Chapter Thirteen
Joel
My heart is racing, and it’s no surprise that I have an erection. Zoe has obviously noticed, because she’s rocking her hips slowly, arousing herself on it. I have no problem with that. Arouse away, girl.
Man, she kisses like a goddess. Why am I surprised? I knew she would. She’s going to be great in bed, too. She’s far too beautiful, too luscious, too sensual and sexy to be anything but.
It’s been a long time since I made out with a girl like this, lazy and unhurried, taking my time to get to know how she likes to kiss. I love that she’s not just lying there. I mean, I have no objections to being the one doing the kissing, but there’s always something nice about a girl who’s enthusiastic and keen to join in. And Zoe is certainly like that. She slides her tongue against mine, takes my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs lightly, and moans a little when I tighten my arms around her, pulling her against me while I deepen the kiss. Her fingers find their way beneath the hem of my tee and creep up my back, drawing patterns lightly over my skin. Aaahhh… that’s sexy… Very gently, she draws her nails over my ribs, her lips curving up beneath mine as I give an answering shudder.
“Mmm…” I murmur, unable to stop my hips moving in time with hers. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?” she whispers.
My heart misses a beat, then does a little tap dance. I’ve thought about this for so long. I desperately want to say yes.
But she’s had a terrible shock today. She’s been in tears, and she’s feeling vulnerable and emotional. There is a possibility that she might wake up tomorrow and regret going to bed with me. I hope she wouldn’t, but that would make me very sad.
“Not today,” I tell her.
She moves her head back, her eyes widening with surprise, and looks at me. “Seriously? I thought that was what you wanted?”
“I do. When you’re feeling better.”
“I feel fine.”
“You’d say that even if you weren’t. You’ve had a shock, and your blood pressure was up.”
“Fractionally. I’m fine, Joel.”
“Even so. No sex today.”
She blows out a breath and glares at me. “We’ve just made out for, like, twenty minutes. You’ve got me all riled up. What’s the girl equivalent of blue balls? Blue vulva?”
That makes me laugh. “I didn’t say we couldn’t do anything. I think a relief of tension would be very good for you.”
Her eyes meet mine, curious, a little shy. “What do you mean?”
I pull her leg across my hips, lift her arms around my neck, and shift so our bodies are now completely flush, and she’s pressed up against the back of the sofa. My erection is nestling right where it needs to be, against her soft mound. As I rock my hips, she inhales, and her eyes flare.
“Here?” she asks.
“Right here.” I kiss her again, stroking her over the top of her yoga pants and tee. My hand travels over her outer thigh, the curve of her hip, into the dip of her waist, and up her back. If I were an artist, I’d have to sketch her using circles and ovals; she has no angles, no sharp edges.
She opens her mouth, allowing me to delve my tongue inside, and continues the movement of her hips, driving my erection through her soft flesh. Argh, this is going to backfire on me big time. There’s something extremely hot about doing this fully clothed, and she’s so uninhibited, giving herself over to me as we move together.
I stroke up from her waist, pausing on her ribs, waiting for permission, and receive it when she lowers a hand and moves mine up to her breast. She’s not wearing a bra, and I groan, plunging my tongue into her mouth as I squeeze her breast gently, then run my thumb over her nipple. It tightens in my fingers to a tight nub, and as I tease it, she sighs against my lips, her nails digging into my back.
We kiss like that for ages, stroking and touching, letting our bodies awaken and stir beneath the rays of the warm summer sun. I want it to last forever, but eventually her hips begin to move faster, her back arching as I play with her nipple, and when I pluck it lightly, then more firmly, she gives a long, sexy moan and whispers, “Joel…”
“Come for me,” I say, my voice hoarse with desire. I slide my hand down again to her butt and squeeze the muscle there, pulling her as close as I can.
“Oh my God,” she says, her brow furrowing, and her breaths come in deep, ragged gasps, and her teeth tug at her bottom lip, and then her lips part and she screws up her eyes as her orgasm sweeps over her. “Ahhh… Joel!” Her hips jerk against mine multiple times, and I hold her there, feeling the muscles in her tummy and further down contracting, and seeing her pleasure mirrored on her face and in her sighs.
I kiss her as she floats back down to earth, and she exhales and relaxes back against the sofa, then opens her eyes to give me a dreamy look and a small smile. “Mmm,” she says. “That was nice.”
“Feel better now?”
“Mmm.” She moistens her lips. Her gaze drops to my mouth, then returns to my eyes. “Mmm.” She says again. Then she kisses me.
I sigh and kiss her back, enjoying the movement of her lips across mine, the probing of her tongue, and the way she glides her fingers over my back beneath the tee. She lifts my hand to her breast again and continues to rock her hips against mine. Amused, I play along, wondering if she wants another orgasm. If so, I’m more than happy to oblige.
We kiss for a while, and she continues to rock against me, stroking from the root of my erection to the tip. Once there, she circles her hips, so the tip presses into her softness, making me groan.
“Getting turned on, Joel?” she murmurs, doing it again.
“Temptress,” I grumble, squeezing her breast and tugging on her nipple.
“Mmm.” She moves her hips from side to side, then rocks again. Then she stops, moves back a little, and looks down. I follow her gaze and discover that her light-gray yoga pants bear a small, dark, wet patch.
“Sorry,” I say, “these shorts are very thin.”
“I think it was me actually.” She means where her moisture has soaked through. Fuck me, that’s hot.
I check my shorts and discover a larger wet patch on the material. “It was me as well.”
“You’re not wearing any underwear?”
“They’re swim shorts. And we’ve been making out for thirty minutes, and you turn me on, so…”
Her eyes have suddenly grown lava hot. “Mmm.” She moves closer to me again, wraps herself around me, and brushes her lips against mine. “I think we need to do something about that.”
“I told you,” I scold, “no sex,” although I don’t have the willpower to stop her kissing me.
“Fair enough,” she murmurs. “But we can still do something about it.” She slides a hand down my chest between us and closes it around my erection through my shorts. Slowly, she begins to massage it with a firm but gentle touch.
“Uh… whoa.” I try to move her arm, but she’s clamped to me, and there’s no room. “Zoe…”
“Just relax.” She kisses me, delving her tongue into my mouth, and nips at my bottom lip.
I frown and hold her by the hips, although I can’t move her off me because she’s squashed against the back of the sofa. If I move back, I’ll fall off. “Will you stop? I’m not going to come in my shorts like a sixteen-year-old.”
Her eyes light up. Then she gives a low, sexy laugh and licks my bottom lip. “Could you really do that? I want you to do that.”
“Argh, Zoe…”
She lifts up a little, moving so she’s on top of me, forcing me to shift onto my back. There’s not much room, and our clothes are rucked up and tangled, and her hair is beneath my elbow, and I’m getting hot and bothered. But she doesn’t seem to care. She moves her hips until my erection is nestled once more between her legs, then begins to thrust properly, rocking her hips to force me to slide through her soft flesh. I’m seriously turned on and getting more so by the second, and it’s not helped by the fact that she’s kissing my lips and my face and my neck, and occasionally whispering in my ear.
“Mmm… Joel,” she says, her hot breath warming my skin, “this is so fucking hot…” and, “God, I want you inside me… Imagine what I’m going to feel like, all warm and wet and tight around you…” and, “I can’t wait until we’re naked… I want you to kiss me all over… I want to feel your mouth on my breasts and between my legs… Do you want to know what I taste like, Joel?”
I sigh, because I know it’s pointless to resist; like my ship, she’s relentless, and I have no willpower at all where she’s concerned. I cup her breasts and tease her nipples for a while, then move my hands down to her bottom and squeeze the muscles there, pulling her closer as she continues to rock against me, picking up speed…
“Ahhh…” She closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip, and I know this is turning her on as much as me, which arouses me more than anything else she could have said or done.
I slide a hand into her hair and pull her head down to crush her lips to mine, and she gives a deep moan, which only serves to heighten my arousal. There’s absolutely no way I won’t come like this; she’s too beautiful, too sexy, too fucking hot for me to hold back.
“You want me to come?” I ask in between kisses.
“Oh my God, yes…”
I close my eyes, concentrating on the tensing of my muscles deep inside me…
“Oh yeah… come on, baby…” She pushes up a little, takes my hands in hers, and pins them above my head. I could resist, but I don’t want to, and I’m happy for her to hold me down and continue to thrust while she kisses me, happy to give myself over to her and let her claim her prize. I stiffen for a second, then groan as my climax hits, my hands flexing in hers as she rides me through it.
“Oh, oh, oh!” She comes a second time, trembling, hips jerking, and then collapses onto my chest, and we both lie there like that, in a sweaty, sticky mess, panting beneath the rays of the summer sun that are turning the room the color of honey.
“Mmm,” she says eventually, not stirring.
I sigh.
She lifts her head and looks at me. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is mussed, and she looks incredibly sexy.
“Am I squashing you?” she asks.
“Yes. Don’t move.”
Her lips curve up.
We study each other for a while. I remove a strand of her hair that has stuck to her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. Her gaze travels over my face, soft as a feather.
“You frown a lot,” she says, lifting a hand to smooth it over my forehead.
“Do I?”
“You look permanently puzzled.”
“I am permanently puzzled.”
“By what?”
“People. They baffle me.”
“Not me, surely?”
“Especially you, Zoe.”
It’s her turn to frown, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she moves her hips a little, and I blow out a breath.
“Are you sticky?” she asks.
“Extremely.”
“Large load, was it?” I just give her a wry look, and she giggles. “That was extremely hot,” she says.
“Well, I’m going to have to shower and change, but yeah, it was.”
She studies my mouth. “You want to shower with me?”
“Jesus, absolutely not. There’s no way I’d be able to have you in my arms all wet and slippery and naked and not have sex with you.”
“Aw, spoilsport.”
I grab her by her upper arms and push her upright. “Go on, off you get. I need to clean myself up.”
She moves off me and stands, and I rise, grimacing. She looks down and tries not to laugh at the sight of my shorts all stuck to me. I glare at her. “It’s all your fault.”
She looks at the wet patch on her gray yoga pants that’s doubled in size. “I’m not in much better condition.”
“Go and get changed,” I scold. “Then we’ll decide what to have for dinner.”
She walks off, giving me one last look over her shoulder before she disappears into her room.
I huff a sigh, go into my room, through to the bathroom, and turn on the shower. When it’s hot, I take off my tee, then go into the cubicle with my shorts still on and let the hot water run over me. Eventually I take the shorts off and give them a good scrub, then clean myself before turning off the shower. When I’ve toweled myself dry and dressed in a clean tee and shorts, I wring the wet shorts out and take them through the house and outside to dry in the sun.
She still hasn’t emerged from her room. I’ve been thinking about an idea, so I take my phone outside with me, and spend a few minutes googling shops in Wellington. I call the one that looks the most promising and ask to speak to the person in charge. I send him a file, and when he sees it, he insists he can do exactly what I’m asking. I end the call feeling pleased with myself, and secretly excited at the thought of showing Zoe what I’ve ordered.
By this time, she’s showered and changed into a clean tee and a pair of cutdown jeans. We meet in the kitchen, giving each other twisted smiles.
“Hello,” she says, sitting at the breakfast bar, resting her elbows on the bar and her chin on her hands.
“Hello.” I get two water bottles out of the fridge, take the stool opposite her, undo a bottle, and pass it to her. She has a long drink of water, and I do the same.
“At least the weather’s cleared up,” she says.
I follow her gaze out of the window. The clouds have cleared, and the sky looks like a piece of lapis lazuli—a bright blue streaked with gold from the late sun.
“The sky is the same color as your eyes,” she says. I look back at her. “You have gold flecks in your irises,” she says, studying them with interest.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She blinks slowly. “What color are mine?”
I examine them. “A very bright green, with turquoise flecks. They look like the sun coming through strands of seaweed waving in the sea on a bright day.”
That makes her laugh. “Thank you.”
“I meant it as a compliment.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I know.”
“The world under the ocean is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Apart from you.”
She looks down, a little bashful. “That’s a nice thing to say.”
I reach out and cup her cheek. “Thank you for today.”
Her eyes meet mine again. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Oh yeah.”
She nibbles her bottom lip. “Joel…”
At that moment, my phone buzzes on the counter, announcing a call. “It’s Manu,” I say, picking it up. I swipe and answer it. “Hey.”
“Hey. It’s me,” Manu says. “I was just wondering how Zoe’s doing.”
I look at her sitting across from me, her dark hair swinging as she tips her head back to drink from her water bottle, revealing her pale throat. “I called a doctor in to check her over. She’s a bit tired, but she’ll be fine.”
“Oh, that’s great news. I kept thinking about her regulator free flowing. It’s never happened to me, but it must be pretty scary that far down.”
“Yeah, I’m not surprised it shook her up. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty rough actually,” he says. “I’ve got a really sore throat, and Hōri’s developing a cough. And what’s a real shame is that both Emma and Clive seem to be coming down with it. So we were thinking about postponing tomorrow’s dive. There’s no point in going out if everyone’s unwell.”
I feel a twinge of disappointment. I hate it when dives are canceled, and it’s made worse because Zoe’s not here for very long. Still, after today’s incident, it’s probably best to take a day to rest and recover.
“Of course,” I say. “We’ll see how everyone’s feeling on Friday.”
“All right. I’ll probably work in the Bay of Islands office tomorrow if you need me.”
“No worries. Catch you later.” I end the call.
“Aw,” Zoe says, “they’re not canceling because of me?”
“No, apparently Emma and Clive have come down with the same thing, and you can’t dive with a cold.”
“No, imagine if you sneeze.”
“Exactly. So we’ll take a day. It’s possible they might feel better by Friday.”
She sighs, leaning her chin on her hands again. “Can’t we go, the two of us?”
“We’d have nobody to stay on the boat. I wouldn’t be happy with that, especially after what happened today.”
“It’s such a shame. The weather’s apparently going to be gorgeous tomorrow.”
I think about it. “Well, the two of us could take the boat out and sail around the bay.”
Her face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah. We could order a picnic, have lunch on a beach somewhere. Take snorkels and go for a swim. Might be fun.”
“I’d love that.”
“All right. So… what do you want to do about food tonight? You want to go to the restaurant, or order something in?”
“Do you mind if we order?”
“Not at all.” The menu is lying on the worktop, and I open it and pass it to her. “Anything take your fancy?”
I watch her while she reads it. She’s still a bit pale, but she looks more relaxed now. I guess two orgasms will do that to you.
I still can’t quite believe what happened between the two of us. Facing your own mortality does tend to give you a feeling of carpe diem. Refusing to have sex with her was probably pointless. Just because there was no penis-in-vagina action doesn’t mean she won’t regret what happened on the sofa.
“Oh my God,” she says, “look at this seafood platter. It’s got prawns, oysters, mussels, smoked salmon rolls, crab meat, salmon mousse, coleslaw, and French fries. Oh, Joel.”
I chuckle. “You want to share one?”
“Can we?”
“Of course. I’ll phone an order through.”
The food arrives just before seven. We decide to eat outside again as it’s such a nice evening, and the waiter places the platter on the courtyard table. We light the candles, pour ourselves a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and sit and eat as the sun goes down and the southern stars begin to emerge.
“The sky’s the same color as Nemo and Dory from Finding Nemo ,” Zoe comments.
She’s right—the sapphire of the blue tang is fringed with the bright orange of the clownfish.
“Top ten Disney and Pixar movies,” I say to her. “Go.”
Unsurprisingly, Moana and The Little Mermaid make the top three of mine, while Zoe loves Frozen and Mary Poppins , and we spend a pleasant ten minutes arguing about whether Monsters, Inc . or Toy Story should take the top slot.
We continue talking about movies while we eat, and then meander from topic to topic, from music to books to travel. I’ve known her for a long time, and we’ve socialized a lot with Elora and Fraser and other friends, but we’ve never spent so long talking just the two of us. I’m surprised and pleased that the conversation flows, and we seem to have no trouble coming up with topics.
She’s never quiet in conversation, but although she chats away, tonight she seems just as happy to sit there and listen to me talk. That’s unusual for me. Usually it’s the other way around—I’m the one asking the questions to take the spotlight off myself. But she asks my opinion on politics and religion and the environment, listens and counters my arguments, and then pushes me to explain my views, until I finally relax and lose the usual inhibitions I feel at talking about myself.
The platter is amazing, too. We spend a couple of hours making our way through it, and by the end we’re both completely stuffed.
“I can’t go to bed yet,” I announce, rubbing my stomach. “I doubt I can even walk.”
“What a shame,” she replies. “You’ll just have to sit here talking to me instead.”
We smile at each other across the table. We’ve poured the last of the wine, and I’m feeling full and mellow. “Aren’t you bored with me yet?” I ask. “I’ve been opining for most of the evening.”
“It’s been lovely to listen to you for once.” She sips her wine. “You’re normally fairly quiet in company. You tell stories or jokes, but you don’t reveal much about yourself.”
“It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Why?”
“I… don’t know.”
She tips her head to the side. “Is it something to do with your father?”
I frown and look away, across the flagstones that are now covered in shadows, thinking about the moment I won the award, and how I’d heard my dad’s voice in my head berating me with pride. A memory jumps into my mind of being eight and sitting with the rest of my family at the dinner table. It had been sports day at school, and I’d won a swimming competition. I was absolutely thrilled, and I was talking about how the race had gone, describing how I’d passed each competitor, and how I’d beaten the last guy right at the end. Mum, Fraser, and Elora had been listening patiently, exchanging amused glances. Dad’s face had borne a slight frown, and I’d just been explaining how my schoolmates had all rushed over when the race finished when Dad interrupted with a quote from Proverbs, “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom, Joel.”
I remember Mum shooting him a harsh look, but he just stood and took his plate to the sink, and that was the end of that. I subsided into silence, humiliated and embarrassed. I don’t think I’ve mentioned an accomplishment in front of him since, apart from the award the other night, I only did that reluctantly.
I look back at the table and finish off the rest of my wine. “Shall we take all this inside?”
“Joel.”
I start stacking the plates. “What?”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrug and carry the pile inside. I put everything on the tray and leave it outside the door, then call room service and ask them to collect it. By this point, Zoe has blown out the candles, come in, and locked the door.
“Would you like a whiskey?” she asks.
“Yeah, okay.”
She pours us both a shot of Glenfiddich over ice and adds a splash of water, and we go through to the living room. We sit on the sofa, me at one end, her in the middle, and she turns a little to face me.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asks.
“Not really.”
She leans her head on the back, and her eyes are kind. “I meant what I said the other day. About being proud of you, and that any woman would be lucky to have you as a partner.”
“Thank you. Does that include you?”
She nibbles her bottom lip. “Did you mean what you said? That you don’t want to change me?”
“Why would I want to change you? You’re perfect.”
Her eyes glisten. “Kiss me,” she whispers.
So I lean forward and press my lips to hers, and we kiss slowly, warm and content in the golden evening light.