The Principal's Office (6 page)

His lips curved in a slight smile. “Fair enough.” He put out a hand, but didn’t touch her. The way he’d promised not to touch her.

His bedroom was heavy dark wood furniture and white walls. The photos on the walls were all nature scenes, no people. In fact, she hadn’t seen any family photographs in the house. Here, there were shots of majestic redwoods, Yosemite’s Half Dome, and a framed trio of a bear drinking from a backyard fountain. She moved closer to examine the pictures.

“I rented a house in Tahoe, and he visited every day for his morning drink.”

She tipped her head to look back at him. “You took all these?”

“Yes. I like the outdoors.”

They were good. Like something you’d find in a coffee-table book. She’d noticed some nature pictures downstairs but had given them only a glance. “You’re pretty good at photography.”

“It simply takes patience. And I have a lot of that.” He was looking at her with a subliminal message; he’d be patient with her, too.

He was big, and somehow that very fact made him seem comforting, caring—as if, because of his size, he’d always had to exercise caution in how he dealt with people. She wanted to know more about him. Where he was from, if he had family back there, what hobbies he had besides photography, what books he enjoyed, what movies he liked.

All of that was off-limits. She’d set the rule herself. Yet when did simple conversation blur into personal questioning?

Instead of voicing any of that, she peeked into his bathroom to find white tile with a gray wainscoting, an old-fashioned claw-foot tub, and a wood vanity with a marble sink.

“This doesn’t look like you.” Too girly.

He was close when he spoke, his breath whispering through her hair. “The house was recently remodeled. I didn’t think it worth changing. Though the tub is a little short.”

It was too short for him to stretch out, but with the taps on the side, it would be absolutely perfect for two to sit facing each other, his knees along the outsides of hers. Oh yes, she could picture bubbles and candlelight and ruby wineglasses and lots of wet skin.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

“Come out to the deck. I’ve got wine for us.”

She hadn’t noticed the outside door, but when he flipped a switch, soft light streamed across a wood deck, chairs, two wine bottles and two glasses, and, by the side of a table, a standing heater that already glowed warm and red in the evening.

“I forgot to ask if you like red or white,” he said as he opened the door and waved a hand for her to precede him. “So I put out both.”

“Aren’t you thoughtful.” She felt special. Always the one to ask what someone else wanted, she found it nice to have a man take care of her needs. “I’m not terribly fond of red.”

“Then I’ve got a nice white I think you’ll approve of.” At the table, he poured two glasses from the same bottle, and she thought again of a spiked drink. Was he trying to reassure her by drinking the same and letting her watch him pour?

Rachel smiled her thanks as she took the glass, then wandered to the railing. Below, the backyard wasn’t terribly large, but the grass was green and neat, bordered by a hedge of rhododendrons. “You haven’t seen them bloom yet, have you?” The sight would be amazing in a few months when the rainy season was over and the sun was out every day.

“I’m waiting for that, but there are plenty of other things to see in the meantime.” He pulled one of the deck chairs closer to the railing and gestured for her to sit.

When she did, he pulled the second chair next to hers. He smelled so good, the scent not an aftershave, just something light and clean and male.

She sipped. The wine wasn’t too dry or too sweet, but smooth going down. She didn’t have wine at home. It put her to sleep when she had so much to do in the evenings.

“Good?” he asked, taking a larger drink of his own.

“Very. Perfect. What is it?”

“Something I got at one of the smaller wineries down in Paso Robles.”

She wanted to ask if he’d gone to the central coast on his own or with a female friend. He wasn’t married, but she hadn’t asked about other women. Because they weren’t dating. It wasn’t her business.

“I did a bike trip with a group,” he supplied as if he could see the question mark above her head. He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles, and balanced his heels on the bottom rail.

“You’re very outdoorsy.”

He smiled without looking at her, his gaze on something distant. “Oh yeah.”

She knew he was thinking something sexual. The seat cushion was soft, the wine made her mellow, and the heat of his body arced across the short distance between them. She’d forgotten how enticing male heat could be, so much better than the standing heater beside them.

From his second-floor deck, they could see into the yard behind his. The back lights went on, illuminating a hot tub, patio furniture, and a gas barbecue.

“Looks like we’re not alone out here,” he mused, slouching comfortably in his chair.

The horizontal railings were spaced a foot apart with a clear view into the neighbors’ yard. A woman came out. Rachel focused. She was slim but not young, perhaps forty, dark haired, maybe pretty, maybe not—it was hard to tell. Carrying a glass of wine, with a bath towel wrapped around her, she bent to the hot tub’s jets and set the water frothing. Then she dropped the towel on a chaise and, buck naked, climbed into the tub.

Rachel turned to Rand. “You’re a peeper,” she whispered, a touch of awe in her voice. It should have bothered her.

Rand merely tapped his glass to hers. “You’re going to be a peeper, too. Unless you walk away right now.”

She wasn’t even tempted.

“Honey,” the woman called, her voice wafting to them on the night air. “Pour yourself a glass of wine if you want one. I left the bottle out.”

“Can’t she see us up here?” After all, his deck was illuminated, too.

“Oh yeah, she can see us.”

It reminded her of Laurie’s story, the woman doing her ironing. She hadn’t turned out the lights, hadn’t closed the curtains, and she’d had to know anyone in the opposite apartments could see her. “You’re doing this because of the friend I told you about, aren’t you?”

He tipped his head enough to look at her. “It made you hot.”

Rachel wet her lips with wine. Yes. It had. He’d listened to everything she’d said and decided to give her the show she’d only heard about but truly wanted to see. No man had ever
listened
like that, never been interested in what got to
her
. True, she didn’t have a vast experience with men, and most of what she did have was ancient history. But Rand was giving her something she’d never even known she was lacking: a man who looked after
her
needs.

She wondered if he had a clue how potent a seduction that was.

A SCREEN DOOR SLAPPED SHUT IN THE NEIGHBORS’ YARD AND
honey
came out. He wasn’t wearing a stitch, not even a bath towel, and even at that distance, Rachel made out a rather impressive dangle between his legs. It bounced as he crossed the deck. As with the woman, he wasn’t young, but was still in good shape, with short, light-colored hair that could have been gray, or blond like Rand’s. She imagined he was rather good-looking.

“Are they married?” she asked.

“I assume so. They have parties sometimes, but for the most part, I only see them. No children.”

“Do you always bring your dates up here?” she whispered.

Rand laughed. The man looked up. Rachel wished she had a pair of binoculars so she could make out his face. Then again, sometimes fantasy was better than reality.

“We aren’t dating,” he reminded her. Then, as she narrowed her eyes, he added, “I haven’t had time for a social life up to this point. You’re the first woman I’ve shown my big deck.”

She couldn’t help the smile, because she
knew
he was making
a double entendre. And she was glad she was the only one he’d brought out here.

Once he’d seen them, she expected the man to immediately get in the water, but instead he freshened his wife’s wine, folded her towel, and laid it by the edge of the hot tub, then slowly stepped down into the water, steam rising into the cooler air around them.

She had a sudden thought. Standing up, she leaned over the railing, trying to see underneath the deck. Still craning, she glanced back to ask, “Do you have a hot tub?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Watching them makes me want hot water.”

He waggled his fingers, signaling her back down to her chair. “Oh, we’ll find plenty of hot water for you to get into.”

The couple sat in the tub, sipping, talking low, then the woman climbed out to sit on the edge, facing them rather than putting her back to them. “It’s a little hot in there, honey,” she said in an unnecessarily loud voice. “I need to cool off a minute.” Her husband laughed, said something Rachel couldn’t make out.

She leaned in to Rand, basking in his warmth, his male scent, the square cut of his jaw. “How often do you come out here to watch them?”

“I enjoy a nice glass of wine out here beneath the heater. It helps to relax me.”

“Yes, but how often?”

“On weekends. Occasionally during the week.”

“Does she always sit naked like that?”

The woman leaned back, scissored her legs in the water, splashed a little on herself, then ran her hand up her abdomen, over her breasts.

“Yes. Like that. They certainly don’t try to hide anything.”

“You know, she couldn’t have been in the water long enough to overheat.”

“Probably not,” he said, a sly smile creasing his lips.

The woman put her arms up to rub her neck and shoulders, her breasts bobbing with the movement. “Honey,” she purred, “rub my neck, would you?” Then she slid down into the water, giving her husband her back.

They could have sat on this side of the tub and not have been so visible, but no, they made sure to sit on the far side, so that her breasts skimmed the water, in full view of Rand’s deck. Her sounds of pleasure filled the night.

Rachel was fascinated. They knew they could be seen, yet they didn’t care. In fact, Rachel was sure the woman was playing to them, speaking louder than she needed to, even moaning as her husband worked her neck muscles.

She found herself straining closer to Rand, not to whisper, but for the proximity, the intimacy, the scent of man.

“She’s playing it up for you tonight,” he said, his forearm resting on the arm of his chair. She could have touched him, but she didn’t, playing the no-touching game.

“She doesn’t usually make that much noise?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Not for a while. I suppose having only me watching was getting a little boring for her. Same old, same old.”

The husband worked down her shoulder blades, her spine. She arched and moaned over his ministrations. Then his hands flared out to the sides and around to cup her breasts. He massaged her nipples.

Rachel thought of her fantasy massage and was suddenly wet between the legs. She crossed them, pressed her thighs together. Then she was hot, so very hot. It wasn’t the standing heater. It wasn’t even her sweater, but she took that off anyway, flinging it back across the table. “How far do they go?” she asked, then sipped her wine as Rand looked at her. He made her throat dry with longing.

Eyes a smoky blue in the shadow of the light behind him, his features were lined by the outdoors, but rugged and so very handsome for those extra lines. “Because you’re here, maybe nothing,” he said.

She felt a pang of disappointment.

“Then again”—he exhaled with a breath that touched her skin and raised the hairs along her arm—“it might heighten the thrill and they’ll show it all to you.”

She was suddenly burning up, wanting it all, wanting to watch with him. He was freedom. He was edgy. He was kinky. He was all the naughty things she’d never even dreamed of and suddenly wanted with everything inside her.

Maybe at some point during the evening, she could get him to break his promise about not touching her.

RAND TORVIK HAD WAITED WEEKS FOR THIS MOMENT WITH HER
. He’d known it would happen eventually. Law of attraction, like two magnets being drawn together. And he was more than attracted to her. He’d raised his desire to near obsession.

Reaching behind them, he grabbed the wine bottle to refill Rachel’s glass. She was leaning so close, he accidentally brushed her nipple with his arm. She was taut. He breathed her in, the piquant scent of aroused woman. Her skin was warm and flushed, her pupils dilated, her nostrils slightly flared with excitement.

She fascinated him far more than the tableau in the hot tub. Over time, he’d become a bit jaded about it. But watching her made it new and thrilling again. She hadn’t turned out to be as confident and sure of herself as many women her age were, and he’d found that unexpectedly appealing. There were so many things he could introduce her to: a hot and sexy spanking, sex under the stars, being watched instead of merely watching, a little risk taking. This was just the beginning.

She parted her lips in a small gasp, and Rand glanced into his neighbors’ yard. The husband had shoved his wife up, her bare bottom tilted, and pushed his hand between her legs. She leaned on the bath towel he’d laid along the edge for her.

Rand had noted that particular sign of things to come.

“Have they done that before?” Rachel asked, her breath faster, eager.

“Yes.”

She pouted. “I want you to see something new, too.”

“I am.”

“What?”

“You.” He leaned in to whisper to her. “Uncross your legs.”

Her eyes widened, but she did want he wanted, her gaze all for him, the couple forgotten. He breathed in the luscious perfume of her sex. “Are you wearing panties?”

She nodded, swallowed.

“Take them off.”

She gulped. “Right now? While you’re watching?”

“I’m sure you can do it without revealing a thing.” Which would be even more exhilarating. He liked overt in the neighbors’ yard, but up here on his deck, he wanted seduction.

She handed him her wineglass, then, as the neighbor wife filled the night with her musical sounds, Rachel reached beneath her sexy leopard-print dress. She raised her butt, then wriggled until the panties slid down her legs.