Dreamily

T'Len

2006

 

 

 

Series: The Persuaders

Rating: PG-15

Codes: Danny/Brett, Humor

Summary: A night with the Lord which Daniel Wilde will not forget soon.

Feedback: tlen11@freenet.de

 

Disclaimer: This story’s mine, but I do not intend to touch the rights of the owner of the characters I’ve used. No moneymaking, no offence meant. English is not my native language, so please be patient with my mistakes. Thanks to Lady Charena for the beta. For all remaining errors, blame me.

 

 

 

"Hm, darling, you smell so good. and you taste so good, too." These words whispered into his ear accompanied by a tenderly nibbling at his earlobe woke Danny.

 

“Exactly my opinion, sweetheart...” The words died in his mouth, as he realized with whom he shared the bed. On the way to a Scottish village at the end of the world where his Lordship planned to inherit something from on old aunt, the Ferrari had lost his spirit. More accurately said a tyre had lost his air.

 

Unfortunately the spare wheel had vanished miraculously without leaving any note about his whereabouts. So they stranded tyre- and helpless in an country inn, which looked inside like his furniture had not changed since King Anthur’s times and which only had one bedrooom. So his Lordship and himself had to share the bed until tomorrow a new wheel would arrive.

 

"You make me quite hot," Lord Brett Sinclair whispered just into Danny’s ear.

 

Wilde mumbled: “Which beauty is spooking trough the royal dreams?” as Brett’s hands began to wander over his body.

 

“Will we do it?” The unmistakably hardness which just pressed itself against his behind convinced Danny that the only chair in the room an the second glance looked much more comfortable then he had thought originally.

 

He pulled the blanket with him as he rose. Brett after all was hot enough.

 

///

 

"Ah, I’m marvellously well rested." Brett opened the window and did some stretching exercises in front of it.


”Not so loudly,” mumbled a sleepy Danny from his armchair, followed by a loud moan. He had made the unpardonable mistake to move his tense muscles.

 

"Why have you slept in the armchair?" Brett asked.

 

"Because you’re blue blood was boiling me a bit too much last night,”  Danny answered. "Who was the fair-haired goddess who wandered through your noble dreams and made them foam?”

 

"Fair-haired goddess?" Brett asked astonished.

 

"Red-haired or black or brown or green or yellow or what ever.”

 

Brett shook his head. Sometimes Danny really talked in mysteries but he was used to it meanwhile and tended to just ignore it. He went in the direction of the small, very small to be correct, bath. "I don't know what you’re talking about. I only have dreamt of you.”

 

Danny stared at the door which had closed behind Lord Sinclair for a long time and for once he really was speechless.

 

End