Page 40 of Sinfully Mine
Chapter Nineteen
Hester had awokenat the first crow of King George, but so warm and comfortable she hadn’t wanted to move, let alone open her eyes. A snore sounded, reminding her she was not alone.
Flashes came to her from last night, most so erotic in nature, Hester didn’t dare dwell on them. Silently, she slid out of bed, wincing at the soreness between her thighs and tiptoed over to the basin of water sitting on the dresser. She washed and dressed in the dark, not daring to light a lamp, adamantly refusing to look at the large, naked,gloriouslybeautiful man inhabiting her bed. She wasn’t ready to face Sinclair.
Drew.
Not after last night. Perhaps never again. She could simply take up residence in the barn until further notice.Drewmight be as confused by the previous evening as Hester. It had, after all, been a moment of madness. He might be perfectly content if she lived in the barn going forward. At least until he returned to London.
London. His friends. Worth. Lady Prissypants.
Hester meant to avoid all of them. Especially Worth.
Another snore came from the bed. The sheets were down around his waist, the left side dipping lower to showcase one muscled buttock. Another flash of their naked bodies, twisted together on the bed, had Hester holding on to the doorjamb because her knees became weak.
“Milk the cows,” she whispered. “I need to milk the cows.”
*
Sometime later, Hesterfinally arrived at the barn. She’d slipped out of the house, first stopping to speak to Mrs. Ebersole, who was already cracking eggs in the kitchen, no doubt beginning preparations for the breakfast the London guests would require. The housekeeper nodded as Hester grabbed a piece of toast and fled the vicinity, not wanting to be peppered with questions about the evening. Or how she’d managed to get out of her gown without help.
Taking up a stool, she started her work, the chafing along her thighs noticeable. The scruff along Drew’s chin had scraped the delicate skin. He’d had his mouth on her, deliberately holding back her release until she—
A soft whimper left her.
Hester leaned her forehead against Tabby’s side, fingers stilling on the cow’s udders. She had never imagined, nor considered, that physical relations could be so incredibly passionate. Or so wicked.
A blush slid up her cheeks. She’d been terrified that Mrs. Ebersole would guess at what Hester had done and could barely look in the direction of Jake when he greeted her outside the barn. Poor Dobbins had been called from his usual duties to help serve breakfast, so Hester checked on the sheep. Fed the pigs and chickens. The cows.
And through all of it, Hester could think only about Drew lifting both her legs over his shoulders while he thrust inside her.
Hester squeezed too hard on one udder, making Tabby stamp one hoof in agitation.
“Sorry.”
She forced herself to think about the smaller of her potato fields, the one with the blighted plants, finally in agreement with Drew’s opinion weeks after he’d given it. She only hoped that the rest of her potatoes would survive.
If I touch you just here with my tongue, and place my finger like so, you’ll climax, Hester. Shall we try it?
Dear God.
Every filthy thing Drew had said to her last night was burned into Hester’s mind. A substantial collection of wickedness leaving little doubt that Drew was as much a gambler as a rake.
Another sigh left her, this one far more troubled.
Hester didn’t know what any of last night would mean for her future and Blackbird Heath. Or if it would mean anything at all. And while Worthington had certainly given Hester some insight into Drew Sinclair, he was still her enemy. A gambler. A rake, to be sure. Perhaps his attentions last night had been nothing more than a continuation of the seduction he’d begun the night in his study. Intoxicating her with pleasure—
Agreatdeal of pleasure—
So that Hester would lower her guard and he could coax her to leave, thus allowing him to sell the estate. She doubted Worthington would be much help. Possibly Martin Godwick had made some progress. Perhaps Bishop Franks had decided to take up Hester’s case, but she didn’t feel hopeful. A less stubborn woman would leave. Take the sum offered by Drew and move on with her life.
Hester could nearly feel her heels digging into the floor of the barn.
Her stomach rumbled, growling like a wild animal was trapped inside, reminding Hester she hadn’t eaten much at all today but a piece of toast. She hadn’t wanted to return to the house, though at some point she must venture back. Jake, if she asked, might bring her something from the kitchen. Hester could sleep in the barn tonight. The hayloft would make a comfortable bed. Drew’s London friends would depart in a few days.
“I’ve never milked a cow before, but I’m reasonably sure you must tug on those dangling things for the milk to come out.”
Hester didn’t turn from the sight of Tabby’s hide, at least not right away. She took a moment to compose herself. “I didn’t realize you knew where the barn was located, Mr. Sinclair.”
