Page 41 of Journey to You

“Gotcha.”

She pummelled harder and he laughed louder as he jogged the last few metres to her hut. When they reached the front door, he deliberately slid her down nice and slow, her body rubbing against his.

This was pure and utter madness.

So much for taking things slow.

Every moment he spent in Tam’s company he found it harder to resist her, harder not to say caution be damned and sweep her into his arms and make slow, passionate love to her all night long.

Thoughts of her consumed him every waking moment and most sleeping ones too and now, with her standing less than a foot away, her tie-dyed kaftan plastered to her curvy body, he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

He wanted to do the right thing and give her time to adjust to their new relationship, but his knight in shining armour routine had taken a serious beating since he’d arrived on her doorstep earlier that week and she’d welcomed him with open arms.

“So?”

“So…” his gaze dipped, from her orange, green, and blue spattered face and her purple matted hair, to her technicolour kaftan.

Despite the mess, she’d never looked so beautiful, and he clenched his hands to stop from grabbing her and never letting go.

“Time to clean up.” She grinned. “Though some of us need more cleaning than others.” She pointed to his irredeemable T-shirt. “Not only can some of us not throw, we’re not too good at dodging too.”

He laughed and made a grab for her, and they tumbled through the doorway, drenched to the skin. “You look like a preschooler’s finger-painting.”

“You look worse.”

They stared at each other and laughed again, as Tamara clutched her side. “I’m sore.”

“From taking my direct hits full on?”

“More like from dodging your average throws.”

He pointed to her powder-spattered kaftan. “Then how do you explain all that colour?”

She shrugged, put a thumb up to her nose, and waggled her fingers. “Other people.”

He advanced towards her. “Are you saying my aim is lousy yet again?”

She smiled. “Oh yeah. Though you might’ve landed a few lucky shots. Beginners luck.”

“Beginner, huh?” He continued to advance, his mouth twitching, his eyes filled with devilry and she backed up, stumbling into the bathroom. “Are you going to admit I’m good?”

Ethan halted less than two feet in front of Tamara, close enough to feel his radiant heat, not close enough according to her body straining towards him.

Loving their sparring, she tilted her chin up and tossed her bedraggled hair over a shoulder. “Never.”

“Never’s a long time, sweetheart.” His hand shot out and captured her wrist. He tugged her closer and she laughed when their bodies made a strange, squelching sound as they came into contact. “Ready to concede?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, spraying them with the finest purple droplets, like sparkling amethysts raining from a jewelled sky.

“I might have to make you.” Ethan’s eyes glittered with pure devilry as he brushed his mouth across hers in a slow, masterful kiss that had her clinging to his wet T-shirt. “Concede?”

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, still tingling from his kiss. “I think I need more convincing.”

He growled, swept her up in his arms, and deposited her on the hand basin, the hard, cold enamel barely registering as he swooped in for another kiss, a fiery, passionate explosion of melding mouths that heated her from the inside out and would’ve dried her clothes if they’d continued.

But she stopped, uncurled her fingers from where they clung to his T-shirt, all too aware of where this would lead.

“What’s wrong?”

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