Kirk said, "My first surprise was that you weren't wearing a bra." Her skin had seemed to glow in the semidark. When her breasts had popped into view, his eyes widened beneath the hood.
"I didn't want lines under the suit. Especially panty lines."
"Yeah, that was my second surprise." Sunny had pushed the bodysuit down to her feet and stepped out of it, stark naked. Kirk had kept glancing at both entrances to his little "execution chamber," kept listening for sounds of someone approaching.
"You wanted me to get dressed," Sunny said, sliding her hands up his chest.
"Well, I didn't want you to get dressed, I was just…"
"Inhibited."
Kirk laughed. "You were uninhibited enough for both of us."
"Part of you wasn't inhibited, though." She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his arms.
The part of him that wasn't inhibited had made his pants a tight fit. He'd tried to talk reason to her, tried to talk her into taking a ride with him to find some secluded place. Mutely she'd slid her hands up the insides of his thighs to meet in the middle. After that, all he'd managed to get out was a groan.
"Do you remember what you did next?" Kirk asked, feeling himself stir anew at the memory.
Sunny's eyes were a deep violet, the pupils wide and bottomless. "I released you."
A slow smile spread across his face. "Well, you released part of me." His rampant penis had sprung from his open fly into her soft, hot hands. He'd thought that was how it would end, that she'd satisfy him that way, a quick hand job. But she'd had other plans.
Kirk's voice sounded a little hoarse to his ears. "You'd never done that before. Taken me in your mouth."
Sunny smiled. "I was curious. And I wanted to please you. I didn't know how excited it would make me, kissing you there."
Kirk pulled her against himself again, letting her feel what this conversation was doing to him. "It was so incredibly erotic. Never in my life had I felt anything like that. My imagination didn't even come close. And you were so eager … and so endearingly innocent at the same time. And I couldn't even see you! I still had the damn hood on, and it kept me from looking down. That just made it more…" Something close to a growl escaped him. "It's a wonder I didn't shoot off like a rocket the instant I felt your lips there."
"It would've been okay if you had, but I'm glad you didn't."
"You finally got that hood off me." She'd crawled onto his lap, her knees astride him on the wide wooden chair, and worked the leather hood off. The instant his face was free, she'd kissed him, aggressively, spearing him with her tongue, hard and fast. That was something else she'd never done before, asserted herself so boldly, and it had him jerking his hips, instinctively seeking the moist core of her.
Sunny had appeared unmoved by his painfully aroused condition, by his breathless pleas. She'd quieted him by offering her breast, lifting it to his lips. Half out of his mind with lust, Kirk had latched on to it hard, sucking greedily, holding her with his teeth. The honeyed taste of her, the feel of her in his mouth, against his tongue, had inflamed him past endurance. Never had he treated her so roughly, but at the time, gentleness had been beyond him. Her shrill gasps had bounced off the partitioned walls. Just when his dazed mind had realized he might be hurting her, he'd heard her moans of encouragement. Yes, oh yes, Kirk…
Her hips had lowered and she'd impaled herself on him in one long, slow descent.
"As I recall," she said, "we made sparks fly."
"Literally." The instant he'd felt himself sink into her body, tighter and slipperier and hotter than any woman had a right to be, his fingers had clenched the arms of the chair, inadvertently pressing the hidden button and setting off the sparks and sizzling sounds that mimicked electrocution.
Thank God no one had come downstairs to investigate the noise, because Kirk was past worrying about an audience. If the whole party had managed to squeeze into the room, he wouldn't have noticed. He was aware of nothing except Sunny riding him, devouring him, wringing him dry.
He said, "I came so hard I thought my head was going to fly off."
"Now we're talking guillotine, not electric chair." Her hands skimmed down his sides.
Kirk kissed her, tasted her lingeringly. He plucked at her mouth as she shifted against him for greater contact. His hands slipped under the short hem of her dress, and he felt her breathing change. His fingers glided up her bare thighs to the edge of her underpants.
"You wore an old-fashioned garter belt at the wedding," he murmured against her lips. He smiled. "You still know how to surprise me."
"I'm no fan of panty hose." She breathed a sigh as his hands molded her bottom over the bikini underpants, bunching her dress around her hips.
"No garter belt now," he observed.
"Too warm for stockings. Kiss me again."
He did, and while they were linked, mouth to mouth, he turned her so her back was to the butcher block. He broke the kiss to lift her onto it. Her dress remained bunched, affording him a glimpse of her polka-dotted underpants. Sunny's eyes were drowsy with desire, her nostrils flared. Without wasting another second, Kirk grasped the zipper tab at the scoop neckline of the dress and pulled.
She was wearing a matching polka-dotted bra, cotton but with those abbreviated cups that exposed as much as they concealed.
"Front clasp," he said, undoing the hook that closed the bra. "This must be my lucky day."
"And mine," Sunny said with a lopsided smile.
The cups parted and Kirk pushed them aside. Like the rest of her figure, her breasts were a bit fuller than in high school, not quite as high as they had been, but beautiful, womanly. Perfect.
"You take my breath away." He placed a soft kiss on one puckered tip, felt it tighten further under his lips. Nothing had ever sounded as sweet as her indrawn breath. Her head dropped back; she threaded her fingers through his hair.
Kirk licked the nipple, light flicks of his tongue, goading it into a stiff knot. He sucked it into his mouth, reveling in her sharp cry, the mindless force with which she pulled him closer. At the same time he played with the other breast, shaping it in his hand, teasing the peak.
He pulled her to the edge of the butcher block and hauled her off it, wrapping her legs around his hips. Quickly he strode down the hall toward his room, locked mouth to mouth with Sunny, now squirming against him in silent entreaty.
"Da. Cup."
Ian's voice, from behind the closed door of his bedroom, froze Kirk in his tracks. His head snapped up, as did Sunny's.
"Cup! Dink!"
Sunny slid down off of Kirk. Swiftly she adjusted her clothing as he muttered a litany of swear words under his breath.
He cleared his throat. Seeing that Sunny was now decent, he opened the door to Ian's room, softly illuminated by a cartoon night-light. The toddler stood in his crib, clad in diaper and undershirt. Clutching the side rail with one hand, he rubbed a fist over one eye.
Kirk came into the room and ruffled Ian's blond curls. "What's is it, champ? I thought you were asleep."
"Dink. Firsty."
"You want a drink of water?"
"I'll get it," Sunny said from the doorway, and disappeared.
Ian yawned. Kirk lifted him out of the crib and cuddled him against his chest. As always, the feel of his son in his arms, the warmth and weight of him, the fine baby scent of his hair, triggered feelings so intense they threatened to choke him.
"You're my champ. I love you so much," Kirk whispered. "You know that, don't you?"
Ian nodded his little head, the silky curls tickling Kirk's neck. His eyelids were drooping, but he perked up when Sunny entered with a plastic sipper cup of water. He reached for it and drained half of it in one long pull.
Sunny smiled tenderly. "You really were thirsty, weren't you?" A little water dribbled out of his mouth, and she wiped his chin with her fingers. "Enough?"
Nodding, Ian let her take the cup. Kirk shifted him in his arms and lifted him over the crib rail, pre
tending to grunt with the effort. "You're growing so well, you're getting to be a really big boy."
That seemed to please Ian, who smiled as his father tucked him under his blanket. "Posse."
"What? Posse? I don't know what that means, Ian."
"Posse. Posse!"
The last thing Kirk wanted was for Ian to get himself worked up at this hour. Helplessly he turned to Sunny. "Any ideas?"
She stroked Ian's middle. "Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme? Is that what you want?"
He nodded vigorously. "Posse! Sing!"
Kirk stifled a chuckle. "Do I have to stay?"
"You certainly do," Sunny said, feigning umbrage. "You can do backup vocals."
"No, thanks."
Sunny sang softly to the boy, and to Kirk's surprise, her rendition of "Scarborough Fair," the old folk song popularized by Simon and Garfunkel, was actually pleasing to the ear.
Ian nodded off again before she got to the second chorus.
Kirk said, "With any luck, he'll stay asleep this time."
Sunny glanced around the room, her gaze lingering on Ian's dresser top. Going over to it, she lifted a framed photograph and held it nearer the nightlight. Kirk's pulse picked up speed.
"She was beautiful." Sunny examined the picture of Linda and a ten-month-old Ian, taken two months before her death. Linda was cuddling her baby on the lawn of their home, both of them laughing, the breeze lifting her straight, light brown hair.
Sunny took her time looking at it before carefully replacing it on the dresser, in the precise spot it had occupied.
Kirk said, "I … I want him to know who his mother was. I want him to know how much she—" His voice cracked.
Sunny looked at him. Her eyes shone wetly in the soft light. "How much she loved him." She took his hand. "He'll never doubt that, Kirk. I just know it."
He gripped her hand hard. He took a deep breath, and one last look at Ian, sleeping peacefully. "Come on."
Quietly they left the room, leaving the door ajar.
"He really has grown so much," Kirk said. "It's hard to believe he's the same tiny thing I could practically hold in the palm of my hand."
"It won't be long before he outgrows that crib," she said. "He'll be demanding an honest-to-God big-boy bed before you know it."
"Getting rid of that crib will be bittersweet. A phase of his childhood gone forever."
"Well, you won't get rid of it. You'll put it in storage for the next baby."
Sunny misinterpreted the look on his face. Her expression softened; she touched his cheek. "I know you're not thinking along those lines now, Kirk. That's understandable. But you're young. Chances are, you'll remarry someday, and give Ian a brother or a sister…"
Kirk knew he'd failed to disguise his discomfort with this subject when Sunny's gentle smile faded. She dropped her hand. "I shouldn't have said anything—"
"No. You didn't…" Helplessly he shook his head. "You didn't say anything wrong, Sunny. I'm just…" He lifted her hand, brushed his lips over her knuckles. Some things had no easy answers.
She searched his eyes, her own solemn. "What are you thinking about? What's wrong?"
He couldn't look at her. All he could do was shake his head again, as if nothing were wrong, as if she'd merely imagined his despair. His gaze landed on the open door of his bedroom. But he knew it wasn't going to happen even before Sunny said, "I think I'd better get going."
His frustrated sigh said it all. Her wry expression told him it wasn't one-sided. But now wasn't the time; the moment had been lost.
Standing on tiptoes, Sunny kissed him. "Will you tell me someday?" He hadn't fooled her.
Kirk nodded. "Someday."
* * *
Chapter 5
«^»
"This piece goes in … uh…" Kirk squinted at the assembly instructions. "This joint here."
"No, it doesn't." Sunny made a grab for the instruction sheet, only to have him yank it out of reach. She rolled her eyes. What was it about men and do-it-yourself projects? They all seemed to think women were incapable of constructing anything more complicated than a sandwich.
They sat on Kirk's back lawn, inside an elaborate toddler play environment constructed of multicolored parachute nylon stretched over a framework of plastic tubing. Two long, roomy crawl tunnels converged at a right angle, linked by a central tentlike cube with child-size window and door openings. Kirk's parents had taken Ian to the botanical gardens today. This play tent would be a surprise for him when he returned.
If they ever got it put together.
Sunny and Kirk had just enough room inside the half-finished central cube to sit on the grass and study the instructions printed in teeny-tiny text, poorly translated from the original Swedish. Though the red, yellow and blue fabric walls of the cube were opaque, afternoon sunlight streamed through them as if they were stained glass, painting the interior, and its occupants, in watercolor tones. Kirk was shirtless in the early August heat, his only clothing a skimpy pair of black running shorts. The slightest movement caused patches of color to skate across his sun-burnished torso.
"Ian better appreciate this," he grumbled.
Sunny laughed. "Oh yeah, that'll happen. And anyway, I'm the one who bought this for him."
"You and your home-shopping networks. I oughta make you put this thing together."
"You know, for a physics professor, you seem to have a less-than-impressive grasp of matter and energy as they relate to the Fun World Deluxe Play Tunnel. Give me that pipe. It doesn't go there."
He shooed her hands away from the plastic tube he was attempting to jam into a too-small joint. "This thing is defective."
"Uh-huh. It couldn't be that this piece goes here—" she pointed to a different joint "—and this other, smaller tube, the tube that looks like it's made just for this spot, goes here. Could it?" She slipped it neatly into place.
Kirk frowned at her handiwork, then stuck his nose back in the instruction sheet. Sunny ripped the paper out of his hand, wadded it up and tossed it out the porthole that passed for a window.
"Sometimes you have to figure things out by doing," she said. "Not all answers can be found in the written word, Professor."
"Why, how immensely profound. How's an eighteen-month-old supposed to negotiate this thing, anyway? It's like some giant hamster habitat. My first apartment wasn't this big."
"He'll love it. Don't you wish you'd had something like this when you were a kid?"
"In my day we played in cardboard boxes and were happy to have them."
"Well, old-timer, welcome to the twenty-first century. Here. Hold this." In a few swift moves, Sunny finished putting together the cube. "Ta-daaa!"
Kirk was wide-eyed. "How'd you do that?"
"Didn't you ever play with Tinker Toys? Oh, that's right. All you had was cardboard boxes. Gosh, I think I'm going to cry."
"My, aren't we smug." Kirk rested his forearm on a raised knee. "I may be lousy at putting together human hamster habitats, but I have my talents."
"You do, huh?" He probably hadn't meant it to sound suggestive, but for the last week and a half since they'd almost made love, Sunny had been in a near constant state of frustration. The few times she and Kirk had been able to see each other had been in the company of others: taking Ian to the zoo, attending one of the spectacular parties Amanda loved to throw, and taking in the latest Spielberg movie with Charli and Grant, who'd just returned from their three-week honeymoon trip to Italy and Greece.
Then again, judging by the way Kirk was looking at her, maybe she wasn't the only one who'd been frustrated.
"What?" he asked, with a secret little smile. "You don't think I'm a talented guy?"
"Well, I know you used to have your talents, way back in high school. But I mean, it's been a long time, right? Maybe the years have taken their toll." She added pointedly, "Old-timer."
The corners of Kirk's eyes crinkled. "I know a challenge when I hear one."
Sunny's heartbeat skittered.
"I don't know…" she said sadly. "A guy who can't even put together a simple play tent?"
He reached for her, and she neatly evaded him, scooting to the edge of the cube. His smile turned feral, reminding Sunny that he could strike like a cobra when he chose to.
Without wasting another second, she dove into the nearest crawl tunnel, which glowed with the same sun-washed colors as the cube. Laughing, she scampered toward the patch of grass visible at the end. She'd nearly made it when Kirk's bare feet appeared in the round opening, and then his grinning face as he bent down to taunt her.
"You can run, but you can't hide!" he crowed.
She jerked to a stop. "No fair! I can't get up any speed in this dress." Her short, India-print sundress tangled under her knees as she crawled.
"So take it off."
"Now, how did I know that would be your solution?" As she spoke, she backed up swiftly. There was no room in the tunnel to turn around. Just as her butt approached the entrance to the cube, two big hands grabbed it and pulled. But Sunny was prepared for this move. She released the shoulder ties of her dress and scampered forward again, leaving Kirk holding a handful of gauzy fabric. The tunnel reverberated with her giddy laughter.
Halfway to the end, dad only in bra and panties, she peered over her shoulder, to see Kirk peering back from the cube.
"This is quite a view," he said, eyeing her raised derriere appreciatively. "I hope my neighbor, old Reverend Hargity, isn't peeking over the fence when you make a run for the house like that."
"Who said I'll be running? Maybe I'll stroll over and have a nice chat with the rev."
Kirk's rich chuckle said he wouldn't put it past her. She watched him crawl out of the cube via the small oval doorway. Soon the tunnel was shifting. Kirk was dragging it by the end.
ONE EAGER BRIDE TO GO Page 5
