Liz Adams: Alice's Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful World

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Liz Adams Alice's Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful World
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    Alice's Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful World
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Liz Adams

Alice's Sexual Discovery in a Wonderful World

Chapter 1

Night’s promise of the forbidden blanketed across the sky, seeking to penetrate the windows of Alice’s manor. Alice stood at the second-story window brushing her long hair. She was glad to be back from Newnham, that all-girls college in Cambridge University. Getting away from all those giggles and high voices was a welcome relief. So was coming home to see the stars shining above the manor she grew up in. Being home for the holidays, Alice could sleep in, read what she wanted, go to the cinema, and just relax. Tomorrow she’d call all her friends from secondary school.

What was that outside? Something moved in the garden, but it was hard to tell what. With the lights on in her room and the darkness outside, Alice had to rely on the moonlight to reveal the midnight motion. She squinted. It was Jack. Her heart sped up.

Jack had been the gardener for Alice’s family since Alice was fifteen, and he was only a few years Alice’s senior. That made him now twenty-two?

He was, oh, so cute with his scruff of short, black hair above his gorgeous eyes and chiseled chin.

When she was fifteen, it had taken her months to get bold enough to go beyond “Hi,” and actually try to have a conversation with him.

Alice remembered that day she finally spoke to him. She and her sister Lois had just come back from seeing a Beatles film.

Jack had been tending to the tomato bushes. He was shirtless, his glistening muscles rippled in the sun.

Alice swallowed. “I just saw ‘A Hard Day’s Night!’ ”

Jack stood up straight and looked at Alice. Lord, those blue eyes!

“That new Beatles film.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. His voice had a slight growl that was sexy as hell. “Ever since I met you, you’ve raved about them. Big fan, eh?”

Alice nodded emphatically. “Big fan!”

“I’m more of a jazz guy, myself. But I can’t say I blame you. The Beatles are pretty damn good. How’d you like the movie?”

“It was really good! All the songs. They’re incredible!”

“Great. I must see it some time.” Jack squinted at Alice. “How was the popcorn?”

“Uh…good. How did you know I…?”

“You’ve got a small piece there near your lips. Here. Hold still.”

Alice didn’t move. Jack placed a finger on her and stroked her lower lip. The feeling of his tender finger across her lip shot jolts through her body.

“There.” He smiled at her. “Now no one else will know.”

Was it Alice’s imagination or were their eyes locked longer than usual? Jack cleared his throat, muttered something about the tomatoes, and returned to tending the plants.

Alice sighed and watched him pull off the dry leaves. He seemed to actually like what he was doing.

There must be some way to keep the conversation going. She toed the earth. “What made you want to be a gardener?”

Jack looked up at Alice. Alice thought she could spend all day looking into his blue eyes.

He smiled. “Thank you.”

What was he thanking her for? She giggled. Stupid giggle!

“No one’s ever asked me that before,” he explained. “When I think of how I’m able to help a seed grow into all of nature’s colors just by giving it the love and attention it needs, it makes me feel so…alive.”

Did he just say “love?” How many boys did she know could say the word “love” without sounding like they were trying on a dress? None. Jack said “love” like it was the most comfortable part of his life. He conveyed his feelings with such ease.

“And the results of my affection,” Jack plucked a red tomato from the bush, “taste incredible.”

He held the red fruit to Alice’s lips. She closed her eyes and bit into the warm fruit, tasting in its juices Jack’s love and affection.

She opened her eyes. There were his baby blues. Alice lost herself in them.

She stopped herself from saying “I love you,” and giggled instead.

Jack turned away. He picked off the dead leaves on the plant in front of him, and without looking at Alice, he said, “You’re a good friend. A sweet, little girl.”

Alice choked. A sweet, little girl? As in “I-love-you-like-a-sister sweet, little girl”? That’s when it hit her. Jack would never love her. Really love her. She wasn’t pretty enough. She was just a sweet, little girl. Not beautiful, not attractive. Probably loved his stupid plants more than her. Damn! Damn! Damn!

“Is something wrong?” Jack asked.

“What? No! Nothing! I just got some dirt…” Choking on her words, Alice wiped her eyes and ran off.

That painful realization was the best thing for her, as far as Alice was concerned. At least she knew how Jack felt. Knowing she could never be in a relationship with him was better than not knowing how he felt. She was able to get on with her life. Over the years she even flirted with Jack. Flirting came easy knowing that nothing she said could ruin the chance of them being together. Because there was no chance of them being together. They were just friends. Jack had made that quite clear.

She had spent the next few years convincing herself there were other men out in the world. And when she went to university, Alice knew she’d have the opportunity to admire many young men in the nearby coed colleges in Cambridge.

But after coming home from those first several months at university, right in front of her was Jack passing through the garden in the middle of the night and she couldn’t deny how her heart still sped up at the shadowy sight of him. It looked as though Jack might be noticing her standing at the window.

She reached with her free hand to caress her breast through the soft fabric of her silk nightgown. Such a bold action, it surprised even her that she was doing it. She lifted her head back as though relishing the sensation. With her eyes half-closed she kept an eye on Jack.

Yes. He was still looking at her. Knowing he was watching her made her pulse quicken. But she then realized the consequence of her game. What had she done? Their relationship was now going to completely change, and there was no way to undo her hand-on-breast stunt.

If you’re going to play, as her classmates would often tell her, play all the way!

Alice pretended not to notice as she placed the hairbrush on the table beside her and used both hands to massage her chest.

Am I a sweet little girl now, Jack? Is this what sweet girls do? Do these look like they belong to a little girl? Her hands squeezed and tweaked creating familiar sensations among an all too unfamiliar audience. I am not a sweet little girl. No way. Are you watching me Jack? Are you seeing me?

Alice breathed hard. She peeked. He was watching her. And maybe, just maybe, he was seeing her, too.

Her nipples hardened. She wanted to touch them directly, but Alice was afraid that if she stopped what she was doing, even to take off her nightgown, it would scare Jack off. So she continued to press her breasts, squeeze them, pet them. Anything to make this moment last as long as possible.

She thought about what Jack was seeing. Was he hard? Was he turned on? But perhaps the more important question was, did he like her body?

Alice panted. Lord, was his breathing as heavy as mine? She pictured Jack touching her, caressing her breasts, pinching her nipples, telling her how stunning she was, how he’d always loved her and had always wanted her forever.

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