The kiss was just what she needed. Trudy basked in the long and lingering exchange. Bill’s hands cupped her face and she wrapped her arms around him in a ferocious embrace. She could detect the notes of citrus and sandalwood in his cologne. His nearness, as always, filled her with a dark, excited longing.
‘I’ve been very naughty, Mr Hart,’ she whispered.
‘Naughty?’ He sounded thrilled by the prospect. ‘What have you been doing, Ms McLaughlin?’
She wasn’t sure where to begin. Or how much she ought to tell him. The complexity of the situation was maddening but she wouldn’t let herself be upset by it. They were alone together and there were more important things to address than the irritation of being confused.
‘Donny’s causing trouble again.’
‘Donny’s always causing trouble,’ Bill reminded her. His hands still held her face. He squeezed his words between the kisses he left on her face. ‘What’s the barmpot done to Sweet Temptation this time?’
She shook her head. She didn’t bother asking him what ‘barmpot’ meant. It was clear that it wasn’t a compliment.
‘This time his attack wasn’t against Sweet Temptation. This time he’s upset Daryl and destroyed the thing she had going with Beatrice.’
‘Is Beatrice the topless model?’
Trudy nodded. ‘Donny posted some compromising pictures of Daryl online. Beatrice wasn’t happy. She dumped Daryl.’
‘The pictures were so compromising that she got dumped by a topless model?’ He sounded incredulous.
Trudy shrugged. ‘They were very gratuitous pictures.’
Bill shook his head. ‘That bastard needs a proper braying.’
Trudy didn’t bother to ask him what ‘braying’ meant either. She had heard him use the phrase before and knew that it was some form of punishment. She thought, if she was being honest with herself, Bill was right. Donny needed to be taught a lesson.
‘Does this mean he’s no longer waging a personal vendetta against you?’ Bill asked. ‘Instead of trying to embarrass you, is he moving on to other targets?’
Trudy considered the idea and shook her head. She’d still been receiving abusive texts from Donny. He showed no signs of letting up on his personal vendetta. And she had the sneaking suspicion that he’d only hurt Daryl because she was Trudy’s friend and he knew Trudy would share her misery. Brooding on that thought, Trudy wondered if he was likely to try and cause distress to any of her other friends. As a strategy for causing trouble, it sounded like something Donny would consider acceptable.
Bill brushed the matter of Donny’s behaviour aside. ‘We can talk about that pillock later. But tell me, how does any of that make you naughty?’
She swallowed. ‘OK. Maybe I just mentioned Donny’s latest escapades so I didn’t feel like I was keeping secrets from you. But I have been naughty.’
‘How?’
‘I went out on a date the other night.’
His brow creased. His eyes narrowed. His mood looked dark. ‘You really went on a date? I thought you were just saying that at the wedding to make me feel mardy.’
This was the first time she had seen Bill appear jealous. She didn’t like that she’d caused him to frown but she couldn’t deny that a part of her was thrilled by the sight of envy on his features. If he was jealous, that surely proved that he cared, didn’t it? She wouldn’t let herself wonder why she needed proof that Bill cared. It was enough to revel in the evidence.
‘I went on a date,’ she repeated. ‘His name’s Mark. He’s a doctor at the local A&E. We went to that bistro, the Chekov, in the town centre. I had the most delicious stroganoff I’ve enjoyed in ages and Mark had –’
‘Where did you meet him?’
She tried not to shiver. There was so much menace in his voice that she feared, if they were to indulge in their usual spanking games, he would likely leave bruises. The thought made her inner muscles fluid with a rush of liquid longing. She resisted the urge to touch herself as she listened to the dull fury in his tone.
‘It was a blind date.’
‘Why the hell are you going on blind dates with doctors?’
‘It’s not blind dates in the plural,’ she snapped. She pulled away from his kisses so she wasn’t distracted by her arousal. ‘And it wasn’t doctors in the plural. I went on a single blind date with a single man. The reason I did it was because Daryl set me up. And the reason I didn’t back out of the date was because I couldn’t have said no without telling her about our secret arrangement.’
He pressed his lips together. He looked like he was about to apologise but she held up a hand, stopping him before he could begin. She had no desire to hear apologies.
‘He was very nice,’ she said acidly. ‘We got on so well together I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to marry his ex-wife next week.’
Bill flinched. His eyes had been narrow before. Now they were slits.
‘If you really want to hear about how naughty I’ve been,’ Trudy went on, ‘perhaps I should tell you about my lying? Should I confess that I’ve been naughty by keeping our relationship a secret from my closest friends?’
For a long while he said nothing.
They studied each other in broody silence. When Bill finally opened his mouth he looked at her with a roguish smile and said, ‘It sounds like you’ve been very naughty, Ms McLaughlin. I do believe you need serious punishment for that sort of behaviour.’
They laughed together and then embraced and it was enough to banish the threat of the argument that had promised to erupt between them. When he took her in his arms she knew that they had forgiven each other. She felt relieved that the bad atmosphere hadn’t been allowed to fester.
‘You know I’m not doing this for Aliceon, don’t you?’
She shushed him with kisses. They had discussed this before.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘You’re doing it for Imogen. You’re doing it for baby Bill.’
Bill’s decision to remarry his ex-wife Aliceon had been somewhat unexpected. But Trudy knew it wasn’t motivated by his love for the woman. He had done it because Aliceon was on the verge of being deported. Trudy didn’t fully understand the complexities of the situation but she could see why Bill had gallantly thrown his ex-wife the lifeline of a convenient remarriage. If Aliceon had been deported that would have left Bill’s daughter Imogen without a mother. It would have meant Imogen’s son would grow up never knowing his grandmother. And it would have meant that Boui-Boui lost a talented and respected maître d’.
Even the secrecy made sense.
Both Trudy and Bill were enjoying mild flushes of celebrity. Unless they maintained a convincing, continuous pretence of Aliceon and Bill’s marriage being genuine, the whole sham would fall apart and the sacrifice would have been for nothing. If it got out that they were still involved in a relationship, the scandal would be excruciating and embarrassing. For Aliceon it would mean she was taken away from her only family and the country she had come to call home. For Imogen it would mean the loss of her mother and her baby’s grandmother.
‘You’ve been very understanding about all this,’ Bill told her.
‘It wasn’t like I had an option.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m just saying thank you. It is appreciated.’
He brushed a finger against her cheek, moving a stray blonde curl behind her ear. Then he was kissing her again and this time she responded without hesitation. She wriggled into his embrace and savoured the way he managed to excite every millimetre of flesh by simply kissing her mouth and stroking his hands over the curves of her scantily clad figure.
They were in another motel room.
The furnishings were so bland that Trudy couldn’t tell if it was somewhere she’d never previously visited, or one of those where she and Bill regularly liaised. Usually Bill checked into a motel. He’d send a text saying which room he was staying in and she’d visit him.
The arrangement had a deliciously seedy feel that always added fuel to her arousal. If any of her friends, such as Charlotte or Daryl, knew what she was doing, Trudy thought, they would say she was nothing more than a convenient booty call.
But Trudy knew it was more than that.
She was sure it was more.
Even if it wasn’t, she could argue that she was getting as much from each late-night rendezvous as Bill was enjoying. Considering the amount of pleasure he usually gave her, she’d have been happy to claim that she got more from the arrangement.
She stopped her mind pursuing those details. She didn’t want to be a mere booty call and it felt like she was trying to argue against the thought.
It was easier to do as Bill instructed and bend over the motel room’s cabinet. She was wearing a short skirt, black stockings and heels. There was a mirror above the cabinet and she could have studied her reflection or smiled at Bill as he stood behind her admiring her rear. She had worn a low-cut top for the evening and, bending over the cabinet, her reflection was displaying an enticing valley of cleavage.
She glanced at Bill’s reflection and wondered if he had noticed.
He was staring at her rear. His grin was broad as he appraised her raised backside. His finger stroked lightly against the seam of her stockings and then smoothed up beneath the hem of her skirt. She could feel the fabric being lifted. The movement was a tender caress that she associated with so many shared pleasures. When he peeled the skirt away from her cheeks, exposing the panties pulled taut across her buttocks, her need for him swelled urgently.
‘Ms McLaughlin,’ he muttered. ‘You really do have the most splendid backside.’
‘Thank you, Mr Hart.’
Inside her bra, her nipples were so hard they hurt. The muscles inside her sex clutched and clenched as though they yearned for his touch. Her stomach felt queasy with her mounting need for him.
Gently, with the skill of an artist unveiling a cherished creation, Bill began to slip the panties from her buttocks. His touch was soft. His hands were firm and warm. He slid the panties from her cheeks, over her thighs and down to the floor.
Trudy’s arousal went into overdrive.
‘Move your legs slightly apart,’ Bill murmured.
His fingers were on her upper thigh, touching with an intimacy that made her crave him. She could feel the accidental caress of his knuckles touching the slippery wetness of her excitement. It was the subtlest of contacts. But it was enough to have her weeping with need for him.
She responded immediately.
Glancing back in the mirror she could see his interest remained fixed firmly on her rear. His focus was so concentrated she could almost feel the weight of his gaze on her backside.
‘You seem very excited, Ms McLaughlin.’
‘I am very excited, Mr Hart.’
He slid a finger through her wetness. His touch was a delicious balm that urged her body close to the thrill of orgasm. She held her breath and wondered if he would be able to push her past that climactic response with such a simple touch. A moment later, when he slipped his finger away, she didn’t know whether she was groaning from relief or disappointment.
‘And I think we’re agreed that you have been very naughty,’ he decided.
He stepped back and his hand landed heavily on her backside.
It wasn’t technically a spank. The sensation wasn’t sharp enough for that. But Trudy could already feel the pale skin of her backside blushing from his weighted caress.
‘As you say, you’ve been deceiving your friends.’
The hand landed against her rear for a second time. This time there was more weight there. Trudy refused to let her eyes close as the pleasure rolled over her. She basked in the thrill of the sensations flowing through her body. There was a mild frisson of discomfort accompanied by a spreading flush of raw heat.
‘You’ve also refused to consider returning to Boui-Boui,’ he reminded her.
The hand landed with more force this time. She heard the crisp smacking sound just after she felt the ripple of stiff discomfort thrill through her cheeks. His tone of voice, although ostensibly playful, now held an undercurrent of seriousness. ‘I offered to increase your salary and amend your hours.’
The hand landed again. Harder. More powerful.
She gasped.
‘But you’re still avoiding my restaurant.’
‘It would be awkward working there.’
She said the words softly but with absolute conviction. Working alongside him had always been a pleasure. He made her smile. She could spend a day beside him and be dizzied by her swelling need. There was something about the way he spoke to her that inspired her constant arousal. If she had to work alongside him now, and was forced to pretend that they were no longer in a relationship, it would be unbearable.
‘We’ve spoken about this,’ she reminded him. ‘It would be too awkward.’
In the mirror she could see him nod. ‘I appreciate it wouldn’t be easy,’ he agreed. ‘But I still need to find reasons to legitimately punish you. And complaining about you being away from the restaurant seems like the closest thing I’m going to get to a legitimate excuse.’
She nodded and braced herself for another slap on her backside.
‘In that case,’ she admitted, ‘I’ve been very naughty and I need punishing, Mr Hart. Give it to me as hard as you can.’
His hand slapped against her rear.
She stiffened, shocked by a delightful blend of discomfort and pleasure. As the waves of escalating excitement rippled through her, Trudy wondered if he knew how much she wanted him.
The punishment was only a small part of what they did.
She savoured the hypersensitive redness of her backside and stifled groans of mounting eagerness. When he finally deigned to penetrate her, sliding himself deep into her and taking her from behind, the first of the evening’s orgasms burst through her loins in a fluid eruption.
It was a divine experience.
Bill rode her for half an hour and it was a period of delicious sensory overload. His length slipped easily in and out, stretching her tightness and filling her to such depths she teetered on the brink of losing consciousness. He held her with a possessive ferocity that was both frightening and warming.
By the end of the evening Trudy felt weak from the repeated climaxes. The muscles inside her sex ached from the excess of exertion. Her knees felt ready to give. She had been bent over the cabinet when they began. Now she was slumped across it, using it for support.
Bill pushed into her with deep and vigorous strokes. He clutched her hips in his strong hands and repeatedly pulled her back to meet the thrust of his erection. When his climax finally came he gripped her tight as his length throbbed and pulsed in her deepest depths.
The sensation was enough to fire a final orgasm through her inner muscles. It was a sweet and savage bliss that tore through her body with enough satisfaction to make her want to sob.
They staggered away from the cabinet and the mirror and collapsed on to the bed together, laughing and embracing. He encircled her in his arms and hugged her passionately.
‘We shouldn’t be doing this in motel rooms,’ he sighed.
She refused to let herself agree. ‘It’s what we need to do for the moment,’ she reminded him. ‘As soon as we can do it differently, we’ll do it differently.’
He ran a finger down her cheek. ‘I do intend to do right by you.’
‘I know,’ she said, nodding. ‘I’ve never doubted it.’
‘Harvey’s working on securing Aliceon’s citizenship.’ He shrugged. ‘Technically it’s naturalisation but I suppose that’s quibbling over word meanings. But Harvey’s working hard on securing her status in the country.’
Trudy nodded sympathetically. She and Bill had discussed this previously. He had explained, several times, that Aliceon claimed she had once had the paperwork confirming her British citizenship. She couldn’t find her copies of those documents, and had repeatedly turned her cottage upside down as she tried to locate them, but she still insisted that they had once existed.
‘We will be together soon,’ Bill promised.
‘I know,’ Trudy agreed.
She might have said more but her mobile chose that moment to break the mood with the announcement of a text message. For the past few weeks she had been reluctant to address text messages because the majority of unexpected ones seemed to come from Donny and usually contained a threat or a vindictive subtext.
Nevertheless, she checked the message and was relieved to see it was not from Donny. This was from Charlotte and it offered an invitation she didn’t want to accept.