not really an option. The day started early here at Lancer, no matter what the weather was like.

Never having been much of a morning person, Delia stayed curled up under the blankets, the soft sound of water in her ears as she dozed. She had drifted blissfully in that half asleep state for an indeterminate amount of time when a cold drip of water on her nose startled her back to full wakefulness. Scott, clad in nothing but a pair of long john bottoms, was leaning over her with an impish grin on his handsome face. 

“Did you just flick water at me?” Delia demanded, grey eyes narrowed.

Scott ignored her question as he playfully slipped out of reach, leaving her hand grasping the empty air where he had been only moments before.

"No fair," she murmured. "Come back."

"Rise and shine, Sweetheart," Scott sing-songed. "Murdoch and Johnny are returning on the morning stage and they’re expecting us to pick them up," he reminded her as he pulled on a pair of snug dark trousers and buttoned them. Scott rubbed the towel through his damp hair before draping it over his bare shoulder and lathering himself for a shave.

"That stage has never been on time and you know it," Delia yawned. Snuggling deeper, her eyes roved over Scott’s strong back, and firm backside, as he stood in front of the mirror, sliding the razor across his chin in slow, careful strokes. Her husband was a mighty fine looking man. With a contented sigh, her eyes drifted closed again…

"Delia… Honey, please," Scott said, his deep voice sounding slightly put out. "We're going to be late if you don't get up soon." The bed creaked as he settled next to her, tugging gently at the covers.

Face buried in the pillows, her reply was muffled. "Delia's not here. Come back later."   

"You're worse than Johnny when it comes to waking up," he murmured as his lips ghosted over the creamy skin of her bare shoulder. Delia shifted away but his hands had slipped beneath the blankets to caress her hip.

"Do you make a habit of waking HIM up this way?" Delia laughed as she found herself alternately being tickled and kissed into wakefulness.

"Of course not," Scott murmured, nipping at her earlobe. “You’re the only one who gets this kind of ‘special’ attention. Besides, he’d shoot me if I tried.”

Her laughter tinkled from underneath the covers, which Scott was now half burrowed beneath. Delia tilted her head back to allow him access to her neck as she trailed her hands down his bare chest and stomach. He shifted his heavier weight over hers, mouth moving down to suck gently at the hollow of her throat.

"I thought you were worried about being late,” she gasped.

Scott’s only response was a distracted ‘hmmm’ as his lips drifted even lower and latched onto one pert nipple…..

 ~*~*~*~

One hour later….

"But what about breakfast?" Scott asked as they scurried down the stairs and out the door into the bright California morning.

"No time!" Delia blurted as she finished adjusting her bonnet and held out her hand to be helped into the surrey that Jelly had readied for them. "Hurry up. We’re going to be late…"

Scott just rolled his eyes as he climbed in after her and grabbed the reins, giving them a slap to get the horses moving. "Oh, sure...” he huffed. “NOW you’re worried about being late."

 

~end~

To Ready

Want to comment? Email Wendy K