Her Husband's Grave by P L Kane

Author:P L Kane [Kane, P L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008372231
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-06-03T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The girl in the black dress has followed the guy outside.

There are a few streetlamps dotted about, the moon up there in the sky – it’s a clear night, hardly any clouds – and when she catches her reflection in the windows of the pub, she looks like a disembodied head and arms. It makes her laugh, and it’s a nice laugh.

A pretty laugh, just like she’s pretty.

The guy, the nice guy who wasn’t Elvis – the guy who she’d listened to, as he’d talked and talked, as she’d talked back to him, and they’d had more drinks – suggests something to her. Not going back to her place (she can’t anyway) or even his. But …

He points. There’s a side street not that far away. It’s much darker in there. Private, quiet. The perfect place for more talk and perhaps a kiss and a cuddle if they feel like it, but only if she feels like it. He’s not one of those guys. He promises her that, and she believes him. He doesn’t come across that way at all. Not like some of the other fellas she’s encountered on nights like these and wouldn’t have gone near with a bargepole.

Still, there’s a moment or two’s hesitation, but then she figures: what the hell? There are so few private places around here, and she really likes him. Could be one of those ‘you might regret it if you don’t’ moments. You always regret the things you haven’t done, right? Especially when you’re young.

So she nods, and they go – hand-in-hand – chatting, laughing. It’s all so easy, like they’ve known each other longer than they have. When they get to the alleyway, he asks her if it’s all right for him to kiss her. That’s nice, asking permission.

She nods.

And he plants his mouth on hers, soft, tender. None of this trying to jam your tongue down someone’s throat. It’s just … nice. Like he is. A nice guy, friendly.

He’s cupping her face now as he kisses her, lips moving sideways to her cheek and then down her neck, making her feel all tingly. Those familiar sensations, that warm feeling spreading throughout her. She shifts slightly, so he can kiss her lips again. So she can kiss him. More passionate, both of them getting lost in the moment.

His hands exploring, both of them on her waist – then suddenly one of them moving upwards, searching out and cupping a breast through the thin material of her dress, fingers finding a nipple and rubbing that. She gives a little moan, those sensations building.

But no, they can’t go any further. Not here. Not in some alleyway. He’s grinding against her and she can feel him, but … Not here. They can’t. So she pulls away, breathless. They should cool it a little, not get carried away. Some heavy petting, snogging, sure. But not … Not that, not here.

‘What’s … what’s the matter?’ he asks, confused.

‘Can we just … I just want to take it a little slower.

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