by Fiona Lowe
His keen gaze studied her and for a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to ask her more questions. Questions she didn’t want to answer. Information she never wanted him to know.
He wrapped his arms gently around her and pulled her into him, pressing a kiss to her forehead. ‘As much as I find the out-of-control Lily a huge turn-on and sex in a car and on a kitchen counter reminds me I’m not past spontaneity, I want to make love to you in a bed. I want to be able to see you and touch you without the risk of either of us getting injured. I want your first time in a long time to be special.’
She hastily dropped her head onto his chest, hiding an errant tear that had squeezed out of her eye and was spilling down her cheek. Oh, Noah, why do you have to be so caring? But before she could overthink things he ran them down the hall to the bedroom.
‘Sorry,’ he said with an embarrassed grin as he pulled her into the room. ‘I’d have made the bed if I’d thought I had a chance of being in it with you.’
She laughed. ‘I only make mine on laundry day.’
‘But I bet you do hospital corners.’ He whipped off his shirt. ‘I believe we were up to here when we hit pause.’
She gazed at his taut abdominal muscles, delineated pecs and a smattering of brown hair and sighed. ‘I remember.’
‘You’re overdressed.’ As his hands tugged on the hem of her shirt she raised her arms and let him pull it off. ‘As much as I love pretty underwear, this has to go as well.’ His fingers flicked the hooks on her bra and the straps fell across her shoulders.
As she stood there half-naked in the afternoon light without the cover of darkness, she suddenly felt extremely vulnerable and exposed. She dived for the bed, pulling at the sheet for cover, but it came away in her hand. ‘And you don’t do hospital corners at all, do you?’
He laughed. ‘Obviously not very well but that’s in my favour today.’ He rolled her under him, gazing at her appreciatively. ‘No hiding your beauty under sheets, Lily.’ He lowered his mouth to her left breast and suckled her.
A flash of need—hot, potent and addictive—whooshed through her so fast and intense that she cried out and her hands rose to grip his shoulders.
He paused and raised his head, a slight frown on his face. ‘You okay.’
‘More than okay.’
His smile encapsulated his entire face. ‘Excellent, but tell me if something’s not working for you.’
He was killing her with kindness and she didn’t know how to respond so she did what she always did when she got scared—she took control. Pulling his head down to her mouth, she kissed him, only this time he kissed her back. Hot, hard, sensual and electrifying, his mouth ranged over hers while his hands woke up the rest of her body.
She was hot but shivery, boneless with need yet taut with it too. She wanted his touch to go on for ever and at the same time she screamed for release. She ran her fingers through his hair, down his spine and across his hips. She soaked him in—the strength of his muscles, the hardness of his scapula, the dips between his ribs, the rough and smooth of his skin—all of him. Her legs tangled with his until he’d moved down her body and she could no longer reach them. By the time his mouth reached the apex of her thighs, she was writhing in pleasure, burning with bliss and aching in emptiness.
‘Noah.’
He raised his head. ‘Yes?’
‘As much as I appreciate your focused ministrations, I feel I owe you after last time.’
‘No hurry,’ he said lazily. ‘We’ve got all afternoon.’ He dropped his head and his tongue flicked her.
Her pelvis rose from the bed as her hands gripped the edge of the mattress. ‘What … what if I want to hurry?’
‘You sure?’ His voice was as ragged as hers.
‘God, yes.’
He moved, reaching for a condom, but she got there first. ‘Let me.’
‘Next time,’ he grunted, plucking the foil square out of her hand.
‘How do you want to do this?’
‘I want to see you.’
She cupped his cheek. ‘So do I.’
She tilted her hips and with her guidance he slowly moved into her. Slick with need, she welcomed him with a sob. ‘I’d forgotten how good it could feel.’
‘Let me remind you.’
He kissed her softly and she wrapped her legs high around his hips, moving with him, feeling him sliding against her, building on every delicious sensation he’d created previously with his mouth and hands. She spiralled higher and higher towards a peak that beckoned. Pleasure and pain morphed together and she screamed as she was flung far out of herself. Suspended for a moment in waves of silver and grey, she hovered before falling back to the real world.
Noah, moving over her, his face taut with restraint and his breath coming hard and fast, finally shuddered against her. She wrapped her arms around him as he came and she realised with a jolt that, once again, he’d put her needs first. No man had ever done that for her once, let alone twice.
It’s just sex, remember.
It could only ever be sex.
Noah’s blood pounded back to his brain and he quickly realised his limp and satiated body was at risk of flattening Lily. He kissed her swiftly on the lips, before rolling off her and tucking her in beside him. ‘That was wonderful. Thanks.’
‘Right back at you.’ Her fingers trailed down his sternum.
He drew lazy circles on her shoulder. ‘So how long has it been?’
‘If I told you that I’d lose my air of mystery,’ she said lightly.
Her tone didn’t match the sudden tension around her mouth. ‘Fair enough.’ He wanted to know what was going on but most of him didn’t want to lose the golden glow that cocooned them both. ‘Let me just say, though, for the record, you haven’t forgotten a thing.’
She gave a snort of embarrassed laughter. ‘Thank you, I think.’
‘I can’t believe you’re blushing,’ he teased her. ‘You’re a conundrum, Lil.’
Her body went rigid. ‘Don’t ever call me that.’
Like the strike of an open palm against skin, her tone burned. ‘Duly noted.’
She sighed and pressed a kiss to his chest. ‘I’m sorry. I just hate that contraction of my name. It’s so short that it’s over before it’s started. All my friends call me Lily.’
He wasn’t exactly certain what he was to her or what he wanted to be. Lover? Yes. Colleague? Yes. ‘Do I qualify as a friend?’
‘A friend with benefits.’
A zip of something resembling relief whizzed through him with an intensity that surprised him. Usually, at this point, the snuggling with a woman was starting to stifle him and he was already planning his exit strategy.
‘I need the bathroom,’ she said, sitting up with her back to him.
Jagged, pale pink scars zigzagged over her shoulder and across her back. He automatically reached out to touch them. ‘What happened here?’
She flinched then utterly stilled.
‘Lily?’
‘I fell through a plate-glass window. I’ll be right back.’ He expected her to elaborate on how the accident had happened but she didn’t say anything more. He watched her disappear into the bathroom. When she returned and kissed him soundly, he totally forgot to ask.
Lily was pottering around the kitchen, supposedly cooking an omelette—something she did most Sunday nights—only tonight she was struggling to remember how to do it. She was struggling to remember anything prosaic and everyday. Usually by this time on a Sunday evening she had her list drawn up for the coming week, her work clothes washed and ironed, and if a baby wasn’t on the way she was ready to sit down and relax.
Not tonight. Every time she tried to focus on something her brain spun off, reliving Noah’s mouth on her body and his gentle hands on her skin—and they were always gentle—yet they could make her orgasm with an intensity she’d never experienced. Sure, she’d had sex before, thought it had been good even, and then when everything with Trent had start
ed to change in ways she’d never anticipated—irrevocably and devastatingly final—it had taken the joy of sex with it.
It was a shock to discover she now craved sex with a passion that scared her. To crave sex was one thing—and in one way she was fine with that. What she didn’t want was to crave Noah. She didn’t want to crave any man because it left her wide open to way too much pain and grief.
Don’t overthink this. Like Noah said, it’s just temporary and for fun. It has a definite end date in less than two weeks when life returns to normal. Enjoy it and bank it for the rest of your life.
And she was enjoying it. They’d spent Saturday afternoon in bed and then she’d been called in to deliver a baby. Noah had visited the midwifery unit on Sunday morning to do the mother and baby discharge check and had brought with him pastries from the bakery and coffee he’d made himself. Once they’d waved goodbye to the Lexingtons and their gorgeous baby, they’d taken a walk along the beach and ended up in his bed. Again.
Distracted, she stared at the egg in her hand before glancing into the bowl, consciously reminding herself how many eggs she’d already cracked. The ding-dong of the doorbell pealed, its rousing noise rolling through the house. Before she could say, ‘I wonder who that is?’ her grandfather called out, ‘I’ll get it.’
A moment later she heard, ‘Hello, Doc.’
Her hand closed over the egg and albumen oozed through her fingers. Noah? What was he doing here?
His deep and melodic voice drifted down the hall, friendly and polite. ‘Call me Noah, Bruce.’
‘Right-oh. Come on in, then.’ Footsteps made the old floorboards creak and then her grandfather called out, ‘Lily, you’ve got a visitor.’
By the time she’d washed her egg-slimed hand, Noah’s height and breadth was filling the small kitchen. ‘Uh, hi,’ she said, feeling ridiculously self-conscious because the last time she’d seen him he’d been delectably naked.
Now he was dressed deliciously in soft, faded jeans and a light woollen V-neck jumper, which clung to him like a second skin. She swallowed hard, knowing exactly how gorgeous the chest under the jumper was and what it tasted like. ‘I … I thought you were studying?’
He put the bottle of wine he was holding on the bench. ‘I was but your grandfather called and invited me to dinner. I have to eat so I thought …’ He suddenly frowned. ‘You knew I was coming, right?’
She shook her head slowly, wondering what her grandfather was up to. In three years he’d never invited someone around without telling her and he’d never once invited a man under the age of sixty. ‘Ah, no. Gramps kept that bit of information to himself.’
‘If it’s a problem, I can go.’
Was it a problem? ‘You being here’s not a problem but I might need to have a chat with Gramps.’
He rounded the bench and reached for her. ‘I’m glad he invited me.’
She stepped into his embrace, enjoying how natural it felt to be in his arms yet at the same time worried that it did. ‘You say that now, but you have no clue if I can cook.’
His thumbs caressed her cheeks and his often serious eyes sparkled in fun. ‘It’s a risk I’m willing to take. I mean, how bad can it be?’
She dug him in the ribs. ‘For that, you’re now my kitchen hand.’
He grinned. ‘I’m pretty handy with a knife.’
She pushed the chopping board towards him. ‘In less than two weeks you’ll be back operating,’ she said, as much to remind herself as to remind him. ‘How many hours away is that?’ she teased, remembering his first day in Turraburra.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘Two hundred and ninety-four hours and three minutes, twelve seconds.’
‘Seriously? You’ve got an app?’
He had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I was pretty ticked off when I first arrived here.’
‘Were you?’ She couldn’t help laughing. ‘I had no clue.’
‘And that takes the total of the sarcasm jar to one hundred and forty dollars.’ He got a self-righteous glint in his eye. ‘You’ve now put more money in it than me.’
‘That’s a bit scary. That jar was for your problem, not mine.’
He gave her a look that said, You can’t be serious. ‘You use sarcasm like a wall.’
Did she? Before Trent, she hadn’t been sarcastic at all. Then again, she hadn’t been wary and fearful either. The fact Noah had noticed she used sarcasm to keep people at a distance worried her. She plonked an onion on the chopping board to change the subject. ‘Dice this.’
‘About the app.’ He started peeling the onion. ‘When I arrived I was taking my frustrations out on the town. I thought I was being singled out from the other surgical registrars and being punished for no good reason.’ His warm eyes sought hers. ‘It took you to show me I had a problem and that I really needed to be down here. I’ve hardly looked at the app since our trip back from Melbourne.’
Trent had destroyed personal compliments for her—she never completely trusted them and Noah’s sat uneasily. ‘But you must be happy that your time’s more than half over. That you’ll be back in Melbourne soon?’
‘Put it this way …’ He slid the diced onion off the board and into her warmed and oiled pan. He stepped in behind her, his body hugging hers, ‘I have a strong feeling the next twelve days are going to fly by.’
They settled into companionable cooking—he stood next to her, sautéeing the fillings for the omelettes—and his arm brushed hers as he moved, his warmth stealing into her and settling as if it had a right to belong. He asked her about the music she liked, the books she enjoyed—the usual questions people asked as they got to know each other. It was so very conventional. Normal. Terrifying.
‘I’ve set the table,’ Gramps announced, as he walked into the kitchen.
‘I’m just about ready to serve up,’ Lily said, pulling warmed plates out of the oven.
Bruce picked up the bottle of wine. ‘This is a good drop, Noah,’ he said approvingly. ‘Might be a bit too good for eggs, though.’
‘Never.’ Noah smiled. ‘I think it will go perfectly with our gourmet omelettes.’
‘In that case, I’ll open her up.’ Gramps, who loved big, bold, Australian red wines, gave Lily a wicked wink before cracking the seal on the bottle. By the time they sat down at the table he’d poured three glasses. ‘Cheers.’
‘Salute,’ Noah said easily.
It was a surreal moment and Lily silently clinked her glass against the other two, not knowing what to say. She was struck by the juxtaposition that Trent, whom she’d married, had never sat down to a meal in her grandfather’s house and now Noah, who was nothing more than a wild and euphoric fling, was at the table, sharing their casual Sunday night meal. It was nothing short of weird.
Despite her discombobulation, conversation flowed easily around the table and both Noah and Gramps drew her into the chatter. Slowly, she felt herself start to relax. When the plates were cleared, Bruce suggested they play cribbage.
‘Gramps, Noah has to study and—’
‘I’m rusty, Bruce,’ Noah cut across her, ‘but, be warned, I used to play it a lot with my father before he got too sick to hold a hand.’
Bruce clapped his hand on Noah’s shoulder in a gesture of understanding. ‘Tell you what. I’ll give you a couple of hands to warm up then but then it’s on for young and old.’
Noah laughed. ‘That’s a fair deal.’
Lily stared at him, once again flummoxed by his thousand sides—so many that he kept hidden from view. With his tailored clothes, his city sophistication and penchant for gourmet foods and wine, no one would ever guess that he loved footy and played cards. ‘Do you play other games?’
‘Does the Pope have an art collection?’ He gave her a grin. ‘My parents didn’t have a lot of money but we had an annual beach camping holiday for two weeks every summer. If it rained and I couldn’t surf, we’d play cards and board games. You name it, I’ve played it.’
‘Me too,’ she
said, remembering her own childhood summers and Gramps teaching her the card game Five Hundred, ‘but I bet you played to win.’
‘Of course.’ A bewildered look crossed his face. ‘Why else would you play?’
This was pure Noah. ‘Oh, I don’t know. What about for the sheer enjoyment of it and the company?’
He shuffled the deck of cards like a professional. ‘It is possible to do both.’
‘The man’s right, Lily,’ Gramps said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Enough of the talk, let’s play.’
Over the next hour Lily watched, fascinated as the two men battled it out both determined to win. Despite the heady competition and the good-natured trash and table talk, a lot of laughter and fun ensued. It had been a long time since she’d seen her grandfather quite so animated.
To Gramps’s delight, he beat Noah by the barest of margins. ‘You’ll have to come back another time and try again.’
Noah rose to his feet and shrugged into his jacket with a smile. ‘Next time we’ll play poker.’
Bruce shot out his hand. ‘You’re on.’
Lily walked Noah outside. ‘It was generous of you to give up your evening and play cards with Gramps.’
A slight frown marred his forehead. ‘You think I was just being polite?’
‘Playing cards with an old man? Yes, I do.’
He sighed. ‘Lily, surely you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t have accepted Bruce’s invitation for dinner or cards if I didn’t want to.’
But that was the problem—every time she thought she had him worked out he’d go and do something totally unexpected. Every time it happened it humanised him for her, making her think way beyond the sexy guy and skilled lover. Making her want to hope.