“No. I haven’t spent the last fourteen years shagging my way around the island and other places.” He shook his head, but he was smiling. “If I didn’t know you were better, I’d think you were jealous.”
“I was.” I swallowed. I hadn’t planned on having this conversation with him anytime soon. “I hated it when you had a girlfriend.”
He squinted, watching a gull dive-bomb into the water. “Why? I never thought you were bothered.”
“Because I wanted it to be me.”
Silence. It didn’t surprise me. When he was about to say something big he’d think about it first.
“I never knew that.”
“Really? I thought you knew I liked you?”
“I knew you liked me – as a friend. But I was just this boy who had a crush on you and couldn’t form a sentence the first time he met you because I was that starstruck.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling. “I didn’t think you’d ever want a boy who lived on an island who was obsessed with the sea.”
“Did I never tell you that it was top of my bucket list.” I put my arms around him, aware of the drone, aware that Peter Cash could be somewhere nearby, but that didn’t matter for a moment. “Your dad’s right about us moving in together.”
He nodded. “He probably is. If I still go to Antarctica, how about we look for somewhere when I get back? We can make do in Mavis’ until then and it’s closer to everyone for you while I’m away.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I can live with that. Can we go back to Mavis’ now?”
“You don’t want to get lunch?”
I grinned, kissing him, then, “There’s something else I’d rather do first.”
It still felt like a secret, even though we’d been plastered as a couple all over the internet. This though, the actual real thing that was happening between us, made me feel like I was a teenager again, sneaking around and trying not to give away what was actually happening, that we were desecrating Mavis’s house every chance we got because being together like this was still a novelty.
My back was pressed against the door before it’d even closed properly, Caleb’s mouth on mine, his tongue teasing open my lips, his hand pushing though my open coat to take hold of my waist, his signature move.
I’d always known that Caleb knew his way around a woman’s body, he’d given evidence of that the first time he’d touched me, but he’d seemed to learn mine precisely in the last couple of weeks. He knew where to glide his hands; which areas of my skin made me shiver when he glanced his fingers over them; how a hand sliding over the back of my thighs made my knees go weak. It was like I was a book he’d been studying for years and I wondered if that was the case.
He knew how I felt. I’d confessed as much, how I’d been jealous of every woman he had by his side who hadn’t been me.
But with my back against the door, it was now me. I worked his sweater out of his jeans, tucked in as normal, a lumberjack shirt thrown over it. My hands travelled over his abs and up onto his chest as if they were starved of touching him. They had been.
The desperation I felt when I touched him hadn’t gone yet. I wasn’t yet convinced that there would be more chances to do so, at least not as many as I needed. His muscles were taut under my hands, tense, as if he was holding back which I figured he was.
As well as we knew each other, there was still so much we hadn’t discovered. He pulled off my jumper and the tight T-shirt underneath, leaving me in just my jeans and bra. I was fast losing track of where I was or what the time of day was, which happened each time Caleb had his hands on me when no one else was around.
I lost myself. I forgot who I was meant to be because I only wanted to be here, and I didn’t care who I was meant to be anymore, because I liked who I was right now, feeling Caleb’s touch, his own desperation, his own need matching mine as we lost our clothes in the tiny living room which had room for just one small sofa and a chair, along with a TV and radio.
Caleb’s mouth trailed over my collarbone, his hands busying away at the buttons on my jeans, loosening them, pushing them to the floor along with my underwear, then his mouth was between my legs and my hands grasped onto his shoulders, seeking an anchor while I became boneless, his tongue teasing my clit, his hands cupping my arse as he held me close to him as if this was the only way he could quench his thirst.
“Play with your tits for me.” He broke his mouth away to whisper the order.
I didn’t argue, pushing my bra straps down, undoing the clasp and losing my bra, my eyes on Caleb’s as he watched me start to toy with my tits, playing with my nipples, purring at how spellbound I was while he fingered my centre, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.
I came hard, not expecting it right then, my body writhing, legs jelly-like. Caleb kept his hand in place, coaxing my orgasm to carry on, my wetness making his hand glisten.
“I don’t think we can here. The window - ” I managed to nod towards it in case he wasn’t sure what I meant.
Strong, big hands went to my hips, picking me up. I threw my arms and legs around him and let him carry me up the stairs, hoping no one or no drone was looking in right now. He half ran, the feel of his hard cock pressing against me through his jeans, rushing to get us onto the bed and a degree of privacy.
He fell on to the mattress first, the tumble somehow helping me gain my faculties, my hands tearing away his clothes, his shirt, sweater, loosening his jeans. As desperate as I was, he matched it, naked in record time.
Then I could look. Broad shoulders, heavy biceps, a stomach ribbed with muscles and dusted with light brown hair. His cock was big and hard, and my pussy clenched at the anticipation of having it inside me.
Caleb’s hands were clenched, his eyes on mine and his face contorted with control.
