by Jaci Burton
Last night had been the most incredible night of her life. Sam surprised her not only with his lovemaking, which admittedly was fantastic, but also his generous nature. The way he normally swaggered around like he was God’s gift to women had led her to believe he’d be more interested in his own pleasure than his partner’s. But that wasn’t the case at all.
They made love several times, and each time he took her to new heights of pleasure. It was as if she was his personal crusade—he wouldn’t be satisfied until she was. And man, was she ever! Over and over again.
But there was another element to Sam’s lovemaking. Not just physical prowess, but the care he took with her, the way he played with her and teased her. They laughed, they talked, they even wrestled, rolling around on the bed until Jordan had gotten so wrapped up in the covers it took Sam’s help to get her out. Which led to another unbelievably erotic session.
It was the first time Jordan had truly enjoyed making love. With the handful of men before Sam it had been a physical release only, because she not only purposely chose men she wouldn’t become attached to, she also never gave anyone else what she gave Sam last night.
Her heart.
Then it hit her. Why making love with Sam had seemed so special, so incredibly intimate and emotionally satisfying.
She loved him. She laid her head on her arm and thought about this amazing revelation. It couldn’t be love—she was confusing love with sex, with passion. That was it. Rolling over onto her back, she thought about all the reasons she couldn’t be in love with Sam Tanner.
He was an opinionated, bull-headed pain in the ass. Sarcastic, arrogant and full of himself. He made her angry more often than not, frustrated her beyond measure, showed up at the most inopportune times, and constantly berated her for choosing New York over Magnolia. She was the proverbial city girl, he the country boy, and never the twain shall meet.
But he was also kind, whip-smart, passionate, an incredible kisser, a wonderful and giving lover and had a wickedly funny sense of humor. The kind of man most women would jump for joy at having for themselves.
Jordan wasn’t most women.
That in a nutshell was the problem. She couldn’t love him. She had deliberately structured her life not to fall in love, and what did she do? Fell head over heels for the one man she knew was wrong for her.
Okay, she wasn’t having any of this love stuff, but maybe she could enjoy the lovemaking. Why not? Men did it all the time, didn’t they? Had great sex, then when you gotta go, you gotta go. Isn’t that what her father had done to her mother?
“You sure are beautiful in the morning.”
She jumped, turning over to find him staring intently at her. Lord, he looked good. Hair sticking out everywhere, the shadow of a beard on his face and a rather prominent erection woke her libido in a savage way.
“How long have you been awake?”
Stretching and rolling on top of her, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. “Long enough to see you were deep in thought about something. Long enough to see how beautiful you look with your hair all mussed up.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he turned her head to the side and looked at her throat. “And long enough to spot that huge hickey on your neck.”
Her hand flew to her neck. “You’re joking, right? You did not give me a hickey, did you? Oh shit, I’ll be so embarrassed!”
He laughed and kissed her neck. “Just kidding. Remind me to plant one on you sometime, though, just for fun.” He gathered her close, then nipped at her collarbone and lower, licking the sensitive spot above her right breast until she struggled to maintain her thoughts.
“But for now,” he said as he slid his lips down to tease her already erect nipple, “I’ll remember to put love bites in places no one but me can see.”
The thought of being branded by him made her shiver, desire springing anew despite the soreness between her legs. A sudden need washed over her—to feel him mark her, to know that she belonged to him, and that he belonged to her.
Ridiculous. Foolish schoolgirl fantasies. Like wearing a guy’s class ring. So she never got to experience those things. So what? She was a grown woman now with goals of her own, and those goals didn’t include a permanent relationship with Sam Tanner.
Why can’t you just enjoy the moment, Jordan? Quit thinking so much.
Forcing thoughts of relationships aside, she focused instead on the goose bumps caused by Sam’s thorough attentions. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, nibbling lightly. His hands cupped her breasts, tugging at her nipples until she whimpered, fire burning low in her belly.
God, she was easy. A few kisses and sweeps of his hand over her body and she was ready for him. Eager for him. Nearly desperate to feel him inside her again.
“Tell me what you want, Jordan.”
Her gaze met his, loving the fire in his eyes. Tell him what she wanted? There wasn’t enough time in the world for that. She wanted so much. Too much.
“Make love to me.”
He grinned. “I kinda figured that out already. How do you want it?”
Oh, God. Don’t ask her that. “Um, the regular way.”
He laughed and licked her bottom lip. “You want it on your knees, or maybe standing up? How about sitting up together. There’s a rocking chair over there I’d like to try out sometime.”
So many visuals, all conjuring up erotic games and intense sexual play. Yes, she wanted it all. But not right now. “I don’t want to think anymore, Sam. Just fuck me.”
His grin turned her on more than anything. Wicked, filled with the promise of giving her more than what she could ever imagine.
“Your wish is my command.”
He moved above her, taking her hands in his and raising them over her head. Positioning himself between her legs, his gaze captured hers at the moment he plunged into her. She gasped with pleasure at his dominating entry, swept away in a tide of incredible sensations.
“Your pussy was made for my dick,” he said, holding tight to her wrists, controlling every one of their movements. “Slick, hot, wet, it squeezes me so damn hard I could come the minute I enter you.”
His words, so dark and sensuous, poured over her like an inferno, scorching her, making her want and need only him. A very potent and dangerous man, and yet she couldn’t resist him.
Whatever his magic, she wanted more of it. Every day. For—
Forever.
“I’ve wanted to be inside you so long I couldn’t see straight.” He continued to drive relentlessly, his balls banging against her ass. When he pulled her upright and turned her onto her belly, she arched her back and waited.
“You have one pretty ass, Jordan,” he said, smacking one cheek until it stung. A quite pleasurable sting, too. Gripping her hips, he drove deep, holding himself in check and grinding against her. “I want to fuck your ass, feel it squeeze my cock tight.”
Oh God. The images came catapulting at her, one right after the other. Her body open and ready for him, well lubricated so that he could slide his cock deep into her anus. She could actually feel the intensity of the experience.
“Would you like me to fuck your ass, baby?”
So intimate, so personal. Yet something she’d fantasized about time and time again. She didn’t even hesitate before answering, “Yes.”
His fingers bit into the flesh of her hips as he reared back and thrust harder. She felt the tension coiling inside her, ready to burst. When he leaned over her back and searched between her legs, finding and strumming her clit, she let the tidal wave flow.
Her orgasm overcame her almost immediately. Sam plunged repeatedly inside her, taking her higher than she thought she could go.
“That was a good come,” he said, leaning over to nuzzle her neck. She half turned to see him grinning at her like a madman. “Now we’re gonna take you there again. Only this time, I’m taking that sweet ass of yours.”
Lifting her hips in the air, he slipped a couple pillows under her abdomen.
/> When he eased a finger inside her slit, she jerked, still feeling the tremors of her prior orgasm. When he withdrew, she heard the sucking sounds, knew he tasted her cream. She’d never heard anything more erotic, or more stimulating.
“Creamy, salty and sweet. Damn, woman, you make me crazy.”
She was the one who was crazy. Sam was more than she could ever handle. She wasn’t prepared for someone with such a powerful sexuality. She felt inept and completely out of control.
“I love fucking you, Jordan.” He thrust his cock inside her again, this time reaching underneath to massage her clit. Seemingly relentless, he led her to the brink again and again, his strokes sure and steady.
He withdrew, petting her slit and taking the juices that poured there to coat her anus. The feel of his fingers stroking there made her quiver with anticipation. She’d often fucked herself in the ass with her toys, but she’d never allowed a man there.
Until now. Now she wanted it, with the only man she could ever imagine taking her this way.
“I have another confession to make.”
Jordan stilled, feeling exposed and vulnerable in this position. What could he possibly need to confess to her at this moment? “What is it?”
“I watched you the day you fucked yourself in your room.”
Her belly recoiled in panic. “What? When?”
“Not too long ago. You were up in your room, fucking yourself in the ass with a dildo.”
Oh, God. How embarrassing. Heat filled her and she was glad she wasn’t in a position to look him in the eyes. “How did you… I mean I was alone…”
“I went up on the scaffold to retrieve my tools and I saw you. Your window was open.”
“Oh my God. And you watched?”
He caressed her buttocks, his fingers teasing the opening to her anus. “Yeah, how could I not watch? You were so fucking hot, Jordan. My dick was on fire. Hell, I took it out and jacked off while you masturbated.”
“You did?”
“Hell, yeah. I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning out loud when I came.”
That sent heat spiraling through her womb, her pussy flooding with arousal.
“You just got wetter, baby. Does thinking about that day turn you on?”
As he said the words he slipped the tip of his finger into her anus. She moaned, arching her ass higher.
“Hang on tight, baby,” he said, moving off the bed and opening the drawer to her nightstand. “I figured you had to keep it close. Nice toy drawer, by the way. Remind me to use some of those on you.”
She laughed, squealing when he poured the cold lube between the cheeks of her ass.
“Nice and slick. It’ll be easy for me to slide my dick right in that tight hole.”
He probed with the head of his cock, gently pushing forward. More than used to having something in her anus, she lifted, eager to feel a hot cock in there instead of a lifeless jelly plug.
“Ready for it?” he asked, his voice tight.
“Yes. Fuck me, Sam.”
He spread her buttocks and slid inside, past the tight barrier. A sharp, tingling pain, but more pleasure than she had ever known before. She cried out and pushed against him, taking his shaft all the way in.
“God, that’s so tight.” He moved back and pulled partway out, then slid fully inside her again, developing a rhythm. He was gentle with her, obviously not wanting to hurt her, but she needed more.
“Harder.”
“Christ, Jordan. You amaze me.” He gave her what she asked for, pulling back and driving hard. The pain was intense, the pleasure more so. She never knew that being fucked in the ass could be so incredibly arousing.
“Reach underneath and touch your clit for me. I want you to come again.”
She did as he asked, finding her clit, using her other hand to plunge her fingers inside her pussy.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, thrusting hard. “Fuck your pussy for me. Come for me.”
“I can’t do this,” she cried, unable to deal with the never-ending tension and release.
“Yes, you can. Give it to me, baby.”
She tossed her head from side to side. Pleasure washed over her again, shocking her. She’d thought she had no more to give until Sam coaxed her towards the summit one last time.
She felt the tightening and strummed her clit in rhythm to Sam’s strokes, drawing closer and closer to an explosion.
“I’m gonna come,” he said, his body tightening against her, his cock twitching. He drove harder, his balls slapping against her.
Jordan lost it then, bucking her ass against him and crying out as she climaxed, flooding her hand with her juices. Sam groaned and shoved deep, his hot cream filling her anus as he jerked repeatedly.
She lay there, panting, still feeling the tingling aftershocks of her orgasm.
He withdrew and helped Jordan up, then pulled her into the shower with him, soaping her body tenderly, turning her every few seconds for a soul-shattering kiss. They dried off and he led her to the bed, gathering her close to his chest and stroking her wet hair. She listened to the sound of his heart, knowing by his rhythmic breathing that he had drifted off.
More content than she had any right to be, she let herself fall into oblivion, both in awe and scared to death that she had just bitten off way more than she could chew.
Chapter Eleven
The days passed like a blur of nonstop momentum. Jordan busily prepared the production for the Summer Festival, less than a week away. The cast was well rehearsed and ready. A buzz had already started about the musical, many people telling her they anticipated it as the social event of the summer.
She had to admit she was getting a bit excited too. To be completely in charge of a production was something she’d been aching to do for years, but with the size of the theater in New York she hadn’t yet been given the opportunity to run her own show. At best she was an assistant to the producer and directors of whatever shows were booked at the theater. This production, from virtually the beginning, was hers to run. And she loved it, even if it was a small-town affair.
In the meantime, Sam was finishing up the house. The ceilings and walls were all repaired and repainted. The outside of the house bore a fresh coat of paint and the roof had been replaced so there would be no more water leaks. She had to admit he was doing a great job.
She watched him one day when he brought in his crew to help. Sam was, without a doubt, the man in charge. He barked orders, climbed all over scaffolds and rigging like Tarzan, and without a care for his own safety made sure the job was done right.
Her heart skipped several beats as she watched him move around on the scaffolding. Not only was he in complete command of his physical abilities, he also managed a crew quite well. He spoke with authority and commanded respect, and they gave it to him easily because they knew he was willing to do the same work they were doing, without fear or complaint. She could see the respect his employees gave him, and admired him for that.
Of course Jordan also enjoyed watching him work, whether alone or with a crew. Because the weather was so hot and humid, he usually worked in shorts and no shirt, muscles rippling as he hammered or painted.
She had to admit she found herself coming up with a myriad of excuses to be near him, whether to inspect the work being done, or bring him a glass of iced tea during the hot hours of the afternoon. Invariably she ended up staying, talking with him about any and all subjects as he worked and she watched.
Typically they discussed either the house or the play. Occasionally Sam made Jordan laugh with town gossip, like the fact that Josiah Edmunds, barely eighteen years old, had been caught by his father, Donald, banging the twenty-three year old high school English teacher in his father’s house.
Jordan was appalled, but Sam just laughed. He explained it wasn’t that Donald was angry about his son becoming a man with an older woman, but the fact that said older woman was also Donald’s girlfriend at the time.
Which Jordan found even
more shocking. But then Sam informed her that Donald received another blow to his already fragile ego when the English teacher said she preferred the son over the father, and promptly skipped town with her new young stud, leaving Donald minus both a son and a girlfriend. Sam said Donald would probably not mourn the loss for long, as he’d recently been spotted hanging out at the bowling alley ogling one of the young barmaids who had to be at least twenty years his junior.
No doubt about it. The gossip in a small town was infinitely more detailed and interesting than one would be privy to in a large city, where most people kept their private lives private. Private wasn’t even a word in Magnolia’s dictionary.
Besides their work, Jordan and Sam found ample time to play. They made love at every opportunity. In the mornings before she left for town, and on the days she worked at home at almost every break Sam took. She teased him that she was glad she wasn’t paying him by the day, because she’d feel cheated. Sam laughed and told her she was getting more than her money’s worth out of him, as stud service wasn’t included in their original contract.
She pulled in front of the house, still amazed at the changes that had taken place in just a few short weeks. Before, the house had been in a state of disrepair. Now it shined like new. So new, in fact, that the realtor she had spoken to when she first came to town finally placed a For Sale sign in the front yard, deeming it ready to show.
The sign glared at her like an ugly reminder of what she was doing. A pang of regret hit her, which she quickly brushed aside as she walked up the stairs to the front door. She refused to deviate from her goals. Her dream was in reach and she wasn’t going to change her mind.
It was late, but Sam must still be working since his truck was parked out front. She wondered what he could be doing this time of night. He’d told her he didn’t want to paint in the evenings because the light of day was better to ensure an even application of color.
As she opened the front door she took a deep breath. The house smelled like lavender. Dusk had settled over the house, indicating the need for lights, but none were on. Instead, small purple candles lined every step of the staircase leading upstairs, the tiny votives providing the explanation for the lavender smell.