During the night, the human knot had unravelled; legs had moved and hands had migrated, but they remained connected.
Barbara awoke the next morning to an inexplicable feeling of calm and wellbeing and a comforting weight beside her. Looking down, she was greeted by an unprecedented sight; a man's hand on her breast. She was lying on her back. He was on his side with his left hand draped over her right breast. She may have been fairly inexperienced, but to her surprise, she rather liked the sensation. That the hand belonged to one Thomas Lynley, her long-time partner, ever closer friend and secret crush, made it all the more pleasant.
Looking over, his face was relaxed in sleep and his hair was adorably tousled. Usually, she would force herself to look away, but for now, she decided to enjoy the guilty pleasure of simply looking at him.
He came awake slowly. Those penetrating eyes opened languidly. Surprise was the first emotion she could discern, and that was followed by recollection of the night's events and then his lips turned up and the pleasure in his gaze was undeniable. She returned his smile.
"Good morning." His smile remained and then he realized where his hand was… She felt his withdrawal and knew that his innate good breeding had kicked in. She didn't want the moment to end. For once, she wanted to see how things would play out.
Before he could remove his hand, she covered it with her own to keep it in place. "Barbara?" There was a question in his voice. Her response was to move closer to him.
She had no idea the picture she made – lying there in her pyjamas with his hand on her breast, her eyes exuding the most heady combination of innocence and allure.
Moving closer, he raised himself on one elbow. Looking into her eyes, he ran his hand over her body; her shoulder, the delicious curve of her hip, her back. Coming back up, he stroked her hair. Noses touching, he leaned in to kiss her. "Barbara, are you sure?"
Curling her arms around his neck, she nodded and asked, "Are you?" There was nothing tentative about her actions. Thomas Lynley didn't need any further invitation. After years of dancing around the attraction that sizzled between them, and his enormous affection for her, they were finally on the same page.
He touched his lips to hers in a caress that made her stomach flutter. He kissed her cheek, the curve of her jaw, her ear. "Barbara, I want you," he whispered before once again kissing her mouth.
Those words freed Barbara from any lingering trepidation. She knew things would never go back to the way they were after this, but she didn't want them to. His words, coupled with the desire smouldering just beneath the surface, reassured her that her feelings were reciprocated.
She wrapped her arms around him, threading her fingers through his hair, and returned his kiss with a fervour that spoke of years of longing.
Stopping for air, Tommy sat up. Never breaking eye-contact he unbuttoned her pyjamas with an ease that came with experience.
The slow, deliberate movements brought a grin to Barbara's face. She caressed his hands, and when it came to the last button, she stopped him. With a demure glance from under her lashes, she undid the barrier between them. Tommy eased the shirt off her shoulders. Her breast were full and luscious, and Barbara blossomed under his adoring gaze.
Reaching over, she pushed his T-shirt up. Her hands on him were urgent. He pulled the T-shirt up over his head the rest of the way, and gave in to the desire he'd had for the longest time to test the weight of her breasts in his hands.
"Touch me, please," he implored. He kissed and caressed her body; her neck, her breasts, her stomach, and he loved the sensation of her hands roaming his back, his chest and lower still.