We close out our small talk with the friends present and head back to the house. You know what I want and you want it too, holding you around your wa...st as you walk down the steps and we holler goodbyes over our shoulders. I slide my hand down your pants as we do, brushing your wet warmth before you chidingly slap me away. The walk is a little cold, but my hands keep you warm as they explore playfully, touches upon touches as I keep you wanting. I steal kisses every chance I get and as you try. Aileen had no time, or information, to answer to that because the newcomers neared them.“Father, Aileen,” Sam greeted. Unlike Taran, who wore his usual red and black tartan, Sam looked utterly elegant in breeches, dark coat and cravat over a white shirt. The English style suited him, she must admit. “Let me introduce you to Mrs Harriet Stratham.”Aileen remembered him talking about her—a lot—since the first time he had visited from Oxford. A widow who held a position as a governess for one of. More

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