Authors: Rosalind James
“And a Nannycam, I reckon,” Drew said. “Or we could stay in
range of the baby monitor. Have a picnic out on the deck.”
Koti laughed. “My sister Hope says that the cord stays
attached after they’re born. Just invisible. Seems to me it stays that way for
a long time. Stretches itself thinner and thinner over the years, till it’s a
thread. The bond’s still there. But the mum can let go, a bit at a time.”
Hannah looked at him in amazement.
“I know,” Kate told her. “Isn’t he full of surprises? He has
seven nieces and nephews. That explains part of it.”
“Well, since you’re an expert,” Hannah said with a smile,
“you’re welcome to come over too, if we get Kate to babysit. Maybe next Monday
night, since you boys will have the day off.”
“Thanks,” Koti said. “As that’s my date night as well.”
“Babysitting on your date. That’ll be pretty special,”
Hannah commiserated.
“I was there when this little fella was born, wasn’t I.
Reckon I should get to know him. And I don’t trust Kate to know what to do.”
“I do too,” Kate objected. “Just feed him and change him.
Easy.”
Koti and Hannah looked at each other and laughed. “I’d
better come along,” he decided. “Just in case.”
“We need something that goes with fish.” Kate stood
undecided in the produce aisle of the Takapuna New World the following Sunday.
“Potatoes or rice? Which would you prefer? I went to the Market this morning
and bought fresh John Dory. That Maori guy in the fish stall can fillet a fish
faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t want to get in a knife fight with
him.”
“I don’t fancy fish tonight,” Koti objected. “I was thinking
about a steak.”
“Unfortunately, though, fish doesn’t keep. And I’m excited
about trying something new, in our ongoing attempt to become competent in the
kitchen. I even got advice on how to cook it, and I’m looking forward to seeing
how it turns out.”
He grunted in response, his expression glum. With a shove
and a sigh, she moved the trolley to one side of the aisle and turned to face him.
“Look, Koti. If you didn’t want to go shopping with me today,
why didn’t you tell me so? I could have done my own and left you alone. There’s
no reason for us even to have dinner together if you’d rather be by yourself. Because
you seem pretty tired. Pretty grumpy too, if you want to know the truth. My
attempts to cheer you up aren’t working, and I can’t read your mind. So you’d
better tell me what’s going on here. Is it the game last night, or is it
something to do with me?”
“If you have a think about it for a minute, you may be able
to come up with the reason,” he told her with a scowl. “In case you didn’t
notice, my form was rubbish last night, and we lost the game. Hard to win when
the team’s off pace anyway, and you’re a man down. Because some wally made a
bad tackle and was sinbinned.”
“You mean when you were sent off, nobody replaced you?”
“No,” he said sarcastically. “Nobody replaced me. Do you
even listen to the commentary? Ten minutes with fourteen men on the field.
That’s a bloody long time. Asking your teammates to make up the difference.
Which they couldn’t. Maybe you noticed that.”
“All right. I get it. Watch how you talk to me, though. I
understand that you’re upset. But being rude to me isn’t going to help. It’s
just going to make me walk out on you again. Fair warning. You’re about ten
seconds away.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m shocking company. Should have
stayed home, you’re right. But I’m wondering why I’m even trying to do this.
Supposed to be more aggressive with the tackling. All I did was tackle too high
and get sinbinned for it.”
“Is that all you did, though?” she objected. “I realize I
don’t entirely know what I’m looking at. But it seems to me you’ve been
tackling more. Passing the ball more instead of just running with it, too. Making
better decisions. All those things you’ve been working on. So you made a
mistake. Why can’t you admit that to the guys and keep working at it? Were you
expecting to be perfect as soon as you started trying? And it’s not like it’s
knocked you out of the playoffs, is it? You’re still in the quarterfinals next
week, right?”
“Right,” he said reluctantly. “The Stormers, in Capetown. A
longer trip than if we’d won, which’ll make it tougher.”
“And does one mistake by one player—or one good play by one
player—win or lose the game anyway?” Kate continued. “You said the whole team
wasn’t playing as well as usual. Was yours the only mistake? It seemed like I
saw a lot of missed kicks in there too.”
“Nah,” he admitted. “We were a bit off pace last night, like
I said.”
“So it wasn’t just you. And we’ve established that it wasn’t
the end of the world. Just one mistake. All right, then. Our ice cream is
melting. What do you want to do here? Want me to drop you off at home after
this? Or should I come over so we can cook that nasty, fresh-caught fish that
you aren’t in the mood for? What’s going to make you feel better?”
He perked up a bit. “Well, if you really want to make me
feel better, I can think of a few things we could try.”
“You’re kidding.” She stared at him. “As grouchy as you’ve
been? How can you possibly be interested?”
“Is this a trick question? Or do you really not know the
answer to that?”
“So you want me to come over. Got it.” She began to push the
trolley again.
“Oh, no. It’s going to take more than that,” he decided, his
mood improving by the second as he took the trolley from her. “It’s going to
have to be something pretty special.”
She looked at him suspiciously. “Just how special?”
He glanced around. “Manuka honey,” he decided, pulling it
off the shelf. “Medicinal, eh. Let’s see how it works.”
“What exactly are we talking about here?” she demanded.
“I would’ve thought it was obvious. But I know how you like
me to tell you exactly what I want. What I’m planning to do.”
He leaned over and murmured in her ear. “I’m going to make
you lie still. Then I’m going to spread it on you. Going to take some extra
time with my favorite bits. And then I’m going to lick it all off. Very, very
slowly. Because I need to hear you scream again.”
He felt her body swaying towards him. “Hmph. I don’t like
Manuka honey, though.” Her attempt at unconcern was falling a little short, but
he could tell she was giving it her best effort. “What about me?”
“Reckon you’ll have to choose something of your own, then, if
you want to participate in this exercise,” he said, a slow grin spreading over
his face. “Looks like this is going to be my lucky night after all.”
“Here.” He grabbed a bottle of maple syrup and tossed it in
the trolley. “American. Just for you.”
“That’s Canadian,” she objected.
“Close enough. Let’s go.”
“Oh. That’s so cold. And sticky.” She jumped as he carefully
poured the first drops of the amber liquid onto one nipple.
“I’m very thorough, though,” he promised, as he spread the
honey lovingly with his fingers. “I think I can promise not to leave any of it
on you. Or in you. If I miss any, you can tell me. And I’ll start over.”
“See if this is any warmer,” he suggested as he bent to take
her nipple into his mouth. She felt his tongue and teeth scrape over her and
arched towards him with a moan.
“Break,” she gasped, long minutes later. “I’m melting here. And
you aren’t giving me a chance to play. Where’s my maple syrup?”
“Hmmm. There are a lot of calories in this,” she taunted him
as she used her hands to smear his body with the dark stuff. She painted his
chest first, worked on him there, then moved down to outline the perfect
definition of his abdomen. Looked up at him, her mouth curving into a
mischievous smile as her hands finally moved lower, and she spread the liquid
carefully over him.
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind about licking all this off you,”
she mused, her small hands still busy. “About taking my time so I don’t miss
any spots. Especially down here. You wouldn’t want me to get fat. You’ve been
good enough to mention your concern.”
He groaned. “You can go on a diet tomorrow. Come on, baby.
Lick it off me now.”
“Be sure you get it all,” he moaned as his hands fisted in
her hair. “Oh, my God. I think I’m dying.”
“Mmm. Missed a spot up here,” she told him at last, moving
up his body, sliding over him as she went, the honey that still clung to her
mingling with the syrup to create a sweet, sticky mess that added its own
friction.
“Best part,” he groaned as she slowly sank onto him and
began to move. His eyes locked onto hers as he reached for her, began to touch
her, watched her arch her back and gasp in response. “Watching you come.
Feeling it all around me. Come on, now. Show me.”
“That’s it. That’s so good,” he crooned as she gave in to
the pleasure. “You’re so beautiful. Do it again, baby. Show me what you can
do.”
“Koti. Stop,” she gasped at last. “I can’t, any more.”
He rolled her to her back, bent his head to kiss her. “But
you do it so well. I could watch that again and again. Or I could just do this.
Because it feels so good inside you.”
He began to move again, slowly at first. Watched her respond
to him and increased the tempo. Harder and faster, giving her more, pushing her
higher again until, finally, she began to cry out. This time, as she went over
the top, he rode with her, through a peak that seemed to last forever, and down
the other side.
“That was at once the most ridiculous and the most exciting
thing I’ve ever done,” she decided as they washed each other clean in the
shower. “Not to mention creating a whole lot of laundry.”
“You didn’t seem to think it was so ridiculous while we were
doing it,” he pointed out, addressing a particularly sticky patch with a
diligence that had her leaning against the wall of the shower with a moan.
“Face it. You’re a bad, bad girl. You just don’t know it yet. Baby steps.”
“If that was a baby step, don’t tell me what the next one
is,” she told him, doing a little soaping of her own. “I’m not sure my heart
can take it.”
“Thought I’d already mentioned a few things from time to
time. Things we haven’t done yet.”
“You weren’t serious about that. Were you?” she asked
doubtfully. “This is getting awfully kinky.”
He smiled. “You’re such a baby. We haven’t done anything
kinky yet. We’re just getting started.” He bent to kiss her as the water beat
down on them. “Haven’t even tied you down yet, have I,” he murmured in her ear.
She stepped back, eyes wide. “You wouldn’t do that, would
you?”
“Oh yeh, I would. Only if you want to play. But I’m thinking
you will. We’ll save that for a special occasion, though. After a fight, I’m
thinking, when we’re both still heated up. And when we have hours to spend.
Because once I have you like that, I’m going to want to keep you there for a
while.”
He ran soapy hands over her, felt her lean into him in
response. “Just now, though,” he decided, lifting her into his arms, pulling
her legs around his waist, “I’m hungry, and I need my tea. So I reckon we’ll go
back to an old favorite. Hard against the wall. That works pretty well for me
too.”
“Just don’t tell my mother what I’m letting you do to me,”
she moaned, wrapping herself more tightly around him.
“No worries. Nobody’s business but ours what we do. I won’t
tell your mum, and you won’t tell mine.”
“What do we do?” Kate wailed along with the baby. Their
babysitting job had started off so well. She’d managed to change Jack without
too much trouble, and he’d taken his bottle like a champ. So what was he crying
about now? She was beginning to panic.
“What does he want? Is he sick? How could he have got sick
so fast? They haven’t even been gone an hour. Should I call Hannah?”
The baby in her arms took the opportunity to cry even
louder. “Oh no,” Kate moaned. “I said her name. I didn’t realize that would
upset him more.”
Koti laughed. “Give him to me. The more upset you get, the
more you wind him up. Come on,” he coaxed. “Let me have him.”
He laid little Jack down carefully on the oversized couch
next to Kate and pulled off the crumpled receiving blanket that had twisted
around him.
“They like to be wrapped up tight,” he explained. “Comforting.
Like being inside mum, eh.”
Kate watched as he swaddled the baby, tucking the final
corner in with a practiced hand. “How do you know?”
“Do you imagine any of my sisters would’ve missed the
opportunity to lecture me on baby care?” He lifted Jack, already slightly less
hysterical, and settled him snugly against one broad shoulder.
“Probably not,” she said. “He’s still crying, though.”
“Not for long,” Koti told her confidently. He stood up and
began to walk, one firm hand cradling the little figure while the other
supported his head.
“How many times are you going to do that?” she asked as he
made his fourth or fifth circuit of the lounge, dining room, and kitchen.
“Till he stops crying, of course. Lucky this is a big house.
This gets a lot more boring when you can only take ten steps in each direction.”
Gradually, the baby quieted, his wails dying down to
hiccupping sobs and then silence. “Not asleep yet,” Koti decided. “I’m not
risking it.” He sat down next to Kate, still holding Jack firmly against him.
“Let his parents worry about good sleep habits. I’m going to hold him for now.”
Kate lay back and fanned herself with her shirt. “I’m
exhausted. Whatever babysitters get paid, it isn’t enough.”
“Good thing you have me along, then,” he said smugly.
“All right, I admit it. I’d have been completely panicked
without you. I just never expected you to be good at this.”
“And that would be . . . why?”