Page 57 of Head First
Hugh runs his thumb over my lip and down onto my chin. Slowly, he wraps his fingers around the back of my neck. My entire body flushes with pleasure. Looking into his eyes is so powerful I feel like I could explode, so instead I focus on his shoulders, which are rising just inches above the water, and I watch as the tendons of muscle that wrap around his neck flex. I remember how it felt to have my face tucked into the crook of his neck and I yearn for it. The muscle in his jaw pulses.
I can’t. I shouldn’t. Not again . . . not when I need clear boundaries. But what was I thinking, kissing him for the first time in the dark? And now . . . he’s lit up like a Greek god. How am I supposed to resist?
But you’re lying to him,the other voice in my head reminds me.
‘Millie,’ Hugh breathes, ‘how can you pretend like you don’t feel this?’
I stare at him. ‘I . . . I . . .’ My voice catches. There are so many things I want to say that I can’t bring myself to.How did we get here?How did we get from sniping at each other’s grammar to breathless in the ocean?‘I thought we were supposed to hate each other,’ I say dumbly, my thoughts jumbled and my words not making much sense.
‘Maybe,’ Hugh says, his voice low. ‘But I don’t hate you. I hate how we are sharing an impossibly tiny room that now smells entirely of your shampoo, but that you’re sleeping as far away from me as possible. I hate how you beat up on your curls when you’re worried about something.’ He looks at my hand, which is tugging on an errant curl. I gulp.
‘I hate how you always know just what to say to get under my skin and how determined you are to find a fish I don’t want to be found, but I don’t hate you.’
‘Don’t you when-Harry-met-Sally me,’ I say, although my words lack conviction. Our faces are still inches apart. Our bodies bob up and down with the waves. If I leaned in two more inches, I could taste him again.
‘When-Harry-met-Sally you?’ His eyebrows knit together in confusion, forming a wrinkle. I want to smooth it out with the pad of my finger.
‘You know . . . that movie . . . when he lists all the things he loves about her and makes her love him too.’ I can hardly form a sentence, I’m so distracted by the proximity of Hugh’s jawline.
Hugh shakes his head back and forth. ‘But I said all the things I hate about you.’ A lopsided grin forms on his face. He pauses, then says with a smile, ‘So it worked in the movie?’
I am frozen with indecision. Somewhere in the back of my brain, my body is making me kick to stay afloat. I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what to say.It did workin the movie. And it’s working on me.
‘Millie,’ Hugh says again, his voice deeper, thick with emotion. ‘Honestly, you’ve always intimidated me.’
‘Me?’ I scoff. Then I remember he’s really talking about Millie, and she can be quite intimidating.
‘But meeting you in person . . . you’re . . . you’re different. Softer . . .’
Under the water, Hugh runs his hand down my thigh and slowly pulls me closer. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain I’m aware that there’s time to break the spell, but I can’t manage to do it. I can’t force my body to move, my attraction is too strong.
I cave into his gentle pull and suddenly our bodies are touching everywhere. A sigh escapes my lips. Hugh takes a deep breath. Ninety per cent of my brain is in an electrified heaven. Ten per cent knows this is wrong.He thinks I’m my sister. The ninety per cent takes over.
Hugh’s hands caress my hips and the back of my head, his fingers gently pulling at my hair. Our faces are almost touching. Slowly, our lips meet, furtively grazing each other. Suddenly, we’re plunged into a long, fervent kiss, both of us hungry. Our tongues are greedy, searching for the depths of one another. Our hips lock together and move in unison against each other. I bring both of my hands around the back of his head and finally get to dig my fingers into his hair. I feel him hardening through his swimsuit. I am wet in more ways than one.
I’m surprised to remember how he feels so viscerally, even though we just kissed yesterday, I feel like I’m having the best kind of déjà vu.
Hugh runs his fingers underneath the seam of my swimsuit and tugs at the string. I return the favour, slipping my thumb down the front of his waistband. He slips his hand over the front of my bikini and palms my breast, his finger caressing my nipple. I gasp.More, I think.I want more.
Our breathing becomes laboured, both of us focused on each other and not enough on staying afloat. A wave crashes over the top of our heads and drenches us, bringing the moment to a crashing halt.
We separate underwater, both of us pulling ourselves to the surface to take in gulps of air.
Hugh looks at me with a glint in his eye and inclines his head towards the boat. ‘How do you feel about going somewhere a little—’
He’s interrupted by another wave that surges around us.
‘Less choppy?’ I supply, once we’ve both caught our breath again. He nods, a wicked grin spreading across his face. ‘Race you to our room,’ I say, diving under and kicking as hard as my fins will let me.
Hugh is fast to follow, grabbing for my ankle with his fingers and barely missing, his fingertips dragging along my foot, the touch enough to make me want to wrap my legs around him all over again.
We reach the side of the boat at the same time, breathless. I reach up for the ladder rungs and Hugh trails his fingertips up my inner thigh under the cover of the water.
‘How was it?’ Pippa asks, her head popping over the railing.
Hugh’s fingertips disappear. I wipe the smile off my face as fast as I can, but my heart thunders in my chest.
‘Fine!’ I say, hauling myself onto the deck. I try to readjust my swimsuit as nonchalantly as possible. I can’t tell from Pippa’s face whether anyone saw us making out in the water.
