Lady Be Reckless (Duke's Daughters #2)(64)

Was there anything better than being kissed by Edward?

Well, perhaps. Although none of that had happened yet, so she couldn’t answer for certain.

They were standing out on the road, for goodness’ sake, where anyone could see them. Not that they’d seen a soul until they went into town—into that blasted village filled with people who very definitely did not want her assistance—so it likely didn’t matter.

He slid his tongue into her mouth, and she opened her lips to accept him, loving how delicious it felt, how her whole body was starting to tingle.

His hands were stroking her back, up and down, and she moved even closer into his body, putting her hands on his side, underneath his coat, sliding her fingers on his body.

She’d seen what he looked like underneath his clothing. She wanted to see it all again—his firm, muscled chest, his broad shoulders, the sprinkling of hair on his chest. She wanted to run her fingers all over him. Yes, there too.

There where she felt him pressed against her.

She wanted more.

She drew her head back and looked at him, noting his heavy-lidded gaze, his deep inhalation of breath, his intense focus on her.

“It’s going to rain. We should find shelter.”

He looked at her as though he didn’t understand at first, then nodded, a wry smile on his mouth.

“I know just where to go. We can stay there until the storm passes.”

He took her arm and they ran, ran down the narrow path hand in hand, her heart beating against her ribs, her thoughts filled with a tumult of emotions—I love him, I don’t know who I am, I want this, I want him, I want, I want, I want.

They ran until she was breathless, and she lagged behind as he pulled her along. They came to the outskirts of Mr. Beechcroft’s property, where Olivia saw a small shed with shutters.

“There,” he said, slowing his pace and walking briskly. “It’s where the gardeners keep their tools, but they won’t be working today.”

She bit her lip and looked up at him.

“But if you have changed your mind, and you want to return to the house, we can do that as well,” he said, his eyes intent on her face.

“No. I want this.” I want you.

He smiled, and turned to open the door, allowing her to step inside ahead of him.

The shed was spare and tidy, a variety of what she assumed were gardening tools hanging on the walls. There was a pile of cloth bags in one corner, and a few chairs set in front of rough, wood-hewn table.

The room was dark, and it felt immediately more intimate. As though only they existed here, in this moment. He was Edward and she was Olivia, and that was all there was to them.

He shut the door and turned to her, taking her in his arms again and lowering his mouth to her lips.

She didn’t hesitate, but opened her lips to slide her tongue into his mouth, placing her palms on his chest and stroking the firm muscles she felt underneath his clothing.

She needed to see him again.

She reached up to push his jacket off his shoulders, sliding the sleeves off his arms without breaking the kiss.

It was awkward, it probably looked ridiculous, but she didn’t care about that. She just wanted him.

He smiled under her mouth, and she felt a chuckle in her chest.

Who knew kissing could be so fun?

He withdrew for a moment so he could remove his jacket entirely, tossing it onto one of the wooden chairs.

She raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his waistcoat. “That too, please,” she said in her most commanding manner.

“Have I mentioned how much I like it when you tell me what to do?” he replied, grinning wickedly as his fingers went to his buttons. He undid them rapidly, far faster than she would have done, and soon enough his waistcoat was lying on top of his jacket, leaving him only in his shirt and trousers.

He paused as his hands went to the fabric of his shirt.

“Why are you stopping? I want it off now,” she said, noting how breathily she spoke. How urgently she wanted him to take his shirt off so she could see him—just him—again.

He nodded toward her. “I expect there to be some reciprocity in this arrangement. We are equal, are we not? We all deserve what each other has?”

She felt her lips curve into a rueful smile. “When I have spoken like that in the past, I did not mean about this,” she said, gesturing in the space between them.

“But it is fair, isn’t it? That we each be given a chance?” He drew the tails of his shirt out of his trousers, exposing a bare swath of skin.

There was enough light in the shed, thankfully, for her to see the trail of hair that led down his skin into his trousers.

To there.

“I suppose in the interest of equality,” she said, turning around so she had her back to him.

His fingers went immediately to the buttons on the back of her dress, and he worked quickly, his warm breath on the nape of her neck. A curl tickling her skin as he bent toward her.

A few minutes later—there were far too many buttons, Olivia decided—he’d tugged her sleeves down and she finished the work as his hands went to her waist to push her gown down.

She stepped out of the fabric as he leaned over to pick the gown up, folding it carefully, his eyes averted from her as he placed it on the other chair.

And then he was looking at her, and she caught her breath at the intensity of his gaze. She felt hot all over, even though she was standing in her shift and corset, and the air was cool.