Sunny Chandler's Return - Page 61

What they did prevented me from making a dreadful mistake.”

Ty kept one hand resting on her thigh. With the other he went searching through her mass of hair looking for pins. One by one he removed them and watched as each heavy curl unwound and fell against her bare shoulders.

“Don needed a woman who would nurse his insecurities. I can see that now.” Sunny absently moved her head around to facilitate Ty’s questing fingers. “He needed a wife who would devote her life to him at the exclusion of everything else, including any personal ambitions.”

Ty laid his collection of hairpins on the end table at his elbow and began combing his fingers through her hair, giving some semblance of order to the disarranged tumble of golden curls. “He needed a hausfrau who worshipped him,” he said gently. His gaze moved over the sensuous woman curled up in his lap. His eyes lighted on her ankle bracelet. “You hardly fit that image.”

“Nurturing him would have been a full-time job. I wouldn’t have had a career beyond that.”

“And what about the nurturing you need?”

“I’ve managed to live without it.”

“Why?”

She knew he was playing devil’s advocate again, forcing her to voice thoughts as they became clear to her. “Fear,” she said, “of being hurt.”

“Hurt?”

“Disillusioned, maybe.”

He smiled tenderly. “I think so.”

She returned his smile and laid her head on his shoulder. For several minutes they said nothing, only enjoyed the peace and comfort and unity of the moment.

“Ty?”

“Hmm?”

“This is the enactment of my fantasy.”

Several heartbeats thrummed by before he angled his head back and looked down at her. “Had any others?”

His mouth had never been warmer or softer as it moved over hers. It had never tasted so good, and Sunny dared to let her tongue dart between his smooth lips for more.

Twilight, filtering through the shuttered windows and spilling through the door, which was still hanging open, forgotten and unimportant, cast the room in shades of lavender. Shadows were deep, but not ominous. The evening air was heavy and sweet with the summery scents of honeysuckle and magnolia and gardenia.

The only sounds made were those of nocturnal animals coming out from their daytime covers, and of night birds calling to each other through the trees, and of the lovers sighing against each other’s lips when they finally drew apart, and of Sunny’s stockings scratching against each other as she shifted her legs and tried to become smaller and needier within his embrace.

“Sunny, Sunny.” Her name was a soft groan coming from Ty’s damp lips. With her assistance, he began extracting the studs of his shirt from their holes until they were lying next to the hairpins on the end table and Sunny’s hand was resting inside the starched cloth and touching the furry warmth of his chest.

As their kiss deepened, his hand curled around her throat. His fingertips stroked her neck as though in awe of its softness. Inside his shirt, Sunny’s fingers were delicately exploring, tweaking clumps of crisp hair, testing the suppleness of muscle, finding and fondling his firm nipple.

He swore in a hoarse whisper and dropped his hand over her breast, cupping the fullness inside her slip. The silk shifted beneath his moving caresses, deliciously abrading her skin. Even the rustling sound it made was erotic. Her breath was nothing more than a catching noise in her throat when he lightly pinched her nipple to a peak.

“Ty?”

“What, darling?”

“Don’t stop touching me this time.”

“Not a chance.”

She kissed his strong, tanned throat all the way down to his chest. She parted his shirt wider and pressed her lips against the solid curve of his chest where she could feel the rapid beating of his heart.

He kneaded her breast, repeatedly sliding his thumb over the hard bud at its tip, before his hand slid down to her waist, which he squeezed affectionately. Then he laid his hand on her knee. The skirt of her slip had worked its way up and was now bunched around her hips.

He raised his head from the hollow of her shoulder, where he had been planting ardent kisses, and stole a glance at her legs. They were sheathed in pale stockings. She was wearing a garter belt. Ty could see the lacy suspenders where they met the stockings at mid-thigh. The sight was so sexy it made his loins thicken with a lust so potent he wondered if he could contain it.

Tags: Sandra Brown Romance
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