Sunny Chandler's Return

And, just as tenaciously, her mind clung to the memory of that hateful kiss.

She hadn’t responded.

“I didn’t,” she hissed at the ceiling, as though to convince it of what she hadn’t been able to persuade herself.

His mouth had been so unapologetically hungry, so consummately male, as it moved over hers. He had pressed his lips determinedly against hers until they had parted. Then—

Sunny groaned. Her stomach went weightless and her womanhood blossomed with a pulsing warmth when she recalled his tongue sleekly thrusting its way between her lips and into her mouth. Undisciplined. Erotic. Such a thief. Because it had robbed her of the will to resist.

At that moment she had stopped trying to squirm away from him. The bones in her neck had turned to jelly. Her head had fallen back even more, giving him freer access to her mouth. Again and again his tongue had penetrated, delving deeper each time.

She had allowed it! Heaven forbid, she had even encouraged it, reaching for his tongue with her own when his withdrew.

With her capitulation, his hold had gentled. The hands, which had been firmly cupping the back of her head, moved down to her neck. His fingers stroked her nape with the same loving tenderness that his lips pressed soft kisses onto hers.

“My fingers are still oily,” he had whispered. “Think how good it would feel if I...”

Sunny looked down at her body now and saw that her nipples were responding with the recollection just as they had at his breathtaking suggestions. When he had whispered in that devil’s voice of his about what he would like to do with his lips and tongue, her breasts had ached with longing for him to stop talking about it and start doing it.

Sunny shuddered. Her skin was finally cooling off. She had goose bumps. But the fire insi

de her still raged out of control. It was a conflagration of humiliation as much as desire.

“Damn him.”

She had repeated the curse a thousand times. For at the moment when she was the most malleable, willing to participate in enacting the fantasies he whispered about, he had eased her back, smiled, and said, “I’ve stayed too long. I’ve got to go.”

As she watched, trembling with remnant desire and rage, he had hopped down into his boat. As he unwound the rope from the pile he said, “I’d be careful sitting out here like that if I were you. There’s all kinds of wackos prowling these woods, and your nearest neighbor lives over a mile away.”

She had followed the direction of his gaze down and, to her further mortification, discovered that their embrace had worked down the top of her bikini. The creamy tops of her breasts were swelling out of it. She viciously tugged it back into place.

He winked audaciously a second before he replaced his sunglasses. “I’ll be seeing you later, Sunny.”

Then, with a jaunty wave, he had left.

Sunny pulled the sheet over her nakedness, rolled to her side, and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d feel better after a nap. Maybe she was in the middle of a nap already and would soon wake up to discover that her visit from Ty Beaumont had been only a bad dream.

His taste lingered on her lips and tongue. She could still feel him, full and firm, pressing against the cradle of her femininity. His denim shorts had felt so good against her bare thighs. The ragged fringe had tickled. Her breasts flushed with heat and tingled with sensations every time his evocative words echoed in the chambers of her mind.

She hated him.

She woke up hours later, disoriented and uncomfortable. She stretched her cramped muscles. Her skin felt tight and was stinging from overexposure to the sun.

She got out of bed and pulled the nightgown back on. Her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything since the grapefruit this morning. She padded into the kitchen and cooked herself an omelet. Maybe tomorrow evening she’d eat dinner out. But she didn’t feel like facing people tonight. Not if everything Ty Beaumont had said was true.

Had people who had known her all her life really thought those terrible things about her? No wonder they had stared at her last night at the party as though she were a freak.

And by going into town, she ran the risk of seeing Don and Gretchen. She couldn’t bear that.

She cleaned up her few dishes and switched out the kitchen light. There was nothing to do until she grew sleepy again but read or watch television. She was trying to decide which when she heard the noise outside.

Three

Old houses settled and made creaking noises, right?

Right.

Branches knocked against the eaves when the wind blew, right?