Short Soup Read online

Dion steered the kayak to a gentle halt where the waves lapped the beach. Toni helped him pull the vessel further up before turning back to the sea. She was stickier than a lollipop, the sparkling water was irresistible, and she already had her bikini on beneath her outer clothing. Peeling off her T-shirt and shorts, she tossed them aside along with her baseball cap.

  “Coming?” She glanced back at Dion.

  He stood there, hands on hips, gazing at her bikini-clad body. “You go on ahead.”

  As soon as she’d waded in hip-deep she dived beneath the surface, keen to wash the perspiration from her skin and to put a little distance between her and Dion. She’d be naive to think she wasn’t inviting trouble. Here they were together on an isolated beach clad in only a few scraps of clothing. They’d been in this situation countless times in the past and nothing had ever developed, but after last night everything had changed, forever. She could never look on Dion in the same platonic way again.

  Rising to the surface, she wiped her face and flicked back her hair. Dion was in the sea now, having taken off his T-shirt. In the glimmering heat his body was golden, firm and compact. He’d never been interested in gyms; the toned lines of his chest and shoulders came from working in kitchens and paddling in kayaks. For the life of her she couldn’t stop staring at him, and when his gaze met hers a molten quiver liquefied her insides.

  He ploughed through the water towards her. Her heart rate sped up in anticipation. If he reached for her she wouldn’t be able to protest. But when he was a few metres away he ducked under the water and swam away from her. She exhaled, chiding herself for feeling disappointed, and struck out in the opposite direction, determined not to make a fool of herself. After a few minutes swimming, she’d cooled down and decided stretching out on the beach would be more relaxing. The sand squeaked beneath her soles as she walked back to her scattered clothes. A few scrubby bushes provided some dappled shade where she sat down. While she was squeezing the water out of her hair, Dion joined her, his body shiny and slick after his swim, his skin the colour of honey.

  She schooled herself not to stare at him. “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “No traffic, no crowds, no noise, no stress. I feel as though I’m a thousand miles away from Sydney. I don’t know why I ever left.”

  He slung himself down on the sand a good distance away from her. “Of course you do. You left because you wanted something different, something you couldn’t get here.”

  She searched his tone for a hint of criticism but found none. He was just stating the facts. “I suppose.” Scooping up a handful of sand, she let the hot grains trickle through her fingers. “My mum thinks I should move back here, find a job in an accounting practice nearby.”

  He twisted towards her. “You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”

  “Um, why do you sound so incredulous? After the last few years maybe I do want a bit of peace and quiet. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Because you’re not a quitter. Yes, you’ve had a rough time, but you’ve also achieved a lot. You’ve worked hard, made sacrifices. Don’t waste it all because of Nick.”

  The fierce glint in his eyes made her draw back. Part of her had been secretly hoping that this kayak trip would result in a few more kisses with Dion, even though another part had warned her not to get carried away, but now he seemed to be actively pushing her away. He’d kept his distance from her while swimming – a perfect opportunity for some horseplay, she would have thought – and now he was telling her she didn’t belong here, that her place was back in Sydney a safe distance away from him. An unexpected lump formed in her throat. Not trusting her voice, she stared silently out to sea.

  Sand squeaked as Dion shifted his legs. “Tell me something,” he said, his voice gentler. “When you found out about Nick having an affair, why didn’t you come straight back? Why did you stick it out in London for another six months?”

  Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs. “Three reasons. One, it was quicker to get a divorce over there; two, I had a complex project to wrap up; and three, I didn’t want people to think Nick had driven me away. I wanted to leave on my own terms.”

  “Good. You didn’t let him ruin your career. You enjoy your work, don’t you?”

  She nodded. All bad jokes aside, she did derive great satisfaction from her job and couldn’t think of anything else she’d rather be doing.

  “Well, then, you deserve a serious job with good prospects,” Dion continued. “And the best place for that would be Sydney.”

  “You seem suddenly keen to get rid of me,” she couldn’t help blurting out.

  “What?” He stared at her, his throat working as he swallowed. “I don’t want to get rid of you.” He hesitated then added, “I want you to be happy.”

  She gazed down at an ant struggling across the sand. To the tiny insect the beach must seem an impossible moonscape but still it soldiered on, following some invisible path back to its nest.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking.” She watched the ant negotiate a piece of driftwood that would seem like a small mountain to it. “I can pass exams with flying colours, I can analyse billion dollar portfolios, I can remember a large amount of facts and figures; but when it comes to happiness I’m as clueless as the next person. My parents always drummed the same old mantra into me – study hard, get a degree, go after a good job. That was the path to success in life. Achieve that and everything else will fall into place. But now I know that’s not how it works, at least not for me.”

  She paused to take in a breath then scrubbed her hands across her face, letting out a shaky, deprecating laugh. “Jeez, I didn’t mean to sound so self-pitying. You’re right. I’m just kidding myself I could move back here. I belong in a big city like Sydney.” Not waiting for his reply, she pulled herself to her feet and started dusting sand from her bottom. “Come on, we’d better head back or you’ll be late with your prep work.”

  He stood too, his gaze still fastened on her face. “Toni.” He stepped towards her. “You know how to be happy. Maybe you’re out of practise, but you never forget. It’s like riding a bicycle.”

  This. This was what she’d missed for so long. His down-to-earth compassion, his light-hearted teasing masking his concern. Why had she ever allowed them to drift apart? She’d never make that mistake again. Her heart began to pound as she realised what she was about to do. It tattooed even faster when she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Two nights ago I was too chicken to do this,” she whispered, looking him straight in the eye. “But now I’m not.” Rising up on her toes, she pressed her mouth against his.

  For a second he remained still before his lips warmed and he began to kiss her back, folding his arms tight around her and thrusting his fingers through her hair. This time there was no hurry. They exchanged soft kisses, exploring each other with their lips, tasting, licking, nibbling. He felt so good, tasted so divine, she wanted so much from him. She traced her hands over his shoulders and neck, the short hairs at his nape tickling against her palms. This man she had known all her life, yet now she was making so many discoveries – like the delicious curve of his spine, the salty tang of his skin, the smooth firmness of his pectorals, and the way he gasped when she touched her tongue to his nipple, his response exciting her even more.

  “You little devil,” he muttered, his face flushed as she teased him some more. Both his palms closed over her butt, bringing her pelvis into close contact with his. Warm fingers slid beneath her damp bikini bottom to explore her curves.

  “Kiss me some more,” she said, and he obliged. With the length of his body plastered against hers, she could feel every inch of his torso, his hips, his thighs. As the kissing grew hotter, so too did the bulge in his board shorts, the thrust of his erection against her belly filling her with an indescribable sensation of power. That she could arouse this man to such a state so quickly thrilled her and also scared her.

>   His fingers skated up the length of her spine before gripping the knot holding her bikini top together. Moments later he tugged the fabric free. Balmy sunshine enveloped her bared breasts, followed quickly by his hand. Air caught in her throat as he stroked her lovingly, his knuckles brushing back and forth across her nipples, making them stand to attention. When he lowered his head to suck, he lit a fuse of lust which streaked through her body. Desperate for him to suckle her more, she arched herself against him so urgently they began to topple over. Just in time he caught her before lowering them both to the ground. With his lower body pinning her down, he continued to caress her breasts with his hands and mouth until her brain began to spin from hyperventilation.

  She pushed her hands beneath the waistband of his shorts to find his buttocks cool from his swim. In contrast, the front of his shorts pressing down on her felt hot, his engorged groin nudging into the apex of her thighs. Dear God, she thought hazily, I’m about to have sex on a beach with Dion Chan. No doubts, no questions, no holding back. It seemed as inevitable as the tide.

  Dion must have had the same realisation. Lifting his head from her breast, he stared down at her, his breathing laboured, the smouldering arousal in his eyes so electrifying it caused her to lift her hips and thrust against him.

  “Sweetness …” He gasped, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. “I don’t suppose you brought a condom with you?”

  “Oh … no.” Her hormones yelped in protest. No, she couldn’t survive if they didn’t consummate things soon. She’d go mad, mad with lust if they stopped now. “Dion, I – I’m going crazy here.” She rolled her hips again, felt the tip of his penis burn through the thin layers of cloth and a responding wetness flood the dip between her thighs.

  “Uhn.” He groaned, briefly closing his eyes. “What about me? I’m not exactly sane myself. But if we don’t have a condom …”

  “You could just, uh, y’know, ease yourself in.” She licked her lips desperately. “I just want to feel you inside me. We don’t have to move or anything.” She couldn’t believe what she was suggesting. How had she suddenly become such a raving sex addict?

  He groaned again. “You know that’s not going to work. Don’t tempt me, please.” He swiped the back of his arm across his perspiring brow, the cords of his neck straining under the tension. He gazed down at her a while longer, then burst out, “Oh, fuck, I can’t stand it any more.” With lightning speed he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms and pulled them right off. She let his knees spread her thighs wide apart. His hands traced the shape of her mound, his fingers brushing her pubic hairs before seeking the moistness in her folds. Kneeling over her, he bent his head, his mouth following where his fingers probed.

  A strangled gasp hissed from her lips. Did he know she’d never had sex this way? Her fingernails clawed at the sand. Everything was molten hot – the sand beneath her, the sun above her, Dion on top of her, and most of all his mouth. His tongue was searing as he lapped at her, penetrating her, opening up new pathways of desire she’d never experienced before. Her body responded instinctively, her back arching to give him greater access, her fingers tousling through his hair, her hips rising in time to his licking and sucking.

  Through the thudding blood in her ears came a vague pulsating noise from elsewhere. It sounded mechanical, and it was getting louder. Dazed, she lifted her head to see an enormous white boat rounding one of the headlands. It was one of the dolphin watching cruisers, and it was packed to the gills with sightseers as it prepared to motor past their beach.

  “Dion … Dion …” she panted.

  “Don’t worry,” he muttered. “I’ll get you there.” His tongue returned to her.

  The boat throbbed closer. Her flesh started to turn to jelly. Cameras winked in the sun, and people pointed at them.

  “N – no.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Uh, there’s a boat full of people passing us. We’re about to make the six o’clock news.” He lifted his head. She wanted to scream in frustration.

  “Bugger.” Dion picked her up in his arms and staggered behind the straggly bushes, where he collapsed onto the sand, laughing and heaving for breath. “That was close.” He chuckled, peering through the bushes to check the progress of the dolphin-watching cruiser before glancing back at her. She was stark naked, sand stuck into every crevice, her body still roaring for the pleasure he’d promised her. “Sweetie, we’ll have to take a raincheck on the grand finale. That’s the eleven o’clock tour. We have to get back. I’m going to be really behind my prep work today.”

  “Oh no. It’s all my fault.” With a grimace she remembered her father urging her not to monopolise Dion’s time. She couldn’t even offer to help him because she’d be useless in the kitchen, and she knew he wouldn’t be asking his parents or hers for help. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have led you astray.”

  “I’m not sorry. I’m glad you’re leading me astray for a change.” Reaching out, he cradled one of her breasts in the palm of his hand. “Let me repeat, I’m very glad.” His husky voice and caressing fingers sent a tremble through her veins. Oh boy, if he didn’t stop fondling her breast she was going to jump him again. He dropped his hand reluctantly, as if he’d read her mind. “Come on, let’s find your bikini.”

  The bed squeaked in protest as Toni turned over for the umpteenth time. She just couldn’t get comfortable and sleep was far away even though it was almost midnight. Her mattress was too lumpy, the sheets too scratchy, the night too hot, the crickets too noisy. Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair. No, she couldn’t lie to herself. The only reason she couldn’t sleep was because a certain hunky cook had taken over her entire being. After Dion had hurriedly dropped her off she’d been restless all day. Her mother had exclaimed at the amount of sand stuck in her hair and all over her body. She’d spent ages in the shower, but she imagined there were some grains lodged in her forever, a memento of her kayak trip with Dion.

  The memory of the sun, the sand, and Dion driving her to the edge made her roll over, her hot limbs tossing about. She needed him, needed him desperately to finish off what he’d started on the beach. And soon, or she’d be climbing the walls. Nothing else would do. When would they get another chance to be alone before she had to head back to Sydney? The prospects didn’t look good. Tomorrow was her birthday, and her parents had planned a daytrip to Newcastle. In the evening they were going to dine at the Happy Palace, and the day after that she was driving back to Sydney. No time to rendezvous with Dion, especially given the necessity to keep it secret. And really she had no business distracting Dion at such a critical time. He needed to focus on the restaurant, and already he’d stumbled a little by turning up late today. All because of her and her inconvenient urges.

  Flinging the sheets away, she sat up and turned on the bedside light. Not much had altered in her room since she’d last lived at home. The same white furniture, blue speckled walls, groaning bookshelves, good luck charms she used to collect. In some ways she was as unchanged as this bedroom. She was still finding her way in the world, still plagued by anxieties and doubt, still looking for love. Was Dion the answer to that last question? Or was she making a huge mistake? The sexual chemistry between them was scorching hot, but it was also dangerous because it clouded her judgement. She’d thought she’d found her soul mate in Nick, and look how that had turned out. Maybe she was repeating the same error with Dion.

  No, Dion is nothing like Nick. Nothing. That unmistakeable fact hammered through her confusion. She knew Dion inside out. But he’s changed too. He’s not the same person any more. That too was undeniable. Groaning, she swung her legs out of bed and rested her bare feet on the cool wooden floorboards. She’d never get to sleep now.

  Her mobile phone on the nightstand beeped. Her stomach muscles tightened as she saw Dion’s name pop up on the screen.

  “Hi,” she said cautiously.

  “Hey chuckle berry.” Like his voice, she’d heard his nonsense pet name for her often before, but sudd
enly they both made breathing difficult.

  She attempted to sound matter-of-fact. “A bit late for a phone call, don’t you think?”

  “You’re not asleep.”

  “How d’you know that?”

  “You just turned on your bedside light a moment ago.”

  “Uh, you’re outside?”

  “I’m parked across the road.”

  The back of her neck began to tingle. “How did it go at the restaurant tonight? Did you get everything prepared on time?”

  “I don’t want to talk about the restaurant right now.”

  She waited, then, knowing the conversation was going to get tricky, said, “What do you want to talk about then?”

  “Well …” His voice expanded like warm syrup. “For starters, tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

  She glanced down at her Bugs Bunny T-shirt and three-quarter length pink cotton pants. Her usual comfy sleepwear. She hadn’t counted on a midnight caller. “Oh, well, let’s see. Tonight I’m wearing a black lace teddy.”

  He swallowed audibly. “A lace teddy?”

  “Mm. Low cut.” She rolled out a purr. “It’s so warm tonight I didn’t want to wear much.”

  “Come to the window.” His voice roughened. “I want to see you.”

  She gulped. This call was rapidly getting out of control. “Uh, better not, someone else might see me.” She waited for him to respond, but instead all she heard were rustling noises followed by the sound of heavy breathing. “Dion?”

  From outside her bedroom window she heard shrubbery being stirred and footsteps approaching. “I’m by your window,” he said. “Climb out and come back to my place.”

  “My parents are sleeping just across the hall!” she whispered fiercely.

  “You’d better hurry up, then. Open your window, or do you want me to break in?”

  She peeked around the curtain. From the garden below Dion gazed up at her, hands on hips, looking like he was about to scramble up the wooden lattice nailed to the wall.