Chapter 2 #3
And why not? The combination of her lulling song and soothing touch must’ve been heaven. Knowing Matthew had been missing this softness in his life made Cash’s heart clench; he now knew why the lad had asked for a new mother and regretted he hadn’t found one for his son.
But it was impossible to think about getting married again to a lady when Athena was sitting right there. Athena who, were she a lady, would be an ideal candidate for the position: loving, accepting, and adventurous.
Doxies don’t become duchesses.
The reminder didn’t chill him as much as it should, because he was too caught up in the speculation of who she might be.
By the time she was halfway through her third song, Cash knew both lads were fast asleep.
Slowly, her voice faded to silence, and when he glanced up from watching their sons, it was to find her looking at him. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to ask her… She’d gone through all this trouble to make sure their sons slept, and he didn’t want to waste it.
Instead of speaking, however, he pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand in silent invitation. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she reached up and took his hand.
The same warmth—energy, electricity—he’d felt yesterday washed through him at her touch, settling in his groin in a most inconvenient way. Or possibly the most wonderful way.
He’d never undertaken a flirtation with a child nearby, much less two children, but he would brave many things for the chance to touch Athena Oliphant.
Silently, he tugged her out from under the oak tree, nearer to the river.
Once he was satisfied they were sufficiently hidden from the lads, he settled his hands on her hips.
She was surprised again, he could tell, by the intimacy of his touch. But if he had his way, she’d be experiencing his touch much more frequently.
“Athena, I must ask you something.”
Her fingers brushed against his shirt, exposed by his open waistcoat. None of them had dressed for swimming today, but they were still equally informal.
“Ye can ask,” she murmured in agreement.
Be my mistress.
But now that he had the opportunity, his words floundered. How could he ask something so intimate, so potentially life changing, without being certain what her answer would be?
“May I kiss you?”
It wasn’t until he saw the heat pool in her hazel green eyes that he’d realized he’d asked the question out loud, and winced at his awkwardness. He sounded like a schoolboy, infatuated with his first woman.
“I appreciate ye asking permission, Cash.”
The gentle way she said it made him wonder if there’d been men who hadn’t asked.
He swallowed. “And?”
“And I think I would prefer—if ye dinnae mind—if I kissed ye. I have been rather proud of my restraint thus far, to tell the truth.”
He stopped breathing. That was the only explanation for why his lungs suddenly felt too tight, and it felt as if he were floating above his own body. He watched, somewhat in a daze, as she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks, before pulling him down toward her.
When she brushed her lips across his, her eyelids fluttered closed as if she were experiencing ecstasy, and he damn near moaned out loud.
But then she kissed him again, and his breath whooshed out of him, and he sucked in another breath so quickly, he almost went light-headed.
But he quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.
When her breasts crushed against his chest, she made the most enticing little mewling sound of want, and the knowledge went right to his cock.
She kissed like a woman who knew what she wanted—a woman who knew what he wanted. No shrinking violet was she; Athena’s lips and tongue kept pace with his until they were both gasping with need.
Cash couldn’t ever recall a kiss such as this one; a kiss which took him to a state of arousal so quickly he became dizzy. Or perhaps it was from the way all the blood in his body had dropped to his penis.
Yes, that’s likely it.
Dear Lord in Heaven, but Athena could kiss! He knew he’d be hard-pressed to contain his desire for her, hard-pressed not to lay her right down on the riverbank and open her blouse and tease her nipples—would they be as pink as he imagined?—and taste her skin.
But he couldn’t. Not with their sons—their innocent, trusting sons—so close by. Only the knowledge of Callan and Matthew, sleeping peacefully on the blanket, helped Cash maintain some semblance of control.
It was difficult, but he managed to force himself to release her, to ease his hold on her. His only consolation was, when he pressed his forehead to hers in an effort to steady his heartbeat, her breathing was just as labored as his.
It seemed to him speaking would mar the moment, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the way his palms pressed against her warm back, and the way her fingers caressed the side of his neck, and the way he could still taste her sweetness on his tongue.
“Tomorrow?” he finally murmured.
She straightened, then peered up at him. Slowly, her lips—swollen and well-loved—curled into a smile.
“Tomorrow,” she agreed.