‘You can say that again.’
The flames were reflected in her eyes, dancing and leaping, and he suddenly found himself fighting the urge to reach out and stroke her face. Her skin looked so soft in the firelight. Instead he clenched his hands together, as if they were still cold, to stop himself from reaching out.
‘I mean, this must have touched you…personally?’
Lula smiled again, and nodded, and he could see tears glazing her eyes. His stomach ached at the thought of her hurting, and as a solitary tear ran down her rosy cheek he couldn’t stop himself. He had to reach out and wipe it away.
She looked at him as he did so, her eyes full of something he couldn’t decipher. He was too busy trying to understand the feelings ripping through his own body with the force of a blizzard. Only it wasn’t cold. It was intense heat. Heat he’d not felt for a long time.
‘I can’t help but think that…’
She didn’t finish her sentence. She just looked at him, and he saw her gaze drop to his mouth, then move back up to his eyes again.
Should he kiss her?
She was his colleague. The new doctor. A locum. A drifter. She wasn’t the type of woman he would normally go for. Lula was…different. And not just because she had the colours of the rainbow in her hair and a jewel in her belly button and tattoos on her toe-ringed feet. It was none of that. That was all window dressing.
It was Lula herself. So full of life! So full of spark! Always concerned for others, reaching out, doing that little extra. Never asking for anything herself even though she had her own troubles, her own concerns, her own needs.
She was funny and beautiful and kind and caring, and she made him feel he could achieve anything he wanted to. She made him feel as if…he wanted to kiss her.
Olly leaned in. Slowly.
What if she rejects me? What if…?
He never finished the thought because his lips touched hers and an explosion went off in his gut. His eyes closed as he sank into the kiss with Lula, enjoying the soft, sensual curve of her lips, the warmth of her mouth, the scent of her skin.
She didn’t protest. She didn’t push him away.
She welcomed him!
He took hold of her face and pulled her close, deepening the kiss.
She moaned a little and he couldn’t help himself. He lost control at the sound. He pulled her to him, pressing her small, lithe body against his as his tongue delved into her mouth to claim her, taste her, enjoy her.
Lula was something else. He’d never, ever experienced this sort of passion with a woman before. Yes, there’d been heat—but it had been perfunctory and fleeting. A case of him just going through the motions.
But this… This was something else!
‘Olly…’ she breathed as his mouth left hers to cover her jawline and sink down her throat, nibbling her skin and kissing, biting and licking at her pulse points. She smelt delightful. It was as if she was some sort of life-giving nectar that he had to suckle from. He had to taste, lick, bite, kiss.
Inhale her.
He reached the waistline of her jumper and pulled it over her head, then removed the thermal tee shirt she had on underneath that. That was the problem with winter! Too many layers! He couldn’t get to her skin quickly enough. He had to have her.
All sensible thought had left his head completely. That she was his new colleague. That she was his friend. That maybe there could be a risk in doing this with her and then having to work with her afterwards if it all went wrong.
Who says it’s going to go wrong?
None of it mattered any more.
He unclipped her bra as she pulled off his top layers. Their hands were all over each other, and his skin was sizzling at her feathery touch. Cupping her breasts, he lifted her delicate nipples into his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut with ecstasy as she groaned above him, clutching his head, her fingers raking through his hair.
Is there anything sweeter than this?
Pulling Lula to the soft rug in front of the fire, he removed the rest of her clothes. When she’d pulled off his straining trousers she agonisingly kissed his skin, all the way down from his waist, and he thought he would just implode there and then.
When her mouth came back up to his he claimed it once again with his own, running his hands all over her. Her soft, curvaceous body was lithe and delicate as he pulled himself over her. And he’d been right. There were tiny little tattoos all over her. A cute miniature mouse on her hip, a heart in the dimple of her bottom, a trailing sparkle of stars at the top of her thigh…
Condom, Oliver!
‘Damn, wait…’ He looked for his jacket and saw it over the back of a chair. Leaving her for just a moment, he grabbed his wallet, hoping and praying he had a condom in there.
When had he last needed one?
A while at least…
He couldn’t honestly remember if there was one in there!
Oh, thank God!
A small silver packet, tucked behind an old credit card that he never used any more but hadn’t bothered to dispose of yet.
Hoping it was in date, he tore at the wrapper with his teeth.
‘No. Let me,’ she whispered, her breath tickling his chest.
He closed his eyes in agonised lust and tried to gather his control as she slowly and tantalisingly rolled the condom down the length of his penis, almost gasping at the feel of her fingers wrapped tightly around him.
‘I want you…’ he muttered, but the words didn’t mean enough. Not enough to convey just how much he wanted her and needed her right then.
She lay back and smiled at him, reaching out with her hands to pull him down on top of her.
He tortured himself as he deliberately teased her entrance, dying to thrust himself inside her but hesitating, touching briefly, sliding between her folds. Then, unable to hold back any more in case he physically imploded, he entered her. She gasped and grabbed his back, sliding her hands down to his bottom to pull him tighter against her.
Holy mother of…
He didn’t want to come straight away. It would have been so easy, but he managed to hold back, enjoying the rise and fall as he moved above her. He crushed her mouth against his as she moaned and groaned. Her fingertips bit into his skin with their nails and all the time his orgasm built up, rising and rising.
Lula writhed beneath him, gasping for air, pulling him towards her, pulling him in deeper, her eyes closed. Her breathing grew faster. Shorter. Then she was crying out, arcing up into his body as he rode her through it.
He moved faster. Harder. He ground himself into her and exploded into a satisfying molten puddle above her as she gasped beneath him. Collapsing, his lips against the skin of her neck, he kissed her one last time, holding on to her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest. Both of them were just breathing, soaking in the moment.
It would have been so easy just to lie there for a while longer. But now that his mind was working clearly again he thought only about getting her to bed. He scooped her up, smiling as she laughed, and made his way up the stairs, kicking open the main bedroom door, shivering slightly at the cold and hurrying them both into bed.
Laughing, they pulled the bedcovers over themselves and snuggled up close, warming each other with their body heat.
Olly held her body against him, kissing her nose, her face, her neck, inhaling her scent once again. It would be so easy for him to take her once again, but he knew there were no more condoms—and he ought to show at least a modicum of self-control.
He felt her remove the condom and groaned at her touch, knowing he could have no more. Lying in her arms, he fell asleep—only to wake in the early hours feeling guilty.
It was still dark. Olly blinked and turned to see the bedside clock, its digital numerals glowing red in the early hours.
Just gone two o’clock.
His head sank back onto the pillow and he looked at Lula, sleeping peacefully and contentedly beside him.
She was stretched out like a cat, the duvet
covering one shoulder, the other bare almost to her breast. He eyed the gentle up-swell of her skin in the dark and remembered how he’d taken her pink nipples in his mouth. Feeling guilty about what he’d done, he pulled the duvet over her shoulder to cover her.
I should never have slept with her. It’s Lula, for goodness’ sake! My colleague! And she was feeling down. I should never have taken advantage. What does that say about me? What if this changes things between us and makes it awkward?
He’d always thought of himself as an upstanding man. A man who would never take advantage of a woman for his own pleasure. But wasn’t that what he’d done with Lula? This whole baby business, the search for her own mother, the Ruby episode—it had all affected her. Made her think about her own situation. It had hit home.
And what did I do?
No clear thinking, that was for sure.
Feeling gutted by his actions, Olly sat up, swinging his legs out of bed. The air was cooler outside of the duvet and all his clothes were still downstairs. Lula hadn’t stirred, but he didn’t feel he could stay in her bed—not feeling like this—so he got up and padded downstairs, slipping on his clothes as he found them and then building up the fire once again.
He could hear noises, and turned to see Nefertiti and Cleo looking at him through the bars of their cage, their noses twitching. ‘I guess you saw all of that earlier?’ he muttered quietly, wondering why on earth he was talking to two rats. ‘I admit it—I’m not proud of myself. No matter how lovely your owner is.’
He stood by the cage in two minds. Should he stay? Or go? If he stayed there’d be that awkward morning-after conversation and he didn’t think he could bear to go through that. Even if she didn’t feel awkward, he certainly would. But if he left what would she think of him?
I could leave her a note.
He grabbed some paper and a pen from his grandmother’s bureau and scribbled something quickly to imply that he’d got beeped on his pager and would see her later. It seemed the lesser of the two evils, and even though it was a lie he hoped that as it was a white lie it wouldn’t hurt her and make her think that he’d abandoned her, too.
There was no way he wanted her to think that. He didn’t want to hurt Lula. She was special. She meant something to him. But he thought it was important that they had a proper talk about what happened last night. And the immediate morning after—right before they both had to go to work—wouldn’t be the right time.
Pulling on his jacket, he quietly slipped from the cottage, closing the door without making a sound. Standing in the snow outside, he looked up at the bedroom window, imagining himself back beneath the duvet with her.
I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her!
He wanted her so much! But he also wanted the situation to be right. For her not to be grieving over her mother. For her not to be feeling lost because Ruby had her happy ending and she did not. He didn’t want to take advantage of her again.
I hope she doesn’t think I used her. I didn’t. I wasn’t.
Olly sloped away, his feet crunching through the top layer of snow that had begun to freeze overnight.
*
Lula woke to birdsong. For a long time she just lay there without opening her eyes, feeling content and enjoying the warmth of her bed, remembering the events of the night before. She blinked slowly, thinking she could turn to Olly and hold him before they both had to get up for work.
He wasn’t there.
She sat up and looked about the room. No sign of him. But then she remembered they’d stripped each other of their clothes downstairs—perhaps he was down there, making breakfast? She couldn’t smell any food. She couldn’t hear any sounds.
Was he even there?
He has to be. He wouldn’t just disappear in the night, would he?
She got out of her warm bed and slipped on her robe, tying it tightly at the waist before padding downstairs.
‘Olly?’
There was no one in the lounge. And no answer to her call.
But there was a note with her name on, propped up on the mantelpiece. Her heart felt heavy as she went over to it, wondering what it might say. Flipping open the paper, she quickly scanned the words and sagged with relief. He’d been paged! Called away in the night to a patient!
She held the note to her chest and beamed. Last night had been amazing! Beautiful and passionate and just what she’d needed. And Olly had been perfect. He’d tasted tantalising. The feel of his strong, broad masculine form encircling her and entering her had made her nerve endings sing like choristers praising God on high with the most beautiful voices.
His very touch had been magical. She’d felt everything. Tingled at every caress, whether with his fingertips or his tongue. She’d almost wanted to consume him. She’d never have guessed it could have been that way with him. Dear Dr Oliver James.
Just thinking about him made her want him again!
But I have to be careful. I’m not meant to be starting something here. I’m here for my mother. That’s all. What happened with Olly was fun, but that’s all it can be.
She slipped the note into her pocket and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. Anubis sat in his cage, awaiting the sacrifice of some food. She opened the tank’s top and dropped in some insects. She kept her hand there, thinking about touching him. Touching that large, plump, hairy body.
Her stomach squirmed, but she knew she had to force herself to try.
She reached down slowly, her breaths long and steady as her nerves shot into overdrive and her flight instinct kicked in. She would have to be gentle. Tarantulas could be damaged by rough handling.
Her fingers were about an inch away and she was just about to touch him…but he moved. Lightning fast she whipped her hand out of the tank, breathing heavily.
Close. So close!
But not yet. Maybe later she’d try again.
The clock in the kitchen told her she had twenty minutes before she needed to be at work. She headed upstairs for a shower.
*
Lula strode into the surgery, said good morning to the receptionists, and headed off into her room. She switched on the computer system and then went to the staff room to make a cup of coffee.
Whilst she was there Helen, the practice manager, came in, bearing packets of biscuits.
‘Oh, they look nice.’
Helen smiled. ‘Can’t beat a chocolate digestive, I always say.’
‘Absolutely. Do you know you can get some with pieces of stem ginger in, too?’
‘Ginger’s good for you, isn’t it?’ Helen smirked. ‘Might have to get them, then.’
Lula nodded and laughed. ‘For medical reasons, yes!’ She stirred her tea. ‘Do we know what the call-out was last night?’
Helen paused. ‘I think it was Mr Levinson. He lives on Old School Road. Chest pains—but it turned out to be indigestion, I think, nothing major.’
She nodded, understanding. ‘What time did Olly get called out to him? It must have been in the early hours?’
Helen frowned. ‘Olly wasn’t on call last night. It was Patrick who went out to the patient.’
‘Oh.’ Had she misunderstood? Had she read the note wrong? No. Surely not. Olly had been quite clear that he’d been called out to a patient. So why had he written that? Had he lied? Had he felt bad about last night and not been able to face her?
Why?
They were both adults. They both knew what they’d done. She knew he was a sensitive soul, but surely he hadn’t had second thoughts and run out on her in the middle of the night?
Lula felt as if she’d been kicked in the guts. But not wanting to let her sadness and disappointment show, especially in front of Helen, she forced a smile and went back to her room.
If Olly didn’t want to face her then she’d happily give him all the space he needed.
*
Olly sat in his room, writing up his notes for the last patient he’d seen, but his mind wasn’t really on his task. Lula would be here by
now. Just down the corridor from him. He could feel her presence, even separated as they were by a few unfeeling walls. She’d not come in to see him—not even to just pop her head round the door and say good morning.
What was going through her mind?
Was she angry with him? No, that couldn’t be it. She thought he’d got called out to a patient—there was no reason for her to be angry with him. Perhaps she’d got up late and rushed in, not wanting to be late for work, and just hadn’t had the time yet to say hello?
What if she’d not seen his note? That would be awful. She’d think he’d run out on her…
I could go and say hello.
I don’t want her to think I’m hiding.
In fact it would be better if I did. Act normal.
He closed the patient’s file and headed down the corridor, pausing outside her surgery room. Her name plate practically had an accusing stare and, swallowing down his guilt, he rapped on the door briefly and then opened it.
His beautiful Lula sat behind her desk, her rainbow hair hanging down over her face as she wrote a note, but she looked up at the sound of her door.
‘Oh—hi, Olly.’
She didn’t seem angry, or mad—or anything, to be honest. He smiled broadly and launched himself further into his lie from last night. ‘Sorry I had to leave so quickly last night…’
‘Right…that’s okay. Sometimes it happens when you’re on call.’
Good. She’d got his note. ‘I didn’t want you to think I’d just left.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘I…er…had a great time last night and…erm…’ He stood awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing the best way to finish his sentence. ‘I want you to know that it meant a great deal to me, that…erm…that it wasn’t just a—’ He didn’t want to say one-night stand. He didn’t want to cheapen their experience by saying the words out loud.
‘It’s fine, Olly. Really. We both wanted it. We’re both adults. But it was what it was. Just sex. Nothing more. It doesn’t have to affect our work, does it?’
Just sex? Just? That hadn’t been just sex.
‘No. Course not. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, that’s all. We work together. I don’t want it to be awkward, or for there to be an atmosphere.’
His Perfect Bride? Page 10