A kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight in my stomach. I was fairly certain my cheeks were the same shade his ears had been. “My drawers are not see-through, as yours are.” They were, however, quite open in the middle, if one were to part the two halves.
Admiral whinnied in the background, as if warning me not to cross the precipice I was standing on.
“It matters none.” Sebastian shrugged.
It mattered quite a bit. Nonetheless, I was inherently unable to stand down from a challenge. As I slowly stood, he mirrored my movements. I started to lift my skirts, but he shook his head.
“Take off the dress.”
His demand unhinged my jaw.
“I stand here in only my drawers. You will do the same.”
“No.”
He stepped toward me, looking at the clothes still under the tree.
“Wait. I’ll give you your shirt.”
“Fine.” He nodded.
Spinning around, I pulled the shirt from the wad before handing it to him. He stepped close, eyes on mine. Snatching it with one hand, he turned away before slipping it on.
I admired his buttocks the entire time.
Facing me, he placed his hands on his hips, securing his shirt out of the way. This time, I stepped closer. The outline of his appendage was clearly visible. It was quite a bit bigger than what I had seen of the little boys in the scullery, appearing to have a ridge near the tip. What on earth was that for? And it did not flop down as theirs had. Instead, appearing somewhat rigid. Surrounding the base was a slight darkened area. Was that hair?
“Your turn, Emmeline.” I peeled my gaze away to find Sebastian watching me with hooded eyes.
I breathed in before swallowing past a tightened throat. My fists clenched handfuls of fabric, inching it up. My chest rose and fell in rapid succession. I reached under the layers of petticoats to find my chemise and hefted the weight to my waist. My legs shook. I was in grave danger of falling, so I sat instead, before reclining back on his trousers.
Sebastian fell to his knees, taking me in with great concentration. I know not of what possessed me, but I let my knees fall to the sides. He had shown me himself through the flimsiest of shields; it was only fair that I exposed as much of myself as he. My only regret was not asking him to remove the barrier.
His hand flexed as he stared. His appendage seemed to strain at the fabric.
“Is that not uncomfortable?” I made a point of looking at his predicament to ensure he knew of what I spoke.
“Yes, it is.”
“What do you require to ease the discomfort?”
He groaned. Shaking his head, he covered his crotch with his palm. “I’ll need to go for another swim.”
“Oh.” I sat, pulling down my skirts. “Are you feverish?”
He made a choking sound. “You might say that.”
“Have I made you unwell?”
“In all the right ways, Emmeline. May I have my trousers, please?”
I twisted to collect my captives before handing them to their rightful owner. I released a gasp. To my shock and delight he had dropped his drawers, slipping his trousers on without an undergarment.
He grinned as he fixed his suspenders. “It’s only fair.”
My heart swelled as my face broke into a smile. I was so pleased I had escaped the drudgery of the afternoon—watching Sebastian had been infinitely more enjoyable.
I waited until he was dressed before I leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
His movements slowed. He ensnared me in his gaze. The spark I’d caught fleeting glimpses of was now a simmering ember. It burned me to my core. Reflexively, I pressed my thighs together. With unmistakable intent, he held me by my forearms and placed his lips on mine.
Overcome by a rush of euphoria, I fell into him, circling him with my arms. He was still rigid. It pushed against my stomach. My body responded with an ache between my legs. I broke away from the kiss, needing to share my epiphany. “Oh, now I know what you meant by feverish. I feel a discomfort down there. Is it the same as what you experience?”
He blew out a breath, resting his forehead on mine before laughing. “I suppose it is.” He kissed me again.
I held him tightly, never wanting to let go. “I wanted to touch it,” I whispered.
He growled. “Stop.”
“Did you not want to touch me?”
“You will be the death of me, Emmeline. Mark my words.”
Grasping my hand in his, he marched me down to the riverbed to collect his shoes and the Admiral. We walked ever so slowly until the chimney stacks of the manor came into view. He loosened his grip on my hand, pulling it up to his mouth for one last kiss before leaving me behind.
The servant and the daughter of the manor would never be acceptable company.
Ben
Rockhampton, Australia
7th of November 2008, 8:52 p.m.
“We’re stealing his balls,” Stewart slurred before chugging back the rest of his beer.
The backyard of our mate’s semi-rural home had been converted into an outdoor pub, complete with a nineties cover band in the back corner. The music vibrated my whole body with every beat. A corrugated iron and wood bar sat snug against the rear kitchen entry, and a pool table invited players into the shed. Someone had strung party lights in the trees and set up tables and chairs across the lawn. Down the side of the house, lining the driveway, were his-and-hers Portaloos. Nobody was allowed inside the house. I wouldn’t have let this lot in my house either.
I squinted at Stew. “You wanna what?”
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and yanked me close to
