Instruction in Seduction (8 page)

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 suffered 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.

“Nick here?” Andy asked leaning on the doorframe and flexing his biceps. “Any chance of a cuppa? Ailsa, since you’re making?”

Ailsa narrowed her eyes. “You could try making it as payment for lodgings. This is my home. Lisa’s my tenant. And somehow we’ve managed to pick up a new pet called Andy Ferguson.”

Just then the phone rang on the kitchen wall beside him. He picked up the receiver like he really lived there. “Chez Ailsa and Lisa, Andy speaking. The ladies of the house are busy overthrowing the Earth with their evil plans for universe domination.”

They watched him handle the call after rolling their eyes. “Hi Nick. You watching the match? Poor passing in general but the goal in the nineteenth minute was a triumph. Yes Ailsa’s here. But she’s ratty. Kid gloves required, mate.”

Ailsa glowered at the phone and then Lisa. Then made pleading eyes.

Lisa sighed and took it. “She’s just left. Can I take a message? You’ll wait? Er, she’s having a bath. Some of Ailsa’s soaks are longer than a marathon in clogs.”

Ailsa walked from the room and jostled Andy on her way out of the door.

“When we have sufficient water,” Ailsa whispered hoarsely as she passed.

“Okay. Okay.” Lisa was scribbling notes from Nick’s message on the pad by the fridge. “I’ll get her to call. See you. Take it easy. Bye then.”

After replacing the handset Lisa tore off the page and read aloud, “Says whatever you think, it’s not his wife. And never has been but he has a son who is seven. He wants to talk; he was going to tell you about Jake. Here’s his mobile number. He says he won’t give up.”

Ailsa thumped upstairs in her slippers. “Men do go on so.” The retort was aimed at Andy as much as Nick Palmer.

Too scary. Don’t go there, a reprieve is better than a mistake
, said her inner nun voice.

“You should call him,” Andy opined from the kitchen where he was still standing like the lord of the manor. “You shouldn’t sleep on an argument, dearie.”

“Just go and make tea yourself,” she shouted. “Before I resort to building you a kennel at the bottom of the garden.”

***

As it turned out Jake, Nick’s son, broke an arm turning skateboard tricks.

It hadn’t been a big scary hospitalisation but Amanda, as usual, over-reacted and opted for maximum dramatisation. Sadly the reception clerk at
Chez Angelle
had taken the message wrong or Amanda purposefully promoted herself to ex-wife.

He and Amanda never married; she’d turned his offer down. It hadn’t left him devastated. They’d never been a forever pairing from the off.

And the ‘Jake in Hospital affair’ had been a quick in, out, fix him up and cuddle him scenario. Nick talked to his son who told him he’d regarded the whole affair as a great adventure and the arm cast was upping his cool cred no end.

Nick turned out of the hotel lobby and started to pound the Royal Mile, dodging the sightseeing tourists on steady hard Palmer jog pace. He felt the sweat build and coat his body. Felt the breathing come hard and fast from his chest.

As Nick couldn’t get Ailsa out of his crazy, sense evading mind there was but one answer; full on jogging that punished the body. His conscience needed a good battering because Nick knew he should have told her about his circumstances and Jake long before he’d got her up to his room.

She didn’t call. The message was crystal clear. She didn’t want to see him. She’d decided it was a bad move.

It grated inside him that he couldn’t even explain about the amicable arrangement he’d had with Amanda since Jake was born. That Ailsa wasn’t interested in his long suffering single Dad status. It further irritated that the mention of Jake was the kiss of death to his sex appeal.

Jake was his wonderful, handsome, bright, funny boy child; the miracle outcome of an unfortunate brief fling gone pear-shaped.

And while Nick couldn’t regret something that brought him something so wonderful, there were times he’d regretted hastiness. Ailsa didn’t want to know about his personal life apocalypse turned salvation.

She did not view Nick’s fatherhood history as a ‘must hear’.

But just remembering Ailsa’s addictive, captivating crazy mix of innocence and drop dead sexy diva, he was hooked. Even though he’d no hope of ever making it up to her.

Then there was Sally. She was fragile right now for knock backs. That was why he was here.