by Judy Jarvie
Ailsa smiled.
“I think you read my mind,” she answered.
***
“I’m glad you’re here,” he took her hand. “I want you to know, I’m no playboy. Cross my heart. I’m pretty useless at chatting up. Would you believe the most I ever get out is for a weekly game of squash and a run? Yes I’m successful in my business and I have the trappings of success. My business in on the travel enterprise A List. But I mostly live and breathe work. Which doesn’t leave social time.”
“So what do you do?”
“I own EliteEscape Dot Com. I started it from my back bedroom at home when I left hotel management. It grew. And grew. Now I employ 6000 people.”
Ailsa’s eyes opened wide. “You’ve won awards. My Aunty used them for a special anniversary cruise and she said it was the holiday of a lifetime.”
Nick smiled, pleased at the compliment. “I’m just an internet geek who loves computers and to travel. Combine the two and the job was made for me. Beach bum with techie traits, that’s me.”
“Is this a line to make me drool? Or are you hiding that clearly you’ve a mastermind business brain and you’re a computer ace too.”
“You often fall for internet geeks who spend all their free time flying in and out of meetings and chasing their tails?”
He stopped to click on a fancy coffee machine that bleeped and seconds later the air was full of fresh java aroma. Then he kicked off his loafers with a smile. His grey and yellow toed socks made her smile.
“Hence why chic hotel owners want you.”
“Chic hotel owners suffer from the credit crunch as much as everybody. Thankfully I can make empty rooms an opportunity rather than a cash flow crisis. At the end of the day my company is about high end branding and endorsement. Plus I’m select enough to bring some very exclusive and wealthy names to these hotels and that brings caché. My company’s a brand stamp hotels and select locations want. That could all change at any time, of course.”
Wow. What a guy.
Ailsa looked around, took in the room was little short of splendour. There were big spongy sofas and an enormous maxi-fun-sized bed visible through the doorway. He may play it down all he liked, but this man wasn’t just doing well. He was leagues of success out of her reach.
“Nick, there’s something you should know.”
Her abdomen may have started to swell like a washing machine on the slow warm rinse programme but she wanted to tell it to stop. It was no doubt at Nick’s seductive tones. But really this wasn’t what she was comfortable with. No matter how hot the partner. He needed the facts; she had to be straight.
“I’m not as free and wild and loose and easy as I suggested,” she confided.
Nick just watched her. As weird electrical charges started off in her veins and coursed around her body pumping their energy to parts of her long neglected and in need of playtime. But now was not their prized moment to clamour for kicks.
Ailsa glanced yet again at the football pitch-sized bed under spotlights. It was practically shouting 'Hope you like performing floodlit.'
Ailsa gulped, “Look Nick. It’s been a lovely evening but I’m not that kinda girl. I’m not sassy, I’m not strident. I was faking a lie.” She gulped then ran on, unable to stop. “I like you a lot. I fancied you so very badly years ago but there’s no getting around this just isn’t me. I’m leagues away from Sofa Girl in real life.” She’d opened up a dam now. And it was threatening a gush of explanation and woe betide anyone who wanted to stem the flow. “When I wear stockings I ladder them. Spike heels don’t suit me, I trip. When I try sexy underwear I feel like I’m playing dress up. I’m a flirtation fraud. I only asked you to sleep with me to try and break out of my boring mould. When push comes to shove I can’t do it.”
He gave her a solemn devastating look. Nick cleared his throat and then he pulled her to him. Pulled her so hard she sat right on top of his lap on the sofa.
Their noses were no more than half an inch apart. His breathing in such close proximity did sensational things to her insides. Hot meltdown inducing things.
“Don’t talk. Or make excuses. Or tell me you can’t. Just kiss me like you did last night. Imagine it’s the only time we’ll ever get to do it again.”
His eyes speared hers.
Suddenly she wanted to kiss. She wanted to kiss passionately and crazily and let her fingers and her tongue go wild as she undressed them both with abandon.
His lips met hers briefly. Gently. Tiny butterfly touches as they’d both shut their eyes and gently explored the sacred art of that one special kiss. It was a sensory exploration that inflamed but also tantalised and soothed long neglected impulses.
Nick sat back. “You can’t possibly know you can’t do it until you try. And that’s not a line to get you into my bed. You’re way too hard on yourself. This isn’t something I can walk away from quite so easily.” Nick reached out to touch her face. His fingers brushing torch heat as he did. “Walk away if you really don’t feel something amazing. One more kiss and give me your best shot.”
She did.
She pushed her mouth to his and let her lips entice him. Let her tongue trace the seam of that full, gorgeous mouth. Felt her breath hitch as his hands clasped her to keep her close and his mouth opened and welcomed her. They kissed; the best slow, blissful meeting of mouths she’d experienced. When she finally pulled back Ailsa would’ve sworn he’d see the stars in her eyes.
Nick fixed her with his gaze, “The woman who appears on TV looking like the answer to every young man’s fantasy is sitting on my hotel room sofa, telling me she’s not cut out for this. I think you’re wrong. But I like you all the more for your confessions, your honesty. And that kiss. If you want to leave you’re welcome to go.”
When she blinked back at him she found his arms encircle her waist and his expert hands did some strange barely touching thing that made her shiver. “Or you could stay. And go with exploring the new real you. Without pressure or expectation.”
Ailsa felt hypnotised by the seductive power of watching his lips.
And then he kissed her neck softly. His fingers travelled to the tiny zip at the back of her dress.
“I thought I was supposed to be seducing you?”
“Why not let me show you how it’s done?”
Nick looked her square in the eyes as she heard the zip buzz down. “Do you always have this problem with men undressing you on sofas?”
“Actually not until now.” She giggled in spite of herself.
He placed another delectable kiss on her neck, let his lips travel down making her breathe deep to stay afloat. Then his lips met hers. Parted them, dove deep, replenished and incited.
Mouths opened, tongue slid and teased tongue with speed and ease. That kiss should have been illegal. Censored and sent to prison for a long long time to mend its wayward ways.
Somehow her dress was around her shoulders. So she was reclining on the sofa in her barely there lingerie and her dress a wispy blanket. She felt him slowly unfastening her dress belt and Nick was doing amazing things with his lips on the skin of her neck and shoulders.
Slowly he let the dress fall away. Then with the very tips of his fingers he pulled it down…
Ailsa felt the closeness of his fingertips act like drawing a magnet over iron filings. The tips of his thumbs skimmed the mound of her breasts that swelled above her bra. She heard his breath quicken and it was divine.
He licked his finger and brushed around the edge of her bra cup, which caused pleasure to swell inside her in greeting and made her sigh and groan aloud. Her nipples swelled with need.
“Told you this evening together would be magic,” he whispered and kissed her again. Nick stroked the skin of her torso beneath her bra so very softly.
He held her gaze then bent his head to kiss her from her neck, across the sweep of her shoulders, then down to her silky bra.
And Ailsa knew she didn’t want him to stop. She closed her eyes and sav
oured that brief snatch of paradise. Surely Kirsty wouldn’t mind her relinquishing power this once in favour of instruction?
And Nick proved himself more than up to the job of taking the lead from there. He pulled her close to him and made her stand. Then somehow navigated them in a close tango into the bedroom, towards the bed.
His body was all hard planes. His ragged, fast breathing made her head spin.
He did things with his tongue that said, I’m fantastic in bed and you’ll regret it if you don’t let me seduce you. His body said, hey I’m so fit and strong you’ll never let me go.
“I hope I’ve stalled your reservations now I’m turning you on.”
It was no word of a lie. “I think you might be onto something,” she whispered.
“To think I wasted a whole year just giving you dictation and audio tapes,” he whispered. “I really needed my head examined.”
***
Nick crooked her chin up and kissed her; just as she’d imagined at nineteen. How perfect was that? Heaven was there within her grasp.
Eight years ago it would have been her every waking fantasy come true. Okay it wasn’t the loincloth jungle dream, but that might just be stretching things.
She closed her eyes and kissed him from the heart. Her body wasn’t far behind the party either. The kissing was infectious, exquisite even but it didn’t extinguish their relish, it only fuelled the frustration.
Frustration to touch, taste. To be free of clothes, to be closer. To feel skin on skin. To share mounting anticipated desire. Kirsty was right about this being electrifying. It needn’t be scary; it was empowering.
“You’re sure about this?” Nick checked.
“I didn’t get into underwear this sexy for nothing.”
He was simultaneously undressing her and his own shirt flew across the room. He was undressing her like he couldn’t do it fast enough and she couldn’t have him do it at quick enough pace either. And suddenly she didn’t care that she’d stepped out of her unfastened dress and she was standing in front of Nick Palmer in nothing but underwear.
It was hot underwear. And now that she came to be less shy and critical; her figure looked fantastic inside it. In fact she wanted the underwear to be gone.
Sadly he was taking a bit too long on her top half. She flipped down her bra straps, kicked off her slinky boots.
“Surer than sure,” she proved it by moving her mouth over his and plunging her fingers into his hair.
She could have eaten him whole. Nibbling his earlobe; more delicious than she could ever have imagined it to be. She tasted - his neck, his mouth, the hollow at his throat. If they tasted this good, what of the rest of him?
Her hands played over his taut muscles. The planes of his abs made her groan and his biceps were the stuff of legend. She was thrilled to feel manly hair that delighted her. Needing to hear his breathing grow jagged when she touched him.
“Oh man!” he groaned. “Easy.”
She dipped her head to kiss his chest. “Does that feel good?”
He moaned and her spirits soared. She had so much more to show him than words. With smoky dark eyes he welcomed her astride him on the bed. He clasped his hands around her waist protectively as they kissed. Then he let fingers stray over the very tops of her thighs to trace steady lines upwards, travel further to encircle her hips. Her suspenders made her feel sexy. She mentally thanked Lisa’s persuasion to try them.
“I want you,” he told her.
She pushed herself close. She invited. “I’m ready if you are.”
“No rushing,” he said. “I plan to make sure you enjoy this evening.”
Ailsa unclasped her bra. Enjoyed the feeling of her sexy underwear, then she shook her hair free and arched her back like a cat. She shimmied to brush him. “Still want it slow?”
He groaned and muffled a curse. His mouth was on her breasts, biting and kissing the swell of them, then the nipple. He teased her with his practiced gentle teeth.
He rolled her onto her back but Ailsa stopped him. She let her hand stray down to unlatch the buckle of his annoying leather belt. She watched him bite back desire as she threw the belt to the floor. So this was what it felt like to take charge. Their eyes met and he gave her silent consent.
She was finally being the seductress and doing a good job. It wasn’t half as bad as it might have been. It was fun.
“Now touch me,” she ordered.
Nick’s eyes darkened. “Ailsa, what happened to gentle and easy?”
She took his hand and placed it on her hottest place.
Excitement started to spill infectiously. His hands slid with smooth deliberation up her torso, cupping her full and aching breasts. He skimmed her nipples and the contours of her curves with his thumbs. It sent a live charge to bits of her that buzzed with desire.
“Good?”
Then he played his tongue expertly up her torso. Flicking his tongue and playing the roughness of his teeth, making her gasp and her need swell. Her breathing was jagged and debilitating. His mouth travelled down her body to the very hem of her silky panties. His eyes met hers before he pulled them away with his teeth.
Nick smiled. “You’re amazing,” he told her.
He placed his fingers on the warm bead of her core and pulsed there. It made Ailsa squirm and gasp.
He touched her in her hottest place. Letting his fingers trace and linger.
Ailsa felt the breath leave her in shaky gasps. She felt him answer by removing his clothing.
Ailsa’s need was fierce. It was frustrating too. She’d never felt this way before.
“You’re little short of wonderful.”
“Oh Nick, don’t stop. Or talk.”
There was an urgent unexpected knock on the door outside.
“Mr Palmer. You have unanswered urgent calls. Your son is in hospital. Your wife needs you to return her call. You mobile phone is switched to off. Mr Palmer.” Again the knocking was insistent.
Nick winced but sprang to standing and stood debilitated and half clothed.
“Coming shortly!” he called out.
“Not any more we’re not,” she whispered.
His breathing came in hard, sharp gasps. His face looked taut but still handsome as anything.
Shock froze Ailsa rigid. Nick looked utterly confused at what he should do.
“Don’t let your son down.” Ailsa ordered. “Put your clothes back on first.”
She put her hand out to retrieve her clothes from the edge of the bed and began to haul them on. To restore order. “You’d better go. You’re wanted by your wife and son.”
“Ailsa…it’s not …” His face may be pleading but she turned her back.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
He said roughly, “At least give me a chance to explain.”
“Let’s call it a night and learn to leave history alone.”
Well alone. In a dark, quiet lonely corner.
Chapter Five
Ailsa went to the lobby, called a cab and went directly home.
She didn’t pass ‘Go’ or collect £200. But she felt like she’d just been played for a sucker at Edinburgh Monopoly and Nick had bought up all the hotels on Princes Street.
The way she saw it she’d had a reprieve. A lucky reprieve from a man with a son and a wife he’d conveniently left in the dusty attic of his conscience while he made love to her in a posh hotel in Scotland.
She told Lisa the summary details on her return home; minus the graphic ‘on bed minus clothing’ exploits. She needed an ally even if only for moral high ground and talk it through therapy.
“Oh well,” Lisa said, flicking on the kettle switch to boil up a brew with an ‘it’ll be okay once the embarrassment’s faded’ smile. “At least you didn’t sleep with him. Look on the bright side, mind you, I’m not sure if not sleeping with a man like Nick really is a bright side.”
“Thanks,” Ailsa breathed. “I must remember never to consult you again when my ego’s suffere
d a lethal blow and I feel like telling the world to let me get off.”
Wise words from the friend who’d been urging her towards that very deed from the word go.
“And,” said Lisa. Her friend was always good at looking on the bright side even when there wasn’t one, “Now you’re free to work for Johnny tonight doing a Ghost Tour, someone’s called off sick. He’ll call again.”
Ailsa sighed. She refrained from enlightening her friend on the awkward truth that she and Nick had strayed oh so very temptingly close to really sleeping together they could taste it, smell it, breathe it and wish.
He’d helped her along with seduction to such a degree that she’d seized the gauntlet, the baton and the swing of things to the point that frustration still rung loud as turbo church bells in her brain.
An experience that was extremely, earth-tremor inspiringly pleasurable if she were honest. But the ethical issues were mortifying. Now she just felt dirty and deceived.
“What are you whispering about?” Andy’s voice echoed from the sitting room sofa. A sofa, Ailsa mused, he was occupying a little too regularly and a little too much of these days. “Hot gossip?”
Ailsa wondered if Andy actually had a home of his own to go to. His boxer shorts were always in her tumble dryer. His oil smeared shoes were always on the rack. His Guitar Weekly and Hot Bikes, Hot Women magazines were always littering her coffee table. Had she inadvertently lost exclusive rights to the remote and gained an unofficial lodger?
Maybe she was just cranky from missing out on the best sex of her life at the final furlong.
“Nothing juicy,” called Lisa. “Just girly chats. You wouldn’t be interested.”
Andy raised his brows, appearing like a genie in the doorway, arms crossing his chest. All he needed were silk pants, curly toed slippers and a turban. Followed closely by a magic carpet and a large surplus stock of Turkish delight.
“We were discussing where all the hot water went this morning,” Ailsa lied. She suspected he’d been using the shower to wash his motorbike parts again. And right now ‘dirty parts’ weren’t welcome in her home or her life.