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I squeeze and roll them gently between my fingers before angling my hands, using them to push the fabric out of the way so that I can access her bare flesh.
I pull away from her kiss, getting a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink, her eyes almost glazed with pleasure and desire, her mouth panting. Then I look down at her pert breasts, rising up from the fabric of her dress, surging for me as she breathes heavily. I lower my tongue to swirl and circle around one of her nipples, still teasing the other with my fingers, and I hear her yelp and feel her squirm, the way she wants it so badly.
And that’s when the door opens and I realize with horror, looking swiftly, that the Captain has just walked in with a bottle of spring water and a pair of glasses.
Chapter Fourteen
Candace
I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life.
I move as fast as I can to yank my dress back up over my chest, but I’m fairly sure the man who works here saw everything anyway. There would definitely be no way to mistake what we were doing – Sean was right over me, his body pressed against mine as I lay back on the sofa, my dress pulled up almost to my waist. It’s bad enough he saw what he saw – but given a few more minutes, I think he probably would have seen more.
“Captain,” Sean says, quickly. “Ah – I think we’re good for a while.”
“Certainly, sir,” the Captain says quickly, and I hear a clink as he sets down the tray he was carrying on a side table. I can’t bear to look at him. I don’t want to meet his eyes. I don’t know whether he’ll be horrified, or amused, or something worse. I don’t even know which is worse. “I’ll let the other staff know you’re not to be disturbed for… an hour, or so?”
“Until we come out,” Sean suggests.
“Yes, sir,” the Captain says firmly, and I hear the sound of the door opening and closing as he leaves.
Which allows me to groan out loud, covering my flaming face with my hands.
“Oh, god,” Sean says, but he’s laughing. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was just going to walk in without knocking like that. To tell the truth, I… got a bit carried away.”
I can’t bear to take my hands down from my face. Carried away. What does that mean? Does it mean he didn’t actually want to kiss me, or – do any of that other stuff? Is that what he’s trying to tell me now, that it meant nothing?
“Are you alright?” he asks, gently. I feel one of his hands on mine, trying to persuade me to uncover my face. “I’m sure he’s seen a lot worse if it’s any consolation. And he’s very discreet. He won’t tell anyone what he saw.”
“He still saw it,” I say, finally managing to let my hands drop. Sean doesn’t let go, however – he keeps hold of the hand he was touching, letting it slip around in his grip until he is holding it properly, like… well, like a lover.
Which gives me a tiny dash of hope back.
“He’s not coming back now,” he says, his voice low and a little husky. “Which means we can do whatever we want. No one else is going to see, now. We’re totally alone here.”
His hand slides up my leg, moving under the fabric of my dress.
It’s now or never. He does want me, which makes my heart thump almost painfully in my chest. It makes a jolt of electricity travel to the pit of my stomach and stay there, an excitement that can’t be ignored.
But it also makes me realize now that I’ve had a little more time to adjust to this situation and to think, I need to say something. Now that I’m not carried away in the moment, too, I need to be honest.
I take a deep breath. This could end everything. The last thing I want is for him to see me as a child, but telling him the truth could do just that. Even so. It’s important. I can’t keep this from him.
“Just wait, a minute,” I say, my hand landing on top of his, to stop his movement. “I need to tell you something.”
He frowns, his expression going from playful to serious. “What is it?” he asks. “Do you… regret…?”
“No!” I say, shaking my head fiercely. Regretting what just happened between us is something that is never going to happen. It was already amazing, and we didn’t even get very far. “No, and I’d love to do it again. To do more, I mean. It’s just…”
“What is it?” he prompts when I still don’t manage to finish the sentence.
