So somehow I managed to erase/save over this section, spent ages trying to get it back. Gave up and rewrote it. Not sure I'm happy with the new one, but can't compare it to the old one now. I always have fluff angst, so I'm off to hide, tell me when it's safe to come out.
Chapter Fifty-One
Sunday 4th August.
A little less conversation
"Nikki," Harry murmured into her skin, his stillness of earlier had been replaced by a growing sense of urgency.
"Do you think Leo knew?" Nikki asked.
"I wouldn't put it past him," Harry said, his enthusiasm for conversation waning. He still had his arms wrapped tight around her, but now he was gently tugging her with him towards the door.
"Do you think he minds?"
"Mind's what?" Harry asked gasping for breath.
"This. Us?" Nikki raised her eyes to the stairs and up towards his old bedroom. "In his house?"
"If he had planned it, wherever he is, he is probably whooping for joy and doing cartwheels." Harry laughed.
"Now there's an image. Do you think he can see us?"
"Nikki!" Harry chided. "What are you hoping for; marks out of ten?"
"Harry!" she laughed in return.
"Now Elvis has a lot to say about this," Harry said seriously, kicking off his socks and shoes as he did so.
"What does Elvis have to say about THIS?" she copied his action, kicking her shoes towards an empty bookshelf.
Harry grabbed her upper arms and pinned her against the wall. "A little less conversation, a little more action!" he growled, his lips bearing down on hers and his fingers working on the buttons of her blouse.
"Are you sure that was Elvis, and not Beto on Skype the other day?"
"You noticed?"
"It was hard not to," she laughed. Her laugh had always done unmentionable things to his insides but tonight took it to a whole new level.
"You have such a sexy laugh," he said, causing her to laugh all over again.
Nikki took the chance as he was undoing her buttons to step backwards up a couple of the stairs.
"What action was Elvis thinking of?" she asked innocently.
"I'm sure he meant this," Harry muttered, kissing the skin of her breast along the edge of her satin bra.
She seized the opportunity to attack his belt, and quickly stepped backwards up another couple of steps. She saw Harry raise his eyes to the top; he was obviously reassessing his need to reach the bedroom. He pulled his shirt over his head.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
He looked up at her; there were so many different ways of answering her question. Yes he was happy but not just because he was, after a long hiatus going to get some decent sex, there was so much more at stake here. His relief was palpable, like trying to remember a word that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long, until finally it emerged from his triumphant subconscious. Making love to Nikki was the fulfilment of something that had been there for years, right on the tip of his tongue but until now it had been inaccessible.
He climbed up to the stair beneath the one she was stood on, and kissed her cheek.
"You have made me, the happiest man on the planet." He said seriously.
"Already?" she asked flirtily and pushed down her skirt.
"Already," he smiled adding another kiss. "You?"
"Ditto," she sighed with a gasp as Harry ran his hand across her breast and down past her bare waist.
"Doesn't count. You can't be the happiest man on the planet. You're not a man." He insisted.
"No, I'm not," she agreed. Her eyes meeting his gaze.
"I'm definitely a woman."
"Yes you are," agreed Harryand unhooked her bra to emphasize his point and mentally pictured a few more things he hoped to find on the tip of his tongue.
Harry pointed to the top of the stairs.
"Ladies first."
"Is that a promise?" she retorted taking another step towards the top.
"Do you want it to be?" he asked; his voice low and breathy, following her step for step.
Her fingers played across his shoulders and onto his chest. He caught one in his mouth and he heard her gasp in response.
Somehow they managed the last few stairs and tumbled onto the bed. Harry pushed back her hair from her forehead.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered.
The last time they had both been on the same bed, they had been on opposite sides with their feet firmly on the ground. This time they were intertwined, the final distance between them conquered.
"You are different," she said. "I like it," she added. Harry growled what Nikki hoped was an affirmative response.
"You've got more…more…" she struggled to find the right word, the movement of Harry's fingers doing nothing to help her concentrate, or not on vocabulary.
"Chutzpah?" Harry suggested with a grin ostentatiously licking his fingers.
"Balls," Nikki replied with a bigger grin and a demonstration that caused Harry to throw back his head and suck in his breath as if a jolt of electricity had passed through him.
His kisses travelled down her body, following the path his fingers traced across her skin. After that he took Elvis' advice and concentrated on the action, and not the conversation. But he was sure amongst the sighs and the caresses he heard Nikki mutter,
"At last,"
She was perfect. They were perfect. They were possible.
He'd always known there was no going back; maybe that was why he had waited so long. Never taken the chances he'd had to make love to her before. He'd had his chances, plenty of them. But lying in her arms gloriously exhausted he knew that he didn't want to go back. Ever. They would go forward, and they would do it together.
A Little Less Conversation: Davis and Strange (Elvis)
