Secrets In Sydney. Emily Forbes

Nothing about it had been measured. It had been all about need—his and hers—two people equal in their quest to lose themselves in each other, taking more than giving.

      Now, as his lungs refilled with air and his blood came back to his brain, the full impact of what had just happened hit him. He had a woman in his bed. A woman in his apartment. Before he’d gone blind, he’d always had sex with a woman at her place. That way he had been the one in control. He could get up and leave when he was ready, sometimes before he was ready if the hospital called him out—but either way his departure took place prior to the woman snuggling up and falling asleep on his shoulder. He’d always mumble something about ‘work’ and ‘calling later’, which, of course, he never did. Work had always come first because it protected him from tumbling back to poverty and the griminess of his childhood.

      The mattress moved and he reached his hand out to touch Hayley’s silky hair, surprised at the need he had to feel her presence.

      You never went in for touchy-feely stuff.

      The last time I had sex I wasn’t blind. This is my way of seeing her.

      If you say so.

      He blocked out his internal argument. ‘You okay, Hayley?’

      ‘I’m fine. Why?’

      He heard the smile in her voice. ‘It was pretty fast.’

      She gave a throaty laugh. ‘Fast, but good, I hope.’

      ‘Very good.’ And it had been. Intoxicatingly good, and his blood still sang with her taste and touch. The buzz reminded him of the high he’d always got from riding his 1000 cc motorcycle fast along the coast with the throb of the powerful engine vibrating through him, and the wind and salt pounding him. It was amplified exhilaration and totally addictive. But as much as he’d loved the speed of his motorcycle and his sports car, he’d also enjoyed long, leisurely walks. That had given him a totally different buzz and that was the one he wanted now. He knew the urgent feel of Hayley’s arms and legs around him, the hot press of her body against his, and her gasps of breath as she begged for him. This time he wanted to feel and hear her shatter from a long, slow build-up. From a seduction so unhurried in its approach that it would sneak up unannounced and render her deliciously helpless with its power. And then he’d join her.

      Hayley felt Tom’s fingers in her hair and the unhurried way they explored its length until they reached her scalp and traced the width of her forehead. The touch was gentle as opposed to urgent, which was how it had been from the moment they’d stumbled into his apartment. How she’d managed to stand next to him in the hall, watching him miss the door lock three times without lunging for the key and ripping it out of his hand and slamming it into the lock, still amazed her. Both of them had been crazy with lust and had given themselves over to it completely. Now the exhilaration was fading and exhaustion from her huge night at The Harbour was sending out its cloying tendrils. His fingers soothed and her eyes fluttered shut.

      ‘What happened here?’

      Her eyes flew open as she felt his fingers on her hairline, caressing the small scar that nestled there, hidden under her hair. No one ever saw it and yet Tom, who couldn’t see, had found it. She looked up at him as he stared down at her through beautiful yet sightless eyes, knowing she was only a shadow to him. ‘I fell off my bike when I was nine.’

      He nodded slowly as if he was compiling a picture of her. ‘What colour’s your hair?’

      ‘I say it’s brown but my hairdresser insists it’s chestnut. However, we both agree that it’s dead straight.’

      His mouth tweaked up in a half-smile. ‘That I knew. Not one single curl snagged my fingers.’ He breathed deeply as he ran strands of her hair across his face. ‘It smells like lime and coconut.’

      Her short laugh showed her embarrassment. ‘I have a bit of a thing for body lotions, perfumes and shampoo, but I also know that often patients are scared before surgery so I think I should smell nice for them.’

      He pressed his lips to her forehead. ‘I appreciate it.’

      A silly quiver of happiness shoved her embarrassment away.

      His palms cupped her cheeks and his thumbs met at the bridge of her nose. He stroked outwards with a delicious amount of pressure—not firm but not soft either— and she let his touch roll over her, stripping her muscles of all their tension as she sank into the mattress. She’d never been touched quite like this. It was an almost reverent exploration that put sighted lovers in the shade. His hands brushed her eyebrows and then outlined her closed eyes.

      Again Tom’s voice called her back. ‘Are they chestnut too?’

      She struggled to concentrate as his fingers sent rivers of relaxation washing through her. ‘What?’

      ‘Your eyebrows. Are they chestnut?’

      It seemed odd to be describing herself—almost vain—but she’d enjoyed watching Tom and studying him over the last ten days and this was his turn. ‘No, they’re darker and so are my eyelashes. With my brown eyes and long brown lashes my sister used to—’ She bit off the words. She didn’t want to think about Amy right now. This wasn’t the real world with all its pain and heartache. This was pure escapism.

      ‘Call you a Jersey cow?’

      She gasped in surprise. ‘How did you know?’

      He grinned. ‘Big brown eyes and long, thick lashes. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to work that one out.’

      His thumbs continued to explore her face. ‘Your nose is cuter than a Jersey cow’s.’

      ‘Gee, thanks.’ She laughed half-indignantly and then reached out her hand, running it along the length of his very distinctive nose and lingering on the slight bump. ‘Mine hasn’t been broken.’

      ‘You probably grew up on the Northern Beaches.’ It was said without rancour, but it inferred that her childhood had been easier than his.

      She didn’t confirm her middle-class upbringing because she knew more than anyone that money didn’t protect a child from death or a family from loss. Instead, she let him capture her hand from his nose, place it by her side and then kiss her.

      Deep beyond her tiredness, her body stirred.

      The length of his body edged hers lightly, moving against it and then away with each breath he took. His hands brushed her chin and her neck, and then he stroked her collarbone with a feather-soft touch, lingering on the slightly raised area on the right-hand side. ‘The bike accident?’

      A delicious tingle spread around her body, demolishing the fatigue and waking her up in the most wonderful way. ‘Who knew my body was a road map of my life? There’s an appendix scar further down.’

      ‘Poor Hayley.’

      He kissed the spot where the bone had knitted, his tongue caressing her skin, and her legs twitched as the shimmers joined together into one wide river of glorious sensation. Then his hands reached her breasts and his touch became almost reverent. Cupping them, he took their weight and a deep line of concentration carved into his brow.

      She was instantly self-conscious, wondering what was wrong with her breasts. ‘What?’

      ‘They’re just as I imagined.’

      She didn’t understand. ‘But you’ve touched them before.’

      He smiled a knowing smile. ‘That was a mere brush of the hand, which to a blind man is nothing more than a passing glance. Now, this …’ his thumb stroked her nipple ‘… is really seeing them.’

      A hot arrow of longing darted straight down between her legs and her body jerked against his.

      This time he grinned widely. ‘If you like that, you might just enjoy this.’

      His mouth closed around the areola of her other breast while his thumb continued to brush the nipple. Her