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Playing to Win

Page 8

by Sami Lee


  Abbi bucked when he touched the shuddering device to her sensitized clit. He massaged the spot and she rocked her hips involuntarily. Oh God, he really meant it. She’d never been so embarrassed, or so aroused, in her life. None of her previous boyfriends had ever brought her vibrator into their sex life. She’d never even confessed to having one.

  “That must feel good.” He held her eyes. “Does it?”

  Struck mute, Abbi nodded. He continued to softly rub the device over her post-climactically sensitized bud, watching with open enjoyment as her lower body responded of its own volition. After a while, he bent his head and laved her nipple with his tongue, spreading the pleasure up Abbi’s body until her throat felt hot.

  Still teasing her breasts with soft kisses, Sam shifted the vibrator lower until it pulsed at her opening. He swirled it around her entrance, the move made easy by the abundance of juice that flowed from her core. “You’re so wet, honey.” He lifted his head and stared hard into her eyes. “Let’s see how good this feels.” Slowly, he inched the tip of the dildo into her lubricated passage.

  Abbi gasped, a sound of both discomfort and delight. The toy was so thick. It stretched muscles already enervated from Sam’s invasion, making her breath shallow.

  “Is that okay?”

  “More than okay.” The vibrations teased her nerve endings, sent sensations of pure joy fluttering through her womb.

  Watching her face, Sam pushed the silicone cock farther in, until Abbi felt it cramming her pussy full, every millimeter of her straining to accommodate the invasion. She didn’t think she’d ever pushed it in so far before. “Oh my God.”

  “Christ, Abbi. I have to watch.” He got to his knees between her legs and stared with avid interest at her weeping, stretched center. He moved the vibrator, stroking it inside her, watching as it went in and out.

  Sam groaned. “God, Abs. You should see how hot this looks.”

  Abbi writhed in mingled arousal and distress. The dildo filled her up, agitating her inner muscles until they hummed with delight. The heat of Sam’s gaze on her heightened the excitement to a desperate pitch.

  She rasped. “I can’t take it.”

  “Poor, sweet Abbi.” Carefully, he withdrew the toy and tossed it aside, filling the vacated space with two long fingers that stroked her with mobile warmth. The feeling was different, easier to handle and in some way so much better. Then he bent his head and clamped her swollen clit in his lips, gently suckling her to a fast, furious orgasm.

  He waited for the spasms to ebb before withdrawing his fingers. The look in his eyes, voracious and flinty with intent, stole what little breath she had left. Without a word, he put on another condom and flipped her onto her stomach. He grasped her hips and dragged her back as he surged forward, seating himself with one skillful thrust inside her still-quaking crevice.

  Her heart rate never had a chance to slow down. Her pulse beat a tattoo in her veins as Sam’s dick rhythmically stroked her inner walls. He grabbed her buttocks in his hands and spread her cheeks. She was slick with fluid, his cock sliding with erotic ease within her. “I’ve thought about taking you from behind like this. God, I love your ass.” He gave her flesh an impertinent pinch, following it with a resounding slap.

  At Abbi’s yelp of surprise, Sam chuckled. “You’re a very naughty girl, making me wait so long to have you like this. Do you think I ought to spank you?”

  Oh, hell!

  Before she could formulate a response, Sam’s hand came down on her ass once again. Abbi bucked, the sting sending ripples of sensation through her that caused her to spasm around Sam’s shaft.

  “Ah, hell.” His voice betrayed wonder. “You like it, don’t you?”

  Abbi grit her teeth to keep from answering. She couldn’t believe this was happening. The next blow was a bit harder, just enough to hurt a little. Her pussy clenched hard around Sam, wetness spilling inside and further lubricating his strokes.

  “Do you like it?” Sam demanded, then slapped her again.

  The leap of sensation brought her up against the wall of another orgasm and shock made Abbi admit, “Yes. Oh, yes. I like it. Don’t stop.”

  “Christ.” He alternatively spanked and fucked her, the twin sensations of his hand inflicting the mild, titillating pain and his cock thundering inside her ever-dampening tunnel overwhelming Abbi. She wouldn’t have thought it possible to come again. Yet she found herself being pushed to the edge as Sam took her like a pirate, as though he cared only for his own pleasure. It was perversely thrilling, his high-handedness, the uncivilized way he fucked into her and slapped her ass. With a shout of stunned ecstasy, she came.

  “My God…Abbi,” Sam groaned a moment later, his thrusts jerking to a stop as he reached his own climax.

  Abbi collapsed on the bed, so stunned her ears rang. Had she really just done that?

  Sam came down beside her, laying a trail of kisses along her spine. When he reached her shoulder, he moved her hair aside and placed his hot lips softly against her nape. His chest brushed her back and a shudder of delight rippled through Abbi. That he could have any effect on her at all after she’d been so thoroughly satisfied was astonishing. In fact, she was amazed she was still breathing.

  He settled down beside her and pulled her back against him. She could feel his heart thudding against her shoulder blade. When he didn’t speak for long moments, she thought he’d fallen asleep, but then his voice came soft and raspy in her ear. “I need to tell you something.”

  Abbi shifted on the pillow so she’d hear him. “What?”

  “I acted like an ass when we first met.”

  “Oh, Sam. This is a shock. I don’t know how I’m going to process it.”

  “You’re hilarious,” he drawled. “What I mean is, I did it on purpose.”

  Somehow, she’d known he was irritating her intentionally. What she’d never understood was why. “And now you have a yen to explain yourself?”

  He pushed out a sigh that tickled her earlobe. “It was all bullshit. The stuff with my wife. I know you’re aware of my history.”

  It gave Abbi a disconcerting pang of raging jealously to hear him say the words my wife. That was insane. He was right. She was aware of his history and had already known he’d been married. She was losing her mind. “You don’t have to tell me this, Sam.”

  “I do, at least this much. Tiffani never really loved me, you see, but I was too blind to recognize it at first. At least, not until after we got married. It was the wedding she’d wanted most, the photos in magazines, her name on the news. I realized pretty quick it was the spotlight she craved, and being with me was just a means to an end.”

  Abbi’s irrational jealousy turned into pure unadulterated disgust. What kind of bitch was this woman? Sam was a rare find, and the idea of someone using him so mercilessly…it made Abbi see red. “That’s messed up. I’d scratch her eyes out if we ever met.”

  “Well, that’s disturbingly hot. Thanks, beautiful.”

  He accompanied the endearment with the light brush of his lips over her ear. Abbi shivered with delight. “So when you broke up, she invented a bogus emotional abuse claim because that fed the hungry media wolves, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s it exactly.” His lips curve against her neck. “You’re one smart cookie.”

  “I work with the media all the time. I know what they can be like.”

  “That’s what I thought you were like in the beginning. You were part of the media and I wasn’t inclined to trust you. Or make things easy on you.”

  Abbi shifted onto her back so she could look up at him properly. “I’m not the media, Sam. I work with them. I’m supposed to help you with them.”

  “Took me a while to get that.” He grinned. “I’m not as smart as you.”

  “Sure you are, but you’ve had bad experiences. I understand.”

  “So you know I never did any of those things to Tiffani?”

  “I’ve been working with you for over three months. If I th
ought you were the type of man to abuse a woman in any way, I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer when I asked to be reassigned.”

  “I thought after what just happened you might…” His voice rang with sincerity and there were earnest lines between his eyebrows. “I’d never hurt you, Abs. Not for anything in the world.”

  “I know that too.” If he hurt her, it would be accidental, like if he couldn’t love her the way she needed to be loved. The way she…loved him.

  Oh, Abbi, you fool.

  “I know I behaved like a bit of brat when we first met.” He smiled sheepishly, and it was so cute that Abbi found herself forgiving him for all of it. “I don’t know why I couldn’t accept that I needed you and deal with it.”

  Abbi’s heart skipped before she reminded herself he was talking about her professional services, not saying he needed her. “Maybe it’s because you’re a…what was it? That’s right, an emotionally stunted boy-man.”

  “Ha! You didn’t think I was a boy a few minutes ago when I was spanking your ass and making you come.”

  Abbi blushed furiously at the reminder and his expression eased into that cocky smile Abbi knew and loved.

  Yes, loved. Lord help her. How could she not love a man who made her heart leap when he walked into a room, who climbed over her balcony to get to her? How could she keep her heart guarded against someone who visited a kid he didn’t even know in the hospital?

  How could she keep from loving someone who made her feel so good?

  “You were really into it, weren’t you? The spanking thing.”

  Abbi widened her eyes in a facsimile of innocence. Best to at least try to keep things light, make everything between them about the sex. Then Sam wouldn’t figure out that she’d fallen in love with him. It was too much, too soon and no matter what Sam had said about wanting more, the depth of her feelings was bound to scare him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Liar.” Sam settled his body fully over hers, bringing heat like a blanket and desire as hot and instantly flaring as a lit match. “I’d do it again to prove the point, but that’s not how I want you this time. This time I’m going to take it slow, kiss your body everywhere so I know how every inch of it tastes.”

  “Oh, really?” Abbi pretended an air of nonchalance, but her heart was thrumming, her body dampening in anticipation. “Sounds like it’s going to take a while.”

  His grin was wolfish. “For you, I’ve got all the time in the world.”

  Abbi curved her lips, held the smile in place until Sam’s face was buried in her stomach, moving downwards, and he was too distracted to notice the way it slipped.

  All the time in the world sounded pretty darn good to her, but it was just a figure of speech. She’d do well to remember that.

  Chapter 7

  A week later, Sam got back from his morning jog, swiped the paper from the front lawn and headed into house. He whistled as he bounded into the kitchen and grabbed himself a sports drink from the fridge. He gulped several mouthfuls, sighed with satisfaction and grinned. He had a lot to do today, and he was psyched to get started.

  Abbi was coming over tonight and he was going to cook her a meal.

  Once upon a time—hell, even a few months ago—Sam would never have done anything so domestic with a woman. He wouldn’t have wanted to give her the wrong impression. For instance, that he was serious about her and wanted to spend many more nights together in domestic bliss. But with Abbi, that wasn’t the wrong impression at all. He did want to spend many more nights with her. He wanted to curl up with her to watch the tube and make out with her during the adverts. He wanted to see her face creams in his bathroom. He wanted to cook for her and drive her to the dentist and do all that regular boyfriend stuff.

  In short, he wanted her in his life, not merely on the outskirts of it. And tonight was the first time she’d allowed him to take their relationship in that direction. For the past week, he’d spent every night at her apartment steaming up the sheets with her. They’d ordered takeout food and devoured it and each other. They’d laughed and told secrets in the dark. But though he’d asked to take her out to dinner a few times, she’d demurred.

  Sam got that. It wouldn’t look good for her if their affair became public knowledge. Yet her insistence on keeping them under wraps still stung a little, because he knew it meant she wasn’t as ready to shout it from the rooftops as Sam was.

  “I have to give her time, don’t I, guys?” Sam spoke to the assortment of tropical fish that swam in the aquarium he’d set up in his living room. “Too bad I’m an impatient bugger.”

  Not surprisingly, the fish didn’t answer. Sam chuckled at himself. If it had been feasible, he’d rather have a dog, but he figured the amount he travelled made it hard on a pet who might actually miss him. One day, he promised himself, he’d get his dream house complete with a couple of Australian Kelpies, the kind of dog he’d had as a kid. And he’d share all that with the right woman.

  More and more lately, he was convinced that woman was Abbi.

  Sam hit the shower, singing “You’re Just Too Good to be True” as he soaped up. When he was done, he dressed in fresh jeans and a Miami Alligators T-shirt and went back to the kitchen to make toast. He ate it at the breakfast bench while sipping coffee and flicking through the paper. Most people nowadays got their news online, but Sam enjoyed the sensation of turning the pages, the smell of the ink as he read the news. He scanned stories about local politics and crime, eventually making it to the sports section and football.

  And him.

  Sam bypassed the article about the trading of a quarterback to Atlanta, his attention caught by the snippet below the fold. It featured a photo of him, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, leaving the hospital where he’d been visiting Holly. The headline read “Miami Alligators Player Makes Sick Girl’s Year.”

  His blood simmered as he read the text. It was all there. The fact he’d visited Holly in hospital, that she was being treated for Leukemia. They even knew about the money he’d anonymously given to Holly’s mother to help pay her expenses. How had they known about that? He hadn’t told anyone.

  Except Abbi.

  The heat left his bloodstream. No. He’d asked her never to leak this story, and she’d promised she wouldn’t. Abbi wasn’t like Tiffani. He trusted her.

  Sam dropped his gaze to the end of the article. “A source at Cormack’s publicity company states: ‘It’s just like Sam Cormack to do something so generous. It’s a side of him the world rarely sees.’”

  “Fuck,” Sam muttered, feeling stunned. Betrayed. He couldn’t believe Abbi would use Holly Johnson’s situation to win him more media brownie points, not after she’d promised not to. He couldn’t believe it.

  He just couldn’t fucking believe it.

  In a flurry of movement, Sam grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out to his car. With a screech of tires, he headed towards the offices of Prince PR.

  * * * *

  Abbi was feeling nervous as she got into her office and switched on her computer. Nervous and, she had to say, more than a little excited. Before Sam had left her in the early hours of the morning, he’d convinced her to go to his place for dinner tonight. He said he wanted to cook.

  And like a big doe-eyed dummy, she’d agreed. She’d agreed and she was looking forward to it. Way too forward to it, considering how intimate and domestic a dinner date at his house was. Something about his invitation had screamed relationship instead of secret affair, or perhaps it had been the way he’d grinned and fist pumped the air when she’d said yes.

  Whatever it was, tonight felt like a step in a very dangerous direction. A direction that would take her to Hoping-for-Happy-Ever-After Town. Next stop after that was bound to be Heartbroken-and-Disillusioned City.

  Although, as Abbi opened her mail and scanned the subject headers for important messages, she had to admit that Sam hadn’t given her a single reason to believe he was about to dump her. He seemed
to genuinely enjoy spending time with her, and she sure as hell loved being with him. Three months ago, she would never have believed she’d feel this way about him of all people, but she’d gotten to know him on a deeper level than the one she’d first seen. He was so sweet and funny, and generous and sexy…

  One of her email’s subject lines caught her eye. “Good job on the latest Cormack thing”. The message was from Madeline, who worked at the Gators’ headquarters. When Abbi opened it, there was no explanation, just a smiley face and an invitation to lunch later in the week.

  Frowning, Abbi scanned the rest of her inbox until she saw one from Larry Prince. It was entitled “Come to my office when you get in”. The message contained nothing but Larry’s signature line.

  Uh oh. Something about that seemed ominous. The sense that the two emails were somehow related had Abbi opening up her internet browser before she answered her employer’s summons. She typed Sam’s name into the search engine and sorted the hits by most recent.

  “Miami Alligators Player Makes Sick Girl’s Year.” The headline led to an article in The Herald, which Abbi read with growing dread.

  “It is believed Cormack began visiting the girl after a publicity stunt at the children’s ward was arranged by his publicist…the ‘anonymous’ donation could only have come from one person…

  A source at Cormack’s publicity company states: “It’s just like Sam Cormack to do something so generous. It’s a side of him the world rarely sees.”

  “Oh, no,” Abbi groaned. “No, no, no.”

  She had no idea how the journalist had gotten the story. Perhaps one of the nurses at the hospital had recognized Sam and gossiped. Or the journalist might have followed Sam—it wasn’t unheard of on a slow news day. In any case, it didn’t matter. Sam was going to believe it was her doing, that she was the source the article had quoted. It even sounded like something she’d say, because it was true. Sam was generous, with his time and his money, a fact he’d revealed to her two nights ago when he’d told her about wanting to contribute something to Holly’s medical care.

 

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