"Please," Ryan whispered. ''Touch my b.r.e.a.s.t.s."

Allie tugged on Ryan's nipples to the tempo of her pistoning hips.

Ryan's thighs went rigid and she arched from the bed. "f.u.c.k my c.o.c.k, Allie. f.u.c.k it."

"Yes, yes," Allie chanted, sliding almost all the way off the thick length before plunging back down, one long stroke after another. "Yes yes yes."

Ryan thrust to meet her. Faster, harder, deeper-"I'm going to Come!"

Allie's eyes snapped open. ''You are not!"

"Please, please," Ryan gasped, head thrashing as she struggled to free her wrists. "Allie, please...oh please...I need to co-"

"Ryan," Allie shouted, pulling Ryan's head back by her hair. "You will not come before I do."

Ryan's eyes were glazed, her mouth soft and vulnerable. "Yes, Allie."

Allie's c.u.n.t spasmed and clamped down on the c.o.c.k. Her c.l.i.t turned to stone. "Ohh, here I come." She brushed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s over Ryan's face and shuddered, bearing down, forcing the c.o.c.k into the base of Ryan's c.l.i.t. "Come with me."

"Thank you, Allie," Ryan gasped, her mouth against Allie's breast.

Allie came twice as Ryan plunged into her, coming long and hard with broken shouts of pent-up pleasure. When Allie's muscles were too weak to hold her up any longer, she fell onto her side. Ryan's c.o.c.k slipped out. ''Unh, miss you already." She released Ryan's wrists, then dragged her hand down Ryan's hip and grasped the shaft, tugging it until Ryan twitched and groaned. "Nice."

"Thank you."

Allie opened one eye. "How did you know I'd want it?"

Ryan grinned. "Didn't. Just wanted to be prepared."

"Good idea." Allie sighed contentedly and skimmed her fingers over Ryan's mouth. "Mine for the night, you said?"

"As long as you desire. Mistress."

"I can see you still need instruction." Allie kissed her. 'This time, try to do as you're told."

Ryan laughed. "Yes, Allie."

MAKING IT EASY.

SASKIA WALKER.

ometimes it's hard to say h.e.l.lo. Saying "I want you" can be harder still.

S I want you. The words were drumming in my head and in my heart, louder, louder, daring me to blurt them out. But how would she react? My body was on fire with need to see her, to touch her, to taste her-but my stomach was balled with anxiety. Chill, I told myself.

Chill.

Chrissie was so self-a.s.sured, so knowing, and I was a bundle of nerves. The last thing I wanted to do was stutter and stumble my way through a conversation, when what I really wanted to do was to tell her how I felt, to ask her if she was interested in more. d.a.m.n it.

I sighed, rested back in my seat, and eyed the road ahead. The creak of the shelves behind me had become familiar now and I didn't need to look back through the hatch to rea.s.sure myself the books were safe. They were captured in angled metal shelves, the mobile library taking on the road like a loaded barge, st.u.r.dy and resolute.

The rolling landscape of the Yorkshire moors filled my vision. The road was a gray ribbon unfurling across the expanse of fields, the English countryside made up of patches of green, marked out by old stone walls. A line of cottages rose up to break the horizon, signaling the village of Etherington. We'd be there inside five minutes. Tension beaded up my spine. I'd waited impatiently to see her again, to be here and to absorb the smile that fueled my imagination so vividly. At night, I twisted in my sheets, thinking about her, wet with longing to lose myself in her arms.

She'd known as soon as she caught sight of me standing there in her shop, gawky and mesmerized by her smile. She'd known and she'd responded. Gently, soft and all woman. I wanted her from the first instant, and what had been a gem of desire that I had nurtured and treasured had now become a nagging need to confide and take action.

I'd first met Chrissie when I went into the small village shop to pick up a chocolate bar and a newspaper at the end of my first week in the new job. It was also the first time we had pulled into Etherington.

Brian, my senior, announced we took lunch there and that meant he visited an old pal for an hour. When I glanced round and asked what there was for me to do, be nodded over at the post office sign.

"Village shop, post office too. Get yourself some lunch. I'll meet you back here in an hour." He hauled the brake on, drawing the mobile library to a halt in the bus lay-by.

"Isn't it illegal to park here?"

"It's a peaceful place. The buses only come by every other hour, we'll be fine."

"Do we have any customers here?" I nodded back at our store of books, the stock that kept the isolated villagers supplied with reading material.

''Three. Ida has a large-print romance. I've got three new ones for her to choose from. Bill likes something on bird watching, and he won't remember if he's read the book before. Jonathan will read anything on politics or health, but be prepared for a lecture on the state of the world when we hand it over." He glanced at the clock on the dash. "No need to think about that until one thirty, though. Union rules." He winked and opened his door. ''There's a pretty bench overlooking the churchyard.

P'raps get yourself some food to fatten you up and head over there."

With those words of sage advice he climbed out of the cab and disappeared.

"Fine. Whatever," I murmured to myself. Brian was okay, a likeable person, even if he had a.s.sumed a rather fatherly role in my life.

We'd established a reasonable working relationship in the week since I'd started on the mobile library run, and he'd even promised I could drive the wagon on occasion. "In time," he'd added, "when you've discovered your confidence."

Fine. I rolled my eyes but couldn't argue. His teasing about my scrawny figure was beginning to wear thin, though. He was a stickler for rules too, so we couldn't work through lunch even if there was nothing else to do. I'd climbed down and locked up, pacing over to the post office and village shop with grim determination.

As soon as I walked in the door and the chimes overhead announced my presence, Chrissie had turned toward me. The whole world and all its irritations fell away.

She had a wide smile and s.h.a.ggy wheat-colored hair. Her green eyes seemed to tease me, sending naughty messages as they twinkled my way. A black cobwebby garment over a jade T-shirt drew my attention to her outline. Full. Lovely. Her jeans were as worn as mine. She looked as if she wrote poetry, but I would later find it was sketching that gave that creative edge to her character.

"h.e.l.lo there, you're a new face."

I would learn soon enough how direct she could be.

"Are you out walking on the moors?"

''No, I"-I gave up pretending to choose chocolate and gestured outside onto the road, awkwardly-"I'm the new a.s.sistant on the mobile library."

"Oh, right." She put out her hand. "In that case, welcome."

I took her hand. ''Thanks.''

She squeezed me, slowly. "Some of the villagers couldn't manage without the service."

"So I gather, and that's good news for us." I felt a loss when she took her hand away. "Do you take any books yourself?" I was hoping I could deliver some for her.

She shook her head, smiling, "No, I go up to town once a week or so and stop by the main library then, but you never know, you could convert me."

I grinned. "Just let me know what you like, I'll make sure we stock some."

We talked, for an age. I didn't notice the time flash past. A couple of people stopped by for goods or for the post office service, and she managed to serve them un.o.btrusively, never breaking away from our chat.

"Have you always lived out here?" I asked, when the last person left.

She looked at me with searching eyes. "No, it's about three years now. I split with my partner, and when she'd gone my life in the city felt wrong, I used to come out here to walk on the moors and take photos for sketching. When I saw this place going onto the market, I made it my fresh start,"

A fresh start. She felt like my fresh start. If I could make it happen.

Four weeks on from our first meeting. Just that one hour spent together, once a week, and I'd fallen for the postmistress at Etherington. I had to let her know.

Brian clicked his fingers in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry. Miles away."

"So I see." He hauled the van into the bus lay-by. "I said Fred's away from home, so I suggest we deliver the books, then get off to Skipton and have a hot lunch there."

"Oh. Sure." d.a.m.n. I'd been living for this moment. I had to see her. But Brian was the boss. "I've brought a letter to post, I'll just pop over." I gestured at the shop. Brian nodded as he got out of the cab.

She was on her stepladder, stocking the high shelves, her long trailing skirt swishing around her shins.

"I can't stay," I blurted when the door shut behind me. The door chimes seemed to echo sadly around me. I stood with my back to the door.

"Fred's away, isn't he?" Chrissie smiled, stepping down and turning toward me.

I melted inside, then nodded, peeling myself away from the door.

"I just came by to..." What? What could I say?

She watched me move, her gaze touching me. Everywhere. "I'll miss our chat, Joanne." She did it again, she made it easy.

"Me too." Relief hit me. She knew.

"In that case, why don't you come over this evening? After hours."

I stared at her, taking in the teasing look in her eyes. Had I imagined it? "Really?"

"Why not?" She rested one hand on her hip, green eyes twinkling.

My thighs clenched, desire pumping hard in my veins. Try as I might, I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. ''I'd love to."

"Come over about eight, I'll open some wine."

"I will, thanks." When I walked back to join Brian, I might as well have been walking on air.

Her mouth on mine, opening me up. Shock hit me, then it melted away, leaving me boneless, speechless. She turned away and lifted our winegla.s.ses, nudging mine into my hand. I drank deeply, focusing on the glowing embers of the fire in the grate.

She reached over and brushed my hair flat. "We both knew it was going to happen, Joanne."

My hair bounced up under her hand, as awkward and p.r.i.c.kly as I was. "Yes. Sorry, I'm not very experienced. I want this so much but I just look at you and I lose it."

"What's your body telling you?" Her glance was teasing, but only in a good way. She knew already.

I smiled. "It's telling me all the right things, you know that."

"Yes, I do. And mine is the same. "She took my fingers to her nipples, nut-hard through her sweater.

I bit my lip, my hand shaking as it rested over her full breast with its knotted peak.

"All you have to do is stop thinking about it," she breathed. "Trust your body, let it run free. It will guide you."

I lifted my gaze from her shirt, where her breast burned an imprint on my palm, making me want to stain it with my mouth-if I was brave enough. "Easy to say-"

"Yes," she interrupted. She lifted my hand from her breast and kissed it in the palm, sending my nerve endings crazy. "But I can show you a way to make it easy to do, as well."

A disbelieving laugh escaped me, but my fingers were clutching at hers, hopefully.

Her gaze locked mine. "Will you trust me to show you how?"

I about managed to nod.

She stood up and took me by the hand, leading me out of the sitting room and up the stairs to her bedroom. My heart thudded loud as I looked at the bed, so inviting with its colorful patchwork quilt and plump pillows. Here we were, at the heart of the matter.

Chrissie flicked on the bedside lamp and then walked back to where I stood in the doorway. She switched the overhead light off.

"Don't worry, love." She ran her fingers against my cheek. I turned my face into her palm, kissing it gratefully. She smelt of musk, of woman, of desire.

She took my bands and stepped backward, step by step easing me into the s.p.a.ce, closing the door behind us. She kissed me, holding my face in her hands as her mouth opened me up.

I moaned, gasped against her mouth, trembling with need.

She drew back, giving a throaty chuckle. "You're like a nervous little bird about to take its first flight, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Close your eyes."

I did so, immediately putting myself in her hands. Entirely.

She moved away and I felt loss. I heard her opening a drawer, then returning. "Don't peek."

Fabric touched my face. It shimmied into place over my eyes. A blindfold. My fingers automatically went to it, curious. It felt light, silky, like a scarf. She tied it in place and then began to unb.u.t.ton my shirt.

"We need to teach you to trust your body more, to respond to your desires and be confident in pursuing them." Her voice was like an aural caress, soothing and arousing all at once. She pushed the shirt back over my shoulders, exposing my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "By depriving you of your sight, it will force you to focus on your other senses." As the shirt fell away, her fingers traced the outline of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, tantalizingly, making me reach after they'd moved on.