Ross had drifted off to sleep with a muscled arm
thrown across Kara’s waist. She wondered if she could slide away from him without waking him up.
She eased forward, but his arm tightened around her and pulled her back against
him.
Near panic swept over her.
She couldn’t breathe! She had to move
away from him. This time she didn’t try to ease away. She pushed his arm away, and Ross turned over to his other side and freed her.
She pulled the covers around
her shoulders and wished he
hadn’t objected to her putting her nightgown back on after they’d made love. “I like the way you feel against me,” he'd whispered in her ear, so of course she'd left
it off.
She’d only been married a few hours and had already
learned a lot about her character. Unhappily, most of it was bad. She guessed she must have a lot of her
father in her. After all, what decent woman would behave the way she had with a virtual stranger? Hadn’t
she only been going out with Ross for a few weeks?
Her breath came faster now.
Maybe Ross thought she was a slut. She didn’t like that word, never had, but it sure did describe
her behavior. It made her cringe to think of the things she had begged him to
do. He’d whispered words
of endearment to her and treated her so gently and tenderly. Didn’t it bother him that his wife had moaned and bucked against him
like he was bull in
the barnyard?
She’d expected to find physical satisfaction in her
marriage, but not the wild, dark, burning waves which had swept over her and left her exhausted, sweaty, and shaken. Yes, undoubtedly her behavior
was a legacy from her unknown, deviant father, for even though she didn’t love Ross she knew one
thing; the thought of a repeat performance totally took her breath away.
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