Make James Hard

---

There was an unpleasant scratchy feeling in Rebecca's throat, and her jaw ached.

She'd gone looking for something to eat after the challenge and discovered the fridge was filled with pre-made options. The chicken salad roll had looked safe enough.

Unfortunately, it hadn't taken the flavor of whatever that was out of her mouth.

Coffee hadn't either.

Rebecca sat at the kitchen island with both hands around the mug, staring at nothing in particular.

It was bothering her.

Not simply that she'd got the answer wrong, but that she seemingly wasn't allowed to know what the answer was. James had been acting strange during and after the challenge, not meeting her eyes and now... he was making himself scarce.

She took a worried sip of coffee when a soft whoosh from the hall caught her attention, followed by the flap of the letterbox snapping shut.

Rebecca frowned towards the doorway.

“Hello?”

Nobody answered.

Rebecca slipped down from the stool and went to investigate.

She found a small pink envelope lying on the mat beneath the front door.

“Oh, for goodness' sake.”

MRS. ASHFORD was written across the front.

Rebecca carried it back to the kitchen and regarded it suspiciously over the rim of her coffee. The last one had resulted in a blindfold, an aching jaw and a taste that apparently neither chicken salad nor coffee could get out of her mouth.

Reluctantly, she opened it.

Mrs. Ashford,
Congratulations on a successful taste-testing challenge! You did really well to get so many answers correct.
Sorry that the last round was so hard.
Unfortunately, your next challenge will be even harder.
Or should we say... not hard enough?
MAKE JAMES HARD. This one's a daily challenge, sweetheart. Once a day, you can try anything you can think of -- but you will only have five minutes from when you start trying.
Good luck!
Love,
Mike

Rebecca read it again.

Make James hard.

Rebecca frowned. She knew perfectly well what that meant.

But she didn't understand.

Was this truly a challenge? Hadn't she technically done exactly that yesterday?

Make James hard.

Anything that you can think of.

There was the obvious solution, of course, but doing that with her hand again would mean willingly choosing to do it. Yesterday she'd been following the challenge. This time there would be nobody telling her where to put her hand or what to do with it.

Somehow, that made it considerably worse.

Her mind went to Richard. How did she make him hard?

As far as Rebecca knew, she didn't.

Some nights he simply was, and then he put that hardness to use. She'd never thought of it as something she caused, much less something she might deliberately set out to cause.

Rebecca stared at the card for another moment.

There was really only one sensible thing to do.

Ask James.

Her stomach immediately tightened.

On second thought, perhaps there were two problems.

---

Rebecca found James in the lounge, apparently reading a book.

She caught the edge of his phone concealed between the pages and wondered why he didn't simply use it openly, but that was a question for another time.

"We have a problem," she told him reluctantly. "Another challenge."

James lowered the book. “What is it this time? Another taste test?”

"Worse."

Without another word, she handed him the card. He read it, then looked up at her.

“Didn't we do this yesterday?”

“That's what I thought.”

“Should be easy, then.”

“No.” Rebecca folded her arms. “I'm not doing that again. The card doesn't actually say I have to.”

“So, how are you planning on doing it then?”

She shrugged, arms still folded, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“I was hoping you might have an idea.”

James considered her for a moment. “Isn't that cheating?”

“How would it be cheating?”

“You're supposed to figure out how to make me hard. Asking me how seems like skipping a few steps.”

Rebecca tightened her folded arms. “It says I can try anything I can think of.”

“Well now you've tried asking me and that didn't work. So what's next?”

She stared at him.

James smiled.

“You're being very unhelpful.”

“It's supposed to be a challenge.”

Rebecca looked down at the card again.

Anything you can think of.

“What would women normally do?”

James lowered the book into his lap. “To seduce a man?”

“I am not seducing you.”

His eyes dropped pointedly to the card.

Rebecca felt her cheeks warm.

He was enjoying this. That much was obvious.

Rebecca stood in front of him with the little card held against her chest, suddenly feeling rather foolish. Five minutes. Once she started, she would have five minutes to accomplish something she had never deliberately tried to accomplish in her life.

“Fine,” James said. “Flirt with me.”

Rebecca blinked. “That's your advice?”

“You asked.”

James leaned back into the sofa.

Rebecca stared at him for another moment before sitting beside him, card still in hand.

“What exactly do you mean by flirt?”

“You just told me you knew how.”

“I do. I'm asking what you mean by it.”

Rebecca gestured impatiently with the card while James's smile grew.

“Just try your best, I'll give feedback at the end.”

Rebecca glanced down at the card.

Anything you can think of.

There was no reason to be nervous. Flirting wasn't even particularly scandalous. Married women flirted with their husbands all the time.

Presumably.

Rebecca couldn't immediately remember the last time she'd flirted with Richard. In high school she used to flutter her eyelashes and chew on the end of her pencils, but that was an involuntary reaction to her crush speaking with her.

“All right.”

James's eyebrows rose. “Starting?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes.” He counted down. “Four fifty-five.”

Rebecca stood again.

She needed to actually look as though she was flirting.

She rested one hand against the arm of the sofa and shifted her weight slightly, trying to remember what women did in movies. Her other hand went to her hair almost automatically.

There.

That seemed right.

Rebecca tilted her head and attempted what she hoped was an inviting expression.

James's mouth twitched.

“You look like you're trying not to laugh!”

“No, Rebecca. This is just... you look great.”

With that, Rebecca put on her best sultry voice. “Do you uh, like what you see?”

James nodded. “Very much so.”

The answer came rather more quickly than she'd expected.

His eyes left hers.

Rebecca watched them drop to the neckline of her dress, linger there for a distinctly unnecessary moment, then continue over her waist and bare legs.

Heat rushed straight into her face.

“James!”

His eyes came back up. “What?”

“You were staring at my chest.”

“You asked if I liked what I saw.”

“I didn't tell you to stare at my body!”

“Rebecca, you're supposed to be trying to turn me on.”

She stared at him.

Put like that, the challenge sounded considerably worse.

“You can do that without staring.”

“How?”

Rebecca opened her mouth.

Nothing immediately presented itself.

Without another word she sat beside him again, crossed one leg carefully over the other and turned towards him.

Her dress immediately became another problem.

Rebecca looked down.

Crossing her legs had drawn the already-short wrap higher along one thigh, while the overlapping front had loosened enough that she could see considerably more of herself than she'd intended.

She caught the hem and tugged it firmly down.

The neckline moved instead.

Rebecca froze.

This was ridiculous. She was spending more time managing the dress than flirting.

Fine. Ignore it.

She turned towards James instead, wound an auburn curl around one finger and lowered her chin slightly. Women did that. She'd seen them do it.

James watched her.

Rebecca tried the look through her lashes.

Nothing obvious happened.

Perhaps she still wasn't close enough.

Without breaking eye contact, she uncrossed her legs and shifted along the cushion towards him.

The movement pulled the overlapping panels of the little wrap skirt apart.

Rebecca didn't notice.

James's eyes dropped.

Only for a second.

The loose panels of Rebecca's wrap dress had separated as her right leg descended, and what he saw was not merely the pale length of her thighs. There were no panties beneath the dress. For that fleeting instant, she was bare between them, freshly shaved, before the movement of her legs brought the fabric back across her lap.

His gaze snapped upwards.

Rebecca caught him.

There.

That was definitely something.

Heat climbed into her cheeks, but underneath it came a tiny, shamefully satisfying spark.

She'd made him look.

Just by looking at him like that.

Apparently he liked her legs.

Rebecca almost smiled.

She hadn't expected knowing that to feel quite so nice.

It didn't occur to her that uncrossing them might have shown him rather more than her thighs. She'd spent enough of the day without underwear that, absurdly, she'd stopped consciously remembering she wasn't wearing any.

James had called her beautiful that morning and she'd spent an embarrassing amount of time remembering it afterwards.

Perhaps men weren't so different.

“You have very nice eyes,” Rebecca said.

It came out more confidently than she'd expected.

James paused. "Thanks."

Rebecca frowned.

It was like complimenting a brick wall.

She sat back, considering him. There had been a reaction before. She was certain of it. His eyes had dropped the moment she'd moved closer.

Perhaps it really was her legs.

As casually as she could, Rebecca crossed them again.

James's gaze immediately followed the movement.

This time, she'd wanted him to look.

His eyes dropped so quickly that Rebecca nearly laughed.

Oh.

Interesting.

Her own gaze wandered downwards. Past his shirt. Past his belt.

She thought she was being subtle.

She wasn't.

“Rebecca.”

Her eyes snapped back to his face.

“Are you checking if I'm hard?”

“What?”

“I can take it out if that's easier.”

Rebecca felt herself going red. “That won't be necessary.”

James bit back a smile.

Rebecca straightened, attempting to recover what remained of her dignity. There was an obvious solution anyway.

“You can simply tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“You know perfectly well what.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“James.”

He laughed.

Rebecca gave him a look. “When it happens, tell me. Please.”

James's eyebrows rose. “Are you begging me to tell you if I get hard?”

“I am not begging.”

“You said please.”

“That's called having manners.”

“While asking about my erection.”

Rebecca's mouth fell open.

James grinned.

“Oh, you're impossible.” She folded her arms. “Fine. Don't tell me.”

Then she remembered something considerably more important.

“How long do I have left?”

James checked his watch. “One minute.”

Rebecca's eyes widened. “Oh, no. That's not enough time. What can I do?”

“Say something dirty in my ear.”

Rebecca blinked. “Something dirty?”

“Something you'd only say to a man when you're alone together.”

“Like what?”

James looked at her for a moment, apparently recalibrating.

“You really don't know?”

“If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you.”

“All right. Come here.”

Rebecca leaned closer.

“Why are you whispering?”

“So the cameras don't hear.”

Her eyes flicked towards the nearest one.

“They won't?”

“Not if we're quiet enough.”

That made the whole idea unexpectedly easier.

James leaned towards her ear.

What he whispered made Rebecca's eyes widen.

She turned to stare at him.

“People actually say things like that?”

James laughed. “Sometimes.”

Rebecca absorbed this remarkable piece of information.

“And men like that?”

“Very much.”

“Oh.”

She glanced at his watch.

“How long?”

“Twenty-five seconds.”

“Oh, for goodness' sake.”

Rebecca put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards his ear.

Rebecca swallowed. They were only words. She didn't mean them. Richard would never hear them.

“Seventeen.”

“Stop counting.”

“Sixteen. Fifteen.”

She leaned closer.

“I want you to...” Her voice failed.

It was pretend.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I forget I'm Richard's wife.”

She recoiled almost immediately.

Good Lord.

She had actually said it.

Rebecca opened her eyes.

The words seemed somehow worse now that they existed outside her head.

James was looking at her differently.

And, horribly, some small part of her was glad.

Rebecca's eyes dropped once more.

There was definitely a bulge there.

Had that been there before?

She had no idea.

Oh, this was hopeless.

James's watch beeped.

Rebecca looked at it.

“That's five minutes.”

“Oh.”

She looked back into his eyes.

“This is a daily challenge, you said?”

Rebecca nodded.

“Well. You've learned quite a lot for tomorrow.”

She thought about that as she left the room. Tomorrow.

She would have to do this again. And again.

How close had she come? Was five minutes a normal amount of time for a man to get hard?

She could practically hear the audience laughing at her. Mike making a joke. She didn't even know enough about this stuff to know what they'd joke about, and that made her flush.

When she saw the card sitting on her bed waiting for her, she wanted to rip it in half. Instead, she read it.

Mrs. Ashford,

Better luck next time, sweetheart!

Unfortunately, James did not become sufficiently aroused within your five-minute challenge period, so today's challenge has been recorded as a failure.

Rebecca frowned.

Sufficiently aroused?

That wasn't quite what the first card had said.

Then the next sentence properly registered.

A $5,000 penalty has therefore been deducted from your current winnings.

Five thousand dollars.

Gone.

And worse, the card continued.

And you know what happens when we don't complete our challenges...
FORFEIT
Choose one:
A. BED BUDDIES
From tonight onward, James will sleep in your bed. In return, all bedroom cameras will be switched off while you are both in the room.
B. NOWHERE TO HIDE
Cameras will be installed in your private bathroom.

Please make your choice by circling it, and leaving the envelope on your bed.
Sleep tight!

Love,
Mike

She felt sick.

Nowhere to hide. The bathroom had been her solitude. It was the only room where she could shut a door, take off the ridiculous clothes they gave her and stop wondering who might be watching.

This wasn't a choice.

Rebecca knew it, and Mike knew it too.

They knew she'd choose James.

Of course she would. She trusted him.

Rebecca circled A.

The pen remained against the paper for a moment.

James.

Her eyes drifted towards the bedroom door.

There was still one thing about James that had been bothering her all afternoon.

What did he make me taste this morning?