She was laughing as she pulled open the door. “You liar. You’re not naked at all.”
“Give me five seconds,” he said, backing her into the room. He had on a pair of gray warm-up pants and an Atlanta Falcons sweat shirt.
“You’re crazy.”
“And getting crazier,” he murmured as he tried to capture her mouth. “You’re driving me crazy.” He succeeded in trapping her lips against his. He parted them agilely and kissed her with the savagery he had intimated. His tongue sank into her mouth, instinctively finding the most sensitive places and playing havoc with her senses.
“Tyler—”
“Want has become need, Hailey. I need you.”
Pushing away from him, she sobbed softly, “We can’t.” Then as she ducked her head and stared at her bare feet she said hoarsely, “I can’t.”
“I know.”
She had thought he would curse, beg, shout, but never concur. This quiet agreement was the most surprising of a long list of astonishing statements. “You … you know?” She could barely mouth the words.
“Faith.”
Her features softened with emotion. He was coming to know how she felt about things. She nodded, touching his face with hands that told him how much his understanding was appreciated.
“We’re adults, Hailey. We know what it’s about, but she doesn’t. I can’t preach to her about morality if—”
“I understand, Tyler. I do. I was hoping you would.”
His index finger came up to trace her bottom lip. “You understand everything.” He spoke so softly the words were almost indistinct, yet she heard him. “But do you understand what it’s like for a man to want a woman as much as I want you? I’ve put you in every conceivable erotic fantasy. I ache, Hailey.”
“So do I.”
Her words stunned him. In disbelieving wonder, he stared at her as her fingers closed around the tassle on the zipper of her robe. Their eyes remained locked as the zipper rasped through the rustling fabric. The sound was amplified a thousand times over in the still room. Tyler didn’t move, didn’t breathe.
When the robe was opened, she reached for his hand, brought it to her mouth, and kissed his palm. Knowing she might never have the courage again, she drew his hand to the top curve of her breast and pressed it against her soft flesh. Her palm caressed the back of his hand, his knuckles, his strong, tapering fingers.
“Hailey,” he said in a voice rough with emotion. His eyes dropped from hers to fall on what seemed to come to life under the tender manipulation of his fingers. They combed down the roundness of her breast to the dusky center. His fingers marveled over her and he watched in awe as she responded. His eyes were lifted to hers once more before he lowered his head to cherish with his mouth what his hand had prepared for him.
His tongue laved her nipples with long, circling, sensuous strokes. Lips firm and moist closed around them. Ever so gently, he suckled her. She whispered his name and slipped her hands beneath his sweatshirt to caress the furred skin of his chest.
Tyler was seized by a surging desire that he forced down by a sheer act of will. He encompassed her with possessive arms. His hard, hot cheek nestled against the softness of her breasts. “It will be so good, Hailey,” he vowed in a harsh whisper. “It will be so good.”
He kissed her, not allowing them to touch anywhere except on the lips that molded together as though by design. They smiled at each other with new tenderness when they reluctantly pulled apart. They had just restored their clothing when Faith called from the living room. “Daddy, Hailey, the movie’s starting.”
By the second commercial, Faith was curled up beside Tyler on the deep sofa, burying her face in his shoulder during each gory scene. He kept an arm firmly around Hailey, and each time he looked at her, his eyes echoed the promise he had made.
CHAPTER 9
Breakfast was a boisterous affair, with Tyler acting as chef and Hailey and Faith issuing him orders. Somehow, despite all the confusion, the pancakes and bacon got on the table.
Hailey was impressed by the furnishings in the house. The kitchen was well equipped. None of th
e rooms had that sterile quality that is inherent in houses infrequently opened and aired. How often did Tyler come here? Had he and Monica ever come here together? She doubted it. It was too new for them to have used it during their married life, which had ended ten years ago.
Was this his getaway, where he escaped from the pressures of the business world? Had he brought other women here? How many?
“What’s on your mind, Red?”
She was brought out of her disturbing musings by Tyler’s question. She had been vacantly staring into her coffee cup and hadn’t realized that Faith had deserted the messy kitchen for the television set “Nothing,” she answered in a way invariably annoying to men.
He didn’t take umbrage. “I’ll tell you what was on my mind,” he said with a leer as he leaned across the cluttered table to take her hand.