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I am delighted to have Casey McKay on my blog today. Casey was that came to mind when I thought of ‘underwear’. I mean all romance writers have to give some thought to their heroine’s undergarments but Casey took it one step further by something the eponymous heroine of her new book ‘Loving Lena’ an entrepreneurial knicker inventor. I’ll let the lady herself explain.
|I really love the covers to the Ravenswood Manor series.
They’re proper classy.
Thanks so much for having me over today, Etta!
He looked back down at the material he held in his hands, realization dawning on him, “You have created new underthings to wear for the sole purpose of bicycling?”
She looked down at her feet, “I doubt I am the first person to think of them. In fact, I was copying off of this pair that you got me, remember?” She looked back up and gave him a shy smile.
How could he forget? He would always remember the trip he and Lena took to France. He had wanted to take her away someplace where they did not have to hide. They had spent a long, luxurious weekend in Paris.
They had taken in the sights and then he took her to a show. They were both dazzled by the can-can dancers and he bought Lena her very own pair of silk drawers. Just like the ones the dancers had worn.
She had worn them for him a few times, but she was always embarrassed. She did not realize how beautiful she was.
“Put them on for me.” He pulled out her chair and sat.
“Come here, darling.”
She went to him, stepping in between his outspread thighs.
He placed his hands on her hips and looked up into her clear, blue eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Do you know how many times a day I picture you in my mind in this pink silk?” He tugged them out of her hand.
“You are lying.” Her pale complexion was now a bright pink, her chest rising and falling rapidly.“I would not lie to you.” He stood and held her face in his hands. “Undress for me. Undress and put these on. It would please me so,” he whispered to her.
She looked back at him with wide eyes, and he half expected her to tell him to leave. But she turned, giving him her back.
“Will you unbutton me?” she asked.
Wesley felt his length harden in his trousers. Her sweet submission, her willingness to please him, always threatened to undo him.
He opened the back of her dress, taking his time as his fingers brushed down the length of her spine. He could feel the heat of her body under the layers of clothes. It was like unwrapping a gift on Christmas morning, only instead of tearing into the wrapping he was savoring removing all the ribbon first.
Once the back of her dress hung open, he returned to sit in the chair, preparing to watch the rest of her unveiling.
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