Secrets In Sydney: Sydney Harbour Hospital: Tom's Redemption. Fiona Lowe

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СКАЧАТЬ mouth tweaked up in a half-smile. ‘That I knew. Not one single curl snagged my fingers.’ He breathed deeply as he ran strands of her hair across his face. ‘It smells like lime and coconut.’

      Her short laugh showed her embarrassment. ‘I have a bit of a thing for body lotions, perfumes and shampoo, but I also know that often patients are scared before surgery so I think I should smell nice for them.’

      He pressed his lips to her forehead. ‘I appreciate it.’

      A silly quiver of happiness shoved her embarrassment away.

      His palms cupped her cheeks and his thumbs met at the bridge of her nose. He stroked outwards with a delicious amount of pressure—not firm but not soft either— and she let his touch roll over her, stripping her muscles of all their tension as she sank into the mattress. She’d never been touched quite like this. It was an almost reverent exploration that put sighted lovers in the shade. His hands brushed her eyebrows and then outlined her closed eyes.

      Again Tom’s voice called her back. ‘Are they chestnut too?’

      She struggled to concentrate as his fingers sent rivers of relaxation washing through her. ‘What?’

      ‘Your eyebrows. Are they chestnut?’

      It seemed odd to be describing herself—almost vain—but she’d enjoyed watching Tom and studying him over the last ten days and this was his turn. ‘No, they’re darker and so are my eyelashes. With my brown eyes and long brown lashes my sister used to—’ She bit off the words. She didn’t want to think about Amy right now. This wasn’t the real world with all its pain and heartache. This was pure escapism.

      ‘Call you a Jersey cow?’

      She gasped in surprise. ‘How did you know?’

      He grinned. ‘Big brown eyes and long, thick lashes. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work that one out.’

      His thumbs continued to explore her face. ‘Your nose is cuter than a Jersey cow’s.’

      ‘Gee, thanks.’ She laughed half-indignantly and then reached out her hand, running it along the length of his very distinctive nose and lingering on the slight bump. ‘Mine hasn’t been broken.’

      ‘You probably grew up on the Northern Beaches.’ It was said without rancour, but it inferred that her childhood had been easier than his.

      She didn’t confirm her middle-class upbringing because she knew more than anyone that money didn’t protect a child from death or a family from loss. Instead, she let him capture her hand from his nose, place it by her side and then kiss her.

      Deep beyond her tiredness, her body stirred.

      The length of his body edged hers lightly, moving against it and then away with each breath he took. His hands brushed her chin and her neck, and then he stroked her collarbone with a feather-soft touch, lingering on the slightly raised area on the right-hand side. ‘The bike accident?’

      A delicious tingle spread around her body, demolishing the fatigue and waking her up in the most wonderful way. ‘Who knew my body was a road map of my life? There’s an appendix scar further down.’

      ‘Poor Hayley.’

      He kissed the spot where the bone had knitted, his tongue caressing her skin, and her legs twitched as the shimmers joined together into one wide river of glorious sensation. Then his hands reached her breasts and his touch became almost reverent. Cupping them, he took their weight and a deep line of concentration carved into his brow.

      She was instantly self-conscious, wondering what was wrong with her breasts. ‘What?’

      ‘They’re just as I imagined.’

      She didn’t understand. ‘But you’ve touched them before.’

      He smiled a knowing smile. ‘That was a mere brush of the hand, which to a blind man is nothing more than a passing glance. Now, this …’ his thumb stroked her nipple ‘… is really seeing them.’

      A hot arrow of longing darted straight down between her legs and her body jerked against his.

      This time he grinned widely. ‘If you like that, you might just enjoy this.’

      His mouth closed around the areola of her other breast while his thumb continued to brush the nipple. Her breasts tightened and her nipples puckered, desperately seeking more. Her breath hitched in her throat as showers of colour and ribbons of heat followed, making her head thrash against the pillow. She never wanted it to stop and her hands plunged into his hair in a combination of wanting to touch him and not wanting him to stop what he was doing.

      His wicked laugh rained down on her as he dawdled his tongue and his hands down her belly, stroking her, tasting her and branding her with his stubble until her body was quivering and slick with throbbing need for him.

      Her arms flailed out toward the bedside table and she managed to gasp, ‘Condoms.’

      He shook his head as his fingers reached the only thatch of hair on her body that was curly. ‘We’re not ready for that just yet.’

      She stared at his face as she tried hard to bring her eyes into focus. ‘We’re … not?’

      ‘No.’ His fingers sneaked slowly lower and lower with blissful intent, and then he slid one inside her. Then another.

      She gasped with delight and instantly tightened around his fingers before closing her eyes and joining the ride to oblivion. Nothing existed except the ever-increasing ball of sensation that he was building inside her with his talented hands.

      Suddenly, his fingers stopped and then withdrew.

      Shocked surprise and begging need snapped her eyes open, fast. ‘Don’t stop.’ She heard the desperation in her voice and didn’t care. ‘Please, don’t stop.’

      His face was wreathed in one enormous smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes, which now glowed with a light she’d never seen before. With his other hand he drew a lazy circle on her lower belly. ‘Just tell me, what’s the colour of the hair down here?’

      She heard words, but her completely melted brain frantically scrambled, trying to find some neurons that would still connect. It tried, but the colour eluded her. ‘You’re a shocking tease, Tom Jordan. Does it even matter?’

      ‘Yes. It completes my picture of you.’

      The tenderness in his words touched her and the permanent emptiness around her heart shrank a little. She pressed her hand against his chest and the almost black hair that rested there. ‘This colour.’

      ‘Beautiful.’

      He moved and she felt his hair lightly brush her belly and then his lips pressing kisses on her inner thigh before finding the perfect place.

      Deep within, her scream of need ignited and she cried out for him, wanting him to fill her, aching for his width, but then her body took over, riding the pounding waves of wonder, sweeping her higher and higher until the ball of bliss exploded, flinging her far beyond herself to a place she’d never been.

      When СКАЧАТЬ