So I do.
“Ah!” Sammi moans, grabbing my hair and pulling me tight to her chest. I glide my hand up her back until it’s tangled in her hair at the base of her head.
I reach up and kiss her passionately, our tongues dancing together.
She wants me to lose control. I can feel her trembling beneath my hands—and it’s not because she’s cold. It’s because she’s so incredibly hot. Hot for me.
I press my rock-hard cock up against her pussy, letting it glide back and forth over the opening as I continue to kiss her.
“Lock,” she moans against my lips. “Please.”
“Good things come to those who wait, darl.”
“I don’t want to wait.” She raises her hips to meet my cock, but I pull back to prevent it from sliding in.
“Well, tough. I’m in charge here. Don’t worry, I’m gonna ravish you, I promise. I’m gonna make you cum over and over again.” I nip her bottom lip in between my teeth and gently flick my tongue over it.
“And then?” She purrs as she reaches down and begins stroking me. She’s a fucking temptress.
“Then I’m gonna make you my wife.” Her eyes lock with mine. They’re glimmering in the moonlight, reflecting nothing but me. I see a wide range of emotion in them. Excitement, hesitation, happiness and at the forefront of it all—desire.
Not breaking eye contact, I slide my cock into her pussy. Slowly. No need to rush this time, even if she is squirming and begging for it.
When I’m all the way in, with my hips flush with hers, I lean in and kiss her tenderly. I want to show her just how fucking serious I am about making her my wife. About loving only her for the rest of my life.
Hell, I’ve already been head over heels for her the last three years. She doesn’t need to know that, though.
She wraps her legs around me, pulling me close and running her hands up and down my abs. Her hips are gyrating, slowly but steadily. She throws her head back, and I lean down to kiss and suck on her neck.
I drag my tongue down her neck, licking water droplets from her smooth skin. I gently nip at her collarbone and pinch her left nipple, rubbing it back and forth between my fingers.
She cries out, and her pussy clamps down on my cock as she climaxes.
I start thrusting, keeping the pace steady but maintaining full control. It’s not long before her second orgasm rocks her body and she’s clawing at me. I feel her fingertips digging into my back, gripping tight as she leans back.
I pick up the pace, thrusting harder. “You feel so fucking good. I love the way it feels when you cum all over me,” I growl in her ear, grabbing her earlobe with my teeth. Her moans and hips are working to coax me on, but I don’t want to cum yet.
“Oh god, Lock!” I love the sound of my name escaping her mouth in the throes of ecstasy. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes half-lidded, but she’s never looked sexier.
Fuck Eggs. He doesn’t truly know just how amazing of a person Sammi is.
Sure, she can be annoyingly fucking headstrong. She’s all about logic—at least, until the tequila kicks in.
She makes me want to rip my hair out sometimes—okay, most times. And, yes, she’s forgotten every time we’ve fucked.
Then there’s that irritating way she calls me Crocodile Dundee. That’s one nickname I’d care never to hear again.
But she’s also an incredible work rival. She throws herself into her research and keeps pace with me as if it were nothing but a stroll in the park. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, and has a killer fucking bod.
Plus she’s a goddess in bed. I mean balls-to-the-wall passion. I’ve never fucked a woman that could hold a candle to Slammin’ Sammi; she’s at the top of my list by a long margin, and it’s no small sample size, that’s for fucking sure.
I grab her hips and hoist her off the rock, sliding her ass up and down my length. Looking down at me, she smiles. Her hair falls over my face, creating a curtain, and our lips come together.
I can feel everything she’s feeling in her passionate kiss. No words need to be said. Instead of professing my love, I show it. I deepen the kiss as I increase my movements.
The passion and desire between us is palpable. Our skin pressed together is the very embodiment of electricity. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before, and I never will again.
I knew it three years ago. I know it now.
Sure, some of this unbridled passion is the result of one very potent bottle of tequila, but there’s also something real between us. I can tell she’s feeling it, too.
Sammi is very honest with herself when she’s drunk. She lets loose, lets herself enjoy life, and goes after what she wants. And what she wants is not just my cock, though I’m more than happy to give it to her every time.
What she wants is me. She just won’t acknowledge that truth. Otherwise, why do we keep ending up in bed together?
Or in an alleyway, underneath a waterfall, in an aquarium? I’m what she desires.
“So…your wife, huh?” She flicks her tongue over my lips, before kissing my nose. “We’re really going to do this?”
“You betcha. I’ve got you right here in my arms, and I’m not gonna let you go. You’re gonna be Mrs. Williams. My bride.”
“Sweet talker.”
“Only for you, beautiful. Gotta make an honest woman out of you somehow,” I smirk.
Now I’m at the cusp of my desire, my cock is throbbing, and hers is clenching me tight, sucking me in like a fucking snapper.
I lean her back against the rock, throw her legs up on my shoulders. With one hand on her shoulder, I drive into her over and over again.
Harder.
Faster.
Each thrust is bringing me closer to my release, and I’m focused solely on her.
I grab her chin, forcing her to face me. “Look at me. I want to see your gorgeous fucking face when I cum.” She grins, panting, and I can feel her tightening around me.
“Lock! Don’t stop! God, don’t stop! Please!”
I pull her up, kissing her hard as I rock against her.
Fuck, this is the best sex I’ve ever had.
Chapter 23
Sammi
2:16 PM SATURDAY
Lock pulls the motorcycle over just outside of Bangkok, and it’s not a moment too soon. I don’t wait for him to say anything or even turn off the bike. I’ve fucking had it.
I jump off the bike and immediately start pacing.
The stress of this trip is already getting to me. I just wanted to enjoy one night out to celebrate my award and have one last hurrah before I tied the knot.
But, nooooooo.
“Seriously, what the fuck, Lock?” I reel around on him. “Every time you’re around, shit happens. Every. Fucking. Time. Why is it that at every conference or ceremony, you’re there?”
“In case you forgot, darl, we work in the same field,” he shrugs, finally hopping off the bike himself.
“Yeah, we do, but do you know how many other people work in the same field that I don’t see on a regular basis? I swear it’s like you’re stalking me.”
It’s the truth. I always see him. It’s like he materializes out of thin air and into the barstool next to me, bottle of tequila in hand.
Like a fucking genie that can’t get enough of me rubbing his lamp.
His long, hot la—
GAAAAH! Sammi, stop it!
“Really, Sammi? You’re going to fucking play it like that?”
“Play it like what, Lock?” I throw my hands up in the air.
“Me, stalking you? Not by a long shot. I’ve got women falling all over me, in case you haven’t noticed. If I end up at your side every fucking time we’re in the same city, it’s because you want it that way.” He jabs a finger at my chest accusingly.
I can’t help but laugh as I smack his finger away. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Maybe if you crawled out of your own ass once in a while, you’d see that you’re not all that fabulous.”
; “That’s why you end up in bed with me each time, screaming my name over and over, right?” He smirks, and memories of last night under the waterfall pop into my mind.
Hot, passionate sex with water flowing behind us. The look on Lock’s face as he pounded me relentlessly.
No, no, no, no, no! Not right now!
“I—”
“And it wasn’t just once, Sammi. It’s all the fucking time. We’ve fucked on multiple occasions, and I’ve given you multiple orgasms each time.”
“Obviously, it’s not that memorable, because I don’t fucking remember any of it!”
Of course, I’m lying. The flashbacks have been coming fast and hard, much like the way we fucked last night. I can still feel the heat of his stiff, massive cock in me.
He doesn’t need to know that, though.
For a moment, I swear I see the hurt on his face. Lock is one to wear a mask; he doesn’t always let his true feelings shine through.
But just like that, his cool exterior is back in the blink of an eye. Must’ve been my imagination.
“It’s because you don’t want to remember, right? It’s so fucking easy to blame it on the tequila, but the fact is you don’t remember, because you don’t want to. God forbid you experience fun for once in your sober fucking life.”
“Fun? I have lots of fun, Lock. Without you. I don’t need you to have fun.”
“Really, fun with Egghead, perhaps?” He scoffs.
“His name is Eggbert. And yes, we have fun together. Why else would I marry him?”
“Because it’s the logical fucking thing to do, according to you. You’re so uptight in your day-to-day life that I’m surprised I could fit my cock up your ass. And I did do that by the way.” A knowing smirk spreads across his face.
“Wha—” I subconsciously rub my ass. Yeah, we might’ve done something like that. “What’s wrong with being logical?”
“Logic has a time and place, darl, but it’s not meant to rule your life. I highly doubt you have fun with that scrambled idiot. He’s a pompous ass, and you’re so much fucking better than he is.”
“You’re just jealous, because I’m here telling you that I don’t want you. I don’t bow to your feet like all the other women in your life.”
“No, I’m pissed because you won’t let yourself fucking be happy!” His normally bright green eyes are now dark with anger. “Is that any way to fucking live? At least when you’re with me and a bottle of tequila, you break out of that stick and have fun! And for what it’s worth, you have bowed down to me… I’ve had you on your knees sucking my fucking cock!”
“That’s not—”
“And you fucking loved it. You loved sucking every last drop of cum down that sexy ass throat of yours like a cup of Maxwell House’s finest. Do you need receipts? Because I’ve got them darlin’!”
“Lock—”
“The first time was three years ago, right here in Bangkok…”
“Stop!” I don’t want to hear this right now. “Just stop it, already. There’s no point to this.”
I’ve been having fucking flashbacks of hot sex with Lock for hours. The floodgates are threatening to open just thinking about it.
But I can’t let this get under my skin. After all, I am getting married.
“Why should I? You may not remember, but I do. And to be honest, I’m getting pretty sick and fucking tired of you forgetting. This has been our deal for years, Sammi. Years.” He takes a step closer to me, but I take one back.
“We’ve done it in an alley, in an aquarium, in the water…”
“Al-right! What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. I want you to stop fucking denying the time we’ve spent together. I want you to realize that you can let yourself be free to live your life without having to be off your face.”
His eyes are searching mine, and I can tell he’s serious. Honestly, though, I don’t want to deal with this shit right now.
“I want you to stop being afraid and start embracing who you really are.”
“I’m not afraid of who I am, Lock. Never have been, never will be. Who I am is Sammi Brighton, and I am marrying Eggbert. You may not like it, but it’s not your decision to make.”
It’s only one in the afternoon, and this entire day has gone to the fucking dogs.
It’s hot, I’m sticky and pissed, and I just want to get away from this.
From Bangkok.
From Lock.
Because right now, my mind isn’t thinking straight, and I have no idea what the logical next step is here.
Chapter 24
Lock
2:20 PM SATURDAY
She just stares at me, a look of confusion on her gorgeous face. I know I’ve said too much at once. I know she’s probably overwhelmed.
I mean, hell, she is supposed to be getting married today.
I can’t find it in me to regret a fucking word, though.
An enormous weight has been lifted since the moment I called her out. I’ve been carrying this shit around for way too long.
Really, I only wish I had said it sooner. Maybe if I had spoken up three years ago, we never would have gotten into this mess.
If I’d shown her the truth, we might be somewhere else entirely. Instead, I kept my fucking mouth shut. I let her forget.
I let her get engaged to fucking Eggbert.
Well, fuck Eggbert and fuck forgetting. I didn’t forget. I just walked around, head swarming with memories of her.
The way she tastes, the way she laughs when she’s actually happy, and the way she looks when she’s coming on my cock.
Yeah, I sure as fuck won’t ever forget that.
This time, I’m not going to let her forget, either. I move before she has time to think.
That’s the real problem here: Sammi’s always fucking thinking. Always calculating and rationalizing.
Enough.
Enough logic. Enough practicality.
My hands lock around her waist, pulling her to me in a rush. My mouth crashes against hers before she has time to speak.
I put everything into this kiss.
All my frustration, my pent-up feelings…all the love I feel for this ridiculous fucking woman. I kiss her like I’ve lost my damn mind.
Probably because I have.
But whose fault is that?
Her body tenses the moment my lips find hers, every inch of her tightening in surprise. I swear to God I can feel her fucking mind working.
I just kiss her harder, doing everything in my power to drive the damn thoughts away. I want her here, with me, nowhere else.
Let’s face it. Calm, rational Sammi has never gone for what she really wants. It’s a different girl entirely that I’m trying to lure out now.
I almost can’t believe it when I feel her relax. When her lips begin to move against mine, I finally have the confidence to loosen my grip around her and just coexist, letting our mouths dance together.
Fucking Sammi Brighton is kissing me back, and she’s not even drunk.
I’ve never felt this from her sober. I’ve never so much as tasted her tongue without the lingering flavor of tequila.
There’s not a trace of it now, though.
I’ve gotta say, even without the heavy tang of liquor, Sammi tastes fucking amazing. I pull her harder against me, desperately trying to eliminate any space.
Between us, I can feel my cock begin to throb. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I want her now more than ever.
I fucking need her.
I release my frantic grip from her waist, letting my hands slide upward. My fingers glide over her ribs, settling on her unbelievable tits.
The way she feels makes me crazy.
Always has.
Despite the fact that she’s kissing me back, I’m still surprised when her hands begin to move as well.
They find my hips, fingers digging into my skin.
I most definitely should have spoken up thr
ee years ago.
I can’t actually believe how easy it was to break through to her, and I’m kicking myself for not trying sooner.
Her hands slide down, over my belt, trailing across my pants, into my pocket.
My fingers are in her hair, my tongue is in her mouth as her hand glides against my cock, mere fabric separating us.
I push against her, wanting her to feel every inch of my throbbing cock. Needing her to feel what she does to me.
She breaks contact so quickly, I almost continue kissing thin air.
That’s all I fucking need.
“Sammi,” I choke out, “look, darl—”
She raises her hand, cutting me off mid-sentence.
There’s a look on her face that I haven’t seen before. Some kind of elaborate play of mixed emotions. I have no idea what to make of it.
Maybe it’s because all the blood is still rushing to my cock, or maybe I really am just that enamored with her…but it takes me a ridiculously long time to figure it out.
As it is, it’s only the sound of jangling coming from her hand that clues me in.
I look down at myself, seeing the fabric of my now inside-out pocket.
It stands erect, a sad imitation of my throbbing dick.
It’s like the world’s worst magic trick.
That little sneak.
So the only reason she kissed me back was to get into my pocket.
The pocket where I keep my keys, of course.
“Sammi…”
“Nope!” she says, turning towards my bike.
She swings her leg over, hands gripping the handles like a pro.
I could probably stop her, but I’m a little distracted by how sexy she looks straddling my ride.
Reminds me of all the times she’s straddled—
The engine roars to life, cutting my thoughts short.
“FUCK! Sammi, wait!”
She doesn’t even turn to look. She just pulls on the throttle and speeds away. Leaving me alone once again.
Surprise, surprise.
I growl in frustration.
I kick up some dust.
Really, there’s not much else I can do.
I’m now standing on the streets of Bangkok, minus Sammi and a bike.
The Marriage Mistake Page 13