What was it about the warm weather that made a person feel so sexy? Conscious of the way the humour in his eyes was gradually turning to desire, she closed her eyes and leaned her head on the back of the cushion.
Don’t do it. Her brain tried to warn her, but her libido gagged it and yelled Go for it!
Would it be a terrible mistake, to sleep with him? Not if she kept her heart separate. To fall in love with him would be a disaster greater than the Christchurch earthquake. But it had been so long since she’d had sex. If they just kept it physical, if she held it in her mind all along that eventually she’d go back to Christchurch, what could go wrong? It was the twenty-first century after all—people had sex for fun all the time. Many people were likely to have had thirteen partners, not three. She’d been sensible and cautious for so long—didn’t she deserve to have a little fun? And it wasn’t as if he was a complete stranger—he was Charlie’s father, and although she didn’t completely trust him, and the hurt he’d caused her still simmered beneath the surface, she couldn’t deny that she wanted him, or that the sight of his strong body made her ache to take him inside her.
She opened her eyes, not surprised to find him watching her. He smiled as she looked up at him, and she let her gaze caress his face for a moment, enjoying the gentleness of his warm brown eyes, his wide nose, generous lips. She’d be a fool to pass up on this chance.
Lifting a hand, she slid it into his thick, dark hair and pulled his head toward her.
Chapter Twelve
Toby closed his eyes as Esther’s lips touched his, startled by her forwardness, but more than happy to comply. She kissed him calmly, unhurriedly, and when he brushed her lips with his tongue, she didn’t complain but instead opened her mouth and welcomed him inside.
It was perhaps the laziest, most erotic kiss he’d ever had, with the only sounds the singing of cicadas in the bush and the buzz of someone’s lawnmower way off in the distance. The smell of lemons and jasmine hung in the air, and Esther’s lips tasted of strawberry lip balm. Her skin was warm under his fingertips as he rested his hand on her knee.
She showed no signs of wanting to stop, either, clearly enjoying this quiet, gentle afternoon, the peace and heat of the summer day after the cool frenzy of her home in the south island. Affection washed over him for this girl, who’d brought up their son alone, struggled for years with no one to help her through the hard times. True, that had been her own choice, and he still wished she’d tried harder to find him, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d coped alone. He wished he could turn back time and make things right between them, but that was impossible. Instead, all he could give her was here and now.
Kissing her was heavenly, but an urge to pleasure her further flooded through him. He couldn’t suggest anything too advanced with Charlie asleep in the next room, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give her ten minutes of summer-filled bliss.
Moving his hand beneath her loose skirt, he started to draw patterns languidly on her thighs. He continued to kiss her, making the circles wider and higher, until eventually he brushed her panties, and she gave a little gasp and opened her eyes. In reply, he moved closer to her and lifted her leg across his lap.
She gave a bigger gasp at that and tried to sit up. “We can’t.”
He tightened his arm around her, forcing her to sit still. “No, we can’t, but you can.”
She flushed at his smile. “I…I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t you?” He touched his lips to hers. “Come for me, honey. Make my day.”
She blinked repeatedly as if shocked. “What about Charlie?”
“We’ll hear his feet on the floorboards,” he murmured. “And anyway, it just looks like we’re having a cuddle.”
She breathed heavily, stiff with tension. “I haven’t been touched there since I gave birth,” she whispered.
Understanding dawned, bringing with it a touch of pity—she was worried her body had changed, and he might not like the new her. Little did she know the thought that she’d harboured their son inside her was strangely alluring. Her body was so different from his own—he’d never really thought about it before, beyond the obvious attraction of female curves. But his newfound awareness of her femininity stirred something inside him he’d not explored before. She fascinated him. She’d given him a son. And for that, even though having Charlie brought its own problems, he wanted to crown her with flowers.
He continued to draw circles on her inner thighs. “What’s a stretch mark or two between friends?” he teased. “I’ve got a few myself.”
She gave a short, embarrassed laugh and pushed him. “Idiot.”
He nuzzled her ear. “Why don’t we see if everything still works? Nobody’s watching.” He kissed her jaw, brushed his lips against hers.
She lowered her lashes, but didn’t push him away, so he took that as acquiescence.
He began to stroke her through the thin cotton of her panties. She met his gaze, and he smiled when more colour flooded her cheeks. He loved her innocence—she’d been like this in Fiji, wide-eyed and half-shocked most of the time…Toby, what do you think you’re doing, we can’t possibly…until her passion had overtaken her, and then she’d met him thrust for thrust and sigh for sigh. He’d loved pushing her boundaries, encouraging her to explore her sexuality with him. It had turned him on, and the mere thought of what they’d got up to in the Pacific paradise now made him hard.
“Close your eyes,” he said, kissing her cheeks, the heat there burning his lips. She did as he bid, although her body remained tense, her hands against his chest as if she might push him away at any moment.
He stroked her a little more firmly, pressing his fingers gently into her soft folds through the thin cotton. “Just relax,” he whispered, and covered her mouth with his, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She made a little sound deep in her throat as she kissed him back, and then she obviously decided to give in, because she melted against him, her body turning soft and yielding in his arms.
“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 f
rom 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 w
armth. 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?”
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