Josephine Cox - Lonely Girl

‘Really?’ She was deeply flattered. ‘Hmm, I never realised you still loved me that much.’

‘If I had any sense I would get you out of my life for good and all, and never think of you ever again,’ he mumbled, ‘because, much as I love you, I know how cruel you can be, but it seems I can’t help myself.’

Now that he felt safe from prying eyes, he began to relax. ‘Come here, my beauty.’ Playfully wrapping his arms about her, he drew her close to him and, to his great delight, she made no protest this time.

‘We’ll be safe enough here,’ Molly again assured him. ‘We can misbehave and enjoy ourselves for as long as we want, and no one will ever know.’ She stroked her fingers down his face, her soft voice calming his fears. ‘Trust me, we’ll be warm and cosy here. So … do you want to have your wicked way with me … or would you rather I show you the way out now?’

‘Molly, stop teasing me.’ The widening smile on his face showed his expectations. ‘It had better be worth the effort,’ he laughed.

‘Oh, it will be.’ They snuggled into the hay.

‘You were right!’ Giggling like a child, Tom gathered her to him. ‘It’s warm as toast in here.’

‘Come on then, let’s not waste precious time!’ Having helped him to take off his jacket, she threw it aside. Then, sliding her fingers under the buckle of his trouser belt, she teasingly undid it.

A moment or so later, she hurriedly tore off her outer clothes and was driving him to distraction with her wicked teasing.

Greedily drawing her into his arms again, Tom was happier than he had been at any time since their last such encounter.

Molly, too, was enjoying herself. This was fun, no strings attached – no jealous husband, no unwanted brat to see to. It took her back to a time before she had ever met John Tanner.

‘They should have been home by now.’ With her father gone for so long, Rosie felt the need to defy his instructions and look out the window, from where she hoped to see his familiar figure walking towards the house. So far, though, there was no sign of either of her parents.

As always, the faithful black Labrador remained by her side, his great squashy paws planted firmly on the windowsill and his bright, watchful eyes carefully scanning the night.

With one arm wrapped around Barney’s thick neck, and the other arm bent across the sill, Rosie focused on the only direct path to the farmhouse.

‘Daddy said he wouldn’t be long, so why isn’t he here?’ With no one else to confide in, she directed her reasoning to the dog. ‘He must have found Mother by now … unless she doesn’t want to be found.’ She felt a surge of rebellion. ‘I’ve a good mind to go out and look for them, but Daddy would be cross if I did. You would look after me, though, wouldn’t you, Barney?’

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