Read Online The Paler Shade of Autumn by Jacquie Underdown - Free Book Online
Authors: Jacquie Underdown
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stay behind and do arts and crafts. Darshan threads colourful beads onto some fishing line. Jet ties the end for him and agrees that it is a beautiful gift to offer to Autumn. Lost in the atmosphere, the moment, filled with such joy, Autumn can’t restrain the tears, moved by the gesture, the simplicity, innocence and truth behind it.
“Thank you so much, Darshan.” She places it around her neck and lifts her shoulders back, stands taller. “I will always think of you when I wear this.”
Jet translates her words and Darshan smiles wide. He stretches high on his tip-toes, kisses Autumn on the cheek and tells her good night in Hindi.
Autumn watches them leave, blinking back the tears, unsure if they are sympathetic tears or tears of happiness. When all the children have left the room, Jet sits beside Autumn on one of the tables and extends his arm around her shoulders. He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb and smiles.
“I’m sorry,” she says, feeling foolish.
“Don’t be. I was the same. They do that, because you know that such adorable creatures shouldn’t ever be allowed to suffer as they have.”
Fresh tears flood her cheeks. “You’re right. That’s exactly it. It’s so unfair and wrong.”
They sit together silently like they did under the Bodhi Tree, but there is a different spirit here: a spirit of hard and harsh reality, unavoidable and cold. Autumn wipes the residue of tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you for a really wonderful evening. Who would have thought I could have so much fun in the company of orphan children.”
He gives her a most generous smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Autumn leans towards him, kisses him on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, and I really admire you.”
Jet lowers his eyes hastily. He is blinking hard, eyes glossing. “Thank you, Autumn. I appreciate that,” he whispers.
She knows then, remaining at the orphanage is a momentous sacrifice, and it is tough what Jet has to confront on a daily basis. She is certain he doesn’t receive praise too often, nor recognition, and though she intuits that these are things he doesn’t need, he still appears comforted to receive them, nonetheless. She lifts his chin with her finger and presses her lips to his. She kisses him sensually, trying to communicate the enormous affinity she has for him.
Reluctantly he pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. “Let’s not do this here,” he says. “I can’t help thinking Master Shen is going to walk in and get the shock of his life.”
Autumn laughs. “Well where would you like to go?”
He grins. “How about I show you our room?”
At the prospect of spending the night alone with Jet, waves of sensation begin to ebb and flow between her thighs; she hides a single shuddering breath.
Jet closes the door to the darkened room of the music hall and leads Autumn outside. They tread along the aging, timber slats of the veranda, which creak under every step. Jet’s hand rests on the small of her back, directing her path. The night is almost pitch-black. Only the moonlight and rosy glow from the city lights in the distance cast a subtle light, enough to guide their way.
They veer around the corner to the back of the building. Jet grabs Autumn by the wrist, pulls her to him and, without a single word, edges her back to the wall, his strong body pressing against her. It has been much too long since she has felt the hard body of a man, if ever a man like Jet, who tantalises her so.
She parts her lips, ready for him as he brings his lips to hers and kisses her with an urgency she matches. He deftly caresses her waist, thighs, and pleasures the sensitive path from her throat to her jaw with his mouth.
“I love the way you taste,” he breathes.
Autumn’s body tingles from his lips and his words. She delights in the sensations from his curious hands as they slide over the bare skin of her
“Thank you so much, Darshan.” She places it around her neck and lifts her shoulders back, stands taller. “I will always think of you when I wear this.”
Jet translates her words and Darshan smiles wide. He stretches high on his tip-toes, kisses Autumn on the cheek and tells her good night in Hindi.
Autumn watches them leave, blinking back the tears, unsure if they are sympathetic tears or tears of happiness. When all the children have left the room, Jet sits beside Autumn on one of the tables and extends his arm around her shoulders. He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb and smiles.
“I’m sorry,” she says, feeling foolish.
“Don’t be. I was the same. They do that, because you know that such adorable creatures shouldn’t ever be allowed to suffer as they have.”
Fresh tears flood her cheeks. “You’re right. That’s exactly it. It’s so unfair and wrong.”
They sit together silently like they did under the Bodhi Tree, but there is a different spirit here: a spirit of hard and harsh reality, unavoidable and cold. Autumn wipes the residue of tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you for a really wonderful evening. Who would have thought I could have so much fun in the company of orphan children.”
He gives her a most generous smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
Autumn leans towards him, kisses him on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, and I really admire you.”
Jet lowers his eyes hastily. He is blinking hard, eyes glossing. “Thank you, Autumn. I appreciate that,” he whispers.
She knows then, remaining at the orphanage is a momentous sacrifice, and it is tough what Jet has to confront on a daily basis. She is certain he doesn’t receive praise too often, nor recognition, and though she intuits that these are things he doesn’t need, he still appears comforted to receive them, nonetheless. She lifts his chin with her finger and presses her lips to his. She kisses him sensually, trying to communicate the enormous affinity she has for him.
Reluctantly he pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. “Let’s not do this here,” he says. “I can’t help thinking Master Shen is going to walk in and get the shock of his life.”
Autumn laughs. “Well where would you like to go?”
He grins. “How about I show you our room?”
At the prospect of spending the night alone with Jet, waves of sensation begin to ebb and flow between her thighs; she hides a single shuddering breath.
Jet closes the door to the darkened room of the music hall and leads Autumn outside. They tread along the aging, timber slats of the veranda, which creak under every step. Jet’s hand rests on the small of her back, directing her path. The night is almost pitch-black. Only the moonlight and rosy glow from the city lights in the distance cast a subtle light, enough to guide their way.
They veer around the corner to the back of the building. Jet grabs Autumn by the wrist, pulls her to him and, without a single word, edges her back to the wall, his strong body pressing against her. It has been much too long since she has felt the hard body of a man, if ever a man like Jet, who tantalises her so.
She parts her lips, ready for him as he brings his lips to hers and kisses her with an urgency she matches. He deftly caresses her waist, thighs, and pleasures the sensitive path from her throat to her jaw with his mouth.
“I love the way you taste,” he breathes.
Autumn’s body tingles from his lips and his words. She delights in the sensations from his curious hands as they slide over the bare skin of her
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