Jess decided after her third glass of wine that it definitely wasn’t working. So she put the half-drunk bottle back in the fridge and headed for the bathroom. A long, hot bath filled in another hour but didn’t relax her one iota. She’d just emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a nightie, when she heard a car screech to a stop in front of the cottage. Running to the front living room, Jess peered through the curtains in time to see Ben climb out of the back of a taxi.
Flustered—what on earth was he doing home this early?—she whirled to make a dash for the bedroom, in her haste catching her left foot under the curled up corner of a rug. She cried out as she fell, her hands bracing themselves to protect her face whilst her knees hit the wooden floorboards with a painful thud.
Ben heard Jess cry out as he made his way up onto the front veranda. He dashed inside, switching on the hall light and calling her name at the same time.
He found her sitting back on her haunches in the semi-dark on the living-room floor, dressed in a red satin nightie with spaghetti straps which showed off her gorgeous figure. Her lovely hair was down, spread over her shoulders in dishevelled disarray, adding to the criminally sexy picture she presented.
‘What happened?’ he asked, and held out his left hand to help her up.
‘I fell over,’ she said, but made no move to take his hand, her eyes on her ground. ‘My foot got caught under the rug.’
‘I see,’ he said, not seeing at all. What was she doing in this room, anyway? The lights weren’t on. Neither was the television. ‘Well, do you want to take my hand or are you going to stay there all night?’ he said, his tone betraying his inner frustration.
She glanced up at him.
Jess only just managed not to groan out loud. God, but he looked utterly gorgeous dressed in grey stone-washed jeans, an open-necked white shirt and a fabulous looking charcoal-grey jacket.
Finally, she placed her hand in his, his fingers closing tightly around hers as he pulled her to her feet.
‘What on earth are you doing home this early?’ she asked whilst she tried to ignore the direction of his gaze. Right where her erect nipples were poking against the red satin. Maybe he would think she was cold. Though she wasn’t, having turned off the air-conditioning when she’d got home. The temperature had dropped considerably once the sun had gone down but it was a nice twenty-three degrees inside the cottage.
‘Do you want the truth?’
‘Of course.’
‘I told Andy I had a vicious headache and that if he wanted me on deck tomorrow, then I should go home.’
‘And do you? Have a vicious headache?’
‘No. I simply couldn’t stop thinking about you.’
Jess tried not to let his flattering words seduce her but it was way too late for such a futile struggle.
‘I’ve been thinking about you too,’ she admitted somewhat shakily.
‘So do I still have to wait till tomorrow night?’
She shook her head.
She half-expected him to kiss her then but he didn’t. Instead, he just smiled.
‘I need a shower,’ he said. ‘I smell of beer. Can I tempt you to join me?’
The desire to lick her suddenly dry lips was intense but somehow she resisted. Jess swallowed instead, putting some moisture into her mouth. ‘I…I’ve just had a bath,’ she said, her voice thick and throaty.
‘Then you can come and watch.’
Jess blinked at him, her mouth falling open briefly before snapping shut again.
‘All right,’ she said, wondering if this was what he’d meant earlier about her liking him telling her what to do.
She did. Which was weird. If Colin or any of her other boyfriends had suggested the same thing to her, she would have told them to get lost. Bathrooms were private places, in her opinion. They weren’t places where you watched. Yet she wanted to watch Ben shower, didn’t she? She wanted to see him naked. Wanted to do all sorts of things she’d never done before.
Her head spun at the thought.
When she didn’t move, he frowned at her. ‘You’ve changed your mind already?’
Changed her mind? Was he insane? How could she possibly change her mind when she’d already lost it?
She shook her head.
‘Good,’ he said, and held out his hand to her again.
BEN LIKED THE WAY Jess let him lead her meekly into the bathroom. He could tell she was turned on, the same way he was. Even the slightest touch turned him on with her. It was quite incredible, the effect she had on him. But nothing he couldn’t control, now that she was being deliciously cooperative.
He settled her, somewhat stunned-looking, on the side of the claw-footed bath, then started undressing.
* * *
Jess could not believe she was doing this, sitting there watching whilst Ben took all his clothes off in front of her. But, dear heaven, it was exciting!
After he kicked off his shoes, he removed his jacket and then his shirt, revealing an upper half which didn’t look like it spent all day seated behind a desk. He must work hard in a gym, she decided, or go swimming a lot. His light tan suggested this might be the case. He had broad shoulders, one of which carried a nasty bruise. But it didn’t seem to stop his arm working. His chest muscles were wide and well-toned, his stomach a surprising six-pack. Very little body hair, she noted, and liked.
Jess held her breath when he whipped the belt out of his jeans, but he just dropped it on the floor, then ran the zipper down. When his hands hooked under the waist band and pushed down, she finally let go of the air trapped in her lungs.
He was wearing black underpants, made out of a silky material which hid nothing.
She wondered if he was as big as he looked. Jess had always believed that size did matter. To a degree. She liked a man to be well built in that area.
He was. Bigger than her previous boyfriends. And magnificently erect. Circumcised, with only a smattering of fair hair at the base. She knew he would feel—and taste—fantastic.
He stood facing her, a golden Adonis in every way.
‘Now you, Jess,’ he commanded. ‘Stand up and take that nightie off. I want to see all of you.’
She stood up onto shaky legs, utterly compelled to obey him. Her belly tightened as she slowly slipped the straps off her shoulders, first on, then the other. She wasn’t wearing any undies. She never wore undies to bed. The nightie slid down her body with a whoosh, pooling around her feet on the tiled floor.
His gaze dropped down to those feet first, then gradually travelled upwards, lingering on the neatly waxed V of curls between her thighs, before lifting to her breasts.
‘Beautiful,’ he said.
Jess knew she was attractive, but she’d never considered herself beautiful. She had physical flaws, like most people. Couldn’t Ben see that her nose was too big for her face? So was her mouth. The back of her thighs had some dimples of cellulite which no amount of massage or cream could remove, though he wouldn’t see that unless he ordered her to turn around.
Jess suspected Ben wasn’t about to do that. He was enjoying looking at her breasts too much. Admittedly, they were the best feature of her figure. Full and high, with perky pink nipples that grew astonishingly in size when they were played with. Or when she was excited. Which she was right now. God, yes. Her whole breasts seemed to be swelling under