Kiss and Make Up Page 15
Tabby alone hadn’t drunk any alcohol that night, and nobody questioned the fact that she was on lemonade all evening, so she knew Eli must have told them about her prospective pregnancy. What a bizarre situation. The elephant in the room was growing into a T. Rex that they all politely pretended wasn’t sitting in front of them, blocking out the TV. It didn’t stop them from enjoying themselves, and her face hurt from laughing so much, but she was aware from the occasional odd comment—plus how Madeleine kicked Mick when he asked her for the third time if she wanted a glass of wine, and the way she knew Madeleine was badgering Eli every time she went out of the room—that the situation played on their minds.
Only Eli seemed unbothered by it. And when they went to bed and she stood by the window looking out at the sea, he came up and put his hands on her hips, kissing her neck, making it quite clear what he was in the mood for.
“I thought you’d be too full for any action.” He’d eaten a huge dish of seafood for dinner, as well as what must have been the better part of a loaf of bread, and a gigantic helping of some kind of steamed pudding and custard to finish.
“Never. I’m a scientific marvel.”
She laughed and ruffled his hair. “I am, though. I think we need to do something else for half an hour, until my dinner goes down.”
“Oh?” He turned her in his arms and kissed her.
She pushed him away. “Take off your clothes and lie on the bed.”
“Okay…”
As he undressed, she went over to her bag and came back carrying a packet that she threw onto the bed next to him. He sat down in his boxers and picked it up. They were soap crayons, six of them, blue, red, yellow, green, black, and white. “Huh. Are you going to turn me into a human canvas?”
She laughed and stripped to her underwear, then placed a pillow on the floor and knelt beside him. “This is how I relax. You can keep your boxers on, if you like. Come on, lie down.”
He stretched out, and she rested her elbows on the bed next to his chest. She kissed the nipple nearest to her and smiled as he raised an eyebrow. “Sing to me while I draw on you.”
“That’s quite possibly the most bizarre sentence a girl’s ever said to me, you know.”
“I like to be different.”
“Clearly.” He looked amused. “What do you want me to sing?”
“I don’t mind. Run through your repertoire.” She pulled out the crayons, chose the red one, and started drawing. “Stop twitching.”
“It tickles.” He shifted and settled. “These aren’t permanent markers, are they?”
“They’re soap crayons, Eli. They’ll wash off in the bath.”
“Ah. In that case, I’m very happy to oblige.”
He started singing John Mayer’s “Edge of Desire,” and Tabby lost herself in his voice and in the patterns she created on his chest, covering his warm, brown skin with swirls, spirals, stars, and circles, filling them in with all six colors. She used to do it as a child to take her mind off anything that was troubling her, because she had difficulty thinking about anything else once she started drawing. She covered his chest in color, then his legs, marveling at the muscles in his thighs and the solidness of his knees as she worked before coming back up to decorate his shoulders and arms, ending up with his hands. The crayons weren’t high-quality paints, and she’d worn them down on the rest of his body, but she still managed to make a rainbow of sorts across his fingers, continuing the color across his palms.
She looked up at the clock when she’d finished to see with some surprise that over an hour had passed. The moon was high in the sky and cast a silver trail across the flat sea, scattering its beams into their bedroom, which lay across Eli like white icicles.
He studied the patterns on his skin. “Feel better?”
“Yes, thanks.” The intensity of emotion that had driven her to lose herself in the color had passed, and she lay down the crayons, stood, and stretched. “You should have seen me at school. I drove my teachers nuts. I’d spend lesson upon lesson covering my hands and arms with stars and moons drawn in marker. I think they thought I had a screw loose, but I just like drawing on people.” She stopped then and bit her lip. It sounded stupid when she said it aloud, and she wondered what he thought of her, drawing on him with crayons like a five-year-old.
He just smiled, though, sitting up and admiring himself before he stood to wrap her in his arms. “Did it take your mind off things?”
“I…” She didn’t know what to say to that.
“It’s okay.” He kissed her and then pulled back to examine his skin again with a smile. “I’m not complaining. Because now you get to wash it all off as a punishment.”
She laughed and led him toward their private bathroom. It featured a large tub, and she fitted the plug and began to fill it with hot water, adding a healthy dollop of bath foam from the bottle she’d brought with her. “What would you do if we’d run out of hot water?” she said impishly.
“Torture you relentlessly, Rogers. Now get your underwear off—you’re getting in with me.”
Her eyes widened. “With you?”
“You’re tiny and it’s a big bath. Come on, strip.” He kicked off his boxers and stood before her with hands on hips as he waited for her to join him. She took off her clothes, and then he pulled her into his arms.
He kissed her until she was breathless and the bath was half full, and then they got in. She spent a pleasant ten minutes scrubbing him, and when she finished he pulled her onto his lap. But the bath wasn’t quite big enough, and after several minutes of trying to maneuver themselves into a comfortable position that had them both laughing by the end, he lost patience. He stood, lifted her out of the water, and carried her into the bedroom, still dripping.
“The bed!” she squealed as he went to lower her onto the duvet.
“Don’t care.”
“Eli…”
Grumbling, he carried her into the bathroom so she could pick up a couple of towels before bringing her back into the bedroom. She threw the towels over the duvet and permitted him to lower her on top of them.
He lay beside her and stroked her cheek. Looking up at him, she smoothed back his wet hair. He still had the odd fleck of paint over his torso, but he was so gorgeous, it made her want to weep.
“Don’t,” he said, stroking her face.
“Don’t what?”
But he didn’t finish the sentence. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids, and then continued down her body, covering every inch of her with his lips and tongue. He kissed behind her knees, inside her ankles, every one of her toes, the dip on the small of her back, the lobes of her ears. There was something reverential about his lovemaking this time. He tasted her, teased her, and eventually she couldn’t bear it any longer. If he was going to continue worshipping her like this, she would end up in tears.
Desperate to step it up a notch, to turn it from gentle lovemaking to “just sex,” she rose and pushed him onto his back. He complained and tried to get up.
“If you don’t lie still, I’ll tie you to the bed,” she promised.
His eyes widened. “I’m very tempted to fidget on purpose.”
She let her lips linger above his. “You think I’m joking? Try me.” She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, tugged a little, and then plunged her tongue into his mouth.
He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, but before he could get carried away, she pulled back and kissed down his neck. He groaned, but his complaints came to an abrupt halt as she continued down along his chest and over his stomach.
She shifted on the bed, kneeling between his legs. Eli pushed up onto his elbows, and she thought maybe he was holding his breath as she took his erection in her hand. Slowly, she gave him a long stroke, admiring the way the skin slid to reveal the glistening tip before closing back over it. Moistening her lips, she met his gaze. His pupils had dilated, turning his eyes dark, and his chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths.
Tabby bent her
head and closed her mouth over the tip of his erection.
His breath left him in a rush, and he fell back onto the pillow, covering his face with his hands. Gleeful with this newfound power, she stroked him with one hand while exploring the head with her tongue and lips. He tasted divine, and her inner muscles clenched with delight at giving him such pleasure.
She slid her lips down his shaft, taking him deep inside her mouth. He lowered his hand to rest on her head, his fingers sliding into her hair, and she moaned as he applied gentle pressure, encouraging her to take more of him. She did so, needing to feel him climax, to have him fill her mouth with his silky fluid, wanting to swallow him down. The urge was stronger than anything she’d felt before, and she stroked him more firmly, sucking as she teased him with her tongue.
His breathing turned harsh and ragged, and excitement spread through her at the thought that he was close to coming, but without warning he sat up and tightened his hands on her shoulders. Before she could stop him, he lifted her up his body and claimed her mouth with his own.
She pushed herself up, sitting astride him. She felt confused and a little embarrassed, relatively inexperienced at this. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Did I do something wrong?” Damn it, she’d wanted so much to please him.
He just snorted, reached for his wallet, pulled out a condom, and rolled it on, all in the blink of an eye. “You were a fraction of a second from doing something very right, Tabatha Rogers.”
“Then why—”
He held her hips, lifted her up, and in one smooth thrust, he was inside her. “Because I wanted to do this,” he murmured. He closed his eyes, swelling inside her. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“Ah…” She tipped her head back and just enjoyed the feel of him stretching her, filling her up. “Eli…”
“You do it, Tabbs. As quick or as slow as you like. I’m all yours.”
She dropped her head to look at him, and when he took her hands in his own, she linked her fingers with his and began to rock her hips. The delicious slide of him inside her soon had her filling the room with her sighs.
He pulled her hands above his head and captured a nipple with his mouth, and Tabby closed her eyes. How come even when she’d tried to ramp it up, he still managed to turn hot sex into making love? No matter what he did, he drove her insane with passion and made her melt with longing. This man was going to be her undoing.
Heat built inside her, and she rocked faster, grinding against him and arousing herself with each thrust. He let her sit upright, and his fingers clenched hers, as if he were struggling to hold onto his own desire. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. She let her head fall back and came, tightening around him in blissful pulses.
Only then did Eli give into his own climax. Through blurry vision, she watched him, loving his fierce frown, his gasps of pleasure as he gave hard jerks of his hips for what seemed like forever until finally his body let him relax.
He opened his eyes and met her gaze, and his lips curved in a sexy, satisfied smile. She’d done that—given him pleasure, brought him to the edge, and tipped him over. It was the absolute best thing in the world, and at that moment, she knew no other man was ever going to make her feel the same way.
To her shock, her bottom lip quivered. She knew he’d seen it because he immediately lifted her off and disposed of the condom, got rid of the damp towels, then pulled the duvet over her and stroked her hair as her breathing grew regular again. He didn’t mention her tears and neither did she, but her display of emotion exemplified the uncertainty of their situation, and although she regretted it, she didn’t try to hide it.
She hovered on the edge of sleep, feeling the comforting rise and fall of his chest behind her. She kissed his arm where it lay wrapped around her, and she felt him kiss her hair in return.
I love you, she thought.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Chapter Eighteen
In the end, in spite of the fact that their time together was drawing to a close, the next day was lovely. The four of them did some sightseeing at the Abel Tasman National Park, ate lunch at a local vineyard, and spent a pleasant couple of hours walking along the beach again, talking and enjoying one another’s company.
As the day wore on, though, Eli became aware that Tabby was growing quieter and wondered whether the thought of returning to Wellington the next morning was playing on her mind, or if it was something else.
They returned to the beach house around six, intending to have an hour to themselves before getting ready for dinner at a local restaurant at seven. Eli and Tabby went into their bedroom, and he slipped off his jacket and shoes and stretched out on the bed. Tabby prowled nervously, however. She took off her earrings and brushed her hair, folded up her clothes, and generally seemed unable to sit down.
Eli watched her for five minutes before saying, “It’s usually me that’s the fidgety one. What’s up?”
She stopped and turned to face him, her gaze fixed on the ground, hands on hips. Then, finally, she looked up. Her eyes were calm but cautious, and he could see she was breathing fast.
She took a deep breath, leaned over to her bag, and extracted a box, turning it to show him the front. It was a pregnancy test.
“Ah,” he said.
“My period still hasn’t started,” she told him. “It’s only two days late, but these things are supposed to be accurate from the first day of a missed period. I got it yesterday, from the pharmacy. I thought…I just thought maybe we should know before…”
Eli’s heart pounded, but he kept his gaze calm. “That makes sense.” He stood then and came over to hold her hand. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and swallowed, her brown eyes large. “Will you do it with me?”
“I don’t think it’ll work if I pee on the stick.”
She didn’t smile. “You know what I mean.”
He bit his lip—now wasn’t the time for jokes. His nerves had loosened his mouth. “Sorry. Yes. Of course.”
She took his hand and led him toward the bathroom, carrying the box. He followed, shut the door behind him, and sat on the edge of the bath. His mouth was dry. Inside the pocket of his jeans, he could feel the jewelry box pressing against his leg. He rested his hand on it, finding some strange comfort at the thought of the ring inside. A peculiar exhilaration swept through him as she unwrapped the pregnancy test and put the cellophane wrapper in the trash can.
She took out the stick and gave him the box. “Here, I’ve read it, but you do it as well, so I don’t make a mistake.”
He popped outside while she peed on the stick, and read the instructions. They were pretty simple. There were two windows on the stick: a small, diamond-shaped “control window” that showed if the test had worked, and a larger, circular window, in which a plus sign appeared to indicate a pregnancy or a minus sign to indicate no pregnancy.
The door opened. He went back in and watched as she clipped the lid on the stick and placed it face down on the sink. He felt a surge of affection for her when he saw her hands shaking.
“Hey.” He stood and walked over, slid his hand behind her neck, and bent to kiss her. He pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay.”
She slid hers around him, holding him tightly. He could feel her heart thundering against his chest, matching his own.
They stood there like that for several minutes. Thoughts raced through his head, but he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing, trying not to think.
Eventually, Tabby drew a shaky breath. “Okay. It must have worked by now.”
He met her gaze. “Together?”
“Yep.” She reached for the stick, and they both watched as she turned it over.
The large window bore a clear minus sign.
She wasn’t pregnant.
Eli stared at it, and his jaw dropped open. It was only then that he realized how certain he’d been that she was going to have a baby. His baby. He couldn’t think of what to say. The dis
appointment welling up in him made him stare at her blankly.
“Oh,” said Tabby. She examined the stick for a moment as if it might change its mind. After a while, however, she threw it in the bin and washed her hands. She dried them on the towel and looked up at him. “Well, thank God for that.”
Eli shoved his hands in his pockets, his fingers closing around the jewelry box. Her words shocked him to the core. She hadn’t wanted the baby. Her relief was obvious. She didn’t need him to come to her rescue.
For a long, long moment, they studied each other. He felt tongue-tied, devastated, and emotional at the same time. But she obviously expected him to say something, some reaction to her obvious relief that they weren’t going to have a baby, so he forced a smile onto his face and said, “Yeah. We can get on with our lives now, can’t we?”
Tabby nodded. Her eyes met his, bright and hot, and for a moment, he thought he saw a glimmer of tears. Then she walked past him, out of the bathroom. He heard her moving around the bedroom, and then her footsteps echoed down the hall. The front door opened and closed.
“Fuck.” He sat on the bath and put his head in his hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Outside, he heard whispered voices, and then Madeleine said, “What’s happened?” He looked up to see both her and Mick at the doorway, watching him worriedly. “Tabby went out. She looked upset.”
He let out a heavy sigh and put his head back in his hands. “She’s not pregnant.”
“Ah,” Madeleine said.
Mick scratched his head. “That’s good though, right?”
Madeleine whacked him. “For God’s sake.”
“What?” Mick looked confused. “I thought they’d made a mistake.”
“We had,” Eli said, closing his eyes. “It is a good thing.”
“So why do you have a ring in your pocket?” Madeleine asked.
Her question made him feel like a fool for not doing as he’d planned and asking Tabby anyway, but Madeleine hadn’t been there, she hadn’t seen Tabby’s relief. “If she was pregnant, I would have wanted to do the right thing.”