She felt his hands push up beneath the back of her shirt, painting the arched incline of her bare skin with mud as he kissed her with abandon. The rain washed their faces clean, and made each joining of their lips more slippery and sensuous than the last.
His other hand cradled the back of her head as he kissed her, and Cara felt herself melt against him. The heat of her attraction to Simon burned almost unbearably hot, it was true, but this felt different than their previous encounters. This felt deeply passionate, and Cara sensed something tremble within her at the realization that her feelings for the man extended much further than just needing sexual satisfaction. He was interesting, and funny, and more than a little mysterious…and God, the way he kissed her, alternating sides and tonguing his way to the roof of her mouth, as if kissing was the filthiest and most fulfilling thing that a man and a woman could do to each other…
A booming crack of thunder overhead broke them apart. Cara gasped and turned her head up. She regretted the move instantly. Rain flooded down her face, and she took in another startled, slightly choked breath. The noise resolved into a laugh of disbelief at their circumstances. She felt Simon's hand cup the back of her neck, and glanced down to see the man smiling fondly at her. His smile receded some with the next boom of thunder.
"We had better get inside," he said. "Melinda will not be happy with me, but I'd rather face her rage than that of the oncoming storm."
"I think the storm has arrived," Cara mentioned as they got to their feet; no tricks this time. "Thank you for letting me stay another night." It was getting harder and harder to assume the role of the indebted guest when her host insisted on kissing her senseless every chance he got. Simon nodded, studying her a moment longer, before seeming to arrive at some private conclusion about her. He raised his hand to her face, sweeping his thumb through a patch of mud on her cheek, but there was no hope for it: he was right. They needed to head back inside.
They walked slowly together up the remaining length of the driveway, and were admitted almost at once. Cara found herself whisked off to her room to change by Melinda. She managed a glance behind her as she disappeared up the stairs, and watched as Simon accepted the towel that Gerald offered him; in the next moment, she saw him put his hand up to refuse the drink that was poured and ready to be pressed into his palm.
As Melinda tutted, Cara turned back around and smiled to herself.
CHAPTER 8
She could hardly wait for dinner to arrive that evening. By the time it struck seven o'clock, Cara was already halfway down the stairs to the dining room.
She had cleaned up well, and after drying and curling her hair into soft golden ringlets, she had crossed to her suitcase and pulled it open. She had brought most of her nice things with her from school, considering she was spending the holidays with her family. The Langfords were definitely a clan that liked to dress up for pre-meal photos; now that most of the children were older, photos tended to dissolve fairy quickly into drinking games after that (Cara hadn't been excluded from these since she turned eighteen). She pulled out a blouse she had worn last Christmas at their family gathering and smiled fondly at the memories. She loved her family, and missed them fiercely while she was away at school.
She had been out of communication with them for a few days now. She had finished finals midweek and left campus earlier than she had originally planned, intending to surprise them with her arrival home. They had no reason to be worried about not hearing from her, but she wondered if she should use the mansion's landline to call them. Something told her this would be more trouble than it was worth. She would have to explain that she had broken down, that the weather was bad and she couldn't get a tow, that
His other hand cradled the back of her head as he kissed her, and Cara felt herself melt against him. The heat of her attraction to Simon burned almost unbearably hot, it was true, but this felt different than their previous encounters. This felt deeply passionate, and Cara sensed something tremble within her at the realization that her feelings for the man extended much further than just needing sexual satisfaction. He was interesting, and funny, and more than a little mysterious…and God, the way he kissed her, alternating sides and tonguing his way to the roof of her mouth, as if kissing was the filthiest and most fulfilling thing that a man and a woman could do to each other…
A booming crack of thunder overhead broke them apart. Cara gasped and turned her head up. She regretted the move instantly. Rain flooded down her face, and she took in another startled, slightly choked breath. The noise resolved into a laugh of disbelief at their circumstances. She felt Simon's hand cup the back of her neck, and glanced down to see the man smiling fondly at her. His smile receded some with the next boom of thunder.
"We had better get inside," he said. "Melinda will not be happy with me, but I'd rather face her rage than that of the oncoming storm."
"I think the storm has arrived," Cara mentioned as they got to their feet; no tricks this time. "Thank you for letting me stay another night." It was getting harder and harder to assume the role of the indebted guest when her host insisted on kissing her senseless every chance he got. Simon nodded, studying her a moment longer, before seeming to arrive at some private conclusion about her. He raised his hand to her face, sweeping his thumb through a patch of mud on her cheek, but there was no hope for it: he was right. They needed to head back inside.
They walked slowly together up the remaining length of the driveway, and were admitted almost at once. Cara found herself whisked off to her room to change by Melinda. She managed a glance behind her as she disappeared up the stairs, and watched as Simon accepted the towel that Gerald offered him; in the next moment, she saw him put his hand up to refuse the drink that was poured and ready to be pressed into his palm.
As Melinda tutted, Cara turned back around and smiled to herself.
CHAPTER 8
She could hardly wait for dinner to arrive that evening. By the time it struck seven o'clock, Cara was already halfway down the stairs to the dining room.
She had cleaned up well, and after drying and curling her hair into soft golden ringlets, she had crossed to her suitcase and pulled it open. She had brought most of her nice things with her from school, considering she was spending the holidays with her family. The Langfords were definitely a clan that liked to dress up for pre-meal photos; now that most of the children were older, photos tended to dissolve fairy quickly into drinking games after that (Cara hadn't been excluded from these since she turned eighteen). She pulled out a blouse she had worn last Christmas at their family gathering and smiled fondly at the memories. She loved her family, and missed them fiercely while she was away at school.
She had been out of communication with them for a few days now. She had finished finals midweek and left campus earlier than she had originally planned, intending to surprise them with her arrival home. They had no reason to be worried about not hearing from her, but she wondered if she should use the mansion's landline to call them. Something told her this would be more trouble than it was worth. She would have to explain that she had broken down, that the weather was bad and she couldn't get a tow, that
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