all through the day and night.”
With an intensity Hunter could barely shield, hewatched the expressions chase across Elyssa’s face—sadness for the dead mare, pleasure in the foal, amusement at his attempts to stand, and above all, love for the dangerous stud who was standing half-asleep beneath her gentle hands.
Belinda never liked animals , Hunter realized. Not like this. Belinda chose a horse for its color and a cat because it matched her trousseau. I thought it was amusing, then .
Judas Priest, but I was stupid .
Still am .
Otherwise I wouldn’t be getting hard just watching a flirt groom a horse .
“What did you feed him?” Hunter asked, his voice almost rough. “Sugar mash?”
“We had a cow that was fresh, because my mother loved butter and cheese. Penny and I rigged a bottle of sorts. At first, Leopard wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”
The stud shifted his weight. He turned his head and lipped at a strand of long, pale hair that had escaped from Elyssa’s hastily made chignon.
Without breaking the easy rhythm of the grooming, she tucked the hair back out of reach.
Leopard stretched his neck and pulled the chignon apart with his agile lips.
Laughing, scolding Leopard gently, Elyssa balanced the brush on his spotted buttocks, swept up her hair in both hands, and knotted it at the back of her neck once more.
Hunter let out a slow, hidden breath. He tried to ignore the sudden heavy running of his blood. It would be a long time forgetting the sight of all that silky, flaxen hair tumbling wild and free down Elyssa’s sea-green dress.
And her hands, so quick and graceful.
What would it be like to have those hands all over me ? Hunter thought.
Then, savagely, I’m a fool for even thinking about it .
“That’s how I got Leopard to drink,” Elyssa said, picking up the brush once more.
Hunter made an encouraging sound. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew his voice would be too deep, too husky, rough with the force of the desire pouring through his body.
“I dipped a strand of hair in milk and tickled his lips with it,” Elyssa explained. “After a while, he got the idea and started sucking on the hair.”
Hunter looked at the big stud and tried to imagine him as a feeble colt. It was impossible.
“Within a few days I had him on a proper nipple,” Elyssa said, “but he never forgot. He loves to lip my hair, as though he expects milk and honey every time.”
Hunter said nothing. He was too busy thinking what it would feel like to pull apart the loose knot of the chignon and bury his face in Elyssa’s clean, sweet-scented hair.
And then he would reach beneath the silk to find even softer, sweeter flesh.
Elyssa would let me, just like she let me in the barn .
God, I’ve never had a woman respond like that, all in a rush, her breathing as sudden and ragged as mine .
Night after night, she would be a wildfire burning for me, hot and unrestrained. I would be the same for her, burning her all the way to her hungry, sensual soul .
A hidden shudder of desire went through Hunter as he thought about it…the girl and the night and the fire.
In one way, at least, Elyssa is different from Belinda. Belinda was calculating. Elyssa is too reckless to be wise .
Sex would be good with her. So damned good. Maybe even worth marrying for .
Hunter heard his own thoughts and went cold.
Haven’t I learned yet ? he asked himself scathingly. Did Ted and little Em die for nothing ?
Shocked and angered by his own unruly sexuality, Hunter faced again the consequences of having chosen the wrong girl as a wife, just because she made his blood run hot and wild.
How can I even think of shackling myself to another Belinda ? he asked himself. A sexy little girl in woman’s clothing .
A girl who traded the lives of her kids for a fast poke from the neighbor while her husband was fighting a war a thousand miles away .
Too young. Too spoiled .
Too weak .
But I married her, and my kids paid
With an intensity Hunter could barely shield, hewatched the expressions chase across Elyssa’s face—sadness for the dead mare, pleasure in the foal, amusement at his attempts to stand, and above all, love for the dangerous stud who was standing half-asleep beneath her gentle hands.
Belinda never liked animals , Hunter realized. Not like this. Belinda chose a horse for its color and a cat because it matched her trousseau. I thought it was amusing, then .
Judas Priest, but I was stupid .
Still am .
Otherwise I wouldn’t be getting hard just watching a flirt groom a horse .
“What did you feed him?” Hunter asked, his voice almost rough. “Sugar mash?”
“We had a cow that was fresh, because my mother loved butter and cheese. Penny and I rigged a bottle of sorts. At first, Leopard wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”
The stud shifted his weight. He turned his head and lipped at a strand of long, pale hair that had escaped from Elyssa’s hastily made chignon.
Without breaking the easy rhythm of the grooming, she tucked the hair back out of reach.
Leopard stretched his neck and pulled the chignon apart with his agile lips.
Laughing, scolding Leopard gently, Elyssa balanced the brush on his spotted buttocks, swept up her hair in both hands, and knotted it at the back of her neck once more.
Hunter let out a slow, hidden breath. He tried to ignore the sudden heavy running of his blood. It would be a long time forgetting the sight of all that silky, flaxen hair tumbling wild and free down Elyssa’s sea-green dress.
And her hands, so quick and graceful.
What would it be like to have those hands all over me ? Hunter thought.
Then, savagely, I’m a fool for even thinking about it .
“That’s how I got Leopard to drink,” Elyssa said, picking up the brush once more.
Hunter made an encouraging sound. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew his voice would be too deep, too husky, rough with the force of the desire pouring through his body.
“I dipped a strand of hair in milk and tickled his lips with it,” Elyssa explained. “After a while, he got the idea and started sucking on the hair.”
Hunter looked at the big stud and tried to imagine him as a feeble colt. It was impossible.
“Within a few days I had him on a proper nipple,” Elyssa said, “but he never forgot. He loves to lip my hair, as though he expects milk and honey every time.”
Hunter said nothing. He was too busy thinking what it would feel like to pull apart the loose knot of the chignon and bury his face in Elyssa’s clean, sweet-scented hair.
And then he would reach beneath the silk to find even softer, sweeter flesh.
Elyssa would let me, just like she let me in the barn .
God, I’ve never had a woman respond like that, all in a rush, her breathing as sudden and ragged as mine .
Night after night, she would be a wildfire burning for me, hot and unrestrained. I would be the same for her, burning her all the way to her hungry, sensual soul .
A hidden shudder of desire went through Hunter as he thought about it…the girl and the night and the fire.
In one way, at least, Elyssa is different from Belinda. Belinda was calculating. Elyssa is too reckless to be wise .
Sex would be good with her. So damned good. Maybe even worth marrying for .
Hunter heard his own thoughts and went cold.
Haven’t I learned yet ? he asked himself scathingly. Did Ted and little Em die for nothing ?
Shocked and angered by his own unruly sexuality, Hunter faced again the consequences of having chosen the wrong girl as a wife, just because she made his blood run hot and wild.
How can I even think of shackling myself to another Belinda ? he asked himself. A sexy little girl in woman’s clothing .
A girl who traded the lives of her kids for a fast poke from the neighbor while her husband was fighting a war a thousand miles away .
Too young. Too spoiled .
Too weak .
But I married her, and my kids paid
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