Garters.htm by Pamela Morsi Read Free Book Online

warm comfortable feel of Cleav's fingers at her waist so captured her attention that, glancing to the side, she was startled to find his face so close. How could such pale blue eyes appear so hot, so deep?
    It was desire. Desire, the same as in those well-remembered fleeting moments in the store.
    But then she had felt power, control. Now, surrounded by him, his hands touching her so firmly yet so tenderly, his mouth, his lips so close, she was entranced, not entrancing. Gathering her courage, she forced herself to speak. "Should I feed them more?" she asked him, her voice trembling with its whisper.
    "No." His answer was brief, but the sound of it continued to linger in her breast.
    She met his gaze but couldn't hold it as time and time again his focus dropped to her lips, which warmed so quickly under his perusal that without thought her tongue snaked out to dampen them.
    His eyes widened perceptibly, and the grip on her waist tightened. "Esme…" The word was a tortured whisper.
    She was trembling now. The nearness of him, the desire, the fear all warred together inside her. Would he kiss her? When would he kiss her? What would she do if he kissed her? Should she scream? Should she run? Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her.
    He had turned his head slightly to the side. Save to graces, Cleavis Rhy was going to kiss her! Those long muscled arms were going to hold her. That beautiful mouth was going to press against hers. Those long slender fingers were going to touch her, caress her. It was going to happen. He moved closer, only so slightly. Yes, it was going to be a kiss. She was sure of it. Any second now his lips would touch hers. Any second now. Any second. Now! Now!
    She couldn't wait any longer.
    Esme threw herself at Cleavis Rhy. Clasping her arms tightly around his neck, she slammed her warm wet lips against his.
    At her sudden lurch Cleav lost his balance and fell back against the ground. Esme sprawled on top of him, wiggling closer by the minute. Her fingers grasped his dark hair by the handfuls. Her lips stuck to his tighter than a tick on a stray dog.
    She heard a strangled exclamation from his throat and felt the strength of him as gently but firmly he tried to roll her off of him.
    The feel of his long, strong body against hers and the spicy scent of his skin was more pleasurable than Esme had expected. That ball of tingling anxiety that lay low in her abdomen dropped within her, and the craving it triggered robbed the young woman of the last vestiges of her good judgment.
    Instinctively Esme wrapped her strong, work-muscled legs around him and held on for blue blazes. As he rolled her to the ground, she rolled him atop her.
    The fight went out of him for one shocked second as Cleav felt the soft feminine curves of her pressed so intimately against him. Then with his masculine strength he thrust her from him. Rolling to his feet, he crouched before her warily like a wrestler preparing for the next fall.
    Esme sat on the grass, a look of stunned surprise on her face. Her dark serge was hiked up practically to her waist and gave much more than a cursory glimpse of her long fine limbs. One black wool stocking dangled unheeded about the ankle of her workshoe, the other clung precariously to her knee. The legs of her unadorned cotton drawers were diaphanously thin from much washing and wearing.
    Shocked, Cleav turned away, as much for the sake of his own modesty as for her own.
    Still stunned by her actions, Cleav struggled to regain his self-control. One minute they were feeding the fish and the next… It didn't bear close scrutiny.
    How could he have… It was impossible, A gentleman did not sprawl on the ground with a young woman. And young women did not throw themselves into the arms of a gentleman they hardly knew. What was this woman up to?
    The memory came back in a rush.
You wanna marry me
? Good God, did this little hill girl intend to seduce him?
    As his pulse finally returned to normal and his breathing