Coming Around Again (18 page)

Stella woke to the blissful sound of waves crashing on the shore.
Nothing more. She sat up and pulled her feet to her chest, surrounded by a
mosquito net more delicate than her wedding veil. Filtering her fingers through
it, she met with several black insect eyes and screeched louder than when she
gave birth.

In moments, she saw the shadow of Niels, scooping the multi-eyed beast
that clearly tried to kill her from her net. “Good morning,” he teased, opening
the wooden door of their room and throwing the attacking demon to the sand.

“It was coming for me. Like Norman Bates,” she defended. He parted the
nets with an index finger and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

“Breakfast?”

His hand braced beside her thigh, making her all too aware how
respectful he had been last night. After arriving in Cancun, they endured a
three-hour trip to the hotel. By the time the car rolled up to the hotel,
darkness blanketed the wood and thatched bungalows, decorated by pretty little
lights and candles. A receptionist showed them to their beautiful bungalow,
their feet sinking into still-warm sand on their way.

Stella took her time to run her palms over high thread count sheets,
soft as velvet beneath her palms; admire the mosaic tiled bathroom, painted in
delightful Aztec colours and trace her fingers over varnished wood sculptures
that decorated their room. If ever a place could make a woman fall in love all
over again, she absolutely stood inside it.

“Good choice?” he asked.

“Very. Smart choice,” she said, biting down on her lip. “So there’s one
bed.”

“Of course.”

Stubborn, stupid man.
“Where are you going to sleep?”

“If I do sleep, it’ll be right there,” he advised, nodded toward the
four poster bed, draped in netting. “I don’t particularly plan on sleeping,
though.”

“You’re not talking me back into a relationship with your dick.”

He shrugged, placing his suitcase on the stone floor to unlock it.
“Worked the first time.”

“Really? You think you talked me into a relationship, into cohabitation,
into marriage, because of sex?”

He paused, crouched near his case, a strange expression on his face.
“What else did I do?”

Well, fuck. Checkmate
. “Nothing you can repeat, with our history in mind. Do you want to get
some dinner?”

“Why not? Let’s wash up and we can go.”

And again
. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, feeling irritable from the two
flights and the long-arse day. “Why are you trying to make me want to hurt you?
If I do kill you, you know I can just blame it all on this country and I’d get
away with it?”

“Stella, this is an ecological hotel. I won’t touch your pumpkin, but we
really should save water.”

The need to be clean overrode any concerns of her dropping her bath puff
in the shower and finding Niels had lost his way inside her vagina. “I mean it.
I can just dump your body somewhere in Cancun and no one… No one would be the
wiser.”

He smiled slowly and removed his wash bag from his case. “If you believe
so.”

Doing the same, she followed him into the shower room, a luxurious wet
room and spacious shower that overlooked the oil-black sea, scattered with
silver by moonlight. Niels began stripping, pulling off his light cotton
trousers and boxers. Considering she’d been up close and personal with his
lower appendage only two short weeks ago, she felt strangely embarrassed seeing
it in the stark electronic lighting of their hotel bathroom. He tugged his thin
jumper over his head and raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to watch me
or are you getting undressed?”

With a weary sigh, she pulled off her clothing and grabbed one of the
complimentary shower caps from the side, all while not once looking him in the
eye, to brush past him and turn on the shower. For a brief moment, the water
spouted sharply cold and she squealed, jumping back right into Niels’ very warm
and very naked body.

“Back up there, Sparky,” she warned, reaching for the water and finding
it warm.

“Share,” he warned back, in the same tone he used with the twins, which
annoyed her further. Above her head, Niels rubbed shampoo into his hair,
whistling piercingly loud.

“If you don’t stop…”

“What are you going to do? You’re not touching anything that will give
you pleasure later…”

He read her mind. She’d been about to reach for his nether regions and
pull painfully hard. “Stop whistling.”

“Someone’s tired,” he assessed, rinsing the soap from his hair and
pulling her underneath the stream of water. “Turn around, let me do your back.”

Briskly, almost nurse-like, he scrubbed her back, digging into the pit
just above her bottom. “Here,” he handed her back her body puff and turned his
golden-hued back to her. “Just get my spine. Feel itchy with sweat.”

She did as he asked and then finished her wash briskly. Once dressed and
out of their room, it’d be better. Much better. No chance of her starting a
fight with him and finishing it post-orgasm. She scrubbed her teeth until they
felt raw and then slapped on after-sun cream, leaving the bathroom for Niels to
do whatever he wanted. The intimacy of watching him towel off his nads caused a
pulse of irritation behind her eyeball.

“Shall we just go to the restaurant?”

“Which one?”

He popped his head out of the sea front window and pointed to a
glass-fronted looking hut. “The hotel restaurant.”

Grabbing her hand, they trotted barefooted through the sand to the
restaurant. They were greeted warmly and given a window seat. It felt very
surreal, nearly five thousand miles away from their children, their homes,
seated in the warmth of Quintana Roo.

Her bra remained in the depths of her suitcase. In her rush to be
dressed, she sacrificed support and the subdued lighting of the restaurant
turned everything transparent.

Niels talked to her cleavage. “Please get a menu. Cover up.”

She took the nearest menu and held it in front of her breasts. “Better?”

“No, I still know what’s going on there. Let’s get mojitos.”

“Good idea.”

The drinks were quickly placed in front of them and still leaning around
the menu, Stella stirred the sugar into the mint. “What are you worried about?”
Niels asked, draining a good quarter of the drink.

“That I’ll forget everything and be weak around you, because you know my
body better than I do. That we won’t talk properly, and just bang each other
raw. We go back home and nothing, absolutely nothing, changes.”

He nodded. “That’s a lot to be worried about. Fine. No sex until you’re
ready. And we’ve been in Mexico a scant four hours. Let’s just sleep off an
insanely long journey, have something to eat and then tomorrow we can talk.
Properly.”

“Like you promised.”

“Exactly like I promised.”

“Like you’re with your therapist?”

“As if I am paying you for your time.” He smiled, lifting his drink to
her and taking another gulp. “Christ, I forgot how strong drinks are over here.
What do you want to eat, wife?” She tilted her head, raising a single eyebrow.
“Did I say something that wasn’t right?” he challenged.

“Yeah. You’re missing ‘ex’.”

“Not as affectionate. Come on. Order. Then we can enjoy a night of
quiet. No
Daaaaaad, I can’t find my homework.
Or
Mumaaaaaaaaa, I
forgot my PE kit!
Just the sound of the shore, and you breathing next to
me.”

“Seriously, what did they put in your drink?”

“Alcohol,” he admitted. “Don’t worry. I promised.”

And he’d kept it. They’d had a few more cocktails with their seafood
grill and wandered hand-in-hand back to their room. In the middle of the night,
Stella awoke, disorientated by the waves and by the dehydration from the
alcohol. The only thing to centre her was the security of Niels’ arm, wrapped
around her shoulders. As soon as she shifted, he pulled her closer, lifting his
other hand to rub her bicep. Normalcy. Comfort.
Niels
. And it coaxed her back to sleep. To face him again.

Mexico sucked…

“Come on. Nothing’s going to kill you. Get on a bikini and let’s have
breakfast.” He gave her enough time to wash the sleep from her body and slather
herself in plenty of sunscreen. Covering her simple white bikini with a sheer
black dress, Niels patted a towel-covered beach bed.

“Latte and fresh orange juice.”

Heaven in two ways
, she thought, sitting down and drinking. Perfect. Niels peeled off his
cotton shirt and bared his golden body to the sun. She loved when he tanned. It
made him look Greek; like an ancient Greek hero, ready to take on deities and
monsters.
I’m on holiday with my ex-husband, salivating over him
…

“It’s far too early to start punishing yourself mentally,” he warned
her, pushing sunglasses onto her face. “We can talk when the day goes past
noon. Six more nights, Stella. No hurry.”

Oh. He really had forgotten…

***

Two years before marriage

Stella tried to direct him, and verbalised exactly what she wanted him
to do. She’d learned in her sexual life that if she wanted anything, she needed
to ask. Or demand it. How else would she find any pleasure? No woman came to a
man with a body surety manual.
If you tweak this body part, this particular
woman will come screaming like the 6.15 to London Bridge.
She knew her body
and, to reach the orgasm which had kept her on edge the moment Niels picked her
up for their date, she’d have to tell him.

Niels pinned her under his half naked body, her knees bracing his wide
torso. “Stella.”

“What?” she asked, blinking innocently, all the while lifting her hips
within reach of his.

“Tell me how you think you’re helping,” he offered, catching her by the
wrists and holding them both above her head.

“I’m just…” She lost her train of thought the moment his tongue flicked
over her bare nipple, only for the damp skin to tighten under the coolness of
his breath. “Trying to help?”

“No, you’re directing.” Again, he stroked his tongue wetly across her
breast. “And if you direct, I don’t get to explore. Discover what really makes
you enjoy this…” he pressed an extremely encouraging bulge against her
silk-covered mound. “What makes you really wet. Beg for release. To be filled.
Thoroughly and sorely fucked…”

Shuddering, Stella tried to move her mouth to form words. Niels turned
his attention back to her breasts. He released one wrist to the power of a
single hand, the other trailing over her body to trace the swollen lips of her
sex. He kissed his way from her right to her left breast, and then, without
warning, sank his teeth into her nipple. Her mouth parted on a silent scream.

“Ahhh. You like a little pain,” he murmured, licking over his marks,
kissing them from her sensitive skin. “You’re shaking against my hand. Is this
better?” As he lowered his head again, once more biting into her breast, he
pressed two fingers inside her. Taut as a cello string, stretched between his
hands, she forgot what she wanted to do, only how much he needed to continue.
I’m
not like this,
she thought.
It’s barely our first date, I can’t have him
own me like this!

The way he toyed with her told her otherwise. With alternating movements
of his fingers, he tapped against the tight knot of nerves rarely found by the
exploring male in her bed. She trembled underneath him, half-pushing into his
hand and partly trying to avoid what he was about to make her do. Turning his
hand, he feathered his thumb over her clit and just as if jump cables had been attached
to her body, Stella jerked into a complete arch, her vocal cords seized by her
orgasm.

Instead of a crow of triumph, Niels simply leaned
up, releasing his hold on her and licked his glistening fingers. “I could definitely
get used to this…” he murmured appreciatively. Stella struggled to sit up,
breathing uneven. He sat back, feet on the carpet and unbuckled his belt. With
a sweet smile, he beckoned to her. “I want your mouth on me.”

Kneeling on the bed, she released a beautiful
monster from his trousers. Thick and decidedly pale against her hand, she
feathered her fingers over him and asked for a condom. For some reason, she
wanted him to know he had no idea what she was about to unleash on him. Her own
vengeance for his masterful command of her pleasure… She opened the packet as
soon as he gave it to her, and placed the tip in the ‘o’ shape of her mouth.
She slid her lips over half his length, before her mouth protested. With her
forefinger and thumb, she eased the latex down to stroke his sacs, almost
lovingly.

“Jesus,” he groaned.

“Can you feel this?” she asked, drawing the thick
head of his cock between her lips and sucking on him. His hips buckled beside
her and she rested her hand on his opposite thigh to balance herself on her
knees. As she let her throat adjust to his length, she felt the warmth of his
rough palm smoothing over her backside, edging her knickers out of the way to
stroke over plump pussy lips. Sensation trickled through her in odd places. Down
her arms, electrifying her sore nipples, and shaking her thighs.