by Miranda Lee
Emma smiled. ‘Stop embarrassing me and tell me what you have there.’
‘Shall I bring it over to you?’
‘Yes,’ she said, then added impishly, ‘All of it!’
‘You saucy minx!’
‘If I am, then you’re to blame,’ she accused. ‘You make me think things and want to do things I’ve never wanted to do before.’
Jason liked the sound of that. ‘Tell me more,’ he said, and came over to sit on the side of the bed.
‘Only after you’ve shown me what you have behind your back.’
‘It’s a deal.’ And he produced the green velvet box. ‘I meant to give you this on our wedding night. But I got waylaid by a wanton lady in wicked white suspenders.’
She frowned down at the box, then up at him. ‘It looks like a ring…’
‘Why don’t you open it and find out for sure?’
She did, gasping at the sight of the diamond-and emerald-encrusted band. ‘Oh, Jason, it’s lovely! Why, it matches my engagement ring exactly.’
‘That was the idea.’ He took it from the box and slid it on her finger.
‘And it fits exactly!’ she exclaimed delightedly.
‘It’s called an eternity ring,’ he explained. ‘Which means you’re mine now, Emma…for ever and ever.’
She touched the ring as though it were the most precious thing in the world. ‘For ever and ever,’ she murmured, before looking up, her eyes clouding a little. ‘That’s a long time, Jason.’
His heart lurched, but he kept his face steady. ‘For ever with you won’t be long enough, my darling girl,’ he whispered, and, bending, kissed her tenderly on the lips.
When his head lifted, her eyes were swimming.
‘If you cry again,’ he warned, wagging his finger at her, ‘I will have to take stern measures.’
She smiled through her tears. ‘Such as what?’
‘Such as making you stay in bed with me for the rest of the day.’
‘Oh, dear. Such a terrible punishment.’
Jason loved the way her lips started twitching as she struggled not to laugh or smile. She had a wicked little sense of humour at times. He’d found that out when they’d watched movies together.
He kept a straight face himself with great difficulty. ‘Wives must be taught their place, right from the word go!’
‘And where is that?’
‘Under their husbands, of course. So tell me, wife,’ he said, deliberately keeping things light and teasing, ‘what are these wicked things I make you think of and want to do?’
Her eyes slid away, and the colour zoomed back into her cheeks. ‘I…I don’t like to say…’
‘Emma, darling, there should be no secrets between husbands and wives, especially in the bedroom. Tell me. I won’t be shocked.’
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking her head. ‘Oh, I simply can’t.’
‘Of course you can. I’m a doctor.’ And he grinned at her.
‘This is serious, Jason!’
‘No, it’s not, Emma. Not always. Sex can be fun too, you know. The trouble is people get all uptight about it. Like you did before our wedding. They wonder and worry too much. If you want me to do something, or vice versa, then you must say so. I know it can be a bit difficult, but once you’ve expressed your desires out loud the first time, you’ll find it easier the next time. Try it. Tell me one thing you want to do. Just one thing.’
She stared at him, then visibly swallowed. ‘All right…I’ll try…’ Her eyes shifted from his, and her cheeks glowed pink. ‘Sometimes,’ she said huskily, ‘when I look at you, I…I want to touch you so badly. Like now…with you sitting there like that…I want to reach out and…and…’
He could see her courage was failing her, so he took her hand and placed it in his lap. Her soft fingers rested against his semi-erect penis. ‘Oh!’ she gasped, staring down at him as it began to swell further. Carefully, gently, he moved her hand so that she was stroking the rapidly lengthening shaft. Without being told, she suddenly encircled it totally with her hand and exerted a wonderful pressure.
He could not help it. He groaned. Her hand froze and her eyes flew up, their expression a mixture of confusion and fascination.
‘Did I hurt you?’
‘God, no,’ he rasped. ‘Keep going.’
‘I…don’t really know what to do.’
‘You’re doing wonderfully.’
‘It…it feels lovely,’ she whispered, once he was fully erect. ‘So strong and smooth. And this bit is like satin…’
He sucked in a sharp breath when her fingertips grazed over the head. Her eyes came up again, and this time they were knowing upon him. ‘You like that, don’t you?’ she murmured as she repeated the action over and over.
He must have choked out something.
‘Tell me what else you like?’ she insisted.
Jason was tempted, but he knew it was too soon. Besides, he was fast reaching the point of no return. So he whisked her hand away and whipped her under him on the bed. ‘This,’ he growled, and surged deep inside her. ‘This is what I like.’
The week went quickly, but perfectly. Jason could not have been happier. Emma was everything he’d already known she was, and everything he’d hoped she’d be. Giving and loving, warm and quite wonderful. And that was out of bed.
In bed, she was just so beautiful, and flatteringly insatiable for him. Soon, she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her, and that was saying something, since he wanted her all the time. All those wonderful holiday activities Narooma was famous for swiftly went by the board in favour of traditional honeymoon activities. They did leave the unit to dine each evening, and they did sleep for a few hours each night, and sometimes during the afternoon, but that was about it. The rest of the time was spent making love.
On their last afternoon, Emma insisted on a visit to the golf course. ‘You told me last week how much you were looking forward to playing a round here. Besides,’ she added, ‘I’d like to learn to play myself. Do you think you could teach me?’
Jason was surprised. Most young women didn’t care for golf at all. ‘Sure I could, but do you really want to play?’
‘Married couples should do things together,’ she stated simply. ‘‘Whither thou goest, I will go’.’
Jason liked the image of togetherness this projected, but not the reference to the dutiful wife, Ruth, in the Bible. Emma’s penchant for duty rather irked him when applied to their personal relationship. He wanted her to do things with him because she enjoyed them, never because she thought it was her job. ‘You should only play golf if you really enjoy the game, Emma.’
Her frown was thoughtful. ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed, then flashed him a sweet smile. ‘But how will I know I enjoy something if I don’t try it?’
Jason could not complain about the logic in that. ‘Fair enough. Do you have any clothes suitable for golf with you? You can’t play in a dress.’
‘Will shorts and T-shirt do?’
‘Fine. What about on your feet? You can’t wear sandals. They’ll slip.’
‘I have some sandshoes.’
‘They’ll do. For now. But if you like the game I’ll buy you some proper golf shoes.’
‘I can afford to buy my own shoes,’ she said, then hurried off to dress, leaving Jason to throw a rueful look after her. What a contradiction in terms she was sometimes! Wanting to be an old-fashioned wife to him, yet at the same maintaining a very modern financial independence.
Jason wasn’t sure if he liked either, which was perverse. What was not to like?
Emma was a bit quiet on the drive to the golf course, her face turned away from him. She might have been admiring the scenery—the view of the blue Pacific beyond the emerald-green fairways was spectacular—but he had a feeling her mind was a million miles away.
‘Is there anything wrong, darling?’ he asked softly, after he’d parked the car and she was still sitting there, totally unaware that they’d c
ome to a standstill and he’d turned off the engine. Her head jerked round, a stiff smile hiding whatever emotion she’d swiftly wiped from her face.
‘No. Not really. It was just thinking…we have to go back tomorrow, and I…I can’t say I want to.’
Jason sighed with relief. So that was it! She didn’t want their honeymoon to end. An understandable reaction, but nothing to worry about. For a moment there…
He reached out to lay a gentle hand against her cheek. ‘I know how you feel,’ he murmured. ‘It would be lovely to stay here for ever, wouldn’t it? Just you and me and no one else.’
Her hand came up to cover his and she leant her cheek into his palm. ‘Yes,’ she said simply, and looked deep into his eyes, her smile soft and full of tenderness. Jason’s body immediately began to ache for her again.
‘Time for golf, I think,’ he said, and abruptly withdrew his hand, turning his head away.
Teaching Emma to play golf was a welcome distraction. So was her aptitude for the game. ‘You’re going to be a handy little player with some practice,’ he complimented her when they were well into the second nine.
‘But I’ve lost nearly all of your balls!’ she wailed. ‘Two in the ocean and three in that awful lake back there!’ And she pointed angrily at the wide water hazard now behind them, her face still flushed with frustration. Stubborn by nature, she’d been determined to hit over it and not around, and three times her ball had gone to a watery grave.
‘There are worse things in the world, Emma,’ he commiserated, ‘than lost balls. I still have two left; one for you and one for me.’
She stared at him, then burst out laughing. Only then did he realise what he’d said, and he grinned. ‘Yes…well, shall we call it a day and go home?’
‘No fear! I’m determined to finish. And to get better.’
‘You’re darned good for a beginner already.’
Her surprised pleasure touched him. Hadn’t anyone ever told her how good she was at anything before?
‘Really?’ she asked.
‘Really.’
‘I suppose I’ve always been pretty good at doing things with my hands.’
‘Mmm. So I’ve noticed,’ he murmured.
Her blush was instantaneous, her gaze skittering away from his. Jason could not help but smile. When her eyes returned to his, he was surprised to see they carried a slight frown. Her mouth opened to say something, then shut again.
‘What?’ he queried.
More colour, but this time she held his gaze and spoke. ‘You once told me I shouldn’t be scared to tell you anything…or ask you anything… About sex, that is.’
Jason tried not to look surprised, or alarmed. ‘That’s right.’
‘What you said just now about my being good with my hands… I’ve been thinking… I mean… Oh, dear, this is difficult.’ And she glanced around to see if anyone was nearby. There wasn’t, the back nine of the course almost deserted at this late hour in the afternoon.
Jason waited patiently for her to get over her embarrassment and continue.
She bit her bottom lip and refused to look at him, instead finding a target for her eyes somewhere on the grass before going on in halting whispers. ‘I’ve been wondering…why you haven’t asked me…to…um…do more…in bed.’
‘More?’ Jason repeated a little numbly while his heart raced. ‘What, exactly, do you mean?’ he asked.
Her eyes swung to his, glittering now within their bright pink setting. She’d never looked so embarrassed, or so incredibly desirable. ‘Oh, Jason, please don’t make me spell it out. You must know what I mean. You’re an experienced lover. And, while I’m not, I have read all those magazine articles which go on about the things men most like in bed. There’s one especially, which crops up all the time. I’ve been wondering why you haven’t asked me to do…that. You said I was to always ask for things I wanted. Why haven’t you? Wouldn’t you like me to…to do that to you?’
Her questions flustered him almost as much as they were flustering her. ‘I…well…yes, of course I would. But I didn’t think you’d want to. I mean…women usually only do that when they…er…um…’
‘When they’re madly in love with their partner?’ she finished for him.
‘I guess so,’ he agreed uncomfortably, although he’d been going to say when they’d been having sex a little longer than a week.
‘What about wives? Wouldn’t wives generally do it for their husbands?’
‘Emma, I don’t feel comfortable with this conversation.’
‘Why not?’
He was beginning to get irritated. Why not? Because it smacked of the same thing as her wanting to unpack his clothes and iron his shirts and bring him breakfast in bed. He didn’t want her thinking she had to do things like that, just because she was married to him. Fellatio was not part of her job description as his wife!
‘Did Adele do it?’ she demanded to know.
Hell, what was he going to say to that?
‘Not often,’ he mumbled.
‘Did you like it when she did?’
Hell on earth! ‘Yes,’ he bit out.
‘Then I want to do it too,’ she said stubbornly. ‘I want to do everything you like. Do you understand me, Jason? I want to.’
He understood, only too well. And, while it pained him, he knew he’d be too weak to say no.
Besides, he thought with a bitterly ironic twist on what she’d said earlier, how did he know she wouldn’t enjoy it, if he didn’t let her try?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JASON woke to an empty bed. Light was filtering in through the curtains, but it felt early. Rolling over, he picked up his watch from the bedside table and looked at the time. Only ten past five.
He glanced around, looking for Emma. The en suite bathroom door was wide open. She wasn’t in there. Possibly she’d gone to the toilet in the main bathroom, so as not to wake him. That was the sort of sweet thing Emma would do.
The memory of her last night, however, did not conjure up thoughts of sweetness so much, but the most incredible passion. She’d been shy at first, though clearly determined. Any worry Jason had had over how he might react to such an intimacy was soon obliterated. He’d been so turned on he’d ended up demanding all she had to give. And more!
He hoped he hadn’t shocked her.
She hadn’t seemed shocked. She’d curled up to him afterwards like a cat who’d licked up all the cream, a purring, contented cat. Yet now she was gone from the bed, when she should have been still beside him, sleeping the sleep of the sated.
Throwing back the covers, Jason walked, nude, out into the living room. A pre-dawn glow was shining through the open glass doors and onto the blue carpet, the rectangle of light broken only by the figure on the balcony. Emma was standing there, leaning against the railing, watching the sun rise, wearing his navy silk bathrobe.
His mouth was creasing into a relieved smile when, suddenly, her head dropped into her hands and her shoulders began to shake.
Appalled, Jason rushed across the room and wrenched open the glass door. With a strangled sob, she whirled, and he saw the devastation in her face. The utter, utter devastation.
‘My God, Emma,’ he cried. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Oh, Jason!’ She was shaking her head and crying at the same time.
He came forward and took her in his arms, oblivious of the cool dawn air pricking his skin into goose bumps. ‘Tell me,’ he insisted.
‘I don’t know how to,’ she choked out, and buried her face into his chest.
He put a finger under her wobbly chin and lifted it so that she had to look him straight in the eye, even though hers were flooded.
‘You must tell me what’s wrong, Emma. You can’t cry like this without telling me what’s the matter.’
‘It…it’s Dean,’ she confessed, bravely blinking back the tears. ‘He’s back.’
His hands dropped away from her face as though stung. ‘Back? What do you mean, back? Yo
u mean in Tindley?’
She nodded, her eyes wide and frightened.
Confusion warred with apprehension within Jason. ‘How could you possibly know that?’ he asked. ‘Did someone ring here during the night? Did you ring someone in Tindley?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Then make sense, damn you,’ he snapped, and she flinched. He hadn’t meant to swear at her, but God in heaven, he was only human. His worst nightmare was happening and he couldn’t even get a handle on it.
‘He…he came back the day of the wedding,’ she said on a raw whisper, fear still in her face.
Jason was staggered. ‘On the day of our wedding? When? Where? Where did you see him?’
‘Please, let’s go inside. I don’t want to discuss this out here.’ And she bolted from the balcony into the living room. He followed, slamming the glass door shut behind him.
‘You saw him, didn’t you?’ he flung at her, and she flinched again. Oh, yes, she’d seen him, he suddenly realised. Nothing short of a personal visit could have rattled her like this.
And then the penny dropped, and a chill rippled through him.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ he said coldly. ‘I get the picture. He showed up at your place just before the wedding. That’s why you were late at the church. So what did he want? As if I don’t know!’
‘Oh, Jason, please don’t be like that! Oh, God, this was what I was afraid of all this week. How you would react.’
‘You should have told me, Emma.’
‘When? When could I have told you without spoiling our wedding, and then our honeymoon? I wanted to give us a chance to start right. I didn’t want you to…to…’
‘To what? To know you were thinking of Ratchitt every time I made love to you? To worry that you might have married me just because you thought it was the right thing to do, or because you didn’t have the guts to call the wedding off at the last moment? You haven’t done me any favours, Emma, marrying me when your heart is breaking over another man. Which reminds me, just who were you going down on last night? Me, or Ratchitt?’