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I lift a little in the seat, kissing him gently, slowly, sliding my tongue into his mouth and duelling with his, lifting my hand to the nape of his neck and running my fingers into his hair, drawing him closer, holding him there. One of us moans but I don’t know if it’s him or me. I just know I want to hold him right there, like this, breathing him in, tasting him, losing myself to him. Just for now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘YOU COULD COME, if you want.’ The second I make the offer I wonder what the hell I was thinking. Inviting Zach Papandreo to a Christmas Eve lunch at my parents’? It would be like throwing him to the piranhas. My dad’s friends would swarm him, for sure.
‘I think I’d like that.’ He grins, that sexy, dishevelled grin of his, and my heart skips a beat. Steam from the shower envelops his body, and my eyes follow his hands as he soaps his shoulders. ‘But I’ve got plans.’
‘Oh?’ I push my robe apart and let it drop to the ground, then step into the shower with him. His grin widens as he pulls me closer, holding me to his muscled frame.
‘Mmm.’
‘What have you got to do today, hmm?’
He drops his head and nips at my lips, his hands on my hips possessive and familiar. In the back of my mind, there’s an oppressive darkness I try to ignore.
Two nights.
In two nights this will be over. A trip I was dreading has gone so ridiculously fast. I can’t actually believe that we have fewer than forty-eight hours left.
I push the thoughts away, not wanting to focus on them.
‘I’m meeting Dimitrios and Max.’
It takes me a second to join the dots. ‘Your nephew?’
‘Yeah.’ He lifts the bottle of fragranced body gel from the shelf and puts some in his hands, then begins to lather it over my body.
‘That sounds...like...fun...’ My words emerge breathy as his hands move lower, curving the roundedness of my butt, then lower, so he has to crouch to wash my legs, trailing his fingers over my thighs, my ankles, then back up to my hips, still with him crouching at my feet. He looks up at me, the shower water making his head a dark pelt, his eyes swirling with things I can’t interpret and a second later his mouth comes to my sex, his tongue flicking my clit so that I whimper at the sensual touch. His hands push my hips wider and I take a step backwards, my back pressing against the cool tiles, my eyes squeezing shut as water douses me, running over me.
Two more nights of this—senseless orgasms, mind-blowing sex, pleasure that explodes through me. I don’t think about the fact that most of my time i
s going to be taken up by my family now. I don’t think about anything except how good Zach is at this, and how much I love being with him.
* * *
‘What about clothes?’ I suggest, feeling as if I’m the worst person in the world to help my brother choose a Christmas present for his wife. I’m not exactly a ‘present giving’ kind of guy. I don’t think I even bought anything for Emily and we were—in love? It wasn’t love. I know that now.
‘Mummy has tons of clothes,’ Max says with a shake of his head.
‘Sounds like you’ve got all the help you need,’ I point out with a grin and Dimitrios chuckles.
‘Oh, Max has got lots of ideas.’
We walk in silence a little way, with the exception of the occasional slurp of hot chocolate as Max drinks.
‘She’s mad about Christmas,’ Dimitrios says after a while, seeming a little distracted. ‘And you know that’s not really my—our—thing. I know we need to get her something but I’ve no idea what.’
Honestly, I’m fascinated by this. I’ve never seen Dimitrios into a woman before. He’s like ice man, completely focussed on business. Annie’s under his skin though, and his frustration at not knowing what to buy her is evidence of how much he cares.
‘Well, what if it’s not a gift so much as an experience.’
‘What does that even mean?’
I think about that. ‘You guys have just got married. You’re a family. What about a new family tradition, something you can share each Christmas after this one? Maybe you buy a puzzle and do that together each Christmas day.’ I think about Jessica and the stories she’s told me about her family and the baking they do, the way that reminds them of their extended family each Christmas. ‘Or what about a Christmas pudding? Does she have a recipe she makes each year?’
‘Nope,’ Max chimes in. ‘We sometimes get a bit of pudding from our neighbours upstairs.’
Beside me, Dimitrios stills, and when I look at him I see something in his expression that haunts me. Torment. He looks guilty as fuck. I nudge him with my shoulder, understanding as no one else can.
