“During dinner?”
“Of course. How good are you at foreplay?”
Elliott took a nervous swig of bottled water and looked away.
“Elliott?”
He shook his head.
“Are you okay?” Was his throat closing up again?
“I’m okay,” he choked out.
“Is foreplay not your forte?” Natalie moved across the rock so she was positioned in front of him. If they were going to be friends, she could put this all on the line. It might be nice to speak for all womankind, actually, and instruct at least one good man on the art of dating and sex. She tucked her pajama legs underneath her. “It should be easy. Women have many erogenous zones, and you can touch any of them—some during dinner, and then . . . Well, some you should wait until you’re naked.”
Elliott swallowed again.
She crossed her legs tighter against her body. “Do you need me to tell you where they are?”
“I could use a refresher,” his voice rasped.
“You’re not going to get this kind of help from the Colonel, you know.”
“Thank God.”
“Do you want the during-dinner ones first, or do you want to skip right ahead to the while-naked ones?”
“We’d better start with dinner.”
“Are you a pretty quick study?”
A wicked smile slowly turned the edges of his mouth. “I always ruined the curve.”
Now it was her turn to catch her breath. She gulped and finally got hold of herself. “All right then. Wrists.” She pointed. “Inside elbow.” Pointed again. “And behind the knee. You can touch those spots during dinner. Try one, and if she doesn’t pull away, feel free to try one more. Don’t go with more than two or you’ll seem desperate. Wrists are easy. You can gently stroke while you’re talking to her at dinner. Kind of like this.” She grabbed his hand and positioned it on the rock as if it were on a tabletop, then rubbed her thumb across it as she looked into his face. “See? You don’t even have to watch what you’re doing.”
He stared at her fingertips. “Women like that?”
“Some do. Erogenous zones are different for everyone. If that doesn’t get you far, you can try behind her knee, although this works best if you’re sitting side by side, like watching TV or something.” She scooted around so she was next to him and put her legs out in front of her. “Like this.” She grabbed his hand and pressed his fingertips into the back of her knee. This was one of her personal favorites that no man seemed to ever get, so she was pleased to share the knowledge. For womankind and all.
“Here?” Elliott pressed once, then stroked gently, then . . . mmm. Natalie had to force herself to move away as his strokes began sending tingles through all her nerve endings. He definitely got it.
She cleared her throat. “Mmm, okay. Very good. Then. There we go.” She moved farther away and took a couple of quick breaths. “Okay, then there’s kissing, too. With clothes on, you can still kiss those same places, like wrists again.” She held hers up. “Or back behind the ear, or along the back of the neck.” She moved her braid and pointed.
“Should I try that?” He was staring at her neck.
“Now?”
He nodded.
“On me?”
He nodded again.
She glanced up toward Becky’s house and was certain Becky couldn’t see them from here. And she wasn’t flirting, exactly. Was she? She wanted to be a good female friend. She didn’t want to lose her bet with Paige. She was just teaching, right? Certainly, if she’d wanted to flirt with him tonight, she wouldn’t have stayed in her toast pajamas. “Okay . . .”
Elliott turned toward her. Next thing she knew, he had his legs bent on either side of her and had her sitting between his knees. He gently moved her hair. She could feel his breath on her neck, right beneath her pajama collar, and she waited, holding her own, shivering a little in anticipation as he leaned closer.
“Here?” he mumbled.
He placed a delicious kiss at the slope of her shoulder, and a large shiver went straight into her scalp. Damn. Dr. Sherman had some kissing skills. “A little higher,” she choked out.
Another kiss followed the first, this one at the base of her neck. Goose bumps covered her arms and ran up to her neck, but she hoped he couldn’t see them in the dark.
“Here?” he mumbled again.
“A tad higher,” she managed to squeak.
A third kiss landed in just the right spot—her favorite spot—right at the hollow behind her ear. The kiss was warm, with just enough tongue to make it almost seem like a lick, and enough to send goose bumps all over her body and a pull into every sexual nerve ending she had. She couldn’t help but close her eyes and enjoy it this time, and she fought the moan that wanted to escape her throat.
“Good?” Elliott asked softly.
“Yes.” Her answer came out breathless and embarrassing, and Elliott rewarded her—or maybe punished her—with another kiss, right there, in the same spot: warm tongue, cold night, his fingers pushing her hair aside, his breath along her neck. Her shoulders came up this time in a reluctant shiver, and she pushed herself away abruptly, holding him at bay.
She was almost afraid to meet his eyes, completely afraid to address the sexual awareness between them, afraid that she’d initiated it but he’d felt it, too. But when she finally lifted her eyelashes, he looked completely guileless.
“Was that okay?” he asked.
Unable to speak momentarily, she simply bobbed her head.
He pulled back, looking at her expectantly, waiting for the next instruction.
She took a couple of deep breaths.
“Okay then,” she finally managed to say.
“What’s next?” he prompted.
“Yes, yes, of course. Maybe . . . um . . . maybe we should continue this tomorrow? How are the antihistamines working, by the way?”
“Perfect. I feel much better.”
“Good! Good. That’s really good.” She slid off the rock into the sage, rubbing her pajama arms against the wind that came up over the mountaintop. Or maybe against the goose bumps that still remained from Elliott’s skillful kisses. Or maybe against the awareness that she wanted him now. Whatever. All she knew was that she needed to get the hell out of there before she knocked him down right on the rock and kissed the living daylights out of him. If he could kiss good-night like he’d proven yesterday in front of the Colonel, and kiss her neck like he’d proven just now, she couldn’t imagine what other wonders he was capable of with that tongue.
“How about if we maybe do this tomorrow?” she asked. “I have to, um . . . get home and . . .”
Another shiver had her sprinting toward the carts. “I’ve got to go now, Elliott. I’m glad you feel better,” she yelled over her shoulder.
He followed behind her, thanked her as she started her ignition, and lifted his hand as she rolled down the driveway.
Natalie floored her cart to its full twenty miles per hour all the way down the mountainside.
Elliott hung his hands on his hips and watched Natalie power toward the first turn on the mountain, dust swirling around all four tires.
He didn’t know what, precisely, had just happened, or why she was running away, but he knew he was ready to break into a smile from ear to ear.
Because Natalie Grant had moaned.
Or hummed.
Or some kind of sound. Right beneath his lips. And it was positive. So positive, in fact, he’d kissed her again.
Of course, the second kiss was when she’d all but fled off the rock, but Elliott still considered it a positive sign. He’d made Natalie Grant moan.
Or hum.
Whatever.
The important point was that, whatever happened for the rest of his life, he’d always have that little moment of success
.
He’d probably dream about it for the rest of his livelong days, in fact.
As soon as she turned the corner, he ran a hand through his hair and glanced up at the stars. This night had turned out to be not as bad as he’d thought.
He hopped in his own cart and concentrated on keeping his itching eyes open for the rest of the drive home.
At the base of the mountain, just before his driveway, he felt his phone buzzing again, and he pulled his cart into his garage, almost knocking down a set of bicycles and golf clubs the owner kept along the side. He scrambled to get his phone out, hoping it would be Natalie.
“Hello?” he said eagerly.
“Elliott, it’s Becky.”
His chest fell.
“You can put this number into your phone if you’d like.” She gave a low, sultry laugh. “I was just calling to say I’m sorry again and hope you’re feeling better.”
“I am.” He got out of the cart, carefully sidestepping the golf clubs he almost just ran over.
“Well, if you’re feeling better, I was wondering if we could have a repeat date? This time it’s on me. I’ll be sure not to bring Chip, and I’ll wear something that hasn’t been near the dogs. We can go to my favorite Mexican food place right by the tourist dock—El Farolito? How about Saturday?”
Elliott stepped inside the house and flipped on the lights. He didn’t really want to do this. He didn’t need a repeat date with Becky. He’d rather work. Or be with Natalie. And then there was . . . Oh damn, the seniors’ fund-raiser Saturday.
“I have to work, Becky.”
“Nell said you work too much. Just take one Saturday off.”
“It’s not technically work. It’s a fund-raiser. But I go every month. It’s the Bars and Barks Event.”
“What’s the Bars and Barks Event?”
“It’s a bar event that the seniors put on at different bars each month to raise money for the sea lion center. It’s at the Shore Thing this month.”
“We could go together.”
He sighed. He didn’t want to go with Becky. He almost hoped he’d see Natalie there. But . . . well, what the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t seeing Natalie. Despite that delicious moment of kissing her neck on a mountaintop above the island, she was still on her mancation. Which she’d made clear to him multiple times.
He might as well go out with Becky again. It would give him a rare second date, probably make the evening go by faster, fulfill his obligation, and then he could tell Nell he was done with dating for a while. He needed to get back to work.
“Okay. We can go together.”
“We’ll just meet there,” Becky said. “So you don’t have to be near the dogs.”
“Sounds good.” Elliott wondered what the Colonel would have to say about not picking her up on a second date. “Around seven?”
“I’ll see you then.”
Elliott clicked off the phone and dragged himself into the bedroom to finish some of his notes.
And tried to think about the right woman.
CHAPTER 13
Natalie woke Saturday morning completely thrilled—no taking Lily to school. She’d slept in until eight, then shuffled her slippers into the front room, straightened her pajama top, and glanced up to see Lily already awake, eating Froot Loops at the dining table.
“Lily, sweetie, how did you—”
Blonde hair caught her eye to the right.
“Paige! What are you still doing here?”
“Thought I’d catch a different ferry out.”
“You’re staying?”
“I guess I’m having fun. I thought I’d stay one more night and go to Bars and Barks.” Paige put her own cereal bowl in the sink and started the coffeepot. “And, actually, I offered to come every weekend from now on while you’re watching Lily. Olivia and I agreed that you need weekends off. How did it go last night?”
Natalie smoothed her hair down and rummaged for a coffee cup. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I saw you leap off the love seat and grab something out of the cupboard and fly out of here. Whose rescue did you come to, and how did it go?”
Natalie didn’t know how much she wanted to admit to. She arranged her coffee cup, then dug back into the cupboard for a bowl. “I thought you were sleeping,” she said with as much innocence as she could muster. “Did you leave me some cereal?”
A slow smile slid across Paige’s face. “I thought so.”
“You thought what?”
“I thought it was a guy. Did I win the bet?”
“Paige, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I went to see a friend last night.”
“And was this friend a guy?”
Natalie slammed the cupboard and went to find a spoon. “If you must know, yes. But I’m not dating him. And you didn’t win the bet. He’s a friend.”
“I didn’t win yet.”
“Ever. You won’t win this one. I’m almost one week in now, and only two to go.”
“But that blush creeping across your cheeks tells me everything I need to know. And you’re not going to last two more weeks. Who is it?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“John-O?”
“No! And that’s all I’m saying.”
“Steve Stegner?”
“No!” she let slip. Paige was too good at egging her on.
“The new guy at the post office?”
“Paige, I’m not engaging with you anymore.”
“Tag? Oh, tell me it’s Tag! He’s really cute.”
“We’re not doing this.”
“It’s the sea lion man,” said Lily calmly as she continued coloring with her crayons.
They both looked back at Lily; then Paige turned toward Natalie, her eyebrows up in her bangs. “A sea lion man?” Another slow smile stole across her face. “Where did you see the sea lion man, Lily?”
“Paige, knock it off. It’s not the sea lion man . . . Well, it is the sea lion man who I went to help last night, but I’m not interested in him. And his name isn’t Sea Lion Man. It’s Elliott.”
Paige lifted her coffee cup to her lips and smiled at Natalie over the rim. Natalie knew she’d lost this round.
But she wasn’t losing this bet.
She made two cups of coffee with harsh movements and walked one back to Olivia’s room. “Some sisters are nice,” she snapped at Paige.
When she came back out, Paige and Lily were sitting at the table, both coloring. She decided to skip the cereal and instead take her coffee out to the balcony, where she could breathe in some fresh ocean air and forget about how much Paige irritated her.
She leaned against the balustrade and stared at the beautiful ocean just fifty feet away. A young couple looked peaceful walking their dog along the water’s edge, a do-gooder woman was picking up trash with a long pole and a large bag, and behind all of them a male runner was sprinting at a pretty good clip in the damp sand. Natalie took a sip of her coffee and enjoyed him for a minute. He had his shirt off, a lean torso with clean molded muscles across his chest and shoulders, muscular legs flexing at every long stride, and—
Natalie almost spilled her coffee over the balcony as she stood straighter. Elliott?
She peered more closely and saw that it was, indeed, him. His hair glinted in the early-morning sunlight as it bounced across his forehead with each long stride; his fists clenched as he pumped his arms; and the water reflected upward to cast his body in a deep gold, outlining shadows into the ridges across his muscled abdomen. A sheen of perspiration across his chest caught the water’s reflection, and his stride lengthened—all style and grace, pulling him rhythmically across the sparkling ocean’s edge, following the ribbons of sea foam that seemed to create a path for only him.
Natalie concentrated on closing her mouth and set
her coffee cup on the edge of the balcony so she didn’t drop it. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he moved like air across the golden horizon.
“Look, Natalie, I’m sorry. I was just—” Paige interrupted the spell, and Natalie whirled around as if caught.
Paige’s eyes went over her shoulder, and it didn’t take her long to zero in, like some damned submarine scope, on exactly what Natalie had been feasting her eyes on.
“Ah. Is this like taking whiffs of cookies right out of the oven when you’re on a diet?” Paige walked to the edge of the balcony and watched him herself. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
Natalie picked up her mug and tried to look bored as she sipped it and focused on one of the other beach walkers.
“That woman comes out here and picks up trash every morning, you know,” she said, pointing Paige in another direction.
“Uh-huh.”
“Aren’t you going to look at her?”
“I’m busy.”
Elliott had come to the end of the row of cottages—Olivia’s was just two from the end—and had turned around and was jogging back the other way, a little slower now. He seemed to be in some kind of cooldown but was still moving at an impressive pace. Natalie and Paige both sipped their coffee and stared. He pulled his T-shirt out of the back of his waistband and mopped his face, then glanced in their direction and did a double take.
He made a sharp turn and jogged in their direction.
Paige’s eyes went wide.
“Stop staring!” Natalie whispered.
Paige ignored her completely. “Do you know him?”
“Yes! Stop staring!”
Paige continued to ignore her while they enjoyed another few seconds of his taut chest muscles before he tugged the T-shirt over his head.
Natalie swallowed her disappointment, embarrassed that she’d been gawking for so long. She always hated when men ogled her, and yet here she was doing the very same thing.
“Hello!” he finally yelled when he was within shouting distance. “I didn’t realize you lived right here.”
Natalie couldn’t decide if she was mortified or pleased that he’d spotted her and had run all the way over. Vignettes of the previous night—and memories of kisses across the back of her neck—heated her face. What had she been thinking? This kind, shy man needed a friend—and tips on dating, as he was looking for a serious relationship—and she was acting like some sex-starved prairie vole just because she was on a mancation for three weeks. She needed to back off.
The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel) Page 14
