“A new companion,” Ralph finished with a wink that only Jeremy could see. “So, where is she? Are you going to introduce her?”
“Not here,” Jeremy said hurriedly.
But Ralph had spied the dresses and a pair of shoes on a stool beside the curtain, where Harriet had placed them before stepping into the curtained area. He glanced at Jeremy with a knowing smile before nodding towards the drapes.
“She is rather shy,” Jeremy quickly put in, stepping back against the curtains.
Harriet was now massaging his buttocks, squeezing and sometimes pinching. He fought the instinct of his body to flinch and tense with each new teasing touch.
“Say no more! Our friend Penhaligon is seeing someone he should not be,” Ralph crowed, “wait until the others hear this. But we have business that must be attended to, so I will leave you to your secret, eh?”
Ralph grinned, and Jeremy returned the smile sheepishly. The two newcomers left the room, closing the door behind them. Jeremy breathed a long sigh of relief and then whirled to face the curtain, tearing it open.
Harriet was dressed in one of the gowns she had taken in. It glittered with gold and silver thread woven richly across a dress of cream. It clung to her, accentuating every curve and revealing new lines that Jeremy had not noticed before. It left her arms and chest bare. Revealing the tops of her bosoms.
She stood coyishly before him, a small smile on her face, arms by her sides. Her chest heaved, and her breasts presented themselves to his eyes with each deep inhalation.
Jeremy stepped forward, forgetting who was in the other room. He drew the curtains closed behind him.
“Is this seduction?” Harriet asked innocently.
“It is, but I am unsure who is the seducer. I had expected it would be me.”
“It seems you have the practice and the experience,” she affirmed, placing one hand delicately on Jeremy's chest.
“We are playing a dangerous game. I don't think Ralph would look behind the curtain. Nash certainly would, and Reuben too. But then I have never known Ralph to abandon business for a woman, and yet... here he is.”
“I don't want to talk about my brother,” Harriet told him, “perhaps it is the dress or my recent brush with death, but I feel quite...”
“Wanton?” Jeremy offered.
“Reckless,” she whispered back.
She rose onto her tiptoes, lips reaching for his. Jeremy held himself away from her, moving just enough that she had to reach afresh to bring her lips close. Then he dropped to his knees before her. He caught her hands, kissed the centers of her palms, then each finger in turn, guiding them over his face and into his hair. His mouth found her midriff, lips roving over the thin fabric, searching out the heat of her body beneath.
She tightened her grip and pressed his face against her body, sighing in pleasure. When he glanced up, she stood with eyes closed, head tipped back in abandon. The sight made him grin.
Such pleasure from such a simple act. He was glad she was not seasoned. There was a great satisfaction in giving pleasure that had never been experienced before.
He grazed his head down to her thigh, breathing in deeply and opening and closing his mouth. Tasting and feeling, wetting the fabric with his tongue. He descended to her stockinged feet, kissing them.
“Is this seduction or worship?” Harriet whispered in a voice so low that it was almost indistinguishable from the soft susurration of breath.
“There is no difference. Not if it is done right,” he rumbled.
“Which?”
“Either.”
She laughed softly. “Tell that to the Winchesters.”
The laugh became a strangled, outraged gasp as Jeremy's fingertips ascended her legs beneath her skirts. He looked into her eyes as he felt for the silken band of her stocking and began to peel it down. She made a frantic grab for it to cease its removal, but he slapped her hands away, rolling the stocking down until it was slipping from her foot.
Jeremy caught her bare foot in his hand and pressed his mouth reverently to the delicate arch, then her ankle. Then her calf, tracing a path up the curving muscle, lifting her leg as he did. He licked the inside of her thigh, his head now hidden beneath her dress. Harriet clamped her thighs together and pressed the dress down over her womanhood.
Jeremy simply licked the line formed by her two thighs squeezed together, following it upward until he had reached the dark thatch of hair that concealed her inner sanctum.
Strangled gasps and squeaks were stealing from Harriet, and she was clutching at his head through the dress more than she was trying to hold in place her makeshift modesty cover. Reaching up under her skirts, Jeremy cupped her wonderfully round and pert buttocks as he introduced his tongue to her womanhood.
