Exposure (3 page)

I didn’t know a kiss could turn my insides
to liquid before I met Nathan. Who knew one guy’s lips could make me crazy with
need and want to do all kinds of things that a sensible English teacher shouldn’t?
Yet I could tell that kiss was affecting him, too. I felt the hard length of
him pressing against me. I wanted to touch him there, but I didn’t dare.

When we stopped for breath, we looked at
each other as if neither us could believe the intensity of that kiss.

He held out his hand. I knew where we were
going as he led me to the bedroom. My body was ready even if my mind was still
panicking. I shivered. But he gathered me up in his arms and planted kisses all
along the side of my neck, pulling me down to sit on the bed, and I forgot to
be afraid. I held onto him and marveled at the effect of every caress of his
lips on my skin.

As his hands unbuttoned my blouse, I willed
him to go faster, to make me naked for him. I wanted to feel him, all of him,
against my skin. I pulled up his white cotton T-shirt and felt every muscle of
his hard stomach and broad chest as his hands explored me and found the clasp
of my bra.

“So beautiful,” he said as he pushed up my
bra and lowered his head to take first one nipple, and then the other in his
hot mouth.

I could only moan in response. He took my
breath away, this guy.

I pulled off his T-shirt and unbuttoned his
jeans all the way, following the trail of hair down, feeling the hard bulk of
him through his white boxers. I couldn’t look at him as my hands reached for
him, but he tilted up my chin and made me look him in the eye then. I didn’t
stop. I wanted to go on touching him through the white cotton even if it
embarrassed me to want to explore that part of him so much.

“Let me see you naked,” he said, his voice
rough with need, and he lifted me up from the bed. I stood between his thighs
hardly able to breathe as he pulled off my blouse and bra, and unzipped my
skirt so it fell at my feet, leaving me naked except for the lace-topped
thigh-highs and panties I’d chosen to wear, hoping he would see them.

He kissed my stomach, soft delicate kisses
full of promise. Delicious anticipation ran through me.

“Oh, I think we’ll leave these on,” he
said, running his finger delicately around the lace top of one my thigh-highs,
sending my thudding heart into overdrive. “I’m a sucker for stockings, but
these, on the other hand...” His fingers moved to explore just inside the leg
of my panties. I could hardly breathe. “...will have to go,” and he pulled down
my soaked panties with one tug, before nuzzling his face between my legs and
taking in the scent of me, making me gasp with need and embarrassment.

“Mmh,” he said, his tongue darting out and
tasting me, flicking over the most sensitive part of me. “So deliciously wet.”

I had to hold onto his shoulders to stop my
legs buckling, as he took my nub between his lips and sucked. I came right
there, right then.

“Oh, Melissa, so responsive. I like that.
We are going to have such fun.”

He peeled off the rest of his clothes and I
could have had another orgasm just looking at his body, the power in him, the
planes of his muscles, his cock as impressive as the rest of him.

I was ready to give as I had received. I
wanted to make him lose control, to make him call out my name, but he wasn’t
going to hand over the reins that easily. As I reached forward to take his
length in my hands, he pulled me back onto the bed to lie beside him and kissed
me—slow, indulgent kisses as if we had all the time in the world, our tongues
dancing, our bodies wrestling to get closer until we were thoroughly entwined.

He ran his hands through my hair, down my
back to my bottom, all over my body as if he could not get enough of me. My
hands mirrored his, touching, exploring down his whole torso, smooth, hard, and
perfect under my fingers.

“It’s no good,” he said, teasing, propping
himself up and looking down at me. “I think I’m going to have to sample these
again,” and he ran his finger gently over my nipple. It hardened to his touch,
and sent another streak of desire down to my core. He bent his head to lap at
my nipples with his tongue and his fingers toyed with the soft, wet folds
between my legs, until I was whimpering with need once again, my back arching
to meet his hand.

He paused to fish for a foil packet in the
pocket of his abandoned jeans, his eyes never leaving mine, and then, having
rolled on the condom, he plunged into me, hard and unrelenting, no question
that he was taking me, thoroughly owning me.

Not that I was protesting. There was no
doubt in my mind I wanted to be taken, to feel him deep inside. The scent of
his skin and the feel of his hard body against mine were intoxicating. For once
I wasn’t sensible Melissa thinking things through. I was nothing but a mass of
aching need as our bodies thrust together.

I loved how he took possession of me with
his body, but it was the way he looked into my eyes as he took me that held me
spellbound. It was as if he was really seeing me, that the sex was as much
about me as about him, that I wasn’t just a woman there to satisfy his needs,
but Melissa, a woman he
wanted
to be with at that moment.

When I came and called out his name, it was
as if the room shattered around me. That had never happened to me. Not with the
idiot I wish I’d never given the time of day to in high school. Nor with the
boyfriend I’d dated for six months in college. No, it took one night with a guy
called Nathan with gorgeous green eyes to show me that sex could be so good.

When I came back to earth, Nathan was
looking down at me, smiling. He had slowed his movements while I came, and now
he was ready to take his own pleasure, hard and fast. He rammed into me over
and over, capturing me, body and soul, and my hips rose to meet his, wanting to
give him every ounce of pleasure he had given me. He called out when he came,
beautiful, yet vulnerable and raw. I think I loved him from that moment, though
I would never have admitted it to myself or to him.

I didn’t know as I lay in Nathan’s bed if there
would be any more nights with him, so I savored every moment, wringing every
drop of pleasure out of it

He made me feel sexy and alive. He made me
feel...oh God...he made me feel loved, I realized. That was dangerous. How
could I fall for him so quickly? I had no defense against him, against his good
humor and charm, his body, his relentless inventive pleasuring of me that felt
to me like making love even if it was only “fucking” to him.

Nothing in my previous experience had ever
soured me against men. But there had been nothing to delight or entice me,
either. Nathan opened my eyes. If he gave me nothing else but that one night he
had forever changed me. I could not experience that level of pleasure and
passion and not want it again.

Was this just going to be a one-night
stand? A guy like Nathan could have any girl he wanted. It just so happened he
had chosen me that night. Another night, I fully expected he would choose
another girl, even though I hated the idea. But when I woke, the sunlight
streaming onto his bed through a gap in the curtains, I still wanted to enjoy
the moment as he lay naked beside me, knowing I’d had that one special night
with him.

He caught me looking at him.

“Hi,” he said, drowsily, “sleep well?”

“I did. I think you wore me out.”

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t resist you.”
He grinned.

“You couldn’t resist quite a few times, I
seem to recall.”

“If you stay naked like that, you’re going
to entice me again,” he said, reaching out to cup my breast and lazily stroking
my nipple with his thumb, until I gave a soft moan and I was writhing with the
pleasure of his touch.

“You know I’m out of a job today, down on
my luck, don’t you? I might need cheering up. Do you need to get home for
anything?”

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

Another day with Nathan! My heart was
skipping a beat. My body was a little tender, but I was ready for more. I
couldn’t deny it.

“Good, because I want to get to know you
better, every inch of you,” he said, and his fingers dipped between my legs.

Another rush of heat ran down my spine, as
if my body remembered everything we had done over the past few hours. “I
thought you got to know every inch last night.”

He laughed. “But not in every way I want to
explore you.”

“Is that right?”

“No, you’re a complete mystery to me here.”
And he kissed the top of my head.

I melted right there. Did he really want to
get to know me? Maybe he did, or he just knew that kind of thing worked on
women. Even so, I liked it.

His phone buzzed. He ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to get that?”

“No. I was going to make you breakfast.”

“A man of many talents. You cook, as well?”

“No, but I pour a mean bowl of corn
flakes.”

I laughed. “Not even toast?”

“The toaster here has a mind of its own. I
think it’s about as old as the cottage.”

“I don’t think they had toasters in the
sixteenth century.”

“So history’s not my strong point. You can
see I need a teacher to keep me right. Anyway, I’ll look at my message, Miss
Hamilton, if it keeps you happy.”

He picked up his phone. “It’s only James.
Early for him to be awake.” Then he clicked a couple of times. “Fuck! That
Taylor woman is a bitch.”

He showed me the link to the journalist’s
blog that James had sent him—a review of the play, not slamming it exactly, but
not effusive in its praise. And in a throwaway paragraph at the end she wrote:

“
The cast was well-chosen except for one
or two. The star would do better to stick at playing doctors and nurses than
attempting to tackle Shakespeare. But then roles don’t always go to those with
the most talent. There was at least one dark-haired male actor riding on Doctor
Devlin’s coat tails. A case of jobs for the boys? Perhaps there’s more to that
friendship than meets the eye.”

“What does she mean?”

“It means she was annoyed I left her in
that corner and ran off to find you. She’s implying I have the hots for James
and maybe that he’s gay too.”

“He told me they had a history.”

“They do. Lasted a week. Worst idea ever,
getting mixed up with a journalist. They have you by the balls. Still, it’s
only her blog, and she didn’t name me.” He laughed. “Not that it matters
anyway, but no one knowing James will believe he’s gay.”

He clattered about in the kitchen while I
lay back down on the pillows and let him get on with it. I didn’t care what he
came up with for breakfast. I luxuriated in the warmth and scent of his bed and
smiled at the memory of his body on me, in me, holding me.

It was only when he appeared carrying a
tray of orange juice, coffee, and hot buttered toast that I realized how hungry
I was. We had skipped dinner. I’d picked at a few canapés at the party, but
food hadn’t crossed my mind from the moment Nathan kissed me at the cottage.

“You made toast!”

“I wrestled the toaster into submission
just for you.”

I laughed and reached for a slice.

Breakfast over, he shoved the tray on the
floor and pulled me to him.

“I can’t decide whether to take you out or
keep you to myself here all day.”

“I didn’t bring anything to wear.”

“In that case, you’ll have to stay naked. I
like you naked.”

“You’re not so bad naked yourself.”

“Not so bad. I’m cut to the quick,” he
laughed, “but I’ll take it, if that’s the only compliment I’m going to get.”

He kissed me then, and talking was over,
talking and any kind of rational thought as he started to show me with his
hands, his mouth, and his body why I had woken up with such a grin on my face.
I was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush when I should have known better. I
knew I was destined for a fall, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I guess it dawned on me, gradually, that we
were an item. We started going out, and after a while, I realized he wasn’t
seeing anyone else. He never said anything. We just fell into step like that. I
assumed after a few weeks, and I think, so did he, that we weren’t going to see
other people. When we were together, he acted like I was the only girl in
England. And I didn’t think he ever cheated on me, though I’m sure there were
plenty of opportunities.

I didn’t trust his friend James so much. I
think he and Nathan had always been a force to reckon with since drama school.
On a night out, James, with his blond good looks, and Nathan, the dark-haired
one, would be a formidable combination, no doubt chasing every woman they felt
like bedding with more than an ounce of success.

James made it obvious he thought Nathan had
sold out, and that he couldn’t understand him giving up his freedom for me. He
didn’t actually say anything to me but whenever we met up, he would remind
Nathan of the good times they’d shared even though he must have known it would
be painful for me to hear it.

He would say things like, “Remember that
blonde in Winchester who couldn’t keep her hands off you? That was a night!” or
“You two going out again? You’ll be getting out of practice.”

I didn’t like to tell him that Nathan was
getting plenty of practice, but all of it with me.

My dates with Nathan were as unconventional
as his lifestyle. In the weeks before rehearsals for the open-air production
started, we built sandcastles on Brighton beach and fed monkeys at the zoo, we
danced the Tango—or tried to—at a tea dance surrounded by smiling and indulgent
seniors, and rode tandem after school to the park where we fed each other
chocolate ice cream. On one memorable Sunday, we even had lunch in Le Touquet
in France courtesy of a friend of his with a pilot’s license. He was like a
whirlwind bursting into my life, lifting everything out of the ordinary and
transforming it into something special.

And in bed it was no less thrilling than
that first night.

I said in bed, but bed wasn’t imaginative
enough for Nathan. Looking back, what we did on that first night was quite
tame, though it had seemed so exciting to me at the time. Nathan liked to keep
things interesting, challenging me, bringing out a side of me I hadn’t known
existed.

Some of it was the way he talked to me,
urging me on. I loved his voice but it was the tone and the words that made me
melt. I could hear him in my mind all day after we had been together, like a
delicious secret. It was ridiculous how his words could turn me on so much, but
I could almost come without him touching me.

And he could talk me in to anything.

“You love it when I make you feel good, don’t
you?” he would say, pausing as he kissed the side of my neck, and I’d smile and
say, “Yes” because it was true. I loved the way he made me feel.

“You want my lips right here, don’t you?”
he might say as he moved down my body, kissing my throat, my chest, and
thrusting my bra and clothes aside to take my nipple into his mouth, and I
moaned out, “Yes” in response.

“You love to feel me here, don’t you?” he’d
say, pulling the crotch of my panties to one side and blowing hot air softly
between my legs, until I was panting with the need to be touched right there,
but he waited until I answered him, only continuing when I said, “Yes.”

Then he would say something like, “You love
how I make you wet, don’t you?” as he fingered me with the gentlest touch until
I wanted to beg, and I moaned. “Is that a “yes”?” he would tease, and if I said
it, he might use his tongue on me, and pause and say, “You love it when I lick
you right there, don’t you?”

On and on. Every answer was yes until I was
lost in whatever we were doing, making me feel naughty, wanton for saying yes
to everything he asked, yet also more desirable than I’d ever felt.

Other times, he’d take me hard and fast
against the wall as soon as we got through my front door, hardly saying
anything, as if he couldn’t wait to get inside me. I felt powerful, seeing his
need for me, just as I did when he took his time.

More than anything, he loved to conquer me
and make me his outside the bedroom. He wanted to undress me, bend me over, and
take me in all different parts of the house, even the rented house in Bicester
he was sharing with James. They had moved there ready to start work on
rehearsals.

Nathan didn’t seem to care whether James
might come in at any moment and see us. I did. At least the thought of James
coming across us weighed on my mind, until Nathan and I were too far into each
other to care. And after we made love, I blushed at what James might have seen
had he come home at the wrong moment.

“You have to stop doing that. James might
have come back just then,” I said to Nathan the second time he made me forget
where we were.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing he hasn’t
seen before.”

“What do you mean?”

“James and I have no secrets. I’ve seen him
with plenty of women in my time. More than enough.”

“And has he seen you?”

“Afraid so.” He had the grace to look
shame-faced.

“Well, he hasn’t seen me. And he’s not
going to. If you think I’m just like all those other women, don’t let me stop
you showing James anything you like—with them.”

I got my things. I was going home.

He tried to stop me. “Don’t be like that. I
can’t help my past. I’m with you now.” He tried to gather me up in his arms
while I stood there rigid. “Hey, Mel, even if you only want me under the
bedcovers in the dark with the door shut tight, I still want you. Only you.”

And so I relented and stayed. It was hard
to be mad with him for long. Nathan had been with lots of other girls in the
past, and I just had to accept it. But whatever I said about not wanting James
to see us didn’t make any difference to Nathan, and after a couple of weeks,
there we were again on the couch and James caught us making love.

Nathan was right. James didn’t bat an
eyelash. He just walked right past with a shrug and went into his room.

But I was horrified. The mood was lost.
There was no way I could go on after that.

“You said he was going to stay out all
night.”

“He told me he was.” Nathan tried to soothe
me. “Don’t worry. Honestly. He’ll think nothing of it.”

I didn’t care what he said. It was too much
for me—James catching us like that. I reached out from under Nathan, and
grabbed my clothes, struggling to sit up.

“Let me out. I can’t stay here.”

“Don’t go home. We can go to my room. You’re
overthinking this.”

“No, Nathan, I’m not overthinking anything.
You might share everything with James, but I don’t want him seeing me like
this. I already told you that.”

“But it’s too late now. He already saw us.
He doesn’t care. Seriously. He doesn’t. Let’s go to my room and I’ll make it up
to you.” He was looking at me with his big eyes again. “Please don’t go home. I’m
sorry he saw us.” He ran his hands through my hair, kissing me gently, trying
to placate me. “It’s okay. It’s only James, and you were under me. He didn’t
see much of you, only your big toe and your elbow.” He laughed. “Sexy though
they are. I don’t think he’ll be writing to the newspapers.”

I ended up giving in to Nathan again,
relentless Nathan with his sweet words, and his coaxing. I stayed, and we went
to his room where I was sure James wouldn’t barge in.

Nathan always made me forget everything
when I was with him, and that time he seemed to pull out all the stops so I
didn’t know which way was up, never mind who heard me cry out when I came.
Somehow, I managed to block out the fact James was in the house at all and
could probably hear us even if he couldn’t see us.

And maybe it was my imagination, but Nathan
seemed more vocal than ever, groaning out his own release as he drove into me
so hard the bed thumped over and over against the wall. He wasn’t always so
loud. Was it a male showing-off kind of thing? I didn’t think he needed that,
but what did I know? And at that point I was beyond caring.

“I bet James heard that,” I scolded later.
“You could have been quieter.”

“Said pot calling the kettle black,” he
said. “You didn’t seem to mind him hearing you when you came.” He laughed and
ruffled my hair.

I didn’t like that idea at all, though I
knew it was true. I didn’t think I would forget James was there so easily. But
I had.