“Jesus, Miri. You’re driving me crazy,” he growled.
Power shot through her at his restrained desperation. “Take it off.”
He stripped the T-shirt off and threw it on the floor and then pulled her closer as he kissed her again. She teased his nipples with her fingertips, circling them, wanting to taste them. With other men she’d always been uncertain, but not with Jeremy. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
She pushed him back and bent to suck one of his nipples.
His head tilted backwards, his eyes closed as he surrendered to her. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to be naked with him. She leaned back and his eyes flashed open, dark and deep.
“My turn.”
Pleasure shot to her core as he pressed against her, his lips ravishing hers. He fumbled for the bottom of her knee-length dress and swore under his breath. The desperation in it made her laugh. “Let me.”
She drew her dress over her head and dropped it on the floor. If the evening was cool, she didn’t notice.
He sucked in a breath. “Does it hurt?” His fingers softly traced the light purple bruising on her chest.
“No.” It was impossible to feel pain when each brush of his fingertips sent a warm thrill through her.
“Good.” His eyes darkened and he cupped her breasts, his thumbs gently circling them the same way as they’d done the back of her hand. Every nerve ending celebrated and demanded more.
“You’re so fucking perfect.” With deft hands, he flicked her bra open and slid it off. Before she had a chance to consider being half naked, his mouth was on her breast, kissing and sucking.
“Oh, my.”
His chuckle tickled her skin as he continued to taste her as if she was a dessert to be savoured.
Her body throbbed, heat pooling between her legs. She wanted more. So much more. “Jeremy,” she gasped.
He lifted his head, his gaze wicked. “Yes?”
“Bedroom.”
He picked her up and she shrieked, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her down the hall. She kissed his neck, nibbled below his ear and his hands squeezed her butt, pulling her even closer, rubbing his length against her.
Yes, please.
He kicked the door shut behind them and lowered them both to the bed. She squeezed his butt, loving the lush hardness of it, but his jeans were too thick. She reached between them to find the button as his teeth grazed her neck and she forgot what she was doing.
“You taste so sweet,” he murmured.
The slight ache of her muscles was nothing compared with the aching need inside her and she resumed her attempts to get rid of his jeans. With another kiss he rolled away and shucked his jeans off and he was gloriously naked and erect.
Wow.
He moved, getting something out of the drawer next to his bed and when he turned back, she slid down his body and took him into her mouth.
“Fu…” His words died as she sucked him harder and he gripped the sheets, the muscles in his arms tight.
She teased him, licking and sucking before he sat up and dragged her up his body, rolling her so quickly she barely had time to register it. He kissed her hard, and she could taste his desperation.
Then he was gone, sliding down her body and tearing down her leggings. She gasped as his tongue touched her core and every thought left her brain. He teased her, caressing and tasting, using his fingers, his tongue. She writhed. “Jeremy, please. Now.”
She needed him inside of her.
His gaze didn’t leave hers as he reached for the condom and slid it on.
Then he lowered his body to hers, kissing her again, his cock nudging her entrance. “Ready?”
The care in his expression made her heart sing. This man was special.
“Yes.” She widened her legs and as he kissed her deeply, he slid in and she moaned.
Finally.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper and he complied, thrusting into her.
Every nerve ending sang as he moved, building the pleasure as he went. She couldn’t take any more. She arched her back as her climax hit her. “Jeremy!”
***
Jeremy’s legs were unsteady as he rolled off the bed to clean up. Not even in his wildest dreams had he expected Zamira to be a wildcat in bed.
He disposed of the condom and hurried back, finding her still lying on her back, her eyes closed, her short hair thoroughly messed, and a satisfied smirk on her face.
Aphrodite.
As he joined her on the bed, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Wow.”
He grinned, the one word causing more pleasure to course through his body. “I’ll say.” He pulled her closer to him, needing to touch her soft skin.
She shivered and moved in.
“Are you cold?” They were lying on top of the sheets, but he shifted, pushing the bedspread down under him so he could pull it back up.
“You made the bed.” She lifted her head to confirm and then raised an eyebrow at him.
Heat flushed his cheeks. “Ah, it was due.” He covered them both with the bedspread and she kissed him.
“Thank you.”
Her lips were addictive. When she pulled back, he cupped the back of her head and drew her closer, deepening the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her.
She moaned. “You’re insatiable.”
“With you.” He didn’t want her to leave.
Her fingers played with the silver pendant around her neck.
He plucked the pendant from her hands and examined it. Arabic letters were engraved on the front. “What does it say?”
“It translates as praise the God. It was a gift from my grandmother.”
“After what just happened, I’ll amen that.” He grinned. “Is it Islamic?”
She nodded.
“Is that your faith?” He’d never dated anyone religious before.
“Yes.” She screwed up her nose. “Though I’m not as strict as my father would like.”
“How strict is that?”
“Well I don’t wear a headscarf and I have had pre-marital sex.” She winked.
He grinned. “I can’t remember the last time I was in a church… maybe my aunt’s wedding when I was about twelve.” Religion wasn’t a sexy topic and if what Zamira said was true, they had only two nights together.
He would make the most of them. He peppered soft kisses over her face. “Since we’re friends, I have to tell you the camp bed is really uncomfortable.” He slid his hand down the curve of her waist, across to her butt. “But you know, there’s plenty of room in my bed.”
She grinned. “I can see.”
He fondled her breast, enjoying the way her nipple puckered. “It makes sense to share, don’t you think? That way both of us are comfortable.”
“You’re a generous man, Jeremy.” She squeezed his butt and desire stirred again. It had definitely been too long between drinks. “I’d love to share with you.”
“Good.” He rolled them so he was on top. “Now, where were we?”
Chapter 11
Jeremy lay awake in bed long after Zamira was fast asleep. He couldn’t stop looking at her, which would be completely creepy if she woke and caught him. But something about her had captured his attention so thoroughly he couldn’t help it.
He wanted to take care of her, protect her, help her any way he could.
And that was bad. She’d be gone in a few days. It didn’t matter that for the first time since he’d moved in, his house felt full and warm, more like a home than a roof over his head.
He couldn’t trust this kind of happiness. It could be too easily ripped from him.
He ran a hand over his beard. He wasn’t getting any sleep at this rate. He got up and took clothes out of his drawer. Then he closed the bedroom door behind him so he didn’t disturb Zamira and dressed in the living room. Fetch snored in his bed, the light and Jeremy’s presence not enough to wake him.
He needed something to k
eep his mind busy.
He flicked through some of his paperwork. No, it wouldn’t occupy his mind enough.
Grabbing his jacket and shoving his feet into his boots, he headed outside. The cold stung, drawing the heat from him. The clear sky revealed stars and the crescent moon. He jogged over to the shed, pulled back the doors and switched on the light. He inhaled the fresh timber and immediately his muscles relaxed. A bunch of cut pieces lying on his large work bench represented his office desk. He wandered over to his design, reviewed the shape. He hadn’t cared how it looked when he’d first designed it. He planned to spend as little time as possible at it, but now, having Zamira here made him rethink. If one day someone moved in permanently, then his office needed to be a place for him to store all his paperwork, designs and models. His current desk design was little more than a table.
Jeremy dragged a chair over to his work bench and sat down with the design, sketching in some drawers and a desktop paperwork sorter. He’d need shelving to store his models, so he drew a rough plan of what he wanted. He’d take exact measurements later.
Now he had a complete office plan. He huffed. Too optimistic as usual, thinking he’d need an actual office, but it would give him something to do now. The bits he’d already cut for the desk were still usable, he just needed to tweak bits to incorporate the drawers.
He got to work, finding the wood he needed and cutting it to size, the buzz of his table saw whining in the night.
The joy of being so far from his neighbours was no one complained when he worked all hours of the night as he often did.
He cut the sides of the two drawers. He’d dovetail these and cut a groove for the base to go in. He’d need to go to the hardware store to get the right sized ply. The pressure in his chest eased as he worked, replaced by the satisfaction of making something.
“Jeremy?”
He jumped and found Zamira standing at the door, her black hair sticking up at all sorts of angles. She was wearing her blue slacks and one of his woollen jumpers. So beautiful. His.
His heart leapt. “Sorry, was I making too much noise?”
She shook her head. “I woke and you weren’t there.” She rubbed her eyes and walked in, glancing at the wood stacked on the sides, the sawdust on the floor and his workbench. “What are you doing?”
“Working on my desk.”
“It’s midnight.” She gasped. “Is this what you should have been doing today rather than rescuing me?”
“No, I couldn’t sleep.” He walked over to her, secretly pleased she was concerned about his job. “Go back to bed. I won’t be long.”
She hesitated. “Can I see what you’re making?”
He clasped her hand and led her to his work table. “It’s a desk for my office, but I’ve made a few adjustments to it.” Actually, the desktop would be a little nicer if it was slightly curved. He found a pencil and made the change.
“These bits of wood will become that?”
He smiled at her disbelief. “Eventually.”
“Wow.” She wandered over to his shelves which contained myriad stains, polishes and varnishes as well as different bits of equipment and projects he’d made and not known what to do with. “Did you make all of this?”
“Yeah.”
She picked up a wooden clock and ran her fingers over it. “It’s lovely. What are you going to do with it all?”
He shrugged. “Give it away, I guess.”
She frowned. “You’re not going to sell it?”
“It’s just stuff I was playing with. What I made in my spare time.”
“It’s fantastic, Jeremy. You could sell this in one of the shops in town.”
Her praise warmed him. “That’s extra paperwork.” No one wanted his insomnia driven projects. “Why don’t we both go back to bed?”
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Nah, I’ve done what I can tonight and it’s cold.” He never noticed the temperature when he worked, but now he’d stopped, the cold seeped into his bones. He wrapped his arm around her waist, tossed his safety glasses on the bench and led her over to the door. “Let’s go.”
He wanted to make the most of the few days they had.
He wanted to be with her.
***
The next morning Jeremy woke to find Zamira snuggled into his side. He inhaled deeply, her hair tickling his nose and her minty scent making him smile. She snored softly. After the day she’d had yesterday, he wanted to let her sleep. His lungs constricted painfully at the thought of the crash. He could have lost her.
Christ, he needed to get his head read. He was latching onto Zamira already. Too many years alone had made him needy. Annoyed, he sneaked out of bed, taking one last look at Zamira, and then closed the door behind him.
His first stop today was to show Barbara the granny flat he’d designed. He’d cancelled yesterday and he couldn’t disappoint her two days in a row.
Fetch trotted to the corridor to greet him, already up and waiting for his breakfast. Jeremy opened the back door and then added food to Fetch’s bowl. He flicked on the kettle and studied his fridge. It was a bacon and eggs morning. Should he make enough for Zamira or let her sleep? He reached for the packet and then hesitated. He’d once read something about Muslims not eating certain meats.
Taking his tablet from where it was charging on the bench he did a quick search. Pork was forbidden.
If Zamira wasn’t a strict Muslim, did that mean she ate bacon? Better not risk it. The scent would permeate the kitchen and he didn’t want to put her off.
With a sigh he reached for the cereal packet instead.
“Morning.” Zamira’s words were sleepy and he turned to find her stretching, her T-shirt rising up and flashing her bare stomach.
Hot damn.
She yawned, placing a hand over her mouth and her hair was all dishevelled — definite sex hair. He grinned.
“Hey.” He pulled her close and kissed her. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Sore.” She stretched again and groaned, touching her chest.
Gently he pushed up her top, and discovered the bruises had darkened overnight. He winced. Had he made things worse? “Do you want some painkillers?”
“I’ll eat first.” She plucked the cereal packet out of his hand with a smile and grabbed a bowl.
“Cuppa?” He took down two mugs and the coffee.
“It depends. Do you have any decent coffee?”
He frowned. “How do you define decent?”
“Not instant swill.”
He held up the instant coffee jar. “So not this?”
She grimaced. “No. I’m from Melbourne, the coffee capital and instant is only one step up from dirty dishwater. Trust me.”
He’d never got into the coffee culture, made a thermos of coffee before he left home if he was going to be at a job site all day. He placed a tea bag in her cup. “So what constitutes good coffee?”
“Proper coffee beans for a start.” She got the milk out. “I’ll take plunger coffee if there’s nothing else on offer, but a good espresso is hard to beat.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” They took their bowls and mugs to the table. “What are you doing today?”
Zamira checked the time. “I want to follow the bus that takes the migrants to work, see if I can talk to Annisa again. What time do they normally leave?”
“In about half an hour.” He frowned. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“Agent Franklin suggested I buy Annisa a phone so she can call me if she has any problems. If I can find out where Annisa is working, I should be able to give it to her.”
He didn’t like the idea of her spying by herself.
“Where’s the best place I can buy a phone?”
“The supermarket.” Maybe he should take another day off work and go with her.
“What have you got planned?”
He rubbed his beard. “Well, I could come with you.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I don’t need baby-sitting, Jeremy. All I’m going to do is see which house Annisa gets dropped off at and then get her a phone. You’ve got better things to do. Didn’t you do that granny flat design yesterday?”
He nodded. She was right. “I’ve got a client meeting and I need to head into Albany for some supplies.” He squeezed her hand. “Be careful, all right? Text me after you’ve seen Annisa. I might be able to tell you who lives at the address.”
“I will.”
Checking the time, he got up, eating the rest of his cereal as he walked back to the kitchen. “I’ve got to get a move on. Call me if you need anything.” He put his bowl in the dishwasher. “I’ll take the truck today, so you can take the ute again.” He handed her some painkillers.
She kissed him. “Thanks.”
He smiled, resisting the urge to deepen the kiss and take her back to bed. He headed towards the hallway and then stopped and turned back to her. “Want to share a shower?”
She grinned. “Of course. I’m very environmentally responsible.” She joined him as he walked to the bathroom.
He could afford to be a little late this morning.
***
Zamira waved to Jeremy as he drove down the drive. Their shower together had been quick but energising, and now she had to focus. She’d parked the ute next to some peppermints so it couldn’t be seen from the road. Then she crept closer to watch Henk’s gate.
Her breath fogged in the cool morning and the thick clouds smothered most of the sun’s early morning rays. She hugged her jacket closer to her body.
Hopefully she wouldn’t have long to wait.
In the distance the growl of an engine started. That could be it. She waited, staring at the gate and as the engine grew louder, the gate slid open. It was still too dark to see who was inside the small bus, so she jogged back to the ute and waited until it had passed before she started the engine.
The advantage of it being such a dark morning was that she needed to use her headlights, so the bus driver shouldn’t be able to get a good look at the ute. He might not realise he was being followed.
The bus drove towards Blackbridge and then turned in the direction of the Vale winery.
SHELTER Page 12
