Page 84 of Just Say (Hell) No
“Oh?” he said, amusement in his dark eyes and his voice at its silkiest, like he saw her bet and was raising it, sliding the chips across the table. “You were wearing those gray jeans and that top when you took those first photos of me. Tell me about how you’re not sexy when you’re not showing me that sweet spot down near your tailbone, and when you don’t have skin like that. It was one hell of an effort not putting my hand there when you walked through the door ahead of me.” He sighed, lifted the towel in his hand, and rubbed his hair dry, which had the effect of flexing his considerable biceps. And his shoulder muscles. Not to mention pulling his abs tight… Her mouth may have gone dry. V-shaped torso, anyone? “Fortunately,” he said, “I don’t have to hold back anymore. I can put my hand there and feel you shiver. And later on, I can put my mouth there. Anticipation, eh.”
“Groceries,” she reminded him, repressing the shiver that was trying to make its way out right now.
“Groceries,” he agreed blandly. “But if you’re going to look at me like that, I may need to plan something special for you.”
This time, shedidshiver, and he saw it. “I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “I was also going to tell you what Ella said. And your grandmother. And so forth.”
He approached the bed where she still sat, dropped the towel, got a knee on the mattress and a hand behind her head, leaned over her, and gave her a slow, deep kiss. After that, he stood up, gave her hip a slap, and said, “Come on, then. Groceries, and you can fill me in. Got to give me some time to plan anyway. We’ve never been on a date, now that I think of it.”
“Yeh,” she said, sliding off the bed andnotsinking her own teeth into one of those biceps, “because Tekapo’s such a nightlife hub. Cocktails and dancing, eh. Now, if we were in Northland, I could take you on a starlit ‘walk’ on the beach with a six-pack of beer. Party for two. No couch like a sand dune. No music like the sea when the surf’s up.”
“Except that it’s sandy,” he said. “And maybe I want you comfortable. Or maybe not so much. We’ll see. No worries, though. I think I can do better.”
He wouldn’t tell her, though, except that they were staying home for dinner. “Restaurants take too long,” he said, putting milk and eggs into the trolley. “Also—family time.”
“And that everybody in the place would want to talk to you.” They were having a rough time just getting out of the supermarket. One conversation after another, and Marko being patient, because, as Nyree knew, that was part of the All Black job. If you wore the jersey, you were expected to fill it up off the field, too. No surprise that Marko could do it.
Dinner was a cheerful affair, cooked by Ella and Caro and their grandmother, with the girls playing music, dancing around the kitchen and bumping hips, high on an emotional crisis overcome, and Mary shaking her head tolerantly. When they were eating, Marko said, “No music tonight for us, Mum, but we’ll be back for it tomorrow. Tonight, I’m taking Nyree out. Borrowing the ute.”
“We’re going high-end, are we?” Nyree asked.
“Nah,” Marko said, taking another bite of lamb stew. “We’re going where the roads aren’t paved.”
“No black tie, then,” she said.
“Call it ‘come as you are.’”
When they climbed into the battered farm vehicle, after Marko had sternly told the dogs to stay, causing two Border Collie hearts to break, Nyree said, “Seriously. Where?”
“Seriously,” he said, “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
The moon was nearly full again, an enormous white disk just breaking the horizon. They drove down to the lake, and then they drove around it. Ten minutes, twenty, until Marko turned off onto an unpaved track Nyree couldn’t see. Slowing down, then, bumping over the track, Marko picking out the road until he pulled to a stop at nowhere special. She said, “If we’re here to look at the stars… well, actually, that’s all right. Although they’re the same wherever you are. Like your grandmother said.”
Marko looked at her for a long moment in the faint light of the moon, then said, “You’re nervous.”
“Well,yes,I’m nervous. If you’re going to be this bloody mysterious, I’m going to be nervous.”
He leaned across the seat, took her chin in his hand, and kissed her, softly this time. “Good. I’m not going to scare you, just thrill you a bit, I hope, and thrill myself, too. But we need to get our skates on. This is a timed event.”
“Oh. OK. I guess.” By now, she was thoroughly confused, and not much less nervous.Whattimed event? Meteor showers, if that was what this was, didn’t come with to-the-minute timelines.
Marko didn’t say anything else, just dropped the keys onto the floor, reached behind the seat, and pulled out the blanket and sleeping bag from the night before. “Come on,” he said. “We may need to run a bit.”
They did. He held her hand, matched his pace to her slower one, and took her on another path known only to him, down one hill and up another, through the scrubby heathland. Once her eyes adjusted, there was light enough. That moon, and the blaze of starlight.
Finally, he stopped, said, “Here,” and started unfolding the blanket. Moving fast, now, so she caught the end and helped lay it flat. But once he had it on the ground, he said, “That’s the last you’re helping. Get that kit off and lie down. This is where the good part starts.”
Just like that, she’d lost her breath again. “Uh… cold?” she pointed out, pulling off her shoes and socks all the same.
“Never mind,” he said. “You won’t be. I promise. Time’s ticking. Get it off. Or I have a better idea.” He was out of his own jacket and shoes already, laying the jacket carefully onto one corner of the blanket. Now, he moved across to her, put both hands on her bum, and lifted her straight onto the middle of the blanket. And who knew that having your jacket unzipped one centimeter at a time, with a hard man staring into your eyes, could be that hot?
He pulled off his own T-shirt in one quick movement, tossed it to the ground, and she reached out a hand for him. He said, “Another night, baby, it’ll be your turn. But not tonight.” He was pulling her down onto the blanket, seeming not one bit bothered by the chilly night air, then sliding the jersey up her body and over her head before moving on to her jeans, pulling them straight off her together with her thong. “I want to take my time with this myself,” he said, “but that’ll have to wait.” His deft hands were flicking the clasp of her bra, and then he was kneeling over her, dressed only in his jeans, unfolding the sleeping bag and placing it at their feet, then checking his phone, reaching for his jacket, and pulling out a roll of… something.
“Like I said,” he told her, “timing. Which means I need to control all of this.”
“Uh…” she said. “Huh? Whatisthat? Also, I’m freezing.”
“Let’s wrap you up, then.” He started to unroll something. Tape. It was tape. “You can get out of this,” he told her. “If you pull. Or you can ask me. Or you can stay where I put you. Your choice. “
