NEXT TO ME (A Love Happens Novel Book 1)

by Watters, Jodi

  “It’s red,” he said with a shrug, walking around the island and handing her the bottle of Cabernet, her sky blue eyes widening as he reached his hand out and ran it along a soft lock of long hair, where it curled down to lay against her chest. “Pretty.”

  “Thanks,” she whispered, both to the gift and the compliment, as she placed the wine in a rack alongside several others, her hand a little unsteady. “Color doesn’t matter to me. If it’s wine, then I’ll drink it.”

  Sam didn’t move, hovering in the space she had just occupied, her reaction to him fascinating. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a woman nervous. The vipers he seemed to attract always went straight for the jugular.

  “I have a vast array of beer for you to choose from. A plethora, really.” She ticked them off on her hand. “Light, lager or ale. Blonde, dark, or fruit flavored. Did you know that they sell beer flavored ice cream in Germany? And that a beer enthusiast is called a cerevisaphile?”

  Skittish to confident in a matter of seconds? Yeah, this girl was going to be trouble.

  Nodding at the pale ale she held out to him, he twisted the cap off and tossed it on the counter. “I don’t think I want to be known as anything ending in phile. But I could get on board with the ice cream.”

  Making a face, she motioned him to the sofa, glass of wine in her hand as she settled on the opposite end from him. They watched in silence as Pete circled a spot on the sisal area rug next to them before lying down, asleep within seconds.

  “So,” her lips twisted. “I feel like I should say... how was your day, dear?”

  He grinned. “Same as they usually are. Busy with a little bit of bullshit. Yours?”

  She made a non-committal sound that meant fine. “What is it that you do?”

  It was a classic deflection and one Sam had used himself many times but he played along, telling her about his company and waiting for her eyes to glaze over, something he was used to seeing, given his usual airheaded evening companions. But Ali listened intently, nodding and commenting when appropriate, and it made him ridiculously happy to think she was actually interested. And when they went through the routine question and answer session that usually took place on a first date, his hot new neighbor continued to listen more than she talked, reluctantly telling him she grew up in Chicago before going to school in Michigan, where she had remained after college until the hope of never seeing snow again had brought her to the West Coast. Oh, and she preferred steak over fish, baseball over ballet, and peanut butter without jelly.

  Those were the only details Ali seemed willing to give up.

  Fully aware that she was intentionally skimming the surface, Sam didn’t push her for any more information, letting her keep her emotional distance. If this thing between them, this crazy fucking pull he felt towards her, went any deeper than the physical, though, all bets were off.

  And then the enchanting mystery that was Ali Ross grew when he asked her what she did for a living, thinking that it must pay pretty goddamn well, considering the cost of this house.

  Pausing, she assessed him thoughtfully before answering. “I write true crime books. Mostly modern day, sensationalized cases about the really grisly stuff. Murder, torture, rape kind of thing.” She shrugged, as if talking about the weather. “The more high-profile, gruesome and graphic the crimes, the more the public wants the details.”

  His brows shot up in shock. “No shit?”

  Ali laughed. “No shit.”

  “Do you actually talk to them? Meet them? The people who’ve committed these crimes.”

  “If they’re still alive. And if they’ll speak with me. Sometimes I can only get phone interviews, but I prefer to meet them face to face, if possible. It depends on the state the crime was committed in and the judge who handed down the sentence. Or the prison warden, in some cases. The rules in place for television media apply to print, as well. But, then there’s always eyewitness accounts, family members, attorneys and law enforcement.”

  The woman just got better and better. “It doesn’t bother you? Or scare you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know,” he gestured with his hand, “to meet somebody like that in person. Have an actual conversation with someone who committed such a heinous act. It’s more than just being creepy or crazy, they’re inherently bad people.”

  Something flickered in her eyes, but she blinked it away before shaking her head. “There are inherently bad people all around us, Sam. They don’t always go to jail.”

  A fact he was well aware of. “You are a fascinating girl, Ali. Ever been married?”

  Taken aback, she stared at him in surprise, as if searching for the right answer. Her reaction sent a lightning quick premonition through him that not only had she been married, she might very well still be. The thought made his gut tighten.

  Looking somewhere over his shoulder, she shook her head. “No. You?”

  Thank fucking God. “No. My sister thinks I should join an online dating site. I told her it would have to be the cougar one, not the Christian one and she hasn’t brought it up since. I’m not opposed to it, though. The getting married part.” And why the fuck did he just tell her that?

  Laughing, Ali walked to the kitchen and he followed, grabbing another beer while she refilled her wine. “Better be careful, Sam. Say that any louder and you’ll have a hundred single women breaking down the door and stampeding through my living room, demanding to be the first in line. I’ll never get the smell of desperation mixed with expensive perfume to go away.”

  Sam shuddered at the thought, having fended off a few women exactly like that in the past. “Are you saying you don’t have them lining up? If you snapped your fingers right now, wouldn’t some Ken doll look-a-like come running?”

  “Oh, please!” She looked genuinely offended before her voice turned whimsy. “I was always more of a G.I. Joe kind of girl. Ken has a certain, I don’t know...” her cute nose wrinkled as she searched for the right words, “unsoiled look about him. I knew from an early age he would never get as dirty with me as I needed him to. And I don’t fight for space in front of the mirror with anyone. Especially a man.”

  Well, this was a goddamn first for Sam. The semi he’d been sporting since touching her hair and smelling her sweet vanilla scent was nearly at full hard-on status and she’d been talking about a fucking doll.

  “Although he does have those amazingly well-defined grooves on the inside of his hips. I don’t know what they’re called, but they make smart girls stupid. You know the ones I’m talking about? Those muscular ridges that framed his—”

  “I know,” Sam growled, quickly invading her space. Chest to chest, he backed her up until she was trapped against the island, his arms wrapping around her as he flattened his palms against the cold granite. “I can show you mine.”

  Her startled whimper was muffled as he brought his mouth down, sealing his lips over hers softly, holding himself back when what he really wanted to do was go at her hard and fast. Taking his sweet time, he rubbed his mouth against hers slowly, teasingly, politely asking for permission with the flick of his tongue over her plump bottom lip. He got what he wanted and she opened up, granting him access. Kissing her deeply, he groaned when her tongue met his, timid at first then bolder, sweeping greedily against his own as she fought him for control.

  She tasted like wine and temptation, and like no woman he had ever kissed before.

  “Jesus, you taste good.” He broke away long enough to band an arm around her waist, lifting her up until her sweet ass hit the countertop, pulling her close to the edge and letting her feel exactly what she did to him.

  Her quickened breath was warm against his mouth, her blue eyes shining brightly as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, brushing her mound against him and tugging up the hem of his t-shirt. Running her hands along the hot skin of his back, she tracked the line of his spine down, then dipped her fingers down into the back of his waistband, the simple t
ouch making his head spin. Roughly threading his fingers through her hair, he pushed the silky strands off her flushed face and took her mouth with a fierceness that was beyond appropriate for a first date—if that’s what this even was—but Sam was past the point of caring. His tongue tangled with hers and he sipped at her lips as he reached for the hem of her loose top, tearing his mouth from hers only long enough to sweep the shirt up and over her head.

  “Now you,” Ali said, sounding breathless as she dragged his t-shirt up his back, her fingernails leaving a path that singed his nerve endings and fueled his need.

  He yanked it off with one hand, while the other traced the lacy edge of her delicate, purple polka dot bra. Sam had no idea how the hell that skimpy thing was holding up those luscious tits and he couldn’t stop himself from staring, marveling at the wonder of physics. Her nipples were hard, begging for attention, and he swiped his tongue across one satin covered tip. She bucked against him in response, rubbing herself along his denim covered erection. A heartbeat later, he had the bra unhooked and was pulling it forward when he felt her fingers tugging at the button fly of his jeans, grazing the hard length of his cock. Letting out a choked groan, he reached down to still her hands. The disheveled sight of her—messy hair, flushed cheeks and a funky purple bra that barely covered her tempting nipples—made him even harder. And she wasn’t even completely naked yet.

  “This is fast, Ali. Probably too fast.” He rested his forehead against hers, her smile turning wicked as he continued, “Are you okay with that? Because we’re almost at the point of no return here, babe.”

  “I hope I don’t sound too forward,” she nipped at his upper lip, her tongue darting out to lick the sting away, “or slutty,” she grinned, popping open the top button on his jeans, “when I say... take off your pants, Sam.”

  Her bra hit the floor a second later, his breath exhaling on a groan as his lips closed over a pretty pink nipple, sucking her strongly into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the bullet hard berry. She was miles away from slutty. In his opinion, she was fan-fucking-tastic.

  Ali’s moan was loud in the quiet house and her hands moved from his fly to his head, her fingers spreading through his hair as he moved from one lushly plump breast to the other, the feel of her hardened tips on his tongue making his balls tighten. Sliding his hand over the soft skin of her bare thigh, he slipped his fingers under the loose hem of her shorts and toward her heat, feeling only a hint of the hot, silky wetness through the thin barrier of her panties.

  “We need a bed.” The words were clipped as he took a half step back. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on your kitchen counter.”

  Lust crazed and a little out of control, the skilled and deliberate moves Sam usually relied on were gone. If he wasn’t inside her soon, this was going to be embarrassing. He hadn’t come in his pants simply from feeling a girl up—and down—since high school.

  “Upstairs.” Ali’s voice was a breathless whisper as she slid off the island, her heated gaze skirting over the front of his jeans and making his cock twitch. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the staircase. “Sam, wait.”

  She was kidding, right? “What, babe?”

  “The doors are open.” She tugged on her hand where he held it in a tight grip, slowing his steps as he single-mindedly headed toward a bed. “I have to shut them. I have to.”

  Not trusting her to move fast enough, he released her and made quick work of closing the doors, clicking the lock into place and blowing out the cluster of lit candles on the table as he walked by. It took him eight seconds.

  “Set the alarm,” she whispered urgently.

  Christ, she was killing him. “Ali, the whole fucking Marine Corp could march in here tonight and you’re not gonna know it. You and I will be busy.”

  But he tapped the few buttons necessary to engage the system anyway, not thinking twice about the familiar model, before dragging her up the stairs to the master bedroom. He was too far gone to notice his own company’s logo on the inside of the raised cover plate.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  His mouth should be illegal. And his hands, too, because once Sam put the moves on a woman, she didn’t stand a chance. The man could make an unwavering nun question her commitment to God simply by telling her the habit she wore was pretty. Not that Ali was complaining. He’d walked into her house tonight, his hair damp and his skin smelling like musk and peppermint, and Ali had wanted to jump his bones right then and there. And afterward, when they were both sweaty and out of breath, she wanted to crawl into his lap, bury her face in his spicy smelling neck and pretend he was her future.

  For real.

  But for now, she would have to make do by staring at his naked chest, taking in all that gloriously tanned skin pulled tight over hard muscle as he knelt between her legs and lavished her with attention. He was the most gorgeous man Ali had ever been with, certainly the best looking one she’d ever seen naked, and it was slightly intimidating to think of all the glamorous and stunning woman Sam had probably slept with in his life. More experienced, more skilled, more centerfold quality than she could ever hope to be. But right now, he was in her bed. And for this moment, he belonged to her. Closing her eyes and pushing away the negative thoughts, she focused on the incredible feelings coursing through her entire body, thanks to this man.

  Sam had unceremoniously pushed her down on her lavender cashmere coverlet and crawled over top of her, the weight of his big body held up by arms displaying a seriously fine set of guns.

  “You are so beautiful.” His gray eyes were focused on her bare breasts, his fingers plucking her sensitive nipples before he dipped his head to lick and suckle. “So pretty.”

  Ali felt an answering tug down low, where his other hand was slowly unbuttoning her shorts, and she propped herself up on an elbow, reaching down to help him.

  “Hurry.” The plea left her lips on a whispered moan as he sucked deeply. “And didn’t I tell you to take your pants off already.”

  Nipping sharply at her, the bite sending another gush of moisture where she wanted him most, he sipped at her breasts a beat longer before sitting back with a grin. “So bossy, Ali-cat.”

  The sound of her zipper was music to her ears and she pushed while he pulled, taking her shorts and thong panties off in one fell swoop. She felt his gaze move over her neatly trimmed triangle like a hot caress and it made all the pain from the bikini wax she’d endured last week worth it. He reached out, stroking his fingers through her wetness slowly, circling and teasing as she arched up into his hand, closing her eyes and whimpering against the back of her hand.

  “God, you’re hot. So pretty here, too,” Sam whispered reverently, as his fingers pressed deeper, harder. “I want you so much.”

  She felt his breath on her as he said the words, his tongue sweeping against her bare folds before her brain could register what he was about to do. Surprised, she moaned involuntarily and threaded her fingers through his hair, the feel of his talented mouth pleasuring her far better than her best fantasy. There was no haphazard stabs of the tongue and rapid, rushed movements. It was more like a window steaming, flawlessly thorough make-out session between him and her... happy place. Sam took his sweet time, savoring her with the slow lash of his tongue and firm strokes of his fingers, making her impossibly hotter, wetter with every swipe. And until this very moment, she never knew that the sound of sex was just as erotic as the feel of it.

  All too quickly, Ali felt the delicious throbbing intensify, peaking as a hot wave of pleasure rolled through her body in pulses. Her cries were long and loud, enough so that she would be embarrassed come tomorrow morning, as he sent her over the edge.

  “Christ, Ali.” Placing wet, open mouth kisses along the inside of her thigh, Sam stood up, a flush riding high on his cheekbones. “You make me fucking crazy.”

  While she tried to catch her breath and remember her name, Sam reached for his partially unbuttoned fly, wincing slightly as he released the most i
mpressive erection she’d ever seen. It matched the rest of him, big and strong and beautiful. There was no modesty in the way he kicked off his jeans and black boxer briefs, his body a near perfect specimen of the male form, his desire for her blatantly obvious. And Ali intended to have her way with him. Starting with his broad shoulders, she wanted to run her tongue along the dark, curved lines of the unusual—and sexy as hell—tattoo covering the left side of his upper body, then down over his rippled abdomen, kissing every tight ridge before she traced the delicious trail of dark hair as it swirled down past his flat navel. And then she wanted to take him into her mouth, tasting and licking and sucking until he declared his undying love for her.

  “Next time, babe. I’m too close.” The man could read her mind.

  His knee hit the bed and he grabbed her ankles, pushing her legs open as he came down over top of her, settling in between her thighs.

  Running her hands over his sculpted chest, Ali scraped his flat nipple with a fingernail before reaching down to grip his heavy erection. Tasting herself in his carnal kiss, she stroked him from base to tip, softly at first then firmer, rubbing her palm over the thick head. His choking growl encouraged her, and she guided him to her entrance, desperate to have him high and hard inside her.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, pulling back at the very last second despite Ali’s loud whimper of protest. “Condom.”

  Fuck, she silently echoed, motioning toward the nightstand. “Top drawer.”

  Sam reached over and whipped open the drawer, rifling around, whispering a few more choice curse words before pulling out the whole box. It was still sealed.

  Attacking it like a kid on Christmas morning, he said, “Does it make me a sexist pig that I’m happy as hell you have condoms, but fucking jealous at the same time? I’m taking solace in the fact that this is unopened.”