the sweet scent of parkland grass.
‘C’est la vie,’ she said lazily, having read the phrase in a magazine. She had been dying to try it out even if it didn’t fit the occasion, as she slipped her hand around his slim hips to huddle close. If Wilder didn’t appreciate her then there were plenty of men who did.
They were halfway down Keynes Road, sauntering alongside each other without a care in the world, when the warning banshee wail of the air raid began. Dulcie giggled, she knew her way around the area, and she knew there was an air-raid shelter in the park.
‘Here,’ she said, her voice slurred, ‘let’s cut through here.’ She took his hand and pulled him towards the low coil of barbed wire, realising that under ordinary circumstances she would never have dared do this with a stranger. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances and he wasn’t a stranger now.
‘I know where the shelter is,’ she quipped, noticing all the railings had been taken away to help build war planes and the park was quite open except for the low roll of spiked wire. Then to her complete surprise and obvious delight she felt his strong hands lift her up with ease, and the handsome airman whose name she hadn’t even asked carried her over it.
‘That was close, ma’am,’ he said, taking off his jacket and laying it on the grimy wooden bench that went along the wall of the empty air-raid shelter. Dulcie was about to protest when she remembered that she was wearing her best skirt and didn’t fancy ruining it on a grimy seat so instead she smiled and decided to make herself comfy for the duration of the raid.
‘Can we have less of the “ma’am” please, Soldier.’ Dulcie giggled again. ‘You make me sound like Methuselah’s mother.’ She paused and gave a thoughtful pout. ‘Well, his sister at least.’ Then she laughed, really laughed as if she had heard something so delightful. He made her feel good, this handsome GI, and ever so glad she’d met him.
‘I don’t know who this Methuselah guy is. Ma’am. but …’
‘Dulcie,’ she sighed. ‘My name is Dulcie.’ She gave another throaty laugh and she rocked a little as he enfolded her in his arms whilst she tried focus on his handsome features. He was so close now she could smell the clean fresh tang of his cologne.
‘Well, Dulcie, that’s some raunchy laugh you got there if you don’t mind my saying …’
‘Not at all,’ Dulcie all but whispered. ‘And you are?’ She noticed a delicious, unexpected warmth rise to certain parts of her body, making her feel decadent. She had never felt this way before. Not even with Wilder. He was closer now. The nearer he got the more her desire soared. And the more she craved his lips on hers. Maybe this was what they meant when they talked about their finest hour. Another giggle was only a whisper away and she watched him from under her lashes.
‘Well, Dulcie.’ His voice was low, intimate, with a little catch to it, and he never took his eyes from her. ‘My name’s Reece Redgrave the third …’
‘The third?’ Dulcie drawled and he told her yes in his deep Southern accent and Dulcie’s heart melted right there. He felt so powerful holding her like that, tanned and muscled in all the right places, and he was so polite: soothing her nerves, making her feel so special, unlike Wilder … Dulcie didn’t want to think of Wilder’s treachery now.
She wanted to forget the death and destruction going on around them and, if she was honest, even forget poor, injured, incapacitated David who flashed through her thoughts momentarily. What kind of a life would he have now? Who would have thought it? Fit and agile one minute … Then … But those thoughts were for another time. Now she needed strong arms around her to feel safe and above all she wanted, no, needed, to be desired.
Wilder never paid her the compliments that Reece was doing now. He never made her feel like a red-blooded woman the way Reece did. And if she was perfectly honest she wanted Reece to … Well, she couldn’t put into words what she wanted him to do, not even to herself.
Her heart, beating faster now, caused her breath to come in small, shallow pants as she pushed the fallen fringe from her eyes with both hands and crossed her legs, allowing her shoe to dangle from her red-painted toes, enjoying his lingering, open appreciation of her body.
‘So, Reece Redgrave the third.’ Dulcie’s voice came in short, whispering gasps. ‘Why don’t you sit here next to me.’ She tapped the wooden bench with her long red fingernails after making herself comfortable on Reece’s uniform jacket and in no time at all he was sitting so close to her she could feel every muscled curve of his body.
When he nuzzled her ear Dulcie giggled as the delicious ripples of pleasure woke up parts of her body she didn’t know existed before and as Reece trailed feathery butterfly kisses on her neck and décolletage, causing her to throw her head back in delicious abandonment, ignoring the swimming sensation in her head. Dulcie knew what was going to happen next and she savoured the anticipation as his lips sought hers.
Live for today, she thought lazily. Live for the moment. Tomorrow may never come. Suddenly Reece Redgrave was kissing her with an urgency and passion that made her head spin. Dulcie was caught up in a haze of desire so enjoyable she never wanted it to stop.
The clean, fresh tang of his cologne had her wanting more … much more … A small, involuntary groan escaped her lips as his kisses rained across her neck, her eyes, and her lips. They were breathing in shallow, panting unison now, and she did nothing to stop Reece as ricochets of delight exploded through her body.
Feeling reckless and wildly excited Dulcie could not get enough of Reece Redgrave the third. Tonight was the night she was going to lose her virginity! The alcohol she had consumed gave her an air of indestructibility. Nothing mattered now. She didn’t care one iota. They were alone in the shelter; obviously the earlier deluge had kept people away. It was so right.
‘Kiss me … Kiss me …’ Her voice came in small guttural bursts and she found it hard to breathe. Arching her back Dulcie accepted his exploring hands as they roamed every inch of her yielding body. She knew she had never let Wilder go so far … never let any man … go this far …
‘You sure are beautiful, Dulcie …’ Reece was panting now, his hands feverishly pushing up the tight, pencil-slim skirt and gently pushing his fingers beneath the rim of her silk cami-knickers, pulling at her suspenders and stroking the warm silken flesh that peeped over her stocking tops.
‘I never … thought … it would be … this easy.’ His words were coming in short sharp gasps now and it took a moment for their meaning to sink into the fog.
Easy?
All yearning disappeared suddenly, as the word sank into the craving miasma … The realisation hit Dulcie like a slap in the face.
Easy?
He was intimating that she was no better than the ‘Piccadilly commandos’ who plied their trade in Soho! How could he? He had been so polite. So charming and so, so convincing.
Dulcie opened her eyes and saw him, lost in the grip of passion, oblivious to anything around him. The glazed expression of his once-beautiful eyes told her that he wasn’t seeing her at all. She could have been anybody.
Lifting her head, feeling suddenly soiled, Dulcie looked at Reece, lost in the same trance of ecstasy she had been consumed by just moments before. This isn’t what she wanted any more. They hadn’t even stopped to … to … Oh no, she thought frantically. How could she have been so stupid?
‘Get
