‘You do?’
‘Yeah, that’s how easy it is. I kind ofknewyou, you know?’
Joy did know, and the way he was looking at her now sent an instruction to her legs, making her rise slowly to her feet.
‘Like we recognised each other, or something?’ she said, half alarmed, half courageous, fully acting on compulsion.
Monty stood too, watching her with caution, not sure what was happening yet, abandoning his glass on the table.
‘It was like I’d been waiting for you.’ He pushed his chair away with his boot then stepped into the gap between them, stopping only inches from her, mirroring her parted lips. ‘What should we do?’ he asked, then smiled at the question. ‘I mean, what do youwantto do?’
She slipped her hands around his waist and into the curve of his lower back, pulling his stomach against hers. There was some awkward foot shuffling that made their toes bump and they both had to laugh.
His hands hung in surrender by his sides.
‘This is what I want to do,’ she told him, her voice barely a whisper, bringing her mouth up to his in a slow kiss that instantly turned his breathing ragged.
When she eventually pulled away again, his heavy-lidded eyes stayed fixed on her lips.
She spoke again. ‘Only don’t hold back this time.’
The words were enough to make him take her in his arms, drawing her as close as possible. This time he kissed her, withholding nothing, still determined to make sure she liked it.
When she wordlessly led him into the shop, letting the door lock behind them, leaving their empty wine glasses out in the moonlight, Monty followed in her irresistible wake up the curve of black iron stairs and into her bedroom.
Everything, from undressing in the soft light from the summer’s night sky beyond the glass, to pulling him down onto the bed and making him sigh and shiver as she kissed down his neck and over his taut chest and stomach, felt easy.
Monty had condoms but told her he wasn’t expecting anything at all and she only smiled and reached for the foil packet, sending him almost delirious with wanting.
They talked in whispers, instructing each other softly, making sure it was still all right, saying it felt so good, growing increasingly breathless and trying not to cry out loud as they moved together harder and faster, gasping for air, pushing closer to the edge, until Joy felt her entire nervous system come alive under his weight and she writhed and kissed him hard to stop the sounds escaping. Seeing her, feeling her, come undone around him, was all it took for Monty too, and they collapsed, gasping and laughing and kissing, looking in wonder into each other’s eyes like they were waking up from a long time spent in a dreamless slumber, recognising that they were perfect at this, perfect for each other in all the important ways.
Chapter Twenty-one
It was the journey of Monty’s hand over her back as he shifted in half-sleep that woke her.
Joy wasn’t sure how long she’d been out, but the sun wasn’t yet risen in the sky.
She allowed herself the luxury of taking him in; the way his chest rose and fell softly, and how soft the skin was over his stomach. His arm lay between them now, unmoving against the sheets, his fingers at rest. There was something of the summer light in his skin, as though he’d absorbed it all season long and emitted it now.
She had to lean in and kiss the soft spots that drew her gaze, working up over his ribs and onto his chest. The trail led her to the spot on his neck that, she’d learned last night, maddened him. The press of her lips was enough to awaken him fully and he drew her to him, stroking her hair back behind her ear.
‘Water?’ she asked in a whisper and he nodded. She pulled on a T-shirt and quietly left the room.
Once back in bed, having tiptoed past Radia’s room and drawn her door closed on the way to the café kitchen, they both drank.
‘All quiet?’ Monty asked.
‘She’s a good sleeper.’
‘What do I do in the morning? Should I leave before she wakes up?’
Joy had to think about that. ‘She won’t think anything of you being here, I mean, as long as you’re dressed. But she might tell people.’
‘Ah! And we don’t want Mrs C. profiting from any gossip about us?’
‘Exactly.’
‘You can both follow me down to the Siren, if you like, for breakfast?’
