In the bedroom, I make my way to the open balcony doors. The sea breeze blows into my face and I close my eyes, tuning my senses to the calming sound and scents of nature. The calm ocean laps the beach across the road, with no swell on the water. The afternoon sun heats the bedroom; I pull the curtains across the doors but the sunlight shines through the thin blue material. I’m facing away from the bedroom doorway and my skin goose bumps at the awareness of Guy entering the room.
“Closing out the world?” he asks from behind.
“Taking back the day.”
Gentle fingers push my hair from my neck, and a shiver runs through as Guy places his lips on my skin. “A trip to a winery wasn’t on our bucket list.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Another step away from travelling companions, Phe.”
I pull away and turn to look at him. “I think the kiss last night was a bigger step away.”
In a sudden movement, Guy seizes my head and his mouth crashes on mine. I gasp, ready to push him away, but who am I kidding, I’ve waited for this all afternoon. I slide my hand to the nape of his neck and hold him steady, pressing myself into him. Guy backs me against the wall and pushes his tongue into my mouth. We kiss deeply until , struggling to breathe, I wrench my head away.
Guy holds my face steady with his lips remaining close to mine. He studies me with the mix of desire and affection I’ve seen in his eyes all day, “We don’t have to go back to Perth tonight, we can stay until tomorrow. Spend the night together.”
“I thought you said you were waiting for me to call the shots.”
He arches a brow. “If you don’t, I will. We’re outside life again, Phe. Living for what we want and I want you.”
“Not a travelling companion?” I run my fingertips along his lips.
“I want to carry on this journey with you, yes; but I want us. Don’t you think sex would enhance the experience?”
My eyes widen at his forthright words. “That’s so romantic,” I say sarcastically.
Guy slides his arms around my waist and pulls me into his hips. I stumble and place a hand on his chest. “Unless you don’t want to?”
I refuse to overthink this, I’ll let my body make the decision on this one. The strength of the arms around me, the solid muscle I’m held against are enough of a temptation for me.
Guy misreads my hesitation. “But I understand if you need a man to love you before you take that step.”
“I don’t think I’m able to allow myself close to anybody yet,” I whisper. “Physically is fine, not emotionally.”
He tips my chin. “I promise you’ll have respect from somebody who cares about you and is exclusively yours, but we don’t have to fall in love.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Guy pushes a hand beneath my singlet top and draws a finger along my stomach, triggering vibrations from my belly downward. “So we’re good?”
“I hope we will be,” I say with a giggle. Recklessness, I can do this. What’s wrong with a girl wanting no-strings sex?
I pull Guy closer, push my hands beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, and dig my nails into the hard muscle. He places his lips on mine, sending a wave of sensation through my body, and the last doubt slips away. I’m lost the moment his mouth touches mine, the inexplicable connection fusing us. Guy runs his tongue along my bottom lip and I part my mouth, allowing him to kiss me deeply. Losing my grasp on anything but the warmth of Guy and the growing heat between us, I grip his hair and return his passion.
Guy moves to kiss my neck, his day’s scruff scraping along the skin firing heat to the centre of me. He pulls me to him by my hips and slides his hand up my back. The way our bodies shape against each other pulls us into our intense world where nobody else exists. Unable to breathe, I pull away but his grip around my waist tightens.
Guy places his forehead on mine, his breath heating my skin. “You want to do this?”
“Do you?”
Guy laughs. “I’m male, Phe, that’s a bloody stupid question.” He pulls his t-shirt over his head, confirming the tanned muscles from my fantasies live up to reality. I do the same and Guy’s gaze drops to my lace-covered breasts. For a moment we stand on the edge of the precipice, in denial that this will be a random hook up. The sexual energy existing between us is underpinned by a current of something else, the polarisation of life and death.
I’m alive because of Guy.
He sits on the edge of the bed and watches me through darkening eyes before holding his arms out. “Come here.”
I sit astride Guy, and he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. I slide my arms from the straps and drop the lacy material to the floor. Continuing to look at me, Guy traces fingers from my side to my breasts, brushing my nipple with his thumb. I hold Guy’s head and nip his bottom lip and he rewards me with another breath-snatching kiss, shifting his hands to my ass and digging his fingers into the cotton of my shorts. His arousal pushes between the barrier of our clothes; the heat gathers between my legs at each touch and kiss.
“It’s hard to keep my self-control around you,” he growls.
“Don’t then.”
“Don’t?” he asks and raises a brow.
Teasingly, I bite the corner of my lip. In a sudden movement, Guy stands and flips me over on the bed, kneeling above. Normally I’d feel exposed and nervous but Guy’s expression holds a promise I crave for him to keep.
“You trust me?” he asks.
“I trust you, or I wouldn’t be lying here half-naked.”
Guy loses the concerned lines on his face and shifts back to a lazy smile. “Sounds good to me.”
He unbuttons my shorts and I shuffle out of them as he pulls the material from my legs. Guy hungrily takes in the sight of my nakedness and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel exposed under a man’s scrutiny.
“You’re beautiful, Phe,” he says, voice hoarse. “But I think I told you that before.”
“Once or twice.” I curl a hand into Guy’s hair and pull him onto me.
He slowly runs a hand along my leg and the soft touch of his fingers on my inner thigh lights the fuse paper on the need for Guy. I drag my fingers across the ridges of muscle in his back and grip him to me.
“Don’t stop kissing me,” I say.
Our mouths meet, teeth clashing with the raw intensity of the kiss. Guy takes my wrists in one broad hand, and holds my arms above my head. I make a breathless sound as Guy’s rough kisses shift toward my breasts, before he closes his mouth around my hardened nipple. He pushes my legs apart with his knee, fingers travelling up my inner thigh until he discovers my wet heat.
Guy strokes, teasingly, gently. As my arousal grows, he slips a finger inside, and I move against him, pushing myself against the palm of his hand. He slides his tongue across my breasts, teasing my nipples into peaks before pulling one into his mouth. I drown in the sensation of his attention to my body; his expert kisses and touch bringing me to the brink and then pausing, until I can’t take the building pressure anymore.
“Guy!” I jerk against his grip on my hands, desperate to touch him too.
Guy hesitates and looks down at me. “You want me to stop?”
“No. Yes. I mean stop doing that.”
“Why?” He releases my hands and slides his other under my ass, pulling me closer. My body tingles with arousal as his hot mouth finds mine again. I still his hand. “Tell me.”
I’m partially entwined around Guy but I want to be naked beneath him and be completely surrounded by his warm strength. Now my hands are free, I move them to the waistband of his shorts and slide my fingers inside. “Why do you think?”
“Oh, right.” He lifts himself off me with a smug smile. “Just a sec.” Guy pulls his wallet from his pocket and takes out a condom, then shuffles the shorts down. He sits on the bed and passes me the package. “You’re going to be in control of this, Phe.”
Control. I blink; this is a bigger challenge than choosing which menu to
eat from. “What if I say I won’t?”
“Then I put my clothes back on.” He arches a brow, amusement playing at the corner of his lips. I purse mine, already past my personal point of no return, and take the wrapper from him, tearing it open and rolling the condom onto his hard length.
Guy lies back on the bed and pulls me onto him then. The challenge in his expression is unmistakable. He means really in control.
“Okay,” I say and settle my hips over his, aware of my slick heat sliding against his firm body. Guy inhales sharply and grips my ass.
As I look down at Guy, my hair falls into his face. He pushes a strand away and his dimpled smile appears. “Hello.”
I nudge his nose. “Hello.”
As we kiss, my nipples brush against Guy’s hard chest, our bodies already slippery with perspiration from the summer heat. Pleasure pulses through as Guy slides against me, but he holds back from pushing inside. I hold his broad shoulders, relaxing into the power Guy’s allowing me over him; his strength outweighs mine and he could do whatever he wanted to me, easily. But this is Guy, the man who pulled me from the edge and who hardly needs to ask me to trust him.
Looking down at him, I reach between us and guide him inside. Guy closes his eyes, mouth parted, as I slowly lower myself onto him. His grip on my hips hardens, and I lean forward again, nipping his ear as I rock my hips. Guy says something, but I don’t hear, lost in the sensation of him filling me as I move. He groans and reaches a hand between us, rubbing his fingers against me in time with the movements.
Our gazes lock, I drag my hair over my shoulders and continue to slide against him, luxuriating in the pleasure rising with each movement. Suddenly, Guy pushes himself up, and holds me in his lap. I dig my nails into his back and he growls, flipping me over onto the bed, before pausing.
“My turn?” he asks.
As I mouth ‘yes’, he thrusts hard into me. Guy moves slowly at first, eyes still fixed on mine, before increasing the urgency. The pressure builds as the movement of our bodies sliding together bumps my clit.
I grip his tense shoulders and move against him, unable to pull back from my urgency. Guy kisses me, the movement of his tongue matching the push of his hips. Everything overwhelms into a world of sensation, as I spiral upward toward the edge, to the place where nothing exists apart from pure pleasure. Stars dance in my eyes as I cry out, the ecstasy sending shockwaves through my body, squeezing my heart. Lost in this world, I’m aware of Guy’s hips tensing before he thrusts hard into me one more time, swearing as he comes.
Guy wraps his arms tightly around me and buries his head in my neck. I relax back with my eyes closed as our hearts beat against each other. Sticky beneath the sheets, I push them down, wrapping the cotton around my waist as I rest my cheek on Guy’s damp chest. I close my eyes and run a finger along his skin. The steady thud of Guy’s heart slows as he strokes my hair, soothing me further. I haven’t felt as close to anybody for years – if ever – and I barely know him. Disconnecting my emotions from a physical relationship and not worrying about where things will lead brings in a freedom I didn’t think I’d enjoy.
“Travelling with you will be a lot more fun now.” Guy kisses my damp hair.
Until we reach his final destination.
Chapter Fifteen
I sit on the kitchen counter and watch as Guy turns last night’s leftovers into a meal, throwing in sauces and spices he finds in a cupboard. The water bubbles as he adds the pasta and my stomach growls.
“You okay?” he asks, rubbing a hand on my leg.
“I know we’re living in the now, but I worry.”
He frowns. “Don’t worry. Why worry?”
“About you.”
“When I’m with you, I forget about life. Isn’t it the same for you?”
Our step into a sexual relationship doesn’t mean we need to share everything about ourselves, but the closeness demands I know more. “Yes, but even if you don’t want to tell me the whole story, I need to know what’s happening to you. I feel like I only know half of you.”
“What do you want to know?” He studies the contents of the pan and stirs.
“What do you think?”
“I dunno. Could be anything.”
Is he being deliberately evasive here? I take a deep breath. I’ve felt the strength of this man, but I’ve also seen the Guy whose pain surfaced briefly last night.
“Do you think you’re at the stage you can tell me yet?” I ask.
“About what?”
I swallow. “About what’s killing you.”
Guy carefully places the spoon on the kitchen counter. “I thought I could get away with that.” He looks up with a small smile. “But I understand you want to know.”
“And I understand that you don’t want to talk about your illness, but I’m asking as your friend –”
“And lover.”
“As somebody who cares.”
He regards me for a few moments and I worry that I’ve pushed things too far. “Fine, but will you tell me what happened to you? The full story about your family?”
It’s my turn to look away. An exchange of secrets, of things we attempt to hold outside of the place we’ve created together. “I’m not sure I can.”
“Brain tumour.”
The words spring from nowhere and I snap my head up. “Oh.” I’ve rehearsed a reaction for the day Guy inevitably told me and that pathetic response wasn’t my plan. How can he expect me to react reasonably, when he throws the words out like this then continues to cook as if he asked me to pass him the salt? “Sorry.”
“Yeah.” He rubs a hand across his short hair. “Of the inoperable variety. Well, they did years ago. Tried to take out what was in there and thought they had. Came back.” As he speaks, Guy looks directly at me but his face is impassive. How anybody could come to terms with the fact they’re facing death and act nonchalantly I don’t know. When I looked death in the face, I was in a haze and welcomed the idea. Is his choice to ignore because he can’t fight?
“Are you in pain?”
“Sometimes.”
“You said your illness didn’t affect you physically. I thought brain tumours did that.”
“Everybody’s different, Ophelia.”
I tense at him using the name, a warning to stop asking more. “Right.”
“Which is why I’m planning everything quickly. I need to organise my trip to the UK.”
Brain tumour. I picture him unable to walk, talk… “But in a few months will you be able to?”
“Yes, but the sooner the better. July?”
“I guess. I’ll ask for leave and see how things go.”
“Cool.”
At this moment, all I want is to hold Guy, the tears threatening to spill, but I don’t think sympathy is what he wants. The sadness I have for him mingles with relief he’s finally told me, that he trusts me. I understand now why he never wanted to vocalise the truth.
“Your turn,” he says. “Tell me about your family.”
I can’t be as laid back on the surface as Guy can; the memories too close. I have a condensed version of the story, one I use on the rare occasions I’m forced to tell. Passed from psych to doctor to counsellor in a merry go round as a teen, I have honed my version of the story. Factual. Short. Quick.
“My dad drugged my family and drove the car into a river. Everybody died. Apart from me. Obviously. They think he put sedatives in something we ate or drank that afternoon and my mum and brother passed out on the journey. In the car, between when we left home and he drove into the water, I vomited. My dad was angry with me, really angry, and now I know why. I vomited up the drugs. I knew what he was doing when the car hit the water.”
Guy watches silently; and for once, he’s unable to respond. “When the car submerged, I tried to help my little brother, but I barely had time to save myself. I was lucky. Even though it was late at night and we were somewhere quiet, another car passing saw the accident happen. A man I’ve neve
r seen since saved my life.” I wipe at my eyes, annoyed a tear has found its way out. “At least my mum and brother didn’t know because they were... asleep. My dad must’ve been conscious before he drowned because there were no drugs in his system. Some days I’m glad he suffered.”
“And you feel guilty,” says Guy softly.
“Yes. Always. I should’ve died when I was eleven, shouldn’t be here.”
“But you are,” he whispers. “Strong, beautiful, and capable of more than you realise. Live the life you’ve been given, that’s what your mum would’ve wanted.”
“That’s the problem, I am, and I hate it. When I was growing up, before she died, she would talk about how smart I was, how I’d achieve so much. Now I have to, because success is my legacy to her.”
Guy shakes his head and takes both of my hands in his, returning me from the edge of my memories to him. “No. You’re wrong. Your mum would’ve wanted you to live a life of colour, not still drowning in the darkness after all these years.”
“But I want to. I want to be successful, to be somebody.”
“You are somebody. Whatever you choose to do, you will be amazing.” Guy takes my face in his hands and looks me straight in the eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
I place my hands over Guy’s, ignoring the growing anxiety. One moment we say we’ll be no-strings and the next we tighten the thread that connects us. A tragedy in the past and the threat of death, the guilt that follows.
“I’m going to teach you how to be Ophelia,” he says. “You can’t be Lia again, but you don’t have to be Phe.”
“And I’m going to teach you that you don’t have to go through things on your own.”
He kisses my forehead. “I know, because I have my travelling companion.”
He turns back to the pan, stirring with the spoon in one hand and holding my hand in his other. Relaxed, natural, average couple when we’re anything but. Secrets revealed, bodies shared, is there any way we can prevent ourselves becoming enmeshed?
The Same Deep Water Page 10