Home to Me

by LaVerne Clark

  Snapping back to reality, she realized how close they sat together and tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her. She stiffened, pushing at his chest, and he glanced down, his expression quizzical. Something in her face must have alerted him to her building tension because he loosened his hold. His gaze, warm and engaging, waited for her answer, watching her closely.

  Slowly, she became aware of the heat from his body radiating into hers. From solid chest to muscled thigh, he was like a furnace warming her chilled bones, and all she wanted to do was sink into his heat. Before the desire to do so swallowed the rest of her pride, she sat up and held herself aloof. The last thing she wanted from Sam was pity.

  “Why would I think that? Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because I’ve always repulsed you?” An underlying shadow of bitterness edged her response, and she bit on her thumbnail, hoping he hadn’t heard it, but she’d never been that lucky.

  The humor dropped from his expression in a nanosecond, a frown replacing it. “Repulsed me…?” His lips flattened, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a sharp breath. “God, Lucy. Where do you get these ideas from?”

  Lucy’s brows shot up at the hurt in his voice. He was upset? Angry, she pushed away from him, and this time he let her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You never had to say the actual words, Sam. You were always pretty good at spelling it out for me.”

  “Well then, if that was the answer you came up with, you weren’t putting the letters in the right order.”

  “Unbelievable. How can you say that?” she scoffed. “Every time I came near you, you’d put on that bored, blank face of yours. I hated that face. And at Jordan’s funeral, when I kissed you, you practically shoved me away as if you couldn’t get rid of me soon enough. I can still hear the disgust in your voice when you told me ‘no.’ ”

  “Disgust?” He gave a humorless laugh. “Hell, Lucy, you couldn’t be more wrong. Allow me to set the record straight. If I hadn’t pushed you away when I did, you would have felt for yourself just how far from disgust I was actually feeling.”

  Her eyes widened. Surely he couldn’t mean what she thought he meant? Her stomach fluttered, and she swallowed nervously.

  “Yeah, that’s right.” His eyes glittered dangerously, and her stomach went into freefall at the raw sound to his voice. “I was far from disgusted—with you anyway. But I was furious with myself.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving strands sticking up all over his head. “It was my best mate’s final farewell, a guy I thought of as a brother, and there I was having dirty thoughts and pawing his little sister. The very one I’d sworn to protect if he wasn’t around.” Eyes darkened with pain met hers. “He hadn’t even been in the ground ten minutes, and I’d already broken his trust.”

  She blinked as the world as she knew it tilted on its axis. After all those years, could she really have read the situation so completely wrong? “It wasn’t your fault, Sam. Emotions were high, and I’d thrown myself at you after you’d come to find me after running off. What were you meant to do?”

  “Keep my hands to myself that’s what, instead of letting it get out of hand. It was a selfish moment and one I’m not proud of. And then I made it worse by hurting you. It kills me to know that I did.”

  Lucy bit her lip as tears pricked her eyes. “So it wasn’t because you couldn’t bear to be around me, then?”

  His laugh was a strangled sound in his throat. “No, brat. That part you got right.”

  She swallowed the gasp of pain his words caused and waited, even though everything inside her wanted to weep. The tension in every line of his body told her there was more to come.

  When he continued, his voice had deepened into a sultry growl. “I tried to keep you at a distance because I couldn’t trust myself around you. Everything in me screamed to taste you again, to ignite the passion I suspected would explode under my touch after that brief encounter. I wanted that more than I wanted my next breath.” He broke off and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, his voice was once again under control. “But I couldn’t. You were Jordan’s little sister and off-limits. The best thing to do—the only thing—was keep my distance.”

  Silence, hot and heavy, blanketed the room after his confession, and Lucy shut her mouth with a snap. Waves of heat curled through her body, prickling her skin. Her nipples tightened, pushing against the fabric of her shirt. Sam’s gaze dropped to the betraying reaction. When he lifted his gaze to hers, she shivered. Dilated pupils had turned his silvered eyes almost black. She didn’t know if she were excited or terrified that he was finally looking at her like that.

  His hand lifted, his forearm brushing against the outer swell of her breast on its way to cup her jaw. “But staying away only kept you safe from me, not the other animals out there. I won’t chance anyone hurting you again. And this time, I can and will prevent it.”

  His eyes grew heavy-lidded as he lifted her chin, bringing their mouths closer until they were just a breath apart. Was he going to kiss her? She caught and held her breath, the sweet suspense making her heart leap into her throat.

  With a wicked grin, he lowered his head and bypassed her tingling lips. Her huff of disappointment turned into a breathy sigh when he nuzzled her neck instead. At the feel of his mouth on her skin, she closed her eyes, automatically tilting her head to give him access as his lips travelled in a slow sensual path to her ear. Warm puffs of breath lifted the fine hair at her nape, and she shivered as her limbs weakened in response.

  “I think you’re far from frigid, Lucy. You just need someone to show you.” His whisper was a low growl. A hot lick to her earlobe followed the statement, sending already heightened senses into overdrive. Her eyes popped open, and a groan slipped from her lips.

  The heat from his body beckoned her closer, to recognize and submit to her body’s needs. To straddle him and press her aching center to the impressive bulge in his lap. For a few precious seconds, she teetered on the edge, her body urging her brain to let go and surrender, to overcome the paralyzing fear that was her constant companion. Before she could act on the alien feeling, he moved away, leaving her skin cooling at the loss of his heat.

  “Wha—” Dazed, she blinked back to full awareness and fought through the lethargy lingering in her veins. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to grimace as the action brushed erect nipples. God, they ached. Instinct told her they’d feel better if he’d cover them with his hands. His eyes darkened even more as if he could read her thoughts, and she glared at him to cover the reaction. “I didn’t peg you for a tease, Samuel Merrick. Why did you stop?”

  “Don’t worry, brat, we’ve got all the time in the world. I just don’t want you to have any excuses or regrets. And I want to make certain you’re ready for this step. There’ll be no blaming whatever happens between us on alcohol.”

  She snorted. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  His face was the picture of skepticism. He didn’t speak, but then he didn’t need to, just sat there staring at her, one eyebrow raised, his arms crossed over that impressive chest. Her fingers itched to explore the intriguing dips and bulges that lay underneath his shirt. The years they’d been apart had only improved the man. She still struggled to compute that she might actually get to see the improvements in the flesh, to feel those muscles under her fingertips, and soon.

  “Okay, I might,” she conceded. “You know, it’s not fair you know me so well.”

  He chuffed out a laugh. “More like, lucky that I do.” In one smooth movement, he stood and held his hand out to her. “Come on. I’d better get you home. You need your sleep. We’ve got plans, starting tomorrow.”

  Placing her hand in his, she let him pull her up, wariness entering her tone. “What kind of plans? Will I like them?”

  A slow, wicked smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, and she blushed as her imagination took flight. “Oh, yeah. I’m betting you’re going to love them.” Without further comment, he rested a
firm hand on the small of her back and guided her out the door.

  A new and alien tension hummed at a low frequency between them on the silent drive home. Not uncomfortable, it was nevertheless noticeable. Taking the opportunity while he concentrated on the road, Lucy snuck peeks at Sam’s profile and repressed a sigh. He was so beautiful.

  Long fingers loosely gripped the steering wheel, his thumb stroking the leather. Square, clean nails gave no hint to the fact he spent most of his day outside working with earth and heavy machinery. The only clues to his profession were the calluses on his hands and the year-round tan he sported.

  Captivated by the mesmerizing motion of his thumb rubbing over the wheel, her mind veered off, imagining it rubbing against her skin. What would the rough texture of his fingers feel like on her body? How would he touch her? Slow and gentle, or firm with barely-leashed control? Hot darts of arousal shot through her belly, ending in damp heat between her legs. God, who was she kidding? It didn’t matter how he touched her, just so long as he did.

  She shifted uncomfortably and squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache that was slowly becoming unbearable. What had he done to her? Perhaps he was right to end the evening after all. It seemed the whiskey was having an effect. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she averted her face, hoping by the time they arrived home all traces of her uncharacteristic arousal would be gone.

  “Told you.” His voice breaking into her thoughts made her whip her head around. The slow grin told her he’d noticed the restless movements of her body. “You’re not frigid at all.”

  ****

  Sam wanted to punch something. The rage that had simmered from learning Lucy’s horror story had condensed into a thick soup in his belly until he’d seen her safely home, then the acrid taste had regurgitated, coating the whole of his mouth.

  She might say it was ancient history and actually believe it, but her reactions told a very different story. She wasn’t over it. Not by a long shot. She should have had counselling to help her deal with the aftermath, but knowing her as well as he did, no way in hell would she have contemplated unburdening herself to a stranger. It had obviously been hard enough to unload to him as it was.

  With great difficulty, he uncurled his fists, consciously ordering his fingers to loosen, and took a deep, steadying breath. That little bastard thought he’d gotten away with it. And why wouldn’t he? Three long years had gone by without repercussions, so as far as he was concerned, that chapter of his life was over. Little did he know the black moment of his life was yet to come, and Sam planned to make it as dark and as uncomfortable as he could.

  For the next couple of hours, Sam scoured the internet, looking for any mention of the prick. But all he managed to unearth was the basic facts Lucy had already told him. His father was indeed a highly ranked policeman, but Google wasn’t able to delve any further, deepening his frustration. The family probably knew what a little bastard their son was, and with their connections, had managed to keep his name out of the archives.

  Out of options, he opened up the search engine again to find someone who could help him get further, then picked up the phone.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy cracked open one eye and groaned. Her head felt as delicate as china. If she moved too quickly, she feared it would prove just as breakable. The sunlight streaming in through the crack between the curtains didn’t help matters. Slowly she became aware the frilly pillow squashed beneath her cheek was damp. With a superhuman effort, she raised a hand and swiped at the evidence of drool from the side of her face.

  “Ugh.” Grimacing, she eased to her back, one forearm pressed to her eyes, blocking out the light. If only she could slip back into the dream she’d been having. Sam had starred in it, doing all sorts of delicious things to her body. Her core pulsed with heat, and she squeezed her thighs together to ease it, then frowned as she remembered Sam catching her out doing exactly that in his car last night.

  Snippets from the night before came flooding back, and she cringed. But what had been real and what had been a dream? Or pure invention from an alcohol-addled brain? The one thing she knew for sure was she’d had too much to drink and embarrassed herself in front of Sam. Again. Maybe it was a blessing she couldn’t remember all of it.

  “Lucy,” her mother called, her voice floating up the stairs. “Sam is here.”

  Holy shit. Speak of the devil.

  “He says you have plans.”

  Plans? She bolted upright and groaned anew, her hands cradling her head to stop it rolling off her shoulders. Her stomach suddenly felt queasy, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. Just how much of last night wasn’t a dream? The blankets pooled around her hips, and air cooled her naked body. Ah, one memory was clear at least. After stumbling up the stairs, she’d crossed to her room and peeled off her clothes, desperate to escape the strange heat that had suffused her body. It had helped. Then without bothering to remove her makeup or even brush her teeth, she’d fallen into bed. No wonder her mouth tasted funky.

  “Lucy, love! Are you up? It’s almost ten o’clock.”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but her brain appeared to be incapable of stringing a sentence together. The low rumble of Sam’s voice sounded through the floorboards, sending hot sparks of longing to fizz through her, and her heart pounded, sending the blood to circulate faster, waking her up better than a shot of caffeine. And then she heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps jogging up the stairs, and her eyes widened in alarm.

  The door opened just as she dived back under the covers, pulling them up over her head. “Go away.”

  His low laugh felt like an intimate caress over every inch of her skin, and God help her, but every fine hair on her body stood up in response.

  “Phew. It smells like a brewery exploded in here. Come on, brat,” he demanded. “Get your butt out of bed. You’ll feel better once you get some fresh air and food into you.”

  At the mention of food, her stomach rebelled, and she let out an involuntary moan of misery. Then, horror of horrors, the duvet tore free from her hands.

  She grabbed desperately at the cover. “No, wait! Stop!” The cover slid down over her shoulders despite her best efforts. “I’m naked,” she gasped but too late and drew her legs up, arms hugging her knees as air whispered over her waist and hip.

  “Oh, shit.” He dropped the blanket as if it were a hot coal and averted his gaze, backing away from the bed while she scurried to right her modesty. “Sorry.”

  She yanked it back up to her chin, a headache pounding directly behind her eyeballs at the movement. Pushing herself against the headboard, she directed a glare at him, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt. At the look in his eyes and the smile he hadn’t totally succeeded in suppressing, she suspected she did.

  “What are you doing here anyway?”

  One dark brow rose, and he didn’t answer for a beat, his silver eyes glittering with an intense light. He sat down on the edge of her bed, his hip pressed against her thigh, and she shifted in discomfit, her cheeks flaming.

  “Have you forgotten our interesting conversation from last night already? I’m offended.”

  She frowned and massaged the spot between her brows, then dropped her forehead to her knees. “I don’t remember much after replacing the tequila with whiskey.” A desperate lie, but he didn’t have to know it. “That was the whole point of the night out.”

  Clucking his tongue, he shook his head. “You disappoint me, Lucy. I thought you were braver than that.”

  She jerked her head up to find his gaze fixed on her, amusement sparkling in his eyes. Recognizing she’d never get anything past him, she huffed out a sigh. Perhaps honesty was her best option after all, and it might have the added benefit of getting him out of her room quickly before she did something she regretted, like throwing the blanket off and wrapping him around her instead. “Okay, fine. Yes, I remember, but I was hoping you’d give me a bit of time to get used to the idea.”

>   “And give you the opportunity to chicken out?” He pried one hand from her grip on the blanket and lifted it to his lips. “Not a chance.” Warm breath misted over her skin, the touch of his mouth electrifying all the little nerves sitting just underneath. Just a little example of how their relationship had already changed.

  A pang clenched the muscles of her stomach as the yearning to get close to him picked up where it had left off last night. She hadn’t forgotten a thing from the moment she’d laid eyes on him again. He dropped her hand and stood abruptly. In a couple of strides, he faced her dressing table and opened a drawer, inspecting the contents.

  “What are you doing?”

  He pulled out a pair of track pants and a simple black shirt. “Finding you something to wear.” He dumped the clothes before her on the bed, then opened the top drawer and rummaged around. “You can’t go around naked, not that I’d mind one… Christ.”

  At the strangled sound he made, her gaze sharpened on his profile, her muscles bunched, ready to leap to his aid. “What is it? Are you okay?”

  From her vantage point, she watched color steal over his cheekbones. Following his line of sight, she saw he held small scraps of lace and silk. They looked even more delicate and feminine in his large hands. His Adam’s apple slid up and down, and she grinned. Who was she to pass up a chance to tease him back a little? Payback could be a bitch.

  “Be careful which set you choose, Sam. The black and purple is pretty, but I just about spill out of the bra, so it wouldn’t be so good if we’re doing anything physical. The deep red set, on the other hand, fits me like a glove, but the matching panties aren’t so practical if we’re going to be exerting ourselves. You’ll have to do a little more digging to find a pair with bottoms that aren’t a thong.”

  Sweat dotted his forehead, and his jaw looked set in concrete. “Don’t you have anything more practical, like cotton? Better yet, cotton Granny panties?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek at his strained expression. She could let him off the hook and tell him about the other drawer holding her plain underwear, but having him so uncomfortable and on edge proved too much fun. And the thought of wearing sexy underwear underneath the plain clothing he’d chosen, knowing he knew and would envision it, excited her.