Saving Sam (The Wounded Warriors Book 1)
Page 3
“And then what happened, Sam?” Amy asked breathlessly, clawing her way back to awareness. “The next morning, when you woke up, hung over…”
It seemed her comment chilled his desire, as he hid his face against her chest. His hand, still resting against her mound, remained motionless. The devastating truth not only stifled their progress, but it effectively reduced their drive. The temporary cooling of their desires allowed them to pursue the conversation they so desperately needed to have. A conversation that was probably meant for another time and place, but was so over-due, it had become unavoidable.
“I was still lying beside you and you pretended not to remember how I had gotten there,” Amy reminded him. “There was blood on your sheets, and you didn't remember?”
He gave her a brief, sheepish look, but it appeared desire was still controlling him. His voice caressed her with an intimacy beyond the touch of hands. “I remembered, Amy, but I didn't know what to do about it.”
Sam looked at her, his eyes pleading with her, asking for so much more than just her understanding. He moved his hand from between her legs and began to run his fingers up and down the length of her arm. The movement tickled with sensations that touched Amy in places too deep for such an innocent caress. Again, she closed her eyes, but this time it was in an effort to contain her desires and not merely bask in his touch.
“I was leaving for the Air Force,” he explained. “It wouldn't have been fair… to have slept with you the right way, asked you to be my girlfriend… and then just left.” His fingers stroked her arm one last time. They trailed along until they reached her hand and he could lace his fingers through hers.
“I would have waited.” She squeezed his hand.
“I didn't want you to.”
The words stabbed like a knife in her belly. She bit her lip and forced painful words between her lips “I did anyway.”
“Why?”
She dropped his hand and cupped his face between her fingers. “Because there's never been anyone else, Sam. When you were a careless, lazy boy, I loved you. When you were an adorable, sloppy-haired mess of a teen, I loved you. When you were a selfish, thoughtless youth on the verge of manhood, I loved you.”
“And now?” His eyes pleaded, for what, she wasn't sure.
“Now I don't know you.” Amy sighed as she traced her finger over his eyebrows and added, “You're a hard-eyed soldier. You're gorgeous, I'll give you that - built, and beautiful, but different.”
“And?” Again, that pleading tone, but this time she knew what he wanted.
“And,” she complied, “I still love you.”
He pulled her close again. “Sweet Amy,” he rumbled, the evidence of his need straining against her leg, “say yes.”
The best she could offer was, “I won't say no.”
He lifted her easily, hardly needing to flex his muscles. She wrapped her legs around his waist, curling her arms around his neck, pressing her mouth down on his. Her living area was so little that he crossed it in two long-legged strides, to her bedroom door, and through, to the bed with its pink and blue flowered sheets, crumpled and unmade. It looked like someone had already made love on it.
“Sam?”
“Yes Amy?”
“Will you remember in the morning?”
“I'll remember,” he promised. “I remembered the last time too. I've never forgotten.”
His words thrilled her. And it's that hope that has kept me going all this time.
He laid her carefully on the bed, and climbed on top of her, sliding his arms underneath her. She remembered that other time. It had been fast, hot and wild. It had been the quenching of a primal thirst. This time, he was cherishing her, luxuriating in their closeness and taking his time. This time it wasn't about carnal cravings, but something deeper.
It felt wonderful and satisfying. It had felt amazing the other time too, and she couldn't deny it. There just couldn't be anything unpleasant about sleeping with Sam Wallace, except perhaps the aftermath. But she wasn't going to think about that. And once his hands slid under her dress, lifting it over her head, she didn't think about anything anymore. She simply gave herself over to her body and to his.
Sam's eyes glowed as he looked down at her. A corresponding glow seemed to ignite in her core. He kissed her throat and just like that, her shyness melted. It was hard to feel insecure when Sam was looking at her with such admiration and appreciation.
“Tell me what you don't want, Amy,” Sam urged.
She caressed the roughness of his cheek. “I don't want you to leave, ever. I don't want you to go away from me. I don't want you to forget me.”
“I won't leave. I won't go away. And I've never forgotten.” He punctuated each phrase with a touch of his lips to her face. “You were always with me, baby. Thoughts of you are what carried me through.”
“They did?” she whispered in awe.
Sam ignored her question and asked one of his own instead. “What do you want, Amy?”
Undone by his tenderness, she poured out her deepest desire. “I want you, Sam. You're all I've ever wanted.”
“I'm here. Are you brave enough to reach for me?” he asked.
“Will you be there for me to take hold of?” she countered.
“Try it.”
Her arms wrapped around the solid muscles of his shoulders and broad back. She smiled at the pleasure of feeling his powerful body between her legs and wrapped in her arms. She looked at him, happiness exuding from every fiber of her being.
“See,” he hummed. “I'm here. You have me.”
He kissed her passionately, pressing her against the mattress with his muscular weight. She thrilled at the way his body felt as it melded into hers. Then he nibbled gently along her jaw and tickled her exposed shoulder with his masterful lips. She gasped.
“Tell me how you want this,” he demanded as he arched his hips a bit, letting her feel his thickness against her mound.
“It doesn't matter, as long as you're in my arms.”
His expression turned wry. “I'm such a mess. It's going to take time for me to be right for you, baby. I'm not there yet, but… this time I'm asking, can you wait for me? I'll come right to you when I'm ready, I promise.”
“No, Sam. I won't wait for you.”
One eyebrow quirked as his body tensed. “No?”
“I'll wait with you,” she replied.
He grinned as his body relaxed once again.
Amy beamed at him in return and said, “Don't you think… while you process what you've gone through, it might help to have someone who loves you nearby?”
“Are you saying you love me?” he teased with a knowing smile.
“You've always known the answer to that,” she retorted. “And didn't I just say so?”
“I like to hear it,” he rumbled with a devilish grin, and then Sam's smile faded, revealing a hint of something dark and excruciating, which he quickly suppressed.
“What is it?” Amy demanded, worried.
“I'm… damaged,” Sam whispered. “You'll never understand, you can't relate at all and I can't explain things to you. I wish I could, but…”
“I know that,” she said quickly. “I can't offer empathy because I have no idea of the things that haunt you. I know you don't want sympathy either, but what about company?”
“Company?” he asked skeptically.
“Yes, just company,” she replied. “You know, hugs and kisses… and more when you need it, until you're ready to move forward.”
“And you would believe it?” he asked, seemingly unconvinced. “You would believe that I was really going to get there someday?”
He knows me too well. “It doesn't matter.”
“You sell yourself short, baby.” He said as he rolled over, pulling her along and easing her on top of him. He sat up, keeping her straddled over him as he hugged her tenderly. Then he looked pensive as he added, “Maybe helping you with your shyness and self-worth will help me.”
“What do you mean?”
He didn't answer, just opened her bra in one easy move and tossed it to the side of the bed. He cupped her breasts in his hands, giving her a seductive smile that drove all her concerns from her mind.
“I remember you liked this,” he told her and then he tugged her down so his mouth could take her erect nipple. He gently suckled it before catching it gingerly between his teeth, lashing it with his tongue. The stimulation sent heat shooting straight to her loins, flooding her with anticipation.
Nothing had changed. Within moments, Amy was panting pleasure. He moved to the other side, but his hand was still close enough to reach the first one easily, teasing the wet nub, pinching, and rolling it while he devoured the other side. His skills drew quick gasps of delight from her.
“Beautiful girl,” he murmured against her breast.
“More,” she mumbled in ecstasy.
He chuckled and eased Amy back down on the bed, resting himself on top of her. He gave her a taste of what was coming by moving his firm manhood across her panty covered mound. He was swollen from she took great enjoyment in the knowledge that she had caused his readiness. She moaned, lifting her pelvis to apply more pressure.
“I'm going to take you now, Amy,” he warned.
“Yes. I know.” She smiled without opening her eyes. “That's why we're here.”
“Let's see how interested you really are.” His fingers dipped down inside her underwear to feel her lush moisture. “How can someone so shy be so hot and willing?”
“It's a question of the partner. You're the only one who could get this response,” she confessed.
“Really?” he asked with an obvious smirk.
“Well,” she looked at him teasingly, “that's partly because you're the only one who's bothered to try.”
“So anyone who made the effort…?”
Her playfulness left her as she peered into his compelling, waiting eyes. “Wouldn't be you,” she said honestly.
“Kiss me.”
He moved back up over her body and pressed his mouth to hers. Her nipples rubbed against the coarseness of his shirt, reminding her that he was still fully dressed. She struggled to open the buttons of his blue plaid shirt, while straining to maintain maximum contact with his body.
“Oh, baby, let's move this forward,” he urged. “I've been dreaming of this moment for years.”
“Yes,” she agreed as he sat up and stripped off his shirt and pants. “Sam?”
He looked at her.
“You have to move so I can get my panties off.”
“I'll take care of that for you,” he told her with wink.
He slid the garment down, inching backwards as he went, slowly easing it over her long slender legs. At the foot of the bed, he stood, dropping his own briefs to the floor. He lifted one foot in his hand, kissing the instep and then setting it far to the side. The other foot got the same treatment, and she lay spread wide.
“I've never forgotten how good you taste,” he told her.
“Is this just going to be a replay of my deflowering?” she quipped, and a thrill shot through her belly.
“Maybe, but without the pain and blood. You objecting?”
“No. That was… really nice.”
“I wish I'd had less to drink,” he said, his eyes tightening at the corners. “More self-control might have made it easier on you.”
“Oh well. It's years done. Come on, Sam. Less talk.”
“Yes, I have a better idea about how to use my mouth.”
She knew what his idea was and she was right. Just like that long ago night, he went down on her, licking her slick folds apart, tasting each one, finally finding her erect clitoris, which he lashed tenderly with the tip of his tongue. Amy gasped uncontrollably, squealing with little shrieks of delight.
“Is that good?” he asked.
“Oh yeah!” she moaned.
“How about this?” he asked her, as two blunt, thick fingers pressed at her entrance.
“You didn't do that before,” she half-protested, lifting her head off the bed, unsure how to handle the ecstasy she'd already experienced, and not sure she could take much more.
“So? Do you want these fingers inside you baby?”
“Okay?” she said timidly, posing it more as a question than a statement.
He spread her. She was tight after so many celibate years and squeaked a little in discomfort, but he soothed her with long, long licks to her clitoris and the uncomfortable stretching eased into a scorching sensation. She dropped her head back onto the bed as his fingers pushed into her folds and searched for the special button that would cause a climax like no other.
“I want you to come,” he told her firmly, taking pleasure in the effects he had on her.
“I'm almost there!”
“Do it, Amy. Show me I'm touching you the right way.”
“Keep going,” she urged, panting and moaning.
He licked her, sliding his fingers through her tight wetness, and her hips began rocking. And then the heat grew to an explosion. As before, Amy forgot her shyness and screamed as pleasure rocked her. Grinning, Sam lifted his face from her, slid his fingers out, and lifted her hips. Her knees came up without prompting, creating a cradle for him to rest in.
“Now, Amy, I'm going to take you now.”
“Oh yes!”
As he did, Amy squawked. The sensations pushed her past her initial release and drove her to her next wave of orgasm.
Even with his preparations, she was still almost too tight. She sighed as his thickness opened her and he dipped into her well. It had hurt four years ago. Tonight, it felt wonderful and satisfying. Nothing in her memory or fantasy laden dreams compared to this reality. She was little and he was big, which would have created really intense sex by itself, but the skill of Sam's love-making lifted them to unimaginable heights. His dark eyes burning into hers, as their fingers interlaced together, and his body pressed full length against hers.
As if their potent union wasn't enough, Sam asked in a low, intense voice, “Do you love me now, Amy?”
“Yeeeeeees,” she wailed.
He thrust. “What about now?”
“Yes! Yes! I love you, Sam!” She cried out loudly into the night.
“And now?” he asked again, delivering another, harder deeper thrust.
“You know I love you.”
“Yes, I do. I know you love me, Amy.”
The fourth thrust was the decisive one, and her whole body arched under the wild, wet orgasm that streaked through her, soaking his sex, easing his path through her body, allowing him to take her harder, deeper, never slowing. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him, and he came, just like that, in the only safe place he had known in over a year.
Chapter 3
Dawn was breaking, and the early streaks of the morning sun were trying to push their way through the opening where her curtains didn't quite meet. Groggy, still tired, Amy didn't feel ready to wake up all the way. She remained languid from the night of passion she'd shared with Sam. The thought of Sam reminded Amy that he lay beside her in the bed, pulling a smile at the corners of her mouth.
It was Sunday, and no work needed to be done in the ranch office today. Amy felt content she could just snuggle Sam closer to her, with no other commitments on her time. It was rare to find Amy staying in bed late, but she had no reason to rush her day. Instead, she wanted to bask in the happy glow of the previous night.
Sam lay deeply asleep, curled up around her naked body, his head on her shoulder, his arm rested across her waist. Close. Intimate. Satisfying. Amy loved it.
Reminiscing, it was hard to believe her once spoiled, selfish Sam was suddenly so… hot, so loving. He hadn't said he loved her, but she could feel that he did, and he desired her love. His body spoke the truth even when he was unable to say the words. It was enough… for now.
Her bedroom door banged open abruptly.
“Amy where the hell is…” Dustin Wal
lace barged into the room and stopped dead.
We must be quite a sight, Amy thought. Though there was a sheet covering them, an awful lot of Sam's naked chest and her bare shoulders showed. There was no mystery what had happened here.
“Amy?”
She pressed her finger to her lips and mouthed the words Let him sleep. Dusty gave her an expectant look and beckoned. Amy tilted her head and looked at her boss questioningly. How exactly was she supposed to extract herself from the tangle of limbs and climb out of the bed without disturbing Sam?
Sam stirred as she wriggled away from him. His dark eyes opened without really focusing and she cooed at him in hopes of lulling him back to sleep.
“I'll be right back, baby. Go back to sleep,” she murmured as she kissed his lips softly.
Much to her relief, Sam's eyes closed and his breathing returned to the rhythmic pattern of slumber. One problem dealt with, she now had a new situation to address. There's no way in hell I'm getting out of the bed naked with my boss standing right there.
Dusty looked askance, impatient that he had to wait on her, but she met his stare with her own. She gestured towards the bed, trying to convey her situation and encourage Dustin to leave the room, or at least turn his back so she'd have some privacy. Realization finally dawned on him and he quickly retreated to the next room, closing the door behind him.
Amy shook her head in frustration as she made her way out from under the bed covers. The air-conditioned room felt chilly in contrast to the relaxing warmth of Sam's body against her bare skin. She shivered as she quickly pulled on her bathrobe and joined Dusty in the tiny living room where he was waiting. She was uncertain about what to expect and quite frankly, a little pissed off that Mr. Wallace had the audacity to barge into her bedroom the way he had.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded in a loud, blustering whisper.
“Isn't it obvious, Mr. Wallace?” Amy asked, blushing, but unapologetic.
“Why?”
Amy gulped, struggling to put into words the nebulous, powerful feelings swirling through her psyche. “You told me to help him, to find out what was wrong.”