Seven Sexy Sins

by Serenity Woods

  “Because I said so.” When she didn’t move, he ushered her into the bedroom.

  “I’m not one of your schoolgirls,” she protested.

  “Faith, for God’s sake, I don’t need any more provocation. I told you, I’m turned on enough without imagining you in pigtails and white socks.” He gave her a hot kiss before going out.

  Wondering what he was getting up to, she began to unpack her bag. She placed her toothbrush in the bathroom and hung up her clothes for the next day. Then she took out her notes and began to jot down a few titles and headings, thinking about her next article. As she did so, she had to quell the ripple of excitement and nervousness that shimmered through her. Eventually she put down the pad and lay back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling fan that turned slowly, circulating the air.

  Rusty had said sex was always fun like this, if you were doing it right. Was that really the case? She’d never felt this excitement, this anticipation, with either of her other lovers. But then this was different, because of the articles, and their exploration of the seven sins. Ordinary sex, with a partner you’d been going out with for ages, wouldn’t be the same, would it? If she’d been dating Rusty for months, or years, her heart wouldn’t be racing at the thought of kissing him and feeling his hands on her eager body. Would it?

  She closed her eyes. What was he doing out there? She wanted him, badly, had been planning what she was going to do with him all week, since they last parted. It felt as if she’d been in a permanent state of arousal for days. She moved her hands down her body, inhaling as her fingers brushed her nipples. If he didn’t take her soon…

  The door opened and she sat up, flushing at the direction of her thoughts. Hands on hips, he observed her, raising an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “You look guilty.” His lips curved. “Have you been getting started while I’ve been busy?”

  “No! Goodness.” Could the man read her thoughts? Or was her desire really written all over her face? She’d never been a good poker player.

  “What? I don’t mind.” He came over to her and pulled her to her feet, nuzzled her ear and kissed her hot cheek. “I’d prefer it if I could watch, though.”

  She tried to push him away. “Stop embarrassing me.”

  He held her tighter. “I like embarrassing you. You go all pink. Like you do before you’re about to come.”

  “Rusty! What’s got into you?”

  “I don’t know.” He kissed her ear again, making her shiver all over. “You smell all…womanly. Mint and lavender and…something with vanilla…”

  “That’s probably the custard I had for lunch.”

  He chuckled, but didn’t stop touching his lips to her neck as his hands began to wander across her body. “Joke all you like, you’re not putting me off.”

  “We should wait. I’ve got everything prepared…”

  “And you’ve made so much effort, I want to make it worthwhile. I have a plan…”

  “Another warm-up session?”

  “Yep. Pre-sex sex, as you lovingly called it.”

  She sighed as he ran a hand up her skirt and reached around to cup her butt.

  “You’re so wicked,” he whispered as his hand found bare skin, moving her to the bed.

  “I’m wicked? You’re the one who keeps embarrassing me.” She gasped as he pushed her and she fell backward, bouncing on the mattress. He fell on top of her, making her squeal.

  “Oh God. No. Air. In. Lungs.”

  “Tough.” He kissed her, hard.

  Desire shot through her, as if Cupid had injected her with a vial of lust. She opened her legs and wrapped them around him. “Okay, I give in.” She wriggled beneath him, pushing herself against his erection. “Come on, Thorne. Squish me flat.”

  Hot and aroused, not even bothering to undress, they made love in about five minutes, which was slightly better than the six seconds he’d promised her. Faith would have been embarrassed at how little time it took her to achieve an orgasm, if he hadn’t nearly beaten her to it.

  Afterward, they lay back on the bed, letting the fan waft cool air over them. He looked over at her. “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Being so quick. I did warn you.”

  She pushed herself up onto an elbow. “You did. I was hardly hanging around, in case you didn’t notice.”

  He rolled to face her and propped his head on a hand. “I did notice, as a matter of fact. You’re very easy to please.”

  “Well, when your guy has all the moves, what can you do?”

  He gave a short laugh. She studied him for a moment. “How many girls have you had, do you think?”

  His smile turned into a frown. “Faith…”

  “I’m interested.”

  “I’ve already told you…”

  “You don’t kiss and tell, I know.” She met his gaze openly. “Seriously, Rusty, I’ve never spoken to a guy like this. You all joke about sex and who and what you’ve done, but I never know if you’re being serious. You know what my job involves, that I write about this kind of stuff for a living. You’re great at helping out on the website, and with this.” She indicated the bedroom. “I could do with an honest answer or two.”

  He continued to frown. “I don’t know that I’m comfortable with talking to you about stuff like that.”

  “Why not? As I told you last time, we’re not dating. It’s not as if I’m a girlfriend or anything. We’re business partners. And friends.”

  The frown turned back into a reluctant smile. “I guess.”

  “Consider it part of my education. I know you can’t resist educating me.”

  He sighed. “You know me too well. Okay, what do you want to know?”

  She sat up and crossed her legs. “How many girls have you been with?”

  “I honestly couldn’t tell you. It’s not like I’ve got notches on the bedpost or anything.”

  “Over a hundred?”

  His eyes widened. “Fuck me, Hillman, I’ve already told you, I feel enough of a gigolo without your help. No, nowhere near a hundred.”

  “Ball park, then.”

  “I honestly don’t know. Thirty-something?”

  “Could you name them all in order if you had to?”

  His gaze drifted to over her right shoulder, as if he was trying to list them in his head. It came back to her and he smiled. “More or less.”

  Her heart pounded. She didn’t know why this was so important to her. But she needed to know about him, about whom he’d loved, and why. “How many were one-night stands?”

  “Ah…a few.”

  “Ten? Twenty?”

  “Er…” He looked embarrassed. “Probably nearer the latter. University.”

  “Hmm.” She supposed she should feel upset or annoyed at his many partners. But she didn’t. For some reason it made her want to jump him again. “Any you didn’t know the last name of?”

  His lips twitched. “Possibly.”

  “Any you didn’t know the first name of?”

  “No… I’m not that bad. Jeez.”

  She bit her lip to stop herself smiling. “Any gay experiments?” She burst out laughing at the look on his face. “Sorry, I had to ask.”

  “No, you didn’t. You’re enjoying this too much.”

  “I sure am. How many times have you been in love?”

  The frown reappeared. “Never.”

  “Never?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t think so.”

  “Not even with Meredith? I thought she was special.”

  He looked out of the window. “She was a nice girl. She wanted things to get more serious. But I…” He let the sentence drift off.

  “You didn’t feel you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her?”

  “No.”

  “So a more apt description might be you didn’t want to fall in love.”

  His green eyes came back to her. “Maybe.”

  “Are you ever going to get over this thing you’ve got
about being like your father?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “So you don’t think you’ll ever fall in love?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  They studied each other for a while. His gaze was open, honest. She didn’t want to spoil the day, and decided not to pursue him down that road.

  He seemed willing to wait patiently for her to come up with the next question.

  “Who’s the best you’ve had?”

  “I’ve already told you.”

  She sighed. “Seriously.”

  “I’m perfectly serious. Look.” He gestured at his face, indicating the absence of a smile. “Why do you think I’m not telling the truth?”

  “I think you’re being polite. Love the one you’re with. I don’t see what would be so wrong about you giving me an honest answer. I know it’s not me, Rusty, I won’t be wounded. You’re only my third lover. I’m well aware some of your girls have…” She thought how to phrase it.

  “Been around the block?”

  She giggled. “No, that’s not what I was going to say. Had more experience is how I would phrase it.”

  He smiled. “Yes, most, if not all, were more experienced than you.”

  “So who was the best?”

  He sat up, leaned forward and kissed her. “One day, I’ll say ‘you’, and you’ll believe me. Now, come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

  Not believing him in spite of what he said, she followed him out into the living room. There she stopped, staring in surprise at the scene outside. He’d spread a large blanket on the decking, maybe six or seven feet square, and scattered it with cushions. Around the edges, he’d placed a ring of candles, some of which she could smell were citronella, to ward off insects, the rest a variety of colours. He’d lit them all, bathing the area in a warm glow. He’d carried out her cooler and placed it to one side with a couple of plates. And next to it were two glasses, one with wine, one with Coke.

  She grinned happily at him. “You old romantic.”

  He winked back. “Are you ready to reveal to me the secrets of your cooler? Only I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since lunch.”

  “Good. I have a variety of things to whet your appetite.”

  “I know, but do you have any food?”

  Laughing, she led him over to the blanket, and they sat cross-legged on cushions, facing each other. She pulled the cooler over to her and unzipped it.

  “So tell me about this sin.” He sipped his Coke. “What’s the big deal?”

  “This sin is about your senses.” She rummaged in the cooler. “Specifically, taste and touch. I want to experiment with different foods, and see if some are sexier than others. Many foods are supposed to be aphrodisiacs. I want to see if they work.”

  “Sounds good. Where do we start?”

  “There are a couple of rules—you can only eat with your fingers. And as far as possible, we have to share.”

  “Feed each other, you mean?”

  “Yeah. Or off each other.”

  He smiled lazily. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Okay, sexy food can basically be split into two types: foods that contain chemicals that are conducive to feeling sexy, and foods that look…suggestive.”

  “Hmm, sounds intriguing. What’s first?”

  Chapter Eleven

  She pulled out a small box of crackers and a jar. “Caviar.”

  “Ooh.” He watched her spoon a small amount onto a cracker. “So what’s sexy about caviar? I’m guessing it’s not one of those foods that looks suggestive.”

  “Not so much. It’s supposed to stimulate the formation of testosterone.”

  “Well, I guess I could always do with more of that. Don’t know about you.”

  She held the cracker up to his mouth. He ate it in one bite while she prepared another, which he then took and fed to her. She closed her mouth over it, feeling his thumb brush her lip as he pushed it into her mouth. Great. The first bite and she was already turned on.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

  She ran her tongue around her lips thoughtfully. “Slightly salty. Reminds me of something else…” They both laughed.

  He scooped some more onto another cracker and helped himself as she rummaged in the bag again. He flexed an arm muscle. “I feel manlier already.”

  “Well, there you go.” She retrieved the next box from the bag, opened the lid, and took out half a dozen jalapeno poppers.

  “Chillies?” He looked wary.

  “Apparently they help release endorphins, which give you a natural high.”

  “Where did you get these from?”

  “I made them.”

  “You went to a lot of effort.”

  She shrugged. “I needed to for my research.” She concentrated on his mouth as she held out the grilled chilli stuffed with cream cheese and spices. She didn’t want him to look into her eyes and see the truth—that she’d prepared every dish with him in mind, unable to stop thinking as she made them about whether they’d turn him on or not.

  He bit into the pepper, chewed and winced. “Fuck, they’re hot!”

  “What did you expect?”

  “One of the milder ones. God, my lips are burning.”

  “I forgot what a wuss you are with spicy food. Here.” She took a small mouthful of his Coke, leaned forward and kissed him, letting the liquid flood his mouth, the bubbles dancing on their tongues.

  She pulled back. “Better?”

  “No. But it was still nice.”

  “Want another one?”

  “Ah…no thanks. Do you have any food that doesn’t take the inner lining off my mouth?”

  She retrieved some more containers from the cooler. “These will be more to your liking, I promise.” She popped open the lids. “Homemade guacamole, not too spicy, I promise.”

  “So what’s the background behind this?”

  “Avocados contain vitamin B6, which increases male hormone production.”

  “Are you going to have a moustache by the end of this exercise?”

  “I sincerely hope not. And even if I do, it doesn’t mean you’re turning gay. They also contain potassium, which helps regulate the female thyroid gland. And…the Aztecs called the avocado tree a ‘testicle tree’ because when the fruit hangs in pairs it looks like testicles.”

  “And I’m supposed to find that sexy?”

  She laughed. “Here, dip one of these in it for me.” She handed him a stick of asparagus, wrapped in bacon.

  “Amusingly phallic,” he said, scooping up some of the guacamole and offering it to her.

  Fixing her gaze on his, she closed her lips over the end and took a delicate bite.

  He studied her, his gaze starting to grow hot. “I don’t know how you made that look sexy, but you managed it.”

  “This will kill you, then.” She took out a hot dog and made a great display of licking the end before sliding her mouth over it. Giggles overtook her, however, which rather killed the effect.

  After this, she continued to unpack the tiny containers she’d carefully fitted into the cooler. Thoroughly enjoying themselves, feeding each other, they made their way through the other dishes she’d prepared, including small, tender pieces of steak cooked in a mustard sauce, salmon pieces that she adored but he wasn’t so keen on, and oysters, which he loved but made her shudder. “Did you know,” she told him as she fed him yet another, “oysters change sex from female to male and back, which means they help us to experience the masculine and feminine sides of love?”

  He looked slightly alarmed. “Meaning what?”

  “That you’ll be wearing my underwear before the night’s out.”

  “Ah, but you’re not wearing any.”

  “True.” She licked her fingers, not missing the way his gaze followed her tongue. She could see why eating like this was supposed to be sexy. It didn’t really matter what food they ate—the act of feeding each other, and observing the other eat, was the reason for the a
rousal. Watching his mouth close around her fingers, feeling his tongue sweep across her skin, that was the sexy part of this. She thought of what else she had planned, and desire rippled through her. She knew he saw it, maybe in a tightening of her nipples, or the dilating of her pupils, because his lips curved, and he leaned forward once again to kiss her.

  When he finally drew back, she glanced out across the lake. The sun was low in the sky and the water sparkled with highlights. The late February mornings had turned cool and autumnal, but the evenings were still warm, and the cicadas were already out in force, chirruping in the bush. She cleared her throat. “How about some sweet food now?”

  “Mm.” He tipped his head to one side, studying her.

  “What?” She flicked him a glance as she brought out the last few pots.

  “Nothing.” His eyes were full of smiles.

  “I know you have a sweet tooth. So I took extra care with choosing these.” She opened the first one. “Strawberries and raspberries. Red fruit—the colour of love.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  She picked up a strawberry by the green stem and held it up. Keeping his eyes on hers, he closed his lips around it, reminding her of the way his mouth closed over her nipple. She swallowed as he bit gently, brushing his lips with his tongue.

  “I love strawberries,” he said.

  “I know.” She took the bitten end of the fruit, wiped the red juice on her lips like gloss, and pouted at him. “That’s why I got them.”

  He reached across and slipped a hand behind her neck, pulling her toward him. He licked her lips slowly, sending little shivers of delight skittering through her.

  They fed each other the rest of the fruit, and then she popped open the next container.

  “Figs?” he said in surprise.

  “Yep. Figs were used by the ancient Greeks in copulation rituals.”

  “Now that sounds like something I might be interested in.” His eyes glimmered with amusement. “Actually, figs were one of the first plants cultivated by humans. Fossilized figs dating to around 9500BC were found in an early Neolithic village near Jericho.”

  “Useless facts,” she said happily as she cut the figs in half. “That’s why I love you so much.”

  The words left her mouth before she could stop them and she bit her lip, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the knife. Carefully she slit another fig open. She’d told him she loved him hundreds of times before. But not since they’d started sleeping together.