Limerence (5 page)

I hang my head to one side, my face framed by my black hair, and I close my eyes and murmur his name, my lashes fanned on my face.

“Oliver.” I move on him, trying to find some friction whilst his hands cup and massage my breasts greedily.

He shifts his weight under me, lifting me from his lap in one easy movement, and lays me down on the sofa, his body taut and hovering above mine. He peers down into my face. He is so damn handsome, even more so when I can see the lust in his eyes, like now. His tongue darts across his lips as he finishes unbuttoning my blouse, and buries his face in my breasts, freeing one of them from my bra and taking it into his mouth.

I moan and hook my legs around his waist, pulling him down to meet me. My lips part and my mouth meets his again, our tongues clashing together, moving in their slow, seductive dance with each other. I run my nails up his back and he makes a low growling noise in appreciation. Lifting his top to his shoulders, I grip it and dash it off, throwing it to the floor.

I need him. Here. Now.

I can feel the heat building inside me as Oliver’s need for me grows, pushing up against the inside of my thigh. And then his body is on mine, our skin touching, a frisson of electricity shooting between us. Our kissing deepens when he moves one hand down to undo the button on his jeans.

The hardness of his muscles around me sends a shiver down me. He’s eyeing me hungrily, his pants slipping further down his thighs, and he toes them off with his foot.

“Ahem!” Rachael stomps into the room and Oliver slips ungracefully to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t mind me, lover boy. Just getting a drink,” she calls out, and pours herself some more wine. Her hair is clipped up away from her face, which is covered in a thick green goo.

“Rachael!” I protest, even as I laugh loudly. Sitting upright and buttoning my blouse back up, I feel my face go hot with embarrassment. Oliver gets up from the floor and scowls at her. His eyes widen at her appearance.

“Facemask,” she shrugs by way of explanation.

“I’m going for a bath, Mia.” He picks his beer up from beside the sofa. “I’m sure there’s enough room for you to join me, babe.” He raises an expectant eyebrow; the corner of his mouth turns up in a grin, and my insides twist in expectation.

“Erm, oh no you don’t, lover boy. There’s no way you’re doing the dirty in a bath I have to get in.” Rachael brings the bottle over to me and fills up my glass. “Besides, Mia and I were having a girly chat before you interrupted with your stink. Now go on, wash up.” Rach collapses next to me, shooing Oliver away with her hands.

He watches for a moment in exasperation, running a hand through his now even more unruly hair, and looks from me to Rachael with pleading eyes. I watch him hungrily, biting down on my lower lip in frustration.

Rachael laughs at our silent conversation. “Go on.”

“Aaaah, fine,” he grumbles, stalking off to the bathroom as we both burst into laughter.

I wake startled, like I have just jumped off the end of a cliff and woken up the split second before I hit the ground. My chest heaves whilst my heart tries to recover. My forehead is clammy and my hair clings to it as I scramble to remember what my dream was about, but there is blankness . I squeeze my eyes closed and think…

Nothing.

Just a heavy feeling of foreboding.

I’m tired and sleepy, but I don’t want to go straight back to sleep. Whatever it was that woke me has frightened me. Something menacing is lurking in my dreams, waiting for me to return to it. However, I’m tired—oh so tired. I yawn with a frown.

Rain beats down heavily on the windows. I feel acutely aware of every noise in the apartment, and my ears strain to hear anything out of place.

There’s nothing but Oliver snoring softly, though. His smooth, hard back is turned away from me. His breathing is settling, calming even. The constant
shhh
when the air leaves his lungs makes me sleepy as the feelings from the dream evaporate. I turn over, trace a finger up his shoulder, watching as goose bumps form, and then snuggle in to him for warmth. My breath is hot against his cool skin, my arms wrap around him, entwining my legs within his. I close my eyes, a sleepy smile on my lips.

The rain is relentless, tapping on the windows, the roof, and the walls. I feel it pounding, pounding the entire apartment… trying to get inside…trying to get to me.

Where did that come from?

My head begins to throb with the start of a migraine. I roll back over and look at the clock on the wall. It’s 3:32 a.m. I groan, rubbing my eyes, and shrink back down under the covers. My thoughts drift, but it’s no use, the feelings have dissipated, but the dream has left my head throbbing.

The storm outside is insistent, banging furiously on the windowpane, making my head hurt worse. Even Oliver’s warmth cannot lull me back to sleep.

I let my mind wander to the week ahead of me. There’s a class first thing, and then a meeting at college tomorrow about the open evening coming up. I have to help my year two students put portfolios together for some grade work.

There’s the painting for the reception to be working on, and class assignments are starting. I remember Oliver and I are supposed to be going for drinks with some of my new colleagues after work on Friday, as well as going out on Saturday with my sister and her boyfriend. I briefly wonder whether Oliver will make it to either of these events, or if he will be working the weekends over on the Island to get the job finished sooner.

Mr Breckt is a strange one. My thoughts return to him.
I sigh. He’s so confident and sure of himself. I can’t help but hope that it had just been a one-off meeting with him yesterday, but something tugs at me. I have a feeling I’m going to run into him again at some point.

This job should take three months maximum. It’s going to be a long three months, and then what? Will he stick around for a long time? Will he be coming over to the main land, or staying over on the Island? What the hell is he even here for, anyway?
I see his handsome face, the way he smiled at me, and his eyes, so green…

Mr Breckt’s eyes!

That’s what my dream had in it. Eyes—his eyes. My heart jumps to my throat when I picture his face. His lips touching my hand, and the way he had looked up at me through his dark lashes as he kissed the back of it. His mouth so cool and soft. How I want those lips on mine…

I cut the thought off before it goes any further.
Great, so now I’m dreaming about him.
Why had I felt so scared in the dream though?

My brain bangs angrily inside my skull for some relief before I can think about it any more. I look over at the clock—4:12 a.m. I give up and get out of bed. Insomnia has always played a large part in my life, but for the past two years, since meeting Oliver, it has subsided. After years of struggling to sleep, I was finally sleeping. Until now—until him.

I tiptoe down the hall to the kitchen, the wooden floorboards cool beneath my feet, passing Rachael’s closed door on the way. I set the kettle to boil and fetch a mug from the shelf and grab some painkillers. I swallow them eagerly and wait for the water to boil.

I stand by the main window, looking out over the view below me. Everything seems bleak—ominous even, and I shiver as I press my forehead to the windowpane. The coolness from the glass relieves some of the tension in my head, whilst I trace the raindrops down the glass with my fingertips. I close my eyes for a moment as relief passes over, the migraine easing. When I open them, a movement from across the road catches my eye. Something flickers. I freeze and stare intently into the sea of dark rain, trying to find whatever it was, but I can’t see anything out there now.

I haven’t turned on any lights in the apartment, leaving me all but invisible to anything outside, yet I still feel exposed standing here in my nightshirt. I step back from the window, looking further up and down the road.

Whatever it was, it’s gone…
or hiding
.

A frown creases my brow.

Damn, what is wrong with me tonight? It was just a fox or something.

Or something!
My subconscious whispers to me.

It’s nothing
I tell myself firmly, hugging my arms about myself with a shiver.

The kettle has boiled and I make myself a green tea. I hate the taste of the stuff, but it’s the only thing that eases my head on nights like this. I settle down into my favourite armchair with my mug, wrapping the blanket around my legs to keep away the cold.

My mind whirls without consequence, never landing on a thought for long, but essentially keeping me wide awake. I rest my eyes behind my lids, waiting for my headache to subside, and it’s half an hour later when I take the last look at the clock on the wall. My headache is just a dull throb and I finally, mercifully, slip back into sleep.

*

A clink wakes me from my uncomfortable position. My neck is aching and stiff when I move and flex it from side to side. My legs are tingling from being curled under me for so long. I tentatively open my eyes; my migraine is gone, but I feel blinded by the sunlight that streams in through the window. I hear a noise behind me, and turn to see what it is.

It’s Rachael doing her very best at trying to be quiet; not such an easy job for her. She looks up when I stand.

“Morning, honey.” She sets about fixing me a coffee. “You okay? You not sleeping again?” She doesn’t look up from her task, but her concern is evident in her tone.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I just woke with a migraine. Think it was just that stupid storm last night, probably the changing of the weather affecting me.” I take a seat opposite her at the breakfast bar. “I feel okay now though.” I reach for the coffee she hands me, and breathe it in. I wish I could drink it down straight away, but it’s too hot.

“So what’s the plan for today?” she asks.

“I have a class this morning, meetings this afternoon. Then another class this afternoon—the second year students need to sort out portfolios, the usual.” I laugh weakly at my busy schedule. “Oh I meant to say we’re supposed to be meeting for drinks on Friday in the pub if you fancy it?”

I try the coffee and wince when it burns my tongue. “I know you normally hate this sort of thing but all the new teachers are going as well, and I can tell you for definite that the hot new sociology teacher will be there.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her.

“What hot new teacher?” Oliver wraps his arms around me. “One day back at college, and already you’re looking to trade me in, eh?” he teases. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

Rachael looks at Oliver scornfully. “It’s not for her, lover boy; now roll your tongue back up. It’s for me.” She gives me her undivided attention. “So, how hot are we talking about, exactly? And on whose good authority do I have this promise?” She jumps up onto the kitchen counter and lets her legs swing in the air.

“Well, Mary-Lou says that…”

“The college secretary, Mary-Lou? You know I can’t stand that woman. Urghhh. I bet she’s already snapped him up. The desperate old trollop!”

“Rach she’s forty—hardly an old trollop. Anyway, she told me she’s off men for the moment.” I like Mary-Lou, although you can’t do anything without her knowing about it first.

“Yeah, right.” Rachael jumps down from the counter.

I roll my eyes at her retreating back. “Well anyway, she says he is drop dead gorgeous, a real surfer-type guy, or something. You must come. You have to…please.”

“Maybe.” Rachael turns back and flashes me a quick smile, and continues to skip down the hall to her room.

I turn to Oliver who sits next to me on his stool, coffee in hand. There are dark circles under his eyes.

“So, I guess by the empty bed this morning that neither of us got a good night’s sleep?” he says.

“No, I woke with a headache. Nothing too serious, don’t panic, I’m fine. How are you? Are you worried about today?”

What a difference a day can make. Yesterday he was looking forward to getting back to work, and today . . . well, today he looks like he wants to crawl back under the duvet.

His hair falls in front of his eyes as he lowers his head. “I’m fine, just anxious to get started.” He looks into his coffee. “And finished,” he mumbles. “I’ve got a feeling it’s going to take longer than anticipated.”

We make our way back down to the bedroom and both begin to get ready for work. Oliver quickly jumps in the shower, and I brush my teeth.

I watch him in the shower through the foggy mirror; his silhouette is strong and enticing. My heart beats faster at just his mere presence. It shocks me sometimes how much I love him. Even after two years, it hasn’t waned. When I met him, it was as if all the parts of my life had finally fallen into place. I turn around to watch him as the mirror steams up more, and I feel teary.

I could have lost him yesterday,
I realise.

Any other man would have dumped their fiancée if she had reacted the way I did with Mr Breckt. Yet here is Oliver, understanding and perhaps even a little accepting as to the allure of another man. I hate myself for it.

I decide something. I will do what Oliver asks. I will stay away from Mr Breckt, and the Island. I will not jeopardise our relationship for… for what? For Mr Breckt? Is that what it is? A choice? Is there truly even a choice to make, when it comes down to it?

“You’ll catch flies standing there like that,” Oliver shouts to me, and turns off the shower.

I realise I’ve been staring, and I smile with a blush. “Sorry.” I turn and finish brushing my teeth. He steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his muscular waist.

“I love you so much, Mia. You can’t possibly understand what you mean to me.” He turns me back round to face him, his wet hands on either side of my face. He brushes the hair off my shoulders, and strokes down my back. Oliver closes his eyes and kisses my forehead. When he opens them, they seem full of sorrow and loss.

“I love you too, baby. Always.” I smile, trying to reassure him, and he smiles back, but I notice it doesn’t reach his beautiful brown eyes. I am lost for what to say to him to make him feel better.

I slip the towel from around his waist, hoping I can show him how much he means to me
.
I press his warm, wet body to mine, and I run a hand down his sculptured chest.

Oliver’s eyes flare, a sexy grin lifting the corners of his mouth. He lifts me up on to the bathroom side, and I giggle as I nearly slip into the sink. I can’t think of a better way to start the day, I smile and kiss him, letting his tongue into my mouth.

I moan as his hands push up my top and kisses my breasts. He lifts me up just enough to slip my bed shorts and underwear down my legs, and then slips himself between my thighs and presses himself into me. I moan, kissing his neck while his hands grip my arse and hold me tight as he rocks into me slowly. My kisses trail up from his neck to his lips, and his thrusts deepen as I dig my nails into his firm back, gasping as his momentum speeds up. Heat unfurls in my belly and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer until his thrusts are short and fast, and I am panting for more.

I watch his face, his eyes washing over my body, one hand now on my backside, the other pulling gently on my nipple. He licks his tongue across his lower lip and groans loudly as pounds into me harder and I gasp from the pleasure of it—from him.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his again as he reaches his finish, his hands twisting into my long hair and holding me against him. he looks at me breathless.

“I could get used to mornings like this.” He grins.