Her head fell back on his shoulder and she shuddered, her body’s movement absorbed by his.
“That’s nice,” she breathed and all admonishment was gone from her tone.
To reward her, he did it again and her response was so intense, his arm had to tighten around her waist to catch her as her legs buckled beneath her.
He nipped her ear with his teeth. “You’re not working,” he informed her helpfully.
She didn’t respond, she simply trembled and he knew she was ready for him.
As he had her exactly where wanted her, he pulled the lace back over her breast and slid his hand down and out from under the t-shirt. He removed his mouth from the sensitive area of her ear and kissed her neck chastely.
“I’ll let you get on with it.”
“Colin!” she cried and whirled, white goo flying everywhere.
He grinned at her.
“Don’t give me one of those devilish grins, get back here!” she demanded.
He walked away and heard her growl with frustration.
As he understood when he started it, he knew he’d pay for that episode later that night and he was very much looking forward to it.
Later, while he could smell one of Mags’s vegetarian feasts cooking in the kitchen, he snagged Mallory’s lead and commandeered the recalcitrant dog to take a walk. He and Mallory were passing the library when he heard feminine voices.
He glanced in while walking by and heard his mother exclaim, “Mine’s tingling.”
He stopped and stared at the three women sitting side by side on the couch, all of their faces covered in white goo, their legs stretched out before them, their heads resting on the back of the couch.
“Is it a good tingle or a bad tingle?” Sibyl asked with concern.
“Oh, a good tingle, dear.”
“Mine’s not tingling but it smells good enough to eat,” Mags put in.
“Don’t eat it, Mother,” Sibyl warned.
“I wasn’t going to eat it. I was just saying it smells good enough to eat.”
Colin decided to escape before the oncoming escalation and he walked the dog.
All the days that followed were more of the same.
Mandy was taking reporters’ phone calls by the dozens and they’d even found the number to Lacybourne and were ringing there wanting pictures and interviews of the reincarnated lovers.
The next two National Trust days were so crowded, the Trust had to arrange for timed viewings and had phoned Colin telling him that, if this persisted, they would have to do visits by booking only. They also asked if he and Sibyl wouldn’t mind being part of a new pamphlet and helping with a fundraiser. This he refused, of course, and didn’t even bother to mention to Sibyl for she would definitely not have refused and the last thing he needed was for her to be gunned down at a National Trust Ball.
Marian Byrne’s daughter had left after Marian had sufficiently recovered so, in order for Sibyl to watch over her, she became a regular guest at dinner. Colin had come home on Friday evening to catch Marian and Mags in the kitchen, leaning expectantly over a large pot that was emitting an foul odour that was (he hoped) not food while his mother sat at a stool by the counter calmly reading a woman’s magazine.
“Just experimenting with –” Mags began to explain upon his entry.
He lifted up his hand and didn’t break stride as he continued to walk through the kitchen. “I don’t want to know.”
He’d encountered Sibyl in the hall.
“Hi babe.” She brushed her lips softly against his in greeting and he vastly preferred her welcome to the dastardly trio in the kitchen. “Enchiladas tonight,” she informed him.
He was relatively certain enchiladas did not smell like what was in the kitchen and if it did, he wanted no part of it.