Chapter 29
WE’RE USHERED STRAIGHT from the bus to dinner and then to our viewing party.
At both events I seat myself far from Adam.
If anyone notices the distance or the chasm of silence between us they don’t mention it.
Probably because they’re too busy rehashing the reenactment and trying to squash Mum and Aunt Carol’s talk of doing another one.
Pigs will actually fly before I play Clementine again.
Exhausted from the day, my feet drag through the glistening blades of grass. A cool mist dampens the air. Adam walks ahead of me, back straight, shoulders tight.
His steps slow as we near the cottage and we both reach for the door. We jerk our hands away. I go for the handle a second time and this time connect with Adam’s hand. It’s like I’m electrocuted and I rub the spot where my skin burns.
He pushes the door open. ‘Are we going to talk about what happened?’ he asks when we’re inside.
I kick my shoes off, leaving them in the middle of the room because I know it annoys him. ‘What do we need to talk about? You kissed me. We argued. You kissed me again.’
He closes his eyes, pressing fingers to his temple like I’ve brought on the world’s greatest headache. ‘You kissed me back, Sabrina.’
I sit down on the bed and pick at a thread on the blanket. I stare at the tight set of his mouth, my skin flushed at the memory of those lips pressed to mine. I could live a thousand lifetimes and that kiss would still be as vivid as it is in this moment. ‘I know,’ I whisper.
He looks into my eyes. ‘What does it mean?’
It means that I want to kiss you again and it terrifies me because I think I like having you around, but what happens when you’re no longer around?
What happens when we return to our lives and we’re not forced to spend every minute together?
Will you decide I’m not worth your time?
I don’t say any of that and go full Sabrina on him and blink at him like I’ve forgotten the question.
He sighs.
I sigh.
He sighs again.
A part of me wants to continue the sighing conversation. Instead, I stand up and move towards the bathroom. His fingers take my wrist, slowly drawing my arm behind me. ‘I didn’t just kiss you for fun, Sabrina. I mean, it was fun, but—’ His voice is low, the words tentative. ‘It meant something.’
The room tilts. Heart thumping, I keep my back to him, letting his words sink in.
I’m not sure who acts first. I turn. He pulls me to him.
Or it’s a perfectly timed single move that ends in our lips meeting in a desperate kiss.
My hands are in his hair, his grapple at my hips.
The need to breathe is gone. I can survive purely on Adam’s kisses for the rest of my life.
He wraps me in his arms, his teeth grazing my lower lip. ‘Sabrina,’ he says. His breath is a hot caress on my skin.
I cradle his face, holding him still between my palms. Deep lines crease his forehead in that same expression he had when we danced together and later when we sat in the attic bedroom.
It hits me. I’m the puzzle he’s trying to solve.
I rise up on my toes and kiss the line just above his brows, desperate to wipe it clear. ‘It meant something to me too,’ I say.
He exhales, a smile lighting him up. He doesn’t smile enough and that’s a damn shame because an Adam Whittaker smile is breathtaking.
He drops a kiss on my nose. My forehead.
My temple. And then he finds my lips again and the desperation is gone, replaced by an understanding that we have all the time in the world.
I slide my arms over his shoulders, hooking them around his neck as his tongue brushes against mine and sends shivers racing down my spine.
Standing on my toes again, I lean into him and rock my hips into his.
Adam pulls away. Before I can protest, his mouth trails along my jaw and finds my neck. His tongue meets my skin. I tip my head back, fingers digging into his shoulders as I arch into him.
‘Sabrina,’ he murmurs and then gasps when I roll against him. He presses his lips to the hollow of my neck and takes the skirt of my dress and begins to lift it. Then he pauses.
‘Don’t stop,’ I whisper and reach for the top button of his shirt, fumbling to free it.
‘Are you sure?’ he asks, his voice breathy.
The button pops open, and I move to the next one. ‘Please don’t argue with me right now. You won’t win,’ I say.
He kisses my neck, drawing circles with his tongue on my skin.
‘In this argument, I’m happy to concede,’ he says.
He releases his hold on my dress and finds my hips, walking me backwards to the bed.
He takes over the unbuttoning of his shirt and I push it off his shoulders and run my hands over his biceps and the smattering of hair on his chest. I hold a palm over his thumping heart.
He looks down at me. Waiting. Asking.
I answer him with a kiss and his thumb slides under the strap of my dress, pulling it slowly from my shoulder.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmurs, tracing a finger over the goosebumps prickling my skin.
He frees my other shoulder from its strap and guides it down my arm.
His lips find the curve of my cleavage and I want desperately to free myself of the dress that is between his mouth and my skin.
His hands skim down my waist, the dress following until it pools at my feet.
Shivering, either from nerves or excitement or both, I kick it away and peek up at him. His eyes, dark and laced with desire, find mine.
‘I have a confession to make,’ he says.
My heart lodges in my throat.
‘I love cakes.’ He kisses the corner of my mouth. ‘And muffins.’ He kisses it again. ‘In fact, you’d be hard-pressed to find a dessert I don’t like.’
Stunned, all I can do is gape at him.
He squeezes my waist. ‘It killed me every time I turned you down at the cafe. And it’s why I chose the furthest table from the counter.’ He drops a kiss to my nose. ‘I can be a bit of a stubborn arse.’
‘The stubbornest arse.’
He kisses my jaw, his hands roaming to my lower back. ‘I did eat those two cakes you baked me.’
‘My apology cakes.’
His lips find my ear. ‘Best apology cakes I’ve ever eaten.’
I grip his shoulders. The feel of him hard against me makes it impossible to think straight, impossible to speak.
‘I promise to eat everything you bake for me in the future,’ he says.
His fingers trail up my waist, blazing a trail of electricity, and then he unhooks my bra and tosses it away. He removes his jeans and I shimmy out of my underwear.
His mouth retreats from mine and his name slips out of me in a murmur. I’m desperate for him.
‘Adam,’ I say again when the heat of his body also disappears. Cracking an eye open, I find him moving to his bag. ‘What,’ I start to ask and then stop when he holds up a condom. ‘You came prepared?’
‘You’re shocked?’ His arm snakes around my waist, welcoming me back in his warmth.
‘Um, yes, no.’ My fingers trail over his chest, his hair tickling them as they draw lazy loops. ‘Did you bring them. Or buy them here?’
He picks me up and lowers me slowly onto the bed. ‘Adam?’ I ask when he doesn’t answer.
He raises an eyebrow as I shuffle back until I meet the pillows.
‘Tell me,’ I plead.
‘Does it matter?’ he says as he joins me on the bed, a palm coming to rest on my stomach, his lips moving along my jaw. His hand skims down, his fingertips grazing my tingling skin.
‘Yes,’ I manage to gasp as his mouth travels south and captures my nipple at the same time as his hand slips between my thighs. A gentle flick of the tongue, a stroke of his fingers, and my hips rise, needing more.
‘Adam. Fuck,’ I rasp as his teeth graze over the hardened peak and his fingers fill me. My need to know when he first thought of wanting me disappears as I feel how much he wants me now.
‘You feel better than I could’ve ever imagined,’ he breathes as the pressure in me mounts. His mouth closes over my nipple again, sucking, licking, making me almost convulse. He pulls back, his fingers sliding out of me. ‘Is this okay? What do you want?’
‘Right now, whatever you want to do to me.’
He throws a leg over me, straddling me as he rips open the condom wrapper and my heart thuds so loud I’m sure he can hear it. And then the weight of him is on top of me and we are skin to skin and it’s so sweet and so urgent, that I can’t remember a time I didn’t want him.
‘Sabrina,’ he groans into my mouth before pulling away. ‘I really planned to take this slowly, but fuck.’ His chest rumbles with a low laugh.
A thrill rushes through me. ‘So, you’ve thought about this. You brought condoms. You wanted this from the very beginning.’
His forehead drops onto mine and he rolls it from side to side. ‘Not the very beginning.’ He kisses me, his hand brushing the side of my breast.
‘When?’ I start and then throw my head back at the feel of him against me. He rocks into me and I lose all rational sense as he withdraws and pushes in again, deeper until he’s buried inside and we both release a strangled sound.
My nails dig into his back as his thrusts become more insistent and we move together, hands touching, gripping, his mouth consuming mine.
Heat races through me and he growls my name through a kiss.
Tilting my hips to take him deeper, I feel my body tighten.
I’m close, so close. I cling to him, murmur his name.
Every touch of his threatens to combust me.
‘Sabrina,’ he rasps, his movements becoming more urgent as he kisses me hungrily.
‘I want you,’ I pant. So badly. So desperately. Harder, faster. I want all of him. I tighten, fingers now clawing at him as he thrusts into me. His name tears through me as I fall apart beneath him, convulsing with the purest pleasure, and then he follows me, shuddering with a low moan.
He collapses into me, his lips finding the crook of my neck and I hold him there, our hearts pounding together.
Then he rolls onto his back, and takes me with him, tucking me into his side as our breaths slow into a gentle rhythm.
I rest my head against his chest and close my eyes, my hand splayed across his warm glistening skin. So calm, so perfect.
I battle against the pull of sleep. I don’t want to miss a moment of this evening. It’s only when his breathing deepens, and I know that he is drifting off, that I give in. I slip into dreams, making a mental list of all the things I want to bake for him.