“I’ve been wanting to strip this dress off you all night.”
Sam’s breath caught in her throat as his mouth descended over her nipple through the fabric of the dress. It hardened under his gentle tugging.
“Then do it, Jake.”
He groaned.
Surging up against her, every inch of his muscular body caressed her. His callused fingertips stroked her shoulders gently, sliding the straps of her dress down her arms. She shivered with awareness. The material clung to her curves and a gentle tug from Jake left her naked from the waist up. His gaze glided across her breasts and she felt her nipples tighten in anticipation.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He knelt before her, cupping her breasts in the palms of his hands, squeezing them, stroking them until she groaned.
“Jake!”
“Yes, darlin’,” he drawled, his lips and tongue bringing her nipples to sensitive hardness.
“You’re making me crazy,” she gasped. Her hands descended to his shoulders, kneading the warm muscles beneath his shirt.
He looked up at her, his eyes cloudy with his passion. “Not half as crazy as you’re making me.”
Her dress clung to her hips and Jake’s hands slid beneath the silky fabric to caress them. He hooked her panties with his thumbs and skimmed them down her thighs. She trembled under his touch, quivering not from withdrawal from the drugs, but from the heady effect he had on her senses.
He got to his feet, pulling her dress over her head in one swift motion that left her naked to his gaze A soft moan caught in the back of her throat at the look in his eyes. He wanted her
“You are so incredible,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms again, burying his face in her hair.
The rough fabric of his jeans did wild things to the tender skin of her thighs. She pressed closer, needing his touch. “Make love to me, Jake,” she whispered against his shoulder, afraid he would say no. Afraid he would say yes.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He scooped her up in his arms.
“Jake, put me down. I’m too heavy.”
He grinned that devastating, all-male grin of his. “Trust me, this time I don’t mind carrying you at all.”
He went to the bed and gently laid her across it She watched him in breathless anticipation as he shed his shirt. His broad chest rippled with muscles as he undid the first button on his jeans.
His gaze caressed every inch of her, seeming to drink her in. The bed sagged under his weight as he sat beside her. He took her in his arms again and rained kisses down on her face and neck. His hands teased her breasts until they felt full and heavy. Then his fingers slid lower, finding the slick entrance of her, ready for him. She moaned.
“You want me,” he said, and it was true. She clung to him as his fingers dipped inside, bringing forth wetness and warmth.
“Jake!” Her hands went to the waistband of his jeans. “I want you naked.”
He chuckled, but it was an erotic sound that inflamed her. “Impatient, aren’t you?” But he obliged, standing again and shedding his jeans and briefs.
His arousal was apparent, straining upward. She moaned again, her imagination vividly anticipating what he would do. She held out her arms to him and sighed when he joined her again, flesh against flesh. They were both breathing hard and she could feel his heartbeat accelerate under her touch. She let her hands trail down his waist, marveling at the muscular strength of him. Wrapping her fingers around him, she stroked him until he groaned against her hair and rolled her over onto her back.
“Not so fast,” he growled. “I want to take this nice and slow.”
She arched her hips, so ready for him. “Jake,” she breathed against his lips.
Poised above her, his velvet-soft tip so close to touching her wetness, he looked into her eyes. His features lost their intensity and his voice was quiet and somber when he spoke. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while. A really long while.”
Realizing what he was saying, she smiled. “Me neither.”
“I don’t like danger in bed,” he said, planting a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.
She was practically writhing with her need, wanting him inside her. “Neither do I.”
His eyes regained that hooded, lust-filled look. “Good.” He prodded her slick entrance. “You’re so wet.”
She quivered from the erotic words. “For you.” She raised her hips slightly, taking just the tip of him inside her. “Now, Jake. Now.”
He complied, sliding deep within her, filling her. He was big, but she was more than ready for him and her body opened to accommodate his size. He stilled for a moment, staring into her eyes. They were joined in the most intimate way possible and she felt time stand still. Her pulse raced as she shifted her hips ever so slightly, bringing a groan to his lips.
“I want to make it last,” he said, slowly thrusting into her.
She moved against him, moaning into his shoulder as he made love to her. Her hands trailed down his back to his muscular buttocks as she pulled him deeper into her. Her nails raked his shoulders as he thrust more urgently, building up the tempo of their lovemaking.
Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across the planes of Jake’s face. But she didn’t need to see him to know what he was thinking and feeling. He shifted slightly, until his erection rubbed the point of her desire. He pressed his lips to her neck, nipping lightly, making her moan. He ran his tongue around the shell of her ear, his breath heavy and hot. Sam’s body wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, enveloping his hardness. She felt her passion building as he coaxed her to the height of erotic awareness.
Gasping, Sam clung to him as she was swept into the darkness. Reality ceased to exist; the world was only Jake inside her, driving her over the edge into oblivion. Moments later, she felt him go rigid above her, groaning her name as he thrust deeply one last time.
He eased over onto his side, bringing her with him. They were both breathing harshly, and she was still caught up in the throes of her pleasure when he chuckled.
“What?” she asked, hearing the tremor in her voice.
He pulled her closer and his fingers were gentle against her cheek, his voice deep and drowsy. “That dress was the best investment I ever made.”
He twined his fingers in her hair, reveling in the softness of the silken strands. The curves of her warm, pliant body fit perfectly to the hard angles of his. “You’re a hell of a woman, Samantha Martin.”
She let out a breathy sigh that went straight to his groin as she turned in the circle of his arms. Her breasts pressed tightly against his chest and he took immense pleasure in the languid, satisfied expression on her face. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is.”
She tucked her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns in his chest hair until he shivered. “I don’t normally do this”
“This?” He chuckled, feeling sleep tug at him. Not yet, not just yet. “There’s nothing normal about any of this.”
She sighed again, pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss on his jaw. “I know. So much for playing it safe.”
“Is that what you were doing, Sam? Playing it safe?”
She nodded, her hair brushing across his shoulder. “I thought so.”
“Why?” He wanted to know. He knew so little about her past and nothing about her future.
“It hurts too much, otherwise. You can’t get involved, can’t care.”
He didn’t think she was talking about him, judging by the raw tone of her voice. “What do you mean?” He didn’t expect her to answer, but she did.
“I was in Central America, doing a photo layout on the resort port cities. I met all the dignitaries, got to dress up and act civilized. I was tired of living in huts, drinking God-only-knows-what, taking showers once in a blue moon.”
He forced a lighthearted tone. “Sounds like the way you looked when I found you.”
“Yeah, well, it was my job. I co
vered all the things no one else wanted to. Third World civil wars, disasters, disease breakouts, endangered African animals. We called it the Peace Corps beat.”
“It must have gotten old after a while.”
“I liked it It was tough, demanding. Lonely. But I was good at it. Still, I snapped at the chance to be pampered and sleep in a real bed. Then everything came crashing down around my ears.”
“What?” He tensed, bracing for her words although he didn’t know what to expect.
“My editor called, wanted me to hike to some remote mountainous region to cover a famine. It was a day’s trip and I wasn’t very excited about the prospect.” She laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t like I hadn’t covered that kind of thing a dozen times before.”
Jake had seen the aftermath of famine spread out across the daily news. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to face it in person. “It must have been difficult.”
“Not at first.” Her voice was dead, empty. “If you’ve seen one famine, you’ve seen them all.”
“Sam,” he whispered hoarsely, wincing at the harsh tone of her voice His heart lurched at the thought of Sam caught up in that sort of tragedy. Suddenly it was more than a headline, more than a story.
“I did what I was there for. Half the village had already been wiped out. Disease follows famine, of course. Most of the elderly and the very young were already gone.” She took a deep breath. “They were the lucky ones.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I was supposed to be there for a couple of days. But my guide got sick and I was stuck there for nearly a week. We’d brought supplies, food and fresh water.”
“But not enough for a week,” he guessed.
“Right. We rationed it, eating in our tent so we wouldn’t have to look at them—” Sam’s voice broke on the last word. “I wanted to share what we had, but Benji, my guide, said there wouldn’t be enough.”
“There was nothing you could do,” he soothed, knowing how empty the words were in the face of her agony.
“No. There wasn’t. All I could do was take pictures. By the fifth day, I was feeling light-headed because I’d been giving most of my food to Benji.” Her hand was clammy against his chest as her fingers curled into a fist. “He felt better and we decided to leave the next day. I intended to talk to their government, get them some emergency relief.”
Jake could imagine what that had garnered her. “What happened?”
“That evening, a young woman came to me. She begged me to go with her.”
The hair stood up on the back of his neck. “Did you?”
She nodded against his chest. “She took me to her house. She had two young children—a boy and a girl. She wanted me to take them when we left the village.”
“Why?”
“They were sick.” Sam’s voice was thick with tears. “They’d eaten some spoiled food. She thought I could get help for them. She looked so frail herself, I don’t know how she had the energy to walk.”
“Wasn’t there a doctor in the village?”
She shook her head. “He’d died. I wanted to take the children with me but Benji said they’d never make it. I didn’t want to believe it, but he was right. They were dying.”
Jake could feel moisture against his chest and realized she was crying.
“I stayed with her the rest of the night and held her hand. The children were so sick and she was terrified. I didn’t know what to do.” Sam’s voice trailed off in the darkness. “By morning, the children were dead.”
Jake had to swallow past the knot in his throat. “And the mother?”
“She was inconsolable.” Sam turned her head into his shoulder and he held her tighter, trying to cushion her from the pain. “When we left the next morning, she stood apart from the others, watching me. I went to her and she hugged me like I’d done something.”
“You did. You stayed with her.”
Sam’s hands moved restlessly against his chest. “It wasn’t enough. I don’t know why, but I took her picture as we were leaving.” She sighed quietly. “I wanted to capture her strength in that picture.”
It all clicked together in Jake’s mind “That was the Pulitzer.”
She nodded against him. “Instead of helping her, I took her picture and won a prize.”
“What else could you have done?”
Her voice broke, a dry sob escaping. “I don’t know. I tried to go to the government. They didn’t want to listen. I was asked to leave the country.” She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I tried to find out what had happened to the village, but no one would give me any information.”
Jake didn’t know what to say to her. He’d seen enough people die to know that helpless feeling, that sense of unbearable loss. He’d felt it when Charlie was killed. He’d felt it at the diner.
“When I got back to the States, my editor wanted the pictures. I handed over the film. Two days later, they were plastered all over the wire.” She shuddered in his arms.
“It was your job.”
She sobbed quietly, wrapped up in her own grief. ’ “I wanted to be a photographer, not witness misery and be helpless to do anything about it.”
She rolled away from him, her back pale in the moonlight. His fingers caressed the nape of her neck. She looked so vulnerable. So alone. He was lost.
“Sam, Sam,” he groaned, curling around her, trying to protect her from the demons that assailed her from within.
“I didn’t want the Pulitzer. I tried to turn it down. I was taking new assignments, being careful not to get too involved, not to care too much. Then they had to go and reward me.” She spat the words out, anger and pain oozing from her.
“I’ve seen the photograph,” he murmured against her hair. “It’s haunting. Incredible.”
“Incredible? It was horrific. The prize money would have fed that village for a year. I gave the money to charity, hoping it would do some good.” She sighed, her body going limp against his. “I didn’t want the money. I never wanted what it represented .”
“That picture you took reminds us all how fragile we are, Sam. You captured the essence of human existence.”
“She was in so much pain. I couldn’t forget her face, no matter how much I tried,” Sam whispered, her body rigid as her own thoughts took her to a place she didn’t want to go. “I watched her through the lens, thinking I was protected from her pain, numb to it.” Sam twisted in his arms and he could see the tears shimmering on her lashes.
“Why did you leave New York?” He knew the answer, but also knew she had to say it.
“When the announcement I’d won came, it was like I was back there, with her. I couldn’t live with myself for profiting from her pain. When the job in Atlanta came up, I took it. ‘Safe, easy, nobody dies’—so much for that theory.”
He pulled her close, feeling her tremble with emotion. She felt so good against him; but he couldn’t think about pleasure, only about pain. Her pain.
It struck him that he wasn’t so different from her. “When my partner died, I felt like that. I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone. I didn’t want to have anyone’s life—or death—hanging over my head.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “We all have demons, Sam. You were just trying to conquer yours.”
Her eyes closed and she sighed deeply. Jake could almost feel the tension unraveling in her as her body relaxed against him. “I know. I’d done pretty well, too. Until all this started happening to me. Until you.”
“You’ll get through this,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She nuzzled against him and he let out a groan as her arm went around his neck and she pulled his mouth down to hers. “I know. Thanks to you.”
The kiss seared him with a white-hot jolt of arousal. “Any time,” he whispered, delving into the satiny depths of her mouth, tasting her, tasting the salty tears. He couldn’t get enough. Part of him—the self-preserving side—didn’t want to be responsible for her happiness.
But on a purer level, he wanted to erase her pain, make her forget. If only for tonight.
Jake pulled her over on top of him, so that she was straddling him. Her eyes still had that faraway, sad look, but her smile was pure sin. “How about now?”
Desire rumbled up through him, making him even harder than he already was. “Sure, sweetheart,” he drawled. His hands spanned the softness of her hips, pulling her closer. He nudged the hot, wet center of her with his erection, drowning in her gasp of raw pleasure.
“Jake!”
His hands moved to her breasts, teasing her nipples into hard pebbles of arousal. “I promised you tonight,” he said, filling her. “And tonight isn’t over yet.”
“I hope it never is,” she murmured against his mouth.
Chapter 12
Sam woke up with a start, her heart pounding. Morning light was just beginning to creep into the room. The television in the corner was on, the eerie glow and sound of static reminding her where she was. Jake had turned the television on after they’d made love again, embarrassed by his need for noise. She remembered his confession about not wanting to be responsible for anyone and she wondered what demons still tormented him.
She could feel his warmth surrounding her like a cocoon. Sleeping with him felt right. Actually, when she thought about it, being with Jake was the only part of her life that seemed to make sense.
She was lying on her side, with Jake’s arm draped over her, his fingers grazing her breast. She felt satiated, replete. And thirsty. She slipped out from under Jake’s arm and slid to the edge of the bed. Sitting up, she jumped when her feet touched something warm and furry.
Fletcher let out a low woof and she petted his head. He really was a good dog, even if he wasn’t the best watchdog. Edging past him, she turned the air conditioner down, shivering in the cool blast. As she carefully crossed to the bathroom, the sound of Jake’s even breathing let her know she hadn’t woken him. Funny, she’d expected him to be a light sleeper.
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