“Tell me again,” he demanded.
“I want you, God, can’t you tell?”
Her muscle burned, and she squirmed at the exquisite torture, her knees automatically widening until she’d opened right up to him, sprawled on the sofa, devoid of dignity and resistance. Jesus, could she be any more submissive? At some point she’d stopped playing an active role in this sex game. He could do whatever he wished to her and she’d be powerless to stop him.
Fuck if that wasn’t the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced.
“When you’re with me, you won’t ever look at another man,” he said fiercely, pumping so hard she thought he might drill her into the sofa.
“I won’t, I swear.” She was panting now.
“You’re mine. Say it,” he snapped.
“I’m yours.” A tear ran down her face and her heart ached at the reality of the words. This so wasn’t a game. “I’ve only ever been yours.” Her nipples were so sensitive she could have screamed, and her whole body throbbed hungrily, desperate for release.
His thrusts grew gentler, as if he could sense her heartfelt emotion, and he squeezed his fingers where they linked with hers. “Okay, baby, here it comes. Get ready.” He released her hand, whacked her butt hard and then slipped his fingers beneath her to press on her clit.
She clenched as her skin stung from the spank and came immediately, and he exclaimed out loud as he erupted into her at the same time. She squealed, shocked at the intensity of the orgasm, squashed beneath him as he pushed her down hard into the cushions and continued to thrust until he’d completely emptied into her.
Her muscles pulsed and pulsed, and when she’d finally finished she lay there in an exhausted heap until he lifted himself off and collapsed onto the sofa beside her.
He pulled her into his arms. “Fucking hell.” His glazed eyes studied her with awe. “You are incredible, Esther Tyler.”
She buried her face in his neck. “Oh God, don’t.” How embarrassing. She’d completely unravelled in his arms. He was right—she was the world’s biggest whore.
He kissed her hair. “Look at me.”
“No.” She’d rather die.
He forced her chin up. His warm eyes caressed her. “You’re fantastic, you know that?”
“You too.” Her cheeks burned, and he smiled and kissed them.
Then he stretched out, and she curled up against him, comforted by the tightness of his arm around her.
Outside, a kiwi called in the bush as their breathing slowed and the sweat cooled on their skin. Her thoughts drifted hazily—brief replays of the sights and sensations she’d just experienced mingled with the thoughts and emotions spiralling through her. I’m yours, she’d said, and the truth had brought tears to her eyes. But she’d only said it in the passion of the moment. It was all part of the role she’d been playing. Wasn’t it?
After a while, he shifted onto his side, propping his head on a hand so he could study her.
“Hey,” he said, smiling.
“Hey.” She couldn’t stop the shy blush that crept over her cheeks. “You’d make a terrible slave.”
He chuckled. “Is that a complaint? Did you not enjoy it?”
She shrugged but couldn’t stop her mouth curving in a smile.
He kissed her. “I didn’t hurt you?” Worry flickered across his face.
“No, of course not.” She loved his rough play, but she also adored how he could be so gentle sometimes. Then she rubbed her butt. “My ass is sore though.” He pulled her forward to look at it, and she frowned at his wince. “What?”
“There may be a handprint on it.”
“Jeez,” she said. He pulled an eek face and she rolled her eyes. “A bit late for guilt now.”
“Sorry, honey. You do strange things to me. You make me all…” He shifted uncomfortably.
“Horny?”
“Hah. That too. But I was going to say ‘forceful’. I don’t know why. I’m not like that normally.” His lips twisted wryly.
“Funny, because I don’t think I’m submissive outside the bedroom either.”
He snorted. “No. Definitely not.” He smiled and kissed her. “I guess that makes us pretty well matched between the sheets.”
She wasn’t going to think about that. Reaching up a hand, she scraped the pads of her fingers along his bristles, pondering on how he’d nearly had a change of heart. “Are you glad you didn’t take me back now?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“What?” She was surprised to see the sad look return to his face.
“I’m sorry.” His brown eyes looked troubled.
“What about?” she said, genuinely puzzled.
“I know I have no right to be possessive. I shouldn’t have said that to you about not looking at another man. I know I’m being an idiot.” He was clearly uncomfortable with the way he’d acted.
“It’s okay,” she said lightly, determined not to make it into an issue. “We were role-playing. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of passion.”
“I guess.”
“For example,” she added, somewhat mischievously, “I’m hoping you don’t really think I’m a whore.”
He grinned and tipped his head from side to side in a “maybe I do, maybe I don’t” kind of gesture.
She smacked his arm, and he caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “Like I said,” he continued, his voice low and husky, “you’re my whore. That’s completely different.”
Her heart rate increased at his emphasis on the word “my”. In spite of his apology, it had a ring of possessiveness about it. But then it made sense, didn’t it? She was the mother of his child, and even though they weren’t involved as such, he wouldn’t necessarily want her going off with other guys under his nose. Yes, it might be a bit dog-in-the-manger, but she could understand it. She wouldn’t want him dating other girls in front of her either.
Although, of course, he would date again, and soon probably. Next time she saw him, whether he came down to Christchurch or Dunedin or wherever she ended up going, he’d probably have a partner. Perhaps he’d bring her with him to meet his son. This girlfriend would want to please Toby, so she’d probably fuss over Charlie and spoil him rotten. And he’d put his arm around her and be all pleased and kiss her, and then…
Esther blinked at the disturbing images. There was no point in worrying about the future. So much could happen in the meantime. Maybe she’d meet someone else too, and then when Toby visited with his girlfriend, the four of them could go out together.
Depression settled over her, and her shoulders slumped. Way to go, Esther. Thinking about meeting the next guy when she was still in bed with the present one. What a ho. And anyway, she didn’t want to meet anyone else. The thought of another man touching her repulsed her.
She caught her breath. The statement may have been true, but the notion shocked her. So what was she saying—she wanted to remain single for the rest of her life? Didn’t she ever want to settle down, get married? Provide Charlie with a father who could be around all the time?
Her chest tightened at the thought. Toby was Charlie’s father. She didn’t ever want another man claiming that relationship, and neither, she suspected, would Toby.
“What?” A frown appeared between his eyes as her body tensed.
“Nothing.” She pushed herself up off the sofa. “Come on, we’d better get going and pick up Charlie. He’s probably driving poor Cath around the bend.”
He caught her wrist as she went to stand and pulled her toward him. She fell onto his chest, her hair tumbling around him.
“Hey,” she protested.
He looked deeply into her eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She tried to push herself up again.
“Esther…”
“Let me go.” She whacked him, irritated at her feelings. “I don’t have to explain every little thought that goes through my head.”
“True.” He relea
sed her and watched her collect her clothes and walk through to the bedroom.
She dressed quickly in the jeans and T-shirt she’d arrived in, fighting back tears, then grabbed his comb from the table and tugged it through her hair. This was stupid. They were supposed to be having fun—there was no point in going on with the Naughty Nights game if she was going to get all deep and meaningful every time they had sex.
She slipped on her sandals and turned, catching her breath automatically at the sight of him leaning against the doorjamb. She pressed a hand to her chest. “You made me jump.”
He said nothing. He’d dressed and looked hot and sexy with his ruffled, fucked-you-five-minutes-ago hair. His intense gaze made her heart continue to pound at the thought of how commanding he’d been, and how easily he’d controlled her desire, arousing her at his own pace. Against her will, muscles deep inside her clenched.
She walked toward him crossly, intending to slip past him.
He put an arm up onto the other side of the doorway as she reached him, forcing her to stop. His other hand slid to her hip, and he pushed her against the wall, towering over her, intimidating with his superior height and the breadth of his shoulders.
“It’s time to go,” she said, and swallowed.
“Don’t over-think it,” he murmured as if he hadn’t heard her. “It’s just sex.”
Something in his slightly distant gaze made her think he wasn’t talking to her. Was he trying to convince himself?
He lowered his head and kissed her, a sweet, lingering, gentle kiss that nevertheless made her heart pound and her knees weak as she wondered if he was going to start all over again. But he lifted his head and gave her a slight, sad smile before turning and taking her hand to lead her to the front door. “Come on,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Let’s go and get our son.”
Chapter Thirty
“No,” Faith said for the eleventh time. “Still not right.”
Esther gritted her teeth and stared at her reflection in the shop mirror. “What’s wrong with this one? I like the colour.”
“Yeah, the green’s nice, but it’s just not…I don’t know. What do you think?” Faith quirked a brow at Eve.
The two girls were sitting on a bench in the women’s changing rooms, assessing Esther’s choice of dress every time she came out of the cubicle.
“No,” Eve agreed. “It’s not The One.”
“I want to wear it, not marry it,” Esther grumbled as she returned to the changing room. It had been a tiring, frustrating afternoon. The two friends had taken her to Whangarei, a small city an hour from Kerikeri with a couple of department stores and lots of boutique dress shops, to look for an outfit for Esther to wear to the wedding on Saturday. So far, however, they’d disagreed with everything she’d tried on, and her patience was wearing thin. Shopping was not her favourite activity.
“What’s next?” Faith called.
“I’m through this lot. I might have one more look on the racks,” Esther called back. She slipped on her jeans and vest, glad she hadn’t worn anything thicker. It was even more humid than usual, in spite of the fact that March would have its autumnal claws on the country farther south.
She came out carrying the half a dozen items she’d already tried, and the two girls took them from her. “We’ll hang these back up,” Eve said. “You go see if there’s anything else out there that takes your fancy.”
“I feel guilty doing this,” Esther protested, not for the first time. “I should be helping you shop, not the other way around.”
“I told you—I have everything I need for the big day,” Eve said. “Besides, I want to see Toby’s eyes light up when you walk through the door in the right outfit.”
Faith gave Eve a sharp nudge in the ribs and she winced. Esther looked away. As much as she kept trying to tell herself she wasn’t dressing up for Toby, she couldn’t deny that every time she put on a dress, her first thought was “Will he like it?” It made her both excited and sad at the same time.
She wandered into the shop, disconsolate, not wanting to think about the future. The purpose of this expedition was to buy an outfit for a wedding, and she wouldn’t think any further than that.
Browsing slowly, she tried to think about nothing except the clothes and what might look good on her figure. The trouble was that she hated dressing up and felt uncomfortable in anything too fancy. Faith and Eve had got her to try on all manner of flouncy gowns, but nothing had fitted right. But what else could she wear to a wedding? She wanted something special—something she felt at ease in.
She picked up a cream two-piece that had a nice shimmer to it, and a short black dress that was a little staid but had some pretty shaping around the collar, as well as a burgundy-coloured longer dress that had a rather boring top but a pretty flowing skirt. She couldn’t imagine either of the two girls would approve of any of them, but she was getting tired and didn’t have the stamina for many more shops.
And then her gaze fell on a dress at the back of a rack. There was only one, but she pulled it out and saw it happened to be in her size. What luck! She held it up and caught her breath. It had a halter neck, a mermaid-style flare at mid-thigh and reached to a few inches below her knees. The label declared the colour as “hunter”, a deep turquoise, slightly more green than blue. The label also told her it was made of “elastic woven satin”, and she could see it would cling to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. She wouldn’t be able to wear a stitch under it.
Toby would love it.
She bit her lip and her hand hovered over the rack, ready to put it back. It wasn’t her at all. She shouldn’t choose something just because Toby would like it.
But Eve’s words rang in her ears: I want to see Toby’s eyes light up when you walk through the door in the right outfit. She wanted to see that too, she thought, hating herself for thinking it, but honest enough with herself to admit it. And anyway, what was wrong with it really? Perhaps he’d realise what he’d turned his back on all those years ago. Stubbornness surged through her, and she folded the dress over her arm. Maybe he’d have to accept he’d done the wrong thing in deciding not to see her again. That would serve him right.
Faith and Eve were sitting on the bench when she returned to the changing rooms. She locked the cubicle and tried the cream two-piece on first, bursting into giggles as she realised she couldn’t get the buttons done up over her boobs. She came out to show the others and they all giggled when Eve said, “Yeah, that’ll get him going!”
She went back into the cubicle, removed the cream suit and took the turquoise dress off the hanger. She hesitated for a moment, then removed her bra before slipping the dress over her head. It fell past her knees in a rustle of satin, cool on her skin as she zipped up the back. She smoothed her hands down it, liking the sensual feel of the material. She could imagine the way Toby’s eyes would widen when he realised she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. How his eyes would darken when he pulled her to him and ran his hands over her butt…
“Come on,” Faith said impatiently. “Don’t be a chicken—show us.”
Esther opened the door hesitantly, hoping the two girls wouldn’t pull a face and declare she’d made a mistake again. To her delight, approval lit their faces immediately.
“Wow!” Eve jumped up and came over to her. “Oh my God, Esther, that looks fabulous.”
“You think?” Esther twirled in front of the mirror, and the mermaid skirt fanned out.
“Absolutely,” Faith grinned. “The best yet. Jeez, you have a fantastic figure—that fabric really shows it off.”
“And the colour’s perfect,” Eve added.
Esther smiled shyly. She opened her mouth to ask whether they thought Toby would like it, but stopped herself at the last minute. She didn’t want them to know how much she longed for his approval and admiration.
As Eve carried the unused items back to the rails, however, Faith leaned forward and whispered, “He’ll love it, no question, Esther. Grea
t choice.”
Esther’s cheeks grew warm, and she dropped her gaze as she slipped back into the cubicle to change. But she couldn’t deny the glow of pleasure that spread through her at Faith’s words.
Their purchases complete, the girls made their way to a nearby coffee shop and treated themselves to a latte and a muffin to keep their strength up.
“I’m going to get big as an elephant,” Faith muttered as she tucked in to hers. “Rusty says we must be having sextuplets because I’m eating enough for seven.”
Esther pulled a face. “Make the most of it—it’s the only time you can have a really good excuse for eating.”
Faith sighed and put down the muffin. “And now I need to pee. The delights of being pregnant. ’Scuse.” She shuffled out of her seat and nipped down to the Ladies’.
Esther exchanged a polite, somewhat awkward smile with Eve as they sipped their coffee. Eve lowered her lashes, examining the chocolate muffin on her plate, and Esther decided to put her out of her misery. “Toby told me about you two,” she said.
Eve blushed to the roots of her blonde hair. “Oh crap. I’m sorry.”
Immediately Esther regretted mentioning it. “Oh God, don’t worry about it. I probably shouldn’t have said anything—I just thought it was bothering you.”
“Not in the way you might think.” Eve drew in the foam of her latte with a spoon. “It was so long ago, Esther, I was only eighteen. And I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember much. He was…convenient, and that’s a terrible thing to say and not fair on him at all. I just needed comfort, and he happened to be there.”
Jealousy surged through her Esther, and she bit her lip. “I understand.”
Eve’s frowned. “I’m not sure you do. It didn’t mean anything, and I know he feels the same. At the time we all joked about it, but we’ve never mentioned it since to each other. I thought you may have heard and, well, I’d hate you to think I was jealous or something, because really, I’m not. I’m marrying Dan, and I’m crazy about him. Toby and I are just friends.” She spoke earnestly.
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