Page 72 of Lime Tree Hill

“Shit, seriously?” He leaned back in his seat, the keys still in his hand. “Don’t you ever…wonder about sex?”

“Of course.” She giggled, as she often did after a beer or two. “I’m not asexual, I’ve just never had the opportunity. That must sound strange to a guy like you, but not everyone’s out there doing it all the time.”

He grinned at her words. “But you’re still open to us sleeping together?”

Tayla nodded. “I won’t lie, I’m scared stiff of taking that step. I never had a boyfriend at school or uni. When I moved to Sydney, I went out all the time—quiz nights, speed dating. I still didn’t meet anyone I felt a connection with. When I finally met Hayden, I hadn’t been on a proper date in four years.”

“I don’t get it. Most guys would jump at the chance of dating you.”

She shot him a wry smile. “Maybe it’s the prissy stuck-up snob vibe that puts them off.”

Mitch threw his head back and laughed. “I still can’t believe I said that.”

Tayla loved the sound of his laugh. Warm and throaty and teasing in its message. “Is that an apology?”

He leaned across the cab and kissed her on the cheek. “No.”

32

ANTICIPATION

Driving home,Mitch tried to imagine a life sheltered from the usual teenage heartache and breakups. No necking in the back seat of a car, no fumbling with blouse buttons and jean zippers as sexual desire overtook all sense of reason. He’d had that, not as frequently as his friends thought, but his experiences had been rich and varied.

So how could he make the experience rich and varied for Tayla?

By the time they hit the highway, he’d devised a plan, the songs streaming from his phone in coincidental sync with his state of mind. The sun had set hours before, leaving the air frigid with the threat of a frost. When he drove past the orchard gate, Tayla shot him a sideways glance, then closed her eyes, her fingers tapping against one another in time to the music. She seemed to sense where they were going, as if their thoughts were somehow transcribed on the same page. That erotic narrative of a lovers’ dream.

Petrie Bay was deserted when Mitch pulled in beside the thicket of pines, close to the spot where they’d recited their vows. He cut the engine. She stared straight ahead, as did he until shespoke.

“Why are we here?” she whispered.

“You know why.” He tipped her chin with his finger and claimed her with a fragile kiss. She pulled back, understandably nervous. Shit, he was nervous for her—for himself. But he wanted her to experience the anticipation of wanting something so badly, she could hardly think straight.

She looked down, her hands fiddling with a button on her jacket. “I don’t want my first time to be in the back seat of your truck. That would be so wrong at my age.”

Mitch chuckled. “Duly noted. But a little necking while parked at a deserted beach on a winter’s night is a rite of passage all of us should experience, even if it’s only once.”

He jumped out and rounded the truck to open the door for her. Tayla took his offered hand, and as he helped her down, she pressed against him. When he opened the back door, she climbed inside without hesitation.

She turned, her hand reaching for his. And as he cradled her face in his other hand and kissed her, he willed himself to slow it down. To build that anticipation over days until she thought of nothing but him. What he’d do to her. How she’d respond.

They kissed again, cautiously at first, and then with fevered intensity as he cupped her breasts and squeezed with gentle pressure, making her nipples peak beneath the cashmere of her sweater.

“You’re a beautiful kisser,” Mitch whispered, his voice husky in the dark.

“Am I?”

He nuzzled her neck, gently sucking the delicate skin. “You kiss like you’ve kissed many men and picked the best technique.”

Tilting her head to one side, inviting him to continue, she murmured, “And you kiss like you know what you want and are determined to get it.”

Mitch pulled back. “Determination is a prerequisite to successin my book. I want us to be a success, even if you only rate my kissing technique as satisfactory.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” She giggled.

“No?” Weaving his hand through her hair, he inhaled the smell of lightly spritzed perfume and fruity shampoo. “I love that sound. You don’t often laugh. Why is that?”

“Is that how you see me? As solemn?”

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