Chapter Eighteen
Zoe
A huge crash of thunder jerks me awake.
I blink, confused for a moment as to where I am. When I stir, I discover I’m pressed up close to someone, wrapped up in their arms. For a second I think it’s Charles, but he wasn’t a cuddler in bed. Thunder crashes again, and this time my memory comes flooding back. The boat. The storm. Joel.
“Shhh,” he says, stroking my back. “It’s okay.”
I move back a little and look up at him. The light from the embers of the fire can just reach us here in the bunk, and it paints the planes of his face with a deep orange.
“I thought the storm was going away,” I whisper.
“It’s circling. It’s been building again for the past fifteen minutes or so.”
The wind has increased again, too, and the hut groans and creaks. I bury my face in his neck. “I wish it would stop. I feel as if we’re being hunted.”
“I know what you mean. But these places are built to survive the worst conditions. We’re safe here.”
I’m sure that’s just a platitude, but I appreciate his attempt to comfort me.
My arm is around his waist, and I’m pressed up against him. I move my hand around his ribs, across the warm skin of his back, and slide it up the length of his spine.
He sighs, but doesn’t object, so I splay my fingers in the middle of his back, then brush them across from one shoulder to the other. I can feel him breathing, his chest rising and falling against mine, his breath brushing my cheek. I have one arm curled between us, and when I lift it a little, I can feel his heart beating against it, comforting in its slow rhythm.
He’s stroking my back, too, and I shiver as he trails his fingers from the nape of my neck all the way down to the base of my spine. When he gets there, he waits for a moment, then lifts the hem of the hoodie. Next I feel his hand on my back again, beneath the hoodie, but on top of the T-shirt as he strokes up.
We lie there like that for a long time, just touching each other, warm and cozy beneath the thermal blanket. I explore his body slowly, making my way from his back around his ribs, up to his collarbone, over his shoulders, and down his arms. He stays on top of my tee, and he doesn’t come further forward than my ribs, but he does the same, running his fingers up my arms, over my shoulders, beneath my neck, up my jaw, and around my ear.
There’s something heavenly about this, about being so close, and knowing, just knowing, where this is going, but fighting it a little, making ourselves wait, drawing the moment out. Eventually, though, I can’t wait any longer. My mouth is already only inches from his throat, and so when I shift a little closer on the mattress, I can easily press my lips to his skin, just below his Adam’s apple. He murmurs his approval, and so I do it again, touching my tongue to the hollow of his throat before kissing up to his mouth.
When I reach his lips, I wait there for a moment, enjoying the anticipation. He doesn’t move either, and we continue to stroke each other’s backs, our breaths mingling, which makes me think once again of us sharing his air tank, that slow, oddly sensual ascent through the water, and the moment where we paused so close to the surface, looking into each other’s eyes while he caressed my hair.
As if he’s thinking about it too, he slides his hand into my hair, which is nearly dry now, and runs it through his fingers. For a moment I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t move, and eventually he says, “We can’t, Zo.”
I lift my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“We can’t have sex.”
Disappointment flows through me. “Why not?”
“I don’t have any condoms.”
We study each other for a long while.
“I’m sorry,” he says eventually, caressing my face.
I drop my gaze to his mouth. The longing inside me is almost as great as the physical ache that’s grown while we’ve been kissing. I want him so badly.
But enough to be honest with him?
I wasn’t going to tell him. But here, in the seclusion of the cabin, it’s as if we’re the only two people in the world, and having secrets just feels foolish.
I take a deep breath. “I can’t get pregnant.”
There’s a long silence, punctuated only by the rattling of the windows in their frames from the wind.
Eventually, I lift my gaze to his. I can’t read his expression.
“You’re on the pill or something?” he asks.
I should just say yes. It would be so much easier. He’d believe me, and then I wouldn’t have to open up to him at all. And I don’t want to spoil the sexy mood by getting all heavy and serious.
But lying there, in Joel’s arms, after he’s saved me multiple times, I can’t bring myself to lie to him. I don’t want to start our relationship like that.
“No,” I say softly. “I can’t have children.”
He stares at me. Then he moves back a little, so he can look at my face. “How do you know?”
Thunder booms, and I jerk in his arms. He rubs my back, and that sweet, innocent gesture is enough to convince me. It’s now or never, Zoe.
I clear my throat. “When I was a teenager, I got pregnant. The baby came early, and during the birth I had a uterine rupture and massive internal bleeding. They couldn’t stop it, and so in the end I… I had to have an emergency hysterectomy.”
His eyebrows rise, and his jaw drops. “Zoe…”
I wait quietly, letting him process the information. I can see his brain working behind his eyes as he thinks through all the implications.
I take his hand and lower it beneath the T-shirt to my tummy, around the bikini line. I brush his fingers over the scar that remains there. It’s almost invisible to look at, but the skin feels slightly different.
“Who was the father?” he asks.
I think of the guy I met at the party who was just a kid really, and sigh. “Nobody. It was a one-night stand, and I never saw him again.”
His brow furrows. “What happened to the baby?” he asks eventually.
I press my fingers to my lips as tears well in my eyes.
He cups my face. “Ah, Jesus. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ve moved on.”
But pain and longing exist deep inside me, like a piece of grit buried in an oyster that’s never quite morphed into the beautiful pearl it was supposed to be.
“This is what you told Charles?” he confirms. “And he didn’t react well?”
I shake my head. “He wants a family of his own, and he wasn’t interested in adopting. And he’s religious, too, and quite prim, I discovered. He wasn’t quite the ‘wait until you’re married’ sort, but he wasn’t far from it, and the thought that I was the sort of person who’d have a one-night stand really shocked him. It changed how he looked at me.”
I gaze up at Joel, looking for some sign of the same disgust and accusation in his eyes that I saw in Charles’s, but the only thing I find is pity and affection. He wraps his arms around me, and, feeling such strong relief that it brings tears to my eyes, I cuddle up to him, nuzzling his neck.
“Does Elora know?” he asks.
“No.”
“I’m so sorry.” He strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head. “Honey, have you told me everything?”
I swallow hard. I haven’t, and I know he can sense that. But I can’t bring myself to admit the rest, not yet.
Instead, I say, “Of course. Isn’t that enough?”
He doesn’t reply.
I look up, entranced by the way the firelight plays across his features. He studies my mouth, then lowers his head and kisses me, his lips moving gently across mine.
I let him kiss me for a while, but my yearning is consuming me. I’m hot in the hoodie, and there are far too many layers between us. I push on his chest, and he moves back a little, letting me lift up onto an elbow. I tug the hoodie up, but there’s not a lot of room in the bunk, and I struggle to get the garment off. In the end, he helps me, peeling it up my body, and when it’s over my head, he tosses it over me onto the floor.
I’m just wearing the T-shirt, and I lift that up too, letting it drop behind me. I tug at his shorts, and he pushes them down and kicks them off.
Now we’re both naked, and we pull the thermal blanket over us, then move closer together, our legs tangled, arms wrapped around one another. I press against him from thigh to chest, enjoying the feel of his hard body against mine. I can feel his erection against my tummy, and my heart thunders in response at the thought of letting him penetrate me and slide inside me. But one step at a time, Zoe.
“You’re sure about this?” he says huskily. “I’ve never had sex without a condom, so I’m all good.”
“Me too.”
There’s no reason for this not to happen now. I want to share myself with him in this intimate way, and he obviously feels the same.
While we continue to kiss, he starts stroking his hand over me, from my shoulders down to my thighs, then back up my sides and around to cup my breasts. Mmm… his hands are warm, and he squeezes my breasts gently but firmly before teasing the nipples with his thumbs. I concentrate on kissing him, nibbling his bottom lip with my teeth, then sliding my tongue against his, while I move my hands over his skin. His muscles are well-defined, illustrating the hours he spends diving, and I explore them with my fingers, following the trapezius muscles from his neck, over his shoulder blades, and tracing down to the broader muscles of his back. He has a narrow waist, and the firm lines of his abs and obliques are tight under my touch.
I trail my fingers over his hips and down to his butt, and squeeze his firm glutes.
He lifts his head and gives me an amused look. “Are you enjoying yourself there?”
“Mmm.” I hook a leg over his and pull his hips toward me, rocking my pelvis. I know I’m going to be swollen and wet, and he exhales at the sensation of the root of his erection sliding through my folds.
Before I can prepare myself, he clamps an arm around my waist and lifts up, shifting me onto my back so he’s on top of me. He kisses me, hard, sending my heart hammering, then kisses down my neck to my breasts, where he fastens his mouth on one of my nipples. I gasp, heat blazing through me as if the door to the grate has swung open and exposed me to the full force of the fire.
I sink one hand into his hair and arch my back, and he sucks, gently at first and then harder, making me groan, before swapping to the other nipple. He does this for a while, until I’m writhing beneath him, aching and throbbing and desperate to have him inside me.
“Joel,” I beg, “please…”
He kisses up my neck to my mouth again and plunges his tongue inside, kissing me until I’m breathless, until I’m drowning in desire.
With his knees, he nudges my legs apart, and I draw them up so he can nestle between them and lower down on top of me. He lifts his head to look in my eyes, guides the tip of his erection down until it nestles at my entrance, and then he makes himself comfortable on top of me. Looking into my eyes, he pushes forward, and slowly, very slowly, he slides inside me.
I groan and close my eyes. He fills me, until I can feel him all the way up, stretching me, hot and hard, right to the top.
“Open your eyes,” he says gruffly, and I let them drift open and look up into his blue eyes. The pupils are dilated so they look almost black. Once again, our breaths become one as his lips touch mine, and I’m not sure what was more intimate—staring into his eyes under the water while we breathed from the same tank, or this moment, where he’s actually inside me, where our bodies are becoming one.
He starts to move, and I moan at the sensation of him sliding through my moist, swollen flesh. “Aaahhh…” I sigh, “that feels so good…”
“Baby,” he murmurs, “I’ve waited so long to do this…”
“Mmm, Joel…”
“You’re so beautiful…” He kisses me, moving agonizingly slowly, as if he’s reacting against the fury and speed of the storm around us. The rain hammers on the windows, the wind rips at the tin roof, the wooden walls creak and crack, but here in the cabin, in this bunk, beneath the blanket, our world is safe and secure.
Joel will always protect me. I know that instinctively. He will always put me first. It’s an odd feeling—completely new for me. The most important person in Charles’s world was Charles, and that was never going to change. Because I’m the oldest of all my siblings, my parents’ love and attention was always focused on those younger than me. It’s just one of those things. I’ve never given it much thought before. But lying here, with Joel moving on top of me, while he touches my face, strokes my hair, and kisses me, his eyes full of a fierce desire, it’s a revelation to think that for once, I’m important in someone else’s world.
Half of me wants him to speed up, so I can be swept up and carried away on the wave of pleasure I know is waiting for me. But the other half is enjoying drawing out the moment, of letting him slowly tease me toward the edge. His tongue plays with mine, his kisses hot and hungry, as if he can’t get enough of me, and he rests his weight on one elbow while he strokes me with his other hand, caressing my breasts, then stroking all the way down my ribs, my hip, and my thigh to my knee. He pushes it up, and I lift my legs and wrap them around him. It lets him change the angle, and we both groan as he sinks in deeper.
“Zoe,” he murmurs, kissing my neck and around to my ear. He nips the lobe, touches his tongue there, then kisses back along my jaw to my mouth. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers, placing butterfly kisses over my lips as he continues to move.
Warmth spreads through me, and my throat tightens. “I think I’m in love with you, too.”
His lips curve up, and his eyes light with pleasure. “I’m obsessed with you,” he says, his voice husky.
“I don’t know why.”
“Because you’re beautiful.” He kisses me. “And funny.” Another kiss. “And sexy.”
My eyes prick with sudden tears. “Joel…”
He shifts up an inch, so that when he thrusts he’s grinding right against my clit, and I gasp. He still moves relatively slowly, but his thrusts are more purposeful, and my body stirs beneath his tender administrations, heat building deep inside me.
“Do you want me to come for you?” I whisper.
He lifts his head to look at me. “Ah, baby, yeah…”
My eyes flutter closed. “Don’t stop…”
He moves rhythmically, purposefully. “I won’t.”
I catch my bottom lip between my teeth and suck. Mmm… that feels so good… I can feel my orgasm building deep inside, all the tiny muscles beginning to tighten… my breaths turn to ragged gasps as it begins… everything contracts… oh my God that’s exquisite as I clench around him… the pulses are intense… I cry out with each one, and he covers my mouth with his, as if he wants to capture my pleasure and make it his own.
I open my eyes, looking up at him as he begins to move faster, his body taking over his desire to make it last. He hooks an arm beneath my knee and pushes it up, and I widen my thighs, giving him better access so he can thrust to his heart’s content. He slams into me, his brow furrowing with pleasure, and I press my nails into his shoulders and score lightly down his back, making him groan and shudder as he finally spills inside me.
“Ah, baby,” I murmur, “yeah, that feels so good…”
“Fuck,” he mumbles, stiffening, his hands tightening to fists, and he crushes his lips to mine, and he’s kissing me so hard it almost hurts, and he’s leaning on my hair, and he’s incredibly heavy on top of me, but I don’t care because it feels magnificent, and this moment—lying here in this bunk with the storm raging around us, after all the danger we’ve been through—is the absolute best I’ve felt in, well, maybe ever.
He lowers his head to rest his forehead against mine, and we stay there like that for a while, as our pulses gradually slow.
Eventually, maybe conscious that he’s collapsed on top of me, he shifts, turning me so we’re almost lying on our sides. But he stays inside me, which feels incredibly intimate and loving.
“You okay, baby?” he asks, stroking my hair.
I nod and lift my lips to his, and we lie there for a while, exchanging long, lingering kisses.
“That was so good,” he murmurs when we eventually move back.
“Yeah.”
He strokes down my back to my hip, then says, “Sorry,” as he finally withdraws.
Warmth spreads over my thighs, and I sigh. “We’ll have to wipe down the mattress before we leave tomorrow.”
He smiles, but his expression is sad as he pulls me into his arms. “I’m so sorry about what happened to you.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry I talked about having children.”
“And I’m sorry to have to tell you what happened. I wish it could be otherwise.”
He runs a finger down my nose. “I told you that I just want to be with you.”
“I thought you were just saying that,” I whisper. “That you assumed you’d be able to change my mind eventually.”
“No. You don’t have to excavate my words to find out what lies beneath them, Zo. I tend to say what I mean.”
My brow furrows. “But you deserve to be with someone who can have a family.”
He runs a strand of my hair through his fingers. “There are other options. Have you thought about adoption or surrogacy?”
My lips part, but no words come out for a moment. Eventually, I swallow hard, then say, “I don’t think I could.”
He tucks the strand behind my ear. “That’s okay.”
“It’s really hard. I know you’re going to say it doesn’t matter whether you have children or not, but I can’t believe that if we were still together five or ten years down the line, it wouldn’t become a problem. Unless I meet a guy who says unprompted that he doesn’t want a family, it’s always going to be an issue.”
He sighs. “Maybe you’re overthinking it. Perhaps we should start at the beginning, and just concentrate on the two of us. We can worry about everything else later.”
I give him a little smile, but he doesn’t understand. Of course he’s right in many ways; we haven’t even gone on a proper date yet. We really shouldn’t be talking about marriage and forever and children. I’ve known him a long time and I think we’re kind of compatible, but there’s no way of knowing how we’ll feel about each other a week, a month, or a year down the line.
But relationships are hard. Love is hard. I know Joel has the potential to break my heart, that’s why I was reluctant to sleep with him. It doesn’t make sense to start something that in all likeliness is going to lead to heartbreak and misery.
I close my eyes. Way to go, Zoe. Talk about glass half empty.
The mattress shifts as Joel moves, and then I feel his lips press against my brow. He kisses my forehead, my nose, my cheeks, and down to my mouth, where he gives me a long, lingering kiss.
“We should get some sleep,” he says. “The storm’s abating a little.”
I hadn’t noticed; the rain is still lashing against the windows, and the cabin is creaking and groaning. But maybe the roof is rattling a bit less, and the rolls of thunder are slightly further apart.
We settle down, wrapped around each other, and soon his breathing is deep and even.
My emotions continue to rage, though, tearing through me, causing havoc and leaving my sanity in tatters. I shouldn’t have slept with him. I should have kept my distance, because that’s the only way to make sure my heart remains intact.
Too late, Zoe. Too late.