Page 369 of Phobia
“Such as?” he asked.
I twiddled my thumbs into the silky fabric of my robe. My shaky voice came out higher than it already was. “That the penis goes into the vagina.”
Bastien stared at me for a beat, his lids seemingly heavier than they had been moments ago. “Cock,” he corrected.
“Like a rooster?” I asked, completely confused. What did roosters have to do with human sex?
Bastien barked out a laugh. “Yeh weren’t kidding when yeh saidnot much, huh?”
There it was again. His irritating amusement at my expense. My hands balled up into tight fists. “I hate it when you laugh at me.”
His laughter ceased. Dark eyes studied my pursed lips and narrowed brows. His finger tilted my chin upward to him, and I shuddered at the contact. “I’m not laughing at yeh. I just find it unbelievable that a beautiful creature like yeh ain’t had much fun in y’er life.”
He was right. I lived with my parents and only went into town twice a week at most. Church was mandatory every Sunday, with Maman and Papa sandwiching me on either side in the pew. My life was boring. Bastien was the most exciting thing to have ever happened to me.
His thumb stroked my jaw, and my eyelids fluttered closed. His touch was exhilarating, sending little shock waves through my body. He was so close that his heady scent of smoke and liquor filled my lungs. My head felt so light, like I could fly. “Then teach me. Teach me how to have fun,” I breathed out.
His thumb stilled. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, hesitation written all over his face.
“This ain’t right, songbird.”
I offered a shy smile. “I ain’t right,” I said, mimicking his accent.
He pulled away, leaving me empty as I watched him tensely suck on his cigar. “Ask me again when y’er sober.”
Heat flushed my cheeks at his rejection. I shot to my feet, my head spinning with the sudden movement. I hated that he was using my current tipsy state against me when he was the one who’d convinced me to drink in the first place.
Without another word, I stormed off, heading straight for my house.
“Stop,” he commanded, his voice slicing through the sound of my steps on the grass. I silently cursed my feet for listening to him.
Footsteps rustled behind me. His hand turned me by the shoulder to face him. I had never realized he was so tall. The top of my head barely reached his chin, and I had to crane my neck up to look at him.
He had removed his top hat, and I could see a thick, dark mane of curly hair on his head. The style was slightly overgrown, with some tendrils reaching the tops of his ears.
He moved into my space, his hands cupping my cheeks, his fingers intertwined in my loose hair. Eyes like coal grazed my face, eventually settling on my mouth.
My lips parted, releasing a shallow breath as I waited.
The sly smile that made my heartbeat faster reappeared briefly before he lowered his face and pressed his lips to mine.
All the tension I’d been carrying melted away and my body relaxed into his touch. I had never been kissed before, and had I known it would feel like this, I would have tried it a lot sooner.
His soft, lush lips felt like pillows against mine. He angled his head to the side slightly and began to move. I didn’t know what to do next, so I just copied his motions. My lips seemed to be keeping pace enough, because Bastien didn’t stop massaging my mouth with his.
I gripped his forearms to steady myself. I was in a daze—it all felt so damn good. His lips were so juicy that I wanted to get a better taste. I sneaked the tip of my tongue along the bottom one, picking up hints of smoke, rum, and desire. He tasted like sin.
I needed more, so I opened my mouth wider and eagerly plunged my tongue into his. His wet tongue greeted me in a sensual dance. My insides were on fire.
Before I could move into his body to feel him against me, he broke the kiss, leaving me with a farewell nip on my bottom lip.
I squinted my eyes open and found him staring at me with such intensity. “Good night, little songbird. Dream of me when yeh lay y’er head down.” He walked away, recapturing his spot against the tree, overlooking the cemetery.
I did as he instructed and thought of him when I reached home and got into bed, which resulted in needing to change my nightgown twice through the night because they were so wet from his memory.
Chapter 3
“Isn’t it about time that you told your Maman that you only volunteer to go to the market so you can stop by my shop?” Madame Laurent’s voice rang out over the sound of glass vials clanking as she closed the wooden drawer they lived in.
