Cadence of My Heart (8 page)

The rest of the day is filled with stolen smooches, inside the house and out. First, they change into riding clothes and head back to the south field, kissing beneath the tree. Long, drawn out kisses, with plenty of snuggles to boot. Then, Cadence urges Marlee out of her restrictive nanny’s clothing and into casual wear—jeans, and a white camisole with a loose summer shirt buttoned over it—and they play kiss chase in the house, keeping to areas where access by the rest of the domestic staff is limited.

They’d never be able to do this if the Ashlocks were home. They simply wouldn’t dare.

By the time evening falls, Marlee is starting to feel a lot less guilty about her blossoming feelings for Cadence. It’s only kissing, after all. Where’s the harm?

Exhausted, completely worn out by much younger and much more athletic Cadence, she collapses on the sofa in the games room.

“I can’t run anymore,” she flatly declares. “You win.”

“Are you saying you can’t keep up with me?” Cadence teases, resting on top of her. “Am I too much for you?”

“God, yes.” Marlee wraps her arms around the enthusiastic teen. “You’re much too much for me, darling. For the sake of my health, I should probably swear off you, like I have wine and chocolate. Both of those things get me into trouble, just like you do.”

“Fine. I’ll leave, then,” Cadence bluffs, making a weak effort to get off the sofa.

Determined not to let her go, a playful Marlee grabs at her waist and hips, holding her back, which is all fun and games until one of her hands ends up pressed completely over one of Cadence’s breasts. Upon feeling the delightful, mound beneath her palm, she withdraws.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay.” Cadence wriggles closer, lying with her back against Marlee’s chest. “You can touch me there. I want you to.”

Marlee tries to make time stop. When did this happen? When did Cadence become such a sexual being? Since when has she longed to be touched?

She strokes Cadence’s waist and ribs, not daring to move her hands any higher. Glancing down, she can see Cadence’s breasts outlined in her t-shirt, bulging out from her chest, stretching the fabric tight. They’re modestly-sized, but the t-shirt is old and not fitted to accommodate her changing body.

She finds herself wondering what Cadence’s nipples feel like. Are they big? Small? She imagines them delicate and pink, the surrounding areolae sensitive, and swollen with the need to be touched, kissed, sucked.

Her own breasts start to react, her nipples visibly erect. Thank god Cadence can’t see. Moreover, thank god female arousal is easier to conceal than a man’s! She can only imagine how difficult it would be to lie here with Cadence sprawled all over her, an erection throbbing in her crotch. Cadence would be able to see it, feel it, and touch it if she wanted to. Her attraction would be prominent and undeniable. As it is instead, at least she can pretend she’s not so affected, not so wet, and not so damn horny.

Unfortunately, being able to hide her excitement does nothing to lessen it, and Cadence isn’t about to let her off the hook just because there’s no tangible proof of her arousal.

“Are you afraid again?” she asks, wondering why she’s yet to feel Marlee’s soft hands exploring her aching chest.

“I’m fucking petrified,” Marlee answers without really thinking, quickly wondering if that’s the first time Cadence has ever heard her curse like that.

If it is, she doesn’t comment on it.

“Here.” She takes Marlee’s hands and places them on her chest. “Touch.”

Marlee bites her tongue, suppressing a moan; Cadence is so caressable.

“Oh, Cady,” she purrs, cupping two perfectly developed breasts. “What’re you doing to me?”

Weak with lust, she fondles Cadence through the layers of clothing, finding a pair of tiny nipples, feeling them stiffen in response to her touch.

The pleasure is twofold. Firstly, there’s the simple sexual thrill of touching her—the same thrill she would get from touching any woman. Secondly, there’s the undeniable exhilaration of possibly being the first one—the
only
one—to experience this with her.

But what is this leading to? Sex with Cadence? Unthinkable! With that terrifying thought in mind, despite Cadence writhing around on her like a little worm, basking in all the new sensations that are rippling through her body, Marlee puts an end to it.

“I have to stop, darling.” She slides her hands back down to Cadence’s waist.

“Why?”

“The feelings you evoke in me are too intense.” She kisses the side of Cadence’s head several times in quick succession, tempted to press lips to neck, but resisting. “If we keep going like this, I dread to think what you might have me doing next. At some point, I have to be the adult. I can’t let this keep escalating. It’s sheer madness.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Marlee puts a hand over Cadence’s mouth, silencing her. “It’s way past your bedtime, and we’ve got lots to do tomorrow, so I want you up early.”

She wriggles out from behind Cadence, then heaves her up off the sofa, holding hands with her all the way back to the bedroom. She’ll have to get up extra early to go through all the rooms they fooled around in, making sure there’s nothing suspicious or out of place.

A dropped earring. A lost button. A tube of lipstick. Bare footprints on the walls. All this worry just for a few kisses. Is it really worth it?

While Cadence is brushing her teeth in the bathroom, Marlee sits on the teen’s bed, reflecting on that question, chewing over the day’s activities. Before and after every kiss, she suffers a slight panic, reminding herself that it’s wrong—so damn wrong. She feels it now, too, just waiting for Cadence to emerge, but she knows it won’t last. She expects it to dissolve the instant their lips touch to kiss goodnight, but in reality, it dissolves as soon as Cadence steps out of the bathroom wearing that black lacy underwear.

“Oh, shit.” She’s totally unprepared for sexy Cadence. Where did the fuzzy guinea pig pajamas go?

Watching Cadence approach the bed, her heart thrums, loving and loathing how easily this young teen can disarm her, and she finds herself craving intimacy.

Intimacy she can’t have.

In theory, she could always fall back into her casual arrangement with Rachel. But after the way Cadence reacted earlier, she dare not risk getting caught in bed with her again. Not only because she doesn’t want to hurt Cadence, but because, well, even the mere thought of sharing intimacy with Rachel now somehow feels wrong. Like cheating.

Tired of being the voice of reason—or trying to be—and entranced by the beautiful young woman standing in front of her, she relinquishes all control as Cadence tilts her head up and kisses her, pushing her gently back onto the bed. It feels good to let go as Cadence—a girl who, under any other circumstance, would be perfectly free to be intimate with her in any and every way—straddles her thighs and leans over her for another kiss.

“You’re so sexy, honey,” Marlee manages to get out between lip-locks. “I want you so much.”

As they kiss, she rubs Cadence’s bare back, feeling the curve of her spine, her slender hips, and the rise of her buttocks. Without thinking, she slips her hands over Cadence’s ass, enjoying how firm she is.

“Is it all right if I touch you like this?” she thinks to ask after the fact.

“Uh-huh.” Cadence nods, thrilled and excited that Marlee wants to do more than just kiss her. “I like it.”

They keep kissing, and Marlee can’t resist edging her fingertips beneath the lace—she wants to feel bare ass. At that moment, Cadence does something remarkable: she starts to move. She starts to rock her hips back and forth, grinding herself against Marlee’s pelvis.

Marlee moans into Cadence’s mouth. Cadence is so inexperienced that she probably doesn’t fully understand what she’s doing, but Marlee certainly does: she’s pleasuring herself. She’s clamping down, rubbing her clit against Marlee’s body. Will she make herself come? Has she ever had an orgasm? They’ve never spoken about it.

“Damn,” Marlee mumbles quietly, finding the sensation of having young Cadence humping her more arousing than anything else she’s ever experienced.

Cadence stops. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, god, no!” Marlee slips her hands completely beneath the lace knickers, groping Cadence’s bum, urging her to continue. “You surprise me in the best ways. You’re wonderful.”

“I want you to spend the whole night in my bed.” Cadence grabs Marlee’s hands, moving them from her rear to her lace covered breasts, trying to tempt her. “Will you? My parents aren’t home.”

“I wish I could, sweetheart.” Marlee massages Cadence’s chest. “You have no idea how much I want to, but I can’t. Not tonight. Not now.”

That’s a lie. In all honesty, she very well could spend the whole night in Cadence’s bed, were it not for one small, nagging problem: she needs to come. Her knickers are soaked through—she can feel it. She’s been seeping with desire for most of the day—quite abundantly since lying on the games room sofa with Cadence—and she
needs
release.

She also needs Cadence to keep humping her, but that doesn’t happen. Much to her disappointment—although she’d never let on—Cadence doesn’t resume her gyrations. Instead, she rolls off and sprawls on the bed.

“Can we sleep together every night when we’re on vacation?”

When Cadence says sleep, she really means sleep, but Marlee’s body surges with uncontrollable arousal nonetheless.

“Maybe. We’ll have to see how it goes.” She remains outwardly calm.

This will be the first vacation they’ve ever taken alone.

Four days, three nights.

Alone.

Damn.

It takes about three hours to get to Lymington in the Ashlocks’ chauffeur driven car, but they stop off at New Forest National Park in Hampshire on the way. Marlee says she fancies a picnic, but what she really fancies is Cadence. They eat sandwiches, indulge in some truffles that Marlee swiped from the cook’s secret stash before they left Neverleigh, then make the chauffeur wait in the car while they take a slow stroll through the forest, hand in hand.

Whenever they find themselves in a secluded area—which they do often, entirely by design rather than luck—they lose themselves in kisses. Such tender kisses. Tender, grownup kisses with invading tongues and squeals of delight, followed by declarations of love and attraction.

This cherished time alone makes it exceedingly difficult for them both to get back in the car and revert to portraying their increasingly complicated relationship as being purely platonic. The façade of propriety is so easily shattered by an inadvertently loving gaze, an affectionate smile, or a wandering eye, followed by snickering and lower lip biting.

Her heart so full of love and passion, Marlee looks wistfully out of the window, watching the countryside roll by. Cadence’s kisses are so, so perfect. Being intimate with her feels so natural, which is frightening and overwhelming, but extraordinarily exciting.

All she has to do is wait, she keeps telling herself. Kiss her, hold her, love her, and wait for her, her virginity the reward for their patience. But what about the Ashlocks and the debutante parties? Cadence could be wedded before they’re ever in a position to act on their feelings, and the thought of having to stand by and watch her be married off against her will is becoming progressively more unbearable. She can only imagine what Cadence must be going through.

Mmm, Cadence.

It’s not long into the second leg of the drive before she feels a warm hand brush against her knee and settle there. Should she move it away? She doesn’t want to start a fuss over anything in front of the chauffeur. Sharing a restrained smile with Cadence, she opts to leave it there.

Cadence is growing bold, though. Not a minute later, she begins tugging on Marlee’s skirt, pulling it up inch by inch until she gets the hem up over her knee.

Can the chauffeur see? Marlee glances up, checking his mirrors, wondering how far his line of sight extends. Probably not to their laps, she surmises. Still, why take any unnecessary risks? She angles her body toward Cadence and pats the space between them, inviting her to sit closer. It’s not unusual for Cadence to be seen cuddling up to her nanny, and if they can tuck behind the driver’s seat, there’s a better chance they won’t be caught touching inappropriately.

Reading her mind, Cadence shuffles closer and lets Marlee put an arm around her, drawing her into a hug, kissing the side of her head. When they’re close, concealed behind the seat in front, Cadence puts her hand back on Marlee’s knee.

Marlee can’t help but notice that she’s wearing the same t-shirt as yesterday: the one stretched tight across her chest. Those perky breasts are on display, and … Marlee has to look twice to be certain. Cadence isn’t wearing a bra! How had she not noticed that before? Her jacket must’ve been zipped up in the park.

Just knowing that her breasts are naked beneath the shirt has Marlee reaching a new level of fervor, consumed by an intense yearning to touch them again—and she can’t wait. They’re still twenty minutes away from Lymington, and she’s desperate to cop a subtle feel. Under the guise of straightening Cadence’s jacket, she grabs the lapel between her fingers and angles her thumb against one of Cadence’s breasts, rubbing up and down. It might not be the most sophisticated act of fondling ever, but it’s enough to elicit a response from the teen’s nipple, which swells to a firm pebble in a matter of seconds.

Cadence snuggles tighter, starting to move her hand up Marlee’s leg. As before, when she gets to the top of the stocking, Marlee prevents her from going any further. She reaches down and holds Cadence’s hand, weaving their fingers together. Instead of pulling her away, though, she simply controls the direction of her exploration. Kneading Cadence’s hand firmly up and down, she even goes so far as to uncross her legs and let Cadence’s fingertips touch the bare skin of her inner thigh—albeit fleetingly.

This goes on for several minutes, and by the time they arrive at the Lymington bed and breakfast, neither one of them has much interest in exploring the picturesque seafront village.

Cadence’s parents have reduced the booking to one family room containing a queen-size bed and a single, and it’s delightfully quaint. The four-poster queen bed takes up most of it, with the little single pushed off to the side. At the far end, there’s a dresser that doubles as a table for a kettle and a selection of complimentary teas and instant coffee, a little stack of cups beside them. Pictures of fishing boats and ornamental ship wheels adorn the walls—typical seaside décor. The en suite bathroom has a shower and soaker tub, almost every surface decorated with seashells and starfishes. All in all, it’s cute.

Marlee opens the bedroom window, letting a warm gust of sea breeze into the room. Ahh, smells like childhood. It’s comfortingly familiar, but so distant.

“I’m sorry your parents couldn’t be here, darling.” She takes in a lungful of salty air, reflecting on her own happy memories of a loving mother and father.

Cadence snorts, starting to unpack. “I’m not. This is perfect. It’s so much better now they won’t be anywhere near when we … you know.”

Marlee doesn’t know. “When we what?”

“Have sex for the first time.”

Those words rolls off her tongue far too nonchalantly for Marlee’s liking.

“Have sex?” She could swear her heart just seized up. “Who said anything about us having sex? What makes you think we’re … ?”

“Oh.” The smile drops from Cadence’s lips, unable to hide her disappointment. “I thought you’d be ready. Aren’t you ready?”

Marlee can’t help it: she bursts out laughing at the ridiculousness of the question, and of their current predicament. Her sixteen-year-old would-be lover is asking
her
if she’s ready for sex! Unfortunately, Cadence takes the spontaneous fit of laughter far too personally, and ends up locking herself in the bathroom for twenty minutes.

Apologetic, Marlee sits on the carpeted floor outside the en suite, trying to persuade her to come out. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Cady.”

“Yes, you were!” Muffled.

“No, I was laughing at the situation.”

“What’s so funny about me wanting to have sex with you?” Less muffled—she must’ve moved closer to the door.

Hearing Cadence say those words makes Marlee’s heart flutter, her knickers dampening uncontrollably. Cadence really wants to have sex with her! That’s so … daunting, and she takes a moment to let it all sink in. Is this why Cadence doesn’t date? Or ask about boys? Does she already have her heart set on her nanny?

“Think about it from my perspective,” Marlee says at last. “My painfully young, virginal girlfriend just asked
me
if I was ready to put out. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Click.

The door unlocks, creaks open a little, and Cadence crawls out.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, hardly daring to hope that she heard Marlee correctly.

“Isn’t that what you are?” Marlee gives up trying to pretend that this is anything other than an illicit love affair, especially since they’ve already committed so many indiscretions. “Isn’t that what you want to be?”

“Does that mean we’ll have sex?” Cadence crawls closer. “I don’t care what the law says. I
am
old enough, and you do want to have me that way, don’t you?”

How can Marlee possibly answer that? Admitting any of this out loud makes her feel like a degenerate sexual deviant. She can’t bring herself to tell Cadence how she gets wet every time they kiss, or that last night she gave herself the most wonderful orgasm while fantasizing about the two of them being together. She just can’t. All she can manage to say is:

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Because you’re afraid,” Cadence very rightly guesses.

“Can you understand what this is like for me at all?” Marlee beckons her over, needing to have her near. “This isn’t a harmless crush; it’s a big deal.”

“I know.” Cadence breaks into a wide smile.

“Do you?” Marlee’s brow is creased with a rarely seen tension. “Because I’m terrified that I might be falling very deeply in love with you, and I don’t even know if you can—”

“I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen.” Cadence rests against her lap.

Marlee looks disbelieving. “I don’t think thirteen-year-olds are capable of being in love, sweetheart. I’m not even sure sixteen-year-olds are. I know you love me—I’d never doubt that—but it’s not the same as being
in
love with someone. The way I’ve begun to want you is very adult, and I don’t understand how you can possibly have those feelings for me.”

“Well, I do,” Cadence says defiantly. “I dream about kissing you, sleeping with you, loving you, and that includes”—her cheeks flush endearingly—“giving you pleasure.”

Marlee isn’t immediately sure how to respond. She flounders briefly before managing to ask, “You dream about that? About making love with me?”

Cadence nods. “All the time.”

“But …” Marlee struggles to process that. “We’ve never even talked about …”

Cadence rolls her eyes. “I know what sex is, Marlee. We have sex education in school. Just because my parents never wanted you to educate me, that doesn’t mean I never
got
educated. Plus, there’s television and the internet. I’ve even watched porn.” She smiles proudly. “That’s how I learned to kiss.”

Marlee’s jaw drops. “Porn?! I assumed you’d practiced on a boy!”

“Ewww.” Cadence wrinkles her nose. “Why would I want to give up my first kiss to a horrid boy? I was saving it for you.” Self-conscious about her lack of experience, she fidgets nervously with a frayed thread on the hem of her faded t-shirt. “I’ve been saving everything for you. I thought you’d like that.”

Marlee’s expression softens, her frown melting away. As her lips upturn, those shallow creases of happiness appear at the edges of her bright, glimmering eyes. Knowing now that their first kiss didn’t just mark the commencement of their unlawful romance, but also that it was Cadence’s first ever—her entrance into the adult world of intimacy—Marlee feels incredibly privileged. She doesn’t want Cadence to think, even for a second, that she’s being casual about receiving the gifts of her firsts.

“Oh, darling. I love knowing that I’m the only one.” She instigates a kiss. “It makes everything we share even more special.”

“You don’t need to be afraid, Marlee,” Cadence whispers, cuddling up to her. “I know what I want, and I know
who
I want. I always have.” Another kiss. “That’s why I waited.” One more kiss. “I only want to be with you.”

“Well, shall we start with dinner?” Marlee suggests, concerned that they might be about to get a tad sidetracked. “I think I owe you a date.”