Page 9 of Catch of a Lifetime
The bastard had the nerve tosmile. At least, his lips twitched.
He murmured something, low and heady. He tried to lift an arm but caught his breath before he’d raised it more than a couple of inches off the sand. He lowered it back down.
“What?” I said. “What is it? What do you need?”
His black lashes fluttered all the way closed, the faint smile faded, and his full lips pursed.
I waited. Was that a pain reflex, or?—
He grunted and exaggerated the pout.
No, he wanted me to kiss him. I could tell by the way he opened and closed his pursed lips in a deeply unsexy way, making kissy noises.
I leaned in, but before our lips touched, I burst into tears.
Dave’s eyes popped open and he attempted to sit up. He didn’t even make it to forty-five degrees before he winced and flopped back with a rough groan.
“Sorry,” I said, scrubbing at my face. “Sorry. Come here.” I cupped his chin, leaned in and pressed my lips to his in a butterfly-light kiss.
He stared at me when I pulled away, then made a querulous noise.
“Oh?” I said, managing a wobbly smile. “Want some more?”
He continued to stare. I stroked the backs of my fingers up and down his cheek, traced them along his jaw, then up to briefly touch his lips before I leaned down and kissed him again.
He gave a deep, throbbing purr as I spread my fingers along his jaw and rested my thumb at the point of his chin. I held him in place as I lifted away.
His indigo eyes, still heavy-lidded with pain, were more open now. I couldn’t have looked away if my life depended on it.
He said my name.
“Yeah, Dave,” I said, smiling down at him. “Hi. I love you.”
His eyes closed and the tension in his body eased. He made a soft sound at the back of his throat.
I traced my fingertips down to his neck, feeling for his pulse again. It was still fast, but—perhaps—a little slower. A little steadier.
I told myself it was, anyway.
His breathing was definitely more even.
Glancing at my watch, I was astonished to see how much time had passed. I looked up and over to the headland. I couldn’tquite see my house from here, as it was hidden by the rise of land, but I could see part of the access road leading up to it.
No sign of Jerry.
I glanced down at my watch again. He’d been gone a while, and it would be a while yet before he got back. The incoming tide, however, would reach us in the next few minutes. As I’d said to Jerry, I wasn’t bothered about getting wetter. I was already chilled and pruny.
Besides. I fidgeted. I had other, more pressing concerns to worry about.
I needed the loo.
Great timing.
This wasn’t remotely how I’d envisaged our great reunion going.
I’d assumed that it would go the same as it always did: I’d run into the sea as Dave swam through it to reach me. There would be a cinematic, rapturous collision of bodies, followed by a quick tussle as someone (usually Dave) grabbed someone’s dick, while someone else (usually me) shoved their tongue down someone’s throat.
On one standout occasion, it had been a combination of the two (my dick going down Dave’s throat).
