Page 45 of The Cornish Christmas Book Clu
‘I get it. Totally. In many ways I’ve done the exact same thing.’ Gage pressed a soft kiss on her mouth. His fingers stroked through her scrappy ponytail that’d long since lost its oomph.
‘But?’
‘I still need to know you’re sure and won’t regret this in the morning.’
‘Would you like it in writing?’ she teased.
‘Oh, Tamara, what am I going to do with you?’ Gage chuckled.
‘I could suggest some things if you’re out of ideas.’
‘I’ve plenty of those. Trust me.’
‘I do.’ Her quiet response sent a glorious smile spreading across his face, and his eyes turned as dark as the night sky. A flutter of nervousness ran through her, but she pushed it away and tucked her arm through his. ‘Sensible’ could take a back seat tonight.
Chapter Seventeen
As soon as he nudged Tamara’s front door closed behind them, Gage’s hands slid to her waist and he started kissing her. He stopped briefly to tug her emerald green T-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Next to go was the plain white bra. She automatically crossed her hands over her exposed breasts. Gently and swiftly he moved them aside.
‘You’re beautiful. Don’t hide from me. Ever. Let’s get rid of these too.’ Gage helped Tamara wriggle out of her black leggings. ‘I’m pretty sure my knee won’t cope with much more standing up. Would you mind if we shifted this to a level surface somewhere?’
‘Absolutely.’
He appreciated that she refused to patronise him by waffling on about only teenagers finding it a turn-on to make love up against a wall or in the back seats of cars.
‘There won’t be any carrying you romantically up the stairs either.’
‘Bloody good thing too. Any man stupid enough to try that needs his head tested. And he’d probably require back surgery afterwards.’ Tamara took his hand. ‘Come on, and I’ll show you my—’
‘China pig collection?’
‘Oh, much better than that.’
* * *
Gage was desperate to straighten his stiff knee, but was afraid of waking Tamara so lay there immobile. He caressed the strand of her soft hair tickling his chest, but resisted the urge to wake her up. It challenged his self-control to behave like a man of thirty-seven who’d been around the block more than a few times, instead of a randy teenage boy. The stupid fears he’d clung onto about going to bed with a woman for the first time since his injury had proved to be exactly that — stupid. Yeah, he wasn’t as agile as he used to be, but when he warned her his chandelier-swinging days were over, Tamara joked back that her Asda lampshade wasn’t strong enough to survive being used as a sex aid anyway.
He hadn’t been the only one with reservations and hers, which revolved around her body and previous less-than-stellar experiences in the bedroom, had proved groundless too. He hoped it wasn’t boastful to think that his intuition about what she might like, or might not, had something to do with it.
‘Feeling pretty pleased with yourself, Mr Bennet?’ Her wide blue eyes gleamed up at him. ‘Quite the creative one, aren’t you?’
‘I like to think I have my moments.’ He shifted slightly and stretched out his leg. ‘I hate to say this but—’
‘You could do with walking around before your knee freezes up.’ A gentle smile creased her face. ‘It’s okay. But nothing is stopping us doing this again whenever we want.’ A flush of heat raced up her neck. ‘If you want to.’
‘Want to?’ Gage’s eyes drifted down his body and her gaze followed.
The blush was instant and fierce now.
‘There’s your answer.’ His fingers danced over her warm skin, skin that smelled of him.
Tamara cleared her throat. ‘You must be famished, so would you like breakfast... or...’ Her fingers did the walking and a groan slipped out of him when she reached her target.
‘Definitely or.’
* * *
Tamara dragged the last bite of toast around to soak up the smear of sauce from the baked beans and popped it in her mouth. Breakfast had turned into brunch, and not exactly agourmet Sunday one either, but Gage insisted it worked for him. ‘For pudding I’ve got a couple of choc ices in the freezer.’
