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“Does your family also live in Australia?” I ask before the silence between us grows thicker.
“Nah. England and Canada.”
Jay takes my plate, cutlery, and mug along with his and disappears into the scullery.
“And you? I assume you were born here?” he asks as he saunters toward me.
I swallow hard knowing I don’t like answering questions about myself. “Erm. Yeah. You know where I live.” I shrug, trying not to come off too abrupt.
“And you have a brother?”
He folds his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to bulge. God, he is Bellissima!
“Yup. He’s in the army. He’s deployed at the moment and not allowed to tell us exactly where he is as he is part of some covert job.” I wave my hand in the air. I don’t want to talk about myself.
“Has there ever been anyone serious?”
His gaze deepens and the spot between my thighs heats up, but his words jab a spike of fear through me.
“Nope.” His question, like his confession, push a button I don’t want pushed. “I don’t do serious. Seen how it fucks people up. Mike’s girl decided she couldn’t wait for him. Broke him she did, and Mom and Dad.” I slip off my seat. “Don’t get me started.” The night he carried my drunk mother back to my cabin rushes back.
Jay doesn’t utter a word. He just stands, those paradise blue eyes of his burning into mine. A part of me hopes he’s thinking of spanking me again and another wishes he’d stop seeing something in me I don’t want to own.
It’s time to change the subject.
“I assume you’re renting?” I walk toward the doors.
It’s turning out to be another brilliant summer day. But I’m too tired to make an effort to spend it on the beach. I pull open one door and inhale the sticky salty air. His questions have me on edge. Was he making small talk or was he fishing? And why?
That gnawing internal voice returns. What are you still doing here? I should leave. I spin on my heel to find Jay standing, watching me. The look on his face is deep and determined. I recognize the desire in them. It reflects my own. I have to ignore it.
I will my legs to move, but he reaches out a hand and I take it. His grip is certain and his skin warm. A thrill runs up my arm and heads straight down to my nether regions. He leads us up the stairs to the main bedroom and I follow willingly, hungrily, cautiously.
“A shower.” We walk into the bathroom. “And then some rest.”
It’s not a question but a command. Something I’ve found he likes to do, and which strangely turns me on.
The bathroom is big and modern with a shower that is larger than my cabin. To my left sits a large oval bath and double basin opposite it. To the far end, a small door leads to a loo. The tiles look expensive, and the view from a large window built to only allow the residents to see out from is a million dollars. Jay wastes no time in getting undressed and then flipping on the water.
I haven’t moved. Half because my belly is full, and I am too tired to care, and half because I’m scared of what I’m getting myself in to. He tugs at the hem of my t-shirt and lifts it up and over my head, then undoes my jeans followed by my shoes, socks, and underwear.
The hot water soothes my aching muscles as it cascades over my head and shoulders. I close my eyes and revel in the feel of Jay’s hands as they spread soap over me. His hands linger on my breasts, and I lean my head back on him. His fingers trip over my tummy and dive between my thighs then around and onto my bum and down my legs.
He lets go and I almost fall over.
“Slowly now.” His voice is hoarse and his hard on presses into my back as he supports me.
Next, he washes my hair. His long, strong fingers massage my scalp as he works in the shampoo, and rinses. Turning me to face him, my eyelids flutter open. Jay’s hair hangs loose and the water glistens off his long, dark tresses. I raise my hands and cup his face. His beard is soaked and softer than usual. I push up on my toes and press my lips against his as his hands cup my bum and pull me into his erection. In all my life I’ve never experienced sensuality as I am in this moment. I want him, but not like before. I don’t need to fuck. The realization rocks me. It’s everything I told him I don’t want.
I pull away, but only slightly. “Make love to me,” I whisper, and a shrill of warning that I’m stepping into No-man’s-land runs up my spine, but I have no defenses against my impulsive need or this god smiling down at me.
Jay nods, twisting to switch off the water, then leading me out of the shower. He grabs a towel and pats me down. He drops the thick cotton fabric to the floor and sweeps me up into his arms. I’m surprised at his strength. I’m no lightweight.
My legs curl around his waist. He walks us to his bedroom, still damp from our shower, and lays me on his bed.
The plush feather doona poofs out beneath me and cradles me in absolute comfort as Jay straddles me and patiently loves every inch of my body.
