Was it because he’d become weary of sameness; had he become tired of pretty blondes and simpering agreement? Was he looking for willfulness and contention with his sex?

Not that introspection mattered at the moment; the lady was beginning to softly moan into his mouth. Nor was undue speculation of import when she made him feel as though he might actually experience the much touted nirvana in her arms. Quickly lifting her onto his lap as though testing the possibilities, he calmed her brief outcry as his rigid erection pressed into her soft bottom, whispering against her mouth, “Hush, hush, no one can see us. You’re safe…” This wasn’t the first time he’d been parked outside some lady’s house, playing at love. His driver knew how to deal with interlopers.

The lady’s protests almost immediately ceased, replaced by piquant little whimpers that gave him reason to believe she was susceptible to the same passions as he. As she slipped her arms around his neck, laced her fingers through his dark ruffled curls and kissed him back-not like some novice missish girl but like a passionate woman-he knew she’d soon be his. As though in agreement, his cock swelled sizeably.

Even while her voice of reason cried out-RESIST, RESIST-the increasing immensity of his erection sent an intoxicating shiver up her spine.

She chastised herself for yielding to such lurid sensations.

He was taking shocking liberties.

She shouldn’t permit it; she shouldn’t be kissing him. She should not surrender to the hedonistic rapture inundating her senses.

And yet she felt so alive again, like she once had-loved, desired, indulged, bewitched-tantalized.

The sound of laughter from passersby suddenly rang through the night.

Effectively shattering her halcyon dream.

“Stop!” she whispered. And then louder. “Ormond, NO!” Shamed, filled with guilt, she drew on every reserve of moral strength she possessed and shoved hard against Ormond’s chest. “Let me go!”