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In less than a minute, I fall asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Huxley
I’m feeling drowsy. I promised Elizabeth I’d make love to her four or five times, but the after-sex hormones are roaming through my system, and my body is telling me,You’re not as young as you used to be, Hux.
I kiss her ear and nuzzle her neck. She smells warm and chocolatey, and I smile as I think of all the places I’ve licked the drops from.
Then something about her deep, even breathing makes me lift my head and look at her.
She’s asleep.
I guess we were more energetic than I realized. Plus of course the good food and the alcohol have played a part, too. I think about waking her, but she works hard, and it’s rare for her to take time off to have fun. Regarding the baby making, I know that it doesn’t really matter how many times we have sex, providing we did it when she was ovulating. I should let her sleep.
Settling down, I wonder whether I should give her some space, but as I go to lift my arm she pulls it tighter to her.
Smiling, I close my eyes, and in a few minutes I doze off, too.
*
I rouse sometime later and look around in the semi-darkness, puzzled. The room is filled with starlight. Then I remember: I’m on Waiheke Island, with Elizabeth.
I tap my watch—it says 2:47 a.m. I’m lying on my side, and she’s curled up in my arms, facing me. Our legs are entwined, and our arms are wrapped around each other. We couldn’t get any closer if we tried.
Well, possibly a little closer. I smile and kiss the top of her head. Maybe I’ll wake her in a while and see if she’s up for a nighttime lovin’ spoonful.
But right now, I just want to enjoy having her in my arms.
She’s small and slender, almost fragile, although she’s stronger than she looks. She’s taken tai chi and jiu jitsu classes in the past, and she’s embarrassed me by putting me in an arm lock I can’t get out of. Despite her height, she’s pretty good at tennis, and she can also beat me around an eighteen-hole golf course. She likes dancing and can moonwalk almost as well as Michael Jackson himself. She’s fucking smart, and she knows a hundred chemistry mnemonics that she spent a good portion of her last year at university reciting. She taught me the rhyme to remember the first twenty elements of the periodic table, something about ‘Here He Lies Beneath Bed Clothes’, Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium… I’ve already forgotten, but she can recite it all.
Of course, she’s not perfect. She can’t hold a tune. She’s impatient, and she’s not afraid to speak her mind, which often leads to her and Mack having arguments with lots of yelling. I’ve learned it’s better to walk out and leave them to it than to try and calm them down. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly. She’s not great at relaxing, and doesn’t have any hobbies that I know of, but then neither do I apart from the archery—both of us work all hours under the sun, and when we have any spare time, we either prod ourselves into going to the gym or crash in front of a movie.
But she’s whole-hearted, feisty, and fearless, and is never cowed by any man, which I love. I adored her when I first met her, and I adore her now.
And I might have made her pregnant. I stroke her back, thinking about my sperm swimming up inside her to get to the egg. Come on, little fellas. I want to do this for her. I imagine the baby—my baby—forming inside her, growing slowly. It makes my stomach flip. I’d hate anyone else to do this for her. I honestly think I’d kill them with my bare hands.
Her skin is so soft, and silky smooth. I trail my fingers down her spine to her tailbone, and circle them in the little dimple there.
“If you’re thinking of heading any further south, please give me some warning,” she murmurs.
I chuckle. “I thought you were asleep.”
“And decided to cop a sneaky feel?”
“Carpe noctem.”
She laughs and lifts her head, and I give her a long, lingering kiss.
“What time is it?” she asks eventually.
“Nearly three a.m.”
“Mmm. I’d better let out some of that whisky.” She goes to get up.
I tighten my arms around her. “Not yet,” I tell her, nuzzling her ear.
“Why?”
