Authors: Rosalind James
“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.”
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.”