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“Unless waiting for me isn’t a hardship.” I tease very softly.
“Elodie.” He warns, but his voice has dropped several registers and gone gravelly. “You’re playing with fire.”
Fire. Yes, that’s the word. I can’t take my eyes off him, all warm golden skin and dishevelled hair falling over his forehead. The desire to thread my fingers through it is an actual ache.
“I don’t think you understand,” he says at last. And his voice has dropped again, it’s little more than a hoarse whisper.
“Then explain it to me.” I push my chair back slowly and stand up. “Unless you want me to go home.” My heart races, I can barely breathe.
“Oh, I want… I want to…” He gets up, his face flushed. “I want you to…” then he blows a long breath through his parted lips. “I want you.”
And then I’m in his arms and we are kissing and stumbling through the small space, banging into things, knocking chairs down, pulling off each other’s clothes.
Hal is that man of opposites again, savage and gentle at the same time. He’s urgent when he lifts me in his arms and we fall together on his bed. Yet, he slows down enough to joke and make me laugh when he searches for the condoms he bought yesterday.
His love making is wild, untamed yet careful and sensitive, holding my body like a precious object.
chapter Thirty-Four
Hal
“Your home is very clean.” Elodie stretches slowly across the bed, and my thoughts go scattering.
Usually, in my past experience, the first time a couple sleep together is never perfect. They’re still trying to work each other out and learn the language of each other's bodies. But with Elodie, it feels as if we've done this before, as if we've known each other for years and yet, it's still new and exciting. So exciting that seeing her lazy stretch, the way the sheets fall off her, makes my blood thunder in my ears.
“Cover yourself up, you witch. We need to talk, and if you keep doing this, I’ll have to ravish you again.”
“Oh, yes please. You’re very good at the ravishing.” She nuzzles my neck and again my thoughts sway like a ship on rough seas.
This woman. Oh Christ, this woman.
Her touch, the smell of her skin and the sounds she makes in bed are the closest to Nirvana I’ve ever been. Ecstasy and insanity, both.
This second time, lovemaking leaves me feeling a little shaky as if there’s no ground beneath my feet.
It’s what worries me.
“What are you thinking?” She whispers later.
“Nothing.”
“Why do men always say they’re thinking about nothing?”
“Because.” I can’t help smiling. “We don’t usually think much.”
She turns on to her side and lays her head on my chest with a contented sigh.
It’s a lie, I’m thinking very hard, or as hard as I can think, given the circumstances. I’m far too ‘into her’. Not just the sex, but the way she changes me, brings out another man I never knew I could be. A man who feels things. A man who gets excited about things. Who wants to talk and talk and talk. And to listen to her talking.
What happens if things go wrong?
Whenthings go wrong.
“You didn’t speak to your grandfather, did you?” I ask, hating myself for ruining the moment.
She doesn’t answer right away which is answer enough. I don’t have the will to argue so I just stroke her back, her shoulder blade, her arm.
“I tried,” she says at last
