Where Sea Meets Sky(45)

“You must be Gemma,” a woman says, coming out of a small den to our right. She’s got a wild mess of hair—even more unruly than Amber’s—and her aging face is pointedly makeup free. She wears a long flowing cape and seems extremely secure in herself, a vision of poise. I wish I could be her someday.

I quickly shake the woman’s hand, her many bracelets jingling as she introduces herself as Kate. When we’re all paid up, we go back to get our bags and lug them through the ramshackle living room, complete with cozy couches and board games, and through the French doors out onto the patio. As I had remembered, the view is still spectacular, overlooking the beach, Kapiti Island, and in the far distance, the tip of the South Island.

“Shit,” Josh says from beside me, sucking in his breath as he takes in the view. “Good choice, Gemma.”

I shrug like it’s no big deal, but secretly I’m over the moon that this is making an impression on him.

“So where are we staying?” Nick asks, and I realize we’re just standing in the middle of the backyard, between a crop of gardens and a soothing koi pond. I nod at what looks like a little shed poking out around the corner, half hidden by lush banana and yellow-blossom kōwhai trees.

“That’s our room,” I tell him. Then I point to a pair of French doors to the side of us that open to the yard. “And that’s where Amber and Josh are sleeping.”

“Sweet,” Amber says enthusiastically as she makes her way to the doors and goes inside.

“You wanted some privacy, aye babe?” Nick asks, wrapping his arm around my waist. I nod and let him kiss my neck and press up against me. I make sure not to look at Josh, who I can tell is now following Amber over to their room. The truth is, I originally wanted us all to stay in the dorm, but there were only two beds available in the four-bed room, so Nick and I snapped up the private one.

I can’t complain, though. When we step into the tiny one-room cottage and see that it has its own queen-size bed with mosquito net, Nick wastes no time in shutting the door and throwing me to the mattress.

I open my mouth to protest, to say that Amber and Josh will be wondering what happened to us, when I realize they won’t be wondering at all. They’ll know. And even though I don’t really feel like it, perhaps a romp in the hay will fix what’s ailing me. And Nick. It has been a few days without real privacy, and usually sex is the only thing that holds us together.

That’s probably why you’ve been falling apart, I think to myself as he kisses me and starts taking off my shorts.

Nick is a good-looking guy. He’s a hot jock, like most rugby players are. He strips down to nothing and his erection stands stiff and swollen. He has a nice cock, too, considering his weakness for steroids. Any woman worth her salt would want to sleep with Nick—I mean, if they were into the clean-cut, overly muscle-y, athlete look. I know it’s what attracted me to him in the first place.

But even though my shorts and underwear are at my ankles and his fingers are pressing down into my folds, I’m very conscious of how un-wet I am. I need this but my body isn’t so sure.

Nick is persistent as ever and there’s no real time for foreplay with him. Soon he’s flipped me over and taking me from behind as he stands at the foot of the bed. It hurts at first but the position allows me to pretend Nick isn’t there at all.

I’m thinking of Josh. I pretend it’s him filling me up, his balls slapping against my ass, his grunts filling the room. It’s not hard to imagine—I’ve had him this way before. He’s more than a fantasy, and if I let out a scream, he could hear me. He’s real and tangible, and for these few moments, he’s mine again.

It’s not long before I’m coming, and I owe it all to him. My hands grip the clean duvet and my face is pressed against it, my mouth obscured, and I’m glad that I can’t accidently call out Josh’s name because that is so close to happening. I can taste it. I want to yell it, scream it. Josh. I want him to know.

When Nick comes, a little too loudly considering where we are, he pulls out and smacks me on the ass.

“Fuck, I needed that one.”

I roll over on my back and nod at him through the quickly fading haze. Usually after sex I find myself feeling closer to him, both mentally and physically. Now I just feel this cold distance between us.

“Hey babe,” he says as he slips his shorts and T-shirt back on.

“Mmm?” I should get dressed, too, but I feel too spent. I’m trying to relive the few minutes before.

“I’m not sure what you have planned tonight with those two,” he says, gesturing toward the house, “but whatever it is, count me out. I saw the pub down the street. I think I’m just going to head there.”