by Judy Jarvie
“That’s thoughtful; thanks for thinking of me. Want to talk over there? It’s hard to hear,” Ailsa offered. “I’m not in a dancing mood.”
“Sure.”
They found a quieter corner and she left Lisa dancing under the giant video screen.
“You really look great, Ailsa,” Greg told her. “Every time I see you on those sofa ads I smile.”
Ailsa mocked hiding from his comment. “Don’t. When the ads come on I run screaming.”
Just then a guy nearby, a little the worse for wear for merriment, turned to Ailsa and let out a whistle. “You’re the girl I dream about from Sofa TV,” he drawled a little too close. He pulled up his t-shirt to show off an expanse of his arm. “Sign me? I want your autograph.”
Ailsa floundered for a painless put down. “I’m busy with an old friend and I don’t have a pen. Sorry.”
“Busy?” said Mr Tipsy treating it as a come-on. “I’d love to get busy with you sometime.”
Ailsa wanted to say, “You’re getting in the way of my view of the man of my dreams. Go, stick your head in a bag.”
Instead she wafted a hand, “I’m going to the loo. I think you may have had enough for tonight.” It was a tried and tested fail proof put-down plan of the past. Only this time it wasn’t working. Tipsy Autograph Hunter headed her off by waiting near the ladies.
He caught her arm and kept his fingers there. “Why don’t we go somewhere nicer together? More private like my place?” Ailsa would rather opt for Forestry evening class. Her list’s item number four was happening with a dismal drunk who wouldn’t take defeat nicely.
Over his shoulder Ailsa could see Greg approaching to do the gallant thing. He stood beside Mr Letchy and quietly told him nicely to back up. Being a man-hunter really wasn’t what worth the hype. She should have stuck with the man who’d helped her start the list and avoided the baying monsters and werewolves.
“I don’t mean to insult you I’m sure you’re lovely,” she told him as the guy stepped back, swaying on the spot.
“Don’t see a ring, gorgeous, so I won’t give up without a fight.”
Greg was at the man’s elbow now and Ailsa felt panic at fearing a showdown.
A voice came from behind them and it was dark and deadly. “You heard the lady. She’s busy. And as flattering as your attention is, best call it a night.”
She saw Nick standing behind them with eyes like flashing steel and fast reflexes. It made Ailsa’s world spin. His face forewarned thunder in an urban dictionary definition of the phrase ‘don’t mess or you’ll regret it’.
First he directed his wrath at the drunk. “Leave her alone, you drunken fool. Get your hands off her too, if you know what’s good for you,” he warned Greg.
“Don’t be insulting. Greg is a friend.”
“A friend who’s being rather too familiar.”
“Who’s this?” Greg whispered softly to Ailsa. “Want me to get rid of this one too? You have more followers than a Facebook page offering free money.”
“It’s okay,” Ailsa whispered. “This one’s safe. He’s a bit protective but it’s nothing I mind about. In fact I should’ve been more appreciative of him before I came here.”
In seconds Nick reached out for her. He brought her against him and thrust his fingers in her hair. He looked into her eyes deeply and his lips made direct contact with hers. He kissed her, then deepened his tongue’s exploration. It was a movie kiss in glorious HD.
And despite the fact that they had an audience Ailsa enjoyed it hugely; she lost herself in her grabbed chance of connection. Those lips could kiss some; even when incensed and defending her honour.
“Kiss me all you want to,” Ailsa rasped when he tried to resurface. Like a Rolls Royce with only a tiny bit of encouragement he resumed his role with consummate ease and proficiency, ready to grant her request.
If she had talked she would have been saying, “I’ve wronged you and I like you more than you know. I should have realised what a shallow, stupid idiot I’ve been. The list’s history. Say I haven’t blown it?”
But her tongue was occupied; kissing with this most wonderful man.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I know when I’m not wanted,” said Tipsy Guy. “You didn’t need to spell it out with kissing cabaret. I’m going to the bar.”
Greg left them to it. “You remind me of Kirsty; you know how to get a man’s attention. I didn’t mind that much either when she worked the magic on me.”
“You only had to say push off,” the drunk muttered as he disappeared.
“Don’t stop. He might come back again,” Ailsa encouraged Nick. “I’m sorry I upset you. It was only harmless fun between girls.” Ailsa tried Snow White eyes. Nick made a very good dominating, dark and brooding huntsman.
“As long as you pay the price and realise that the only man allowed to see you home tonight is me I can live with it.”
***
Nick let his eyes travel up the sexy, close fitting boots, to her fantasy-inspired figure, her exceptional assets in that dress. The sassy new hair. With a package that cute he could easily forgive Ailsa for most things.
Even driving him crazy.
“Sorry,” said Ailsa. “Thanks for intervening. I just seized the moment to try to say sorry in the best way I knew.”
“I didn’t like the look of that guy as soon as I saw him,” said Nick.
Ailsa shook her head quickly, “Second rate sharks like him aren’t a threat. I’m so very sorry about earlier. Sorry I upset you.”
Ailsa secured a secluded couple of seats where they could chat in the corner of the bar and beckoned him. “I’d better go and tell Lisa. Bag these seats and give me a tick…”
“I wouldn’t worry,” said Nick nodding towards where she’d left Lisa. “The shark’s already moved in. And he’s circling for the kill already.”
“Oh no. I’d better rescue her,” said Ailsa thinking of the piranha drunk.
“I wouldn’t bother.”
Ailsa looked around, fearing Tipsy Patience Tester on the rebound for Lisa. The shark this time was Andy doing his puppy eyes as Lisa lapped up every second of upper hand.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“The list,” Nick ventured. “Is it true?” he drummed the bar table.
Ailsa nodded. Then went into her handbag and handed it to him. “I’d told Lisa I’d be spontaneous this year. Break my boring mould. I thought this would give me a blueprint.”
“So I’ve been sacked?” Nick’s eyes accused her.
“Of course not.”
“Then we don’t need a list.” He took it, tore it in two then threw it away.
“If sex on the kitchen table is an all time lifelong must do, then as the Instructor I’m the one setting the training schedule.”
Ailsa looked shocked and then impressed. “But I thought you were passing through?”
“I’ll make sure you get a grounding.” He said it like a Spartan soldier accepting battle instructions.
They sat in stunned silence absorbing the revelation. Nick’s fingers ceased drumming and hovered over hers.
“I don’t give my consent or my acceptance of terms lightly. I mean to do this justice. But I won’t continue if you think you can do this better on your own. And I won’t tolerate other partners.”
“I don’t want to do this like a manhunt. You disapprove of me, don’t you?”
“Oh I approve, just not of making it seem like it’s a public event.”
Nick watched her sagely, let himself itch to trace the line of her collar with the tip of his index finger. “I watched Jake’s Mum let her reputation slide stringing men along. For years it drove me crazy for Jake. I guess tonight you pushed my scarlet button. Def con touchy.”
“Oh Nick,” said Ailsa. Her expression showed regret.
Nick watched her, “I’d far rather you only dress like that for me too.”
“At dinner I figured we were over.”
Nick raised a brow, “You’ll make it up to me when it’s just the two of us?”
Ailsa nodded. “Name your punishment.”
“Fancy letting me devise the instruction process? That way it’ll be a surprise; keep you keen?” He sipped his beer to appear cool but inside he felt his body went crazy just being near this woman. That had just never happened before.
“Definitely,” said Ailsa. “My list wasn’t that good.”
“Mine will rock your world. What are we sitting here for? Let’s get started.” He took her hand in his and rose from his seat.
“Another thing,” Ailsa added, pulling him back to seated and giving him a Bad Cop grilling. “You need to apologise to your sister.”
Nick looked guilty. “That bad tonight?”
“Give her some credit. Her business deserves a second chance; you should be proud of her, not dissuading her into leaving. If she wants to stay and give it a chance, let her try.”
Nick took her hand and gently kissed the back of it. “I’ve been hasty. And speaking of haste -”
She watched Nick walk back to Greg and talk to him. At first she was wary of reprisals but moments later they were laughing and Nick was slapping Greg’s back.
Nick stalked back and pulled on his jacket. “Thanking your ally; seems a decent guy.”
“Not as impressive as my instructor. Let’s go,” she ordered. And they did.
Chapter Nine
Ailsa joined Nick in his hotel room. He’d told her he’d be moving next day to Sally’s flat above her restaurant which had just been refurbished. Sally loved the changes to her home and had her mind now set on making a go of her business herself.
From the instant the hotel suite door shut behind them they couldn’t suppress their desire to get Nick’s new regime underway. They didn’t find a light switch. No time to lose.
Clothes came off between frenzied kisses as bodies bumped, collided and pushed. Mouths met time after exquisite time. Tongues tasted like they’d endured an enforced famine and this was a banquet feast conclusion. Ears were nibbled, necks ravished.
Ailsa revelled and coaxed him back for more exploration.
His eyes scorched hers when he stalled her fingers on his shirt buttons.
“Your previous list mentioned strip tease. It’s a good place to start.”
Again her fingers went to his buttons and she grinned. “Nice idea.” She hummed the famous stripper theme as her fingers nimbly plucked the button open on his shirt.
“Ah – no.” Nick’s firm fingers stopped her in her tracks.
“Not me. You.”
He switched on the lights and dimmed them. “You. Striptease. For me. And I want to watch everything as you take your time.”
Ailsa felt a warm meltdown of desire unfurl deep inside her. “You’re not serious?”
“Never been more so.” He kicked off his shoes. “A student has to participate to learn.”
He lay back on his sofa and watched her with jet marble eyes. He held his jaw braced against the sofa arm with a thumb and long finger. Nick raised a brow. “What more encouragement do you need? Ready for the challenge?”
She could see his arousal against the sleek smooth bulge of his trousers.
Ailsa gulped. “Striptease needs music. Don’t I even get practice?”
“Ad lib. Creative license. I’m sure you’ll give it gusto.”
Nick nodded to the remote on his coffee table, stretching for it he flicked it on. A slow pulsing beat began; chill-out music with a throbbing bass beat. It could have been designed for lust. He undid his shirt sleeves as she stood staring, mind racing.
“Shall we begin?”
Ailsa couldn’t back down now. She slid off her coat.
He’d shown her the way. He was her instructor; his rules set the beat. She wanted to please him, didn’t she? Especially when her just reward was him.
Ailsa turned her back and began to undress.
Hoping for provocative. Slow. Inch by delicious inch. When inside everything was fired up and melting fast.
She rocked her hips to the beat. Let her head fall back and undid her hair from its clasp and let it fall and swing.
“How’s this?”
“Don’t spoil it with back-chat.”
She turned to watch him and wink.
Again she closed her eyes and swayed. She turned and pointed to Nick. Touched her own breasts Madonna style and smiled. Then she slowly undid her shirtdress buttons. One at a time, a beat at a time, she let the dress fall slowly down her arms to the floor as if it were a velvet cape. She moaned deep in her throat for theatricality. She saw Nick gulp.
Ailsa stepped out and away from the dress then kicked it. She was standing in only underwear and her chunky agate necklace. The music began to build.
Ailsa tapped a foot then wrapped a leg around a nearby standard lamp. Who knew modern lighting could have pole dance possibilities?
The only way to play this was to fake the Madame attitude with sass to match.
“You like striptease shows, Mr Palmer?” she whispered and made sure her hair was tousled and bed-me style.
“I do when you’re the one taking the floor.” His voice was rusty.
“Ever been to a strip club?”
“You really want to know the answer?”
She smiled. A long pause lingered between them.
“Have you?” she whispered. “Now I wish I had so I’d know what to do. I’ve never studied burlesque beyond watching Lisa dancing at weddings.”
Nick narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t break the spell. You were doing so well.”
“I wish I was wearing long gloves.”
“I wish you were wearing nothing but the jewellery.”
She went towards him. Slipped off her bra straps as she went.
She shimmied and unclipped it behind her but didn’t let it go.
“Next time I’m in town I’ll bear the gloves fetish in mind and buy you a pair.” His eyes glittered with promise. “You’re doing fine, just stop the talking. Concentrate on the underwear,” he said with a ragged voice. “Leave the stockings and necklace, I like them,” he told her.
She grinned and turned right in front of him. She took the bra away with a deft move then dangled it in front of him.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this, it’s not so very hard.”
“Wanna bet?” he answered on a half growl and grabbed her.
***
Ailsa had managed to remove her sexy lingerie a lot slower than Nick did. But my it felt much better coming off when the man she wanted most was watching every move so intently and devouring her with his mouth.
Eventually when she wore nothing but her knickers and suspenders and was holding her breasts coyly behind her hands on his lap, Nick told her, “Black lace suits you. Naked’s better.”
His mouth was on hers, then her torso, scouring every inch in case he’d missed a bit.
Ailsa’s instruction that night did everything to confirm her ‘brand new approach’ had taken hold and she loved this new life path.
She felt wanton. Excited beyond her dreams. She made love astride him – feeling filled and desirous to half crazed. Ready for anything he might suggest as she sat on his lap trying to fight for breath in the wake of shattering orgasm. It felt good too to have someone take charge, even when supposedly she was in control of him. He had the power to do that. Make him at her mercy. Was that the influence of ‘The List’ or ‘The Man’?
She watched his eyes burn with need. Ailsa revelled in making love to him on the sofa. This time she tasted him and truly felt in control.
“I want you so bad,” he told her.
She wore her necklace through their love-making, enjoying the cool feel of the stone against her décolletage.
Even as she was spent and panting again she still needed more of him.
Ailsa bit her lip. “I want you again.”
She felt brazen, adventurous. In need of this op
portunity to prove her sensual side’s depth.
“We have all night.”
His urgent desire was pressing against her sensitive warmth and it delighted her he could respond to her so quickly.
Nick lifted her bodily around him, held her aloft, legs entwined around him and body flush against his hardness.
“More please,” she murmured. “In bed now.”
“Patience,” he whispered hoarsely.
Then he carried her to his bed.
Nick removed all of his clothes and stood before her his full glory evident and a dark fire in his eyes that said this time, it would be all night.
Ailsa was never more certain of wanting something so much.
“Come to me,” he said and laid her down to love her.
***
When they woke next morning they made love again. Tried adding a few new approaches to Ailsa’s Seduction education.
“This isn’t a good idea is it?” Ailsa told him between kisses.
“Don’t stop me now. I’m having the best time I’ve had since I got here.”
He grinned. He looked wonderfully dishevelled and gorgeously unshaven.
“We’ll be working together. I thought we were staying sensible.”
“After last night sense went out of the window,” he told her. “We’ll make it work out. And as it happens I want to be near you. I can’t get my fill.”
Ailsa considered his words.
They talked; whispering in the dawning light. Not paying attention to the fact that neither of them had got sufficient sleep. It didn’t seem to matter.
For now she was grateful to have Nick Palmer so intent on proving himself. She was lucky indeed.
Until the sound of a mobile phone ringing for attention drew her sharply back to reality.
“Interruption is such a passion killer,” she said on a whisper. “I guess that’s a pitfall of falling for a man who runs a global company.”
Nick shook his head and rose to fetch her coat. It’s not my phone.
The ringing must have gone to answer mode but started ringing again moments later.
Ailsa narrowed her eyes against the glare of the screen. “It’s Lisa. What does she want?”
She pressed redial but her face fell when it connected.
