AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Come for me.” She begins to move on top of me again, and I close my eyes as pleasure spirals through me. “Come on, baby,” she murmurs, teasing my lips with hers as the rock of her hips drives me in and out of her. “Let me hear those wonderful deep groans. Let me feel your muscles tighten as you come inside me.”
There’s no stopping it now—her body is slim and soft and warm in my hands, all sensual curves and dips, and she’s so warm and wet, and I don’t have to claw my way to a climax, I just have to lean back and relax against the sofa cushions and let it wash over me in wonderful waves. It feels amazing, my muscles tightening deep inside, and her mouth is on mine, drinking in my gasps of pleasure, my body jerking and pulsing what feels like a dozen times, before it finally calms.
I open my eyes and look straight into hers
“Hello,” she says, and kisses my nose.
“Hey.” I sigh.
“Missed you,” she says, and then she nestles against me, with me still inside her, and we sit like that for a long time, making the most of just being as one.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alice
The next day passes in a kind of dream. It feels surreal having Kip here in Gisborne, in my house. Whenever he walks into the room, my eye is drawn to him, as if he’s too big for the room, like he’s taken a bite from the ‘Eat Me’ cake and grown to twice his normal size.
At first I was anxious about what he was going to think of the house in particular, and my life in general. I was nervous he was going to be bored and restless. Although we spent three days together at his place, when we weren’t in bed, we were busy. Here, of course, much of my day is devoted to looking after Mum. On the first morning, we all have breakfast together out on the deck, but then it’s time to help Mum get washed and dressed, and I come back into the living room expecting to find him on his phone or laptop. Instead, I discover him lying on the sofa, listening to one of our Pink Floyd albums on the record player, reading.
“Having a nice rest?” I ask, dropping to my knees by his side.
“Mm. This is good.” He shows me the cover of a sci-fi novel I recommended.
“I thought you’d like it.”
He puts the book on his chest and looks at me, lips curving up. “Oh, you think you know me, do you?”
I lean over him and kiss him. “I’m getting there.”
He slides a hand to the back of my neck and holds me there, and we have a long, leisurely kiss. When he eventually lets me go, I study his face while he strokes my cheek, and I sigh. “I wish we could spend all day in bed.”
“Me too. But anticipation is half the delight, remember.” He kisses my nose. “What are we up to today?”
“As the weather’s nice, I thought we might go for a walk along the waterfront.”
“Sounds great. Come on, then.”
Mum’s all ready, and we make our way out to the car. I don’t want him to feel as if he has to help me look after her at all, which I’m sure she’d hate anyway, but without asking he folds up the wheelchair and lifts it into the back of the car while I help her in. When we get to the waterfront, we stop to buy an ice cream, and when I take our rubbish to the bin, I come back to find that he’s pushing Mum, and they’re chatting away. I walk beside him, touched by his attentiveness and care for her. For some reason I hadn’t expected that.
After a couple of hours and a stop in a café for lunch, the fresh air has worn Mum out, and when we return home I take her into her room for an afternoon nap. I come out, half expecting him to drag me into my bedroom, and I wouldn’t complain if he did. But instead I discover he’s making us both a cup of tea. We take it into the living room and sit on the sofa, he pulls me into his arms, and we drink our tea while we chat about the morning. Then he puts our cups on the table, and he turns me and lies back so we’re squidged together on the sofa. He kisses me for a while, and then he hugs me, and we snooze together, wrapped around each other, his breath warming my forehead, and my lips an inch from the hollow at the base of his throat.
The weather turns in the afternoon, rain pooling on the deck and making the flowers wilt, so when Mum gets up, we sit up at the table, put some music on, and play cards for a couple of hours. We start with Rummy and Blackjack, and we teach Kip Solo Whist, and he teaches us Poker, which we’re terrible at, meaning he wins all the coins from our spare change pot. Then we go into the kitchen, and Mum sits at the table and crochets while Kip helps me make dinner—crispy chili chicken, with chicken strips marinated in dark soy sauce, garlic, ginger paste, and sesame oil, dipped in egg and corn-starch and fried in a wok with spring onions, and stirred into a sauce made from honey, lemon juice, dark soy sauce, and sriracha.
After we’ve eaten, we watch a movie together. It feels strange to sit on the sofa with Kip instead of in my armchair. And it’s odd to cuddle up to him in front of Mum. I feel anxious about showing my true feelings for him in front of her, worried it’s only going to increase her fear that she’s holding me back. But Kip is relaxed, happy to include her in the conversation, and she seems to enjoy his presence, so in the end I try to stop the gnawing fear inside me and just enjoy the moment of being with two of my favorite people in the world.
When she gets tired and says it’s time for her to go to bed, Kip gets up to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I take her into her room, and as I help her into her nightie, she says, “He’s wonderful, Alice. You make sure you hold onto him. Whatever it takes.”
“I’ll try,” I say, not quite sure ‘whatever it takes’ means.
I told Kip earlier that I need to spend half an hour answering a few emails and posting on social media about my upcoming interviews on Wonderland, and he said that he should catch up on his emails too. So when I go back out into the living room, he collects his laptop, and we pour ourselves a glass of wine and go into the studio. He sits on my spare chair, props up his feet, and works quietly while I record a video for TikTok and post on Insta and Facebook. I tell him about what I’m planning to read next, and he tells me about the latest email he’s had from Helen from Craig’s lawyers, and we talk for a while, just chatting the same way we do when we’re messaging, asking each other’s advice and sounding off.
It strikes me that actually we’re very good friends first and foremost, almost before we’re lovers. Maybe that’s because although we looked at each other’s photos, our first connection was via messages, talking about things we had in common. Or perhaps it’s just that I feel comfortable in his company, able to open up about the things I feel passionate about or I’m worried about, and I know he’s going to have good advice, or at least be able to make me feel better in some way.
But that doesn’t mean our connection is purely cerebral. He’s put down his laptop and we’ve been talking for a while when I lean forward to pick up my pen after dropping it, and his voice trails off mid-sentence. I sit back up and raise an eyebrow at him, and he says, “Sorry. You gave me a view right down your cleavage and it distracted me.”
I inhale, and something shifts between us, as if the temperature in the room has risen sharply by a few degrees. Our gazes meet, and his lips slowly curve up as he tucks a foot beneath my office chair, which is on wheels, and pulls it toward him.
I laugh and let him pull me up, and I sit astride him on the chair, settling onto his lap and looping my arms around his neck. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of you while I was in this room,” I murmur, rubbing my nose against his.
