Page 35 of Secret Paths

I grip her hips and follow her over, burying myself deep as I come.

For a moment, neither of us moves.

Then Mandy lowers herself onto the mattress.

I follow, catching my weight on one arm.

Her breathing is still uneven.

So is mine.

Her hand finds mine beside her head.

Our fingers link.

Neither of us says anything about it.

That would make it mean something.

Chapter 4

Mandy

An arm across my waist wakes me.

It is heavy and warm, pinning the duvet to my stomach, and for several foggy seconds I cannot work out why I cannot turn over. Then I feel the slow breath against the back of my neck and the solid weight of a chest at my spine.

Peter.

The rest comes back in fragments. His mouth. His hands. Him saying he would leave after five minutes. Me apparently falling asleep before I could remind him of that promise.

Carefully, I shift enough to look over my shoulder.

Peter makes a quiet sound into the pillow, then opens one eye.

“Morning.”

“Why are you still here?”

He opens the other. “That is a surprisingly hostile first question.”

“I thought you would have left.”

“I considered it.”

“And?”

“At some point, I woke up.” His hand moves once over my waist, then stills. “You were tucked into me, and I liked having you in my arms.”

For a second, I have no useful response.

“That is not the sort of thing you say before coffee.”

His mouth twitches. “Would you prefer I lie?”

“I would prefer coffee.”

“Practical. I should have known.”