Sweet Anger(37)

And suddenly he could feel her, all of her. Her breasts were heaving against his chest. Her belly was softly cushioning his hardness. Her thighs were straining against his.

Angry as she was, she had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes were wide and deeply green in the shadowy light of the room. She breathed through moist and slightly parted lips.

Without thinking beyond the moment, he bent his head and stamped his mouth over hers. His arms swept around her and he drew her closer until her small frame was imprinted on his.

He twisted his mouth over hers until her lips parted. His tongue investigated the row of perfect teeth and elicited a whimper of outrage from her. Still he went on kissing her hard and fervently, until her mouth was forced to open for breath. Then his tongue slipped inside.

It was imposition. It was violation. It was wonderful. And he kept up the rapid thrusts of his tongue until he felt her body weaken and become pliable against his.

At first Kari had been too stunned to move. Then when she began to struggle against him, she realized that she was no match for his strength. How dare he insult her this way? She hated him. But she began to hate herself more.

Because she began to like the kiss.

Could she accuse him of brutality when in fact his mouth gentled its onslaught? He still had her mouth fused to his, but his tongue was no longer hard and rough. It was velvety and sensuous. Its thrusts were no longer random and punishing, but practiced and persuasive. She felt her body’s resistance to such sweet aggression giving way.

With no instruction from her, her arms had wound themselves around his waist. When he pressed his aroused sex against her middle, she realized that she was moist and aching with want and need for it. Her breasts were full and flushed. She had the maddest longing to feel his mouth against their tightened peaks.

He kissed her deeply once more, rubbing his tongue against hers and snuggling her middle against his hips. Then gradually he withdrew. His mouth lingered, dropping delicate kisses on her bruised lips, before he pulled away completely and took a backward step.

He stood perfectly still as he stared down at her. She wished she could vanish into thin air. She hadn’t responded. She hadn’t! she screamed to herself. Still, in case he thought she had, she was afraid to face him. Reluctantly she lifted her eyes to his face.

“What was my biggest fault, Kari? Discrediting Thomas? Contributing to your miscarriage? Wanting you? Or making you want me back?”

He picked up his suit coat. At the door he turned. “One of these days you’ll admit the real reason you’re angry with me.”

He let himself out.


Hunter entered his dark apartment and walked straight to the telephone. He had held out for a long time. But tonight he had kissed, really kissed, Kari Stewart. That had changed his mind. He dialed the long-distance number and after three rings, she answered.

“Pam, it’s me, Hunter. You’ve been right. I’ve been mule-headed. I’m going to give you your divorce.”





Chapter Seven





HE HAD DECIDED TO SIT OUT ELECTION DAY AT HOME.

He knew there must be something wrong with him. He was a healthy, red-blooded American male. But he preferred solitude to a crowd. He preferred watching the evening television newscast to a party.

He sat in front of his TV set like a deviate at a dirty movie. He watched her, mesmerized. By now her speech patterns, facial expressions, and mannerisms were endearingly familiar. He would recognize the flowery scent of her hair anywhere. The texture of her complexion lingered on the pads of his fingers. He knew what her mouth tasted like. He wanted her.

And, by her own admission, she despised him.

What if they’d met under entirely different circumstances? What if he’d met her two years after Wynne’s death? Or what if there’d been no Wynne at all? That would have been even better. They would have liked each other immediately. In fantasies anything was possible, wasn’t it?

He would have invited her out to dinner a few times. They would have talked about their careers, current issues, movies and books. He would have told her his repertoire of jokes and she would have thought him extremely entertaining. They would have discovered that they had a remarkable number of things in common.

One night she would have invited him in for a nightcap. She would have been smiling invitingly. When he took her in his arms, she would have come willingly. Her lips would have parted obligingly beneath his. She would have been hungry for his kisses, craving his caresses.

“I think it’s only fair to tell you that I was married.”

“Was?” Her hair would sweep his hands as her head fell back. His mouth would skate down her throat.

“I’m divorced.” Her breast would fill his palm and he would sigh her name as his thumb found her responsive nipple. “I’ve been alone a long time. Since I’ve met you … Well, I’ve never felt this way about any woman. I want you, Kari. I need your softness and sweetness in my life. Let me love you.”