stepped out of her underwear and put her legs either side of his, straddling his thighs.
She pushed him gently again, forcing him to lie back, as she climbed onto the bed and sat across him.
She plucked the foil packet from the bedside table and tore it open, sheathing him and protecting herself.
She was in a hurry now. Foreplay had been dealt with at the bar and in the lift. Silent communication and agreement had got them this far and she was ready and eager for the satisfaction she anticipated.
She put one hand on each side of his head and lifted her hips as he guided himself inside her, filling her. She closed her eyes as she concentrated on the sensations swamping her. The thickness of his shaft, the slight stretch of the muscles in her inner thighs as she spread her legs wider to take him deeper inside her.
She leant forwards as she raised and lowered her hips, sliding up and down his length. She opened her eyes and watched as his lips parted, listened to his sigh of pleasure. His hooded eyes were darker now, even more intense. She felt his hands on her skin and then his breath as he lifted his head and took one breast into his mouth.
Brighde moaned as waves of pleasure consumed her and her body came to life.
His hands were on her bottom and she could feel each individual finger against her skin. He wasn’t controlling the pace though; his hands were just following her movements, following her rhythm and pace. She was setting the tone. She was in control.
She sat up and felt her nipple peak as the cool air replaced his warm mouth. She wanted to watch him as they made love. She wanted a chance to commit it all to memory.
She reached behind her back and down between his thighs. Her fingers searching. She cupped his balls in her hand; they were hard and tight and cool in her grasp. She rolled them in her hand before circling his shaft with her fingers, following its movement to feel it disappear inside her. Deep inside her.
Her knees were shaking but the muscles in her buttocks and between her thighs were tight. She was panting quickly now, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps almost as if she were forgetting to breathe. She didn’t have enough muscle control spare to focus on breathing.
She couldn’t wait much longer. She could feel the waves of an orgasm threatening to break over her.
His hands had moved to her hips now, keeping her in place. Not that she had any plans to go anywhere. Maybe he was just holding her up.
She could barely keep her eyes open. Every cell in her body was focused on pleasure and there was nothing left for the basics. Nothing left to spare on breathing or thinking.
Brighde let herself go, giving in to the burst of light that wanted to explode in her.
‘Now,’ she begged and she felt him shudder and heard herself cry out as they climaxed together.
She collapsed, exhausted, spent and fulfilled onto his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and she felt him kiss the top of her head. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent. She’d had a few one-night stands—she considered them her only practical option as she wasn’t willing to risk having a real relationship—but she couldn’t say she’d ever found them terribly satisfying and she definitely couldn’t ever remember one as immensely gratifying as tonight.
She wouldn’t mind repeating it, but that wasn’t in her rule book.
One night only. With single men. And only with men she knew she wouldn’t bump into at work or in the supermarket.
But Xavier was on holiday from Scotland. Maybe she could stretch it to twice. But she was leaving tomorrow. Going back to Melbourne and back to work. She only had one night so she’d have to take her second chance tonight and surely twice in one night didn’t count.
She lay with her head on his chest and her fingers splayed across his stomach and listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat under her ear. She closed her eyes and let the silence drift over her.
* * *
She woke an hour later. The hotel room curtains were open and the city lights lit up the room. Xavier’s arm was draped over her shoulder and she slid out from under it, careful not to disturb him. She needed to go.
She ducked, naked, into the bathroom but when she returned to collect her clothes he was awake. He was lying on his back watching her. The covers were off and he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was ready and willing to make love again.
Brighde forgot all about getting dressed as she let him pull her back into bed.
But this time she took care not to fall asleep afterwards. She waited until he drifted off before she dressed and snuck out in the early hours of the morning.
There was no exchange of phone numbers or even last names. She didn’t know anything about him and that was the way she wanted it. She would never see him again. She felt a tiny twinge of disappointment but even though he was magnificent she wasn’t about to break her own rule.
She didn’t do weekends. She didn’t do relationships.
One night was enough.
There was no danger of falling in love in only one night.
* * *
Brighde changed into scrubs ready for another night shift. Her fifth straight. She was exhausted; the maternity wing had been really busy. That wasn’t unusual; Parkville Private Hospital had the largest private maternity service in Melbourne and they were always busy, but the past few shifts had been ridiculous. The nurses were blaming the full moon; there was no scientific evidence to back up their suspicions but years of experience had taught them that a full moon seemed to trigger labour, not only in the women who had reached full term but also for those who were overdue as well as for plenty who were a week or two away from their due dates. The department was bursting at the seams and Brighde was looking forward to a few days off at the end of this shift. Only eight hours to go.
She tied the laces on her sneakers and headed for handover, hoping that tonight would be quiet.
‘Brighde, you can take over from Jacqui. She’s got delivery room three.’ The charge nurse distributed the patients among the new staff.
‘I’ve got Kirsty Jones,’ Jacqui told her.
Brighde remembered Kirsty from prenatal appointments. ‘First baby, husband is Matt, right?’ she clarified.
Jacqui nodded. ‘She’s been in labour for about twelve hours and in active phase for a few hours now. Seven centimetres dilated, contractions four minutes apart. She probably hasn’t got long to go. Do you want me to stay until she delivers?’
It was common for the midwives to extend their shifts if they thought their patients were close to delivering. It made for good continuity of care and the mums appreciated having one midwife throughout. But it wasn’t always possible. Lots of babies took far longer than one shift to make their appearance.
‘Is there much else happening at the moment?’ Brighde asked, meaning, Are we likely to be run off our feet?
‘No.’
‘Go home, then,’ she told Jacqui. ‘I know Kirsty. I’ve got this.’
‘Thanks. I’ve called her doctor. He’s on his way. Dr Davey is on holidays and Dr O’Donnell, the new OB/GYN is covering for him.’ Jacqui was already untying her ponytail, getting ready to leave, as she gave Brighde the final information.
‘OK, all good.’
* * *
‘Kirsty, how are you?’ Brighde stepped into delivery room three and greeted Kirsty and her husband. Kirsty looked tired and Matt didn’t look as if he was faring much better. ‘We’ve had a shift change, it’s my turn now but you won’t have any more changes after this. I promise I’ll be here when your baby is born.’
‘You’d better be,’ Kirsty panted. ‘Your