Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 (13 page)

Esther didn’t know what to say. Why had their fleeting relationship affected him so much? She knew why it had affected her—she had physical evidence of her transformation, evidence that was currently moving an engine under the dining table beneath poor Rusty’s legs. But why had Toby changed so much when he quite clearly hadn’t been interested in prolonging their relationship or trying to find ways to make it work?

“So you got back home and found yourself pregnant,” Faith said.

“Yes. A few weeks later. I couldn’t believe it—we’d used a condom every time. I know they’re not a hundred percent reliable, but I always thought the one percent failure rate was due to someone not using them right, you know? I never, ever considered I could get pregnant if I took precautions. It came as such a shock.”
 

That was the understatement of the year. She’d nearly fainted when she took the test, and she’d had to hyperventilate into a paper bag in the doctor’s surgery. “The doctor must have thought I was such an idiot. I mean, in this day and age, a woman not realising that feeling sick in the morning could mean she was pregnant?”

“It was out of context, wasn’t it? If you’d been trying to get pregnant, it would have been the first thing you’d have thought of.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Did you try to track him down?” Faith asked the inevitable question that Esther had been dreading, but the other girl’s eyes were un-judgmental, her expression relaxed.

“I did, briefly,” she lied. “But four months into the pregnancy, my father died.”

“Oh, Christ.” Faith looked suitably horrified. “Esther, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. It was very difficult. My mother died years ago, so I had to make all the funeral arrangements on my own. And I just gave up looking for Toby after that.”

“And then you had to cope with giving birth all alone.” Pity settled on Faith’s face. “How awful.”

Esther looked at her hands. “It was hard. I made it harder on myself, I know. I withdrew from everyone—I wouldn’t accept any help. I decided it was just going to be me and the baby. And we’ve done just fine.” She couldn’t help the edge of defensiveness that crept into her voice.

“Of course you have,” Faith said smoothly. “Look at Charlie—what a wonderful little boy.”

Esther bit her lip. “You’re such a nice person.”

Faith laughed. “I’m really not. Especially in the morning—ask Rusty.”

“I mean it. Toby’s your friend. You had every right to demand to know why I never told him he had a child.”

“I wouldn’t presume to ask you that.” Faith looked puzzled. “You’re a grown, educated woman, and I assumed you had your reasons. Toby’s a great guy, but he’s no angel.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Esther said. In the bedroom, he wouldn’t look out of place in a pair of horns and a forked tail.
 

Faith grinned. “Come on, why don’t we see if we can find you an outfit for tonight?” She stood and beckoned Esther to follow her into the living room. “Then I’ll make some dinner. You like fish fingers, Charlie?” She bent to look under the dining-room table.

“With beans?”

“Of course! Got to have baked beans with fish fingers.”

Charlie beamed happily as he ran the wooden engine over Rusty’s feet.

“Sorry,” Esther apologised to the patient teacher.

“It’s okay. Kind of feels like a massage.” He wiggled his toes and Charlie giggled.

Faith leaned on the table next to her husband. “Hey, what kind of clothes should a hooker wear?”

He turned over a paper without batting an eyelid. “Why, are you thinking of earning some extra money?”

“Ha ha. Esther’s dressing up for Toby for the Naughty Nights game.”

He chuckled as Esther glared at Faith. “One thing you need to know if you stay with us is that there are no secrets where Faith’s concerned.”

“I’m beginning to get that,” Esther said.

Faith grinned. “So? Outfit?” She took his pen away.

He paused then and glanced up at her with exasperation. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for a reply, so he sighed and moved his gaze to Esther. He studied her for a moment, starting to smile as her cheeks grew warm.

Then he dropped his gaze and picked up another essay. “The blue dress,” he said, taking back his pen and clicking it on. He started writing.

Faith straightened. “Of course!”

“Ankle length, up to the chin?” Esther asked hopefully.

“Some hooker you’d make. Come on, honey. Let’s see if we can’t make Toby’s eyes pop out of his head.”

Chapter Fifteen

Toby saw her as soon as she came into the bar.

Of course, it helped that he’d had his eyes glued to the door for the past ten minutes, but things had got more difficult when an old friend of his father’s spotted him and came over for a chat.

As Esther walked in, however, Toby stood and picked up his glass. He tried to interrupt the old man, but he was currently in the middle of a story and hadn’t taken a breath for the past five minutes.

Toby nodded politely, hoping the old boy would take a hint considering he was now standing, and his gaze slid over to the woman at the bar. She looked stunning. She wore a skin-tight sky-blue dress he’d seen Faith in once, although Faith had worn it with leggings and a baggy jacket. But Esther wore it on its own, along with high-heeled silver sandals that showed off her shapely legs to perfection. The dress came down to mid-thigh and clung to her curves. The top was low cut enough to show a great deal of cleavage. She obviously wore some kind of bra that propped everything up and out. If she wore any panties at all, they had to consist of hardly any material, because there was no sign of a VPL.

He’d never seen her in anything like this—usually her skirts almost touched the ground, and she rarely wore anything clingy. He’d forgotten what a great figure she had. There was no doubt she drew every eye in the bar.

Okay, two seconds into the evening and he already had a hard-on the size of the Eiffel Tower.

The old guy droned on without a pause, and Toby sighed silently, wondering how to excuse himself without being rude. He glanced back at the bar and then froze at the sight of a guy approaching Esther. Shit.

“Nineteen-thirty, I think it was,” droned the old guy. “The shops weren’t there then, you know.”

“Fascinating,” Toby said, watching the young guy lean on the bar next to Esther and start talking to her. “Well, it’s been great talking to you, but my friend’s here now so I’ve got to go, sorry.”

The old guy looked over at the bar and grinned. “‘Friend’, eh?”

“Special friend,” Toby said, winking.

The old guy laughed. “Say g’day to your dad for me, won’t you?”

“Will do. See you, Ben.”

He picked up his empty bottle and walked over to the bar. Leaning on the wooden surface, he smiled at the barman and ordered another beer.

“Thanks,” he heard Esther say, “but I’m really not interested.”

“Aw, come on,” the guy pushed. “You’re obviously out for a good time. Let me buy you a drink or three and then we’ll go back to my place. You won’t be disappointed—I’ve got a ten-inch dick.” He rested a hand on her butt.

Aghast at the audacity of the male species, Toby bristled and opened his mouth to say something to the idiot, but Esther spoke before he could get a word out.

“Okay, as you obviously can’t take a polite hint, I’ll say this in the sort of language you’ll understand. Fuck off.”

Amused, Toby turned and leaned on the bar. As the guy opened his mouth to retort, he said, “Dude, take a hint. She’s not interested.”

The guy spun around, presumably intending to mouth off to whoever had interrupted him. When he found himself on a level with Toby’s chin, he looked up with alarm. Toby raised an eyebrow. Picking up his beer, the man walked off without another word.

Toby met Esther’s gaze and his lips curved. “Wow, that was subtle.”

“He was being rude,” she said defensively.

“Sweetheart, I meant his comment, not yours. I thought you were remarkably restrained.”

“Oh.”

“I’d lay my house on him
not
having a ten-inch dick.”

“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to find out,” she said, clearly relieved.

The barman came back up with Toby’s beer. Toby nodded at Esther. “And whatever the lady wants.”

The barman raised his eyebrows as if wondering if Toby would get the same treatment as the previous guy.

Esther cleared her throat. “Glass of chardonnay, please.”

He nodded. “Oyster Bay, ma’am?”

“Lovely, thanks.”

As he went off to pour the glass, Toby sipped his beer and studied her. “So he wasn’t the sort of customer you were looking for tonight?” he asked in a low voice.

She raised her lashes and met his gaze. He caught his breath. Something passed between them, sharp and sweet like biting into a chili, and his heart rate increased, blood surging through his veins. From his high vantage point, he had a great view down her cleavage, and he noted that she’d made up her eyes with mascara and dark eyeliner and had highlighted her lips with red gloss. An image leapt into his head of those lips closing around the erection that had miraculously sprung to life, and he started to smile.

Her lips curved in response. “He didn’t look the type who’d be prepared to pay the price.” Her eyes danced. “I’m
very
expensive.”

“I see.”
 

The barman brought over her glass, and Toby paid. When the barman moved farther down the bar to serve another customer, Toby turned his attention back to her. “So you are open to offers tonight?”

“Why else would I come to a bar on my own?” She ran her gaze slowly down him, then back up. “You look the rich sort.”

He chuckled. “I’m here on business.”

“Oh? I thought businessmen wore suits.”

He looked down at himself. The truth was that he didn’t own a suit, and he hadn’t yet picked up the one he’d hired for Dan’s wedding the following weekend. Instead, he wore jeans and the smartest item in his wardrobe—a dark grey, long-sleeved dress shirt embroidered with black velvet thread. “Only to work,” he clarified. “This is a businessman at leisure.”

She giggled. “I wasn’t complaining. You look…” She ran her gaze down him again, then slowly back up. “Nice.” Her eyes twinkled.
 

He smiled. It looked as if she was enjoying herself. He was glad. Something told him that, apart from Charlie, she hadn’t had an awful lot of fun in her life over the last few years.

“Would you like to share a table with me?” He indicated one over by the window that looked out at the palms outside the bar entrance. “Perhaps we could discuss an…arrangement for the evening.”

She picked up her glass. “Sure.”

He led the way over, held out the chair for her, moved it in as she sat, then took the seat opposite. It was a small, square table, and their knees touched underneath. Toby sat back and took a mouthful of beer, watching as she sipped her wine and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She’d taken care over her appearance, with her skilfully applied makeup and curls pinned up to reveal her slim neck, and she’d borrowed a pair of Faith’s hooped earrings. She must have confided in Faith. He knew Faith would have helped her out—she would have taken great delight in having a project. But he was taken aback that Esther had opened up to her. The warmth that flooded through him surprised him.

She looked up and met his gaze. “So… Are you looking for company tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Because if you’re not, I’d rather you tell me now. I don’t want to waste my time—there are plenty more clients in here.” She scouted the room airily.

“Like Mr. Ten-Inch Dick?” He grinned.

“Maybe not him. I wouldn’t go with him if he were a millionaire. Well…” She thought about it, then shook her head. “No, not even then.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He drank some of his beer. “Do you enjoy your job?”

“Getting paid for sex?” She shrugged. “Easy money. Just have to lie there and think about the housework while the client does his thing.”

“That’s nice to know. Now I’ll be wondering if you’re pondering on the vacuuming while I’m going at it.”

They both laughed. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “I’m joking, of course. There’s more to being a good whore than just lying there and thinking of England.”

“There is?”

“Oh yes.” She dipped her finger into the glass, then placed it in her mouth and sucked the drip of wine off it.

He hardened again at the thought of those red lips around him. He’d not seen her act like this before. In Fiji she’d followed his lead most of the time, like a country girl spirited to the city, staring up at the bright lights. Willing enough to do whatever he suggested, but rarely taking the initiative. Which he’d loved, enjoying giving her the guided tour. But this flirty, saucy wench made his heart race.

“Do elaborate,” he said.

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Well, maybe for some hookers it’s just about lying there, but I’m different. You see, I was trained at an expensive establishment, where I learned the art of pleasing a man.”