Playing to Win

by Sami Lee

  His soft laugh resounded in her ear, an electrifying caress on her senses. “I think that was a vibrator.”

  “It was not.”

  “I know what a vibrator sounds like.”

  “You would.”

  Which of your many previous women showed you her vibrator and where should I mail the letter bomb?

  “They have their uses,” he said, unrepentant. “Mind you, they’re not a replacement for the real thing.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Abbi retorted. “They can do some pretty amazing stuff.”

  “I know.”

  She heard a noise like a creaking hinge, and Abbi realized it was a bed spring. Sam was in bed. And so was she. They were talking in bed, and suddenly she yearned to have him next to her, so they could really talk. After they did all the other things she wanted to do with him.

  Oh, help.

  “So why don’t you tell me what yours does.”

  “I’m not doing that. Can’t you tell when a person’s embarrassed beyond belief and would like out of a conversation?”

  “Yeah, but—” he sighed, a shuddering sound, “—you were thinking about me and you had to get out a sex toy. That’s just about the greatest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Abbi managed to gather enough indignation to sound at least peeved. “I could have been thinking about Chris Evans, or Idris Elba. What makes you so sure I was thinking about you?”

  “Because I was thinking about you.”

  Something sucked all the air out of the room. Suddenly, Abbi felt like she was suffocating. Her heart beat so fast she couldn’t begin to guess at the rate of her pulse. Her lungs felt compressed, incapable of performing the basic functions that made life possible. Weakened, she fell back against the pillows with an audible flop. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. I was lying here with the boner from hell because I can’t stop fantasizing about you. And you’ve just made it a hundred times worse.”

  Abbi closed her eyes, fighting the need to whimper. She asked, as much of herself as of Sam, “What are you doing to me?”

  “Not nearly as much as I want to,” he growled. “Do you want me to come over?”

  Did she want him to? She couldn’t answer that honestly. “Sam—”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “No,” she managed to choke out. If he came over, she’d be utterly lost. “Don’t.”

  “Damn it, Abbi.”

  “I don’t think I can do what you want.”

  “The hell you can’t,” he told her.

  “You know what I mean. My job—”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  “It’s not just that. I’m not sure I can have just sex with you, Sam. I thought I could, last time, but I don’t think I can. I might…want more.”

  There was a pause, Abbi could swear she actually heard him swallow. Then, “I want more too.”

  Abbi’s heart jolted. “Really?”

  Sam chuckled, but it was a tense sound, not as cocksure and amiable as it usually was. “What do you think all those flowers were supposed to say?”

  “I don’t know.” Abby laughed too. “God. I don’t know what I’m doing. I must be nuts.”

  “Can we figure out which one of us is more nuts after?”

  “After what?”

  “Abbi.”

  “Oh.” Abbi bit her lip as it curved. It was sort of heady, having his power. Sam wanted her, bad. He knew she wanted him, so much she’d been giving her vibe a workout. Yet he wasn’t going to storm over here as his libido was telling him to do unless she invited him.

  Had she ever really thought him a Neanderthal? He was, in his own brash way, a true gentleman.

  “Abbi, if you don’t want—”

  Abbi cut him off. “Come over.”

  Not even a split second’s hesitation. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  The phone made its little beeping sound, letting Abbi know the connection had been broken. She stared at the device for several moments, eventually placing it with great care on the nightstand. It took her a while to get her mind around what had just happened.

  Sam had caught her masturbating. She’d admitted it and even more horrifying, she’d admitted she wanted something more than a hook up.

  But he’d said the same.

  He must like her. Like really like her.

  And he was coming over.

  Now.

  He’ll be here in ten minutes.

  She checked her phone. Make that seven minutes.

  “Oh my God!” She screamed and leapt to her feet as reality hit. She raced to the bathroom and cleaned her teeth, then splashed water on her face. Abbi stared at the woman in front of her—hair wild, eyes bright, cheeks flushed—and knew she was in trouble. In theory she could change her mind when he got here, but she knew she wasn’t going to.

  “All right, you crazy person.” Abbi pointed at her reflection. “Since you’re so determined to do this, I’m counting on you to have the strength to handle it.”

  In the stillness of late night, Abbi heard the distinctive thrum of Sam’s Maserati as it pulled into the car park, then the creak of the security gate as it opened.

  She looked at herself again—really looked this time. She was wearing her oldest blue and white gingham boxer shorts and a faded Betty Boop T-shirt. Hardly the most seductive attire. Hell no, she did not want Sam to see her in this, but did she have time to change?

  Abbi hastened to her chest of drawers. She was determined to at least look like a grown-assed woman who slept in lingerie instead of a slob who wore her T-shirts until the stitching fell apart at the seams.

  “Abbi.”

  It was Sam’s voice, coming to her from the open door of her bedroom. Abbi went to the sliding glass door and pushed it all the way open so she could step out onto the balcony. “Sam?” she hissed. “What on earth are you doing down there?”

  “Asking to come up. It’s the last polite nicety I’m giving you.”

  Yes. She wanted him like that—Sam Cormack, the unrestrained animal. Abbi’s knees turned to water at the thought.

  “Because you’re a smart woman, I’ll assume your door is locked.” His voice was low and sort of menacing. In a totally hot way. “Unlock it for me.”

  “You can’t come in yet,” Abbi burst out. “I have to change.”

  His gaze flickered from her face to her chest, moving over her loose pajama shorts before trailing slowly back up. The heat of his perusal warred with the cool night air to make her feel feverish. “You look perfect. Let me in.”

  Abbi shook her head. “I’ll be five minutes.” The look on his face pushed her to add, “Three and a half, maximum. Wait there.”

  He growled. “Abbi, I’ve been waiting. I’ve turned blue in certain areas from all the waiting.”

  “Shh, someone will hear you,” she warned, but she was giggling.

  “I’m bloody serious!”

  “So am I. Three minutes, tops. Stay there.”

  Dashing back inside, she hastily sorted through the contents of her dresser drawer. White cotton, grey cotton, black cotton. Boring, boring, boring. She grabbed a pair of satiny blue boxers that came with a matching camisole top which was…somewhere. She continued searching for the camisole while, one handed, she replaced the gingham pants for the blue silk.

  At last, she located the camisole. She ripped the ugly T-shirt over her head.

  “That’s a waste of time.”

  Sam’s voice had Abbi whirling around and screaming in shock. She clutched the camisole over her breasts. She was too stunned to form words.

  “Your balcony’s not that far off the ground,” he explained as he stepped toward her.

  “You…you climbed onto my balcony?”

  “Another three minutes was going to kill me,” he explained. “Patience is not one of my many virtues.”

  He didn’t look the slightest bit virtuous as he came to stand before her. Many virtues indeed. He’d left himself wide open
for a caustic rejoinder, but Abbi couldn’t for the life of her think of one when his eyes, bright with desire and resolve, looked her over. Without further preamble, he plucked the satin top from her weak-with-shock grip.

  Abbi gasped and crossed her arms over her bared chest. Silly, since he’d already seen her naked once. But that night she’d been confident in her sexiness and the hall light had been fairly dim. This was her bedroom, and somehow it was different. This time, she knew one quick encounter wasn’t going to be the end of it, and she was crazy nervous.

  Sam showed her his dangerous half smile and tugged on her hands, threading his fingers through hers and spreading her arms at her sides so there was nothing left to obstruct his view.

  “I already told you.” He dipped his head to her breast and whispered his lips across the sensitive peak. It throbbed and flourished to life. “You look perfect.”

  Abbi forgot to breathe as he enclosed her flesh with his hot lips. He circled his tongue, tracing the disc of her areola before flicking over the pointed tip of her breast in quick, light strokes that made her want more. She tightened her grip on his hands, needing to balance herself before she fell over. He took it as encouragement and pulled her nipple, full and hard, into his mouth.

  Abbi cried out as he sucked, the pleasure so intense it was close to pain. Her head fell back, dizziness swamping her. It was all happening so fast. One minute, she had been alone fantasizing about Sam, and the next, he was here, driving her mad with his mouth, his masculine heat and his spicy scent. It seemed like a dream, disjointed and surreal. She was floating miles above reality and she didn’t want to come back down.

  “Sam. Oh, Sam.” She sighed and arched her back while he switched his attention to the other breast. She recalled sighing his name earlier, an impersonal sex toy between her legs. Now he was here, the real thing, and the knowledge made her pussy clench with heated anticipation. Words she’d never uttered to another soul spilled from her lips. “Fuck me, Sam. Fuck me, hard. Now.”

  Sam swore and moved forward, effectively pushing her back onto the bed. She fell and bounced and clutched Sam’s shoulders, lifting her hips eagerly as he impatiently hauled her satin shorts over her legs. He ripped his shirt off before coming down on her, his mouth covering hers, open and blisteringly hot. He thrust his tongue into her mouth as she drove her hips against his. The denim of his jeans was rough and erotic, but not what she wanted. She yearned to feel his silken skin sliding against hers, and Abbi reached to tug his fly open with hasty movements.

  Sam groaned and rolled to the side enough for her to accomplish the task. She pushed the jeans partway down his thighs until his erection sprang out, jaunty and pulsing with life. With a sigh of satisfaction, she reached forward, wrapping her hands around him. His eyes fell closed and Abbi watched, her boldness justified by the small, desperate sounds he made. She reached down farther and cupped his testes in her hand and his hips bucked.

  When he opened his eyes again, she was smiling. “Abbi, Abbi, Abbi…” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, produced a cardboard box and threw it on the bed.

  Abbi glanced at it. “Is that a twelve pack?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She arched a brow. “A little sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Sure of this. Sure of us.” He brushed her hair back from her face, cupped her jaw with a tender hand. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, and I have a feeling twelve times will be only the beginning.”

  Abbi couldn’t respond to that because her voice box wouldn’t work. It wasn’t a line, not with the way he was looking at her. All the flowers and the notes, the late-night phone calls—he hadn’t been trying to win her over just because he was the type that played to win and losing was anathema to him. He wanted her. Really wanted her.

  “Oh, boy. You sure know how to make a girl melt, Sam Cormack.”

  His brows hiked. “With prophylactics? If that floats your boat, I’ll bring twenty-four next time.”

  “I’d settle for one right now.”

  “You got it,” he said, his blue eyes glittering.

  He fought with the packet for a moment before withdrawing a foil square. He ripped it open with his teeth and quickly sheathed his cock. “Say it again, what you said before.”

  That had been a spontaneous outburst. It was a little awkward saying it deliberately, so Abbi whispered it, feeling heat infuse her. “Fuck me now. Please.”

  His smile was full of carnal delight and wondrous amazement. “I’ve never known a girl to talk like that and blush at the same time.”

  “I am from Nebraska,” Abbi said. “My parents would be scandalized.”

  The end of the word rushed out of her on a gasp as Sam buried himself to the hilt in her waiting wetness.

  Their joined flesh felt incredible. There was a sharp moment when her muscles expanded to contain him before dissolving into a warm, liquid weight that melted her very core to a mass of pleasurable sensations. It was so good she wanted to cry. He withdrew enough that he could plunge in again, faster, harder, and she almost did.

  “Abbi.” His hoarse whisper made Abbi realize she had her eyelids clamped shut. She breathed, praying for strength as she eased them open.

  His eyes gleamed, his face set in grim lines. His shoulders shook with strain and he was breathing as hard as she was, their chests puffing in and out so they brushed together over and over. Abbi’s nipples peaked stiffly against his hard pectorals. She was suspended in time, like the feeling she got at the top of a roller coaster, the instant before it dropped down that steep decline and the world went topsy-turvy.

  “You said you want me hard, honey, but I don’t want to hurt you. Are you sure?”

  She’d never been more sure of anything. “Yes. Hard and fast.”

  His lips twisted wryly. “Actually, fast wasn’t negotiable.”

  He pulled out almost all the way this time and plunged back home as swiftly and brutally as she’d asked. Abbi cried out, the pleasure intense, and arched to meet his thrusts as he drove into her again and again. He grasped her hips, digging in his fingers to hold her still. It freed her to concentrate on the feeling of his cock filling her, penetrating her pussy and stimulating the nerve endings in her vaginal walls. The universe shrank to that point and Abbi lost herself. Her climax pushed a long moan from her throat that ended in a whimper that was Sam’s name. A moment later, Sam’s spine curved and his cocked pulsed, spilling his essence as he groaned his release.

  Abbi wrapped her arms around him as he buried his face in her neck. Slowly, she realized the trembling she felt wasn’t only the aftershocks coursing through her own body. Sam’s back muscles shuddered as she slid her hands over them and something inside Abbi that she desperately wanted to keep closed opened in defiance.

  If he got spooked again like he had last time they’d gotten to this point, his withdrawal was going to hurt like hell.

  Should have thought of that ten minutes ago.

  There was soft humor in the words he murmured against her neck. “And you said you couldn’t do this.”

  If he was being deliberately obtuse about what she’d meant on the phone, Abbi was relieved to go along with it. “I stand—or at least lie—corrected.”

  “I’ll do better this time. I’ll hold you until you wake up. I’ll kiss you and touch you and be here until dawn breaks. I want to stay, Abbi. All night. I could even cook breakfast.”

  Oh, hell. Abbi’s hands curled into fists on his back. Did he have to be so darn wonderful right now? Nonchalance was an effort. “You cook?”

  Sam lifted his head and grinned. “I’m one quarter Italian.”

  “I had no idea. So that explains your hot-headedness.”

  “Nah, that comes from the Scottish blood. The Cormacks fought alongside William Wallace back in the day.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Not sure, but it’s a good story.” He smiled his rakish smile. “I hope you have eggs. I can do a mean omelet, but that’s
pretty much all I do for breakfast food.”

  “And after you talked up your cooking skills.” Abbi exaggerated a roll of her eyes. “I don’t know about the eggs. Maybe you should go check.”

  “I’m busy right now.” He slid his mouth onto hers, gliding his tongue through the open seam of her lips. He kissed her with a languorous rhythm that teased and seduced, that tasted as delicious and sweet as chocolate fudge. The kiss deepened, became the beginning of something more. He rolled until her body draped over his, their lips still melded in the kiss that might never end. Gradually, Abbi shifted her weight until they rolled again and Sam was above her, where she wanted him. She wanted him within her again too, almost as desperately as before.

  He speared his hands through her hair where it lay fanned out on the mattress. He slowed the kiss and at last dragged his mouth from hers. “I love your mouth, Abbi. I love the way you kiss, like you can’t get enough.”

  She couldn’t. She smiled and gave him his due. “You’re a very good kisser.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere. I just have one question.”

  “Hmm?”

  He reached above her head and lifted something from the mattress. When he brought it down to her eye level, Abbi saw with a swift rush of humiliation that it was the discarded vibrator. “Do they model these things on real guys?”

  Abbi screamed and buried her face in his chest. “I don’t know!”

  “Guys who’ve been in some kind of radiation accident? Like the incredible hulk?” Sam continued. “I mean, this is huge.”

  Abbi sneaked a peek at his face. “You’re huge enough for me.”

  He cocked his head and grinned, making Abbi realize what she’d thought was a flash of insecurity was just Sam teasing her. “Glad to hear it.”

  She swatted him on the shoulder. “Put that thing away.”

  “I don’t know. I did interrupt you earlier.” His gaze gleamed with mischievous intent as he flicked the toy’s on switch. He lifted his eyebrows as it whirred to life. “Now I can’t do that.”

  “Sam, stop teasing.”

  “Who says I’m teasing?” He rolled to his side, propping his head on his hand as he moved the vibrator down to the juncture of her thighs. His voice dropped to a seductive rumble. “I want to see how this huge thing fits into such a small, tight space.”