Brighton dropped his backpack on the floor and flopped across the bed. He pressed his hands to his eyes, attempting to block out the sound of Professor Simon's lukewarm compliment on his written report comparing the governing bodies of England and America, and his equally indifferent tone regarding his upcoming oral report on England's royal families.
Why was I stuck with Henry the Eighth?
With the long weekend coming up, Brighton knew if he didn't earn a decent grade, his parents would never let him go with Maggie and Grace to visit their grandparents in Nantucket.
I wonder if I can get Gracie to write the notes for my report.
Brighton shivered, remembering his father's lecture the last time Grace did his homework. Snapping his fingers, he knew just the person who could help him. Brighton rose from the bed, switched on his computer, and headed downstairs.
Bounding into the living room, he noticed Maggie and Grace sitting on the sofa, glued to a romantic thriller on television. Brighton started to resist but the pull to torment was just too great.
"Hey twig, have you seen mom?"
Not breaking her attention from the movie, Maggie replied, "Check in the kitchen stupid. Or do you prefer to be called by your Indian name, Plays with Self?"
"Why would Brighton play with himself?" Grace asked absently. "I thought he had friends."
"Not the kind he wants."
Brighton stuck out his tongue and made his way to the kitchen. Doing a quick survey of the room, he pulled a tumbler from the cabinet then opened the refrigerator and took out the carton of milk.
Downing the frosty beverage in a few gulps, Brighton asked, "Niles, have you seen mom?"
"Check your father's office Master Brighton," he replied seasoning the steaks for dinner.
A high-pitched giggle greeted Brighton as he approached Maxwell's office. Raising his hand, he wasn't sure if he should interrupt them.
If I make this quick, I can get back upstairs and they can get back to whatever they're doing.
Brighton tapped on the door in rapid succession. Pressing his ear to the frame, he could hear scrambling on the other side followed by the sound of his father's voice.
"Come in."
"I'm sorry to interrupt. This won't take long."
"You're not interrupting us sweetie."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. Your mother and I were just discussing – "
Maxwell looked helplessly at Fran, hoping she could come up with a decent cover story. With a slight wink, she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and picked up his abandoned statement.
"We were just discussing different positions in – "
"Fran!"
"Society. Sheesh Max, what did you think I was going to say?"
Brighton watched the color drain from his father's face as he sunk into his chair. Clearing his throat, he dismissed the comment aching to leave his mouth.
"Actually that's kind of what I wanted to ask you about. I have to give an oral report on Henry the Eighth and I was wondering if we had any books on England's royalty."
"I can help you son."
"No offense dad but I was hoping Fran would help me."
"Sure sweetie. You know I had to do a report on England's royal families. Although for the life of me, I can't remember why. Have you started doing research yet?"
"Not yet. I came to find you first."
"Why are you asking your mother when you could have asked me? After all I am from England."
"Max, don't be upset that B wants my help."
"Yeah dad, mom doesn't mind. She's always helped me with my homework."
"You don't mind, do you Max?"
Flipping the end of his tie, Maxwell poked his lower lip out and muttered.
"No."
"Oh honey, don't be that way." Fran slid onto the edge of his desk. Running her finger under his chin, she said, "I promise, as soon as I finish with B, we can continue our discussion."
Maxwell grinned, remembering the content of their discussion. "All right."
He stood as she slid off his desk. Snaking her arms around his waist, Fran leaned in for a quick kiss. Maxwell smiled, enjoying the sight of Fran walking out of his office with Brighton.
"Did you know that Henry had six wives? And that three of his wives were named Katherine, spelled different ways of course, and two were named Anne?"
"Six wives? Why did he get married so many times?" Shooting a quick glance at his father, he asked, "Commitment phobia?"
"No! Let me explain it to you."
Maxwell listened as Fran explained to Brighton about each one of Henry's six wives, amazed that she knew so much about his country's royal history.
His smile faded when she told Brighton about Henry's fifth wife. Grace and Maggie looked up to see their father sprint through the living room and up the staircase. Hearing a heavy thud behind them, Brighton and Fran turned as Maxwell rushed down the hallway.
"Max, are you okay? Why are you running through the house?"
"You're wrong," he breathed gulping for air.
"What? You're not okay? What's wrong? B, help your father to your room."
"No, I'm fine. You're wrong about Catherine Howard being Anne Boleyn's cousin. She was a Lady-In-Waiting in King Henry's court."
"She was both Max."
Gaining his composure, Maxwell replied, "Fran, you don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really? Since when are you an authority on everything?"
"I'm not an authority on everything. But this is about England's history."
"So?"
"So? Fran, I'm from the bloody country!"
"Um, mom, dad, – "
"Stay out of this Brighton." Turning toward Maxwell, Fran replied, "I know what I'm talking about and don't raise your voice at me."
He saw a flash of anger in her eyes. Before he could respond, Maggie and Grace appeared in the hallway.
"What's going on?" Maggie asked.
"Nothing for you to worry about Margaret. Please take Grace back downstairs."
Grace looked at her parents. "Mom, dad, are you sure?"
"Yes Gracie, we're sure. Everything's fine."
Maxwell waited until he heard their footsteps fade on the stairs before resuming his conversation with Fran.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you but you don't know what you're talking about."
Fran folded her arms across her chest. "Just because I'm not as well educated as you are doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about."
"Sweetheart, there are many topics that you are familiar with. This however, is not one of them."
"Oh, I feel so much better. You don't know how it fills my heart with joy whenever I hear you degrade my intelligence, especially in front of our children."
"Now Fran, you're being childish. I never said you were stupid, I – "
"Oh so I'm stupid and childish? Well I guess I'm only good enough to warm your bed at night!"
"That's completely unfair Fran and you know it. I respect your intelligence and capabilities. But on this subject, you are very wrong."
She opened her mouth to speak but changed her mind, her thoughts swirling in anger. Maxwell was wrong and she knew it. Fran also knew any argument between them would be pointless. That was the last thing she wanted to do in front of Brighton.
I bet if I could prove my point, Maxwell would...
Maxwell saw a smile form across Fran's lips. Her eyes gleamed merrily and he knew instantly that she was up to something.
"Care to put your money where your mouth is?"
"Meaning?"
"A bet."
"A bet?"
"Yes. A good old fashioned wager."
"What are the stakes?"
"I'll tell you what. We'll write out what we want the other to do and put it in a sealed envelope. The loser must comply with whatever the winner asks. Fair enough?"
"I suppose it's reasonable." A smug look crossed Maxwell's face. "All right, you're on. And to assure there's no cheating, I'll place the envelopes in my safe."
"I don't think so."
Maxwell and Brighton watched as Fran turned and headed toward the stairs.
"Where are you going?"
"Follow me."
They obediently followed her through the living room and into the kitchen, picking up Maggie and Grace along the way. When they entered the kitchen, Niles laid his knife aside.
Quirking his eyebrow, he asked, "Why are all five of you in my kitchen? At the same time?"
Maxwell turned, surprised to see his daughters beside him.
"Margaret, Grace, this doesn't concern you. Please go back to what you were doing."
"It most certainly does concern them," Fran countered.
"How so?"
"This is bigger than a school report Max. This is about trusting my judgment as a parent."
"Very well. They may stay."
"And again I ask," Niles said, "What do you want?"
Fran began to rumble through the kitchen drawers. "Do you have any paper in this place?"
Niles brushed his hands on his apron. Opening the utility drawer, he pulled out a notepad.
"Is this what you're looking for?"
"Perfect. Do you have anything to write with? I need at least two pens."
He fished into the drawer again and found two ink pens. Niles crossed the room and handed it to Fran.
"Thank you." She tore off a sheet of paper and handed it to Maxwell. Sliding a pen across the table, Fran said, "I want Maggie, Grace, and Brighton to sign both papers."
Maxwell looked up. "Why?"
"They're our witnesses."
"Witnesses usually sign after something is written on paper."
"I know that. We're both going to write that this bet is agreed upon this date and the loser of the bet has to comply with the winners demands and can not forfeit or renege on the agreement."
"That seems reasonable."
They both started writing and when they finished, Fran and Maxwell gave their papers to the children to sign.
"May I go now?" Brighton asked. "I still have homework to do."
"Go ahead sweetie."
"Where are you going?" Maggie asked. "Don't you want to know what the terms of the bet will be?"
"Not really. Mom, dad, I'll be back in a few hours. I'm going to the library."
"Just make sure you're home in time for dinner young man."
"So why are you two betting in the first place?" Grace asked leaning against the island.
"It's about an assignment your brother has. Your mother seems to think that she knows more about England's history than I do."
"Like you were such a great student," Niles mumbled.
Maxwell turned in his chair, glowering at Niles. "Butt out."
"Butting out sir."
"As entertaining as this is, we're missing the movie," Maggie said. "Come on Grace."
"But I want to know what they're going to write."
"Sweetie, go watch your movie. No one will know."
"You mean you had us sign papers and you're not going to tell us what you're going to write on it?" Grace asked.
"I have a feeling we're better off not knowing." Maggie pulled Grace's arm. "Come on, let's go."
As Niles finished chopping vegetables, he asked, "Will I get to know the contents of each note?"
"Afraid not Niles," Fran replied. "Do you have any envelopes?"
"I have some in my office." Maxwell rose from the table. "I'll just pop in and get them."
Niles waited until Maxwell left the kitchen. Picking up a dishtowel, he quickly wiped his hands and pulled out the chair next to Fran.
"Okay, dish. What torturous, degrading task are you going to make Mr. Sheffield perform when he loses?"
"Sorry Niles, it's for his eyes only."
"Oh come on. I need something to entertain me until Babcock gets back."
"You heard her Niles," Maxwell replied reentering the kitchen. "Besides she's not going to win."
Shoving the chair back under the table, Niles replied, "It's that attitude that made you pass up Cats."
Maxwell shot Niles a threatening glare then sat next to Fran.
"Here you are sweetheart. Are you finished?"
"Almost." She jotted a few more lines and reread what she wrote. Eyeing Maxwell, Fran's mouth formed a wicked smile. "I'm going to so enjoy seeing you do this."
"Not as much as I am going to enjoy seeing you perform my request."
"Uh huh. We'll see."
They folded the paper, slipped it inside their individual envelopes, and sealed its edges.
"Now what?"
"Niles will hold them for safe keeping."
"What?"
Fran turned toward Maxwell. "Are you saying you don't trust Niles?"
"Who, the annual winner of the Butler's Association Liz Smith award?"
"That hurts sir."
"Well I trust Niles." Gathering both envelopes, Fran walked over to the stove. "Put them in a safe place where neither of us will think to look."
"For how long?"
"It'll probably be only a day or so."
"Yes Mrs. Sheffield. It's nice to know that at least you trust me."
"Wait just a minute." Maxwell rose from the table and crossed the room. Opening the utility drawer, he pulled out a roll of tape. "Bring me the envelopes Fran." He taped down the seams of both envelopes. "You break the seals on either envelope Niles and you're fired."
"Oh that really hurts sir."
Dinner had already begun when Brighton entered the dining room a few hours later. Taking his place next to Maggie, he spoke as Niles fixed his plate.
"Sorry I'm late. I ran into some of my friends at the library."
"Wow. I'm impressed," Maggie said. "Your friends know how to read?"
"Margaret." Resuming his meal, Maxwell glanced at his son. "So Brighton, did you get much work done?"
"I copied some information from a few library books and emailed some links home. I'll start on my report after dinner."
Fran leaned over and asked, "Anxious to lose are you?"
"Don't be ridiculous. I just wanted to make sure Brighton is working on his assignment."
"Mm-hmm." Maxwell peered at Niles over his shoulder. Covering his mouth, Niles cleared his throat. "Excuse me sir. I've got to take something for this nasty cough."
"Oh before I forget, your grandparents called this afternoon," Fran said between bites. "They're coming to pick you up right after school."
Brighton leaned back and yawned. He had been reading for two solid hours and the words on the page had begun to blur. Rubbing his eyes, he stood and stretched before heading downstairs. When he entered the kitchen, Brighton saw Fran fixing a bowl of ice cream.
"B, why are you still up?"
"I just came down to get a snack. I'm still working on my homework."
"Well don't stay up too late. You need your rest."
"I won't. Night Fran."
"Good night sweetie."
As Fran started toward the stairs, Brighton called out to her. "Fran?"
"Yes B?"
"Have I told you how much I love you and that I'm glad you're my mom?"
Fran set her bowl on the counter and wrapped her arms around Brighton. "I love you too son. And I'm proud to be your mom." Giving him a kiss on the forehead, she said, "Finish your homework and go to bed."
Brighton returned to his room and picked up his last print out. Stuffing the last chocolate chip cookie in his mouth, he nearly choked on his laughter. Washing down the remnants with a glass of milk, he stood up and headed for the door. He took two steps out of his room then stopped.
"I won't disturb them now," he said closing his bedroom door. "There's always tomorrow."
Maggie and Grace were already eating breakfast when Fran and Maxwell entered the dining room. Niles waited until they settled at the table before setting their plates in front of them.
"Where's Brighton?" Fran asked unfurling her napkin.
Maggie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I guess he's still asleep."
"I'd better go check on him."
"You stay here and have your breakfast Fran. I'll go check on him."
As Maxwell rose from his chair, Brighton came in with a bunch of papers in his hand.
"Good morning Brighton."
"Morning dad."
"B, how late did you stay up last night?"
"Only a few hours. Would you like to know who won the bet?"
"Of course," Maxwell replied.
"Are you sure?"
"Stop teasing everyone and tell us who won," Maggie said.
Brighton heaved a dramatic sigh. "I hate to burst your bubble but dad – "
"I knew it!" Maxwell declared. "See I told you I was right."
"Dad, you didn't let me finish."
"What? Oh. I'm sorry Brighton. Please continue."
"Okay. Mom was right."
Maxwell nearly spit out his coffee. Grabbing his napkin, he blotted his mouth then threw the cloth on the table.
"What?"
"I tried to tell you Max but you wouldn't listen."
"So what does dad have to do now that he's lost the bet?" Grace asked.
"I still don't believe it," Maxwell replied.
"I knew you wouldn't so I brought proof. Here's a page I copied from a library book and here's a print out from one of the websites I went into last night." Turning to Fran, Brighton said, "So mom, how are you going to humiliate dad?"
"Sorry B, the details of the bet are between me and your father."
"That's not fair," Brighton said. "I think we have a right to know."
Pushing her chair underneath the table, Maggie replied, "I'm telling you, we're better off not knowing. Come on, we're going to be late for school."
Fran escorted the children to the door and waited until the limo disappeared from her view. When she returned, Fran smiled at the sight of her shell-shocked husband.
"Niles?"
"Yes Mrs. Sheffield?"
"Would you bring me the envelopes I gave you yesterday?"
With a slight smirk, he replied, "Of course madam."
For the first time since Brighton's bombshell, Maxwell blinked then looked around the room.
"Where are the children?"
"On their way to school. Are you okay?"
"I still can't believe I was wrong."
"I know. And I can't wait until you see what you have to do."
"Fran, you're not going to hold me to that ridiculous bet are you?"
"Absolutely. You made it in good faith and now you have to honor it." When Niles reentered the dining room, Fran smiled. "Just in time. Thank you Niles."
"Darling, I think we should continue this discussion in my office."
"But Max, – "
"Humor me sweetheart. Please?"
Fran sighed. "Okay."
Before he followed Fran out of the dining room, Maxwell turned to Niles.
"Don't even think of touching that intercom."
"I wouldn't dream of it sir."
Maxwell entered the office a few minutes later, locking the door behind him. Fran watched as he closed the terrace doors and pulled the drapes together. Rounding his desk, Maxwell unplugged the cord leading to the intercom.
He turned on the stereo and waited until the room filled with a light melodic jazz tune before sitting on the couch next to Fran.
"Was all that really necessary?"
"This is Niles we're talking about. Of course it's necessary. Now what hideous torture did your twisted mind cook up for me?"
Fran handed Maxwell the envelope and watched him tear it open. Scanning the sheet of paper, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary until he reached the end of the page.
"You can't be serious."
"Completely."
"But Fran, I – I – I can't."
"You don't have a choice. You signed it. You agreed to it. And our children's signatures validate it. The kids will, God willing, be out of town Friday afternoon. Saturday will be the perfect evening to honor your debt."
Maxwell paced within the confines of the bathroom. This is absurd, he thought. Completely and utterly ridiculous. He stopped and studied his reflection in the mirror: black double-breasted suit, crisp white shirt, and silk gemstone tie.
I look like I'm dressed for a business meeting rather than…
He closed his eyes, banishing his current rumination. His thoughts suddenly shifted as bittersweet images of himself dressed in the same suit and tie flashed in his mind. Their delightful evening at Nigel's club in Paris disintegrated and turned into his worse nightmare.
The turbulent plane ride home. His declaration of love followed by his immediate retraction. An emotionally torturous year and a half of fighting his feelings before facing an ultimatum of loving her or letting her go.
Is this why Fran wanted me to wear this particular suit? Has she not forgiven me for Paris?
A light tapping interrupted his reflective thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through his hair and opened the door.
Maxwell paused when he stepped into the bedroom from the en suite. His eyes slowly took in her scantily clad form reclining against the headboard. He followed the length of her legs, pass the g-string panties, to the red satin bow tied at the center of her chest where both sides of the sheer black baby doll joined.
Fran bit the inside of her jaw to suppress her smile. She watched his tongue dart from his mouth, licking his lips in hunger. Flicking her eyes appreciatively over his masculine frame, Fran shifted, forcing herself to remain on the bed.
Oy, does he look gorgeous! Seeing him in that suit makes me want to forget my plans for the evening. At least one part of my plan!
His voice broke through the erotic fog that surrounded her. Closing her eyes, Fran took a deep breath to clear her mind before focusing on Maxwell.
"What?"
"I said do I really have to do this?"
"Yes Max, you do. You'd have no problem watching me if I lost the bet."
"To be honest, I wish you had."
"Well it's too late for that now baby."
Maxwell sighed in resignation. "I'm not properly dressed."
"Meaning?"
"I usually wear socks and shoes with my suits Fran."
"There's no need for you to put them on. Besides, you won't be dressed that long."
A shy smile graced his flushed features. Regaining his composure, Maxwell cast his eyes downward then met her gaze once more.
"I want you to know that I'm doing this under protest."
"Duly noted."
"You're taking entirely too much satisfaction out of this."
She unsuccessfully withheld her smile. "Why would you say that?"
"Maybe it has to do with that Cheshire grin plastered on your face."
"Moi? Enjoy seeing Mister Conservative strip? Oh yeah." Watching the blush return to his face, Fran laughed. "Besides, your repression is so cute."
"I know that you're enjoying my discomfort but must you video tape this as well?"
"Yes. When you go on business trips, I'll have something to occupy my nights."
"What exactly am I suppose to do?"
"Slowly take off your clothes."
Stretching out her arm, Fran pressed the button on the remote to start the CD player. The pulsing rhythm of the song followed the soft electronic whirl of the stereo.
When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire
All day I've been thinkin' about you, babe
You're my one desire
Maxwell raised his fingers to his neck to undo his necktie. He paused then looked at Fran.
"Darling, what is this song?"
"It's a song from the seventies, Kiss You All Over by Exile. Stop stalling."
"I'm not stalling. I was just…curious."
"Mm-hmm."
Gonna wrap my arms around you
Hold you close to me
Oh, babe I wanna taste your lips
I wanna fill your fantasy, yeah
"Sweetheart?"
Fran paused the stereo. "Yes Max?"
"Where's Niles?"
"He'll be back on Monday. He left for the Melrose right after the kids left."
"What about your parents?"
"In Boca, visiting relatives. And before you ask, Val is on vacation with her parents in Pennsylvania. You're wasting time."
"I just wanted to make sure we aren't going to have any interruptions."
"We won't."
Fluffing the pillows, Fran pushed the button on the remote for the song to continue. She watched his fingers stretch the loop around his neck to remove his tie.
I don't know what I'd do without you, babe
Don't know where I'd be
You're not just another lover
No, you're everything to me
Ev'rytime I'm with you, baby
I can't believe it's true
When you're layin' in my arms
'n' you do the things you do
With an exasperated sigh, Fran hit the pause button once more.
"Why did you stop? I thought you wanted me to – " He gulped, attempting to swallow the phantom lump in his throat, " – to undress."
"Strip, yes. Getting undressed to get ready for bed, no."
"Isn't that what I'm doing?"
"Using your sexy voice is not going to get you out of this Max."
Fran scooted to the edge of the bed and switched off the camera. The baby doll fluttered against her bare thighs as she pranced toward him.
"Feel the rhythm of the song. Or better still imagine that I'm taking off your clothes."
Smoothing her hands over his shoulders, she pressed the button on the remote to let the music resume. As Fran began to sway, Maxwell slid his arms around her waist and drew her body into his.
He scored her skin with his fingertips, tracing feathery kisses along her neck before claiming her mouth in a soft kiss. When Maxwell tried to deepen their kiss, Fran pushed herself away from him.
"Oh no you don't. I was just giving you an idea. You still have to strip for me."
"But Fran, – "
"No buts Maxwell. You lost the bet and now you have to honor it." She eyed him appreciatively then added, "Although you do have a pretty cute tuchas."
"Fran!"
She laughed, watching his blush deepen. With a quick kiss, Fran checked the camera to make sure it was in focus. She slid onto the bed and settled against the headboard.
"Ready?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Not in the least."
He took a deep breath as the familiar pulse of the song began. Maxwell heard a faint hiss when he pulled the silk tie from his neck and tossed it on the oversized chair.
When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire
All day I've been thinkin' about you, babe
You're my one desire
His fingers slid across his abdomen to unbutton the black double-breasted jacket. He shrugged first his right then his left shoulder out of the coat and tossed it on top of his tie. Plucking the cufflinks from his shirt, Maxwell dropped the decorative buttons on top of his jacket.
Gonna wrap my arms around you
Hold you close to me
Oh, babe I wanna taste your lips
I wanna fill your fantasy, yeah
Fran swayed to the melodic rhythm of the song. She leaned forward, watching the descent of his fingers as he unbuttoned his shirt. When he revealed his smooth toned chest, she dug her nails into her palm, forcing herself to remain on the bed.
I don't know what I'd do without you, babe
Don't know where I'd be
You're not just another lover
No, you're everything to me
Fran's mind filled with thoughts of caressing his body as her lips rained soft kisses across his flesh. The mere thought of teasing his body made her sex slick in arousal.
Ev'rytime I'm with you, baby
I can't believe it's true
When you're layin' in my arms
'n' you do the things you do
Maxwell watched her eyes dilate in desire. His eyes drifted across her body, traveling along her voluptuous frame then back to her flushed face. He bit back a moan against the swell of his own arousal.
You can see it in my eyes
I can feel it in your touch
You don't have to say a thing
Just let me show how much
Love you, need you, yeah
He stared at Fran mouthing the words to the song playing in the background. Turning away from her, Maxwell pulled the dress shirt from his body, gradually exposing the flexing muscles of his back.
I wanna kiss you all over
And over again
I wanna kiss you all over
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Her eyes followed the descent of his shirt drifting down his arms until it landed on the floor in a crumpled mass. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes and thrust her hips softly against the conjured image of his body beneath her own.
"Ohmygod..."
Stay with me, lay with me,
Holding me, loving me, baby
Here with me, near with me,
Feeling you close to me, baby
Maxwell's smile broadened at Fran's whispered moan. He turned around, meeting her eyes flushed in need. Sliding his fingers across the waistband of his trousers, he unbuckled the black leather belt and dropped it onto his abandoned dress shirt.
So show me, show me everything you do
'cause baby no one does it quite like you
Love you, need you, oh, babe
Fran's eyes never wavered as he released the tab on his pants then slowly lowered the zipper. She watched his hands push the dark slacks from his hips, letting the material slide down his legs and collapse in a puddle around his ankles.
I wanna kiss you all over
And over again
I wanna kiss you all over
Till the night closes in..
Till the night closes in...
Till the night closes in....
Her eyes closed at the delicious sight of Maxwell clad only in a pair of maroon boxer shorts. In a low sexy purr, she growled, "Come here."
Stepping out of his pants, Maxwell tossed them on the chair and moved toward Fran in the arrogant stride of a hunter stalking its prey. His insecurity was gone, replaced by a hypnotic and powerful confidence. He stood at the side of the bed and smiled down at Fran, waiting for her next move.
Her body shuddered at the raw hungry look of desire reflected in his eyes. Reaching beneath the pillow, she pulled the elastic band of his boxers and tucked a twenty-dollar bill against his skin.
Plucking the money from his boxers, Maxwell tossed the bill onto the nightstand. He reached out and pulled Fran to her full height sidling her along his lean frame.
"Turn around."
He snaked his arm around her waist, locking her in the confines of his embrace. Another shiver passed through her body as his hard flesh pressed firmly into her bottom.
Maxwell scraped his fingertips along her thighs, gathering the baby doll in his hands. He pressed his lips to her ear, his fingers etching light feathery swirls into her skin.
"I love caressing your skin. It's so silky and sensuous to my touch."
His fingers crawled over her belly in opposite directions; one hand slid upward, molding itself around the fullness of her breast while the other hand slid between her thighs. Lightly pinching her nipple, her head fell back against his shoulder.
"Oh god," she whimpered. "No."
Tiny mews of desire rose in Fran's throat when he pressed his hand into her body. The wet heat of his mouth tasting the curve of her neck multiplied the sensation of his fingers rolling the taut nipple held delicately in his hand.
The thrust of his body into hers created a chain reaction of pleasure as his fingers caressed her sex. She wanted him, desperately needed to feel him inside her body. She never made love that way before. Fran always had to be face to face when she gave herself to a man.
Her flushed body teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Fran tugged on his silk boxers, pushing him into her body.
"Please Max. I need you."
"I can feel you throbbing against my hand." He traced the edge of her ear with the tip of his tongue while his hand stroked the fleshy folds of her sex. "Don't hold back sweetheart. Come for me. Give yourself to me."
She swallowed, frantic to hold on to her release. "I want…I want you Max. I want to feel you inside me when I come." He began loosening his grip on her body. She grabbed him, stilling his arm. "No. Take me. Now."
"What?"
"Take me now Max. Please."
Her fingers slid over her hips, shoving the thin material of her panties down her thighs. Fran felt and heard Maxwell's groan as she pressed herself into his body.
"Don't," he warned.
Maxwell unexpectedly felt himself fall forward. As he landed on top of Fran, he heard a rough puff of breath leave her body.
"Fran? Sweetheart, are you all right?"
When she didn't answer him, he pushed himself from her body and gently turned her over.
"Darling, are you hurt?"
"Max?"
"Yes Fran?"
She looked into his apprehensive eyes. Tracing his jaw with her fingertips, Fran smiled.
"Why aren't you undressed and making love to me?"
"You aren't injured?" he asked, his voice tinged in exasperation.
"No, just willing and very ready for my husband."
"I swear sometimes you need to be given a good spanking."
"Oh Mr. Sheffield," she purred tracing the outline of his manhood, "you want to play that game?"
Fran leaned forward, her hands meeting at his waist. She slipped her hand inside his boxers and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, teasing him in tender, languid strokes.
"In spite of your anger, I see you're still very eager to make love to me."
"I'm always very eager to make love to you."
Her fingers tugged on his boxers, watching the silky material fall down his legs. Flicking the tip of his cock with the edge of her tongue, she parted her lips to take him fully into her mouth.
"No."
"Why?"
"Tonight is for your pleasure."
"Making love to you in every way gives me pleasure."
"It's always a hedonistic delight when we make love." With a mischievous grin he added, "But tonight…tonight is for you."
Maxwell's mouth captured hers in a sensual kiss. Parting the crease of her mouth, he softly thrust his tongue between her pliant lips. As their kisses became fervent, Maxwell pushed her backward onto the mattress.
He broke their kiss and stared at Fran. His eyes scanned her curvy figure, awestruck by the erotic picture she created. She was a living breathing goddess laying before him, ready for him to make love to her.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Do you know how much I love you?"
Weaving her fingers through his dark curly mane, Fran smiled at the man lying beside her.
"Show me. Make love to me."
Maxwell traced the fullness of her lips with the heel of his thumb then captured her mouth in an unhurried kiss. His lips trailed down her arched neck to the base of her throat.
He heard a sigh of pleasure escape Fran's mouth as he traced her décolletage in feathery kisses. Giving the satin ribbon knotted between her breasts a light tug, Maxwell spread the baby doll apart one panel at a time.
Fran drew shallow breaths, trying to steady herself under his powerful gaze. A desperate plea of need rose in her throat as his fingers skimmed the curve of her waist. His hands swept upward, molding and kneading his fingers to her breasts.
She craned her neck, arching into Maxwell's hot opened mouth. His teeth and tongue grazed the hard tight peak of one breast as his thumb traced its mate. Fran was lost, sinking under the decadent pleasure of his touch.
Lusty wanton moans passed across her parted lips, echoing and filling the room. Her body shifted, encouraging Maxwell to take her but he halted her movements. She stared at him, her eyes reflecting her confused thoughts.
"I will make love to you Fran. Trust me."
"I do trust you Max. Really I do. I just – "
"You don't have to tell me sweetheart. I want you too." Drawing her into a light kiss, Maxwell replied, "Let me do this my way. All right Fran?"
She nodded, answering him at the same time. "Okay."
Maxwell's hand spiraled down her body stopping at the silky mound between her thighs. He slid his fingertips along her entrance, slowly caressing her sex. She moaned sharply as the slim digit of his hand sank inside her body.
"You resisted before," he said nuzzling her neck. "Don't hold back this time." Pressing his thumb against her pouty clit, Maxwell whispered, "Come for me."
Fran thrust urgently against him, her hips countering his probing hand. Her body shuddered against Maxwell's as she cried out in rapture.
Maxwell soothed her with delicate strokes and kisses until her harsh breathing began to ebb. Dotting her flesh with airy kisses, his tongue left a wet trail across her skin until he reached her center.
"Maxwell," she breathed, unsure if her body could endure the intensity of another climax, "Max, please…"
Maxwell slowly licked the length of her, ignoring Fran's pleas for him to stop. She pushed her hips into him, desperately seeking relief from his probing tongue.
Every fiber in her pulled taut, driving her closer to the edge of pleasure. He teased her, alternating the rhythm of his fleshy pink organ against her soft velvety folds. She moaned his name in an endless cry as a surge of heated bliss racked her trembling frame.
Maxwell pulled Fran into his arms and caressed her cheek, waiting for her breath to settle. Cradling her jaw in his palm, he stared into her eyes then pressed his mouth to hers.
Breaking their kiss, her lips trailed softly along Maxwell's neck to his ear. Lightly nipping his lobe, Fran's whispered words sent an erotic shiver through his body.
"Maxwell, I need you."
He brushed her face in light kisses before taking possession of her mouth. Maxwell felt her body shift under his as he settled between her parted thighs.
Their eyes locked as his hard flesh entered her slick sheath. Fran moaned softly at the unhurried, calculated thrust of Maxwell's body into her own.
Maxwell watched her head drop back as her body bowed into his. His lips descended against her skin, tracing her neck in tender passionate kisses.
"I love you Fran."
With each thrust, he drove a bit more forcefully into her. A triumphant smile crossed his face at each submissive cry she uttered.
"I love the way you love me, the way you give yourself to me when we make love. Just as you love me when I succumb to you. Only you have that power over me."
His palms slid across her thighs, scoring her flushed skin with his fingertips. Maxwell stared at her, watching the shift of power and dominance reflect in her eyes as they reversed positions.
Fusing her mouth to his in a quick kiss, Fran caressed his cheek with the back of her hand.
"I love watching you surrender to me. Submitting yourself in pleasure is more intoxicating than any alcohol in the world."
A low heavy gasp passed over her lips as the familiar spiral of heat wound its way through her body. Pushing the wild curled mass of hair from her face, Fran bit back another moan.
"Touch me Maxwell."
His hands rose, skimming the curve of her waist. She cried out as his thumbs lightly flicked over the taut peaks of her breasts, sending an erotic quake through her body.
Maxwell's hands fell to her hips, anchoring her quivering frame to his. Fran drew out his name in a husky moan, her body lost in a sea of pleasure. His rhythm quickened as the muscles of her womb contracted wildly around him. His surrender followed, breathing her name in a hot tight whisper.
She lay in his loose embrace, their rough shallow breaths enveloping the room. He combed her hair with his fingers, brushing away the stray threads that clung to her face.
Fran gazed into his eyes and smiled. "I think we should bet more often."
"You're just trying to use your superior knowledge to get me into bed."
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"The only thing I want to know," Maxwell asked kissing her temple, "is what took you so long?"
Maxwell drew the sash of his robe around his waist as he made his way down the backstairs. Reaching the bottom step, he paused and watched Fran standing in front of the sub zero. He leaned against the wall, pondering the complexity of his wife.
Fran was a mass of fire, full of boundless energy and enthusiasm. She had a zest for life that he initially tried to resist but once he acquiesced, Maxwell found himself looking forward to the next adventure. Silently crossing the kitchen, Fran's body flinched when he slithered his arms around her waist.
She turned, swatting him on the arm. "Max! You scared me!
"I'm sorry sweetheart." He nuzzled her neck until he felt her body relax. "I couldn't resist. I rarely catch you off guard."
"How long have you been up?"
"Not long. I reached over to pull my beautiful, sexy wife in my arms but she wasn't there."
"When I woke up I was hungry, so I came to get a little nosh."
"That's funny. When I woke up, I was hungry too."
"Why do you think I'm getting a little nosh?"
"I wasn't talking about food Fran."
Raising her eyebrow, Fran replied, "Neither was I."
Maxwell kissed the nape of her neck then released her from his grasp.
"Is there anything you want me to do?"
"Yes, grab a bowl and a couple of spoons."
He opened the cabinet and drawer to retrieve the items. When he set the dish on the counter, Fran looked at him then to the spoon resting inside the bowl.
"I thought we could share."
"Suppose I don't want to?"
"Oh." Maxwell tried to curb his hurt feelings at his assumption. "I'll get another spoon."
Before he could turn away, Fran grabbed him by his belt. "I'm only kidding. Oy, I swear sometimes you're worse than the kids."
An impish grin manifested on his face. "But I usually get my way."
"Not always."
"I know which buttons to push."
She shoved his shoulder playfully. "Other than you, do we have any nuts?"
"I don't know. I'll check the cupboard."
Maxwell lightly smacked her bottom as he moved pass Fran. He searched through a couple of cabinets before finding a variety of toppings.
"We've got walnuts in syrup, a bag of walnuts, a bag of pecans, and a bag of almonds."
"Ooh, the walnuts in syrup sound delish."
Maxwell watched Fran spoon the topping over the chocolate-coated ice cream. His hand darted under the spoon for a quick sample, scooping a dollop of syrup with his finger.
"You're right," he said tasting the sugary concoction, "it is delish."
Fran's eyes locked with his as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and drew his finger into her mouth.
"We'll never get to the ice cream if you continue to do that."
"I can do two things at once."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. Grabbing the bowl off the counter, Maxwell followed Fran to the table. Swirling the syrup and ice cream together, he brought the marbled dessert to her lips.
"Fran, may I ask you something?"
She scraped a glob of chocolate from the side of the bowl. "Of course sweetie."
"Earlier, when we were making love – well it was before we actually made love but when you asked me to take you, did you really want me to make love to you…that way?"
"Honestly?"
"Yes."
Fran cast her eyes downward and pinched her lower lip with the edge of her teeth. She nodded then lifted her eyes to meet his, waiting to gage his reaction.
"Fran, I - I've never made love to a woman that way. I mean the idea of taking a woman like that seemed so…so base before."
"Well I've never felt comfortable having a man make love to me that way either but with you it's different. I know you'd never hurt me." She gave him a sideways glance. "Before? Does that mean you want to?"
"I must admit my curiosity is peaked."
She slid onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. A soft moan reverberated in his chest as Fran scraped her open mouth along the soft skin of his throat.
"Just your curiosity is peaked?"
"Fran!"
She giggled then slid out of his lap and returned to her chair. "All I'm saying is that I love and trust you completely. And if you're up for some…experimenting, as long as we talk about it, we'll be okay."
Maxwell placed a quick peck on her lips. He tipped the empty dish toward him then looked at Fran.
"Do you want anymore ice cream?"
"Just one more scoop. With a lot of chocolate."
"I know. It's not like we just met."
"You're lucky I love you."
"Yes," he murmured, "very lucky."
She watched him fix the bowl of ice cream and return to the table. Reaching for the bowl, Fran scooped up a spoonful of the creamy dessert.
"This needs more chocolate."
She rose from the table and grabbed the syrup from the counter. As Fran pulled out her chair, Maxwell stopped her from sitting down.
"What?"
He tapped the upper part of his thigh. When she began to sit across his lap, Maxwell stopped her once again.
"You do want me to sit on your lap don't you?"
"Yes."
"If you don't want me to sit across your lap, how do you want me to sit?"
"I want you to sit facing me."
"Oh. Now I understand." Fran placed the bowl on the table and looped her legs over his. "You want me to straddle you."
She reached behind her and grabbed the bowl from the table. He fed her a scoop of ice cream, watching the dessert slide into her mouth. Taking the spoon from his hand, Fran fed the next scoop of the sundae to Maxwell.
With each spoonful, she uttered a soft moan thrusting her hips into his body. Feeding Maxwell the last scoop of ice cream, Fran peered into the bowl then looked at him.
"It's all gone. There's nothing left but the soupy remains of an ice cream sundae."
"I'm sure we can find some use for it."
Maxwell tipped the bowl, letting the milky liquid pool at the base of the spoon. Dribbling the melted dessert on her chest, his tongue curled against her skin and lapped the cream from her body.
"You are my favorite dessert."
Setting the bowl on the table, Maxwell tugged at the belt cinching her waist and drew the silk robe from her body.
"You're beautiful."
"Any particular time or just when I'm covered in dessert?"
"Regardless of what you're wearing, you are a beautiful woman."
Fran slipped her arms around his neck, teasing his lips with light kisses. When Maxwell tried to deepen their kiss, she held back, refusing to meet his mouth. At his frustrated growl, Fran fused her lips to his, plundering his mouth in a heated kiss.
She untied his robe, pushing the dressing gown off his shoulders. Her hand weaved a leisurely path down the center of his chest, resting between his thighs. Fran wrapped her fingers around his hard flesh, caressing him in long delicate strokes.
"Fran…"
Fran picked up the bottle of chocolate syrup and squeezed the sticky topping over his chest. She licked the syrup from his body, leaving a wide wet path across his skin. Her lips parted, drawing his nipple into her hot moist mouth.
Maxwell's head fell back as Fran bathed the hard nub with her tongue then trailed across his chest to encircle its mate. Brushing her hair from her face, he stared into Fran's eyes before pushing his mouth to meet hers in a searing kiss.
"You make me want to do things, to say things I never would have done or thought before." His breath was rough and hot across her lips. "Why do you have this affect on me?"
"Don't you think your presence, your very being, has an affect on me?" Fran closed her eyes, attempting to calm the sexual tidal wave that threatened to overpower her. "I've felt emotions that I've never felt with another man. You're my first and only true love Max. Everything else before was shallow and baseless."
"I don't just love you Fran, I am completely lost to you. I'm sorry that I spent so much time trying to escape our destiny. We – "
Fran silenced Maxwell with a quick passionate kiss. She pulled away from him, brushing her fingers across his cheek.
"Max?"
"Yes darling?"
"Make love to me."
Maxwell raised his fingers to her supple skin, his hand conforming to her breast. A wanton moan sputtered from their mouths as he met Fran's body in a sharp thrust.
Their gentle, playful kisses matched the cadence of their bodies. His lips slid from Fran's mouth, following the tilt of her neck. Maxwell braced his hands at her waist, steadying her arched body as Fran pushed herself into his pliant mouth.
"Oh god, Max…"
Her fingers ran wildly through his hair, steering his head toward her breast. Fran drew a hiss of breath between her teeth when his mouth enveloped her taut flesh. Tiny sparks of pleasure burst inside her as his hands and lips danced across her body, licking and caressing her skin.
A purr of delight and satisfaction sounded in her throat when his fingers skimmed her waist, tickling her delicate skin. Maxwell's hands slid down her back until he fully cupped her bottom.
He closed his eyes, letting her lusty moans and sighs wash over him. Maxwell opened his eyes to see Fran close her own against the sound of her escalating breath. Folding his arms around her, he drew her into his body as her climax neared.
Fran slipped her arms around his neck. Kissing the muscled curve of his shoulder, her lips parted and drew his flesh into her mouth.
"Oh…oh…Fran…"
A brief satisfied smile crossed her face. It pleased Fran to know she could make him weaken in desire for her. Tunneling her fingers through his thick curly hair, her body tensed as a strangled cry tore from her throat.
He felt Fran's body wilt against his in completion. Maxwell drew a shallow breath as the inner muscles of her sex pulsed around him. He cried out her name, yielding to his own burgeoning culmination.
Maxwell held Fran's quivering frame in his arms, his harsh and ragged breath mingling with hers. When she was finally able to speak, Fran sat up and kissed Maxwell.
"Who are you and what happened to my conservative husband?"
"He's on vacation until Monday." Maxwell smoothed his fingers across her cheek and returned her kiss. "You know we can't do this with everyone in the house."
"I guess we need to get rid of everyone more often."
"You are a naughty girl Mrs. Sheffield."
Snuggling in his arms, she replied, "What are you going to do, turn me over your knee and spank me?"
"If memory serves me correct, you made that offer to me before. Now I can actually pursue that suggestion."
"You could have pursued it then. You chose not to."
"Well I won't be making that mistake again."
"I should hope not!"
Their laughter subsided and the only sound heard in the kitchen was their soft breathing. His fingertips carried a light breeze as he ran his hands gingerly down her back, creating goose pimples across her skin.
"Sweetheart?"
"Hmmm?"
"Are you angry with me?"
Fran sat up and stared at him. "Why would I be angry with you?"
"I have one word for you. Paris."
"Where is this coming from?"
"When I was in the bathroom, waiting to…honor our bet, I looked at what I had on and realized I wore the same thing in Paris. Memories of what happened afterward came back and I wondered if that's the reason why you had me dress in that suit?"
"I chose your suit because I think you look very sexy in it, especially the tie. It had nothing to do with Paris."
"Oh. Fran?"
"Yes Max?"
"You're not angry now are you?"
"No Max."
"Then it's safe to ask you another question?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Why would you trust Niles with the envelopes knowing he could have steamed them open and sealed them back without us knowing about it?"
"I do trust Niles but I know you."
Maxwell arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean you know me?"
"I knew you'd never let him keep the envelopes without a way to ensure that he couldn't look in them without either one of us knowing about it."
"You planned the entire thing didn't you?"
"Not really but it didn't take much effort to help things along."
"You are amazing."
Fran leaned back and looked at him. "You're just now realizing that?"
"No my darling, just stating the obvious."
"I think we need to head upstairs."
"You're just trying to get me into bed so you can have your way with me."
She slid off his lap and rose to her full height. Fran watched his eyes slowly take in her movements of slipping into her robe.
"Is there something I can do for you Mr. Sheffield?"
Securing the sash to his robe, Maxwell replied, "Do for or do to me?"
"Is sex the only thing you think of?"
"With you? Yes."
He swept her in his arms and headed toward the stairs.
"Max, what about everything in the kitchen?"
"Did we leave anything perishable on the counter?"
"I don't think so."
"Then it can wait until morning."
Entering their bedroom, he placed her on the center of the bed. Maxwell hovered above her, tracing her profile then dotting her face with light kisses.
"So how did I do?"
"Not bad for a virgin. With a bit more practice, you'll be ready to loan out for bachelorette parties."
"Only if you're the bachelorette and I get to come home with you."
"Was there ever a doubt?"
"Then you've got to show me some of your moves."
"Oh believe me, I will."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Slithering her arms around his neck, Fran pulled Maxwell on top of her. Dragging the slim digits of her hand through his hair, she smiled and parted his lips in a full open-mouthed kiss.
"Sleep or jacuzzi?"
Maxwell cocked his head to the side. "Are you sleepy?"
"Not really."
"Well we could get into the jacuzzi and see if anything develops."
"Mr. Sheffield! Are you trying to seduce me?"
"Yes. Is it working?"
With a quick wink, Fran replied, "Carry me to the jacuzzi and I'll let you know."
Maxwell pulled Fran from the bed, pressing his lips to hers in a quick kiss. Her giggles echoed in the room as he swept her into his arms and carried her into the en suite.