Lucy King - Her Ex, Her Future? - One Night with Her Ex / Seven Nights with Her Ex / Backstage with Her Ex

‘Then what are you waiting for?’

‘Absolutely nothing,’ she said, curling a leg around his hip and rolling him onto his back.

Straddling his hips, she leaned forwards to kiss him and, taking him in one hand, positioned him and, unable to wait any longer, sank down.

He groaned into her mouth and she gasped at the feel of him stretching her, filling her, so tight, so deep. He began to move but she stilled him.

‘Wait,’ she said.

‘What?’

‘Patience, my darling.’

‘Not one of my virtues. Although I must say I’ve astounded myself this last week.’

‘Really?’

‘Like you wouldn’t believe. Not as much as you’re astounding me now though.’

‘You like this?’ she said teasingly.

‘I always did. You know that.’

‘Me too.’

He reared up then and, clamping one hand to the back of her neck, the other to her hip, held her close. She could feel his heart thudding against her. Inside her. And then unable to help herself she began to move. Rocking slowly against him, rolling her hips forwards as he thrust up.

The rain continued to pound the roof and the terrace, and sweat coated her skin as the heat inside her grew.

Kit brought her head forwards, caught her mouth with his, and she clutched at his shoulders, barely able to stand the pleasure coursing through her. She whimpered. He moaned and she felt the tension, the desperation clawing at her.

‘God, Lily,’ he said, breaking the kiss for a moment, his breathing harsh and fast and his face tight.

‘I know.’ She was trembling so much, feeling so much she thought she might burst with the pressure of it.

‘I love you,’ he said quietly, looking deep into her eyes.

‘I love you too.’

And then his grip on her tightened and he was moving harder and faster and she was grinding down onto him and then with one last powerful thrust he buried himself deep inside her. She felt him pulsate and throb, and the vibrations and the words he groaned into her ear tipped her over the edge, her body erupting in ecstasy.

* * *

Lying on the sun lounger and gazing up at the canopy of stars with Lily snuggled between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder, both of them wrapped in his sheets, Kit thought it was kind of hard to believe that only a couple of hours ago he’d been considering jacking it all in with her.

At one point he’d been about as low as he could be but now, after the craziest, best afternoon he’d had in years, there were possibilities. Infinite possibilities.

Just as the storm had cleared the heavy tropical air of dust and heat, leaving everything clean and fresh, they’d cleared the air of the doubt and frustration that had lain between them.

Now he and Lily had the chance to make a new start, and he intended to take full advantage of the fact that those doors were no longer merely ajar but wide open.

‘Have you really been thinking about this for the last four days?’ Lily murmured, cutting into his thoughts as she gently ran her fingers along his forearm, which lay across her beneath her breasts.

‘Pretty much every second.’

‘I never guessed.’

‘Nor I about you.’

‘What a lot of time we’ve wasted.’

Her words held a note of regret and he smiled faintly. ‘I don’t think so.’

She tilted her head back and round to glance up at him. ‘No?’

‘Well, put it this way, if we’d done this days ago we’d never have seen or done half the things we have. In all likelihood we wouldn’t have left the villa.’

‘That’s true.’

‘I’d never have learnt how good you are at fishing.’

‘That was just beginner’s luck.’

‘We wouldn’t have seen the Madagascar anemonefish.’

‘We wouldn’t. And it was incredible. Still, I’m pretty sure I’d rather have been doing this.’

She had a point. ‘Good to see our ability to communicate is as strong as ever,’ he said.

‘Yeah.’

‘When did we get so bad at reading each other?’ he murmured, idly stroking his fingers through her hair and feeling her shiver.

‘You have to ask?’

He grimaced in the dark. ‘Not really.’

More of a gradual descent than a sudden drop, it had started at around the time of the third failed cycle of IVF, he knew. They’d had such hopes. Dashed once again. Unable to deal with the devastating disappointment, Lily had withdrawn into herself, slowly turning into someone he didn’t recognise, and as he hadn’t had a clue how to help her he’d spent more and more time at work, telling himself he needed to do it in order to move on and up, but, more likely, subconsciously wanting to avoid her, the situation and the disintegration of their relationship.

‘Anyway,’ she said, pulling him back, ‘I think the last couple of hours proved that we’ve rediscovered the art.’

They had indeed. Their bodies instinctively recognised each other. Moved together as if they’d never been apart. He remembered what she liked with barely any effort of thought and she remembered what drove him wild.

A gentle gust of wind ruffled her hair and he felt it slide against his fingers like silk. ‘I like this,’ he said.

‘My hair?’

‘It suits you short.’

‘Thank you.’

‘When did you change it?’

‘Years ago.’

‘A new start?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Why did you never remarry, Lily?’

At his question, Lily went still, tensed a little, then relaxed in the kind of way that felt as if it had taken some effort. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said lightly. Too lightly, he thought. ‘Once bitten, twice shy, maybe.’

‘That’s all?’

Where the question had come from Kit had no idea, but now it was out there he was rather interested, rather hoping she’d admit that she’d never truly got over him.

She sighed. ‘No. Not really.’

‘Then why?’

‘I never met anyone.’

‘Seriously?’ He found that rather hard to believe. Lily was gorgeous. Fun. Successful. He’d have thought she’d have been snapped up within weeks. Was very glad she hadn’t.

‘To be more accurate I suppose I never let myself meet anyone,’ she said, twining her fingers through his. ‘At least not anyone I could be properly interested in.’

Kit frowned, unable to work that out. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I guess I always figured a deep and meaningful relationship would put me in a vulnerable position or something. I didn’t—don’t—ever want to be in a situation again which could lead to the kind of pain and heartache and desolation I went through with you. Does that make any sense whatsoever?’

‘More than it should. So what are you saying? You’ve been celibate all these years?’

‘No, of course not,’ she said with a soft laugh that clearly didn’t take into consideration the jealousy lancing through him at the thought of her with other men. ‘I’ve been out with guys. Nice guys. Had flings and things. But none of them involved the earth-moving, mind-shattering, fireworks-and-explosions kind of sex we had. It was more a case of the scratching of an itch. Which suited me just fine at the time.’

‘But not now?’

She turned her head and smiled up at him. ‘What do you think?’

Kit thought that she was never having sex—good or bad—with anyone else ever again.

‘Anyway, what about you?’ she said. ‘Why haven’t you ever remarried? You always did want children and it can’t have been for lack of opportunity.’

‘It wasn’t.’

‘Silly me for asking.’

The trace of jealousy in her voice made him smile. ‘But every relationship I’ve attempted tended to be hampered by the problem you solved on New Year’s Eve.’