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“If you do it, I’m definitely not going to last,” he tells me, scrunching up his face before rolling on the condom. He kneels up and pushes me so I’m lying flat on the bed again, splayed out in front of him. But I don’t feel self-conscious, not in the slightest, instead I just feel safe. Wanted. Like every inch of me is exactly where it’s supposed to be, under his gaze.

He hovers above me, propped up on his hands.

“Definitely sure?” he asks.

“Definitely sure.” I reach up to cup his face, giving him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. His brown eyes bore into mine for a moment before he pushes in. The friction is exquisite .

Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I’m having sex with Tom. And I can’t believe it feels this good. I mean I knew it would be good, but this just feels right. I love the way he’s watching my face, almost reverently, and the way it feels like each thrust hits the perfect place. He pauses, before sliding out and back in again, seating himself deeper. I tilt my pelvis slightly and hook my legs around his waist.

Tom braces his weight above me and starts to piston his hips. I can feel my breath catching again. Whatever angle he’s managed to hit feels amazing, a drag in and out of me that sets my nerves on fire. Tom reaches down and hooks one of my legs over his arm and somehow gets even deeper. As I tug at his hair and he buries his head into my shoulder, my legs start to shake again.

“I’m close.” I claw at his back. “Yes, just like that.”

My stomach tenses again and then sensation shoots through me. I manage to keep my eyes open to watch his expression. He’s tilted back again, movements faster now, and his brow furrows, face contorting as his movement becomes more erratic. My arms squeeze tighter around his shoulders, and he moves faster still, burying his face back into my neck before he collapses on top of me.

After a few moments Tom presses a gentle kiss onto the side of my head. I focus on letting my heart rate settle. I’m still not sure I can formulate words. What has this man done to me? He’s essentially melted my brain.

His heartbeat thuds against my chest as he pants and all I can think is that I wish we had done this months ago.

Chapter 30

Tom

By the time we get around to cooking, it’s dark outside. We navigated our way into the kitchen via a trail of discarded clothes, smiling at each other as we picked up each item. My T-shirt is hanging from the lampshade for reasons neither of us can fully explain because I’m sure I took it off in the kitchen. Claire nearly trips over one of her shoes and would’ve face-planted onto a counter if I hadn’t caught her.

We fall into an easy rhythm as we cook, chopping, stirring, lightly bickering over garlic quantities. Claire’s easily converted to my opinion that the correct quantity of garlic is always double what the recipe says.

She looks completely at home, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, wearing one of my old school hoodies that hangs halfway down her thighs. It’s quite possible that I’ve never seen anything more distracting in my life.

“So…” I say, watching her stir the sauce, “what colour code do you send Sophia for this situation? Because I’m pretty sure we’ve moved past Red into… I don’t know, ultraviolet? And yes,” I hold up a hand as she turns to me in surprise, “I know about the text system, given that you once sent Kath a Code Red.”

Claire elbows me, trying not to smile.

“Or is there a special colour for ‘Claire is currently seducing a man through pasta’?”

Her cheeks go pink. “No comment.”

She turns back to the stove, and the steam curls around her face, softening the edges of her blush. A strand of hair escapes her messy bun and falls across her cheek. I take a moment to indulge in the fact that I can now reach out and brush it behind her ear, fingers lingering on her cheek. It’s a nice feeling.

“Focus on the cheese,” she tells me.

“As you wish.” I go back to grating the obscene amounts of parmesan she brought over.

There’s a loud thump and then suddenly Croissant appears from god knows where. He looks at Claire, and then flops dramatically onto his side again. The problem is, he knows he’s irresistible. I can’t see him and not pet him, and clearly neither can Claire.

She immediately crouches down beside him and he stretches luxuriously, purring even more loudly than before.

“I fed him before you arrived,” I tell her. “He’s trying to manipulate you.”

“How could you say that, Tom? He’s a precious perfect boy.”

I just shake my head at her. Oh dear. He’s got her too.

We eat at my little kitchen table, legs brushing.

“So.” Claire twirls spaghetti around her fork. “I realised James saw us this morning, has he been teasing you all day?”

“He may have observed that I sat in the doorway of my tent for two full minutes and four seconds this morning staring wistfully into the distance.”