by Dyanne Davis
“I do love you, Sam and I think a part of me always has. But you were my brother's friend and I just couldn’t see it happening. I didn't think he'd approve. By the time we lost Jamie I was sure I loved you, and I was even surer that I could never lose another person I loved.”
Sam ran his hand lightly over Rebe’s body. “We can't know how long we have, but what a waste not to take advantage of the time we do have. What a waste it would be, to be so afraid of living that we just die a little each day in order not to hurt. Do you know why your brother asked me to look after you? Not because we were friends, but because he knew I loved you. I told him I loved you.”
“Sam, I have to tell you something. It’s very important. You are aware that if you cheat on me, my reaction will be different than it was with Chase.”
“You should know I'd never cheat on you. And you should never ever again in life compare me with Chase. Now what shall we do?”
“You know we could have made love in my hotel room.”
“That was much too close to Chase. I'm sure he got the two of you an adjoining room.”
Rebe laughed. “I wouldn’t doubt it. I thought we were going to stop talking.”
“And so we were.” Sam moved toward his nightstand and reached for several boxes and held them up for her inspection
“That's pretty ambitious.”
“I'd say we're going to take the first dozen or so encounters just to take the edge off. After that we’ll slow down just a bit, just enough to learn what the other likes.”
“I think I'd like to know that going in,” Rebe laughed
“This isn’t your game anymore, Rebe, but I can promise you're going to enjoy it.”
This new alpha Sam was turning Rebe on. He moved slowly a touch of a predatory smile. His hand moved toward her blouse and he slowly began undoing the buttons. With each button undone he'd kiss her. Her body was heating up. What he was doing felt so erotic. She knew she shouldn’t be doing it, comparing men was a definite ‘no no’ but she did it anyway.
No man had ever undressed her in such a slow and deliberate manner. And no man had ever looked at her the way Sam was doing, as though she was the most wonderful woman in the world. As though he couldn’t get enough of her. As though he loved her and she was firmly entrenched in his heart.
He was kissing her, slow, deliberate, soft kisses, no tongue; just him licking at her lips nibbling, even lightly biting her, then he moved to pull her earlobe into his mouth and suckled it. Lord have mercy, she nearly lost it. She knew she was wet because she could feel it. She couldn’t remember if that had ever happened. In fact it surprised her so much that she'd wondered about it.
Sam was not in a rush that much was obvious. Rebe suddenly felt shy. When he'd finally removed the blouse from her shoulders he was staring at her, then he smiled and his gaze moved to her chest. He was kissing the bra. Damn man, she wanted to tell him to get on with it, but she'd rushed him once already and didn't think he'd take too kindly to being rushed again. Besides the silk moving against her skin was erotic. Then she felt his hand moving to undo the clasp of her bra, which thankfully was fastened in the front. He removed it and tossed it into a chair and stood back looking at her. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “This is so much better for painting you.”
“Are you thinking of painting me right now?” Rebe asked in astonishment. Modeling for Sam was so not what was on her mind and if that was what he wanted she was more than a little peeved. “Sam, are you thinking of painting me?”
“Actually I am. But not at the moment. I'm thinking how much more beautiful you are underneath your clothes, much more than I ever imagined. It’s such fun to unwrap you. It's like you're my special present.”
That made her smile and forgiveness was instant. “Stop staring at me, Sam, you're freaking me out.”
“You're beautiful. Hasn't a man just wanted to look at you?”
“No,” she answered.
“In that case, thank God, I am the fortunate one you have chosen to spend time with.”
Did he just say that? Rebe’s heart was pounding like crazy. She felt as giddy as a school girl. She wanted to jump up and down and pump her fist and yell, ‘yes.’ But she had to play it cool right, keep the upper hand, be the one in control, be the heroine? A heroine would never but never allow the hero, and she had firmly established that yes, Sam was a hero. Anyway she'd never allow him to know how she was feeling. Right?
Wrong. “Sam, you make me feel…cherished.”
“You are cherished. It's so hard to believe you find this so unusual. I can't believe any of the men─”
“Hold it. I haven't slept with that many men.”
“In the years I've known you, you've had a ton of boyfriends.”
“That does not mean I've slept with all of them.”
“How many would you say?”
“That is so not your business.” He was eyeing her, his head tilted and his eyes slanted as though he was having very erotic thoughts. She made a move for the bed, anything to cover her body. Only she was backing away not knowing how comfortable she was with him seeing her rear
“Don't move, Rebe, just let me drink you in. “You know what, I have a better idea.”
Sam went for her discarded panties. “Lift your leg,” he said as he tugged the red silk over her calves then moved the material upward where it belonged. A growl, low and menacing came out as he retrieved her bra then fastened it.
“What the heck are you doing?”
“I’m dressing you.”
“Why?”
“I should have thought of this sooner. I'd love for you to undress for me.”
“You mean strip?” A lazy smile crossed his face. He hunched a shoulder.
“You say tomato I say tamato. Either way I'd love to see you naked.”
“I was already naked
“So you were.
. “I’ve never had a man demand that I get dressed once I was already in the buff.”
“Since our relationship is so new I’m going to give that one to you for free. But I will not ever stand for your comparing me to other men.” He looked her over. At the least I don’t want you voicing it. I mean I can’t know what you’re thinking.”
Rebe started to laugh and Sam frowned. “But on occasion I can read your mind and you might not know when those times are.” She started laughing again.
“Rebe, in case you’re wondering, I’m not a virgin.” He waited until she’d gotten the message. “Thank you. I won’t compare you to other women and you won’t compare me to other men. I’ve figured you out. Chase was a safety net for you in order for you not to love me. But now that you’ve gotten rid of him, you’ve lost that net. We’re not going to have walls between us. Here are your pants he said pulling her from the bed and waiting until she’d put them back on. Then he handed her, her top and decided to rebutton it himself.
“Sam, you are awfully bossy.”
“A bit too much of the alpha male for you?”
“Okay, cut it out. My books are fiction. Now come on, tell me your plan. Why the heck are you trying to redress me? Is it in order to make you last longer?” She said the words with a smile and just a hint of a smirk.
“To be honest, yes. You do have me a bit paranoid about my performance and I do want to make the actual loving last a bit longer. But I was a bit premature about how much I wanted to unwrap you. I’ve done that, now I want you to undress, and yes I'd love to observe.”
“You’re a freak.”
“I'm an artist. I want to put every movement of your fingers into my memory. I want to see how the clothes fall when you take them off. I even want to look at the way they crease. Call me crazy.”
“You're crazy.”
“Perhaps. How about we go at this a bit differently, a little slower perhaps. How about if you just undo the button of your slacks and perhaps the zipper.”
“Just the button?”
“Okay, go ahead, the button.”
&nb
sp; She did that
“Now the zipper.”
Rebe complied but added an unasked for wiggle of her hips. The slacks pooled about her feet. She glanced at Sam and saw he was breathing hard. She looked down and saw other things were hard as well.
“Now the panties, or I could take them off,” Sam suggested.
“Are you going to strip for me, Sam?”
“I'll be happy to.”
“I'll bet you will. I'm not going to stand here naked while you're fully dress, take off your shirt.” Within seconds Sam’s shirt was off followed quickly by his pants. Rebe’s began to breathe faster as the two of them moved again toward the bed. “I’m getting tired of standing, Sam. I think I’ll lie on the bed for now.” Rebe moved backwards.
“Good idea.” Sam was near panting as Rebe’s fingers lingered in the band of her panties. “Keep the panties on, Sam said in a hoarse whisper. “I want to use my teeth to remove them from your body. And then guess what I want to do.”
Seriously was this Sam with the sexy, dirty talk? she wondered. Was he thinking he had to keep up with Chase? Had she given him a complex?
Together they sank onto the bed. “Ooh Sam,” she moaned.
“I'm sorry, Rebe, I really am. I’m crazy, but I have to do this, just indulge me, please”. He pulled her once again from the bed. “Just stand right there for me. You’re going to kill me, but I have to do this before I forget. Sam dashed from the room and left Rebe standing there. And when he returned he had a sketch pad and began sketching her.
If it wasn’t so crazy she’s laugh again. But she was started to feel a bit weird and not so wanted anymore. “Well, of all the nerve,” she huffed thinking how just that morning Sam had badgered her to make love when she’d told him she didn’t have the time. Now he was doing everything in his power to delay it. The thought entered her mind once more and she knew it was true. Sam really was trying to compete with Chase. She was wishing now she’d never teased him about being a frog prince.
“Sam, seriously I’m not kidding. I’m all for fun and games but you’re making me feel unwanted, undesirable. This morning you wanted to make love to me. Now all you want to do is sketch me. Forget it.” She went to the bed in a huff, pulled back the covers and crawled under them, then she glared at him and watched as he allowed the pad and chalk to fall from his fingers.
“Now I know how to get you in bed.” Rebe whispered.
“You were getting that already so you didn't win anything here.”
“I suppose we're going to fight the entire time we make love. Is that your way of hiding from your feelings. I'm not going anywhere, Rebe. That’s one thing you won’t have to worry about.” He watched her. Her brown eyes misted and she pulled the covers to her chin.
“Sam, are you afraid? Have I emasculated you with my teasing?”
Sam frowned. “You think you’ve emasculated me? No, Rebe. I probably shouldn’t be admitting this to you. In fact I don’t think a true alpha male would.” Sam stopped and smiled at Rebe then he continued. “Perhaps I am a bit afraid to just make love to you considering earlier today my performance was not as either of us desired. And perhaps I am afraid that I might not be able to measure up to Chase. Kandi told me that Chase really knew how to please you. That does put a lot of pressure on a man.”
“Kandi talks too much.”
“Was she wrong about Chase?”
“Sam do you really want to hear this?”
“Of course not. But I think maybe we need to discuss it.”
Rebe was exasperated. “Are all men hard of hearing? Listen to me, Sam, yes, Chase and I enjoyed a healthy physical relationship. I still want that. But I want it included with love and being in love. I want all of this with you, Sam. Forgive me for making you feel…well…rushed earlier. I get it that you’re putting off the moment. This is so important, Sam.”
“I know.”
“It's different.”
“I know that too.”
“I want us to…
“Be a match. We are. Don’t worry, Rebe, I was teasing you, at least a little bit. I could see you were a bit anxious and I was trying things to make you laugh, to make you a bit angry, to make you horny. We’re going to be together for a very long time and if we don’t get it right the first couple of times, so what? I’m sure we will eventually. I know I’ll never stop trying to please you. And for your information, you are very desirable.”
With a flick of his wrist Sam was out of his boxers and heading for the bed. He smiled as Rebe gave him a most appreciative look. “It would appear you like what you see. Later, you can draw me if you want.”
“I can't draw,” Rebe admitted.
“Then you can sculpt me. You only need your hands,” Sam grinned. “And who knows, maybe a few other body parts.” Before Rebe could say anything or utter another smart comment, he was with her under the covers and holding her in his arms.
This time they would take it slow. He'd not rush things though he'd wanted to be inside her from the moment he'd seen her at his art exhibit. Hell all the things he’d done were to make sure he’d last, now he had her thinking he didn’t want her. That was just plain crazy and he’d have to prove that to her and quickly.
“I want to kiss you all over, Rebe. I want to taste you just to see if you taste as good as I've always imagined.” Then he began nibbling on her ear using the tip of his tongue to trail a path of want up her body. His hand cupped her breast tweaking her nibbles.
Sam was doing everything in his power to make the buildup last. He was only human and had no idea what would happen when they finally tried it again. But he did know he'd make damn sure Rebe was well satisfied before he entered her. He would never be able to live it down if he went only a couple of strokes before breaking lose again.
After Rebe’s third orgasm Sam finally entered her. She held him close. “I love you, Sam. Don’t worry. We are a fit. And you, my love, are not a frog. You’re a prince.”
:Okay, so she’d been worried. But in real life one would hope their life partner knew them well enough to know that, and would be able to stop them from worrying. Sure, Sam’s antics had ticked her off, confused her and downright frustrated her. But when she began screaming out in pleasure, she’d forgotten all of that, and all she could do was scream Sam’s name over and over.
And now she was rounding the base toward orgasm number four, a first for her in such a short period of time. But this time Sam would be rounding that base with her. After all, this was her fairytale. And Sam was her prince. And what would a fairytale or a romance be without a happy ending?
Hers was just that.
A very happy ending.
Dyanne Davis is a Multi-Published, Award Winning author of 20 novels. She has written dozens of articles for on-line magazines. She was one of the authors for the Premier Edition of, New Love Stories, magazines. Dyanne lives in a Chicago suburb with her husband of 43 years, William Sr.
She has been a presenter of numerous workshops. She hosts a local cable television show in her hometown, “The Art of Writing,” to give writing tips to aspiring writers. Interviewing some of her favorite authors, LA. Banks, Robin Schone, Donna Hill, Melody Thomas, Ann Marcela, Cathie Linz, Jade Lee, Jenna Petersen and many more has been the highlight of doing the show. You can catch some of the clips on Youtube.
Dyanne also writes a vampire series under the name of F. D. Davis
You can reach her at [email protected]. www.dyannedavis.com [email protected] www.adamomega.com
The Gift
Blaine MaDia sat on the jet, his eyes closed behind the dark glasses he wore so often now. It had taken him less than a week to survey the damage in his San Francisco apartment and start the rebuilding process. In the meantime he needed a place to live. So he was heading east to his spacious suburban home forty minutes west of Chicago
Funny when he’d flown to San Francisco he’d had thoughts of staying. Problem was, even with a psychic, life didn’t always turn out as plann
ed. For assurance he’d even drawn Tarot cards for himself. Too bad he hadn’t asked if he would be burned out of his west coast apartment.
Lifting the glasses a tiny bit from his face to swipe at the sweat that had beaded between his brows, he allowed a deep breath of air to escape. He didn’t want to take them off because for the past week he’d taken quite a bit of ribbing, some of it good-natured, some of it mean spirited. Mostly people questioned if he were a true psychic, why didn’t he know his apartment was going to catch on fire?
In all honesty he’d answered, ‘I’m not God.’ Now he was tired of the questions, tired of all the answers. He just wanted to go home undisturbed. If he didn’t wear the glasses, strangers would be pestering him with requests for readings. He accepted that as a price for his fame.
On most occasions he handled those requests with a modicum of dignity and humor offering his card to the person asking. He couldn’t chance it now; he was in too weak of a state psychically. The fumes from the smoke had wreaked havoc in his body. He needed time to heal. Right now he could ill afford strangers pulling at his energy field. It was all that he could do to keep the barrier of energy surrounding his body, keeping out the thoughts of his fellow passengers.
Sleep was pulling at him when he sat up with a start. He rubbed at his temple feeling the beginning of what promised to be one doozy of a headache. Since the fire, dreams of his mother dogged him raggedly. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. If he could he’d eliminate the dreams, but for whatever reason they continued. Not now he thought not wanting to deal with the experience of the fire while sitting on a packed plane.
Trying to push the thoughts from him a searing pain warned what was happening wasn’t about him or the fire but about someone entirely different. He closed his eyes in order to better focus his powers, to see who was having such an effect on him. Not since the first time he met Michelle Powers, his soul mother, had he felt such a dramatic reaction. Blaine wanted to know who it was who was having such a strong effect on him. And what was happening to his hard won self-control.