feel the pieces fall into place.
Events are escalating, shifting, fluid, and where they will finally land is anyone’s guess.
CHAPTER TEN
Jessa
WHEN BRANDON COMES to collect me the following evening, I am waiting to answer the door.
My father mutters about unworthy whelps.
My mother wishes me a good time.
Bounding down the steps, I throw my arms around his neck, and on my tiptoes, plant a kiss upon his lips. I badly want to pet his short beard that tickles my face.
A broad smile lights his face. As his hands settle on my waist, my tummy flutters with anticipation. “That was quite a welcome,” he says, eyes lowering to my lips. “But I think I can do better.”
There is a wicked glint in his eyes as his lips lower to mine.
My heart rate quickens as we kiss. His familiar scent invades my nose as I sink into him and the kiss. A rushing heat sweeps through me as his tongue tangles with mine. Deep inside, I feel the sweet tickling sensation as my body prepares for what it wants and needs.
As his head lifts, my lashes flutter open.
“I’m not sure that was better,” I say, peeping at him through the slits of my eyes. “You might want to try it again.”
He chuckles. Taking my hand in his, he begins to walk, giving a little tug when I remain rooted to the spot.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we make our way down the lane. “To the rutting barn?”
His head whips around to face me. “The what? What the fuck, Jessa.”
I chuckle. “What do you call it then?”
This is fun, both the kissing and shocking of Brandon. Happen he will be more shocked soon when he finds out what I have done.
If he finds out what I have done.
I’m certainly hoping things will progress enough so that he will. I could barely sleep last night thinking about kissing and all things rutting. I made myself come twice, and I still wanted more. But I wanted more with Brandon and not by myself.
“It is just the old barn, and we are not going there,” he says, giving me a stern glare that only makes me grin. “But we will find a quieter spot by the river where we can talk.”
“Brandon,” I say, waiting until he glances my way. “I don’t want to talk.”
“Aye, I’m getting the idea that you are an insatiable lass.”
“I really am,” I agree. Brandon is only holding my hand and already my body thrums. Maybe tonight I will not need to make myself come.
“And bolder than I was expecting,” he continues with a smirk.
“My mother told me long ago that it is natural for a lass to have such thoughts, and that I was not to be ashamed. She also said that if I did not, that was all right too.”
“Well, your mother talks sense,” he agrees.
As we near the small path to the wood, we take the left-hand track. Part of me feels I should be aggrieved that Brandon knows these quiet places because he went there with other lasses. But I don’t. I am glad he knows where to go and how to kiss. And I’m sure he knows about the other stuff that I have yet to experience.
“She also said it was natural for a lass to kiss a lad and… and other things if she wished to and if it felt natural and right to her. As long as she wasn’t doing it because she felt pressured to please the boy.”
“Jessa,” he says softly, like it is a warning… like he might be in pain.
He comes to a stop by a giant oak tree with a view of the riverbank. It is peaceful, and the evening air, warm. He sits, tugging me down beside him.
“Brandon?” He looks a little flushed and stares at the river like he is terrified to look at me.
He glances across and groans a little when he notices my smirk. “You are going to fucking test me this evening. I can see the mischief in your eyes.”
“I do not want to sit beside you.” Rising to my knees, I nimbly slip over his lap so that I am straddling his muscular thighs, and our faces are inches apart. “I would rather sit here.”
His hands settle on my waist. Mine settle on his shoulders. Eyes lowering, he gently squeezes as if testing how it feels. “I’d rather you sit here, too.”
“I have never wanted to kiss or touch anyone,” I say. “I thought perhaps