Chapter Nine

“Tom!”

Keira paused on the little half landing and listened for a sound, a clue. Getting none, she called again, louder. “Tom!”

She reached the last flight of steps now and halted, ears straining. She couldn’t hear anything, no water or creaking floorboards, so she turned the corner and climbed the last few steps. Her stomach fluttered as her ears caught the noise of drawers opening and closing up above. A lamp clicked on in a room at the far end of the landing, light spilling out from a half-open door.

Forcing her leaden legs to move forward, she walked in the direction of the light. She was ready. She couldn’t hold back anymore. If Tom wanted her, he could have her. “A life lived in fear is only half lived”. That’s what Alex had flung at her when she’d said she wasn’t going with him, though Keira doubted he’d meant she should leave him and start a fling with another man.

Sometime in the past hour, between the park and the house, she’d made her decision. Maybe it had been as Tom sat beside her on the bench and told her he wasn’t prepared to let her go that easily. Maybe it was when he’d joined in with the children’s games and given himself so generously to them. At some point today, she’d made the choice to leap into the chasm.

Forget tomorrow. Or as Tom would say: carpe diem.

She stopped outside the door. “Tom… I’ve brought you a coffee.” Her voice sounded weird.

She pushed the heavy door with her foot as more liquid slopped onto the carpet.

His bedroom was bigger, possibly, than her whole flat, and the ceilings were half as high again. A big sash window faced the door, the heavy brocade curtains held back by tasseled ties, framing the slate sky outside. She stifled a giggle that made the coffee spill. He obviously wasn’t bothered about neighbours.

And the bed. The sight of it made her legs almost buckle. It was a great ornate thing, who knew how old. Flanking it were two little tables with lamps sitting on them, each casting a warm pool of light on the heavy damask cover. On the opposite wall stood a vast walnut wardrobe and a gentleman’s chest of drawers, almost as tall as she was. Facing the chest, one hand in an open drawer, was the naked figure of Tom.

From his broad shoulders to his endless legs, he was all lean hardness and sinewy muscles. His powerful buttocks were a pale gold against the darker honey of his back. Curling its way across his lower back and bottom was a tattoo. A swirling pattern of whorls and curves that drew her eyes and fixed them on its strange, exotic beauty. She gripped the mugs tighter in her hands, ignoring the ache in her fingers. Half the coffee had gone by now, but Keira didn’t care.

As he turned around, she had to gulp down a tiny cry. Oh wow, if his rear view was amazing, the front was even better. His solid chest was sprinkled with curly hair, the narrow hips set on long, muscled legs. She wanted him so much, could feel by the way her nipples were already proud and pointing, demanding the touch of his fingers or the soft caress of his mouth.

“Keira…what?”

Tom was frozen to the spot with shock.

A wet, flushed Keira stood in front of him, her hair stuck to her head, her fleece and jeans damp and steaming. Tom’s heart flipped as he saw her fingers gripping a mug in each hand so tightly she might snap the handles off.

He felt a rush of protectiveness racing over him. She was in his bedroom gaping at him like he was the first naked man she’d ever seen. It was innocent and yet powerfully erotic.

How the hell was he supposed to walk away from this one?

He’d been so glad he’d had an excuse to come up here out of the way of temptation. He’d had every intention of showering, getting dressed and then locking himself in the kitchen while she did the same, but now he’d have to be a saint not to want her in his bed. His throat tightened. He was definitely no saint.

“Keira.”

The mention of her name sent a shiver through her body, and coffee tipped over the edge of the mugs and onto the carpet. It seemed to shake her out of her trance, and she drew in a breath sharply. “I’m so sorry, Tom. I…I’ve brought you a hot drink… Oh, look at the mess I’ve made!”

“It’s okay…” he said gently.

“Your lovely carpet, it’s all messy. I’ll get a cloth.”

“It’s fine. Stop worrying.”

“I didn’t know you were getting dressed. I should go.”

Tom wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not, and he didn’t care. Did she know she was driving him insane? He took the mugs, one by one, from her hand and put them on the bedside table. He didn’t think he could take this anymore.

He raked his hands through his wet hair, battling every impulse to take her. “Keira, go downstairs if you want, walk away if you need to, but please, do it now.”

Her face fell. “Do you want me to walk away?”

“What do you think? I want you to stay more than anything in the world, but I can’t give you what you deserve. I care about you but…”

Oh God, he felt a kick in the gut as he said it. Care sounded so lame, so pale a word for what he felt, what he was afraid to admit. What he wanted to say was: my life is mapped out for me and it can’t be changed. I don’t expect you to understand that.

Her fingers closed around his outstretched hand, and her eyes burned. “Tom, carpe diem.”

He couldn’t fight this anymore. She was like a bright and shining light in a dark world, and he needed her. “Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want? Only please, decide now, because I really can’t play the gentleman much longer.”

The raw edge to his voice shocked him. He sounded different, like the man he’d once been, a man who took risks again, risks that led to disaster.

“I don’t want you to be a gentleman.”

She’d lit the blue touch paper. Heaven help him, he was on his way to perdition.

As Tom drew her closer to his warm, hard, damp body, the thrill of danger and excitement made Keira’s head spin. His expression was tender and knowing at the same time, a heady combination that made her almost collapse.

“Do you want to drink this coffee now or after I’ve made love to you?” he whispered, his breath fluttering against her ear.

“After.”

The word was no more than a sigh as she pressed her lips to the damp skin of his bare chest and inhaled his freshly showered scent, all citrus soap and musky maleness.

“As you wish, but I’m warning you, it’s going to be some time.” He pulled her against the hardness between his thighs.

“You need a cold shower, Tom,” she whispered into his chest.

He tilted her chin up to look at him, and she saw him smiling down at her, his eyes sparkling with sensual promise. “No. It’s you that needs a shower.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“Absolutely. The classic treatment for hypothermia.”

“I don’t have hypothermia.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Keira, are you questioning my professional judgment again?”

She shook her head.

“I should bloody well hope not.”

As he began to undress her, she felt her body growing limp and weak. It felt so good to abandon control for once. A warm tide of pleasure flowed through her veins as he drew her sodden top out of her jeans and stripped the clinging fabric away from her stomach and breasts.

The top was over her head in a moment and on the floor, somewhere, she didn’t care where. Strong, capable fingers dealt swiftly with the fastening on her bra and slipped the straps off her shoulders, then peeled the clinging cotton from her breasts. He bent his head and touched a nipple with the tip of a pink tongue. Electric pleasure shot through her as his hands gripped her hips and he closed his mouth round the bud to suckle her.

Keira tipped her head back, desperate to cry out her pleasure. Her hands were on his back, his gilded skin like hard silk under her eager hands. His tongue rasped around her other nipple. He knelt before her, his tongue tracing a path around her navel, leaving a moist, warm trail of sensation. As he took down her jeans and knickers, she dug her nails into his shoulders and felt like weeping with desire.

Standing, he dragged her against his body, still warm and damp from the shower. Her breasts flattened against his hard chest, her legs pressed against his hair-roughened thighs, her eyes sought and devoured the tenderness and desire in his gaze.

Then he reached up a hand and skimmed her swollen lips with his thumb, and she melted. Why hadn’t she let herself do this before? Why had she wasted even one precious day, let alone weeks, when she could have tasted the joy of making love to Tom?

“You’re cold,” he murmured as a tremor shook her body. “Time for that shower.”

As she passed the black square of the window, she saw them both, completely naked, reflected against a stormy sky. In the recesses of her mind, she still knew she’d tried to avoid…this, but it didn’t matter now. Only being taken by him body and soul mattered now.

The soft carpet beneath her feet gave way to cool tiles as Tom pushed open the door to the bathroom. A wave of heat hit her, steam hanging like a thick mist in the air. The scent of soap and hot water filled her nostrils as he slid back the door of the cubicle and pulled her in after him, shutting them both inside.

His hand closed around the shower control.

“Ready?”

The whoosh of water took her breath away. Hard spray needled down on her shoulders and head as Tom crushed her mouth in a fierce, greedy kiss. His tongue was inside her mouth and hers in his. His erection throbbed against her stomach, and his fingers clutched her buttocks, slipping on her slick skin. Was this the man she’d met in the churchyard? This man, bruising her mouth with his kisses, holding on to her like a drowning man? If this was being sorted out, he could do it forever…

“Turn round!” Shaking water out of his eyes, he called to her above the pounding jet. A cry of shock flew from her mouth as she felt the sudden chill of the tiles against her aching breasts. Her hands struggled for purchase on the smooth and slippery surface. Spray pounded onto her shoulder blades and back.

“Tom.” Her voice was muffled by the wall.

“I need to get you warm.”

Keira’s skin was on fire at the first long stroke of his hand along her back. The tang of citrus soap filled the cubicle. She licked water droplets from her lips, flattened her nipples against the tiles and groaned with pleasure.

His hands swooped lower, gliding over her spine, the hollow of her back, the cheeks of her bottom, working the soap into a slick foam. Desire racked her body.

Her nails scrabbled uselessly against the tiles as his fingers fluttered between her thighs, soaping the wet curls She throbbed as he touched her, and her brain begged…please touch me, please touch me there…

“Turn round,” he said.

The jet of water blinded her, filling her mouth and making her gasp for air. She ducked to one side as his fingers closed gently around her upper arms.

Tom soaped her stomach just as thoroughly as everywhere else, swirling foam into her navel with his finger. She fingered his hair, thinking how slick and black it was. Water plummeted down her neck, the rivulets of foam and water running over and around her breasts, and dripped off her nipples.

Tom reached for the shower control and turned it down. The torrent quietened to a stream. “These need special attention,” he husked out as she arched her back, pushing her breasts forward. Her nipples stood to attention as he rubbed them gently with the soap, then dropped a blob of foam on each with his finger.

He handed her the soap as water dripped down his face. “Your turn…” Her hands shook as she took the slippery bar and rubbed it tentatively over his chest, where the dark hair was flat around his nipples. She bent her head and flicked her tongue over them, his groan of delight shooting desire through her. She washed his stomach, paying special attention to the ridges of lean, hard muscle.

“Oh!”

The soap shot out of her hands into the shower tray.

Oh damn! She’d not even got to the most important part. Reaching for him with slippery hands, she closed her fingers around him. Could he get any harder, any bigger? He pulsed against her gentle grip and moaned.

Oh yes, he could.

“That’s it,” he groaned, fumbling for the shower control. “I can’t stand anymore.”

The sudden silence filled her head as starkly as the noise. There was only the swish of the cubicle door and the faint drip, drip of the showerhead. Keira couldn’t see much through the fine mist that clouded the bathroom. Tom grabbed her hand and hauled her, trembling with need, into the bedroom.

She bumped a shin against the dressing stool as he dragged her towards his bed. The carpet was sodden as she trod in his wet footprints. The cool air after the heat of the shower zinged her dripping skin, and she was shocked, joyous at his response to her.

Silk brushed her calves as he swiped stray clothes from the coverlet of his bed. Then she lay pressed against the cover, with the glorious weight of his body on top of her. His kiss now had nothing gentle about it. It was urgent, forceful and demanding. And she was just as greedy to taste him, to have her lips bruised by sweetness. Her hair soaked the satin covers, the pillows, everywhere. Water ran off his chest and fell onto her bare breasts.

All at once, he knelt above her, dark and powerfully aroused. He spread her thighs apart and dropped his head. As he parted her folds, she stiffened, then arched her back to invite his velvet tongue. Oh and how he tormented her, punishing her with hard, insistent strokes. Moistening the swollen bud of her clit with a gentle lick, then feathering it with a cool breath.

“Mmmm…”

As he licked, she fisted the silk cover in her hands and moaned. Screwed her eyes tight as the sensation built around the tightening, swollen bud, spreading through her limbs in pulsating waves of pleasure and torment. Her knuckles ached as she bunched the coverlet.

The soft tearing of foil made her open her eyes. Tom’s face was suffused with hungry desire, and his hands shook as he ripped open the packet and took out a condom.

“I want you so much.” His voice held a tremor as he reached out a hand to tease a wet strand of hair off her face. Keira spread her legs wider. There was no going back now.

She heard the sharp intake of breath, heard the savage urgency in his voice. “Touch yourself…touch yourself there…” he panted as he sheathed himself.

Arching her back, Keira slipped her fingertips into her heat, feeling how swollen and slick she was from Tom’s stroking. He watched, open-mouthed, chest heaving for a second or two. Then all at once, his glorious weight was on top of her once more, and he eased himself between her thighs and pushed his hard length inside her.

“Sweet hell on earth…” he murmured. Keira clutched his back, feeling her orgasm build as he nudged deeper. It was such a tight fit, even though she was slick and dewy. He licked a drop of water from her lips.

“Keira…”

She clamped her legs around his buttocks and dug her nails into his back.

“Like that, is it?”

“Hmm.”

He thrust into her hard, and she cried out as hot waves engulfed her. Tom, buried deep inside her slick heat, felt her throbbing around him. Was this what it was like to want to possess a woman utterly, totally? To fill her up until she could hardly bear it? To want to be part of her, body and soul? He groaned as his chest tightened, knowing in some small part of his fast-dissolving consciousness, that this was much more than lust or need or want. Then his own climax followed, blowing everything away and sending him into oblivion.

 

 

Hours later, limp and wrecked with lovemaking, and needing another shower, Keira lay, staring at the dark windowpane opposite the bed. Rain was still running down the sash as the wind whipped a twig against the glass. The cotton sheets brushed against her naked skin, and facedown next to her, one arm flung over the pillow, the sheet barely touching his thighs, lay Tom.

Still nude, still magnificent and still with the amazing tattoo.

And she had slept with him.

She wondered at herself, at how she, of all people, who had once been branded dull and timid, had taken such a risk. Making love with him had brought an intense intimacy between them that would, one day soon, have to be paid for.

But not yet.

Now was the time to share each other’s bodies joyously and without fear.

Softly, half afraid, half hoping she’d wake him, she reached out and lightly, so lightly, began to trace a path across the strange design that branded his body. Stirring, he pushed out a long, deep breath.

Keira lifted her hand from his skin as he shifted his head to face her. His eyes gleamed with amusement and daring.

Keira wanted to blush but realised it was probably way too late for that. The things they had done together—new things—had made her feel bolder, more confident. She thought she’d enjoyed sex before, for a time. And it wasn’t as if Alex had been rough or uncaring, not until that last night. In fact, she had to admit, Tom was much more forceful in the physical sense. The way he’d dragged her from the shower and thrust her onto the bed, ordered her to touch herself… She had never experienced that kind of urgent, demanding passion before.

Yet, somehow, Tom’s lovemaking had infinitely more tenderness about it. It held a sweetness and eroticism that had overwhelmed her reason and made her desperate to pleasure him back…and she would. In their brief time together, she would learn how to please him every bit as much as he’d pleased her.

She let him pull her to him, his body feeling hard and comforting against her own soft curves. Pushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes with his thumb, Tom dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. “Much as I’d like to stay here all night, we must live. Are you hungry?”

Her stomach rumbled. “I had no lunch, only a bite of cheese sandwich, and I’ve done lots of exercise.”

“Let’s go and eat, then. I’m absolutely starving.”

“What about my clothes?”

“Who needs them?” he asked mischievously, then at her open mouth, added: “I’ll put them in the washer-dryer. They’ll be done by morning.”

“You’re being presumptuous again.”

“Damn right I am. Now, do you want any food or not?”

He climbed out of bed and went into the en suite, returning with a navy cotton robe.

“Don’t you ever shut your curtains?” asked Keira as he stood next to the bed, clearly reflected in the sash window.

“What’s the point? We don’t have any neighbours, and frankly, I’m not ashamed to walk around naked in my own home.”

She laughed out loud. “It’s Charlie’s house, remember?”

“Whatever,” he said, holding out the robe. “Now, will this cover your modesty, my lady?”

She pushed back the sheet and shuffled over the bed. “It’s a bit big, and I hadn’t got you down as a robe man. But then again, I can always be surprised.”

With a frown, Tom glanced down at the dark blue material. “It was a Christmas present from my mother.”

“That explains a lot.” She laughed, climbing off the bed and allowing him to drape it round her shoulders. Slipping her arms into the sleeves, she found her fingertips barely reached the end. While calf-length on a guy of Tom’s stature, it brushed her toes. The sleeves had to be rolled back several times and the belt wrapped around her twice. “Are you going to do the cooking like that?” she asked, staring at his naked body.

“Perhaps not.”

She watched as he hunted down the battered jeans from the floor and sat on the bed, pulling them over his legs. No boxer shorts were considered necessary, no T-shirt, shoes or socks.

“Come on, then,” he said as he saw her studying him. “Before I change my mind about dinner, madam, and have you instead.”

 

 

Having settled Keira in front of the banked-up fire with a glass of white wine, Tom bundled her jeans and T-shirt into the washing machine. Her knickers and bra went in too. He knew vaguely that the combination might have contraindications, but frankly, he didn’t care. He was perfectly capable of washing his own clothes, but as for the niceties of laundry, he couldn’t give a toss. Besides, he had other things on his mind, and they were thoughts both disturbing and comforting in equal measure.

He set to grilling the steak and unearthing what green things he could find. A couple of baked potatoes and the remains of a pre-packed salad would have to do.

He’d refused all offers of help from Keira and had ushered her out of the kitchen once already. He needed time to think, even though he knew it was way too late for caution now. The time for thinking had been this afternoon when he’d run past the playground or accepted a lift home in her car. Part of him told himself he had nothing to reproach himself for. She had come to him. He’d been perfectly honest and open about his intentions, and still, she wanted him. What had he got to feel guilty about?

A lot, actually… A hell of a lot.

He cursed himself as he became aware of the aroma of the broiling steak and whipped the grill pan out. Another minute and they’d have been past their best. They were well done as it was, but they’d have to do. He slid them onto a plate and rescued the potatoes from the microwave. He found a tub of soured cream in the fridge and heaped a blob into each one. Then ground black pepper onto the cream. It was hardly haute cuisine but never mind. He’d had a hell of a lot worse at public school.

Dinner was the least of his worries. He hoped Keira would forgive him for everything else.

“So, the Honourable Doctor Tom does the washing and cooking,” Keira teased him as she sat on the sofa, trays on their laps.

“I do wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he complained, cutting into his steak.

“Which bit? Honourable or a doctor?”

“Both. And besides, when you’ve lived in the rainforest, Keira, anyone can do anything.”

She sipped her white wine.

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe in a practical sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she replied, spearing a morsel of steak and popping it in her mouth.

“Well?” he asked.

The meat almost melted in her mouth. “You can cook a mean steak, I’ll give you that…” she mumbled

“But the jury’s out on the rest of me?”

“I’m afraid you get a C-minus for laundry. Verging on a detention.”

Tom sliced cleanly into his meat and stabbed a piece. He held it poised on his knife and gave her a very knowing look, daring her to carry on with the game. “I’m not sure that kind of talk will really improve my behaviour. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if I might have ruined all your clothes.”

She placed her knife and fork down carefully on the tray, feeling her appetite ebbing away as desire swirled in her stomach. “In that case, it’s detention, I’m afraid. After dinner. In your bedroom.”

Stop looking at me like that, she thought, picking up her knife again with unsteady fingers. “As for the rest, I’ll do you a detailed report at the end of term.” She pointed to her empty glass with her knife and gave him what she hoped was a sweet smile of encouragement. “Now, could I have more wine, please?”

 

 

Later, curled up against him on the sofa, the empty wine bottle on the floor beside her, she felt Tom slip a hand inside her robe and cup a breast. As her nipple beaded against his fingers, she felt the heat rise between her thighs and squirmed.

His other arm slid inside to weigh the other breast. Keira laid her small hand over his and stilled it. Her heart quickened with anticipation and nerves. “No… There’s something I want to do.”

She released herself from his arms and pushed herself to her feet on cotton wool legs.

His eyes were like midnight and his voice hoarse as he gazed up at her, standing nervously between his legs. “Am I going to like this?”

“I hope so,” she murmured, loosening the tie belt and taking hold of the lapels of the robe in both hands. She let it fall from her shoulders and slide down her body to lie on the thick carpet. The pleasure that bloomed in his eyes as he surveyed her naked body told her everything.

He reached for her, but she pushed his hands back to rest by his side and caught her breath. She had never been the most adventurous lover; now here she was stripping wantonly in front of Tom, deliberately tantalizing and teasing him.

She pushed his thighs apart and knelt in front of him. Heat from the fire whispered against her back as a log split and crackled in the hearth. Her fingers fumbled with the buckle on his belt, the leather stiff and unyielding, but she managed and then moved on to the metal button. Freeing it from the buttonhole, she laid her fingers on the zip as Tom gave a sigh of surprise and anticipation.

The zip eased down with a whirr, parting to reveal the soft hair around his hardening erection. Tom helped her along by sliding farther down the sofa so she could tug his jeans over his hips.

“I want to taste you.” She closed her eyes.

He felt her kiss between his thighs before she closed her mouth around him.

He let out a groan of pleasure.

She stopped, and he ached to feel her swollen lips on him again. What was he doing to them both? Where was his conscience? But as Keira’s full mouth closed around him again, he lost all reason. The sensation of her tongue gently exploring him washed away everything else. He shifted his hips as a warm wave of feeling rippled through his body.