Six Naughty Nights

by Serenity Woods

  “Is that harder than ordinary algebra?” Her voice was little more than a whisper as she clasped her fingers around him.

  “Much,” he murmured, lowering his lips to hers for the briefest of kisses. “Now I’m feeling distinctly underdressed here. Time for you to catch up.” He grasped the hem of her dress. “Arms up.”

  She did so, closing her eyes, and he drew the cotton shift up her body and over her head, letting it drop to the floor. He’d guessed right—she was naked beneath it, her skin warm and with a slight sheen from the heat of the room.

  “My, my,” he whispered. “Aren’t you an absolute picture?”

  “You like?” She opened her eyes and met his, bold for once.

  “Mm.” He fanned out his hands on her stomach. “I don’t know why you think your body isn’t attractive because you’ve had a child.”

  “It’s flabby.”

  “It’s really not, Esther. It’s softer, yes. But I like that. I like you being soft.” He smoothed his hands around her waist. “I wish I could have seen you pregnant.”

  Lines of regret shadowed her face and she bit her lip.

  “No,” he said quickly. “No accusations, no regret, not now. I’m just saying. I’d like to have seen your body change. Watched it swell as our lad grew inside you. It’s amazing, what you went through for him.”

  She shook her head. “It was nothing women all over the world haven’t done for millions of years.”

  “That doesn’t make it any less marvellous. You grew a person inside you, Esther. A tiny person—you cherished him, nourished him with your body and made him into what he is. How can I put into words how that makes me feel? You amaze me. I worship the ground you walk on because of what you did for me, for Charlie.”

  A tear ran down her cheek. “Don’t.”

  He leaned forward and kissed it away. “Cry all you like. I’m not going to stop. You’re fucking amazing. I’m in awe of your body. As if these weren’t amazing enough—” he cupped her breasts, “—you nurtured our son with them. I wish I could have seen that. Watched you nurse him in the middle of the night.”

  “Yeah right,” she said weakly, sniffing. “You’d have turned over and started snoring.”

  “I wouldn’t. I’d have brought him into our bed and watched you feed him. And then when he was done, I’d have taken him back to his cot and climbed back in beside you.” His blood surged around his body as if he had a fever. He moved closer to her and licked away the tears that continued to fall down her cheeks. “Then I’d have tasted them myself, suckled some of that life-giving milk.”

  “Oh jeez, you’re disgusting.” But she shivered, her nipples peaking in his hands.

  “Oh yeah.” He brushed his tongue into her mouth, loving the way she moaned at the deep kiss. He lifted his head. “And then I’d have stroked you slowly and gently.” He moved a hand to the hair at the top of her legs and slid his fingers down through her moist skin. She was already swollen, and her juices coated his fingers when he slipped them inside her. “Oh, Esther, always so ready for me.”

  He drew his fingers back up and caressed the tiny button at the top. “I’d have loved to arouse you in the darkness, our son content and asleep, and given you pleasure as a reward for your generous selflessness. I’d have made you come on my hand, or on my mouth, whatever you wanted, and then I’d have wrapped my arms around you and let you fall asleep all safe and secure.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Stop. Please.”

  He hesitated. He’d gone too far. She’d had to live through those difficult early months alone—had even had to cope with the death of her father. She didn’t need to be reminded of how hard it must have been, or how he could have helped her through it.

  He enfolded her in his arms and kissed her hair. In spite of his words, regret surged through him. He should have been there to look after her and support her. But he’d abandoned her and made it twice as hard for her to cope. He’d never forgive himself for that.

  There was no point in beating himself up about it now, though. Better to try and show her how sorry he was.

  “Come on,” he said gently.

  He drew her into the shower and directed her beneath the spray. The water soaked her dark curls, turning them to glistening mahogany strands in his fingers. He squeezed shampoo onto his hand, massaged it into her hair carefully and rinsed it clean. Then he poured some coconut-scented shower gel onto his hands and smoothed it over her body.

  She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were wide and glistening as she leaned against the wall and let him wash her. He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose, her lips, while he trailed fingers across her silky skin, cleansing her, trying to say he was sorry without having to say the words. Don’t be angry, he thought, staring intently into her eyes before kissing her again. He hadn’t meant to upset her, only to explain that he understood what she’d had to go through without him.

  When he’d done, she did the same to him, and her gentle touch as she washed his hair and then his body showed him she wasn’t angry with him, just sad, maybe, that things had worked out the way they had.

  When they were finished, he turned off the shower and stepped out of the cubicle. Taking a towel from the rail, he dried her slowly, then let her do the same to him. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a tangle of brown curls, but he left it, liking the wildness of it.

  He took her through to the bedroom and kissed her again, deeply. Then, eventually, he raised his head. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

  She chewed her bottom lip, and her eyes lit with excitement. To his surprise, she took his face in her hands and said fiercely, “I want you, Toby. Don’t doubt that. Whatever’s happened, whatever’s going to happen, here, now, I want you more than anything in the world.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  He nodded and swallowed down the lump that appeared in his throat. “Come on.” He pulled her over to the bed and they climbed on.

  He lay back, and she knelt by his side. She blushed. “Um… How do we start?”

  Smiling, he twirled a finger to encourage her to turn around. He had to lighten the atmosphere a little. It was his fault they’d got all deep and meaningful, and he wanted her to enjoy her Naughty Night.

  She turned her back to him. He manoeuvred the pillows into a comfortable position and then smacked her butt.

  “Ow!” She looked over her shoulder at him with an amused glare.

  He winked. “I bet I can make you come before you do the same to me.”

  Her mouth fell open, and then her lips curved. “You are absolutely on with that bet, mister.” She giggled as he gestured for her to climb on top of him and lifted herself over his chest to straddle his shoulders. She waggled her backside at him. “What do I get if I win?”

  “My undying gratitude?” he said faintly, eyes boggling at the stupendous view.

  “Winner gets to choose the next card?” she suggested.

  “Deal,” he said. But in his head he thought, Fuck. He was going to have trouble winning that bet. She smelled wonderful. The musky scent of her arousal stirred his pheromones, and every single red blood cell in his body flooded to his groin.

  She positioned herself in front of his face. As she lowered herself down, her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Her knees rested either side of his head, and her hot, moist sex opened to his gaze.

  He groaned. Her pink skin glistened with moisture. He couldn’t resist running his tongue up the centre of the swollen, luscious folds.

  She jumped and exclaimed, “Hey, unfair. You can’t have a head start.”

  He chuckled and then caught his breath as she closed her hand around his erection. He was so hard now it almost hurt, and she sighed as she revealed the swollen tip. She touched her tongue to the bead of moisture on the end, and he groaned again. “Game on,” she said, and then she closed her mouth over him, enclosing him in wet heat.

  He nearly came on the spot and had to use every single ounce of self-control he p
ossessed to keep it together. He had some pride after all—jeez, he had to last longer than ten seconds at least. Focus, Toby. He forced himself to concentrate on the moist, soft flesh by his mouth.

  She must have waxed her bikini line too. Her inner thighs were hairless, the hair on her mound a small, neat triangle. All the skin around her sex was soft and smooth. Overwhelmed by the musky smell, he ran his tongue up the centre of her again. She shivered, and he stroked his hands along her sides and back down her spine to knead the cheeks of her ass. He nudged her legs farther apart, and she relaxed into him, opening up for him.

  In spite of the bet, he knew she was as keen as he was to make the moment last. He’d never been so turned on, and judging by the amount of moisture she was producing, neither had she. He lapped it up slowly, dipping his tongue inside her before sliding it between her folds to reveal the small bead that would be her undoing. He licked it gently, flicking it with the end of his tongue, and she rewarded him with another flood of moisture and an erotic sigh. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he groaned.

  She explored him at the same time, brushing the warm pad of her tongue across the swollen head of his erection. But when she took him into her mouth and leaned forward to slide her lips down his shaft, he nearly lost the plot. He tightened his fingers on her ass and she lifted her head and let him relax. She blew gently on his hot skin and giggled. “That was nearly one-nil,” she said.

  “Right.” He brushed his tongue through her, determined she wouldn’t win so easily. She moaned, and he slipped his hand underneath her, using his fingers to probe gently. He slid them in and out of her as he continued to lick and suck.

  “That’s cheating,” she mumbled before closing her mouth over him again.

  He gave a short laugh and then groaned as she sucked hard. Pressing the swollen skin on either side to reveal her tiny button again, he flicked it with his tongue.

  She spread her legs wider, taking him deeper in her mouth at the same time.

  He sucked, his hips automatically pushing up as she squeezed him with her hand.

  She slid her lips down his shaft, taking him so deep inside her mouth he nearly passed out.

  His heart hammered, and the fingers of his other hand sank into her hip as they tightened automatically.

  He wanted her to feel what he was feeling. Was she close to climaxing? He pushed his fingers into her and sucked hard as her clit hardened. Moisture coated his tongue, and for a brief second she raised her head to moan deeply. Yep. She was nearly there.

  He curved his fingers inside her to find the swelling on the front wall of her vagina and stroked firmly. She caught her breath and triumph flooded through him. He was going to win.

  Clearly, however, she had other ideas. She closed her lips around him and moved them along his shaft. To his amazement, she took him even deeper into the warm cavern of her mouth, so deep he touched the back of her throat.

  There was no coming back from that. His balls tightened, and heat spread through his lower stomach, thighs and groin as hot fluid rushed through him into her waiting mouth.

  Luckily, her own climax overwhelmed her at the same time. He wrapped an arm over her and held her tightly as she shuddered, her internal muscles squeezing his fingers, and he pressed his tongue against her firmly as she tensed in regular, rhythmic pulses.

  It was the most incredible sensation he’d ever had—her warm and wet on his mouth, him swollen and throbbing in hers, and by the time they’d both finished, she’d reduced him to a limp ragdoll of a man, unable to do anything but lie there and sigh as she rolled off him and collapsed onto the bed.

  “Fuck,” she said to the room.

  He didn’t have the energy to do anything more than chuckle. “Yeah.”

  Her hand found his on the duvet and she linked their fingers together. He stared up at the ceiling, his heart rate gradually slowing, sated and content like a just-fed cat.

  She sat up and shifted so she could rest her head on her chest.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Sweetheart, thank you for coming up with that brilliant idea.”

  She giggled. “I’ve always wanted to try it.”

  “Honey, if you come up with any other hypothesis you’d like to test, I’m always happy to oblige.”

  She smiled, but she also lowered her gaze, and he cursed himself silently. Why did he keep putting his foot in it? Today was Wednesday—he had her for Thursday, Friday and maybe Saturday. Sunday she’d probably be gone. What was the point in talking about “always”?

  She curled up next to him, and he rested a hand on her hip, stroking up her back. His heart went out to her. She was made of granite on the outside, but soft as cotton wool on the inside. He could see it now. She’d been different back in Fiji—hopeful, excited, completely open emotionally. She’d believed in them, thought they’d had a future. And what had he done? Taken her vulnerable heart and stomped on it.

  And yet she’d still taken him into her bed again. He couldn’t believe that.

  He stroked up her side, and she wriggled when he touched the sensitive skin beneath her arms. Raising himself up, he rolled her onto her back and looked down at her. Cupping her face, he ran his thumb across her lips. She kissed it, and he smiled. He couldn’t think what to say, so he just lowered his lips to hers, kissing her leisurely until she opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue inside.

  He deepened the kiss until she was breathless, stroking her soft, damp skin and sliding his fingers into the heart of her. She didn’t protest, her cool green eyes watching him as he aroused her. He kissed down her neck to her breasts, took her velvety nipples in his mouth and teased them to hard peaks, fierce joy flooding him as she writhed and moaned. This time he wanted to watch her come apart, knowing he was the cause.

  He moved on top of her, and she welcomed him inside eagerly. His erection slid easily into her moist, swollen flesh, and they both groaned. He began to thrust slowly, kissing her all the while, drinking in every erotic sigh she gave. Arousing her was like fine tuning an instrument, he thought in a delirious haze, knowing where to touch, to lick, to squeeze with his fingers to take her that step closer to fulfilment.

  It wasn’t long before she bit her lip and her breathing grew irregular, and he lifted his head and watched the orgasm overtake her like a surfer tumbled by a powerful wave. He kissed the frown lines that appeared between her eyes and captured her cries with his mouth, at that moment so satisfied and complete that not even the arrival of his own climax could top his contentedness.

  He’d given her pleasure. Nobody else.

  He couldn’t think of a better way to say he was sorry.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  It was with some nervousness that Esther walked into Rusty’s high school at lunchtime the following day.

  She signed in at the office, and the receptionist directed her to his classroom at the bottom end of the social sciences building. Luckily she didn’t have to walk all the way through the school—she found him outside the staffroom, talking to a group of students.

  She stopped and waited for him to finish. They spotted her before he did and lost no time in pointing out he had a visitor. He looked over his shoulder at her, then sent the group of giggling girls on their way.

  Esther smiled wryly. It didn’t surprise her that he should be one of the most popular teachers in the school. Tall, slender and with a casual sexiness he carried with ease, Rusty drew the eye of most of the senior girls he passed as he came over to her.

  Much of her nervousness was due to meeting him. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why. It might be the vague sense of disapproval she’d sensed in him from the moment she landed at the airport. Why would he disapprove of her? Usually she would have asked a person outright if she thought they had a problem with her, but something about him made her bite her tongue and nibble a fingernail as he came toward her.

  “Hey.” He smiled warmly, though.

  “Hiya.” She smi
led back. She was imagining it, she tried to convince herself. He didn’t dislike her.

  He indicated a package he held under his arm, wrapped in a carrier bag. “All done.”

  She had the grace to blush. Before she’d left Toby’s house the previous evening, they’d drawn the next Naughty Nights card together, and he read it out to her.

  “‘It’s Schoolgirls’ Night at the local nightclub. All the women there are dressed up in schoolgirl uniform. Pick one who takes your fancy, and spirit her off to your place. You can then give her extra tuition—and be as strict as you please!’”

  “Where am I going to get a school uniform?” she’d asked him.

  “Rusty’ll be able to buy a second-hand one in the school’s uniform shop,” Toby had told her.

  She’d stared, horrified. “I can’t ask him!”

  “I’ll do it then.”

  And he had. So here she was, standing before the history teacher with cheeks burning at his obvious amusement.

  She held out her hand. “Stop smirking.”

  “I’m not smirking.” He grinned. “Okay, maybe I am.”

  She flicked her fingers. “Come on, hand them over.”

  He put his hands in his pockets, the parcel still under his arm. “Not yet. Come for a walk with me.”

  Exasperated and embarrassed, aware she couldn’t just tussle with him and wrestle the parcel away, she fell into step beside him as he walked along the boulevard toward the field. Younger kids tore around them yelling and throwing rugby balls, but Rusty seemed oblivious to the mania, like a pop star walking through the crowd to the stage.

  What did he want? And why did he make her feel so awkward?

  “I should get going,” she protested. “Faith has Charlie, and she’s got a meeting at two.”

  “We won’t be long.” He remained unperturbed by her nerves.

  They exited the buildings and walked onto the fields. The warm March sun beat down on the students playing rugby and football, or lazing at the edges, talking. Clouds bunched along the horizon, and it had turned humid, promising rain.