Page 86 of Possession Under the Southern Stars

My hips are moving faster, and Hallie says, “Oh God, yes, harder,” and so I thrust deep into her, pushing us both towarda climax with effortless ease. I can feel my body wanting to give in, craving that ultimate fulfillment, and it takes every ounce of strength and willpower I possess to keep it at bay, to wait for her to come first. I don’t have long to wait; her cheeks flush, her eyes close, and she sucks her bottom lip, which tells me she’s focusing on the point where her muscles are starting to tighten… and her breaths are coming in ragged gasps… and then she screws up her eyes and nose and squeals as she comes, clenching around me with numerous hard pulses.

No way am I going to survive that, and I give in and let myself come, heat rushing up from my balls, which contract as they squeeze out every last drop inside her.

We finish together, our chests heaving, and look into each other’s eyes, our bodies locked together for a moment. She looks fantastic, sprawled beneath me, red-faced and with hair mussed.

I kiss her, thinking about how so much of my life is about keeping and staying in control. How I fight against losing it, hanging onto it with my fingernails. And how magnificent sex is because it’s the one moment I can let go, forget I’m a complicated human being, and justbe, and give in to my physical urges with abandonment.

“That was amazing,” she says, trying to draw air into her lungs, and I laugh and kiss her again, conscious of how wet and sticky we are at the point where we’re still joined. I came inside her without barriers, an act so primal it makes me shiver. Early man, lying with his woman in front of the fire a million years ago after having sex would have been feeling exactly how I’m feeling right now. It connects me to him, as if his DNA is stirring inside me, as if he’s reaching across the millennia, and my head spins at the thought of how little has really changed in all that time.

Jesus. I really shouldn’t have had that beer on an empty stomach.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hallie

Out in the kitchen, Fraser directs me to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar and watch him as he cooks dinner.

Wearing nothing but his T-shirt and my underwear, I perch there, resting my chin on my hands, and enjoy the view of him in his boxer-briefs, pan-searing the salmon. He’s already put the potatoes in the oven, and by the time the salmon is done, the cheese has melted on the smashed potatoes, and it’s all ready to serve.

I love that he can cook, and I love this apartment. It’s big and filled with light, and so different from my own cramped, dingy flat. The view across the harbor is fantastic, too.

“I wonder how Joel and Zoe are getting on,” I say as Fraser slides a spatula beneath each piece of salmon and lifts them onto the plates. “I haven’t heard from her for a while. I think she’s… otherwise engaged.”

He laughs, turning to collect the tray of smashed potatoes, which he then adds to the plates. “I’m sure Joel will have done his best to convince her to give him a chance. He’s pretty crazy about her.”

“I wonder if they’ve found the Mair Necklace?” I’m referring to an artifact that legend says went down with a ship carrying opals back from Australia.

“I thought we might have heard from them if they had,” he says. He tips a bowl containing orange segments, avocado, and almonds on top of the baby salad greens, then adds a few tablespoons of a dressing from a jug and tosses it together. “Come on, I’ve worked up an appetite, and I’m starving.”

I chuckle and pick up the salad as he carries the plates to the dining table. He’s already taken the glasses and wine bottlethere, and after placing the plates on the mats, he opens the bottle and pours us both a glass.

We sit and start to eat while we chat about the ship—the Relentless—that Joel and Zoe are investigating. We continue talking about other ships of the period and move on to maritime archaeology, discussing major finds in New Zealand, as well as in the rest of the world. Fraser is so easy to talk to. I never feel as if I have to excavate beneath his words to discover what he’s really trying to say the way I did with Ian. Part of me had worried that he’d asked me over to talk about our relationship, and to tell me he couldn’t see me anymore, but that certainly hasn’t seemed the case so far.

After we finish our mains, he grills a tray of peaches and serves them with honey and mascarpone cream. We decide to take them into the living room, and we sit on the sofa, Fraser with his bare feet propped on the coffee table, me curled up beside him, and choose a movie to watch while we eat the sweet fruit.

It’s easy to do this. To nibble the peaches and suck the cream off the spoon, to drink the crisp, cool wine, and to sit with Fraser and justbe. I feel no need to keep making conversation, to behave a particular way, or to try to impress him. I’ve known him for long enough that I’m sure he knows my many faults anyway. Instead, I enjoy being close to him, kissing him occasionally, discussing the movie, and just relaxing.

It’s been so long since I did this with a man. I hadn’t realized how toxic my relationship with Ian had become. We created an elaborate maze for ourselves over the years where every sentence, every gesture led to a complicated choice of response, and one wrong turn could easily lead to hurt feelings, an argument, and a ruined evening.

It makes me think then of my promise to myself that I needed to spend time alone to heal, and that in turn reminds methat Fraser and I can’t have our happily ever after until we solve the issue that we’re not just colleagues, but that he’s my boss.

Will the quest that Whina gave me help toward that? I’m not sure. If I’m lucky, it might change his stars, but it’s not going to alter my past.

“That wasn’t bad,” Fraser says, and I realize the movie has finished. I check my watch; it’s nearly nine thirty. The sun has set, and the first stars are twinkling in the night sky. I really should make a move, as I don’t like being out alone in the dark.

But Fraser draws me toward him for a kiss, then stretches out on the sofa, pulling me on top of him. I give in and let him kiss me, enjoying the play of his lips across mine, and the way his hands wander over my body, first above the T-shirt, then beneath it. His hands are warm on my skin, and he uses just enough pressure to stop it being ticklish while being light enough to arouse me.

I lift my head and look at him, into his beautiful blue eyes that are now midnight blue in the semi-darkness, like the sky outside. “I should go,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Stay.”

“Fraser…”

“Stay,” he says again, more firmly this time.

“I didn’t bring anything.”

“You can use my toothbrush.” He starts kissing down my neck.

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