naturally red and moist, her skin was smooth and barely lined - and still tanned from a long, hot summer in France. She recalled how she and Josh had strolled through the surf, arms around each other, her wearing nothing but a brief bikini bottom, because he loved other men to see her breasts while knowing they were exclusively his to touch. Usually it turned her on to exhibit herself like that, and to know what it was doing to him, but this year it hadn't worked at all. In the end, angry and frustrated, Josh had almost seemed to welcome a crisis call from an author in Scotland, for it had allowed him to fly off for a few days, leaving her with the children, and the horrible suspicions of why he'd really gone.
Now, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was aware of the rise and fall of her breasts, and the way her heart was thudding beneath them as it filled with unease over what was to come. But she had to try, even though she already knew she couldn't do it.
Relinquishing her gaze she put her toothbrush back in the cabinet and closed the mirrored door,
wishing she could shut away her dread so easily. She'd already let him know that she wouldn't push him away tonight, and had even allowed him to kiss her deeply before she'd come into the bathroom, but then kissing never had been a problem. They still kissed often and lovingly, even through these difficult times. It was only when it seemed likely to lead on to other things that the trouble began.
Not tonight though, she told herself firmly. Somehow she'd wrest back control of her body and let him do with it as he would, the way she always had. She thought of his hands moving over her, his mouth on hers, and the sounds he made as he loved her. She reminded herself of the heights he could transport her to - it was nothing for him to take her to three, four or five orgasms in quick succession. Now she was profoundly terrified of even going close to one. It made no sense and she knew it, for she'd always felt so safe in his arms, willing to let go and give herself completely - and there was no reason for her not to now, so somehow she must make herself do it.
Wishing there was a magical way to drop the extra weight she'd gained around her middle, while knowing it would make little difference to him just as long as they could go back to the way they were, she took one last look at herself in the mirror before turning out the light and going into the bedroom.
Only the lamps were on, casting a warm, mellow glow over the bed which was covered in crisp white linens and draped with copious folds of voile. The rest of the large room, with its plush
oriental carpets and chic Italian furniture, was cast in shadow, and both sash windows were masked by raw silk blinds, josh was standing in front of one of them, laying his watch on the surface of a black laminated chest, and as he heard her come in, he turned to look at her.
She looked back and attempted to smile. He was so tall and dark, seeming so powerfully male and confident, but even so, she could tell he was nervous. She guessed he was naked beneath his robe, possibly already semi-aroused. That he could still want her after all she'd put him through made her detest herself completely and love him even more.
His eyes were sweeping the near-transparency of her nightie, pausing at the hard swell of her nipples. Then he came towards her, and stood looking into her eyes, and as he lowered her straps to let the nightie slip to the floor, she struggled with the urge to cover her nudity and push him away She wanted him, she reminded herself, she loved him, and as he took her in his arms, she lifted her mouth to his. His hands moved gently over her back and buttocks. He didn't pull her closer, but she could already feel his erection, and as she forced herself to press against him she heard him groan with desire.
'Are you OK?' he murmured, cupping her face in one hand.
She nodded and made herself untie his robe.
Feeling him