Twice to be sure

---

Lunch was awkward.

At least, Rebecca thought it was awkward.

James seemed perfectly capable of eating a sandwich as though he hadn't had his face buried beneath her dress half an hour earlier, which reaffirmed that he had no idea what it had been.

That just made Rebecca feel worse.

Was she as bad as James for not mentioning it? They had both promised to be honest just the night before...

“Becky,” James said.

She looked up. “Hm?”

“Are you okay? You seem tense.”

“Just.” She paused. “Thinking about how I'm supposed to make you hard later.”

James laughed. “Well, don't overthink it. You're concentrating so hard you look like you might hurt yourself.”

She should have told him.

She should tell him.

Rebecca glanced at James, then quickly back to her food.

She would tell him later. In the bedroom, where the cameras couldn't see them.

---

Unfortunately, not overthinking it turned out to be considerably easier said than done.

Every time she looked at James, thoughts of that morning flooded back.

It wasn't just the guilt of not telling him that kept occupying her thoughts. It was how good it had felt.

And God had it felt good.

Like scratching an itch she hadn't even known was there.

Except now she knew.

There hadn't been another envelope that day, which meant she only had one more challenge as far as she was aware.

Make James Hard.

By mid-afternoon, she and James were sitting on the sofa chatting when Rebecca finally decided to get it over with.

“Do you think you're ready to get hard yet?” she asked.

He laughed.

Eyes on her.

“You sound confident, Becky.”

“Says the guy who can't pass a simple taste test.” She stuck her tongue out.

“I'm ready whenever you are, pumpkin.”

She frowned at him.

Rebecca.

My dad calls me pumpkin.

He knew perfectly well she hated that.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes.

Fine.

If he wanted to push his luck...

“Well. You better be ready, mister.”

James looked at his watch.

“Should we start the countdown now?”

“No. Wait.”

Rebecca shifted on the sofa, crossing her legs, then casually uncrossing them again.

James's eyes dipped toward her thighs.

She smirked.

Pavlov's dog.

It felt like cheating, but she needed all the help she could get.

What Rebecca had forgotten was that James wasn't the only one watching.

For several seconds she sat comfortably with her knees apart, entirely oblivious to the cameras -- and to the fact that production hadn't given her anything to wear beneath the dress that morning.

Then she crossed her legs again.

“Okay. Start the timer.”

Beep.

“Okay pumpkin, you have the floor.”

“Does it make you feel in charge when you call me pumpkin?”

James raised an eyebrow at her, his smile dropped.

“No, I just like to...”

“Like to what? Patronize me?”

She shuffled closer to him on the sofa.

“I have a son, James. I know when a boy is pushing his luck.”

A boy. He swallowed.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “Is that right, Becky?”

“Becky. Like calling me that makes any difference.”

He didn't say anything now. Just stared back into her eyes.

“You know my name.”

“Rebecca.”

“Good.”

James released a breath.

Interesting.

Rebecca filed that away.

“Now... you've been really bad since I came into this house.”

“I have?”

She nodded. “Very, very bad.”

It was what women did in sitcoms. They put on something tight, lowered their voices and told men they'd been very bad.

But what came after that?

Rebecca had no idea.

Still, she could work with this.

Slowly, Rebecca shifted closer until her arm rested along the sofa behind his shoulders. She leaned towards him, her knees brushing his thigh.

“Does that mean I'm going to get punished?”

She pursed her lips. “Yes?”

He laughed.

She was losing him.

“You were bad yesterday, putting your thing in my mouth.”

The smile wiped from his lips.

“I bet you wish you could do that again. Don't you?”

“What?”

“You wish you could put your thing in my mouth.” She smiled, more seductively than she knew. “Do a blowjob on me.”

Whatever expression had been on James's face disappeared.

“Fucking hell, Becky.”

“What!?” She couldn't hide the offense in her voice. “What did I do wrong? I thought that was good.”

“Do a blowjob on me. Come on. You've got to know that was terrible. It's not even proper English.”

She furrowed her brows. “Alright, what would you have said.”

He turned on her. “If I was you?”

She nodded.

He cleared his throat. “You wish you could put your thing in my mouth.” His voice high-pitched, mimicking hers. “Make me suck your cock again. Like a good girl.”

Rebecca stared at him, her face going hot.

“I would never say that.”

James's eyebrow lifted. “You just spent thirty seconds telling me you wanted my penis in your mouth.”

“No. I said you wanted your penis in my mouth,” she corrected.

James stared at her for a second.

“Right. Sorry. Completely different.”

“It is.”

“So you don't want to suck my cock again?”

Rebecca's mouth opened. That wasn't what she'd said either.

“We're talking about what you want.”

“Are we?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He settled back against the sofa. “Then you're right.”

Rebecca waited. “About what?”

“I want to put it in your mouth again.”

Rebecca's cheeks flushed, and her throat tightened.

“Well that's not happening.”

“It's not? Guess there's no reason for me to get hard, then.”

She glanced down at his crotch. His unmistakable bulge was there, but it definitely wasn't hard.

Could she do this?

“I'll suck your cock,” she said.

Her voice came out hoarse, but it still brought that look back to James's face.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah. I'll suck your cock, James.”

He reached for his belt, but she grabbed his hand.

Not now.

“I'll suck your cock. It'll get really, really hard. Right there in my mouth.”

“Will it?”

She nodded. “Really hard. So hard you'll have to...”

Have sex with my mouth. That's what the words were in her head. But that wasn't the word James would use. She knew that.

Have sex with was almost scientific.

He would use the F bomb.

“I'll have to what, Becky?”

“I'll suck your cock so well that you'll have to fuck my mouth.”

Rebecca's stomach flipped.

She'd actually said it. Out loud.

James wasn't laughing anymore. The words came spilling out before she could lose her nerve, and once she'd started, James did nothing to stop her.

“You'll fuck it like you did yesterday.”

Then she saw it. His bulge shifted.

“And when you finish you won't call me Becky, will you?”

He shook his head.

“What will you call me?”

“Rebecca.”

“You'll say, wow Rebecca, I loved fucking your mouth. You sucked my cock really well.”

Rebecca pursed her lips. “You're not very good at fucking mouths, though.”

James's eyebrows rose. “How would you know?”

“Because--”

Rebecca faltered.

“See, that's what I think, Becky. You're out of your depth.”

She couldn't reply.

“You wouldn't know how to suck a cock. Would you? In fact, I'm willing to bet mine was the first you sucked.”

“Yeah, well. Guess what? You licked my vagina.”

A smug look found her face. “Not feeling so clever now. Are you?”

James didn't answer.

The smugness lasted another second. “What?”

“You really think I didn't know, Becky?”

Rebecca's smile disappeared. “Know what?”

James looked straight at her.

“I could feel your thighs around my head. I could smell your cunt.”

Rebecca froze.

That word again.

“You sat on my face,” he continued. “And I made you cum.”

Her stomach dropped.

He made her cum.

That was a word.

“Didn't I?”

She couldn't answer.

“I heard it in your voice. Felt you shaking.” His eyes stayed on hers. “You loved it.”

Rebecca stared at him.

“You knew?”

James said nothing.

“James.”

“Yeah.”

“The whole time?”

Another pause.

“Pretty much.”

The challenge vanished from Rebecca's thoughts.

Tears stung her eyes.

“You promised me.”

James's expression changed.

“Rebecca--”

“So much for honesty.”

She stood and walked out.

---

By bedtime, Rebecca was still mad.

She'd eaten dinner. She'd showered. She'd brushed her teeth.

Production had left another nightgown waiting for her.

Of course they had.

Rebecca pulled the stupid thing on and looked at herself in the mirror.

BREAKING MRS. ASHFORD, it said across her breast.

She rolled her eyes. Cute.

Apparently she couldn't even go to bed without advertising the stupid show.

Now she lay on her side beneath the covers, facing away from James's empty half of the bed.

Don't go to bed mad.

Her mother had always said that.

Rebecca had always thought it was good advice.

Don't go to bed mad.

Too late.

When James entered the room she was fully committed to pretending to be asleep. Through cracks in her eyes she watched him enter the walk-in wardrobe, then leave in just a pair of boxers.

Production must not be providing him pajamas tonight.

Great.

The mattress shifted as he climbed into bed.

Rebecca felt his eyes on the back of her head.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I broke our promise, but I hope you'll let me explain.”

She didn't reply.

She was asleep.

“I wanted you to win the money, Rebecca. $10,000 is a lot of money.”

Her eyes opened.

“And I wanted to make you feel good. Okay? Every time anything sexual happens, you act like you're doing something wrong. Even when you're enjoying yourself. It's like...”

He trailed off, then said nothing.

She turned to face him.

“Like what?”

“Like sitting in a fancy restaurant with a friend who always orders the bread and butter.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You have a nice life, I'm sure, but you're missing out. Becky. Don't you see that?”

“Rebecca.”

“Rebecca,” he corrected. “But that's what I mean. Why does it matter so much?”

“Because it's my name.”

“I know. I just mean...” He sighed. “Sometimes it feels like you're trying so hard to hold onto this idea of who Rebecca Ashford is that you won't let yourself find out if there's anything else.”

“I'm not trying to hold on to anything!” Was she? “I'm just me.”

“You're great, don't get me wrong. I don't want to change you.”

“Isn't that what this is? Breaking Mrs. Ashford, aren't you here to change me?”

“I didn't choose the stupid show name, I didn't choose the show.”

“No, they chose you. Why? Because you're handsome?”

“Because I'm a fucking porn star.”

Rebecca closed her eyes.

That made sense. Didn't it?

This was porn. She was making porn.

Stop being so stuck-up, Becky. We're trying to make porn here. Stop pretending you're still that person. Sit on my face. Put my penis in your mouth. This is porn, after all.

“Rebecca.”

“It's Becky, isn't it?” she said. “I'm supposed to be some ditzy idiot, aren't I? Let you manipulate me and call me Becky until I start giggling and acting like a whore.”

“No Becky. That's not it at all. Maybe that's what they want, but--”

“Why don't you just fuck me, James? That's why you're here, isn't it? Big porn star with his big penis here to fuck the housewife until she breaks. That's the premise of the show, isn't it? That's why I'm here.”

He didn't say anything.

“No, I'm serious. James. Call me Becky. Fuck me.”

“Rebecca. You're not being fair.”

“Oh, I'm not being fair, am I not? Sorry. I'm supposed to be giving you a blowjob. Aren't I? Is that proper English now?”

James shook his head and once again said nothing.

There was nothing he could say.

“So why don't you just drop the act. If you're supposed to have sex with me, then just do it. Okay? Stop blindfolding me and just fuck me.”

“I can't tell if you're serious right now, Rebecca. Maybe I should sleep in the other room.”

Her hand reached for his under the covers.

“Just do it, James.”

“No.”

Her fingers loosened around his. “What?”

“No.”

“Why not? Isn't that what you want?”

“Yeah.”

That stopped her.

James looked at her. “Of course I want to fuck you, Rebecca.”

Her face burned.

“But not like this.”

He was halfway out of the bed.

What was she doing?

She was angry.

But underneath it was the other thing. The thing she'd been trying not to think about all day.

“James,” she whispered.

“Yes, Rebecca?”

“Can't you just... do what you did this morning?”

He was looking away from her, into a shadowed corner of the room.

Then, he turned to face her in the dark. His face was more serious than she had seen it before.

“If you want me to.”

She nodded. “I do.”

James shuffled towards her across the bed.

Rebecca's stomach tightened.

I'm going to feel it again.

Oh my God.


James moved closer, and Rebecca suddenly became acutely aware that asking him had been the easy part.

Now she actually had to let him do it.

Rebecca rolled onto her back, staring determinedly at the ceiling as James disappeared beneath the covers.

Beneath the covers, she felt James's hand find the hem of her nightgown.

Then Rebecca realized something.

He was going to see her.

This morning she'd thought about how few people had ever seen her there. Richard. Doctors. Herself.

James hadn't.

He'd been blindfolded.

Rebecca's stomach tightened.

This time there was nothing covering his eyes.

He was going to be down there, looking directly at a part of her that she'd spent her entire adult life keeping private.

And closer than anyone had ever looked before.

Oh my God.

For the first time since she'd arrived at the house, Rebecca found herself almost grateful production hadn't given her any underwear.

Almost.

At least she didn't have to deliberately take anything off for him.

What was happening to her?

James didn't tease her about it. He didn't make some filthy joke or tell her to relax. He simply gave her time, moving slowly enough that she could have stopped him at any point.

That somehow made everything worse.

Or better.

Rebecca wasn't sure anymore.

Then James touched her.

Her breath caught.

Oh.

His mouth was warm against her, the first slow contact sending a shiver through her stomach. Rebecca's thighs tensed instinctively around him.

Knowing it was coming had not helped at all.

If anything, it was worse.

This morning she'd had surprise to protect her. She'd been able to tell herself she was waiting for him to guess, that she was earning ten thousand dollars, that she hadn't known what would happen.

Rebecca closed her eyes as his tongue moved against her again.

James was patient.

Infuriatingly patient.

He didn't immediately go searching for the spot that had made her lose control that morning. He took his time, exploring her slowly, learning which touches made her breathing change and which made her hips twitch beneath him.

Rebecca's fingers tightened around the bed sheet.

Another slow pass of his tongue made her inhale sharply.

Then another.

God.

She understood now why he'd seemed so confident this morning.

James was very, very good at this.

Whenever she began moving against him, he followed her rather than forcing her back into his rhythm. When she tensed, he slowed. When something made a tiny sound escape her, he did it again.

He was paying attention.

That was almost as embarrassing as what he was actually doing.

Rebecca pressed the back of her head into the pillow.

“Oh...”

James didn't answer.

Then his tongue brushed over her clitoris.

Rebecca's hips jerked.

“Oh!”

There.

That.

She still didn't have a name for what he was doing to her. She only knew that was the place.

And James remembered.

James settled into the same slow rhythm that had undone her that morning, except now Rebecca knew exactly where it was leading.

Her thighs tightened around him.

Her body began making those tiny, humiliating movements again, following his mouth whenever he moved and pressing closer whenever he returned to that spot.

This time Rebecca noticed herself doing it.

Her fingers released the sheet and hesitated before finding his hair beneath the covers.

Oh my God.

She was holding his head.

Rebecca nearly snatched her hand away.

James's hand gently closed around her wrist before she could.

Not restraining it.

Just keeping it there.

Rebecca swallowed.

Then her fingers slowly curled into his hair again.

He's really good at this.

Of course he was.

Porn star.

Her eyes opened.

That thought should probably have bothered her considerably more than it did.

Instead another occurred to her.

James knew what he was doing because he'd done this before.

Probably lots of times.

Rebecca frowned at the ceiling.

She didn't like that thought nearly as much.

Which was ridiculous.

She was married.

He was a porn star.

She was still mad at him.

And somehow she was jealous?

“James.”

He stopped immediately.

Rebecca regretted saying his name almost as quickly as she'd said it.

“What?”

His head appeared above the covers.

She stared at him.

There was something almost comical about the sight after everything that had happened that day, and a tiny laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“What?” he asked again.

Rebecca hesitated.

The thought that finally came out wasn't remotely the one she'd intended.

“I forgot your kiss.”

James blinked.

“My what?”

“Your second kiss. Today.” She swallowed. “I only kissed you once.”

His expression changed.

“You're right.”

Rebecca barely had time to wonder what that expression meant before James moved.

He came back up the bed, caught her face gently in one hand and kissed her.

Rebecca made a startled sound against his mouth.

James kissed her again before she could say anything, slower this time, his hand sliding behind her neck as he drew her toward him.

Oh.

Oh.

This was apparently her second kiss.

Rebecca's hands found his shoulders.

She'd kissed James enough times now that she should have been getting used to it.

She wasn't.

There was something different about letting him lead. James didn't hesitate or second-guess where to put his hands. He seemed to know exactly when to deepen the kiss and exactly when to ease away just enough to make her follow him.

Which she did.

Rebecca followed him without even thinking about it.

His mouth left hers for barely a second.

She chased it.

James smiled against her lips.

Don't you dare.

Rebecca kissed him harder.

That wiped the smile away.

Somewhere during all of this, James shifted over her.

Rebecca became aware of his weight first.

Then something considerably harder pressed against her through his boxers.

She froze.

James did too.

She'd felt it before. Against her butt. In her hand. In her mouth.

This was different.

It was pressed directly between them.

Rebecca swallowed. James started to pull his hips away.

She didn't let him. Her hands tightened around his shoulders and she kissed him again.

Then, experimentally, Rebecca moved her hips. The pressure dragged against her through the thin fabric separating them.

Her breath caught against his mouth.

Oh.

She did it again.

James stopped kissing her for half a second.

“Rebecca.”

“What?”

He stared down at her.

Rebecca kissed him before he could object.

This time, when her hips rose, his moved with hers.

She felt the difference immediately.

James wasn't merely letting her rub against him anymore.

He was doing it back.

Rebecca's thoughts scattered.

They kissed through it, neither quite willing to stop long enough to acknowledge what they were doing. Her nightgown had ridden high beneath the covers. James still had his boxers on. There was fabric between them.

That was apparently enough for Rebecca's conscience.

Barely.

James's hips pressed forward again.

Rebecca made a sound into his mouth that she would have been mortified to hear from herself anywhere else.

He swallowed it with another kiss.

Again.

Rebecca met him.

Again.

Harder.

By the time James finally broke the kiss, they were both breathing hard.

His forehead rested against hers.

Rebecca could still feel him pressed against her.

For several seconds neither spoke.

Then Rebecca whispered, “Will you put it in now?”

James looked at her.

And smirked.

“No.”

She stared at him. “No?”

“No.”

“But--”

James kissed her once. Just once.

Then his head disappeared back beneath the covers.

Oh.

Rebecca's indignation vanished.

Oh.

She rapidly realized that James had been holding back before.

His touch had been patient. His movements had been gentle and practiced.

Now he was devouring her.

His mouth pressed firmly against her, his tongue returning relentlessly to the place he'd already learned could undo her.

Rebecca's fingers twisted into the sheets.

The feeling rose too quickly for her to think about anything else.

“James!”

He didn't stop.

She felt herself tipping toward that same impossible edge from the morning, only this time there was no shock to hide behind. She knew exactly what was happening.

Exactly what was coming.

And she wanted it.

Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut.

Oh God.

Then everything else disappeared.