Chapter 49
There’s a soft, thick carpet in Zach’s bedroom, the kind your toes sink into, and by now the only thing illuminating the room is a fat summer moon. We fall onto the gentle folds of his duvet, as he massages the hairline at the back of my neck. Everything feels opulent, luxurious and dreamy. When he kisses me, sensitive, hidden parts of me shimmer like the moon. I feel tipsy but not from the wine. It’s from his slightest touch, the dry heat of his skin, the hush of the room and the bittersweet melody of some new song drifting in from the door.
I lie on my back as he props himself up next to me and his fingers slide to the sides of my breasts. I watch the shadows of his softly lit face, every perfect dip and curve of his features. In my whole life, I don’t think I’ve ever kissed anyone so beautiful. I feel something hard against my hip as he reaches up to the top button of my blouse. As he pries it open, I become hyper conscious of my breath, the exaggerated rise and fall of my breasts. He draws his eyes over my face and smiles. Then he opens the next button.
I crane my neck to kiss him, to taste those sumptuous lips. He smells of that same delicious scent I caught on the first day I ever met him. Only now, when his skin is close to mine, I can close my eyes and inhale, for no other reason than to breathe him in.
He opens another button.
Now he holds my hand and gently pulls me up so we’re both sitting. With a slow, singular movement, he draws my blouse over my head. I’m wearing a new bra, semi-sheer, with just a touch of lace, the kind that made me feel sexy the moment I tried it on. I breathe in automatically, then get a sense that I needn’t have bothered. He seems to like the parts of me that squidge. And the look in his eyes suggests that, even if he didn’t, he’s too far gone to care.
He runs his fingertips slowly downwards from the top of one strap, until they trace the line where lace meets skin and skim the pink outline of my areola. He bends down and places his lips on my neck, before planting a trail of kisses across my d é colletage, one after the other, until I’m tingling from his touch.
Our mouths meet and go on another exploration. I cannot get enough of the tender warmth of those lips. The gentle, teasing bite of his teeth. The hot slide of his tongue. I want to taste every inch of him, starting here and ending . . . nowhere. I don’t want this to end.
He reaches around and unclasps my bra. The straps fall down first, followed by the rest. My breasts spill out, full and heavy. He looks as if it might just be the most decadent sight he’s ever laid eyes on. I reach up to his buttons now, with none of his reserve and patience.
Before we know it, we are both working on them, fumbling and giggling when they don’t undo fast enough. Eventually, he tears off his shirt and throws it on the floor. Moonlight reflects on the magnificent contours of his chest. We sink back together, hard muscle on soft breasts, and then—
‘Can you hear something?’ he whispers.
I freeze. My phone is ringing. It never rings. And I’d silenced it. I’d silenced everything. The only way anyone could get through would be if they were listed on my emergency contacts.
He nods towards the door.
‘Go on. You’d better get it.’
I scramble to my feet and dart out of the room, heading back into the open-plan kitchen, where I grab my mobile.
It’s Leo’s number. I answer.
‘Mrs Smedley?’ says a young, shaky voice. ‘This is Josh, Leo’s friend. I’m sorry but . . . he’s in trouble. And I’m not sure what to do.’