Page 63 of Oz
He squirms at my suddenly tight grip and looks questioningly at me.
“Got a bit chilly in the sea breeze,” I say hoarsely, and he instantly rolls up and throws his arms around me.
“I’ll warm you up,” he says, laughing and giving me a lascivious look, and I let him fuss over me and kiss me but inside I’m planning.
He’s not going to go under gladly or willingly but he’s right, even though he was joking. He does warm me all the way through into the dark, cold corners that have always been there. I need to be patient and love him silently because if he guesses he’ll be off quicker than a greyhound.
Chapter
Thirteen
I just didn’t want to get his hopes up
ONE MONTH LATER
Oz
I come awake to soft kisses on the nape of my neck and warm arms around me. “Mmm,” I say meditatively and snuggle back.
He chuckles, and I feel the vibrations run through me. “Time to get up, Pika.”
I open one eye blearily. “When are you going to stop calling me that?”
He laughs and throws back the sheets and smacks my arse. “Never. You’re my Pika and that’s how you’re going to stay. Now get that cute backside out of bed and walk the dogs with me.”
I roll over and look at him indignantly, which is hard because he’s naked and warm and rumpled. “I think I’m going to havetrouble walking this morning, let alone going on one of your route marches through the Cornish countryside.”
“One time we went further than a mile, Oz.One time. You act like I’m inducting you into the SAS.”
“I’m sure the SAS didn’t have you pounding their arse all night.”
He grins and rubs my bum. “Aw, are you sore?”
I nestle back into the bed and grab the sheets. “Yes. I think that the NHS Direct prescribes bed rest in these circumstances.”
His eyebrow arches. “They’ve obviously got very worldly since I last rang them.” He strokes my hair back. “You work so hard, Pika. Lie in today,” he says, and it almost sounds like tenderness in his voice. I’m not sure because I’ve never had that directed at me by a man before.
I eye him, and he flushes slightly and gets up. “I’ll walk the dogs.”
He pads over to the window and looks out while stretching. I settle back into the sheets and watch him. This is my favourite part of every morning. Silas is one of the busiest people I know. He rushes here, there, and everywhere and consequently has no time for the gym. However, his work is so physical that he has an amazing body. He isn’t gym-honed and doesn’t have a perfect six-pack, but he’s muscled and fit and very masculine.
I think this early morning tradition of standing at the window and stretching is his own version of yoga, when he stretches his body to be ready to meet the day and runs things through in that busy mind of his. I love it because his eyes are tranquil and content before the stresses of the day hit him.
I think back over the last month and relax into the mattress even more. It’s been a strange and amazing time. If I’d been worried that the relationship would impact my work, I needn’t have bothered. I’m not the type to take advantage. If anything, Iwork harder, and Silas has been so busy that the decisions have been left to me anyway.
However, the nights have been ours, and it’s an old-fashioned word to use but I feel almost courted by him. We’ve criss-crossed across South Cornwall as he’s shown me places that the tourists can’t find. One night we loaded the dogs into the car and drove to a deserted cove. We’d walked them across the sands in the moonlight and talked and laughed. Another night he took me to a small pub on the cliffs where we ate mussels and drank a dry white wine while we watched a beautiful sunset lay stripes across the sea.
On the nights that he’s worked, I’ve waited for him and cooked. One night I packed a picnic and we took it down to his cove where I lit candles that guttered in the breeze as we ate and talked. He laughed when he found the lube and condoms in the picnic basket, declaring his mother would have been horrified, but he stopped laughing when I stripped naked and rode him in the moonlight.
I swallow hard because the sex just keeps getting better and it was pretty fucking epic to start with. I have no experience of relationships, but I can definitely see the pros for them if this is what happens. That lack of experience, however, leaves me floundering slightly. We’ve made no ties or commitments, and my contract ends in a few weeks, but surely there shouldn’t be this tenderness and care in something that should by definition be casual.
I’ll catch him looking at me sometimes with a focused look in his eyes. I know that look has never been directed at me before. It combines intense interest and a lively affection, as if in that moment I’m everything he can see.
I run my tongue over my lips nervously because it isn’t just him. He fascinates me. I’ve never met anyone who I can talk to like Silas. He’s clever and dry and has a snarky, sarcastic tongueon him. However, he’s also kind and decent and generous and sometimes I want to wrap him up in bubble wrap and save him from being hurt because his heart is so fucking wide open. My brow wrinkles because I don’t want to be the one who hurts him, and I sense I could.
He turns from the window, and he looks so unconcerned by anything that I clear my expression because my mind is wandering this morning. I’m getting fanciful in my old age. He grabs a pair of old black shorts and a grey sweatshirt that says Hogwarts on it and rather geekily proclaims him to be a house captain at Quidditch. It’s a favourite of his and it’s so ancient that it’s stretched out and the print is faded and barely legible. His eyes are sleepy and his face has a pillow mark down one cheek but he makes me warm inside.
I clear my throat. “No underwear, Silas. You’re quite the hussy these days.”
