From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 35

Nat

"Things are crazy down here at the station", Doug stated the obvious. He was working himself to the bone since the blackout, still he found time to call me and check out if we needed anything. I'd been avoiding using my phone, so its battery could last longer. It was worth using my last 2% of battery talking things over with Doug, though. "I wish I could go there and talk, Nat. I hate arguing with you."

"I know, me too", I was being honest. I hated how we'd left things at the Hamptons. "But you don't have to worry about me, okay? You and I are fine. Just go do your thing."

As if I were guessing trouble was near, I heard someone yell his name on the other side of the line. "Sorry, Nat. I've gotta go. Love you."

He hung up before I could say it back. Since the blackout, New York had become a modern version of the Old West, crimes had hiked and the police force was going nuts to control the robberies. D.C. had even sent the Army, according to Doug. Thinking non-stop about Doug's safety, I just couldn't sleep, turning in bed annoyingly. So I pushed back the cover and left my bed.

Deciding to get myself some milk, I went to the kitchen ninja quiet so I wouldn't wake anyone. The lack of electricity had many side effects, one of which was making the city that never sleeps dead quiet. I felt like if I screamed "hello", someone in Brooklyn might hear me out.

I almost yelled for help when I saw a dark figure leaning against the kitchen island, but I soon recognized its owner: Darcy. Not only him, but this was a shirtless Darcy. Black hair dripping wet. Eyes wide. Mouth full of... Chantilly?

I spent a few moments daydreaming about licking that Chantilly off his full lips, before I mentally kicked myself where the sun does not shine and returned to reality.

A reality with a wet, half-naked Darcy.

Oh, my sweet Rosemary baby!

"Darcy", I called when I got control of my voice, "What do you think you are doing?!" As he looked at me, his blue eyes widened further, and he smiled broadly. Then he took a few steps closer, and I noticed something the candlelight hadn't made it possible to see from afar: his eyes were reddish.

"My Nat!", he exclaimed passionately, a lot louder than necessary. I remembered being about to ask him something, something related to his red eyes and strange behavior, but my thoughts melted away when he called me by my nickname with so much desire in his voice. It sounded like he hadn't seen me years, and had missed every second away. Wow.

Before I could move, both his hands were touching me; one was caressing my cheek, the other holding me close to him by the nape of the neck. "My Nat! You smell divine! My deepest desire is to smell that on my bed every morning!" WHAT?! Mr. Perfectly Behaved Darcy was inviting me to his bed? And I was not denying?

His hand surprised me again by moving gingerly from my cheek to my mouth, while his head hovered closer to my face. I could feel his breath on my face now. He was smelling of Chantilly, of course, but there was another distinct odor as well. Was it... Pot? No way! Was he high?

"Darcy", I forced my way out of his reach, which made the parts of my skin he'd been touching itch for his hands to be back, "did you smoke something?"

"As a matter of fact, I shared a smoke with your brother. We were having a gentlemanly conversation." He didn't seem to enjoy the distance between us either, and took a step closer. I took another one away from him, even though a part of my mind (the wicked part) kept begging me to just relax and get lost in his arms.

"Oh, really? What exactly did you smoke with my brother during your 'gentlemen chit chat'?", I made air quotes with my fingers, since it was ridiculous.

"A cigar called marijuana." I knew it! Bobby was so busted! "It is from a very respectful place called Pot."

Wow, Darcy must have smoked a lot, because he was making no sense whatsoever.

"You are the handsomest woman I have ever beheld." A statement like that would have sounded like bullsheet from anyone, but him. I could hear the emotion in his voice, see the desire in his eyes, and feel the heat from his skin.

My eyes were leveled with his torso, and now I was staring directly at his chest. He had broad shoulders, a lean waist and hairy chest. I swear I could feel that hair under my fingers, that was how desperately I wanted to touch it, touch him. I bit back the desire and glanced back to his eyes. Big mistake. Huge.

He held my face with both his hands and came closer. When his lips were about to touch mine, the electricity returned. And, along with it, my neurons.

I moved away, wished him good night, and left the kitchen without turning back.

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