Goodnight

---

Upstairs, Rebecca was winding down for bed.

She was still pleasantly tired from the yoga, muscles she hadn't known she possessed making themselves known as she crossed the bedroom.

And there was something else.

Rebecca tried not to think about that.

She had felt strangely warm between her legs ever since the final pose. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly. If anything, the sensation was rather pleasant--an unfamiliar sensitivity that became more noticeable whenever the fabric of her shorts shifted against her.

She knew precisely when it had started.

James's hand slipping too low.

Two of his fingers pressing against her vagina through the thin material.

It had been an accident. She knew that. James hadn't even seemed to notice, which ought to have made the whole thing easier to dismiss.

Except her body had noticed.

Even now there was a faint dampness between her legs that Rebecca was doing her very best not to investigate. She could have gone into the bathroom and checked, she supposed, but the very idea made her cheeks warm.

Checked for what?

She was tired. She had exercised more in one evening than she had in years. She was probably simply overheated.

Rebecca accepted this explanation with considerably more determination than conviction.

She had just begun thinking longingly about climbing beneath the covers when she noticed something pink lying against the duvet.

Another card.

“Oh, what now?”

The front bore the same little heart motif she'd begun to recognize. Rebecca opened it and read.

To Mrs. Ashford,

I hope you've enjoyed your first evening in your new home. You really do look like you're settling in well.

Are you ready for your first challenge?

Every day, you must kiss James twice.

One to say good morning.
One to be nice.

Love,
Mike
p.s., don't forget to say goodnight tonight, before you turn out the light

Rebecca blinked.

She read it again.

Two kisses.

That was ridiculous.

Yoga was one thing. Yoga was exercise. Even the rather embarrassing positions had ultimately been perfectly innocent, and James had behaved professionally throughout.

Kissing him was different.

“Oh, for goodness' sake.”

A kiss goodnight.

She and Richard hardly even did that anymore. A peck when one of them was leaving the house, perhaps, or something automatic at the end of an evening. But walking up to another man specifically to kiss him goodnight felt absurdly intimate.

Then again, it was a challenge.

That was the point, wasn't it? Doing harmless things that made her uncomfortable.

Rebecca remained beside the bed for another few seconds, card held against her chest, before drawing a breath and opening the bedroom door.

The hallway outside was quiet.

She stepped into it and listened.

“James?”

Nothing.

Rebecca ventured another few steps, suddenly hoping he had already gone to bed.

“James?”

A pause.

Then, louder:

“James, are you still up?”

The guest-bedroom door opened, and James stepped into the hallway, a curious look on his face.

“Everything okay?”

She waved the card in his general direction. “No. I have another challenge to do.”

Leaning on the wall, he offered her a searching look.

“Not more yoga, is it?”

She shook her head. “I'm supposed to kiss you again. Every day.”

He pretended to be shocked, standing up straight. Arms folded defensively over his chest.

“Right, I see... does that mean you have to kiss me twice now?”

She looked down at the card in her hand again, a frown on her lips. She hadn't thought of that. It did say that the first kiss was a morning one, but it also said twice explicitly.

“I don't know.” She was still frowning. “I think Mike was worried more about making a stupid rhyme than actually writing a good challenge.”

James laughed and shook his head.

“Alright, well. Two kisses wouldn't hurt, right? We don't want you accidentally failing, do we?”

She considered that for a moment.

Was two kisses worse than one?

She had already kissed him quite thoroughly before, and this time at least she could decide exactly how the kisses went.

“Two should be fine, I suppose.”

His hand between your legs.

Her eyes widened at the involuntary thought, and she quickly glanced away from him.

"Becky." He stepped toward her, body towering over her. "Don't be shy. You're a good kisser."

She let out a short laugh, but the compliment made her tummy flip.

“I'm sure you're exaggerating.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Rebecca gave him a look.

Then she stepped forward.

It was easier if she didn't think about it. She rose onto her toes, tilted her face towards his and pressed her lips briefly to his.

A peck.

Nothing more.

Rebecca immediately stepped back.

“There.”

James smiled. “One.”

For some reason, Rebecca was slightly breathless.

Which was ridiculous. The kiss had lasted perhaps a second. She'd barely felt his lips before it was over.

Still, her heart was beating faster.

Rebecca's gaze dropped, annoyed with herself.

“And the second?” James asked.

“I suppose we may as well.”

This time James stepped closer.

Rebecca tipped her face upwards, expecting another quick peck.

His lips met hers.

She kissed him back.

A second passed.

Then another.

Rebecca had just begun wondering whether that was sufficient when James's fingers touched beneath her chin.

Her stomach tied itself into a knot.

His touch was gentle, only two fingers beneath her chin, tipping her face slightly higher as the kiss continued. But suddenly Rebecca was acutely conscious of everything: how much taller he was, how close his body stood to hers, the warmth of his mouth, the faint roughness of his face against her skin.

And, without permission, the thought returned.

His hand between my legs.

Warmth bloomed low in her stomach.

Rebecca's breath caught against his lips. The strange sensation from upstairs returned between her thighs, only hotter now. The lingering sensitivity she'd blamed on exercise sharpened beneath the thin fabric of her shorts, and Rebecca had the bewildering impression that her body remembered those two misplaced fingers considerably better than she wanted it to.

James's thumb shifted lightly along her chin.

Her stomach tightened again.

Rebecca didn't understand why such a small touch could make her feel like this. Richard had kissed her thousands of times. She knew what kissing felt like.

Didn't she?

James finally drew back.

His fingers left her chin.

Rebecca remained where she was for half a second too long, lips still slightly parted.

“Two,” he said quietly.

Rebecca blinked.

“Yes.”

The challenge was finished. That ought to have been the end of it.

“Night,” she said quickly.

She darted inside and shut the door rather more firmly than she'd intended.

Then she stood with her back against it, staring into the bedroom. Her heart was still racing.

Two perfectly harmless kisses.

Bedtime.

---

The bed was comfortable, and Rebecca had no worries. She didn't need to wake up early and make breakfast, or make sure Richard's clothes were ironed.

But sleep did not come.

Her body was exhausted. Her mind, apparently, had other plans.

Every time she closed her eyes, some little piece of the evening returned to her. James laughing at her during yoga. His hand on her bottom as he'd corrected the pose. His fingers beneath her chin in the hallway.

His mouth against hers.

And then, inevitably--

His hand between my legs.

Rebecca shifted beneath the covers.

The warmth was still there.

Worse, if anything.

She rolled onto her other side and squeezed her eyes shut.

It was only because she was thinking about it.

So she would stop thinking about it.

Simple.

Rebecca spent the next several minutes thinking very determinedly about not thinking about it.

Eventually, exhaustion won.

---

She woke to someone standing beside the bed.

Rebecca blinked sleepily into the darkness.

“James?”

He was looking down at her.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You forgot something.”

“I did?”

He leaned closer.

“I came to give you a real goodnight kiss.”

Before Rebecca could remind him that they'd already done the challenge, his mouth was on hers.

This wasn't like either kiss in the hallway.

James kissed her deeply, insistently, and Rebecca's startled little sound disappeared against his mouth. His fingers curled beneath her chin again, holding her face towards his.

Her stomach flipped.

His hand between my legs.

The thought arrived immediately this time. Rebecca kissed him harder.

She wasn't entirely certain why.

James climbed beneath the covers. His body pressed against hers, and she cuddled into him, finding the closeness completely natural.

Exciting, even.

He settled behind her, his body warm along the length of hers, one arm resting around her waist.

Rebecca closed her eyes.

This was wrong.

Obviously.

James wasn't supposed to be in her bed.

She could feel his breath against her hair.

And still she couldn't stop thinking about yoga.

Rebecca opened her eyes.

“James?”

“Hmm?”

“That thing you did earlier.”

“What thing?”

Rebecca hesitated.

“With your hand. During yoga.”

“Oh.”

His voice sounded amused.

Rebecca turned over beneath the covers to face him.

“You touched me.”

“Here?”

His hand moved down. His fingers slipped between her thighs.

“Oh, this?”

Rebecca nodded.

It was the same place.

Except this time there was no yoga pose to correct, no muscle for him to show her, and no possibility of pretending his hand had simply gone somewhere it wasn't supposed to.

His fingers moved gently through the thin fabric.

Rebecca's eyes widened.

There. That feeling.

Only much stronger.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you.”

“Showing me what?”

James moved his fingers again.

Rebecca's toes curled beneath the covers.

She didn't know what he was doing. Not really. His hand seemed to press and rub in some particular place that made warmth rush through her stomach and collect between her legs, and every time she thought she'd understood the sensation, he did something slightly different and made it worse.

Or better. Rebecca wasn't certain which word applied.

“Oh.”

James smiled.

“Feel good?”

Rebecca's face burned.

She couldn't possibly answer that.

His fingers moved again.

“Oh, goodness--”

---

Rebecca woke with a gasp.

The bedroom was empty. No James.

She stared at the ceiling, breathing hard, her face burning.

“Oh my God.”

She covered her face with both hands.

She had dreamed about James.

Not simply dreamed about him.

She had dreamed about him getting into her bed and—

Rebecca stopped that thought before it could finish.

It wasn't real. None of it had happened.

The kiss hadn't happened. His body hadn't been beside hers.

His hand wasn't between her legs.

Rebecca swallowed.

That last part did very little to calm her.

Because the sensation was still there.

Stronger than before.

Her thighs felt warm beneath the covers, and there was an unmistakable dampness against her shorts now.

Rebecca lay perfectly still.

For the first time that evening, curiosity defeated embarrassment.

Slowly, she lifted the covers.

Rebecca looked down.

Then hesitantly touched herself through the fabric.

Her breath caught.

The shorts were damp.

Not from being overheated. Not from yoga.

Rebecca pushed her shorts down with one hand, cheeks burning despite being completely alone.

For the first time, she actually looked. Her vulva was visibly wet, the lips glistening faintly in the dim light and already slightly parted. Seeing herself like that somehow felt even more embarrassing than the dampness had.

She touched herself cautiously, almost clinically at first, exploring the unfamiliar slickness and sensitivity between her legs. Then, gathering her courage, she parted the lips gently with two fingers and looked more closely.

She was soaked.

Rebecca froze.

There was nothing frightening about it. Nothing hurt. Her body simply felt extraordinarily sensitive, warm and wet in a way she didn't recognize.

And touching herself made that warmth sharpen.

Rebecca immediately pulled her hand away and stared at her fingers. Then beneath the covers. Then at her fingers again.

“Oh.”

Her face became even hotter.

For several seconds she simply lay there, trying to reconcile this discovery with everything she thought she understood about herself.

Then one thought surfaced above all the others.

Not the dream.

Not the kisses.

Not even James lying beside her.

His hand between my legs.

Rebecca dropped the covers over herself.

“Oh, for goodness' sake.”

And then she remembered the cameras.