River of Love

by Melissa Foster

  “Don’t apologize for touching me,” he said warmly. “I want you to touch me.”

  And boy do I ever want to touch you. She shook her head, trying to clear the dirty thoughts and focus on Sam. Despite everything he’d said, she needed him to know she didn’t expect him to keep doing so much for her.

  “After everything you did last night, I feel kind of guilty. I hope you don’t feel like you have to keep doing more for me because I was afraid to go out with you. You’ve got me, Sam. You can stop doing all these things for me and just be yourself.”

  He slid his hand to the nape of her neck and tugged her in closer. “I think for the first time in my life, that’s exactly who I am.”

  Chapter Eleven

  SAM CLIMBED THE steps to Faith’s apartment later that evening sporting a ridiculous grin. Their second date felt like a milestone, maybe because for him it was. He knew he was coming on strong, but he couldn’t help it. She really had opened up some sort of floodgates he never knew existed, and he was rolling with it. Just like he was rolling with coaxing sweet Faith out of her safety zone, and hopefully earning her trust, by showing her that he could have fun without debauchery. Although a little debauchery is always nice.

  Faith answered the door, flashing the smile he loved so much, the one that instantly lit up her beautiful dark eyes and made her breathe a little harder. The one that made his heart take notice.

  “Sam,” she said dreamily.

  Her voice, along with her smiling eyes, brought him silently closer. They’d just seen each other a few hours ago, and already he was starved for her. His arm circled her waist, and in the seconds before their mouths came together, her eyes fluttered closed. He loved those unguarded seconds, when he could see she wasn’t thinking about his past and how it fit into his present, but of how much she wanted to be with him. He drank in the sweetness of their kiss, fighting the urge to take it deeper, to let her feel everything he was holding back. It was a kiss of divine ecstasy, a kiss full of promises of what was to come—trust, he hoped, and more. He needed to put space between them to keep from going further, but his body pressed forward. Everything about him had been moving forward since he’d given in to his feelings for Faith, which was a huge change for the man who moved from one woman to another, always on the same level, in the same realm, year after year.

  His tongue swept over hers, her touch searing into his skin.

  Moving forward with Faith was a million times better than anything he could have imagined. He felt alive, focused, driven. As their lips parted—his aching, burning, for more—he gazed into her eyes and somehow knew that only Faith could have this effect on him.

  “Hey, sweet one,” he said as her eyes came open. “How are you?”

  “Better now.” Her fisted hands trembled against his chest, and he covered one with his own.

  Her eyes dropped to their hands and she whispered, “Sorry,” as she unfurled her fingers.

  He kissed her again, tenderly this time. “No apologies for touching, remember?” He raked his eyes down her body, noticing that she’d worn the Rough Riders hoodie he’d given her over a clingy white V-neck shirt. She shivered against him. “Cold?”

  “Hot. Hot, hot, hot,” she whispered.

  He laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. You look really sexy.”

  She looked down at her outfit, fidgeting with the long necklace dangling between her breasts. “You sure this is okay? I wasn’t sure, but you said to wear jeans and dress comfortably.”

  “I’m sure.” He gave her another quick kiss. “Ready to go?”

  She cleared her throat and looked down at his hand, which was still wrapped possessively around her waist.

  “Guess I need to let you go. Damn, I hate that.”

  She laughed and playfully pushed at his stomach. After another quick kiss he reluctantly released her. As she grabbed her purse from a table by the door, he glanced around her living room. It was exactly as he’d pictured it, neat and feminine, with floral pillows on the sofa, a bookshelf full of medical and fiction books, for your smart, sexy brain, and a few leafy green plants in front of the balcony doors.

  “Okay, ready.” She put her purse strap crosswise over her body, which pressed her shirt down between her breasts.

  “I like that purse,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes as they walked out the door. “Such a man.” His hand circled her waist and she said, “Afraid I’ll disappear?”

  “Staking my claim. You’re the one who wanted exclusivity. Rethinking that now?”

  “Not on your life, Mr. Braden, but fair’s fair.” She slipped her arm around his waist as they descended the stairs. “You showed up at my work twice. Now you have to deal with the fallout when your brother comes home and fires me for fraternizing with his sibling.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s not an appropriate reason to be fired.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I already sent him a text telling him that we needed to talk when he returns. Don’t worry. I’ll always have your back.”

  She gazed up at him with a curious look in her eyes as they walked toward the parking lot. “Even if I dump you? Or will you ask him to fire me just to get back at me?”

  “If you dump me?” He leaned down for another quick taste of her luscious lips. “All of the above.”

  “You’re impossible. Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see. On my ‘things I’ve never done with a woman’ list is going for a ride on my bike.” He nodded to his motorcycle.

  “We’re taking your motorcycle?” She took a step backward. “Sam, I’ve never ridden one.”

  He drew her against him again. “Not to worry. You’ll just have to hold on to me.”

  “What if I let go?”

  “Why would you ever want to do that?” He grabbed a helmet from the back of the bike and slid it over her head. “Jesus, Faith. You just got even hotter.”

  “I’m sure helmet hair will do wonders for my looks.”

  “Trust me. Your looks are not in jeopardy.” He lifted her by the waist, making her squeal as he set her on the bike. “Seeing you straddle my monster like that? Babe, you’ve just reached the danger zone. Good luck keeping me off of you tonight.”

  **

  “WE’RE BEHAVING, REMEMBER?” Faith said as Sam straddled the bike in front of her, although behaving was the last thing on her mind. His gray shirt stretched tightly over his broad back, outlining every muscle all the way down to his waist. Even his black belt looked hot on him. And his bike? His monster? Sam wasn’t kidding. Seeing his powerful legs straddling it definitely turned her on.

  “Behaving. Yeah, I remember. It’s torture, but I remember. Now put your arms around me.”

  “So bossy,” she teased as she wrapped her arms around him. He grabbed her by the forearms and tugged her forward, until her thighs were spread wide against his hips, her breasts mashed to his back.

  “Perfect. Hold tight. Don’t let go and you’ll be fine.”

  The bike roared to life, sending the most thrilling vibration between her legs, up her chest, and everywhere in between. She had no idea where they were going, and she was scared to death of actually riding on this thing. But holding Sam, feeling the rumble of the bike hum through his body to hers, was like foreplay. When they pulled out of the parking space and onto the road, she clung tightly to him, and when he hit the open road, that vibration was even stronger, and her fear turned to excitement.

  Holding tight as they flew through town, Faith felt every one of Sam’s muscles. His abs jumped and flexed against her hands, and she couldn’t resist spreading her fingers so she could feel more of him. Sam was right. There was no way she was going to let go of this scrumptious man. She felt exhilarated and freer than she ever had as he drove past Chelsea’s Boutique, the marina, and Mr. B’s. The signs Sam had hung just for her were gone, but the memory of that night would never fade.

  Faith didn’t care where they were headed as they
left town and Sam kept going. This was already the most exhilarating ride of her life.

  A few minutes later they pulled into Whiskey Bro’s, a shady-looking bar just before the bridge that led into Peaceful Harbor. Faith had driven by it plenty of times. There were always motorcycles out front, as there were now. The windows were dark, and she’d never looked close enough to see if they were curtained or painted, but now she could see that they’d been purposely blacked out. Gulp!

  Two men with long beards stood out front, both wearing jeans, boots, and leather vests. Faith had never seen anyone wear a leather vest other than in movies. Sam pulled his long leg over the bike and set his helmet on the back, smiling down at her.

  “You okay?”

  “Um, no.” She looked at the bar, then looked back at Sam. “We’re going in there?”

  He helped her take off her helmet and set it on the back of the bike, smiling like this was the best date ever. He cupped her cheeks and gazed into her eyes. She was still sitting on the bike, and if she had it her way Sam would be in front of her, driving back to the part of town she was more comfortable with.

  “Yes, we are.” He slid his hands beneath her hair, fluffed it up, then tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “Gorgeous as ever.”

  He took her hand to help her off the bike, but she tightened her legs, refusing to budge.

  “Sam,” she snapped. “I can’t go in there. That’s the kind of place my father would drive ten miles to avoid.”

  He lifted her by the waist as she squirmed against him.

  “Stop! Put me down.”

  He did, and immediately trapped her against his infuriatingly solid body.

  “Remember that whole judging a book by its cover thing?”

  She looked over her shoulder and shuddered at the thought of going inside. She imagined the types of guys who might sell women for…she didn’t know what. A bike? She knew that was a gross generalization based on nothing more than bad rumors, but still. She was a smart girl, and smart girls weighed risky situations. Her father had warned her away from places like this, and she trusted his judgment. She was thinking about that as Sam lifted her chin and kissed her tenderly, calming her with his gentle touch, which upset her, too, because smart girls didn’t get lost in kisses. Did they?

  When he took the kiss deeper, she felt her body going boneless, one bone at a time melting into him. Oh yeah, smart girls get lost in kisses, and the feel of your rough hand on my cheek, and your scent of seduction. Her eyes came open with that thought, and she tore her mouth away.

  “You can’t entice me with your panty-melting kisses!”

  He laughed, still holding her close. “Faith, do you think I’d ever take you someplace unsafe?”

  “Not on purpose.”

  “Right. And if we ever went someplace and it turned unsafe, what do you think I’d do?”

  “Throw me to the wolves and run?” She knew that wasn’t true, but she was so nervous, the tease came out lightning fast. Sam’s eyes narrowed, clearly not amused. “I know you’d protect me, Sam, but…” She glanced at the two guys again, who were lost in conversation.

  “Trust me?”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “I do trust you. But what kind of place blacks out the windows?”

  “The kind of place I hang out when I don’t want to be bothered by the outside world.” He laced their fingers together and kissed her knuckles as they crossed the parking lot toward the entrance. “Besides, you said you didn’t want a rerun of what I’d done with other women.”

  “Do you really have to take me to this type of place in order to find somewhere you haven’t slept with every woman under the roof?” The thought made her queasy.

  “No, babe. I’m taking you to one of my favorite places because you mean enough to me to want to share it with you. It just so happens to also be someplace I’ve never hooked up with anyone, which was one of your requirements.”

  Requirements? Had she really come across like that? Like she needed special treatment? She stopped walking, feeling uneasy with the thought.

  “Sam, when I said that I meant in general. I didn’t want to be one of the long list of women you’d picked up, slept with, then moved on from. I didn’t mean that you had to take me places where you’d never been with them.”

  “I know.” His gaze was warm and thoughtful. “Faith, I know it’s going to be hard for you when we go out in town, which we will do, because I’m not going to hide our relationship. But this place really is special to me, and until I know that when you look at me you see the real me, and not the guy you thought I was when I first asked you out, we’re going to stay away from those places.”

  “You’re worried about what will happen when we go out in town?”

  He sighed, but his gaze was dead serious. “Right now you look at me with more clarity than you did two days ago. You look at me as if you like who I am and you want to be with me. I love that. I crave it. But I know that when we go out in town women will probably flirt with me regardless of if we’re together or not, because they know me as the guy who did those things. I’ll handle that appropriately, but I don’t want you reverting to seeing me as that guy because of how some meaningless people might act.”

  What could she say to that? He was painfully honest, and that made him even more irresistible. She went up on her toes and kissed him.

  “Thank you for thinking about my feelings. I’ve been trying not to think about that, and it makes it a little easier knowing that you’re so self-aware and so in tune with me.” She glanced at Whiskey Bro’s again. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s go visit your special place.” He tucked her against his side, her new favorite place. “Do I get a cool biker chick name?”

  “Not beyond the one you have.”

  She looked up at him. His gaze turned possessive as he said, “Braden’s Girl.”

  Chapter Twelve

  SAM WASN’T SURE what reaction he’d expected to see from Faith when he’d said Braden’s Girl. A snappy denial maybe? Certainly not the eager acceptance it was met with. The combination of the delight in her smile, the passion brimming in her eyes, and his mounting desire to publicly make her his sparked a visceral reaction of his protective urges surging forward. He tightened his grip around her waist as they headed inside Whiskey Bro’s.

  “Gentlemen,” he said to the two men standing out front.

  They nodded in greeting, and the taller of the two opened and held the door for them. Sam inhaled the scent of testosterone, leather, and camaraderie, with an underlying fierceness of competition. Damn, he loved this place. This was where he came to talk shop, bikes, sports, or anything else, without the expectations of being the it guy.

  Music, laughter, and the din of conversations greeted them, along with about twenty sets of curious eyes. Faith stiffened against him as they stepped inside. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

  “I’ve got you,” he assured her. Though he wasn’t worried, he imagined the bandana-wearing, leather-clad, tattooed crowd was intimidating as hell for sweet Faith.

  He led her across the scuffed and marred wood floors to a table by the rustic, unkempt bar, wondering what she’d think of the place, and pulled out her chair. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she settled into the chair. He had to admit, this was a far cry from anyplace she was used to, but Faith wasn’t a prima donna, which was one of the things he really liked about her. She was real, and she spoke her mind. If she let herself, he had a feeling she might end up liking the place, and the company, as much as he did.

  “Braden, how’s it going?” Bullet Whiskey’s voice sounded as rough as his name as he slapped Sam on the back. Before Sam could respond, Bullet smiled down at Faith and said, “How’re you doin’, sweetheart?”

  “Faith, this is Bullet Whiskey. He and his family own the place.”

  “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled up at Bullet, her eyes drifting along his colorful tattooed sleeves to the tip of a snake’s head creeping o
ut of the collar of his shirt. Her eyes narrowed quizzically, but Sam recognized a hint of mischief that set his stomach in a tizzy every time he saw it. “Bullet is an interesting name. Have you killed many people, or do you drive fast?”

  Sam laughed, but inside he was full of pride, because he knew how intimidated she was. Still she’d found the courage to taunt a man who stood three inches taller than Sam and outweighed him by at least fifty pounds.

  Bullet stroked his beard, his smile stretching across his face. “Sweetheart, I think the only answer you really want to hear is that yes, I drive too fast.” He winked. “What can I get y’all?”

  “Faith? Wine, beer, soda?”

  She touched his hand, still resting on her shoulder. “What are you having?”

  “Just Coke for me. I’ve got precious cargo on board tonight.” That earned him another warm smile.

  “I’ll have the same, please.”

  “Coming right up,” Bullet said.

  Sam pulled a chair close to Faith and sat down.

  “Wow, this really is a biker bar,” Faith said over the music, looking a bit wide-eyed.

  “It really is,” he said with amusement. He watched as Faith took in the rough wood walls littered with license plates, biker logos, flags, and odd paraphernalia like a banjo, old black-and-white pictures of the Whiskey brothers’ relatives on their bikes, and flyers for upcoming rides. Her eyes lingered on each item before moving to the bar, where neon lights brought shocks of bright, colorful light. There were about thirty men and women sitting at tables and milling around the pool table toward the back of the bar. The band members were probably pushing fifty, three guys dressed in faded jeans and black boots, and one woman wearing leather pants and spiky boots. They all wore black shirts with a red and white logo.

  “I like this place,” she said casually. “It’s definitely different, but Bullet seems nice, not at all like I expected. I thought he’d be cold, or something. That sounds bad, doesn’t it?”