Improper Pleasures (The Pleasure Series #1)

First Kindle Edition, September 2012

Copyright 2012 © by Cheryl Howe

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into
any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author,
except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.   

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.

Edited by Janet Wellington, author and  independent
editor.  Contact Janet at [email protected].

Cover by LFD Designs For Authors

To Michelle Sandlin

My BFF and childhood creative co-conspirator. I’m so
blessed to have you as a lifelong friend. Thank you for always seeing the best
in me and reminding me of who I really am.

A masculine sigh drifted past the partially open bedroom
door, interrupting Lady Astra Keane’s private gesture of commiseration. Poor
Wesley. She paused to deposit the crystal vase overflowing with freshly cut
flowers she’d arranged, placing it onto the sitting room’s nearest side table.
Astra was certain her late husband’s cousin and her own dear friend from
childhood would hate for her to witness his despair, especially since he’d done
his best to cheer
her
over his change in fortune.

Still, with the new lord’s arrival imminent, Wesley’s
banishment here to Eastlan’s guest wing must truly be excruciating for him. The
sound of a sharp intake of breath followed by a throaty moan halted her escape.
Was Wesley crying?

Perhaps the shock of discovering an unexpected heir, a
stranger to all of them, had all been too much. Once again he was merely the
steward and no longer the acting lord, now just a distant relative who would
have to ingratiate himself to their new master. Currently, they were all simply
guests of James Keane, former American privateer and the new baron of Eastlan.

Astra crept toward the bedchamber to check on Wesley.
Despite their ardent respect for one another’s privacy, she felt compelled to
let him know he had a friend, a kindred spirit, someone who understood the
cruelty of fate and English entailment. She nudged the dark paneled door and it
silently swung open.

A couple—standing exposed in the middle of a sunlit
bedroom—locked in a lewd embrace. Astra swallowed her shocked gasp. Wesley had
a lover! She jerked back, almost stumbling.

The wave of shock subsided in an instant with her
realization that Wesley was not the man hungrily sucking the breast of the
newest addition to their staff. Melva’s fiery red curls piled atop her head and
her bare pale shoulders sprinkled with freckles were hard to mistake.

The man gripped the maid’s waist with large hands Astra
noticed were tanned from too much time outdoors. Melva held him to her with
fingers tangled in his hair. His booted feet were spread. He was much taller
than he first appeared. Most definitely not Wesley. As she watched, Astra
reached for the door handle, torn between running from the sitting room and
confronting the couple as she knew she should.

Though she was relieved to confirm Wesley’s character
remained untarnished, the carnal exchange set Astra’s heart racing. Once she
identified the man, Astra would report them both to the housekeeper. A
situation such as this had never occurred while she’d resided as Eastlan’s
baroness. Her tenure had been marked by sickbeds and sadness, but never lusty
couples throwing caution to the wind.

After another look at the man, Astra was certain she did
not recognize the maid’s strapping companion. The breadth of his shoulders stretching
his worn linen shirt marked him as a laborer, perhaps a stranger making a
delivery. His sun-streaked hair tied with a leather thong had come loose at
Melva’s greedy fingers. Though fair-haired, his coloring was his only
resemblance to Wesley who had always struck her as slight. A glance lower
proved the stranger wore scuffed leather boots. Strong thighs flexed through
the faded material of his black wool breeches as he sucked the maid with enough
enthusiasm to hollow his cheeks.

Astra’s face heated. When was the last time she’d noticed
any part of a man’s anatomy much less his thighs? A very long time…and the only
reason why she could imagine she felt compelled to linger on such a shocking
interlude.

The man pulled his head away from Melva’s grip, though she
tugged on his freed hair to keep him from escaping entirely. He reached up and
caught her wrists, pinning them to her sides before returning his mouth to
Melva’s aroused and exposed nipples. She gasped as he sucked her hard once
more, the sound of his mouth pulling away from her loud and wet.

Astra pursed her lips to stop her own harsh breath from
escaping. She should leave, feared she would be caught staring at the couple.
No, it would be best to wait for the moment she could slip away unnoticed.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” he murmured in a deep voice that
contrasted her impression that he was a randy villager. His accent was odd. The
confident timbre sent a shiver down the nape of Astra’s neck. Then, all the
heat that had been building in her stomach plummeted when she realized the stranger’s
identity.

“Only for you, my lord,” the maid crooned. “Welcome to
Eastlan. It’s my pleasure to be at your disposal.”

Astra nearly swallowed her tongue in her need to squelch
her shocked gasp. She watched as James Keane, the man whose anticipated arrival
promised to destroy her peaceful existence, straightened and grinned down at
Melva with a searing blue-eyed gaze. The family resemblance in his features
proved he was indeed a Keane by birth, though his size must have come from his
mother’s side. Or perhaps his innate ruggedness sprang from the life he had
lived in America, so different from that of his English relatives. The planes
of his face were hard, yet artfully arranged with high cheekbones and
almond-shaped eyes. His tanned face made his eyes appear bright, like sun
hitting water. A cocky grin tugged at his lips, the only hint that he was
younger than he appeared.

Astra was certain this man was going to make her life
torture from this moment forward. After releasing his hold on Melva’s wrists, he
took a step back and braced his hands on either side of the bureau behind him. Undeterred,
Melva followed and slipped one hand below his waistband. Astra immediately knew
what she was about. She needed to leave at once, but suddenly her late
husband’s American cousin raised his gaze, his muscular frame stiff and alert.
Astra froze, waiting, now afraid her movement might cause him to see her before
she could escape.

“Perhaps I should meet the rest of the household before we
become any better acquainted.” Though his voice sounded roughened by lust,
James Keane moved one hand to grip the maid’s wrist, then eased her hand from
the front of his breeches. Melva stepped back, her lips curled into a pout.

“You said you wished to change from your riding clothes,
my lord.” Melva used her free hand to reach for his white shirt that had
already been partially undone. “I’m merely here to assist you.”

“Oh, you’ve been quite helpful.” The sudden humor in his
words lashed Astra with the same sexual intensity of his earlier husky tone. He
dropped his hold on Melva and yanked the shirt over his head, then let the worn
linen fall to the floor. “Anymore so and I’ll have to change more than just my
shirt.” He glanced down and grinned. The maid laughed and reached for him
again. This time he didn’t stop her. Astra could only stare at his heavily
muscled shoulders and thickly corded arms. Her mouth went dry and she found it
hard to swallow.

“You should take the rest off then.” Melva smiled and slid
against him, her hands roaming over his bared skin. “Don’t worry, my lord, Mr.
Hutton won’t mind waiting a bit longer.”

Melva licked her lips suggestively. When that didn’t
attract his full attention, his gaze still fixed above her head, she used her
tongue to toy with his nipple. He jolted then leaned his head back a little,
his heavy lids half-closed. To Astra’s shock, he seemed to enjoy the
stimulation as much as the maid had earlier. Instantly Astra’s own body heated,
responding to his increasing passion. Thankfully, he kept his unfocused gaze
staring straight ahead, though she still feared if she moved he would surely
see her. Then what? Astra flattened both palms over the flutter in her stomach,
desperate to keep her own spiraling anxiety in check because that’s all it was.
Wasn’t it?

As she watched the maid press her teeth against his
nipple, the urge to slide her hands over the swell of her own breasts grew
almost impossible to resist. But surely it was only a protective measure. The
man was a menace, she reminded herself. Still, in such a state as she was at
the moment, she feared more than ever attempting to flee. Her legs felt too
weak to even move.

Liquid heat pooled between her thighs as she watched the
maid’s tongue. Uncontrollably drawn to the carnal scene, Astra’s wits had
completely betrayed her but she didn’t care. Unable to stop herself, her hand
drifted up to cup her own breast, her thumb gently rubbing her nipple through
her dress.

She stared, her tongue wetting her lips as she squeezed
her nipple while she watched Melva briefly tease her new lord’s other nipple
with the tip of her tongue then trail kisses down his ribs. He gripped the
marble-topped bureau behind him with both hands, rattling the figurines on top
as he stared straight ahead, his pleasure visibly spiraling upward. A vivid
sheen glistened over his taut skin. His haggard breathing mysteriously snatched
Astra’s breath as well.

Forcing herself to come to her senses, she dropped her
hand from her breast then pivoted to slip completely behind the doorframe.
Still weak-kneed, she paused, needing to steady herself before she could safely
dash from the outer room.

“Perhaps…we should…
Jesus!
” he cried out. He seemed
to struggle with his words as desperately as Astra struggled with her sanity.
What
was Melva doing to him?
The voluptuous maid had obviously added another
seductive weapon to her arsenal, one that aroused her captive beyond reason.
One more glimpse, just one, Astra told herself, and she would leave, and with
any luck banish this episode from her mind forever.

She peeked around the doorframe to see that Melva had
dropped to her knees in front of him and had efficiently opened the man’s
breeches, his engorged sex in full view.

Astra cupped her mouth to keep from audibly gasping.

Melva did gasp, but the hum in her voice sounded pleased
rather than shocked. She petted him, stroking his length then firmly wrapping
her fist around his girth. She kissed the swollen tip, teasing it with her
tongue until he moaned again, then took him into her mouth. His knuckles were
white from gripping the chest behind him, as if it was the only thing keeping
him upright. Still he only stared forward, as though unable to move his gaze.

Astra allowed herself to look lower, to see exactly what the
maid was doing, watching her take him inside her mouth, in and out, then sucking
him, pleasuring him with her tongue. Melva used long, slow strokes,
occasionally glancing up as if for instruction or to confirm he was enjoying
her attention. Still he only looked straight ahead. 

Astra had no idea such things were done between a man and
woman. Melva seemed to give him the most crippling ecstasy with each stroke of
her mouth. Astra felt his pleasure from across the room.   

Long seconds passed as Astra watched, moistening then
parting her lips and imagining what the maid was feeling, tasting… Unable to
look away, not really wanting to now, she felt a quiver growing between her
thighs and wished she were…oh, lord, she
did
wish she were in the maid’s
place no matter how improper…then she felt herself swaying. She abruptly closed
her eyes. But it was no use. The scene was still vivid in her mind, and she
felt a delicious rush of liquid heat between her legs. She clenched inside,
then squeezed her thighs together as hard as she could. Holding her breath, she
fought the moan that threatened to escape her lips. She forced her rapidly
beating heart to calm, concentrating on breathing slow long breaths.

She must leave. Now. As soon as it was safe. One more
quick glance at Lord Keane—as she kept her gaze carefully averted from Melva
and what she was doing below his waist—proved the wall in front of him still
held his fascination. Thankfully he hadn’t turned his head toward the door.