Chapter 22 #3
On the walk home, Roly took Ella’s hand.
She liked the feel of his strong, warm fingers wrapped around hers.
She didn’t know if he was doing it because she was a bit unsteady on her feet or just because he wanted to.
But the way his thumb stroked idly over hers seemed intentional, like an unspoken agreement.
She felt warm and woozy, and stumbled as they went in the door. Roly caught her.
‘I’m a bit tipsy.’
He grinned. ‘I can tell.’ He held her arm as they walked up the hall into the living room.
‘Thanks for my birthday dinner,’ she said, unwrapping her shawl and dropping it on the sofa.
‘You’re welcome. Hang on,’ he held up a finger. ‘I have a present for you.’ He strode out of the room, but instead of waiting, Ella followed him upstairs to his bedroom.
‘I thought dinner was my present,’ she said, standing in the doorway.
‘That was only part of it.’ He took a gift bag and a card from the nightstand and held them out to her. ‘I meant to bring it to the restaurant, but I forgot.’
‘Thanks.’ Ella took them from him, then walked past him to sit down on his bed. She opened the card and read:
To Ella, my beautiful brainiac friend and the best tenant I’ve ever had.
God, she must be drunk, she thought, as tears sprang to her eyes. Inside the bag a little velvet pouch contained a silver charm bracelet with a birthday card dangling charm.
‘It’s not very imaginative, I’m afraid,’ he said, sitting beside her. ‘But I didn’t have a lot of time,’ he added accusingly.
‘Oh, it’s gorgeous! I love it,’ Ella said as she put it on, turning her wrist this way and that to admire it.
She leaned over to give him a kiss. She was aiming for his cheek, but landed on his lips, and instead of giving him a quick peck, she didn’t pull away.
She just stayed where she was, his lips warm against hers as she breathed in the deliciously warm, woody scent of his aftershave.
He smelled amazing. After a moment he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back – slowly, softly.
She shuffled closer, pressing herself into him.
‘Ella?’ he pulled away, looking at her questioningly. He seemed as surprised by this development as she was.
‘Sorry.’ She snuggled into him, her eyes drooping closed. ‘I’m drunk.’ She nuzzled against his neck, loving the warmth of his skin and the sandpapery rasp of his stubble.
‘I’m not. So I have no excuse.’
She sighed and lay back on the bed, kicking her sandals off onto the floor. ‘Well, it’s still my birthday for another…’ she glanced at the clock ‘fifteen minutes. Spend the rest of my birthday with me.’ She shifted to one side of the bed and patted the empty space beside her.
To her surprise, he didn’t hesitate. ‘It’s your birthday,’ he said, smiling. ‘You call the shots.’ He kicked off his shoes, then lay down beside her.
‘This is like old times,’ he said as she turned to face him.
‘Old times?’
‘That night in my room at the Westbury, remember?’
‘Oh yeah. How could I forget? My illicit night with pop idol Roly Punch.’
‘That’s the one.’ He was smiling at her indulgently, and all she could think about was kissing him again.
‘I love my present. Thank you again.’
His eyes dropped to the bracelet at her wrist as she fingered it lightly.
‘You’re welcome.’
‘And the lovely dinner.’
‘My pleasure. So, what would you like to do for the rest of your birthday?’
‘This.’ She nudged closer and pressed her lips to his. He didn’t pull away, and he only hesitated a moment before he cupped the back of her neck and kissed her back.
His lips were soft and warm and chilli-flavoured, and he was an amazing kisser.
His body felt so good against hers as he pulled her closer – hard and strong and warm.
She moaned softly as he tugged at her lower lip, and she pulled him closer, burying her fingers in his hair.
His mouth opened against hers, and she shivered as his tongue slid inside.
They were both breathing heavily now, lost in the moment.
Roly groaned deep in his throat as he grabbed her leg and hitched it over his hip, pushing against her so that Ella could feel his erection.
But when she slid her hand down towards it, he stopped her and held himself away from her as he pressed soft, butterfly kisses to her eyes, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth.
‘Ella?’
She opened her eyes. His looked heavy and drugged, which was exactly how she felt – like a fat bee, drowsy from gorging on nectar.
‘Mmm?’
‘We should stop.’ His face was so close to hers on the pillow, she could still feel his breath on her mouth.
‘Oh. Okay. Should we, though?’
‘You’re a bit pissed.’ He stroked her face lightly with one finger.
‘Not really.’
‘And you need your sleep.’
‘I’m wide awake.’
‘And,’ he turned and looked at the clock, ‘it’s not your birthday any more.’ It was ten minutes after midnight.
‘Oh.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t you want to, though?’ She leaned in, seeking his mouth again.
‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea.’ He gave her a frustratingly chaste kiss on the forehead, like she was a sleepy child.
‘Don’t go, though,’ she said as her eyes drooped closed. Suddenly she did feel sleepy. ‘Let’s just stay here like this. We don’t have to get undressed or anything.’
‘It’s my bed.’ She could hear the smile in his voice. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
She sighed, nestling closer to him. ‘Me either.’