She closed her eyes. “You’re a wicked man.”
“Yep.” He kissed down her neck, lingered for a moment on her nipples again, then moved along her body.
She lifted her arms so she could cover her eyes with them and held her breath as his kisses continued to descend. He brushed her stomach with his lips, and then he shifted between her legs and lay on the ground. He moved one arm beneath her thigh and rested that hand on her hip. Placing his other hand on the triangle of curly hair between her legs, he slid his thumb inside her and brought up moisture to coat her folds. She moaned as he parted them and blew hot breath on the swollen skin.
And then he slid his tongue right into her. She cried out at that, and he dug his fingers into her hips as he did it again, groaning at her sigh of pleasure.
He continued to arouse her with his lips and tongue, and pushed her legs wider as she gradually relaxed. She abandoned herself to him, moving her arms above her head and stretching out, completely his at that moment, her body following his direction, totally under his command.
When her muscles quivered and tensed, she placed a hand on his arm and whispered, “Garth,” but he didn’t move away.
He murmured, “Come for me,” and sucked on the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex. She gave in and covered her mouth as everything pulsed and tightened beneath his warm tongue. Small cries escaped through her fingers, and he growled with appreciation deep in his throat as he continued to suck until the pulses died away.
Chapter Seventeen
She lay there, soft and limp as a bar of chocolate left in the sun, expecting him to climb on top of her straight away. Instead, however, he placed soft kisses on her thighs and tasted her skin. He moved up and traced his tongue around her hipbones, kissed up her ribs, sucked lightly on her nipples, then covered her mouth with his.
She sighed as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she tasted her own arousal on his lips. When she murmured, he pulled back and looked down at her. “All right, honey?”
She stirred lazily. “Mm. Thank you.”
He smiled. “My pleasure.”
“It will be.” She tugged on his swim shorts.
He slid them off and lay next to her. She caught her breath at the sight of him ready for her, perfectly in proportion for his magnificent height and breadth. “Wow.”
He laughed at that. “I think that’s the nicest thing a girl’s ever said to me.”
She giggled and kissed him for a while, stroking up his body, enjoying his firm muscles beneath her fingertips, the light scattering of hair on his chest.
At one point, she ran her fingers up his back and found small, round marks on his skin. He lifted his head as she traced them, but didn’t say anything. With horror, she understood what they were. Cigarette burns. He turned and kissed her arm, and she bit her lip to stop herself exclaiming. He’d gone through hell. It was only fair she showed him a piece of heaven.
Rising up, she pushed him onto his back and kissed his throat, his neck, touched her tongue to his Adam’s apple, then continued down his front. She planted kisses all the way to his hips, moving her hand around his erection. Revealing the tip, she closed her mouth over it.
“Jesus,” he said vehemently.
She chuckled at his reaction, then proceeded to arouse him, enjoying his deep groans as she tasted him and filled her senses with his musky, manly taste and smell. But when she took him deeper into her mouth, he grasped her upper arms and pulled her away, bringing her up to lie on top of him.
She looked into his eyes. Why had he stopped her? He didn’t say anything, just continued to study her face, and she frowned. Perhaps memories of his dead wife had bothered him. Did he feel unfaithful to her? Maybe pleasuring a woman was one thing, but actually having sex felt like betrayal.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Look, if you don’t want to do anything, that’s okay.”
He blinked and then gave a short bark of a laugh. Tightening his arms around her, he flipped her onto her back.
She squealed. “Garth!”
“I was counting to ten.” He kissed her. “Slowly. I haven’t had sex for a long while, Chloe. I swear you could make me come just by looking at me.”
Pleasure flooded through her. “Oh.”
“If you’d carried on doing what you were doing, I’d have lasted maybe another five seconds.”
“Ah.”
He reached for the condom, ripped it out of the packet and rolled it on. “And I didn’t want that, because I want to make love to you.”
“I see.”
He moved on top of her and pushed her legs up. “And you’re so fucking sexy, I’d rather it lasted longer than it took to put the condom on.”
His words thrilled her, and she held her breath as he pressed the tip of his erection into her soft folds. He didn’t enter her though—he lowered himself down and kissed her. “You’re sure about this?”
His huge frame seemed to dwarf her. Her mouth watered at his sheer masculinity. “Oh my God, Garth, yes, yes, yes, please…”
He laughed and moved his hips forward.
She gasped as he slid into her, right inside, stretching, filling her until she thought she couldn’t take any more, and still he pushed forward, until his pubic hair brushed against her sensitive folds.
He stopped moving, eyes glittering in the moonlight. She tried to kiss him, but he lifted his head, teasing her, watching her.
She dropped back and raised her arms above her head, feeling him, thick and hard, all the way up inside her. “You like to take charge, don’t you?”
His lips curved. “Sometimes.” He pushed forward a little more.
She closed her eyes and groaned.
“Too much?”
“No. Just…oh God…” Words failed her.
He pulled back a little, then slid forward again. “Talk to me Chloe.” He kissed her ear, dipped his tongue into it. He spoke huskily. “Tell me what you like.” He stroked inside her again.
“Oh, yes. That. Everything.” Perhaps the sea had flooded the tent and she was drifting away. She didn’t feel cold though—it was more like floating in melted chocolate, rich and exotic, pleasure spiking all her nerve endings.
He kissed her, delving his tongue into her mouth, and slid his arm under her thigh so he could lift her hips and move inside her even deeper. Deeper? Surely not—he’d filled her to the brim already. She had no more left to give.
But with every thrust he seemed to go further, and Chloe swore, hoping the crash of the waves muffled her cries to the ears of the partygoers up at the house.
Garth groaned at her appreciative sounds and claimed her mouth once again. He dug his fingers into her hips and ground himself against her most sensitive spot as he thrust. He overwhelmed her with his passion, seeming to know exactly where to touch her, how to kiss her so she spiraled out of control. He filled her senses—she could taste chocolate and salt on his tongue, smell sun cream and the fresh evening air on his skin. His deep murmurs in her ear as he told her exactly what he’d like to do to her made her melt in his arms.
She closed her eyes as her attention focused in her abdomen, but then he stopped moving, and her tightening muscles relaxed. She opened her eyes. He watched her, smiling, his eyes half-lidded with hazy desire.
“Not yet,” he said.
Maybe she should feel insulted that he wanted to control her arousal, but in all honesty it turned her on so much she could only lie there and breathe heavily as he brushed his lips against hers.
He lifted himself up onto his hands, kneeling beneath her, and lowered his lips to her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth hard so she cried out with pleasure. He did the same to the other one, then raised his head, observing her with hot eyes. He moved inside her. “I want to watch you.”
She would have blushed if her cheeks weren’t already flushed with passion. “Garth…”
He stroked firmly inside her, grinding against her mound to arouse her. “Come on me, beautiful.”
He caught her hands in his and pinned them above her head. “Bite your lip in that sexy way you do.”
“Oh…” She couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to. Spreading her legs wider, she gave herself to him, letting him guide her toward the height of ecstasy.
“Oh fuck. Yeah, that’s it.” He thrust inside her, deep, so deep, and her muscles clenched around him. Everything tightened from her thighs to her stomach, focusing gradually on the point where he ground against her. She squealed at the strength of the orgasm as it swept over her, powerless to stop it, even though he watched her the whole way.
Only when the ripples finally died down did she open her eyes to look at him. Pleasure twisted his lips, and he bent to kiss her, releasing her hands before finally giving into his own climax. He thrust a few times, then his body stiffened, and she sighed with satisfaction as his muscles tightened and his hips jerked as he came. The air filled with his deep groans, and she used her legs to pull him closer to her. She slid her hands into his hair and brought his head down to hers so she could plunge her tongue into his mouth and savor his bliss.
They lay like that for a while and let their breathing slow, enjoying the after-ripples of their climax. Their skin stuck together in the heat and humidity of the night, and Garth kissed her, soft, gentle kisses on her lips and cheeks.
After a while, he lifted up, groaning as he slid out of her. He disposed of the condom then lay on his back and tucked her under his arm.
“Wow.” She curled up and stroked his chest.
“Mm.” He looked tired, sated, and happy. “Honey, you are so hot, you’re semi-nuclear. You practically set my hair on fire.”
She kissed his cheek. “For a guy who hasn’t had sex in a couple of years, you were amazing too. You lasted far longer than I thought you would.”
“I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw aches.”
They both laughed. He stroked her back, and she nuzzled his neck.
He glanced out at the stars, and she pushed herself up onto an elbow. “If you want to go outside, I don’t mind. I know you feel uncomfortable in here.”
“Actually, I don’t, apart from the fact that there’s a stone under my back. Good thing I have a hide like an elephant.” He fidgeted, yawned, and cuddled up to her again. “You banish my fears, Chloe Jackson. Like sunlight banishes mist.”
She remained quiet for a minute. Then she said, “That was a nice thing to say.”
But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Chloe slept soundly for several hours and then roused as people started to filter into the tents, the party finally drawing to a close. Garth slept on, however. She curled up beside him in the moonlight, watching him. Perhaps this was the first real sleep he’d had since he came back to New Zealand.
Stella had called him a Shakespearean hero. Little had her friend known how close to the mark she’d been. He truly was a tortured soul, tormented by the memories of his traumatic ordeal as a hostage, and by what had happened to his wife. She remembered the cigarette burns she’d felt beneath her fingertips. What other terrible things had his captors done to him? She could only imagine how they’d made such a strong, independent man feel.
She lay there listening to the sound of the waves and the kiwi birds crying in the bush, Garth’s chest rising and falling beneath her hand. He stirred, shifting on the mattress, and she lifted the thin blanket and drew it over them. Outside, the moon glittered on the sea, the sun not yet lightening the horizon. She had him to herself for a few more hours.
He said something in his sleep, and she stroked his hair, waiting until he fell quiet before closing her eyes.
The next time she roused, seagulls dipped and swerved in the light sky. Conscious of a cold back, she looked over her shoulder to see Garth had gone. She sat up, alarmed. Had he freaked out in the night, unable to stay any longer under canvas?
She pulled on her dress and crawled to the entrance, spotting him immediately in the sea. He stood atop a surfboard, riding a wave to the shore, and leaped off the board as it broke onto the sand. Immediately he picked it up and headed back into the water, diving headfirst into the rolling white.
He was like a caged bird that, when released, flew as high as it could, eager to feel the currents under its wings even if it meant getting burned by the sun’s rays. His impatience to get outside, to let the sun warm his face, had a desperate feel to it, as if he was afraid that at any moment he might be whisked away again, removed forever from the beauty of the world. Would he ever be able to live a normal life?
He swam past the breakers, waited for a wave, and popped up on the board in time for it to lift him toward the sand. His face had lost the haunted look it sometimes held, and even from the shore his exhilaration was evident. Like a junkie who had to take more and more drugs to get that high, he had to push himself to do things that elicited a reaction in order to feel alive.
For the first time Chloe understood her mother a little better. She’d thought she understood depression—after all, she’d been very down herself after splitting up with Ethan. But maybe that was vastly underestimating it. A doctor had once told her that being bipolar meant more than feeling blue one day and excited the next. It went so much deeper than that, and maybe this was what he’d meant. Perhaps her mother felt like Garth did all the time, except it hadn’t been a physical event that had set off the feelings. Her depression was inherent in her, something deep in her soul that made her desperate to grasp every single moment she could out of life. And sometimes it still wasn’t enough, and the blackness and fear would sweep over her, wiping away the elation she’d managed to cling to the previous day.
Maybe this was her role in life, Chloe thought, still sleepy as she admired Garth’s strong body atop the board. Doomed to spend her days around people who couldn’t cope with the daily treadmill.
She could look at it another way, though. Perhaps her mother’s illness had prepared her for how to deal with Garth. Maybe her role involved supporting the two of them as they struggled with the reality of life. She was their anchor, grounding them and giving them some balance in their wildly rocking ship.
She pondered on that thought for a while, continuing to watch him surfing, her fingers trailing idly in the sand.
After another ten minutes or so, he must have decided enough was enough and walked back up the shore. He left the board on the sand, dropped to his haunches before her, and smiled, flicking his fingers to spray her with water. “Hey.”
She wiped her face and stuck her tongue out. “Hey. Do you ever sit still?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
She smiled back. He was so gorgeous. His skin glowed with a healthy tan, and his body was muscular and lean, every girl’s pin up dream. She couldn’t believe she’d had sex with him the night before.
He reached out a hand then and brushed the back of his fingers along her cheekbone, and she caught her breath at the tender gesture. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
“A bit restless, but not bad. You?”
His eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t place. “I slept well. Which is kind of a miracle.” His lips curved. “Must have been all the exercise.”
“Yes, it must have.”
He hesitated as if he were about to ask her something, and she held her breath. At that moment, he looked up and raised an arm to wave to someone on the deck. “Breakfast’s up,” he said, glancing back at her. Was that regret in his eyes? But he stood and beckoned to her, so she got to her feet.
He took her hand and led the way up to the house. The zippers on the tents were mostly closed, but Alex and Stella were laying the table on the deck with toast and preserves and cereals. Alex looked very pleased with himself and Stella was all glowy, so clearly they’d spent the night together. Thank goodness, thought Chloe—it hadn’t entered her head that Stella might change her mind and come crawling into her tent in the middle of the night.
“Morning,” Alex said as she
climbed the steps to the deck.
“Hi.” It was difficult to be nonchalant when they all knew what each other had been up to the night before. But after a couple of embarrassed giggles from the girls and wry grins from the guys, they laughed and helped themselves to toast and coffee. The girls sat on the swing seat, and the two guys took the plastic chairs and stretched out their legs.
They sat and chatted as the sun rose higher in the sky, Alex occasionally going inside to refill the coffee pot as more people roused and joined them, including Mat and Abby. What a wonderful way to spend a Sunday morning, she thought. Relaxing in the bright sunshine with friends.
At around ten, though, Garth said, “I think I’ll get going. The friend looking after my dog has to be somewhere by midday.”
“Okay.” Chloe glanced at Stella. “Are you ready to go?”
“Actually, do you mind staying a bit longer? I said I’d help Alex clear up later.”
“No, of course not.” Should she ask Garth for a lift back to Paihia? She glanced at him, chewing her lip. Would he offer to take her home? But he stood looking at his car keys, and her heart sank. He wanted to be off.
He looked up then, meeting her gaze, and she smiled, determined not to act like a jilted lover. He smiled back, and they stood there like that for a moment, conscious of the others watching them, the air full of unsaid words that fluttered between them like butterflies. They’d both taken the opportunity for some consolation and comfort the night before. She hadn’t wanted anything more from him—she’d meant it to be a one-off.
So why did she feel so disappointed?
Eventually, he just said, “See you around, Chloe.”
She replied, “Yeah, see ya.”
He walked down the steps and headed off across the sand. Sadness settled over her. Unable to watch him leave, she turned instead to gaze with melancholy at the waves crashing upon the shore.
Chapter Nineteen
Garth walked across the beach, clutching the keys in his hand until they cut into his skin. He should have offered to take her home, but she would have said no.
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