“Faith!” Her brother looked horrified.
“What?” She felt a rush of exasperation. “I’m not sixteen anymore, Dan. I’m twenty-two, for God’s sake. And I’m hardly a virgin.”
He looked across at Eve. “Help me, please.”
Eve grinned. “Come on, Faith, spill the beans. We won’t tell anyone.”
Normally, Faith would have told her roommate all the gory details. But this time she was going to have to work through it on her own. “I’m not ready to talk about him, not yet. It’s a new relationship. Nothing to do with you. I want to keep him to myself for a while.” She could feel Rusty’s eyes on her, burning on her skin like lasers, but she didn’t look at him.
Dan looked at Toby and then at Rusty. “Come on guys, talk some sense into her.”
Rusty shrugged and cleared his throat. “I think we should mind our own business—I’m sure Faith knows what she’s doing.”
“Well you’re a big help.” Dan glared at him. “Toby?”
Toby gave her a wistful look. “I’m just sorry it’s not me.” He held up his hands as Dan shot him a glance. “What? I’m saying it’s not!”
Dan was growing increasingly frustrated. “Look, we all watch out for each other. It’s what we do.” He gave her a pleading glance. “Don’t do this, love. Talk to me about it first. You know I worry about you.”
“Dan, I was at university for three years, you didn’t seem that bothered about my sex life then.”
“Absolutely I was, but anyway, that was different.”
“Why?”
“Because this is…” he shivered, “…creepy.”
Faith laughed. “It’s really not. Sweetie, there’s no need to worry. I wouldn’t pick any old guy. He’s nice. You’d like him.”
“I want to rip his head off.”
She said nothing, aware of Rusty shifting in his seat to her right.
Dan studied her sulkily. “Are you going to be careful?”
She closed her eyes. “Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”
“I feel it’s my responsibility to remind you about having safe sex.”
Rusty cleared his throat again. “Come on Dan, give her a break. Any guy worth his salt will follow the edict of the President of the USA.”
Dan raised an eyebrow. “Which is what?”
“Always come with protection.”
Faith giggled. She pressed her lips together as Dan glared at her. “Relax. I’ll bring my own, just in case.”
“It’s not a laughing matter.” He was beginning to look angry, and that made her cross.
She stood up. “Dan, stop it. You may act like it, but you’re not my father.”
“I’m the closest thing you’ve got, and you will listen to me.”
Fury flared in her stomach. “I won’t. I don’t have to do what you say. I’m desperate for sex, I’m going to meet Beau, and I’m going to screw his socks off over the weekend. Deal with it.”
Rusty coughed into his Coke. Luckily, everyone else was so shocked at her statement that nobody noticed his reaction. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to turn and look at him.
She glared at her brother instead. “I’m a grown woman now, Dan. I appreciate that you want to look out for me. But I don’t need babying anymore. So back off.” And she walked out of the house, banging the front door behind her.
They all watched her go. Eve looked up at Dan, who heaved a sigh. “You handled that well,” she said.
Dan swore and kicked the rubbish bin, sending it skittering across the floor. “She’ll be snotty with me for days now.”
“I’ll check she’s okay,” said Rusty. He walked outside to her car, closing the door to the house first. She’d just got in, but she pressed the button to lower the window as he came over.
“Hey.” He ducked down and leaned on the windowsill.
“Hey.” She met his gaze before she looked away and slid the key into the ignition.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“He means well.”
“I know. I wish I hadn’t said that about him not being my father. I just wish he saw me as a grown up, not a kid anymore.” She looked sad.
“I don’t see you as a kid, if that helps.”
She glanced up at him. Her lips curved.
“And I can see right down your front from this angle,” he pointed out.
She gave him an exasperated look but laughed nevertheless.
He grinned. “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“I’ve booked us in to Seaview Lodge in Paihia, you know, the one on the seafront?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll meet you there? Around seven?”
“Sounds good. Are you really going to screw my socks off?”
“You’d better believe it, buster.” Her large brown eyes were hot with desire. She lowered her lids and said, “I’m going to go now.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood and watched her put the car into drive. Then he called, “Hey, Hillman?”
“Yeah?”
He bent forward again and said softly, “You bring gay porn, I’m walking straight out.”
“Sure thing,” she said seriously. But she was laughing as she drove away.
At half past six on Saturday, Faith’s hands shook as if there were an earthquake in her stomach while she unpacked her bag in the room of the motel. This is ridiculous. At this rate, Rusty wouldn’t be able to get near her for the aftershocks. Her heart pounded, and her palms were damp. She wished she’d remembered to bring some wine, but as Rusty didn’t drink, she hadn’t even thought about it.
At least the room was nice. She’d been worried a standard motel room would feel tacky, so she’d booked a deluxe suite, and to her delight, it had a view across the Bay of Islands, a large room with a king-size bed, and a huge sunken tub in the bathroom that looked very tempting.
She’d arrived early but now wished she hadn’t, as the waiting was stretching her nerves to breaking point. She checked her appearance in the mirror a final time. She wore a plum-coloured short-sleeved fitted blouse with a long, light, black skirt, and underneath she had a set of expensive, black lacy underwear she’d invested in for this very purpose. She’d clipped her long brown hair up loosely, letting tendrils curl around her neck, and had applied the simplest of make-up, just a little eyeliner and mascara, and a slick of lip gloss. She’d shaved her legs, moisturised, put on perfume, eaten a breath mint—in fact done everything she could think of to make herself irresistible.
Had it worked? She frowned as she looked at her reflection. She would never have described herself as beautiful. She was slightly too tall, her boobs weren’t big enough, her mouth was a little wide, and she had far too many freckles to be anything approaching breathtaking. But she looked as good as she could, and that was the best she could hope for.
She paced the floor, hoping he wouldn’t be late. At ten minutes to seven, however, there was a knock at the door.
Heart pounding, she went over and opened it.
Rusty stood outside, leaning on the doorjamb, dressed in a black, casual short-sleeved shirt hanging loose over jeans, looking so thoroughly edible it made her mouth water. “Hey.” He held up a bottle of wine. “For you.”
Her lips twitched as she took it. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” She backed away and let him in.
He followed her into the room. “Do I need to?”
“No.” She smiled, a little shyly, and put the bottle on the table.
He glanced around the room. “Wow, nice place. I was thinking it might be…”
“Seedy?”
He grinned. “Maybe a little.”
“I didn’t want it to be. I wanted it to be…nice.”
His warm gaze came back to her and fixed on her face before running briefly up and down her. “You look…nice.”
“Thanks. You too.” Her mouth had gone dry. Where on earth were they going to start?
/> He came closer to her and took one of her hands in his. “Are you okay?”
“Nervous, actually.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Want to go for a walk along the beach?”
She felt a wave of relief that he understood how she was feeling, but she hesitated. “I don’t know, should we? What if someone sees us?”
“We’re friends, love. You wouldn’t normally think twice about being seen with me.”
“Yes, but tonight… Half the women in New Zealand know what I’m getting up to.”
“Yes, but they don’t all know what you look like, right? Come on. Just a short walk. I’ll buy you an ice cream.”
“Okay.”
They went out and she locked the door, pocketing the key. The motel was right on the seafront, and he took her hand, led her along the row of shops to the ice cream bar and bought them both a cone.
They crossed over the road onto the beach, walking slowly down to the water as they ate their ice creams, and both slipped off their shoes, letting the cool water wash over their feet. Faith lifted her skirt to make sure it didn’t get wet. She saw him glance at her legs, but he didn’t say anything.
Was this just too weird? Usually they talked non-stop about all sorts of things, but now they were hardly speaking. She was conscious that he was one of her best friends. But, although she knew him well, she was also intensely aware of him next to her as she had never been before, his bare arm inches away from hers, as if he were magnetic and she were made of iron, inexorably drawn to him.
They reached a pohutukawa tree that overhung the beach, still heavy with its red Christmassy flowers and, finishing off his ice cream, he ducked under the branches and walked up to the trunk. She followed him, heart pounding as he indicated for her to turn around and face him. Dropping his shoes, he pushed her backward and she moved until her back was against the tree.
“What’s up?” He spoke gently, his eyes warm as if they’d captured some of the evening’s summer sun.
“Nothing.”
“You’ve hardly spoken.”
Some of the rapidly melting ice cream ran onto her fingers and she licked them. His eyes followed her tongue, and she stopped and swallowed. “That’s what’s up.”
“What?”
“You’re looking at me like…”
He smiled slowly. “Like what?”
Her eyes met his. He was so gorgeous, he took her breath away. She wanted to smear the ice cream all over him and lick it off. “You know perfectly well what like. And it’s weird. This is how Lois Lane must have felt when she found out Clark Kent was Superman. It’s like, I know you so well but suddenly I feel I hardly know you at all.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m not wearing my underpants over tights for anyone.”
She was too nervous to smile. “Rusty…”
“Are you having second thoughts?” He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You want me to back off?”
Her gaze rested on his lips. She desperately wanted him to kiss her again. “No. God, no. I’m just…nervous.”
He stepped closer to her, until he was almost—but not quite—touching her. “About what?”
“You,” she whispered, heart thudding. “And me. About what we’re going to do.”
He bent his head, his russet hair falling across one eye, and his lips brushed hers softly. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
“Rusty, if I don’t have you tonight, I swear I’m going to die.”
He laughed, slipped a hand behind her head and kissed her properly. She threw the rest of the ice cream away for the seagulls and brought her arms up around his neck. He pressed her to him, his other hand in the small of her back, and she felt him hard against the flat of her stomach.
Somehow, it helped lessen her nerves. She’d worried he was going to become aware she was still Dan’s younger sister and turn awkward, like the day after he’d kissed her on her eighteenth. But the feel of him against her made her realise he wanted her as much as she wanted him. They weren’t kids anymore—they were both adults, and he wanted her more than he was worried about Dan finding out. He wasn’t going to back off. This was really going to happen.
The kiss was the nicest she’d ever had, with the promise of the evening before them, the feel of the sand between her toes and the taste of Rusty’s chocolate ice cream in her mouth. They drew apart reluctantly, but a deep thrill reverberated through her at the thought that things weren’t going to end there. They were going to go back to the motel room, and then…
“Come on.” She couldn’t wait any longer. She picked up her shoes, grabbed his hand and led him, laughing, back across the road.
She let them into the motel room, and he closed and locked the door behind them. He surveyed her with a smile. “Should I sign the contract now?”
The contract—she’d nearly forgotten about that. “Yes, please.” She retrieved it from her bag and spread it on the small dining table. She gave him a pen, expecting him to give a quick scribble at the bottom, but instead he pulled out a chair and sat.
“I’m not signing till I’ve read it. In case you’ve slipped in another clause.”
“Like what?”
“You might want to keep me tied up in your room as a sex slave or something.”
“You want me to cross that one out?”
“I didn’t say that.” Smiling, Rusty put his chin on his hand and read.
Chapter Four
The contract filled one page, and she’d obviously typed it up and printed it herself. Rusty surveyed it with amusement.
I, Richard Henry Thorne (Rusty), agree to help Faith Alison Hillman (Faith) with research for the seven articles on the Seven Sexy Sins.
This research will extend to seven sexual encounters exactly, one sin at a time, no more, no less. After these seven encounters have been completed, the sexual relationship between Rusty and Faith will be terminated.
I promise to answer any questions Faith has relating to the Seven Sexy Sins and my participation in them. I also promise to do whatever she asks during these sexual encounters.
I promise not to disclose this sexual relationship to anyone, and I agree to keep the fact that Beau is my secret identity to myself. This sexual relationship exists only in the arena of the seven encounters—I promise not to let it affect any meeting I might have with Faith and my friends (i.e. no touching Faith up when she’s bending over, etc, even if I think nobody’s looking).
I promise to try my best not to let these seven sexual encounters affect my friendship with Faith when the relationship is over.
Signed:
Date:
Rusty looked up, his eyes meeting Faith’s. She raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
“‘No touching Faith up when she’s bending over’?”
“I thought it best to be clear.”
“Does it sound like something I’d do?”
“Er…yeah.”
“Fair enough.” He looked down at the document and then back up at her. “‘I also promise to do whatever she asks during these sexual encounters’?”
“You have a problem with that?”
“I don’t know. Should I?”
Her smile softened. “All I meant was that I’d be grateful if you’d…keep on track. Not get off topic. Because I have a deadline to meet.”
He nodded. “Okay.” Sighing, wondering what he was letting himself in for, he wrote his name at the bottom and signed it. She took the contract and folded it, slipping it back in her bag.
Their gazes met. He smiled. He could see the pulse pounding in her throat and he knew she was nervous. “Come on.” They stood and he went over to the big TV at the foot of the bed and turned it on with the remote. There was a DVD player to one side and he turned that on, too, beckoning her over. “Okay, what’s up first?”
She pulled a DVD out of the bag. “It’s got to be Ocean’s Eleven Inches. That can’t be real.”
“Wow.” He laughed.
“Absolutely.”
She put the DVD in, turning to look at him. “You…want to get undressed now?”
“Nuh-uh.”
She looked disappointed and relieved at the same time. “No?”
He went over to the kitchen area, undid the bottle of wine and poured her a glass, and got himself a Coke. Then he brought the drinks over to the bedside table and handed her the glass of wine. “Later on, I’ll be more than happy to help you off with your clothes. Now…I think we just need to relax.”
She smiled. “Okay.”
He climbed on the bed, plumped up the pillows and made himself comfortable. He patted the space on his left. Faith moved next to him—and put a clipboard complete with several sheets of paper and a pen beside her.
He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“Well, I’ve got to keep a record.”
He stared at her, startled. “Of what?”
“Length, firmness. Girth.”
“Girth?”
She started laughing. “Rusty, come on. I’m kidding. I’m just going to ask a few questions every now and again.”
“Jeez, Faith…”
Her grin faded as the music started, and she reached hastily for the remote control. “Turn it down…”
He held it away from her. “There’s nobody in the room next to us.”
“You could hear that on the beach a mile away.”
“It just sounds like a bad nineteen seventies disco, don’t worry about it.”
She laughed, turning it down slightly. “It does, a bit.”
“Well, these things aren’t really known for their soundtracks.”
“Or their production values,” she observed, raising an eyebrow at the tacky opening screen. Smirking, he leaned back, his arm along the pillows behind her.
He looked down as she curled up next to him. She sipped her wine, glancing up as she realised he was watching her. “What?”
He smiled. “Nothing.” He didn’t like to say she’d suddenly looked very young. Guilt stabbed him at the thought of what Dan would say if he knew what was going on. But he wasn’t taking advantage of her. She was a grown woman, for Christ’s sake, and she was going to go ahead with this research for her articles with or without him. Surely, she would be better carrying it out with him—a good friend who would look after her—than with some idiot she’d only known for five minutes.
Seven Sexy Sins Page 3
