Tap, tap, tap. Rylands stood stiffly by the door, watching her from under his bushy gray eyebrows. “We are embarking on a simple sketching party, aren’t we, Rylands?” she asked, turning to him. “I did hear correctly, didn’t I?” “Yes, miss. I believe...
The same was true of a spectacular kiss, or an especially lovely pair of breasts, or a captivating scent. A man couldn’t un-kiss a woman, or un-touch her breasts, or un-inhale her scent. Once he’d tasted, touched, and inhaled, the horse was well and truly out of the barn. No use slamming the door...