her head. “I owe you the respect of referring to you by your surname.”
Uncle Hewlett’s shoulders squared. He’d been offended. His jaw set and his eyes narrowed. “My last name is the same as Miss Belle’s pa’s, and I expect you to refer to me as Uncle Hewlett.”
Alice gave him a curt nod. “You may refer to me as Miss O’Malley.”
He studied her for a moment. “I’ll do no such thing. In this house, you are Miss Alice. We are, all of us, family here. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” she said quickly.
I suppressed a grin, gathering Alice wasn’t accustomed to anyone being more overbearing than she was.
She sat beside me on the settee, and Uncle Hewlett resumed his reel. As the night wore on, everyone gradually accepted Alice’s different manner of look and dress. Doubtless, my cousins thought all Yankee girls acted like Alice.
While everyone else grew more and more at ease, I became increasingly tense. Soon, we’d all be turning in, and I would be getting in bed with Alice again.
I shifted on the settee. The motion of my thighs pressing together made me ache anew. Although I clapped in time to the music, my thoughts were miles away, drifting in the dark where I could be touched…and venture to touch. Behind my closed door and under the sheets, I could indulge my illicit fantasies, and no one would ever know.
* * *
Alice had already gone to our room while I closed up the house for the night. My heart thundered as I climbed the stairs. I couldn’t wait to have her hands on me again. I couldn’t wait to lose myself in the pleasure she gave to me.
God in heaven, what was I doing?
I pushed all doubt away. I needed this. I wanted this.
Alice sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed in Dalton’s clothes.
Trembling, I closed my bedroom door, and then holding her gaze, I twisted the key in the lock. Already, my cunny clenched in anticipation. Cream flooded my channel, dampening my pantalets for the second time today. Why couldn’t I get enough of this? Why had the one time not satisfied me?
Alice stared. I swallowed, summoning courage. “Touch me,” I said, my voice but a breath. “Please touch me again.”
A long, taut silence ensued, and for a moment, I thought she would refuse me. Finally, she pushed herself up and walked across the room to where I stood. My lashes fluttered shut, and I gulped deep breaths of air as she wordlessly began undressing me. Her hands worked hastily. Neither of us spoke as she peeled away my bodice and then unlaced my corset. I started to tell her I had to leave it tied so I could wriggle into it since I had no one left to lace it, but I kept my mouth shut and my eyes closed.
The whalebone and cotton fell away. She released the tapes that held up my chemise, and suddenly my top half was naked. My nipples pebbled as the cool air wafted over them.
Her fingers tugged the drawstring of my petticoat. It whispered down and dropped in a heap around my ankles. She didn’t merely help me out of my clothes. She exposed me, and I did absolutely nothing to stop her.
She turned me and pushed my back against the door, her face hovering inches from mine as she untied the ribbons that held up my pantalets. I resisted the urge to stop her, to grasp the waistband and hold up the last barrier between her fingers and my body.
Her quick, harsh breaths fanned my face, smelling of the sweet Muscadine wine we’d sipped. Her hands shook as she pushed my pantalets down. My chest rose and fell, brushing her coarse linen shirt.
I wanted her. I wanted her as I’d wanted Dalton. More. My body shook with the need to touch her, to please her, to open and soften to her.
Her hands threaded into my hair and released the clasp that held up my chignon. I heard it clatter to the floor as my long locks spilled down over my shoulders. Opening my eyes, I watched as she wound one of my black curls around her index finger.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured.
Boldly, I took her hand
Uncle Hewlett’s shoulders squared. He’d been offended. His jaw set and his eyes narrowed. “My last name is the same as Miss Belle’s pa’s, and I expect you to refer to me as Uncle Hewlett.”
Alice gave him a curt nod. “You may refer to me as Miss O’Malley.”
He studied her for a moment. “I’ll do no such thing. In this house, you are Miss Alice. We are, all of us, family here. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” she said quickly.
I suppressed a grin, gathering Alice wasn’t accustomed to anyone being more overbearing than she was.
She sat beside me on the settee, and Uncle Hewlett resumed his reel. As the night wore on, everyone gradually accepted Alice’s different manner of look and dress. Doubtless, my cousins thought all Yankee girls acted like Alice.
While everyone else grew more and more at ease, I became increasingly tense. Soon, we’d all be turning in, and I would be getting in bed with Alice again.
I shifted on the settee. The motion of my thighs pressing together made me ache anew. Although I clapped in time to the music, my thoughts were miles away, drifting in the dark where I could be touched…and venture to touch. Behind my closed door and under the sheets, I could indulge my illicit fantasies, and no one would ever know.
* * *
Alice had already gone to our room while I closed up the house for the night. My heart thundered as I climbed the stairs. I couldn’t wait to have her hands on me again. I couldn’t wait to lose myself in the pleasure she gave to me.
God in heaven, what was I doing?
I pushed all doubt away. I needed this. I wanted this.
Alice sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed in Dalton’s clothes.
Trembling, I closed my bedroom door, and then holding her gaze, I twisted the key in the lock. Already, my cunny clenched in anticipation. Cream flooded my channel, dampening my pantalets for the second time today. Why couldn’t I get enough of this? Why had the one time not satisfied me?
Alice stared. I swallowed, summoning courage. “Touch me,” I said, my voice but a breath. “Please touch me again.”
A long, taut silence ensued, and for a moment, I thought she would refuse me. Finally, she pushed herself up and walked across the room to where I stood. My lashes fluttered shut, and I gulped deep breaths of air as she wordlessly began undressing me. Her hands worked hastily. Neither of us spoke as she peeled away my bodice and then unlaced my corset. I started to tell her I had to leave it tied so I could wriggle into it since I had no one left to lace it, but I kept my mouth shut and my eyes closed.
The whalebone and cotton fell away. She released the tapes that held up my chemise, and suddenly my top half was naked. My nipples pebbled as the cool air wafted over them.
Her fingers tugged the drawstring of my petticoat. It whispered down and dropped in a heap around my ankles. She didn’t merely help me out of my clothes. She exposed me, and I did absolutely nothing to stop her.
She turned me and pushed my back against the door, her face hovering inches from mine as she untied the ribbons that held up my pantalets. I resisted the urge to stop her, to grasp the waistband and hold up the last barrier between her fingers and my body.
Her quick, harsh breaths fanned my face, smelling of the sweet Muscadine wine we’d sipped. Her hands shook as she pushed my pantalets down. My chest rose and fell, brushing her coarse linen shirt.
I wanted her. I wanted her as I’d wanted Dalton. More. My body shook with the need to touch her, to please her, to open and soften to her.
Her hands threaded into my hair and released the clasp that held up my chignon. I heard it clatter to the floor as my long locks spilled down over my shoulders. Opening my eyes, I watched as she wound one of my black curls around her index finger.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured.
Boldly, I took her hand
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