Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (11 page)

“Good girl,” he murmured, pleased she’d submitted to him. He lowered his lips to kiss her again, continuing to stroke, gentle but firm. Her panties quickly became soaked, and when he finally hooked his fingers around the cotton, she didn’t complain.

She was already swollen and slick with desire, and he sighed as his fingers slid easily into her warm flesh. He moved them down inside her, and she moaned softly against his lips as he brought them back up, coated with her moisture, to start caressing her most sensitive spot.

“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, meaning it, loving the way her dark hair curled damply around her neck, the glisten of sweat in the V of her breasts, the dark desire in her striking green eyes. “I wish I could slide inside you now.”

“God, don’t…” She shuddered, arching against him, not objecting as he pushed her legs a little wider and continued to stroke her firmly beneath her skirt. “Toby…”

“Is that good?” He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, then back to her lips again, letting his mouth hover over hers, exchanging hot breaths.

“Oh…yes… You seem to know…right where…the best spots are… Oh…”

Desire flooded through him, and his erection strained against his tight shorts. He crushed her mouth to his, holding her tight against him. She moaned deeply, and he kissed down to her throat, around to her ears. “I wish I could taste you,” he said, grazing his teeth on her neck. “I want to lick every inch of your body and then plunge my tongue inside you, and suck this soft button of yours until it makes you moan.” He circled the area lightly, teasing her, enjoying her gasps of delight.

“Oh, fuck…” She tipped her head back as he laced his tongue across her throat.

“I want to do that too. I want to throw you onto the bed and thrust deeply inside you, and feel you tighten around me as you come.”

“Toby…”

He pulled her onto his lap, dizzy with desire, wanting to feel her soft body. Turning her so she faced away from him, he pulled her back against his chest, groaning as she ground her buttocks against his erection. He slipped his hand back beneath her skirt, wishing he could strip off her clothes and see his fingers sliding inside her. She wore no bra, and her breasts were soft through the cotton vest.
 

There was something about Esther’s body he loved. She was soft everywhere, so womanly. Childbirth had only emphasised this—her breasts were larger, her body slightly yielding to his fingers. How could she think it had made her less attractive?

“Tell me you don’t want me,” he said hoarsely, stroking her more firmly and rolling her nipple between the fingers of his other hand. “Tell me you don’t want me inside you.”

“Oh, God, I do,” she whispered, rocking her hips against his hand as she leaned her head back on his shoulder. “I want you…”

Her body shuddered and stilled. He pressed his thumb against her clit and slid two fingers inside her as she came, smothering her soft cries with his mouth. She tightened around his fingers, and he sighed as her muscles pulsed, surprised at the intense feeling of satisfaction he got at the thought that he was responsible for her pleasure.

Then she went limp in his arms, and he withdrew his hand, turned her and cradled her against him. Her heart raced under his hand where it rested on her ribcage.

Feeling strangely protective of her, he tightened his arms and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “You’re very welcome. Good to see everything is still in working order.”

She gave a short laugh. “Yeah.”

“What a pleasant way to spend a Saturday afternoon.”

She lifted her head to look at him. Her cheeks were still flushed. “I half-expected to look up and see Charlie standing there.”

He laughed at that. “That would probably put him into therapy for the rest of his life.”

“Jeez. Don’t even go there.”

Their eyes met, and she reached up a hand to cup his face. He lowered his head and kissed her.

When he lifted his head, she pressed her lips together. “You know this can’t go anywhere, right?”

His joy faded at her words. But she spoke the truth. They still lived at opposite ends of the country. And there were too many issues between them now—his leaving her in Fiji, her not finding him and telling him about Charlie. She said she’d tried, but how hard? A niggling doubt told him she’d wanted to punish him and, even if she had attempted to track him down, she’d probably given up easily. How could they ever move past those problems?

She stroked his cheek with her thumb, and a mischievous twinkle appeared in her eye. “However…”
 

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes…?”

“It would seem a shame to waste a golden opportunity.”

What was going through her mind? “Oh?”

“You deserve a reward for being so generous today.”

“I do,” he said, warming up to the game.

“And for saving my life.”

“That deserves an extra-special prize,” he admitted.

She smiled. “I was thinking about the Naughty Nights game…”

His heart rate increased a little. “I see.”

“Poor Faith’s still waiting for her article.”

“It seems a shame to disappoint her.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Keeping her eyes on his, she wiggled a little in his lap, pressing against his still-firm erection. “Fancy doing some research?”

“
Oh
yeah.” His reply was so heartfelt, she giggled.

“You like that idea?” she asked, amusement lighting her eyes.

He grazed his hands over her, brushing her soft breasts. “I’d be a lunatic to turn down a chance to see you naked.”

“Even with the stretch marks?” She looked suddenly vulnerable again.

“
Especially
with the stretch marks.” He kissed her. “Your body’s amazing, Esther. Soft and luscious. I can’t fake this.” He pressed his erection against her. “You drove me insane three years ago—and you’ve only gotten better with age.”

“Like wine?” she suggested, letting him nibble her earlobe.

“I was going to say like vintage cheddar cheese, but it didn’t seem very romantic.” He lifted his head to look into her eyes as she laughed. Memories of their time in Fiji came flooding back—lying on the white sand, drinking cocktails; dancing on the beach as the sun went down; making love under the ceiling fan, skin sliding over damp skin, him moving slowly inside her, trying to make their time together last.

“What?” She looked self-conscious.

He felt an urge to be honest. “I know there’s a whole world of reasons why we would never work. I know I hurt you badly, and I wish you’d found me when you discovered you were pregnant. And I don’t know that I’m ready to be a father. But I just want to say, for going through it, for growing our child inside you, for giving birth alone when you must have been scared as hell, for bringing Charlie up into such a great boy… Well, thanks. That’s all.”

She bit her lip, and her eyes turned glassy.

“Have you turned soppy in your old age?” he teased.

She shook her head, lowering her lashes. “It’s just…sometimes I wondered what you’d say if you ever found out. I thought you might be angry.”

“Angry?” That puzzled him. He was hurt she hadn’t found him. Nervous about being a father. Apprehensive about the future, about how to make it work so he played a part in Charlie’s life emotionally, physically and monetarily. But anger had never been a response he’d considered. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “We used a condom. For all the fucking good it did.”

She touched his face again, brushing the slight stubble on his cheek. “You really don’t know why I thought that, do you?”

“Er…”

“Do you ever get angry at anything?”

He said nothing, confused. Computer viruses made him angry. Cars when they wouldn’t start. Missing a nail with a hammer and hitting his thumb instead. Not Esther. Why would she make him cross?

She laughed and pushed herself off his lap onto the seat. “Why don’t you go and get the game, and we’ll pick our first role-play?”

“Okay.” He got up and walked into the living room to his suitcase. He wasn’t quite sure why she’d asked to play when she obviously hadn’t forgiven him for leaving her at the airport, but he wasn’t going to argue when sex was on the table.

Chapter Thirteen

Esther watched Toby walk away and then lay back on the swing seat, arms above her head. The warm Northland sun beat down onto her, and although she knew she’d end up getting sunburned if she stayed out there much longer, for the moment she just revelled in its hot, healing rays.

Her muscles felt loose and relaxed after the mind-blowing orgasm he’d just given her. Warmth flooded her cheeks yet again as she thought of how easily he’d made her come, but she couldn’t in all honesty say she regretted it. He was too good at it for her to bemoan his insistent attitude.

While they were on holiday, he’d brought her to the dizzy heights of ecstasy with embarrassing ease time and again. She’d thought about it often since and had never been sure if it was because he was such a skilful lover, or if it was just because she’d been so lacking in sexual experience that the first guy willing to spend five minutes on her had seemed like an expert.

There was no doubt he was an unselfish and generous lover. He’d always made sure she achieved orgasm, usually more than once, before he gave in and relaxed his tight control. In fact he’d always seemed to enjoy giving her pleasure almost as much as taking it himself, a fact she was sure not every guy could claim.
 

And yet now she knew that wasn’t the only reason why she’d responded so well to him. It wasn’t just because of the way he touched her—that he seemed to understand instinctively where her erogenous zones were, or that he pressed everything in the right order. Now she realised she responded to his generous spirit, to his warmth. She loved his sense of humour, his complete openness, as if he kept no secrets at all hidden in his heart. Back in Fiji, he’d been playful, sexy and, looking back, so, so young. Now he was quieter, more serious, but he was still as warm-hearted and generous as ever.

Good job she wasn’t going to let her heart get involved in this, because she could get into some sticky trouble if that ever happened.

“Found it,” he said, appearing back on the deck with the box. “I checked on Charlie too by the way—he’s out for the count.”

She glowed at the fact that he’d thought to check on their son. “Yeah, he normally has about an hour and a half.”

“Oh to be two again,” he sighed, gesturing for her to sit up, taking the seat beside her as she did. “I could easily sleep for a couple of hours in the afternoon.” He put the box on her lap. “There you go.”

She scooted to the end of the swing seat and opened the box. “How are we going to decide? Randomly?”

“I don’t mind. You choose.” While she flicked through some of the cards, he read the instructions in the accompanying pamphlet.
 

“What does it say?” she asked.

“It suggests trying to stay in character as much as possible, because it makes it easier to try new things if you’re acting rather than being yourself.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Certainly some of the scenarios in her hand would be easier to carry out if she was someone else. Just reading them made her cheeks grow warm.

He glanced up at her and grinned. “You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Found a good one?”

She had, and it featured…well, suffice it to say there was no way she was reading
that
one out. “Actually, I think I might go for the one I read to you in Christchurch.”

“The hooker one?”

“Yeah.” She pulled out the card.

“Read it again.”

“‘You’re a very expensive, high-class hooker, looking for customers in a bar. You see a businessman ordering a drink. Go up to him and ask him if he would like a companion for the evening. Get him to buy you a drink, and then let him take you back to his place. Ask what he wants, and tell him what it will cost. And if he wants anything extra, well, that’s up to you.’”

Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of playing out the role. Could she really do it? Act like a prostitute and pretend he’d paid for her services for the night?

“Do we have to dress up?” she asked nervously.

“Of course.”

“It’s all right for you—you only have to dress up like a businessman.”

“That doesn’t come naturally, I assure you.”

“I bet it comes a damn sight more naturally than dressing up like a hooker. I haven’t got a clue what to wear.”

“Something revealing.” He grinned.

“I haven’t worn anything revealing since I was about fifteen. I don’t
have
anything revealing.”

“You’ll have to improvise. Ask Faith.”

“I can’t ask Faith!” She stared at him in horror. “What would she say?”

“I suspect she’ll probably cheer. She’s been desperate to get me fixed up with someone for ages.” He rolled his eyes.

She frowned, leaning her head on her hand. “You said you hadn’t dated for six months. Why not?”