Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (10 page)

“What?”

He didn’t look up again. “You know perfectly well what.”

“I’m still waiting to write that article, Toby.”

Esther couldn’t help but smile at that. “Are you talking about the Naughty Nights?”

Faith grinned in delight. “Did he show you the game?”

“She found it by mistake.” Toby added headlights to the car. “Don’t go getting any ideas.”

“It looks fun though, doesn’t it?” Faith’s eyes challenged Esther to deny it.

Two can play at that game
, Esther thought, enjoying the exchange. “I’m surprised you two didn’t give it a go,” she said, indicating Faith and her husband. “It would seem like your kind of thing.”

“Ah.” To her delight, Faith’s cheeks turned pink.
 

“Yes,” Esther teased, “I read all about the Seven Sins. Mars Bars, eh, Rusty?”

He gave her a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Why does everyone pick on that?”

“I’m just glad it wasn’t a Curly Wurly,” Toby said.

They all laughed. Esther realised she was actually enjoying herself. It had been so long since she’d spent time relaxing in the company of people her own age.

“Anyway,” Faith said, “moving swiftly on, are you going around your parents’ house now, Toby?”

“Yes, I think so.” He smiled at Esther. “Are you ready for that?”

“Um…”

“Don’t worry.” He reached over and squeezed her hand briefly. “They’ll be great.”

Faith started collecting the cups. “And don’t forget—we’ll look after Charlie tonight if you’d like to go out.”

“Thanks.” Esther took Charlie from Toby’s lap, deciding she wasn’t going to think about it for now. “We’d better get you washed and brushed up if you’re going to meet your grandparents, eh?” Grandparents. Oh dear God. Things had gone well up until now, but explaining to Charlie’s grandparents exactly why she’d never contacted their son to tell him about his child wasn’t high on her list of ways to spend a pleasant weekend.

In the end, though, it all went surprisingly well. Luckily Toby had spoken to his parents at length the previous night, telling them what happened, so it wasn’t a shock as such when they turned up at their house.

Still, initially Esther sensed a coolness from the efficient, organised Martha Wilkinson, who had clearly wondered what sort of person would keep such information to herself. But merely five minutes after meeting her grandson, who behaved impeccably, right down to his pleases and thankyous when she offered him a biscuit and a drink, she warmed to Esther. By the time they left, both Martha and the reticent Graham Wilkinson expressed great delight at having met her, and told her they’d love to have Charlie for the day if she’d like to go shopping or spend some time exploring the Northland.

“That went well,” she said when they finally got back in the car. Rusty had previously dropped them at Toby’s house, and they’d picked up his car before driving to his parents.

He smiled, heading off back into town. “I told you they’d be great.”

“Your mum was wary at first though.”

“Meh. I knew you’d win her over.”

“Charlie was the one who won her over. You were such a good boy!” She reached over to the back seat and patted her son’s leg. Faith had lent them a booster seat for him, and he sat there now, thumb in mouth, eyes drooping. “You’re ready for your snooze, aren’t you?”

“He can doze on my bed,” Toby said, “if you want to come in for a coffee.”

“Okay.” She was interested to see inside his house. They hadn’t gone in when he picked up his car, although she’d noted that the long, low wooden house that lay tucked amongst the mandarin trees looked neat and tidy—not quite what she would have expected a single guy’s place to look like.

It was only a short drive to the road that led to the Kerikeri inlet. He pulled up in front of the house and she lifted out a half-dozing Charlie. Toby led her over to the front door, unlocked it and stepped back to let her enter first.

She walked into a light and airy living room overlooking the Waitangi Forest. It housed only a cream sofa and chairs and a huge television in terms of furniture, but scattered around the room were numerous wooden sculptures ranging from small koru leaf shapes on the walls to huge Maori fish hook carvings inlaid with paua shell.

“Toby, did you make all these?”

He placed his suitcase and carry bag on the floor and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. A little hobby of mine.”

“Oh my God, they’re beautiful.”

He shrugged, but she could see her words had pleased him.

Charlie toddled over to one and went to pick it up, and she stopped him hurriedly. “No, honey, these are Daddy’s special carvings—they’re not toys.”

“Oh Christ, Esther, they’re only made of wood. I can make a dozen a week. He can do whatever he wants with them.” He dropped to his haunches in front of a carving that curled like a silver fern. “Look, Charlie. See how smooth it is?”

Charlie ran his grubby paw around the polished kauri wood. “Daddy made this?”

“Yes. I’ll show you how one day, if you like.”

Esther’s breath caught in her throat as he continued to talk to his son about how he’d carved the wood in the right shape and then sanded it to make it smooth. His words indicated that he planned to stay in Charlie’s life for a while. Of course it didn’t mean anything—they were just words, and as soon as he got caught up in university life, any good intentions he’d had would probably go out of the window. But the words spread warmth through her, all the same.

Charlie yawned, so Toby picked him up and carried him along the corridor and into his room. Esther followed, hovering in the doorway until he beckoned her in.

She held back the covers for Charlie, covered him up and then sat beside him for a while until his eyes closed before she returned to the living room.

Toby had just boiled the kettle, and he came in carrying a couple of cups of coffee. He opened the sliding doors, and they went outside and sat on the swing seat together, close, but not touching.

Esther sank into the cushions and sighed. “It’s so beautiful here.”

He sipped his coffee and turned in the seat to face her, smiling. “It certainly is.”

She gave him a wry look. “I was talking about the view.”

“So was I.” His eyes twinkled.

His T-shirt stretched across his muscular chest, and his legs were tanned under the swimshorts. He was a wonderful specimen of masculinity, and once again something stirred inside her, long forgotten, like the Loch Ness Monster swimming at the bottom of the lake.

“What?” He tipped his head at her silent observation, amused at her introspection.

It was so warm, she thought—sweat trickled between her breasts, and her hair clung to the back of her neck. Toby’s skin glistened damply. If she touched her tongue to the hollow at the base of his throat, it would taste salty.

The weather had been like this in Fiji, and even though they’d made love under the slowly turning ceiling fan, they’d still stuck together, skin sliding against slippery skin. In the beginning, she’d worried about it and wanted to keep showering, but he’d soon put an end to that. And after he’d licked and sucked her everywhere a woman could be licked and sucked, she’d given in and let him worship her warm body as often as they could both manage it.

What was it about the warm weather that made a person feel so sexy? Conscious of the way the humour in his eyes was gradually turning to desire, she closed her eyes and leaned her head on the back of the cushion.

Don’t do it.
Her brain tried to warn her, but her libido gagged it and yelled
Go for it!

Would it be a terrible mistake, to sleep with him? Not if she kept her heart separate. To fall in love with him would be a disaster greater than the Christchurch earthquake. But it had been so long since she’d had sex. If they just kept it physical, if she held it in her mind all along that eventually she’d go back to Christchurch, what could go wrong? It was the twenty-first century after all—people had sex for fun all the time. Many people were likely to have had thirteen partners, not three. She’d been sensible and cautious for so long—didn’t she deserve to have a little fun? And it wasn’t as if he was a complete stranger—he was Charlie’s father, and although she didn’t completely trust him, and the hurt he’d caused her still simmered beneath the surface, she couldn’t deny that she wanted him, or that the sight of his strong body made her ache to take him inside her.

She opened her eyes, not surprised to find him watching her. He smiled as she looked up at him, and she let her gaze caress his face for a moment, enjoying the gentleness of his warm brown eyes, his wide nose, generous lips. She’d be a fool to pass up on this chance.

Lifting a hand, she slid it into his thick, dark hair and pulled his head toward her.

Chapter Twelve

Toby closed his eyes as Esther’s lips touched his, startled by her forwardness, but more than happy to comply. She kissed him calmly, unhurriedly, and when he brushed her lips with his tongue, she didn’t complain but instead opened her mouth and welcomed him inside.
 

It was perhaps the laziest, most erotic kiss he’d ever had, with the only sounds the singing of cicadas in the bush and the buzz of someone’s lawnmower way off in the distance. The smell of lemons and jasmine hung in the air, and Esther’s lips tasted of strawberry lip balm. Her skin was warm under his fingertips as he rested his hand on her knee.

She showed no signs of wanting to stop, either, clearly enjoying this quiet, gentle afternoon, the peace and heat of the summer day after the cool frenzy of her home in the south island. Affection washed over him for this girl, who’d brought up their son alone, struggled for years with no one to help her through the hard times. True, that had been her own choice, and he still wished she’d tried harder to find him, but it didn’t change the fact that she’d coped alone. He wished he could turn back time and make things right between them, but that was impossible. Instead, all he could give her was here and now.

Kissing her was heavenly, but an urge to pleasure her further flooded through him. He couldn’t suggest anything too advanced with Charlie asleep in the next room, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give her ten minutes of summer-filled bliss.

Moving his hand beneath her loose skirt, he started to draw patterns languidly on her thighs. He continued to kiss her, making the circles wider and higher, until eventually he brushed her panties, and she gave a little gasp and opened her eyes. In reply, he moved closer to her and lifted her leg across his lap.

She gave a bigger gasp at that and tried to sit up. “We can’t.”

He tightened his arm around her, forcing her to sit still. “No, we can’t, but
you
can.”

She flushed at his smile. “I…I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t you?” He touched his lips to hers. “Come for me, honey. Make my day.”

She blinked repeatedly as if shocked. “What about Charlie?”
 

“We’ll hear his feet on the floorboards,” he murmured. “And anyway, it just looks like we’re having a cuddle.”

She breathed heavily, stiff with tension. “I haven’t been touched there since I gave birth,” she whispered.

Understanding dawned, bringing with it a touch of pity—she was worried her body had changed, and he might not like the new her. Little did she know the thought that she’d harboured their son inside her was strangely alluring. Her body was so different from his own—he’d never really thought about it before, beyond the obvious attraction of female curves. But his newfound awareness of her femininity stirred something inside him he’d not explored before. She fascinated him. She’d given him a son. And for that, even though having Charlie brought its own problems, he wanted to crown her with flowers.

He continued to draw circles on her inner thighs. “What’s a stretch mark or two between friends?” he teased. “I’ve got a few myself.”

She gave a short, embarrassed laugh and pushed him. “Idiot.”

He nuzzled her ear. “Why don’t we see if everything still works? Nobody’s watching.” He kissed her jaw, brushed his lips against hers.

She lowered her lashes, but didn’t push him away, so he took that as acquiescence.
 

He began to stroke her through the thin cotton of her panties. She met his gaze, and he smiled when more colour flooded her cheeks. He loved her innocence—she’d been like this in Fiji, wide-eyed and half-shocked most of the time…
Toby, what do you think you’re doing, we can’t possibly…
until her passion had overtaken her, and then she’d met him thrust for thrust and sigh for sigh. He’d loved pushing her boundaries, encouraging her to explore her sexuality with him. It had turned him on, and the mere thought of what they’d got up to in the Pacific paradise now made him hard.

“Close your eyes,” he said, kissing her cheeks, the heat there burning his lips. She did as he bid, although her body remained tense, her hands against his chest as if she might push him away at any moment.

He stroked her a little more firmly, pressing his fingers gently into her soft folds through the thin cotton. “Just relax,” he whispered, and covered her mouth with his, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She made a little sound deep in her throat as she kissed him back, and then she obviously decided to give in, because she melted against him, her body turning soft and yielding in his arms.