Take My Breath Away by Ali Ryecart
Chapter Twenty-Three
PERRY
“The views are amazing.” James stands on the crown of the hill we’ve just climbed up. Or, maybe I should say the hill he all but sprinted up as I staggered and huffed and puffed behind him.
Our long and leisurely pub lunch ended up turning into a quick sandwich because the bright sunshine and the buffeting wind were irresistible and we were both eager to get out and make the most of them.
James plants his fists on his hips. Looking out over the majestic scenery, he’s like a king surveying his kingdom. He’s as fresh as a daisy but all I’m interested in is laying on my back to stare up at the sky whilst I try to recover.
As James breathes in the natural beauty, I surreptitiously remove the chocolate bar I’ve hidden away in the deep pocket of my fleece jacket. He won’t hear the crinkle of the wrapper over the wind, and I might be able to eat it all before he’s had his fill of natural beauty. Maybe it’s a mean thought, but it’s chocolate so I don’t care.
I push myself to sitting and join James in looking out over the landscape. He’s right, it is amazing, but it’s not the only thing that is.
With his back to me, I suck on the chocolate so that it melts in my mouth. I know it’s a disgusting habit, but I still do it anyway, as I ogle James. I can’t help it. In his lycra running gear, clinging to every hard muscle, he’s even more mouthwatering than the chocolate melting on my tongue.
In a smooth move he slings his arms upwards and reaches high into the sky, but it’s the bend that follows, his arse sticking out and canting upwards as he stretches first one leg out in front of him, bending with smooth ease towards his foot, then swapping to the other. There’s a strangled whine I could try and tell myself is coming from a nearby upland animal, but I know it’s really from me. Strong but lithe, his muscles hard and defined but not bulky. He’s fit, in all senses of the word.
Fit, fabulous, and fuckable.
No—ooo… I can’t think like that, or there’s no way I’m going to get through the weekend without my strength being sapped as all my blood heads straight for my groin, and stubbornly refuses to go elsewhere. As quick as I can, I adjust the growing bulge under my tracksuit bottoms, pulling my hand free just in time as he turns around, the smile on his face broadening when he spots the chocolate bar I’m gripping onto for dear life.
“Tasty?” he says, peeling off his light runner’s jacket and dropping it to the ground.
“Ehhggg?” It’s all I’m capable of saying. I’ve long since stopped chewing — or sucking — on it, and it’s kind of broken in two under the pressure of my death grip. “Yes,” I rasp.
“Good, because it’s time to share.”
He flops down next to me and without a word plucks the chocolate from my hand and chomps down hard on it before giving me back what’s left with a broad wink.
Settling onto his back, James stretches his arms up above his head, holds the pose rigid for a few seconds before he relaxes and releases his muscles on a long, deep sigh.
“I’d forgotten what it sounded like. The countryside, I mean. Up here, you can’t hear anything other than the wind and the call of the odd bird. I’m loath to admit it, but it’s wonderful.”
He’s staring up into the bright blue sky, and I think he’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. Warmth spreads through me, and my heart leaps because he’s feeling this here, with me. This is a time and a memory that will always be ours, shared with nobody else. He must feel me looking at him because he turns his head and his deep green eyes lock onto mine.
“Wonderful. So, so wonderful.”
I can’t say a word, I can’t move. I can do nothing but stare into his glittering, bewitching eyes. He pushes himself up and edges in closer, placing his palms on my cheeks. Holding me with a gentle steadiness, his gaze roams over my face, drinking me in as though he’s seeing me for the first time.
I should ease his hands away. I should move back. I should shake my head, and say no. James is dangerous because if he takes a kiss, he’ll take my heart.
I should ease his hands away, I should move back, I should…
He tilts his head, eyes never leaving my face. They’re intent and serious, taking me in as though he’s committing me to memory.
“I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first time I set eyes on you,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes still searching my face. “Will you let me? Will you let me kiss you, Perry Buckland?”
He must see the answer in my eyes, as his lips lift into a gentle smile. All thoughts of easing his hands away and moving back scatter to the wind. My eyes drop to a close as my mouth softens and parts, my heart leaping and tumbling as his lips brush mine.
James’ kiss is gentle, almost shy and hesitant. It’s not what I expect from this confident and assured man, and somehow that gives me the courage to press for more. He reads me, just as he always seems to, and as one we deepen the kiss, the tangle of our tongues sending a shivery tingle dancing down my spine.
Whether I pull him, or he eases me down, we’re lying together on the rough grass, our bodies crushing against each other. His arousal’s a hard ridge against my hip and I rock into him, the tug on my cock deliciously painful. I scrub my fingers through his hair, cupping the back of his head in my hands, dragging him in closer, wanting to absorb him into me.
Wanting him in me.
The heat I feel for this man, the lust, desire and want, mixed with something softer, is a heady, intoxicating and irresistible brew. I rut hard against him, making it clear what I need.
We break the kiss, desperate for air. I gaze up into his face, the thrill of the kiss rushing through me. James is so close, the waft of his ragged breath rushing across my heated skin.
His pupils are dark, deep depths with only the suggestion of green at their outer edge. His hair’s messed and roughed up, his lips puffy and spit smeared, his face flushed. He’s so removed from the controlled, sleek man I know and a heady mix of excitement and pride surges through me, because it’s me who’s brought him to this.
Me.
He trails the backs of his fingers across my cheek.
“Chocolate,” he murmurs, his lips tilting into a lopsided smile. “Creamy, sweet, rich chocolate kisses, and totally irresistible.” He’s still smiling, still trailing his fingers across my cheek, still looking at me through dark, dazed eyes.
“Chocolate? It sounds like you’ve just snogged a Flake.”
His answering laugh is low, deep and rough, making my skin goosebump and my cock beg.
“But it’s not the chocolate that’s irresistible.” He shifts in closer, making my heart thunder. “It’s you, Perry. You, who could make a sinner of a saint, and a saint of a sinner.”
“Which are you?” I edge forward, so close we share the same breath.
James’ hand coils around the back of my neck, warm, strong, and sure. He doesn’t answer, but I don’t care because I don’t care about anything other than the dark and desperate kiss that—
Doesn’t come.
“Matilda. Blasted, silly animal.”
James lurches backwards, leaving the wide open sky above me, before it’s filled with the red-gold furry face of an Irish Setter, all lolling tongue and dog breath.
“Sorry about that. The silly thing’s just being friendly.”
The gruff voice belongs to a ruddy, wrinkled faced old man, just emerging from the brow of the hill.
“Oh, that’s okay.”
I don’t mean a word of it, because it’s not okay, not in any shape or form or in my wildest dreams. I push myself up to sitting, self-conscious and awkward as I tug my fleece down, wondering what the man, who I really want to shove back down the hill, might have seen.
I shoot a quick glance at James, who’s loose and relaxed as he leans back on his elbows, legs crossed at the ankles, his jacket laying across his groin. His hair’s been tamed and although there’s still a hint of red in his cheeks, it could be put down to the steady breeze. He gives me a quick wink before he focuses on the old man, who’s fussing over the dog.
“That’s a tough walk, all the way up here from the village,” James says, his voice friendly yet at the same time clipped and authoritative. The old man almost stands to attention.
“It certainly is. I come up here as much as I can, which isn’t that much anymore — the old legs aren’t what they were — but the view makes it worthwhile. Are you visiting the area for the potato festival next week?” He looks from James, to me, and back to James.
“Sorry…” I say, trying not to gawp.
Has he really just said there’s a potato festival…?
“It draws the crowds from all four corners of the county. It’s a celebration of all the traditional varieties. There’s a guess the weight of the potato competition, potato carving demonstrations, and stalls selling potato based products. The local radio station’s even going to be sending down a reporter.” I swear the old man stands straighter as his chest puffs out with potato filled pride.
“Sadly, no,” James says. “Had we known about it we’d have timed our visit better. We’re here for a short break, staying at a cottage owned by some friends in Rock Lane.”
The old man answers with an approving nod. “Rock Lane, yes, very quiet and away from the hubbub and bustle of the harbour area.”
I meet James’ eye, the slight raise of his brow forcing me to look away to hide the grin tugging at my lips. Hubbub and bustle are not words that can be used of Love’s Harbour.
Except, perhaps, for when the renowned potato festival is in full swing.
James and the old man start chatting, leaving me to gaze out over the village below.
It looks tiny, scattered like pieces of Lego on a green baize cloth. The village is protected by the harbour walls, but out to sea, the wind’s whipping up the waves, and I lose myself in the view and my thoughts.
I imagine I can still feel the press of James’ lips on mine, and the hard steel of his erection. He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and if the old man hadn’t appeared, then maybe, probably… I bring my knees to my chest and bury my face in my arms.
Maybe, probably, and all the complications that would bring. Complications for me, that is, because James likes to lead a very uncomplicated life.
I’m going to have to keep reminding myself that I’ve a new life to set up, down on the South coast. A new home, a new business, a new start. I can’t let complications get in the way. But with my face tucked into my arms, my eyes closed, and the heat of my breath a visceral reminder of the heat of James’ kiss and the lingering tingle dancing over my lips, that new life doesn’t seem quite so sharp and clear anymore.
“Perry? Ready to go?”
James’ voice drags my head up. He’s standing over me and looking down, a silhouette against the bright blue of the sky. The only sound is the wind, the gulls, and the beat of my heart. The man and his dog have gone.
He says nothing more, just holds out his hand for me to take. It’s warm and firm and he pulls me to my feet with ease. James doesn’t let go, and I make no attempt to slip free. Instead, I tighten my grip, holding fast as I let him lead me away, leaving the hilltop and all thoughts of complications behind.
