The Switch Read online

  Beth waited for her knight on the steps to the great tower, beside but slightly behind his lady mother with her eyes downcast as was proper. Excitement bubbled up inside her and she could hardly wait to be alone with him.

  He rode in at the head of his guard, their horses’ hooves stirring up the dust and sending the assembled crowd into a fury of welcome. Women cried, children shouted and dogs barked. His great white warhorse sidled but quickly steadied under his firm hand. A groom ran to its head and he swung down easily.

  He came up the steps, sword swinging at his side and armor clanking, and she felt his eyes find her, while he stripped his gauntlets off. She gave him a small smile and waited modestly while he greeted his mother. Then he came to her at last. She began to bow but he caught her face in his hands, halting her public homage.

  “Little dove,” Sean murmured and kissed her on the mouth. Sweeter than honey but not for nearly long enough. His hands gripped her shoulders hard, just short of bruising her. She leaned closer, yearning for more. But he lifted his head finally and smiled down at her, a cruel satisfaction curling his hard mouth.

  “I destroyed the scum who insulted you. The monks chant prayers for his soul now, and his brother vowed to build a chapel to Saint Elizabeth, your patron.”

  She smiled, a savage delight gleaming in her eyes. It was not Christian to hate an enemy or be so glad at his death. Still, she had not been a Christian until her knight married her and old habits died hard. If her knight had been injured while dealing with that creature, she would have ruined the foul beast herself.

  He kissed her again, hard and fast, heedless of their watchers. She yielded quickly, embarrassed at enticing him. She should have remembered that he liked occasional ferocity in his lover.

  “Soon, little dove,” he promised. She blushed at making her eagerness so apparent and cast her eyes down again. He lifted her chin with a finger.

  “Is my bath waiting us?” he questioned softly. She glanced up, startled, and met his eyes. Color flooded her cheeks again at the look there and she nodded.

  “Everything is ready, my lord. You need only bring yourself.”

  “Very soon, little dove,” he vowed in a deep rumble. “Let me deal with a few matters first and then I shall come to you.”

  Those few matters took longer than she would have liked but less time than she expected. She changed into a silk robe from her own country and wrapped a silk obi around her waist, as was appropriate for a kimono. He loved seeing her with only a single layer of silk covering her skin.

  Finally, she heard his booted feet and spurs on the stairs to her solar, the glorious sunny room that his mother had given them. She shrugged at hearing him talk to his squire. Much as she wanted him alone, she knew that she wasn’t strong enough to disarm him herself.

  She bowed a greeting and offered him a goblet of his favorite spiced wine. He sipped it while the young man worked silently to remove his armor. Beth waited and helped as she could, her eyes hungry for every glimpse of him. He never spoke of his injuries and she scanned the padded undergarments for any hints of damage. But everything was at it should be.

  Beth took a deep whiff of his scent from the padded vest: leather and horse and the sharp tang of the oil used to keep his armor moving freely. It was so intensely masculine that it sent a bolt of lust through her body. She fought for breath and caught the smell of his sweat, underlaid by a hint of his musk. Fresh musk, as if his body stirred now in anticipation.

  She glanced over to his lap and saw his wool breeches tented by his cock’s pressure. He cleared his throat in a harsh rasp and her eyes flew to his face. She blushed again at the naked hunger there but didn’t look away.

  “Thank you, lad. Get yourself gone; it’ll be tomorrow before I have need of you again,” he barked, his eyes never leaving hers. Her eyelids half-veiled her expression at the reminder of their audience and she waited until the door closed behind his squire. She rather thought the young man would be quickly seeking a maid to ease his lust, judging by the evidence in those breeches.

  Sean stood up and unlaced his breeches. She sighed at finally seeing the beloved cock again, rising in red-hot splendor against his beautiful body. Her hand itched to touch it but could not, without his permission. He pushed the breeches off and dropped them casually on the floor before walking over to the tub. He settled into it with barely a ripple, until the water rose past his waist, and sipped his wine again. Rose petals circled and then lapped softly against him.

  Beth allowed no hint of her disappointment to show. It was not for her to choose the time or place when they would couple again. She envied the innocent petals for touching him.

  She quietly tidied up the solar, placing his clothes where the maids would find them. She stole glances at him from under her eyelashes and trembled when she saw one big, scarred hand idly circling a nipple. He knew her fondness for the taste of him there, how much she loved the strong muscles of his chest leading to those little nubs, how much she adored urging them into jewels that echoed the strength of his great cock rearing up below. She whimpered, the merest hint of sound, when his fingers plucked and then released. Her body quivered like a tightly-drawn bowstring, above the wetness between her legs.

  “What is your name, little dove?”

  “My lord?” She spun around to face him, bewildered at the question. Was this the start of a new game? “It is Elizabeth, as you honored me by remembering the blessed saint. Or Beth sometimes, as it suits you.”

  “No, little dove. What is the one that you carried first? The name they gave you in that far off country where you were born.”

  “Keiko, my lord.” She slid her hands into her sleeves and gave him a deep bow. It evoked the customs of that distant land, with its snow-covered volcanoes standing fast against the raging ocean.

  “Keiko,” he drawled, pronouncing it correctly. He had learned how to say it years ago, in the Holy Land where he captured her from those he called Infidels. Her eyes closed at the sound of the harsh voice lingering over her name.

  “Keiko,” he said again, his voice deepening. “Did they teach you to remain so far from your master?”

  “Of course not, my lord!” She came to his side quickly, hunger lancing her veins like wildfire.

  “You still keep yourself at a distance, Keiko,” Sean drawled, hot blue eyes measuring every one of the few inches between them before sweeping over her body. Answering heat crowded her body and her nipples lifted in salute to him. She hesitated, looking at the hot water surrounding him.

  A big arm caught her and swept her over into the tub. She squeaked and caught his shoulders for balance. Then he slowly allowed her body to slide down over his, his knees coming up to support them both. Her silk robe floated up around them in the water. Her hands fluttered against him, uncertain whether to hold onto him or deal with the robe.

  He laughed and her eyes flew to him. Then she giggled, a silvery sound like the sunbeams dancing overhead. He hugged her close and they laughed together.

  “It is good to be home with my Keiko,” he told her, his fingers stroking her high cheekbones. Her eyes slanted shut, almost purring at the caress. Surely he wouldn’t deny himself much longer.

  “Do you have skin to pleasure me, underneath the cloth, Keiko?” She giggled again at the question. Enough water had entered the silk that it was nearly transparent everywhere on her body.

  “I believe so, my lord. Should we look to see?”

  “Indeed, little dove.”

  Her fingers fumbled a bit but she managed to remove the obi and toss it onto the bench nearby. She’d carefully placed the bench there earlier, just in case her knight wanted to play in his bath. Not everything recovered gracefully from a soaking.

  Her kimono still clung to her chest and she paused for a moment, enjoying the flush of arousal on his cheeks. Then she slowly slid one panel aside, baring a single breast.

  Sean growled and pulled her close, his head diving down to seize her. She groaned at
the heat of his mouth and her head fell back helplessly. He suckled her strongly and she arched against the intense pleasure, gasping and sobbing at the echoing tremors in her womb. His hand skillfully played her other breast and she twisted on his lap, frantic for completion.

  “Sean, please! Oh master, I beg of you, finish me! Please, please…”

  His free hand swept down her back and over her ass where it nestled against his hip. Beth rubbed against it eagerly, willing him to finally give her his cock. She could feel it like an iron bar direct from the furnace, cradled between her buttocks.

  “Please fuck me,” she groaned and lifted her hips to try to capture him. He gave her his hand instead, tracing her folds like a map he wished to learn. She wiggled against him, her fingers diggings into his shoulder. He took one breast into his hot wet mouth, sucking her deep as if to take her entire body into him. Her hips tensed again and again, thrusting against his all too skillful fingers.

  “Please,” she groaned in Japanese, “please…”

  His eyes blazed in triumph at the heathen words, using the language that she had avoided since she became a Christian. He rubbed her clit roughly in the stroke she loved and she fell into orgasm.

  While she was still spasming, he lifted her half-out of the water and brought her down onto his cock. She cried out in surprise and satisfaction at the fullness she finally felt deep within. Another orgasm claimed her, while his cock sank into her like a hot knife into butter.

  He lifted her and dropped her again, using his arms’ great strength to pound himself into her. She gasped and sobbed, as her orgasm’s pulses refused to fade and instead built stronger into her spine. She couldn’t breathe when he circled his hips a little, just enough to send tremors through another portion of her channel. Water splashed in every direction and rose petals clung to skin well above the tub’s walls.

  He grunted, the sound barely recognizable as words. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

  She tightened her muscles around him, desperate to claim everything possible from his impending climax. He swelled further inside her and pulsed, then went over the edge, howling like a lion as his body poured everything it could into her.

  She shrieked again as his hot flood propelled her into a final climax, this one thundering through her body in rhythm with his cock’s ecstatic throb.

  Beth collapsed against him, her lungs heaving as she struggled for breath. At least she’d had the wit to place towels where they could catch the worst of the tub’s overflow.

  She’d tell him about the coming child later, when she could think more clearly.

  Beth laid down the pen carefully, savoring the last ripples of orgasm that floated through her body. She’d definitely have to wash up before dressing for dinner.

  She also needed to erase the last sentence. She had never shared that fantasy with a man and a casual affaire was no place to start.

  Beth was calmer when she saw her room again late that night. The banquet had gone more smoothly than she’d expected, given that most of the real negotiations occurred then, under cover of fine wine and seemingly idle questions. She’d had to concentrate fiercely, an effort that left her both drained and exhilarated. They really were on track, an astonishing feat considering the number of major banks represented and the amount of money to be repaid.

  She blinked at the flashing red light; it was too late for a call from the East Coast. Properly requested, the phone yielded a message from her brother Jason.

  “Beth? Jason here. Hey, Dad gets home from Japan on Monday morning. The whole family’s meeting him and Mom at the airport. Since you’re out here on the Left Coast anyway, care to join us? Call me back when you get in, no matter when. Hugs.”

  Jason’s message was entirely too casual. The hair prickled on the nape of Beth’s neck. What did he really want?

  A family gathering? She hadn’t been home to Berkeley since last Christmas. Then all the grandchildren’s antics had shielded her from too much conversation with anyone. Her parents hadn’t pressed. Of course, Father had never needed to coax Beth to talk to him. And Mother? Well, Mother always had so much to say that she rarely waited for Beth to speak.

  Beth stirred, driven to honesty with herself. She was the youngest of four children and her three brothers had a different relationship with their mother. They spoke fiercely together, never hesitating to argue with each other.

  She was quieter, preferring to think and act rather than cast a cloud of words over a topic. She and her Father had always understood each other, with only a few words exchanged. But Mother and her brothers needed to blather a great deal.

  While Beth could talk easily to Jason, closest to her in age, and relax with the other two boys, she had removed herself gradually from her mother’s orbit, allowing her to be the sole center of attention. In kindergarten, they had gossiped together, at least as much as a mother and daughter could. The level of communication had faded to a warm courtesy by the time Beth graduated from Harvard.

  Last Christmas, Beth’s ears had still cringed at any reminder of her mother and grandmother’s argument in Tokyo. Any sound of her mother’s brisk voice, honed to a commanding bark by years as an obstetrical surgeon, had sent Beth flashing back to that dreadful day. Instinctively, Beth had retreated into her shell and shut the recurring pain out by not talking to her mother unless absolutely necessary.

  Of course, everyone else had probably noticed that the relationship was even worse than before. So Jason’s message must mean that he wanted to patch things up, a typically clumsy attempt at subtlety.

  Need stirred in her, to be part of a family again, no matter how imperfect. Sudden death had claimed Dennis and too many others. She needed to be part of a circle again, safe and protected by past memories and future hopes.

  Jason was her favorite brother. His new wife was carrying their first child, due to be born after New Year’s. It would be good to see Father again, hopefully as friends. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to spend a little time around Mother.

  She picked up the phone and dialed Jason’s number from memory. She had already been given a week’s leave to take after the conference. She could spend as much as she chose in Berkeley.

  Wednesday’s sessions were rougher than Tuesday. Beth used an unscheduled break to send her fantasies and checklist to Sean. A quick phone call sent her doctor’s note to Sean. The best news was a message that her friend Jennifer had checked into one of the upstairs suites.

  Beth brightened and called immediately. Five minutes later, the two women were hugging and laughing. They looked almost like sisters: the same height, the same black hair, the same slanted brown eyes in an oval face. But Jenn came from a mixture of Vietnamese and African-American, rather than Beth’s combination of Japanese and Scottish.

  Finally, Jenn stepped back.

  “Come on now, turn around and let me see you. Gotta make sure that none of your measurements have changed since we last met.”

  Beth obediently stepped away and poised, pivoting a quarter turn every time Jenn flapped her hand.

  “Girlfriend, I swear that you just keep looking better and better. You’re going to put all us old married women to shame. You been working out more?”

  “Same old, same old as I did at Harvard. You remember,” Beth shrugged. Jenn raised a skeptical eyebrow and went to the bar.

  “Okay, I’m teaching yoga twice a week now. I still volunteer Saturdays at the hospice, giving massages. No big deal.”

  “And I’ll bet you’re still working out with weights, just to maintain your back for the next time you set a whip dancing.” Jenn fixed a stern stare on Beth, who shrugged.

  “So what if I do? It’s good for my health too.”

  “Yeah right! And there’s the daily yoga practice, and the three times a week swimming, and the hiking,” Jenn snorted, handing Beth a glass of iced tea. “Relax. It’s my own herbal tea, brewed just for you.”

  “Thanks.” Beth sniffed appreciatively and then drank, letting the g
olden liquid flow down her throat. “How’s Jarred and the boys?”

  “How much time we got?”

  “Two hours before the really big dinner.”

  “So we’ve got two hours to talk, while you look over what I’ve found.”

  “I’ll need to dress for that dinner,” Beth pointed out.

  “Got that covered.”

  Beth raised an eyebrow.

  “Beth, you told me that there’s a man in your life that you wanted to look good for.”

  Beth choked on her tea. “That’s not what I said!”

  “Near enough as makes no difference,” Jenn corrected her sternly. “What does he look like?”

  Beth opened her mouth and closed it again. They’d been best friends since their first day at Harvard School of Business. If Jenn had reached that conclusion…

  Beth took another swallow of tea. Still, the affaire was Sean was only for a week, making it excellent practice for a different relationship. Hopefully something permanent, back in Washington. But she could talk to Jenn about that later. Jenn knew everyone and loved playing matchmaker.

  “Good girl,” Jenn approved. “Now, tell me about this stud.”

  Beth frowned at Jenn but complied. Once Jenn had made up her mind, you might as well try to topple the Sphinx.

  “Remember the British TV show you liked, the one about Spain during Napoleon’s time? And the British officer who’d been a sergeant?”

  “In that tight green uniform? Beth, that boy was fine!” Jenn whistled appreciatively. “Are you telling me you’ve found yourself a hot one like that?”

  “Oh yes,” Beth nodded, taking a deep draft of tea and trying to avoid saying more.

  “Well, if you think a few nights with a man like that is going to be enough, you’ve got more willpower than I do!” Jenn laughed, then sobered when Beth said nothing further.

  “Beth honey, just let me pass on some advice my grandmother gave me. There are just not that many good men out there. If you find a good one, then you’d better snatch him up quick before someone else does.”

  “He’s interesting, Jenn, not perfect.”