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wrappers Kath had sent for. But theory was one thing, practice quite another.
    His fingers were growing more adventurous since she’d done nothing to stop him and were now busily engaged in unbuttoning her blouse. Did she want him to carry on further? She felt flustered, not wanting to appear silly and naive.
    He had found her nipple, pert and hard beneath her hand stitched camisole, and she gasped with pain and pleasure as he took it between his lips. ‘Jack,’ she whimpered, half in protest, half drowning in sensation. Even as she spoke, her body arched, instinctively craving for more. Wanting him more than she could say.
    He pulled her down so that she was lying on the grass and she could sense the excitement rising in him. Something hard and pulsing was pressing against her leg. It seemed to make the pain worse.
    ‘Come on, Meg, come on,’ he murmured, then eased open her mouth with his tongue so she couldn’t have answered him anyway, even if she’d known what to say. His tongue flickered between her teeth and curled about her own, thrusting, dancing, teasing, demanding. Despite herself she was catching his excitement, felt it run through her like liquid fire. She thrilled to his kisses, revelled in new sensations she’d never known before, responding to his passion without restraint.
    ‘You want me, don’t you?’ he asked, letting her breathe for a minute as he nuzzled into her neck.
    ‘Oh, Jack’, was all she could say, a tremble in her voice. She was confused, filled with a racing desire to find out what it was her young body craved, even as some small part of her preached caution and held her back. Yet how could it be wrong if she wanted him to do these things to her? She felt dazed and weak, the longing to surrender almost beyond endurance.
    His hand was on her leg now, sliding softly beneath her skirt, over her bare thigh. Then with a shock of breath in her throat she felt his hand creep beneath the leg of her cami-knickers. Very quickly she caught his hand with her own.
    ‘Please, Jack, no.’ But he wasn’t listening, she felt him shudder against her, press the hardness of his body ever closer, and she remembered reading in the brown paper book how you shouldn’t lead a man on. Was that what she was doing? Being a tease. He was saying something, whispering in her ear.
    ‘It’s all right, Meg. I can use something. You’ll be quite safe.’ A warm, melting sensation flowed through her veins, making her want to let him slide right inside her. The sigh of the wind through the old ash trees above seemed to shelter them, whispering secrets still to be understood; the slip-slap of water from the tarn beyond lulled her so that she could barely drag open eyelids heavy with love. Safe? Use something ? What was he talking about? And then it came to her, why her inner voice cautioned, what it was she must be kept safe from, and she began to wriggle. ‘Give over this instant,’ she cried, pulling herself free. ‘Me dad’ll kill me if I get into trouble.’
    ‘I wouldn’t hurt you, Meg, you can trust me,’ he crooned, still busy at her breasts. Dammit, he thought, I went too fast.
    ‘How do I know that?’ They broke apart to stare at each other, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged, and for a moment she thought he was going to be angry with her for stopping him but then the mischievous smile came back to his face.
    ‘What do you look like,’ he said. And then Meg started to giggle because it was true, they must look a proper mess.
    She pushed him gently away to sit up, smoothing down her skirt, fluffing out her hair, unaware just how enticing she looked with pink cheeks and lips bruised and softened by love making. ‘We should have taken a bit more care.’ Oh, but she didn’t want to take care, she didn’t!
    ‘I will in future, Meg. I’m sorry if I scared you.’ He kissed her nose, thinking if he could get this far the first time, a second chance should be even more interesting.
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