Page 79 of Ride the Wave

‘This smells like you,’ I hear myself say drowsily as I nestle into it further.

The sex has made me delirious, and heat flushes through my cheeks as I realise how weird that sounded, my eyes flashing open to check he’s still there and he hasn’t run for the hills. Instead, I find him watching me, his eyes full of something I can’t put my finger on – contentment I think, or maybe just tiredness – as he laughs lightly.

‘Is that a good thing?’ he checks.

‘Mm.’ I close my eyes and relax again, relieved that he seems more concerned about what I’m thinking than the way-too-full-on stupidity of what I’m saying. ‘Very good.’

I don’t know how much time passes but I’m drifting off when I feel his lips press gently on my forehead before the mattress moves. I manage to lift my heavy eyelids to peer at him as he makes his way to his ensuite bathroom, the bed feeling too big and empty without him next to me. When he returns to slip back under the covers, I reach for him.

‘You’re back,’ I whisper happily, curling into him, hooking my leg over his and resting my head on his chest.

I hear him chuckle softly, before I finally drift off to the sound of his heartbeat.

*

The next morning, I feel the lightest of kisses brush against the top of my shoulder before I hear Leo quietly getting out of bed. My eyes are closed, my head drowsy, but I’m awake. He just doesn’t know that. As I hear him pull on his boxers and creep out the room, I smile into the pillow, a sigh of contentment escaping me before I can think too hard about it. I can’t get over how well I slept. Cradled in his arms, I was dead to the world.

I could stay in his warm, comfortable bed forever, but after a while, I hear the whir of his coffee machine and accept that it’s time to make a move. He’ll be needing to leave soon to surf. I throw the cover off me, swinging my legs out of bed and searching for my underwear somewhere on the floor. When I locate my thong, I pull it back on and slip the t-shirt he was wearing yesterday over my head. It smells like his cologne and I lift up the neck of it to fill my nostrils with his scent, grinning like an idiot and biting my lip, heat pulsing between my legs. God, just the smell of him and I’m wet again.

A clattering sound from the kitchen kicks my arse into gear and I slip into his ensuite bathroom to check my appearance before he gets back.

‘Whoa, sex hair much?’ I say to my reflection, raising my eyebrows.

After doing what I can with my fingers to tame it, I squeeze some of his toothpaste onto my finger and suck it, looking round for something I can use to take my make-up off from yesterday. I can’t believe I fell asleep in it; it is so unlike me. My skin will punish me for it later, no doubt. There’s nothing left out on the sides – just shower gel and shampoo in his shower – so I open the cabinet below the sink and discover a tidy range of products including a spare toothbrush still in its packaging and a nice-looking cleanser. That will do.

Nabbing both, I study the label of the cleanser while I brush my teeth properly, impressed at the brand. This is expensive stuff. There’s something sexy about a guy being on board with skincare. Or maybe Leo is just sexy full stop and everything about him delights me right now.Shit. I have to get a grip. I wash my face and dab it dry with a spare towel, carefully folding it and hanging it on the heated rail.

Then leaning my hands on his sink, I stare at myself in the mirror.

As I take a deep breath, the realities of what happened begin to seep in.

I need to give myself a pep talk.

Last night was amazing. Better than amazing. Incredible. Fuck it, it was life-changing sex. The kind of sex that makes me question what the hell I’ve been doing up until now. But – it can’t happen again. Itcan’t. For so many reasons.

Firstly, if anyone atStudiofound out – ifTonifinds out about this – I’ll never write for the magazine again. An editor can’t trust a journalist who screws her interviewees, can she? And worse than that, what if Michelle Martin knew about this? She picked me to talk to her son so I could write a moving and meaningful article for her biggest and most successful magazine. And what did I do? I fucked him. I’m pretty sure that’s not going to go down well. This could really affect my career, a career I’ve worked my arse off to forge, and I’m only just getting to where I want to be.

‘What have you done, Iris?’ I whisper to myself, grimacing.

Secondly, my flight home is booked for tomorrow. I only have today left to cobble together everything I need to write this big feature; I have to write up everything he said yesterday and I need to start structuring the piece so I have an idea of what else I might need to ask or see before I have to say goodbye to Leo for good.

My stomach lurches at the thought.

No.No. I don’t have real feelings for him, I can’t. This is just sex.

And it’s not too late to save the situation. Sort of. All I have to do is focus on what’s at stake here and resist temptation. Resisthim. I’ve only got one day left here, so that shouldn’t be too hard. I can control my urges and cut it off now when it’s not as complicated as it could get. Besides, he’s probably giving himself the same pep talk in the kitchen. We’re likely both on the same page and will be professionals from here on out.

I watch my shoulders relax in the mirror. Yes. I’ve got this.

21

By the time I emerge from the bathroom, he’s setting a mug of coffee down on my side of the bed. He straightens and spots me, his brown eyes brightening, a smile spreading across his devastatingly handsome face.Christ. Look at him. He’s still in his boxers, his remarkable, muscled torso on full display. He’s so perfect, it almost makes me want to cry. I can’t believe I’ve had sex with this man. I can’t believe I’ve been so lucky.

‘Hey,’ he says.

It’s warm and familiar the way he speaks, just one word and an ache tugs at my chest to be near to him, to tangle my fingers through that unruly hair of his and hold on tight.

‘Hey,’ I respond, my heart thrumming.

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