‘I think that if you don’t, I might implode.’
He closed the gap and brought her to him. Her mouth was hot. The soft sound of her deep breathing was all he could hear, and his hands ran over her body in a frenzy. The nextthing he knew, he was on his back, and the weight of Opal was all over him.
He longed for a fraction of the desire that she felt for him. Because even in the daze of whatever it was that Johan had slipped into that bottle, even with the dizzying touch of flesh against his, when Noah opened his eyes and saw the beautiful woman who was mounting him, he felt no fire in his belly. No tingle in his fingertips. No yearning in his soul.
He was here now, though, and what kind of boyish behaviour would it be to turn away, and wimp out like he had the other night at the party? He’d known the promise he was making, then as he was now, by pulling her into his arms.
She had made her feelings known, but she had never been the one to make the first move; she was too much of a lady for that. Instead, on both occasions, she had waited for him to find the courage. And then it always seemed to burn bright and fast. Suddenly he was back to only the embers of his conviction.
She straightened up again, unbuttoning her blouse and revealing the white lace of her bra. She gave him a coy smile and he took his cue to do the same. He was relieved when she reached behind her back to free her breasts. He couldn’t have faced the embarrassment of such a fumble.
She laid her hand softly on the back of his head and brought his lips to her chest. He tried to concentrate on the sound of her moans as he sucked on her nipple. She was beginning to grind against him, and he felt an encouraging stir; maybe he would be able to perform after all.
Spurred on by that heartening sign, he slid his hand down her back, reaching for her arse, pulling her closer to him andthen pushing her back down into the sofa. He was on top now. He hoped that this play of dominance might excite him further. She brought his mouth back to hers and then trailed her fingertips down his back, around his sides and towards the waistband of his jeans. She unbuttoned his fly, and Noah tried to stem a feeling of rising panic. What if he wasn’t hard?
He was so caught up in his own head that he didn’t immediately notice that Opal’s kisses had grown lighter, more hesitant. He opened his eyes and froze. Tears were running down her cheeks.
‘Opal? What’s wrong?’
She sniffed but didn’t open her eyes as she spoke. ‘I’m not sure I can …’
Noah felt a flood of relief. He pulled himself off her and quickly did his trousers back up. Perching on the edge of the sofa, he gently stroked the tears from her face.
‘It’s OK, Opal, we don’t have to.’
Her eyes flew open, and Noah saw gratitude in them. It made him feel guilty. He was not the knight in shining armour that she thought him to be, but rather the coward hiding behind a shield of chivalry.
‘I thought … I felt that I wanted this, wanted you, so badly, but maybe I’m not ready.’ Opal sat up then, sheepishly pulling her blouse around her shoulders. ‘I am still married after all.’
Noah nodded. He hoped that he looked understanding, although he found it hard to comprehend that Opal might feel guilty about ‘cheating’ on a man who so flagrantly did so in front of her and all the guests at her party. Noah had begun to suspect that Martin was having an affair at that dinner where he had stormed off. Ruby’s dig about his wanderingshad hit a nerve. But then at the party he hadn’t even tried to hide his affection for the silver-dress-clad teenager that he hung on to all evening.
‘I’d kind of assumed that you two had … an arrangement,’ Noah said honestly.
Opal laughed. ‘That would require my husband and I having some sort of transparent conversation, which is something we’ve never been any good at.’
Noah pulled Opal into a hug, instinctually. It was only after she laid her head on his chest that he began to fear again that he was giving her the wrong impression. He needn’t have worried. Opal sighed heavily and they sat for a moment before she whispered, ‘I think we should probably go to bed now.’
PART 4
Chapter 39
Ruby woke up like she was slowly drifting to the surface of the water. She had a sense she was coming from the depths but the emergence didn’t feel forced or scary. Her eyes flickered open, and she realised that she was not in her own bed. For a split second she was afraid to turn and find a blonde head of hair on the pillow next to her, but on closer inspection of the room around her, she saw that it was not Johan’s.
The body beside her stirred, and she caught a flash of brilliant auburn out of the corner of her eye. In the few minutes that it took Heather to rouse, Ruby debated whether she should try and sneak out of the room. Her memory of the night before was both vivid and muddled, a film in vibrant technicolour that she’d watched in the wrong order. It started with a surprisingly convivial dinner. She could remember how hopeful she had felt as Heather took the seat next to her, after almost a week of no contact.
But then it all got fuzzier. There was a palm reading and dancing. One thing she did recall was the look of Opal’s face as she thought about her daughter, that and the slightly strange aftertaste of the champagne they’d all drunk.
In that cosy sitting room Ruby had watched Heather thawout further at the sound of laughter. They had held hands, and Heather had led her to her bed. There’s no way the music could have followed them, and yet Ruby was convinced there’d been a majestic soundtrack accompanying them on forays into each other’s minds.
They’d taken off their dresses, and Heather had offered Ruby a T-shirt, turning away, as Ruby unclasped her bra. In bed they lay nose to nose, palms clasped together under their cheeks. A silent worship of each other’s candour.
Ruby had told her about Cindy, and Heather had told her it was OK, that she could be forgiven – for her feelings and what they meant, but also for Cindy’s. Heather had shared her own coming-out story, and Ruby couldn’t help but laugh at the tale of an eight-year-old Heather announcing to her whole family she was ‘tired of being asked if she had a boyfriend at school, and that she would rather have a girlfriend anyway’.
‘They chalked it up to a rebellious phase, which of course, I’m still in,’ Heather recounted over the sound of Ruby’s giggles.
Ruby had leant in and planted a peck on each of Heather’s eyelids as they flirted with sleep. In a slow and dozy response, Heather had pulled Ruby’s mouth down to hers. And Ruby’s heart had done that thing again, swelling as though it might burst out of her ribcage, except instead it seemed to expand to accommodate it. When Heather pulled away, Ruby felt serenely calm as she drifted off.
‘Morning.’ Heather’s voice was raspy, and a little tentative.
