AllFreeNovel
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She’s glorious. Naked, of course, and without shame, but I want to serve her breakfast in bed. The first of many.
I spread the napkin over her knees and realize that there’s no way I can serve everything at once, so I begin with the main course, then stack the toast on her side table. “Tea or coffee?”
“I see bubbly.”
I smile as I ease the cork from the bottle and pour her a glass. “Lashings and lashings of champagne, I believe you said?”
Her cheeks flush sunrise pink, the color that heats her when we are making love, but she divides her portion in half, pouring champagne into my water glass, and then adds orange juice to her champagne. “It’s called a Buck’s fizz over here and a mimosa back in the States, but the important thing is it means we’re not day drinking.”
I add orange juice to my tumbler of champagne and raise my glass. “To the woman who makes all things bearable. Even exile in a foggy, foreign field.”
She’s blushing even more, but she sips anyway. “Why don’t the English blink?”
“They don’t blink?”
“Frightened they’ll miss summer!” She chuckles. I’m not sure why, but if she’s happy, I’m happy. She lowers her bacon onto her toast and folds it over. “Do you want weather jokes or sex jokes?”
No contest. “Sex jokes.” In fact, she could say anything. To watch her talk is sublime, the curve of her neck, the way her lips are always in motion, the crinkle at the side of her eyes. She’s a very emotive talker. Not very British in my experience.
“What do you get when you cross a cock and a potato?”
I have no idea.
“A dictator.” She almost chokes laughing, which in turn makes me laugh, even though the pun is lost on me.
“What do you call a herd of cows masturbating?”
“Clever?” I have to at least try to join in.
She puts her bacon toast down and reaches for me. “I love that you totally committed yourself to that answer. But no.”
“Doble articulación…” I flex my wrist both ways to illustrate my meaning.
She explodes laughing. “That’s superb. Double-jointed. I mean, I guess I’ll give you that one!” She holds out her glass and I pour. “We’re out of OJ, so top me up.”
“Shall I order more?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve got plans for you that don’t include the bellhop knocking on our door.”
I like the sound of that. Very much.
She moves her plate from the bed. “Beef Strokin’ Off.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s the cow joke, but don’t worry about it.” She flips onto all fours and crawls over the bed, her ass high in the air. “How did the sperm cross the road?”
“The sperm?”
“It wore the wrong sock.”
The last of my Buck’s fizz arcs out of my mouth and onto her. That one needs no translation. Even Argentinian boys know not to wear the starched sock.
“Lie back.” She pushes my chest.
I don’t resist.
“Jam or butter?”
