Page 79 of Meet You Half Way
“Yeah, that too. Well, at least how you’re notalwaysjust your body. Because I sure as hell want a piece of your ass when we get home tonight,” I smirked, watching his eyes darken.
“That can certainly be arranged,” he replied, laughing as I planted a kiss on his lips, uncaring of the people walking past us on the street as he kissed me back like only Mateo could and I knew that everything was going to be fine with him by my side.
Better than fine. Way better than fine.
EPILOGUE 2
2.5 years later
ajay
Iwas laughing by the time Nick staggered through the front door of our brand new house, trying not to wiggle lest he drop me on the doormat. Hardly auspicious for our very first step inside our brand new house.
The house that my clever man had built for us.
“There,” Nick announced proudly as he finally righted us, holding me in his arms like I weighed nothing. “Welcome home, baby.”
Those words burst to life in my chest as I squeezed Nick’s neck tight, bringing his mouth down to mine to claim a kiss. I could hardly believe that we were finally back here, back on the South Coast and about to embark on the next stage of our life together.
It had been a whirlwind to get here.
And it had all started with that accidental forced meeting in a stuck elevator with Jeff Jones, head of the record label where I had been working for the past two and a bit years, and ending with a handshake deal that brought to life mine and Nick’sdream of opening our own recording studio back in Esperance. Where it had all begun for us.
I’d only started talking to stave off the awkwardness of being stuck in a lift for over half an hour but Jeff Jones had seen my vision, had loved my idea of running this studio retreat where musicians and artists could write and record on location, in our own little idyllic piece of the coast.
That fateful elevator ride was the reason we were now just a week away from our very first booking, Jeff’s backing the soul reason why we’d been able to fast-track our plans by about ten years. My old guitar tutor, Drew Beatty, had signed on too and we now had a group of four investors plus the very powerful name of Jeff Jones’ record label making this dream our reality.
The hardest part had been finding this amazing block of land where Nick and I wanted to live our life together on the coast. The timing had been amazing, this acre block coming onto the market the very week we had started our search. It was a short five minute walk from the beach, tucked into the banks of the estuary and enveloped by the leafy green hinterland. I could not have imagined a more perfect location in my wildest dreams.
The other hard part had been watching Nick travel back and forth between Sydney and Espy while I stayed behind to finish my music degree. Nick had put enough miles on the road in our short lifetime together to power an entire village. Mateo’s uncle, Dante, had drawn up the architectural plans for us and Nick had contracted his old boss, Brad, to work on the build meaning he had been back working alongside Rob once again. I knew how much he had loved his time out here on the build site.
“Okay you can put me down now,” I garbled into Nick’s mouth where his tongue was making it hard to speak.
“I don’t think so, baby,” he smirked, arms tightening around me as his mouth skated along my jawline. “We have to christen every surface first. It’s tradition.”
“I don’t know which culture you’re from but that’s the first I’m hearing of this,” I laughed.
“We should start with the hallway here,” he added, walking a few steps until my ass landed on the hall table. He shifted my legs until he was between them and I wrapped my ankles around his body.
“And then what?” I asked, smoothing my fingers through his long hair as it came loose from the leather band.
“Then we move into the lounge room,” he grinned. “The bar looks nice and sturdy. Then we have the sofa, the dining table and the kitchen – ”
“That sounds a little unhygienic,” I cut in.
“Hmm?” he returned, eyebrow raised. “That never stopped you letting me fuck you on the kitchen benchtop back in our Sydney apartment.”
“I know but this space downstairs is meant to be a shared space with our clients and artists,” I pointed out, gesturing to the wide expanse of the lower floor. It looked like a miniature resort with its lofty pointed ceiling which was clad with wooden beams, large windows that looked out over the estuary and the cute bar in the corner we had already stocked with our favourite beverages.
“Exactly. So we better get busy before everyone else arrives,” Nick grinned, wriggling his eyebrows at me.
“That sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had, Nicky,” I agreed, digging my heels into his lower back and pushing him closer to my body. He didn’t hesitate, hands sliding down to my hips, drawing me in as he ground up against me, mouth back on mine as I moaned into his kiss.
I might not have heard of this tradition before, and I was pretty sure Nick had just made it up, but I sure liked the sound of it.
NICK
There was something about seeing Ajay so thoroughly wrecked by my own handiwork that I never tired of. The way he lay there, eyes closed with a look of pure bliss and contentment on that picture perfect face, that innocence shining through that we all now knew was entirely a myth. One I’d exposed many, many times over.
