Love: Classified (22 page)

     “I can’t hold on much longer,” he said. “Let me touch you now.”

     He lay beside me and we lay on our sides, tummy to tummy, his legs curling around me, pulling me close. He kissed so deep I forgot where my mouth ended and his began and then his tongue explored inside my ears, my nostrils, my chin. I’d never believed such pleasure was possible, such physical and emotional bliss. He ran his hands up my backbone then grabbed each breast, rocking me gently as his cock grew as hard as stone. I licked his nipples, ran my tongue around the whorls of his ears, kissed the soft skin of his throat.

    
He untangled himself from me and lay me on my back, opening my pussy with his fingers, licking them, licking the insides of my thighs as a writhed in an ecstasy of sensation and the knowledge that this beautiful man was doing this to me now in this special place. His tongue-strokes changes from long and slow to short and fast as he closed in on the part of me that seemed at that moment to be the whole universe, so intense were the sensations. Gently he ran his tongue over my throbbing clit, cooling it with his breath, heating it to melting point with his skillful and pressing tickling.

     “I need you inside me,” I cried, desperate to be filled with his big member that was dripping over my belly as he licked. He
eased his penis into me as I grasped his muscled biceps and pulled him deeper, deeper, crying out with delight as he brought me again and again to the cusp of orgasm.

     “Do you like having my cock inside you?” he asked, looking down at me with hungry black eyes.

     “I love it!” I murmured.

     “Say it. Say ‘I love your cock being inside me’.”

     I said it, knowing I’d never been more honest in my life.

     His words seemed to give him more impetus and he breathed, “I’m coming” as he climaxed, his
bucking cock triggering such a reaction in me that I didn’t recognise my own voice as I cried with pleasure that was almost agonising in its intensity.

Later, we ravenously attacked the fragrant fish, picking off pieces of succulent white flesh and crisp skin with our fingers and letting the contended puppy have some too. We had more cake, more wine and then sat propped up against each other with the fire crackling softly and the puppy snoring snuggled between us.

     “You’ll be going back to work soon,” he said when the fire had died and the night was becoming cold, a wind whipping up from the south.

     “Why did you have to bring that up now, of all times?” I said, angry that he’d spoilt the perfection of the day.

     “I was trying to ascertain your plans,” he shrugged, trying to sound casual.

     “I have no plans, Magnus. I’ve thought of nothing but you, if you must know, since the day I almost rammed my Micra into Matilda.”

     “You must think about your future.”

     “Are you trying to tell me that you have ideas that don’t include me?” I asked bitterly.

     “I can’t include you,” he almost shouted. “What can I offer you, Virginia? Matty’s hardly a salubrious home. I’m unemployed, down and out.”

     “I have a home. You like it. You can live there,” I argued. It was what I wanted more than anything in the world. “And you may be unemployed right now, but you’re far from unemployable. I think you should stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

     “I’m being realistic. Who’d give me a job? I’m the doctor who was responsible for the death of a five year-old girl, remember? That would look great of a curriculum vitae I don’t think.”

     “I know you’re devastated about what happened to little Kristy,” I said gently, lying my head on his shoulder. “Of course you’re shattered by it. But it was an honest mistake. You’re innocent. The medical profession knows that. You’d get a job if…”

     “If I had the guts to apply for one, isn’t that what you were going to say?”

     I nodded, head bent.

     “Well I don’t have the guts,” he bit out. “I couldn’t look at a stethoscope now without going to water. I’m not the man to hitch your wagon to, Virginia. Though god knows I wish I were.”

     I knew there was no point in trying to change his mind tonight. I understood his fears and sympathised with him. “Let’s not talk about the future now,” I said soothingly, snuggling against him again. “Let’s just enjoy each other’s company while we can.”

     “You’re right,” he said, his lips warm against my forehead. “I’m sorry.”

     I felt his hand grip mine, felt it being placed urgently against his cock, throbbing against the zip of his jeans.

     “I want you so much,” he groaned. “But tell me if you’re tired.”

     “I could never get tired of you,” I murmured, sinking back and pulling him down over me, feeling my body open to him, petal by petal.

“Magnus,” I said when we woke, entwined on the sand in the morning, the sky rose-pink all around us, the puppy in the crook of my knees.

     “Mmm?” he questioned, his lips curling into a smile.

     “I must talk to you.”

     “What is it?”

     “It’s just occurred to me that I, we, haven’t been using any protection.”

     “Do you think you could be pregnant?” he asked eagerly.

     “I don’t know. I’m thirty-five. I…”

     He grinned like a boy who’d been given a new football as a surprise. “The perfect age!” he laughed. Then, in a slightly professional tone he asked, “Do you feel different?”

     “Before I tell you, would you be angry if I were?”

     “Angry,” he asked, still grinning. “Angry’d be the last thing I’d be.”

     “You’d be pleased?”

     “I’ve always wanted to be a father. Always. I never thought I’d be lucky enough. Now tell me: do you feel different?”
     I wriggled into a sitting position. “My breasts are tingling,” I told him, almost passing out with bliss as he took one in each hand and bent to suck them, one at a time, tugging at the swollen nipples.

     “Are they still tingling?” he asked mischievously, his lips rounding over the rosy flesh.

     “I’m in heaven,” I whispered.

     We made love again, lazily, slowly, and he said, “If you’re not pregnant after all this, I’ll be amazed. You make me feel like a stud.”

     “You feel like one to me too,” I giggled. “But seriously, a baby doesn’t fit into your plans, does it?”

     “Just a little while ago I told you I have nothing to offer you, no bright future, which is what you deserve. But if you’re about to be a mother, everything changes. You can’t bring up a child on your own.
And I think I’d make a good Dad, if you’d let me. A baby is such a life-affirming miracle that nothing else matters,” he assured me, stroking my belly. Then, putting his lips over its slightly more roundedness, he called softly, “Are you in there, baby?”

     “I think, if I am pregnant, that it happened in York,” I told him. “I’ve missed a period already and the next is due soon.”

     “We could get a pregnancy test in one of the pharmacies in Albany today,” he said excitedly. “Or do you want to wait a little longer?”

     “I’m not sure,” I mused. “I’ll be disappointed if I’m not having a baby. Devastated actually. So I don’t think I want to know, just yet. I’d like to keep believing there is somebody inside me until evidence to the contrary. Is that okay with you?”

     “Whatever’s best for you is best for me,” he said, hugging me again.

     I’d never known such joy as the next week brought and Magnus told me he felt the same. We had the perfect little beach all to ourselves and swam naked
. The whole world seemed fresh and new, from the shells and corals, starfish and anemones in the rock pools to the flat, rippling grace of a stingray cruising in the shallows. We were so happy that we never once discussed going anywhere else and we never mentioned plans for the short time left of our holiday together.

     The puppy’s natural ability in the gentle waves astonished us. We called her Maggie and she swam eagerly between us, her permanently wagging tail acting as a rudder. All day we read, fished, ate and lazed under the peppermint trees. At night, Magnus buil
t a fire and we sat around it under doonas, talking and drinking wine until we could wait no longer and would make love as if the whole day had been merely the prelude to this most important event. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

One afternoon the weather broke. The blue sky became streaked with fluffy white clouds that turned grey, then black by evening. The breeze became a gale, forcing us inside Matilda where we huddled, listening to the snapping of branches and the roar of the waves. Then the rain came. It was tentative and we welcomed it at first. But soon it gushed from the sky, rivulets streaming into the van between miniscule cracks in window and door frames. Leaves, twigs and sand flung through the air, blasting Matilda and coating the windows so we could hardly see outside. The Kombi rocked and swayed and, when Magnus looked out with his torch having wiped a clean patch on the glass outside, he was concerned to see that the clearing in which he’d parked was becoming a boggy pool.

     “I think I’ll try to move us onto higher ground,” he shouted above the wind. “We may be in for a rough ride. Hang on!”

     He turned the key in the ignition and the old van shuddered to life. When he put his foot on the accelerator, Matilda lurched into the mud, sending mugs, glasses and books smashing onto the floor.     

     “I’ll try again!” he called.

     Magnus, from years of driving utes and tractors on his father’s farm, was more than capable behind a steering wheel. But his experience wasn’t helping now and he felt that the van’s wheels were slipping further into the mud.

     “I’ll get out and put something solid under the tyres,” he
yelled.

     “I’ll help you,” I answered, shutting Maggie inside while I climbed out into the storm with Magnus.

     Only one wheel was bogged. I ran to fetch a plank of wood I’d noticed under a tree in the clearing, icy needles of skin pricking my skin and seeping into my jumper. With Magnus’ strength, we were able to slide the plank under the wheel and we both climbed inside again.

     The ocean was galloping up the beach, swamping the clean white sand on which we’d lived. I was scared it would reach the van if we couldn’t move her.

Chapter Eleven

Magnus coaxed the van forward, easing his foot gently down on the pedal to urge the smallest movement from the vehicle.
Matilda obliged and he headed her for the high, open farmland surrounding the peaceful bay. The van twisted, skidded and slipped on the steep, winding bush track. At last, he brought her to a halt on the very edge of the bush, a green paddock separated from it by a vicious-looking barbed-wire fence.

     We peered into the darkness, arcing the torch.

     “I hope your little car will be okay down there,” he remarked, his hand on Maggie’s silky muzzle.

    
“I’d parked slightly higher up than you,” I said, hoping to reassure us both.

     We watched the storm in awe, Maggie jumping when a particularly big spear of lightning streaked the blackness, followed by a deafening crash of thunder that rocked the van and sent the whimpering puppy into Magnus’ arms.

     “Do you think we’re safe?” I asked, wondering what would happen if we got hit.

     “We’ll be fine,” he promised. “We’re not close to any trees.” He pulled me
nearer so that the three of us huddled together as the tumult raged.

     “I’m glad you came,” he added. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed this on my own.”

     “Are you really happy I’m pregnant?” I asked, taking advantage of the darkness that meant he couldn’t see the anxiety in my face. “You weren’t just saying that you were because there’d be nothing I could do about it if I were?”

     He tightened his hold of me as he answered, “I’m going to be the happiest man in the world if I discover that you’re carrying our child, Virginia.” Gently he rubbed my belly. “I’ve wanted my own daughter or son for so long, but it was a dream I thought would
never come true. I believed that babies were blessings other men received, never me. And I promise you I’ll be devastated if the pregnancy test is negative. You’ll have a crying, helpless baby on your hands then – me.”

     I kissed him deeply, loving the way his tongue made itself welcome in my mouth and gave me a quick, delicious taste of him. I reveled in the closeness of our new bond. “I don’t want to tempt fate, but I really do think I’m going to have our child,” I promised. “I’ve been feeling very different. Not sick exactly, just…” I searched for a way to describe it and continued, “Just magic. As if something exciting is happening inside me.”

     “And it is. Right now cells are dividing and thousands of other microscopic changes are taking place in your body. All because I love you.”

     I didn’t say “I love you too.” Instead, I slid my hand between his legs and caressed the gorgeous bulge that brought us both so much pleasure.