Unstitched (10 page)

‘All credit goes to the artist.’

‘You’ve stacked up a lot of hours under a needle there.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s an ancient tradition to paint one’s body. I’m glad it’s back in fashion, because I’m kinda hooked.’

I pressed my thighs together and smiled. ‘I’m glad, too.’

‘Not quite sure how the parents will react when I see them again, though.’

‘They haven’t seen them yet?’

He shook his head and frowned.

‘You’re a grown up,’ I said. ‘You can do what you want, right?’

The luminescence of his green eyes faded. ‘My exact words when I last spoke to them,’ he said softly.

His gloom reached over the table and ran long nails up and down my arms. ‘Do you not get on?’

He shook his head quickly, squeezed a smile onto his lips. ‘No, we get along great. They just live on the other side of the planet, so I don’t get to see them much. That’s all.’

I nodded and spooned more rice into my mouth.

Lucas reached over the table and caught my forearm. He turned my hand, palm up, and looked at the inside of my wrist. ‘I see you have your own ink.’ He ran his eyes along the line of black musical notes on a staff and hummed them — perfect pitch. God, he was good.

‘That’s familiar. What song’s that?’

I tried to pull my arm away, but he held a little tighter and kept looking.

‘Unbroken, by Tether,’ I said.

He nodded. ‘It’s a deep song.’

‘Yeah.’

‘What part of the song exactly?’

I sighed and closed my eyes — seemed he wasn’t going to let me get out of it easily. ‘Stitch me up until I’m whole again.’

He traced his finger along a pink puckered scar that ran vertical along my wrist.

‘Literally,’ he said, voice barely audible. He looked at me, sorrow seeping from his expression.

I yanked my arm back out of his clasp and laid it on my lap, out of sight. ‘Yeah.’

‘Did you try to…?

‘Yes,’ I said quickly.

‘I’m sorry things got so bad for you.’

I shook my head. Tears were constricting my throat. I breathed in deeply. ‘Just a few demons I’ve had to deal with. But, I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s okay with you.’

He nodded and offered a sad smile. ‘That’s okay with me.’

I took a mouthful of
paella,
but I’d lost my appetite. I hadn’t wanted my past encroaching on us, not while we were still getting to know each other. I wanted time before he learnt my regrets and knew how deep my issues really ran. But then again, maybe it was best he found out early on, while he could still make a run for it. Although, he did say he wanted to know every part of me, surely that meant scars and all.

Lucas clinked his spoon to his bowl and stood. I looked up at his enormous frame as he walked to my side of the table and crouched beside me so we were at eye level. Hand under my chin, he turned my head so I was facing him and was caught by his eyes. He leant closer, dragging his warmth towards me and pressed his lips to mine oh-so-softly. My eyes
closed as he opened my mouth and found my tongue with his. His stroked down my hair, to my shoulders, landing gently on the side of my neck where his fingers held me.

He leant back and peered at me. ‘I’m really glad I met you, Anthy,’ he said with absolute conviction. ‘Demons and all.’

I whispered, breathless, ‘Me too.’

***

Another bottle of Grange and the most amazing meal I’d ever eaten.

Lucas grinned cheekily. ‘Wait here,’ he said and jogged into the house, returning with an acoustic guitar.

He sat on the balcony railing, his legs resting on his seat and his guitar on his lap. He was like a photo-shopped picture of a rock god with the gleaming city as his backdrop. He strummed familiar chords and the sound curled around my limbs, clawed upwards to my heart. He sang with that husky, sexy voice and I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me. I stayed completely still, except for the steady beat of my heart, silent, not wanting to miss one melodious lift or fall. Roslyn was right — he was a saint with a seraphic voice gifted from God.

As he finished the song, emotions swelled inside me. I tried to blink back the tears, but it was too late, they were tumbling down my cheeks. Not tears of sadness, or happiness, rather, tears acknowledging that there was someone else in this world who vibrated on the same frequency as me and whose being hummed the same tune.

Lucas jumped from the rail and placed his guitar down. He moved towards me, his arms held out. I gripped his big strong hands. He lifted me from the seat and wrapped me tight in his arms. Against his hard body, his heat enveloping me, I felt so comfortable and protected. He kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, ‘You’re the perfect audience.’

I looked up into his eyes. ‘And you’re…perfect.’

He smiled. ‘I don’t know about that, especially since I haven’t served dessert yet.’

I laughed and wiped the tears from my cheeks. ‘That’s a good point. What was I thinking?’

With a hand on my back, he led me to the balcony railing. Pointing towards a little gazebo, just left of the glowing pool, he said, ‘Now see there.’

‘Yep.’

‘I was thinking of champagne and white-chocolate truffles in my spa.’

‘Heated?’

‘Like a bath.’

‘Mmmm, that sounds so good. But I didn’t bring anything to wear.’

Lucas grinned, flashing a cheeky amount of white teeth. ‘I’m sure you’ll figure something out.’

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

***

Lucas

I placed towels on the daybed and set champagne flutes onto the bench behind the spa, along with a tray of truffles. My head was muzzy and light from the wine, from spending the evening with Anthea.

Anthea dipped her fingers into the bubbling water and smiled.

I wanted it to be perfect for her. ‘Temperature okay?’

‘Just right.’

I kicked off my boots and socks, pulled my shirt over my head and unbuttoned my jeans. The breeze blowing gently through the gazebo was wintry cold and my flesh goose-bumped. I slid down my jeans, left in a pair of black boy-short briefs, and climbed into the spa, dipping under the water. Chlorine-scented steam plumed across the surface.

I sat back and watched Anthea as she shrugged out of her jacket. She slowly peeled her dress over her head, eyes never meeting mine, and flung her clothes onto the day bed. She was left standing there in a sheer white bra and tiny white briefs. My breaths deepened. I needed to look away, but I couldn’t, didn’t. She was stunning — her long dark hair falling in loose waves over her silky white flesh. Her supple breasts, bursting against her bra, would fit more than snugly in my hands. And her nipples, now hard peaks butting against the sheer fabric, would taste lush between my lips. Aw hell, I was getting hard just thinking about it.

My eyes lingered lower to the soft curves of her stomach, hips, and hovered over the cheeky tattoo of a butterfly just above her panty line. How I wanted to flutter my tongue across the colours, then even lower, over that pillowy mound barely covered by the thinnest of material. A smile teased my lips, so I squeezed them tightly together. I understood Anthea’s hesitation earlier about hopping in — her lingerie would be completely see-through when wet. This take-it-easy promise was going to prove harder than I anticipated.

Anthea climbed up the steps and dipped her feet into the spa. I reached out my arms and helped her in. She plunged into the warm water and sighed.

Leaning her head back against one of the spa pillows, she said, ‘Oh, wow. This is so good.’

I took a truffle, popped it between her delicious lips and watched her chew it slowly. Her blinks were long and heavy, mouth curled at the edges. I uncorked the champagne, filled two glasses and handed one to Anthea.

Like I needed more alcohol. Self-control around Anthea was already in short supply. I stretched my arm around her waist and pulled her to me. She rested her head on my shoulder. Coconut and vanilla — that’s what her hair smelt like. I kissed the top of her head, careful to avoid where she had hurt herself the other night.

‘Anthy,’ I said.

‘Yeah.’

‘Thank you.’

She sat up straighter and looked at me. ‘For what?’

I gently cupped her face and kissed her, long and slow, our tongues tasting each other. Forehead resting against hers, her fruity breath on my face, I said, ‘For being here with me tonight.’

‘I love being here with you, Lucas.’ Her syllables were drawn out from the wine, and she had that cute little lisp she got when she had a drink or two, but there was sincerity behind every word. My toes tingled, my fingertips, the centre of my chest. I had ached to hear those words spoken from her lips.

***

I climbed out of the spa first, the breeze biting into my flesh. I waited on the deck, arms stretched to help her out. She wobbled and I caught her flush against my chest. She was practically naked, her bra and knickers soaked through and every shadow, bump and line was visible.

Anthea groaned, her cheeks blushing, and caught her balance. ‘So much for humility,’ she said, looking down at her chest, nipples determined to burst through her bra. I
laughed, looked away — God it took all my energy to look away — and grabbed a towel. She wrapped it around her shivering body.

‘Holy shit, it’s freakin’ freezing out here,’ she said, teeth involuntarily chattering.

I wiped myself down and tied a towel around my waist. I took her hand and led her back up to the house. ‘Quickly, go have a hot shower.’

‘With you?’ she asked, her lips curved innocently, her eyes staring hotly at me.

I laughed — she was persistent. ‘That wouldn’t be conducive to taking things slow, would it?’

She shook her head and sighed. ‘No. I guess not.’

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and kissed her cold cheek. ‘So, did you want to spend the night here, rather than getting a taxi home?’

Her eyes widened and a cheeky grin slanted her lips. ‘Now who’s not being conducive?’

‘I’ve got a spare bedroom, Anthy.’

‘All alone in a strange room…in a big house. I might get scared.’

‘Is that so?’

‘I think it’d be best if I sleep with you…not
sleep-sleep
with you, but in the same bed and stuff.’ She held up her hand in a Vulcan salute. ‘I’ll be on my best behaviour, Scout’s honour.’

I tilted my head back and laughed. ‘How could I refuse that?’

‘Exactly. You can’t.’

Anthea

I showered in the guest bathroom, spending long minutes under the steaming water to stop shivering, despite my heated thoughts of the way Lucas looked in his underwear tonight. His body was mouth-watering — better than any perfectly prepared
paella
and even better than the chocolate truffles.

I brushed my teeth with a new toothbrush Lucas had given me and dressed in one of his shirts, which hung around my thighs. I had to settle for no underwear, as mine was saturated and hanging over the bath in the hopes of drying by morning.

While Lucas showered in the ensuite, I sat on the end of the king-sized bed. Flopping back against the plush mattress, I grinned wickedly as I thought of him naked behind that thin door, soaping his rigid body. I stretched my arms high above my head and tensed the excited tingles from my muscles.

This was so unlike me — to be besotted, utterly. It made my fingers tremble, mouth dry and my veins gush with life. But most importantly, when I was with him, I was free from the inner-conflict that had plagued my life since my oldest memory. The endless turmoil that had driven me into the wrong men’s arms and then pilfered me straight back out of them until I learned to fear love, and then dispute its existence altogether as though it happened only in flighty fancies and fairy tales.

I still couldn’t understand why, but Lucas was helping to stitch those old wounds. My faith was being restored in that long elusive emotion — love. Perhaps love did exist. Perhaps I would know how it felt in my own heart. Not through a song or story, but experience love and feel it with my own bones and my own blood.

Lucas stepped out from the ensuite dressed in a pair of silk black boxers that sat low on his hips. Oh, hell, how was I going to find sleep lying next to abs like that?

I pulled down my shirt and crawled up towards the pillows, hopped under the covers, yawning despite myself. My body was surrendering all of its own accord.

‘You’re tired,’ he said.

I nodded and yawned again. ‘Too much wine.’

Lucas flicked off the main light and slid in beside me. He smelt like bubbles and hot, damp man. He turned off the bedside lamp and rolled to face me.

Through the darkness I said, ‘I had a great night, Lucas. Thank you.’

He stroked my hair from my forehead and kissed me there. ‘Hopefully the first of many.’

‘Yeah.’ Already my eyelids were heavy.

He shuffled closer and kissed my mouth, slow and sweet. ‘Good night, Anthy.’

‘Ni-night.’

***

Lucas

Waking next to Anthea, the heat of her body soaking into me, stoked a fire of desire deep in my veins. My shirt, which she was wearing, had rucked up to her waist during the night, exposing her round little arse, an arse that was firmly planted against my groin, a groin that was rapidly engorging. I opened my eyes to the morning light filling the room and breathed in the soapy scent of her hair and the sweet-salty musk of her skin. She was intoxicating. The
feel of her naked arse against me made my cock so tight it ached. She turned on every primal impulse, every animalistic urge — I wasn’t used to that.

Anthea stirred and stretched a little under the covers, pressing her arse more firmly against me. I squeezed my lips to stop the moan in my throat and breathed heavily in through my nose. My flesh was burning. Every muscle was engaged, resisting the urge to roll my hips forward and push against her. But if I did that, there was no putting out that fire until it ran its course.

I thought about the faint line of scar up her wrist — she had an intensely vulnerable side I needed to be careful with. And besides, Anthea deserved more than a quick morning fuck. And she deserved to be certain of her own emotions before we took the next step.