by Avery Flynn
She stopped breathing. Heat and damp flooded her pussy; an itch building that grinding against Sam couldn't cure. Her need to feel him sliding between her slick folds hit her even harder than it had in Vegas.
Drawing on powers of self-denial she didn't even realize she had, Josie untangled her fingers from Sam's hair and slid one hand up the wall until she encountered the cool plastic light switch. By the time she flipped it on, he was licking the top of her collarbone and sending all kinds of tingling sensations across her skin. Her control flickered like a flame in the breeze. Usually a quick, hard fuck would be enough. Wham. Bam. Thank you man. But not tonight. Not with Sam.
Determined to draw out the anticipation, she pulled out of his embrace and took a few steps backwards. Taking in his living room and its matching beige couch and the identical silver lamps on the innocuous birch side tables, she flicked off her electric-blue heels—so out of place in this den of neutrals. Everywhere she turned were eggshell-colored walls. The only thing interrupting their perfect blandness was a large painting of McPherson's Bluff. Guilt rose as she stared at the reminder of her mission from Snips.
Her conscience struggled to be heard above the roar of lust, warning her to tell Sam the truth. All of it. Damn, she wanted to, but she had no doubt Snips would deliver on his promise to hurt her parents. She and Sam had declared a truce. This was just sex with a hot and willing partner. Nothing more.
“So are you going to offer me something to drink? Show me your etchings?”
“I have plenty to show you but it's not on paper.” He moved forward.
She stepped back.
Curious about how far she could push him, she popped open two buttons on her shirt, giving her boobs the breathing room they'd been dying for all night. “But I have an ongoing fantasy of putting you on canvas. Will you pose for me?”
“You know there's little I wouldn't agree to right now.” The hunger in his tawny eyes blazed as he stared at her tits.
Men staring at her chest had been a daily fact of life since she'd turned sixteen. Usually she didn’t have any response but annoyance. But not with Sam. Having his gaze glued to her boobs sent wave after wave of wanting through her. Pressing her arms together a bit, she pushed her flesh forward so her hard nipples barely stayed contained within her bra's leopard-print silk. Enjoying the mesmerized look on his face, she slipped a finger beneath the smooth material, warm from her overheated skin.
“So adventurous. Just how I like you.” Josie traced her finger across the tops of the curves capturing his attention.
“And what can I do for you right now?” He quirked an eyebrow.
Josie crossed the room and sat down on the plain couch, trying to ignore the wetness between her legs in favor of teasing him a bit longer. “Come over here and strip for me. Slow. I have to memorize each line and shadow. It's research, you know.”
He didn't move but his gaze flew to her face. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”
“Come on, Sam, stop hiding behind that stuffy professor image you've locked yourself into. We both know it's a load of shit. You can be yourself with me.”
He hesitated a moment longer, then pushed off the door and strode over to the couch, an intensity in his eyes that had Josie wondering what she'd just gotten herself into. Without saying anything, he slipped a button on his shirt through the buttonhole.
“Is this what you want?” He made quick work of his shirt, spreading it wide and showing off the kind of hard abs no history professor should have. “Should I stop here or go on?”
Mouth dry, she had trouble forming words so she just nodded her head. So much for being in control.
Sam's shirt dropped to the floor and his fingers rested against the button of his jeans but didn't pop it open. Pushed on by a need growing exponentially with every breath, Josie reached out for that button. Fuck the strip tease; she wanted that cock of his inside her.
He pushed her hand aside. “Uh, uh, uh. No touching the talent.” A very unprofessor-like grin curled his lips.
Looks like she'd created a monster. “So that's how it's going to be?”
“Yep.” He flipped off his shoes and popped open his fly.
The brief glimpse of white cotton vaporized any thought beyond getting to see more.
She gnawed on her bottom lip, mentally begging Sam to hurry it up. Slow? What the fuck had she been thinking when she'd made that request?
He hooked his fingers into his waistband. “Sure you're ready for this?”
Josie gulped and nodded her head. Her pussy ached from unsatisfied wanting and the temptation to drop to her knees, put her mouth level with that white cotton, nearly overwhelmed her.
The moment before her restraint snapped, his jeans slid down his muscular thighs. His hard cock pointed straight at her but remained hidden behind that damn cotton.
“Your turn.” His voice barely louder than a harsh whisper screamed out to the desperate need burning Josie's skin, tightening her nipples and making her clit throb.
“For what?”
“I didn't get to look my fill in Vegas, if it's even possible to.” He pulled her up from the couch. “Stand here.”
Josie stepped onto the oval birch coffee table, but instead of sitting, he stayed close, reaching up to one of the few buttons still holding her shirt closed. His fingers rested there for a moment and he tugged her so she bent forward and his lips were millimeters from the upper curve of her full breasts. His breath whispered against her, but he didn't touch.
Heat swirled through her body—she needed to be fucked now.
No. She needed to be fucked by Sam now. Josie thought she'd explode if he didn't touch her soon,
“God, you smell so good. Do you know how much you've haunted me?” He licked the deep alley between her full breasts. “Now I want more.”
“Lucky you.” Her attempt at sultry came out a breathy whisper. “You can have all you want tonight.”
“Only tonight?”
“Who knows how long this truce will last?” She traced a finger down the two-inch scar tearing a jagged path across his cheekbone.
“I can promise you now, tonight will not be enough for me.” His hands spread open her shirt and pushed it down her arms. As it fell to the table, he bent forward, his face traveling south, kissing her stomach and spending time tracing her bellybutton.
Her knees weakened and he tightened his grip on her hips, holding her firm.
The world grew hazy as her endorphins pulled her higher. She'd broken a lot of rules in her life, but always those set by other people. By being with Sam again she was breaking one of her own. One and done. But at the moment she didn't give a damn.
The button of her jeans snapped open and he peeled them off of her, following the path of newly exposed flesh with his exploring mouth. Across her right hip. Down the side of her thigh. He stroked the back of her knee, the tickle barely registering in comparison to the heat building between her legs. She didn't know whether to be happy or pissed off that she was wearing panties. At least the tiny swath of fabric matched her bra. Why that mattered, she didn't know, but she knew Sam would appreciate the coordination. And for some strange reason that mattered to her.
As she stepped out of her jeans, Sam worked his way back up her opposite leg, this time kissing and nibbling and licking up the inside of her leg. By the time his mouth was tantalizingly close to her wet pussy, her moans filled the silence of his living room. Josie threaded her fingers through his smooth hair, guiding him toward the juncture of her thighs. When his head failed to move any closer she almost wept in frustration.
“Getting impatient?” His hot breath brushed against her sensitive clit as if she wasn't wearing any panties.
Sam grasped her full hips in his hands and licked the silk material between her legs. At that point, her knees did give out and only his strong fingers around her hips kept her from tumbling off the coffee table. The sound of her panting filled the air as she lost herself in the onslaught of sensation. God, t
he man undid her and almost made her forget for a heartbeat why she never came back for seconds.
“Enough, Sam.” She stepped onto the floor, the Berber carpet rough against her bare feet.
God, he looked delicious standing there in his crisp white underwear. Instead of the muscled bulk of most of her lovers, he had a runner's physique, thin but strong with well-defined abs that didn't require hours in the gym every day. No. He had better things to do than just hone his body, and that turned her on more than a set of six-pack abs ever could. The sexiest thing about Sam was between his ears—not that the hard shaft between his legs was anything to shrug at.
She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth before claiming his lips, sliding her tongue along his. The deliciousness of the moment nearly undid her and she had to pull away.
“What are you thinking?” His shoulders tensed.
“That a girl could get used to fucking you on a regular basis.”
He laughed. “Thank God, I thought you'd changed your mind.”
“Not about this.”
She reached around and unhooked her bra's clasps, letting it drop to the floor. Her breasts, heavy with wanting, tingled with newfound freedom. Her panties hit the floor next. Josie hooked her fingers into his waistband and whipped his underwear down his legs, kneeling in front of him so his cock was at mouth level. She slid the head across her lips, his precum wetting them, before licking from the base to the tip with one lap. Salt, soap and heaven mixed together on the tip of her tongue as she opened her mouth for him.
“Fuck, Josie, you—” Whatever else he'd planned on saying was lost in a moan made of equal parts bliss and torture.
Slow and deliberate, her mouth traveled up and down his shaft setting the pace for what she planned to be a long evening. Nothing else existed right now except for them, and God knew, she'd always appreciate Sam for giving her that. She hoped he'd feel the same after the search for Rebecca's Bounty was over.
Too soon, he stepped back, leaving her hungry to taste more of him.
Josie stood up and sashayed the few steps to where he stood. “Don't tell me you're changing your mind now.”
He laughed, but there wasn't any humor in the sound. Instead it was more an animal growl that skittered down her spine and made her entire body throb. At that moment, she knew sex with Sam would never be just a fun way to get off. Already her body called out for him like the roulette wheel beckoned the hopeless gambler.
“Come here.” He sat down on the ottoman.
Determined not to lose herself completely in Sam, Josie hesitated to regain her mental footing, then grabbed her purse from the floor. She popped the magnetic latch and fished around inside until her fingers contacted the foil square. Prize acquired, she dropped her bag and strutted over to the ottoman.
When Josie moved to sit astride him, he caught her hips. “No, stay right there.”
That magic mouth of his went to work on her sweetest spot, his tongue and lips swirling around her clit as two fingers slipped inside her hot slit and rubbed against her G-spot in a rhythm so unhurried, it bordered on cruelty. In and out he worked as she straddled the peak between anticipation and orgasm, unable to fall back or leap forward. Her thighs began to shake as he continued, increasing the pressure inside and outside of her. Needing to steady herself, she tangled her fingers in his hair and begged for release in a tone so desperate she barely recognized it as her own. And that was when he said something, he words muffled so she couldn't understand, but the vibrations of his voice rubbing against her provided that extra push. Everything faded to black all around her a split second before her entire body tensed with a climax that obliterated her bones.
Coming down a moment later, Josie tried to catch her breath. As the blackness dissolved, it was Sam's face she saw first. The tantalizing mouth, slick with evidence of her desire. That little scar on his cheekbone, flushed with color. Those hazel eyes with the golden flecks. His usual shield of coolness was gone, revealing his hungry, adventurous soul.
He ripped the condom wrapper open and unrolled the latex down his thick cock. Watching his hands wrap around himself had Josie squirming as if she hadn't just had a body-melting orgasm.
Her heart hiccupped, but she refused to drop her own defenses enough to wonder why. She'd run far enough out of her comfort zone already tonight. Instead, she lowered her body to his, sheathing his hard cock inside her.
His large hands held her ass, rocking her hips forward, and she lowered herself to meet his thrusts again and again. She arched her back, bending like a bow, pleasure making her quiver. Moving one hand from his knee, she cupped his balls, squeezing lightly, his appreciative moan sending a shiver down her spine.
Just when she thought she'd regained control, Sam slid his hand around and his thumb found her clit, which he pressed in the same quick-quick-slow tempo as the two-step they'd danced at Robidoux Roadhouse. The world exploded around her again and her hips rocketed forward, coming down hard on his cock as the orgasm ripped through her. A few thrusts later and his climax followed.
They sat there for a few minutes with her legs wrapped around his waist and his head resting on her shoulder.
A tightness clamped down on Josie's lungs and a lump threatened to block her throat. Closing her eyes, she locked her jaw and fought to stop the release of emotion.
Damn. Now she wanted more than a single night, but her secrets dangled over her head, ready to drop and shred her happiness at any moment.
“You are amazing.” Sam's words tickled her collarbone.
Gulping past the lump, she banished the waterworks with the aid of years or practice. “You're no slouch yourself.”
Without disentangling her from around him, Sam stood up and carried Josie to his room. There, they lay down in his king-size bed and snuggled under the tan comforter.
Chapter Ten
Sam's chest hair tickled Josie's nose and she blinked the dryness out of her formerly closed eyes. In the pitch dark of his bedroom, she couldn't see anything, only feel. And that was enough. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the natural pocket where his shoulder met his chest, which just happened to be the perfect size for her head.
His calm, deep breathing made her eyes droop as her lungs moved in time with his. She needed to find her jeans and beat feet out of here, but she ignored the nagging voice of reason. A couple of more minutes to soak this up and then she'd force herself away from Sam's welcoming body, out of his warm bed, and head back to her studio cabin on the edge of town with its scratchy floral comforter and blinking fluorescent bathroom light. Her eyes closed completely and she flung her leg across Sam's thigh. Five more minutes.
A creak sounded across the hall and Josie's eyes fluttered open. A subtle pop echoed in the dark and she woke completely, every sense on alert.
Straining her ears, she picked up on the shuffle of feet against tile.
Snips?
His muscle from Vegas?
Her body tensed and her heart raced. She held her breath for what seemed like an eternity, waiting, dreading what she'd hear next until she couldn't stand the burning in her chest any longer.
Josie unwound her body from Sam's and brought her lips to his ear. “Sam, wake up. I think someone's here.”
“Old house,” he mumbled and rolled away from her.
“No.” She poked him in the kidney. “Someone is here.”
He didn't say anything, but he turned onto his back, eyes opened, and stared at the ceiling. A series of muffled thunks and bangs filtered into the bedroom. When she opened her mouth, he silenced her with a shake of his head.
They sat like that as the tree branches scraped against the window, pushed by the gathering wind outside, but no other noises sounded in the dark. Maybe she'd been wrong. It was an old house. A cute bungalow, but still an old house. Hell, it could be her subconscious pushing her to get the fuck out of bed. It was about time she listened to that instead of made-up noises.
Annoyed with herself, she sat up and to
ssed the comforter off her body. At the same moment her feet hit the floor, a short series of thumps blared in the silence.
Sam bounded out of bed. “Stay here.”
“No, Sam, wait. It's Snips.” She wrapped her fingers around his forearm, his muscles tensing under her touch.
Another thunk echoed down the hall.
“Stay here.”
Before she could blink, he crept out the door and into the hall.
“Yeah, like that is going to happen,” she muttered. Lickity fast, she grabbed one of Sam's T-shirts from a chair and pulled it over her head before following him into the dark hallway.
Ignoring the ice-cold tiles, she tiptoed to where Sam stood outside a closed door. Light filtered out through the crack between the door and the floor.
He shot her a dirty look before jabbing a finger in her direction and then pointed it toward the floor.
She gave him a hand signal too, one of the middle-finger, single-digit variety.
A vein throbbed at his temple, but he turned his attention back to the door.
She didn't hear any more noises, but with the blood rushing like white-water rapids through her ears, she didn't take that to mean the invader had left. Nerves strung tight, she flexed her fingers, hoping to ease the adrenaline pounding through her system.
Tension radiated off of Sam as he reached toward the brass doorknob.
His fingers wrapped around it and he slowly rotated to the right.
The light under the door blinked out.
Sam pushed the door open with a whoosh and stormed into the darkened room.
Josie swallowed her scream.
A whump echoed in the room, followed by a thump and a crack. Two shadows grappled, silhouetted against the bay window. One crashed to the floor.
Breaking out of her brain freeze, Josie slapped her hand against the wall until she contacted the switch. Light flooded the room.
A pitiful mewling cry emanated from a man curled into the fetal position on the floor. Latex-glove-covered hands shielded his eyes as he sat up.