Three Over Par Page 14
Like the well-mannered man he is, he waits until I settle before sitting down himself. A small distance exists between us, a few centimetres between our legs and backsides. We’ve experienced glorious sex, meshed our bodies, and yet now, this night, when we finally have the chance to merge our hearts, we can’t touch.
We still have too much to get through.
I finger the stem of my wineglass. There are two questions I need answers for and I’m too nervous to ask either.
Daniel gets in first. “I went and saw Robbie.”
“I know. He told me.”
Worry creases his brow, turns his crow’s feet deep, compresses his lovely mouth. “You went to see him?”
I nod. “I needed to know why he lied.”
“He says he’s in love with you.”
“Yes.” The reminder of Robbie’s feelings washes me in guilt I’m not sure I deserve to feel. I didn’t ask for him to love me, yet it’s still a burden I’m obliged to carry.
“Lucy?”
I look up.
“Do you love him?”
“No.”
“Then why did you do it?”
He doesn’t need to explain. I know what he means. Fucking someone on a golf course isn’t normal behaviour.
I cradle my glass and roll it between my palms. The wine slips up the sides and dribbles down in viscous trails. “I don’t know.” But that’s not true. I do know. I’m just afraid to explain. I put the glass next to Daniel’s and fold my arms. “It’s complicated.”
He reaches across and pulls my arms apart, then takes my left hand in both of his and holds it gently. “Try me.”
The care in his touch draws the words from my mouth. “I had a patient, Mrs. Debenham. She died bitter.” I take a shuddery breath. “She kept telling me things. Warning me. Life…love hadn’t been kind to her and she’d so many regrets.” I shake my head, biting my lip at the memory of her raging against the injustice of her existence. “So, so many. And it hurt to watch her die with them. Not with peace, but with so much anger at not having lived properly. I didn’t want to end up like that.”
“None of us do.” He thinks for a moment, weighing my words, what he needs to understand to make us work. A third person still haunts our relationship and we both want him exorcised. “That still doesn’t explain how it started with Robbie.”
I imbue my gaze with every vestige of candour I can drag from my soul. I don’t want the torment of the past to hang between us. “I never loved him, Daniel. Not even at the start. I’ll admit he knew how to turn me on, but that wasn’t love. It was just sex. And after that first time I justified what I’d done by telling myself I was living. Just like Mrs. Debenham had ordered. So I kept doing it. Then you came along and I couldn’t stop.”
“You could have ended the lessons,” he answers softly.
“No, I couldn’t have.” I grip his forearm with my free hand. “You have to understand. I fell in love with you the first day you kissed me, but away from the golf course you could hardly bring yourself to look at me. I had to keep the lessons going. They were the only way I could be with you.”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head as though he can’t believe the mess we’ve made of ourselves. “I could kill Robbie.”
“I know. But he had his reasons for doing what he did.”
“You’re more forgiving than me.”
He’s right. But while I understand that what Robbie did is wrong, I also know that love makes people do stupid things. I only have to look at myself to realise that. I fucked two men. On a country golf course. Not once but multiple times, and all because I was so in love with one of them, so scared that it would be all I’d ever have of him, I couldn’t stop. You can’t get much more stupid behaviour.
“Love makes idiots of us all, Daniel.”
“Yeah, you can say that again. And I’m the biggest prize idiot there is.” His mouth narrows to express his annoyance. Not at me, at himself for allowing Robbie to dupe us both. “I couldn’t figure out why you were with him. I used to watch you on the course sometimes. It seemed to me you didn’t even like him, let alone love him.”
“I didn’t. Not really. I didn’t even consider him a friend until recently. He was just someone I had sex with.”
“But you enjoyed it.”
There’s no point denying the truth. I did enjoy the sex, the teasing, the thrilling, wild games Robbie invented. “I did, but it was just sex, Daniel. Nothing more.”
His eyelids droop a little as though in relief. He stretches an arm across the back of the sofa to tangle his fingers lightly in my hair. “I should have listened to Nan. She kept insisting you were single but I chose to believe Robbie’s lies instead.” His eyes lock with mine. “It seemed like the truth because you kept fucking him.”
“Only because it meant I could be with you.” I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t exactly hide my feelings for you, you know.”
“Yeah, but how was I supposed to know who you really wanted? And I didn’t want to share.” He takes a breath. “I don’t want to share now.”
I reach for his face and press my palm against his cheek. Of all the things he needs to understand, this is the most important. “It’s over, Daniel.” I can see he wants to ask more but is afraid. A trace of worry remains around his eyes and his mouth is still grim. “What are you worried about?”
He shrugs and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “The sex, I guess.”
“I don’t know about you, but I consider the sex we’ve shared pretty special.”
“It was, but it was with another man.” He holds my gaze. “I don’t want to share you, Lucy. Not again. If that’s what you like then—”
“No. It’s not.” I hunt for an explanation. “I mean, it was good but I can live without it.”
“Are you sure?”
I smile and lean into the hand that’s been playing with my hair. He cradles it around my head, fingers rubbing gently. “All I want is to be with you. To have a normal, healthy relationship with no one else involved.”
He returns my smile, burnished eyes glowing. “Good. Because I’m not really into that kinky stuff.”
“Not even a little bit? Come on, you must have had the two-girls-together fantasy.”
The statement brings a grin to his face. “That’s not kinky.”
I roll my eyes. “Only a man would make that comment.”
As we laugh, the iPod switches to an upbeat song. Our mood balloons, aerated by our relief and happiness. The air is now free of worry, blown away by the incoming breeze of our future. Robbie has at last left the room.
And then I remember Daniel’s resignation. My laughter stops as though chopped in half.
“What?” Daniel leans toward me, searching my face for the reason behind my sudden mood swing. “What is it?”
I swallow. Even after all we’ve revealed I’m still stupidly fearful. The two questions I’m so desperate for answers to still haven’t been answered. “Trudi Matthews said you resigned. She said you were moving to Sale to be closer to your sister.”
He nods. “I did.”
My throat closes over so fast I almost can’t get the word out. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I saw you and Robbie in the carpark and you looked…” He raises his eyes and searches for the right phrase. “Like lovers. And I couldn’t think straight. All I knew was that if I had to watch any more of you two together, I’d end up doing something stupid.” He smiles grimly. “Which is ironic because I did anyway. I walked back to the shed, wrote out my resignation and took it straight to Trevor. Thank Christ he didn’t accept it.”
“He didn’t?”
“No. He told me not to be an idiot and tore it up. Then ordered me to take a week off. I drove to the beach. Camped out. Went fishing.” His eyes lock with mine, overflowing with inference. “Thought about you.”
I exhale loudly, as though relief has pushed all the air from my lungs. “So you’re not leaving?”
A smil
e warms his face. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
My heart breaks into a gallop. It’s time for my second question. The one that really matters. The one I think I now know the answer to. “So, that means…” My voice trails away. I can’t do it.
“That I’m in love with you?”
Heat flashes up my cheeks. I press my lips together and nod.
“Christ, Lucy. What do you think?”
“I think maybe—”
Broad, rough hands cup my face. His mouth closes over mine, shutting off whatever words my love-fuddled brain was about to form. I thought the very first kiss we experienced together was the one to end all kisses but this one makes it seem almost devoid of sensuality. All the unspoken words, pain, frustration and unrequited, hopeless longing we felt combusts in one long, wonderful kiss.
After what seems like several blissful minutes, but is probably only seconds, he relaxes his hold and leans back a little to look at me. His autumn-forest eyes glitter in the yellowy glow of the lamplight. The highlights in his hair appear more sun-kissed than ever, as though a painter has dipped his brush in liquid gold and streaked it through his hair. But it’s his expression that moves me most. A look of pure love that sends my insides somersaulting like a hyperactive gymnast.
He strokes a finger down my cheek. “Does that give you your answer?”
I grin, too ecstatic to reply.
“I love you,” he says simply, and they’re the most perfect words I’ve ever heard.
We kiss again and fall into an embrace that contains more warmth than a thousand sunrises, more meaning than a million dictionaries and more peace than all the truces the world has ever seen.
My eyes are closed. My ear presses against his chest. I can stay cradled there, listening to his heartbeat, forever. Catahoop has long stopped playing but I have music enough. The flawless melody of a heart beating with love.
Slowly we pull apart and lean our heads against the sofa, staring at one another with doe eyes. It’s teenaged and soppy and utterly wonderful.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says with a smile in his voice.
“Like what?”
“Like, I don’t know. Like you want me to take you to bed.”
“I don’t. I mean, I do but…” I had sex with him so many times, I’m not sure I want to spoil the intimacy we’re experiencing with it.
He reads my mind. “It’ll be different this time, Lucy.”
And I realise he’s right. It will be. It’ll be just us. No hurry, no fear and no Robbie. Us. Perfect lovers because we love.
We leave the glasses and wine bottle where they are and slowly walk hand in hand to my bedroom.
At the door he stops and strokes my cheek. “I’ve wanted this for months.”
“So have I.”
He smiles, delicious mouth curling, and my stomach flutters as though it’s developed wings. Only this time it can really fly.
We both can.
In our backwards romance we’ve done sex multiple times. Now it’s time for the real lovemaking to start.
His finger trails to my mouth and circles my lips. The movement is languid and indulgent, and all the time a smile twinkles in his eyes, a besotted teenage expression that says he can’t believe his luck. I know how he feels. After the months of uncertainty and agony, this feels almost surreal.
His gaze lowers and he steps closer. His body heat radiates against me. I think of the muscled chest and bulging arms he exposed on the day he helped Mrs. Croydon and realise I have a lifetime in which to explore that magnificent landscape. A buzz of excitement vibrates low in my belly. Daniel is mine. For now. Forever.
Biting my lip to suppress my geysering delight, I raise my hands to his chest and begin to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. “I’ve thought about your chest a lot, you know.”
“Have you?”
“Yeah.” I unfasten another button. “All those sexy ripples were very disturbing.”
He raises one eyebrow, teasing me. “Disturbing?”
I keep my face serious although I’m bubbling with joy. “In a good way.”
“That’s all right then.”
Buttons undone, I brush aside the fabric to expose his skin and press my palms against his pectorals. I’ve only ever felt them through the heavy cotton of his work shirt and am not prepared for the sheer deliciousness of him. He’s smooth, muscled and vital. I spread my fingers. His pulse beats against them, strong surges from a strong heart.
He leans forward to kiss me. Gentle nibbles that move across my mouth and trail over my cheek to my ear. He nuzzles and sucks at the lobe before moving down to patter more kisses along my exposed collarbone. I shudder in happiness and slide my hands further into his shirt, relishing every contour, every swell and undulation of his toned torso.
He moves back up my throat to my mouth, kissing me lightly and then harder until we’re touching tongues and making hungry noises in the backs of our throats. He tastes faintly of the red wine we have drunk and sweet healthy breath, a combination that makes me want to taste more, to drink him until there’s nothing left. Until I have him all inside me.
As we lose ourselves in the kiss, the atmosphere changes. Urgency overtakes us. His breath, like mine, becomes shallow. He pushes me against the doorframe and presses the length of his taut body against mine. He’s hard and hot, and growing hotter under my constantly roving hands. I’m no different. My nipples and groin are engorged with blood, ready for the pleasure ahead.
He slides his mouth away and trails his tongue down my throat as he tugs at my T-shirt and releases it from my jeans. His hands burrow underneath and glide quickly upward to thumb my breasts through the lace of my bra. A rash of ecstatic prickles erupts over my skin, turning my nipples even harder. He palms the nubs, cupping and fondling until my legs jelly and I’m melting against the doorframe. The hard edge digs into my back but I don’t care. All I care about is his touch, the fire he’s ignited inside me. I moan my pleasure and reach for his cock.
With a groan, he buries his face in my neck, breath rapid on my skin. “Christ, Lucy.”
Not understanding his sudden change, I tense and still. “What?” Quickly, I pull him from my neck and cup his face, searching it for meaning. “What?”
His eyes are full of apology. “I wanted to take this slow. Make it special.”
“It is special.” Relieved, I kiss his nose, marvelling at his sweetness, his unrelenting consideration, and smile. “Haven’t you noticed? Everything we do together is special.”
He sighs and shakes his head, and regards me in a way that makes my heart turn cartwheels. “Christ, I love you.”
“And I love you.” I tilt my head toward the bed, grinning to lighten the mood. “But right now, I’d really like to get naked.”
It works. He laughs and kisses me. “Anything you want.”
Suddenly I’m in his arms, dramatically draped like a B-grade film heroine. He grins down at me, stupidly happy, and I beam back, effervescent with our shared joy. In four easy strides, he’s by the bed. He lays me gently down, hovering over me with his weight resting on those muscular arms.
Shirt hanging open, he eyes me, a half-smile on his face, as though scheming what to do next. Unable to resist touching him, I tickle his belly.
The smile disappears. “Don’t.”
My eyes widen. “You’re ticklish?”
He says nothing.
“Oh my God, you are!” I attack in earnest, giggling as he squirms and tries to escape the assault.
“I’m warning you, Lucy.” The tightly-held laughter in his voice only makes me tickle harder. “Right. That’s it.” He straddles me and snatches my wrists, pinning them above my head as though I have no muscle power at all. Now I’m the vulnerable one. He smiles wolfishly. “Now, what shall I do with you?”
I repeat the words I used the last time we made love. “Love me.”
His expression is the same as then, only this time I can interpret it.
Sober now, we undress, our movements slow and loving. We touch and admire, whispering words of wonder and appreciation, and when we’re both naked, lying facing one another on the bed, we stop and simply stare, drinking in what we have both wanted for so long.
He trails his hand from my shoulder to my hip and down my thigh. “You’re beautiful.”
I skate my palm over his taut buttock cheek, entranced by his masculinity. His cock sits smooth and huge against his rippled belly. A procession of dark hair runs from his chest to disappear into a nest of curls at his groin. His body speaks of robust good health, of fitness and vitality, a man in the perfect sense. “So are you.”
Watching my face, he runs his fingers up my stomach toward my breasts and rolls a turgid nipple between his thumb and forefinger. My mouth parts as a burst of energy throttles from the point straight to my groin. He continues to tease, observing my reaction as he switches from one breast to the other.
“Did you know you turn pink when you’re turned on?” There’s wonder in his voice, as if he’s made some spectacular discovery.
I try to think of a reply and can’t. His ministrations are draining my lucidity. Needy, I reach for his cock and stroke the tips of my fingers across the head. They slide on his oozing excitement. I make circles in the delicate flesh and am rewarded with his sharp breaths. In reply, he releases my left nipple and edges his fingers lower, walking them like tiny animal feet across my skin until they reach my outer lips. I cease my circles. My breath hitches and my eyelids half close as I wait for the first feathery stroke.
They stay where they are, teasing me as he kisses and tongues his way from my neck to my breasts and sucks greedily at a protruding nub. Mewling, I cradle him to me and push my hips forward, demonstrating my desire, this love-fired blaze of want.
“Please, Daniel.”
He curls his finger. It slides on my leaked juices. My labia parts, allowing him access. As it slips inside and caresses my swollen clit, he nips at my nipple. Another electric thrill resonates through my body, vibrating harder with each stroke of my clit. I tug at his cock, imagining it throbbing inside me, my body pulsing around its length.