The Debutante's Second Chance

For a moment, she trembled, and he expected her to draw away, but she didn’t. She just looked up at him in the flickering light from citronella torches and said, “Lindsey wouldn’t like this.”

Do you? Your heart’s beating as fast as mine, but I don’t know if it’s from excitement or fear. He tried to ask her the question silently, but there were no answers in her face. Only more questions.

“Didn’t you notice?” His voice sounded funny to his own ears. He was reminded of coming back to earth after a heavy make-out session at the drive-in that used to be on the edge of town. His heart was pumping like crazy and he felt flushed and warm, even though the evening had cooled.

It had been a while since he’d felt seventeen.

“She attached herself to my father,” he said, his voice still uneven. “I think she has an older man fetish.”

She chuckled, and the husky laughter weakened his legs still further. Keeping her in his arms, he lowered himself to the porch swing. “Of course,” he said, “I’m an older man, too.” He lifted her hand, setting it palm-to-palm against his, and captured her gaze. “Hopefully wiser.”

When he lowered his hand, it drifted, almost as though by accident, against the swell of her breast, and lingered there. He kept the touch light; he could scarcely feel her softness against his skin. Then he kissed her again, a leisurely blending of taste and touch and elusive scent.

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