Just for Fun

by Rosalind James

  “Nah,” Nic answered. “Like you said, it’s just at bedtime. Everybody needs something to cuddle with, at bedtime.” He ruffled Zack’s hair. “Now let’s get on, or I really will have to ring the restaurant.”

  “Devonport, right?” he asked when he had both of them settled in the car.

  “Right,” Emma said. “Just off King Edward Parade, on Church Street. We’re putting you to a lot of trouble. Having to drive over to collect us, then back again and down to Devonport, before we even go out. I could have met you there, I just realized.”

  “Didn’t you know that collecting the girl is one of the best parts of the date? Tip for you,” he told Zack, catching his eye in the rear-view mirror. “This is Boyfriend School, so pay attention.”

  “Are you Mum’s boyfriend?” Zack asked with interest. “I thought you were my friend.”

  “Reckon I’m both, now.”

  “Good,” Zack decided. “Because you’re not a Bad Guy.”

  “Too right,” Nic said firmly. “No more Bad Guys for your mum. She’s done with that.”

  He pulled up outside Lucy and Tom’s flat, the bottom half of a house, one of a group set back from the road. Reached to grab Zack’s backpack. The boy ran ahead to ring the bell, and Nic took the opportunity to tell Emma, “You look gorgeous, by the way. In case I didn’t tell you.”

  “Thanks. I was afraid you’d be angry that I was running late.”

  “Nah. No rush. We have all night.” He smiled down at her as, ahead of them, the door opened, the light falling on Zack’s blond head. “And now’s when I get vetted by the family,” he added. “Bit scary.”

  “Yeah, right,” she smiled back, taking his hand and stepping into the warm flat to give her sister a kiss hello.

  In truth, Nic did feel like he was being checked out. Because no question, Lucy was looking him over critically. And Tom, coming up behind her, was doing the same. The other man’s handshake was firm, his gaze direct. A good bloke, Nic thought at once.

  “Thank you so much for taking Zack tonight,” Emma was telling them. “He’s been looking forward to it.”

  “We’re going to watch something special, on telly,” Tom promised Zack.

  “A film?” Zack asked. “A cartoon?”

  “Nah, mate. Got the final of the last World Cup, on DVD. So you can watch Nic here doing his stuff. Scored the only try in that one, didn’t you?” he asked Nic.

  “I did,” Nic agreed. “But it was the forwards who shone that night, I reckon. Drew was Man of the Match. The only choice, really. Because we wouldn’t have won it without the Skipper. It was too close. Lots of the boys were getting a bit nervy. Not him, though. The hotter it gets, the cooler he stays. Settled everyone right back down, helped us hang on to the end.”

  “You’re known to have a bit of a cool head yourself, though,” Tom said.

  “If I have, I’ve learnt from the best,” Nic assured him.

  “Well, this is all very fascinating,” Lucy broke in. “And I’m sure you boys could stand here and talk rugby all night. But I think you have someplace you’re meant to be, don’t you?”

  Nic laughed. “We do. And your sister’s too pretty to keep waiting about. Got to go show her off to the world. Or to Auckland, anyway.” He shook hands again with Tom and Lucy, gave Zack a quick squeeze around the shoulders, and waited while Emma pulled her son in for a goodnight hug and kiss.

  Outside again, he took Emma’s hand. “My palm’s not sweating,” he told her. “Reckon I am cool, at that. At least on the outside. Think I passed?”

  “You know you did. Good thing you have that instant bonding mechanism.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Tom,” Nic objected. “I meant your sister.”

  “Oh. Lucy.” Emma laughed. “Yeah, she’s a tougher customer. I suspect the probation period will be a little longer, with Lucy.”

  He drove away from the house. Turned a corner. And pulled the car to the side of the road, put it in Park.

  “Why are we stopping? Did you forget something?”

  He turned to her, clicked open his seatbelt, then hers. Put one hand on the side of her face, thumb stroking over her cheek. Then tugged her to him with the other arm and kissed her, feeling her soft little mouth opening under his.

  “Couldn’t wait,” he said, drawing back a little, still caressing her cheek. “We’ve got all night, finally. And a house to ourselves. Time and space for everything we want to do. But first, I’m taking you to dinner. D’you realize we’ve never been on a real date? I’ve never had you dress up for me like this. Never collected you at your house and taken you out. Never walked through a flash restaurant behind you. How many times have we made love? But I’ve hardly even bought you a dinner. Nothing since that hamburger with Zack.”

  “I want to go on a date with you.” She traced the parentheses at the sides of his mouth, her touch delicate against his skin. “I want to go a restaurant with you too. Hold hands under the table. Then have you drive me home. But, Nic.”

  “What?” he asked, his forehead against hers. “What do you want? Anything.” He kissed her cheek, drew back to look at her.

  “Can we make it . . . special? Can we do something special, tonight?”

  “Special how?” He hoped she was talking about what he thought she was talking about.

  “Like . . . something unusual,” she said breathlessly. “Different. Special. The kind of thing we did before. I haven’t done anything like that in so long. Not with anyone but you.”

  He felt the heat go straight to his groin, but forced himself to pause, to think it through. “That wouldn’t scare you, though? After what happened to you?”

  “But it’s not the same at all,” she insisted. “It’s what I told you. This is you. And I can’t stand the idea that what he did could . . . change me. That it could keep me from doing what I want, or keep you from doing what you want. Whatever you want. If you have things you’ve wanted . . .” She hesitated. “Things you’ve wanted to do with me, I want you to do them. If you do, I mean,” she trailed off uncertainly.

  “What did you have in mind?” he asked, his voice sounding a little strained even to himself. “Anything you’d like to try? Maybe you’d like to tie me up, be the one in control for a change. Not my first choice, but I reckon I could live with it. I could sacrifice myself for the good of the cause, eh.”

  “If you want me to,” she said doubtfully. “But it’s not my first choice either. You know I’d rather be more . . .”

  He brushed a hand over her cheek, felt the way she leaned into it. “Yeh. I know how you’d rather be. Lucky for me, because that’s how I like you. That’ll do me. No suggestions for me, then?”

  She shook her head. “I want you to say. I want you to be . . . what you said. In control. If that’s all right with you. If you want to.”

  She was blushing, he could tell, even in the dark. And she already had him well on his way. “Oh, I want to. That’s going to work for me. Have to go to dinner first, though, so I can think about this. Plan something good enough for you.”

  “Yes, please,” she said with a relieved sigh, snuggling up to him, running her hands down his arms. Making him feel like a man, in that way that only she could.

  “Step One,” he decided. “Reach down and pull off those undies for me.”

  “What? Now? Before dinner?” she asked, faltering.

  “Yeh. Before dinner. You’re not going to be needing those anymore. So you can just give them to me right now.”

  “This skirt is short, though,” she objected.

  “Then you’d better be careful how you sit, hadn’t you? So nobody sees but me. Come on, now. Take them off.” He watched in the darkness of the car as she finally reached under her skirt, pulled the wispy material down her legs, over the high heels. He saw her hesitate, held out his hand. “Give them to me. Mine now.”

  He reached across her, shoved them into the glove box. Pulled the key from the ignition to lock them away. “That’s
it, then,” he told her. “That’s us started. Because you don’t get to put those on again till tomorrow.”

  Chapter 28

  She could never remember, afterwards, what they had talked about on their date. Or what she had eaten. Except that he’d watched her take every mouthful. And had held her hand under the table, just as she’d asked. And that she’d looked back at him, had seen that his eyes had that gleam in them again, and had had to restrain herself from asking him to take her home, right now.

  He finished the last bite of potato, set his fork down. She laid her hand over his large brown one, traced slow designs on it as he used his other hand to wipe his mouth with the cloth serviette, then laid it next to his plate.

  “Still hungry?” he asked. “You didn’t finish.”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not hungry, I mean.”

  “D’you want dessert? Coffee?”

  “You’re just teasing me now. You know I don’t.”

  “Maybe I do, though,” he said. “Maybe I’ll ask to look at the menu again.”

  “Nic. Please.”

  “Love how you say that,” he said, the smile in his eyes reaching his mouth at last. “Reckon you’re going to be saying that a few more times, before this night’s over.” He leaned closer on the banquette and whispered in her ear, “How’re you going, down there?”

  She couldn’t help it. She wriggled a little, and he noticed, she could tell.

  He raised a hand for the bill, laid down his credit card. “Maybe I won’t get that sweet after all,” he told her as the waiter took the folder away again. “Because there’s something else I’m going to want tonight. And I need to save a bit of room for it.”

  She felt his eyes on the silk of her skirt, her legs during the walk through the restaurant. He held the door for her, took her hand for the trek to the car.

  “OK walking in those shoes?” he asked. “Because I could still bring the car round. Don’t know how you can do that.”

  “I’m good at walking in heels. Lots of practice. I like them.”

  “Lucky for me. Because I like them too. First time I met you, you were wearing them, remember? I put one of them back on for you. Down there looking at your gorgeous legs, wanting to run my hands right up them.” He threaded his fingers through hers, pulled her a bit closer. “I’ve wanted you from the first moment I met you. And every moment since.”

  “Are you doing this on purpose?” she asked breathlessly.

  “What?”

  “Saying these things. Making me . . .”

  He swung her around, pulled her to him. Bent to give her a kiss that was meant to be brief, there on the busy pavement. It got away from him, though. Heated until he was holding her close against him, feeling her hands around his neck, the abandoned way she was kissing him back, oblivious to the passing pedestrian traffic.

  “What?” he said at last, smiling down into her eyes. “What am I doing to you?”

  “You know,” she breathed. “And you are. You are doing it on purpose. Making me feel like this.”

  They reached the car, and he saw her into it before going around and getting into his own seat. Reached for her again, ran a hand up her inner thigh, all the way to the top. Then his hand stilled.

  “Emma,” he said hoarsely. “Did you get yourself waxed again? Did you do that for me?”

  The heat rose up her throat, into her face, as his hand moved over her. Embarrassment, excitement, nervousness, it was all mixed together. She was so ready, she was afraid that if he kept touching her like that, she was going to orgasm right here. “You seemed to like it last time,” she said uncertainly. “I thought you did.”

  “Oh, I do.” One hand was around her waist, reaching under her, lifting her for him, while the other moved under her skirt. “I could just touch you a bit here. Because I think you’re about to come, aren’t you?”

  “Nic,” she gasped. “I can’t. Not here. What if somebody sees?”

  “Then they’ll have a thrill, won’t they?” His hand was still moving. “Come on, now. Lie back and give them a show.”

  She knew nobody could really see, here at the back of the dark carpark. But his words had ignited her. His fingers were inside her, stroking over her. And he was still talking, and she was lost.

  “I’m going to take you home,” he told her. “I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight, you’re going to be walking funny for days. I’m going to do things to you that you’ve only heard about. And you’re going to love it. You’re going to be crying, and screaming, and begging me for more. You aren’t going to know your own name, by the time I’ve finished with you.”

  She couldn’t stop herself. Her breath came in gasps and her body stiffened as she spasmed around his hand, her back slamming against the leather seat. He held her there, kept going until she finished, then took her in his arms for another deep kiss.

  “That was a pretty good start,” he said against her hair. “Now let’s go home so I can do the rest.”

  It was a pity they’d gone all the way into the City, he thought. Because he was so hard, he was aching with it. After twenty minutes that seemed more like an hour, he was pulling up the steep driveway, punching the button for the garage. He pulled the car in, turned it off, closed the garage door again. Then turned to her once more.

  “I need to tell you something,” he said seriously. “Before we start.”

  “Before we start? What did we just do?”

  He smiled. “Warmed you up, that’s all. I have heaps more planned, before I let you go. And that’s what I want to talk to you about. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with, or anything that feels wrong to you. I’m going to be pushing it tonight, so if you really don’t want something, you need to tell me.”

  “You aren’t planning to hurt me, are you?” she asked uncertainly. “That isn’t what I meant. Not . . . not pain.”

  He reached out to kiss her, ran a hand over her cheek, closed it gently around the back of her neck. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you, and I don’t want to scare you. So if it’s really too much, if I push you further than you want to go. If you want me to stop. Say . . . say ‘aubergine.’ That’s your word. Not one you’re likely to be using tonight, otherwise. I know you’re going to be saying things like ‘wait.’ And ‘oh, no.’ Because it’s going to be so much for you to take. And I’m not going to know if you really mean it. But if you say ‘aubergine,’ I’ll stop straight away, no matter what I’m doing, or how much I want to keep doing it. I promise.”

  “I’m nervous,” she admitted. She was, he could see. Those big eyes looked up at him pleadingly. He kissed her again, gently this time.

  “You should be nervous. You shouldn’t be scared, but you should definitely be nervous. Because you wanted something special, and now you’re going to get it.”

  He led her into the house by the hand, flipping lights on. Took her upstairs to his bedroom, changed his mind and took her into another room instead. One that had the bed he needed. He tossed cushions onto the floor, pulled the duvet back.

  “Go wash up, if you like,” he told her. “Do whatever you need to do to get comfortable. Then come back and lie down here.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked anxiously.

  “Need to get a few things. Then I’ll come back. And when I do, I want you here. Lying down. Don’t take anything off,” he thought to add. “I’m going to do that.”

  “OK,” she said. Still nervous, he saw. Good.

  She was lying on the bed when he eased back into the room again a few minutes later, arms full. She’d taken her shoes off before arranging herself, but had followed his instructions and left the rest of her clothes intact. The excitement was a physical thing now, overwhelming her body, the thrum and pulse in every secret part of her keeping pace with her rapid heartbeat. But the nervousness had increased along with it, and she found that she was hugging herself, arms folded across her chest, legs crossed.

  She
shivered with anticipation as he set his burdens on the nightstand, then sat down on the bed next to her, leaned down for a kiss. “Good work getting on the bed for me. Now we’ll just do the next thing.”

  “What’s the next thing?” she asked breathlessly.

  He lay down beside her, moved over her as he continued to kiss her, took one of her hands in his. She jerked in surprise as he looped the necktie around it, then fastened it to the post on the headboard with a quick knot.

  “I never liked these anyway,” he said conversationally, taking hold of the other hand and fastening it in its turn. ”So tug all you want. I won’t care.”

  “Nic,” she pleaded. She struggled against the restraints, but he’d tied her too securely. Her wrists were held tight, her arms stretched overhead, and she was throbbing with arousal now.

  “Remember your word?” he asked. “Aubergine. D’you want to say it?”

  “Oh. Oh, no.” Her breath was coming in shallow gasps. “No. I don’t want to say it.”

  His smile started slowly, then grew as he looked down at her. “Good. That’s good. You’re doing so well. And now I’m going to get you naked, so I can play with you.”

  He drew it out, though, spent torturous minutes unbuttoning her sweater, one tiny square button at a time. Running his hands over her skin at every stop, before he finally, so slowly, unfastened the front clasp of the lacy bra. Used his hands and mouth on her as she felt the little skirt riding up her thighs, pulled desperately against the fabric binding her to the bed, writhed at his touch.

  “Touch me,” she got out. “Please.”

  “Where?” he asked, his hands playing at her breasts as his teeth grazed her neck, fastened on her earlobe. “Where d’you want me to touch you?”

  She moved her legs as far apart as the skirt would allow. “You know. Please. I need it.”

  “Not yet. You’re not in charge now, remember? I am. And I say it’s not time yet.”

  At last, when she was whimpering under him, he untied one knot, helped her pull her arm through her sleeve and bra strap, quickly refastened it. Then did the same on the other side until she was tied again, naked to the waist.