Samara’s devotion and love for her family was just another example of their extreme differences.
Samara eyed the man beside her. He seemed tense. Much more than usual. The past few days had settled into a surreal but interesting routine. She learned that Noah slept little and talked less, while on assignment.
Each morning she woke to find him hunched over his computer. She knew he wasn’t only working on this case, but monitoring various other LCR activities. After breakfast, they reviewed the emails, responding to the ones they considered possibilities. During those times, Samara would sit in awe at how Noah determined those that were real people and those that were potentially the kidnappers’ bait. She soon discovered that Noah’s mind was as devious, possibly more so, than the creep they were targeting. Thank God, he was one of the good guys.
When she had decided this, she couldn’t say. But seeing his dedication and determination to save these children inspired her. It also had another unfortunate effect. She had become even more attracted to him. Not that she would do anything about it.
After answering their emails, Noah would change into running clothes and disappear for hours. When he returned, his muscular body would be sleek with perspiration. The first time she’d seen him like that she’d actually had to excuse herself. Never had she looked at a man’s body and literally wanted to jump his bones, sweat and all.
The self-defense lessons continued, but they avoided as much body contact as possible. Extremely hard to do, but neither of them wanted to tempt fate. Whenever she saw Noah’s obvious arousal or the hot, sensual expression on his face, she pretended it didn’t exist. And he did the same when her nipples peaked or her breathing turned to excited pants. So far, it had worked. Admittedly her dreams were much hotter than ever before, but at least dreams didn’t leave a hole in your heart.
“Mara, you bored?”
Jerking, she almost spilled the soda she held in her hand. “What?”
“You’ve been staring out the window for half an hour. You didn’t even read the last five responses I sent.”
“Sorry, just a little stir-crazy.”
“Why don’t you go out for a while? I can finish up here.”
Now was the time to tell him. Silly, but she dreaded it. “Well, I am actually going out this evening with a friend.”
Dark brows loomed over his eyes. “I thought you told everyone you were visiting your family.”
“I did, but I forgot about a date I made a few weeks ago. Brad’s been out of town, on a camping trip, and I’ve not been able to reach him.”
“So he’s home now?”
“Yes.”
“Call him and cancel now.”
Huffing out a sigh, she got to her feet. “I’m not going to cancel this late. Besides, there’s no real reason for me not to go. We don’t usually get busy until after midnight anyway.”
“Is this guy something to you?”
She shrugged, not caring to explain that she’d been somewhat attracted to him, but compared to Noah, Brad was nothing more than just a simple, nice guy. “I’ve been out with him a couple of times. Rachel set us up.” She shrugged again, feeling defensive for some reason. “He’s a nice guy and I enjoy his company.”
“Will you bring him back to your apartment?”
She wouldn’t, but she didn’t like him questioning her like this. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Noah slammed the top of the computer shut and got up. “Hell, Samara, if I’d known you were involved with someone, I never would’ve asked you to help.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t need the distraction. Call him and cancel.”
Hands on her hips, Samara forgot all about any tender feelings she’d been having for him. “I most certainly will not. You’re not my employer, my boyfriend, or my father. I don’t owe you a damn thing and I’ll not have you tell me what I can and can’t do.”
“Fine. Go fuck him for all I care.”
Speechless, she watched as Noah grabbed his car keys and stalked out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Arrogant asshole.” Grabbing a pillow from the sofa, she hurled it at the door.
What right did he have to say that to her? She’d done nothing for the last few days but work with him and this was the thanks she got?
She huffed and puffed through her shower, alternately cursing Noah for being such a jerk and herself for allowing him to get away with it. Wrapping a towel around her soaking hair, she glared at the woman in the mirror. One of Rachel’s sayings came to mind. “Mad as a wet hen.” That’s exactly what she looked like.
Eyes closed, she took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. After several breaths, calmness washed over her. Allowing herself to get angry over Noah’s words and actions gave him a power over her she couldn’t allow. After this was over, he would be gone and the very real possibility existed that she would never see him again. Having any emotions regarding this man, even anger, was pointless.
With that thought, Samara was able to get ready in her usual quick and efficient manner. Dressing up was actually a treat for her. In her job it was usually business casual. At home she went for comfort. Tonight she wanted to look especially nice. She told herself it had nothing to do with the infuriating man she was briefly sharing her home with. Brad was a nice guy … she wanted to look pretty for him.
Standing in front of her full-length mirror, Samara observed the way the turquoise wraparound dress enhanced her eyes and how the silky material hugged her curves in a silken embrace. Her eyes, almost the same color as the dress, sparkled. She’d emphasized them further with blue liner underneath and a hint of blue on her lids. Her long hair, which she usually either allowed to dry naturally or blew-dry and pulled up in a ponytail, she took extra pains with tonight. Naturally curly hair could be a curse when one was in a hurry or had no talent for hair design. Tonight she dried and then straightened it. The results were a long, silken fall of ink-black hair flowing down her back.
With a bite of her lip and a wince of an eye, she stepped into the four-inch stilettos. She might have only worn them once, but she still remembered the pinching pain. Glancing at her legs in the mirror, she decided the pain was well worth it. Her legs looked long, toned, and fabulous.
“Take that, Noah McCall.”
Refusing to ask herself why those words sprang from her mouth, Samara grabbed her purse and keys just as her doorbell rang. She opened the door, her smile of welcome firmly in place for the tall blond man standing at the door. His eyes gleaming with male appreciation, Brad Fleming smiled down at her. Easy on the eye, successful, pleasant … what more could a woman want?
Closing the door behind her, Samara chatted easily with Brad as they headed toward his car, determined to put the arrogant, mysterious, and irritating as hell Noah McCall completely out of her mind.
six
Hours later, Noah let himself back into Samara’s apartment, feeling like a first-class prick. So she had a date. Big damn deal. She had every right to a social life. She’d done nothing for almost two weeks except help him. And how had he repaid her? By belittling and insulting her.
Slumping down onto the sofa, he took a deep breath, inhaling the light fragrance Samara always wore. He hardened with an almost unbearable erection … his normal response to anything to do with Samara.
He needed to get laid, that was all. It had been almost six months since he’d been with a woman. Ever since he’d heard about Bennett’s reemergence, his mind had been totally focused on finding a way at him. Being around a beautiful woman like Samara day in and day out had just made his need greater. It was nothing more than that.
When this was over, he’d go back home and keep Celeste in bed for days. She always enjoyed his gluttony after a long assignment. Abstaining from sex while on assignment was something he’d trained himself to do years ago. And since Samara wasn’t a real operative, his mind refused to see her as such. That was the reason he was so tempte
d.
His mind resolute, his determination to resist temptation back in place, Noah stood and headed to his computer. It was only a little after ten. Samara might be out for a few more hours, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do a little trolling on his own. He was almost positive they’d found their guy … Brian Sanders, who’d been one of the first to respond.
After that first message, Noah had sent a couple of his people to the real Brian’s home to talk to him and his parents. Brian had denied chatting online. Noah believed him. This had to be the bastard. It was too much of a coincidence not to be, and he wasn’t a big believer in coincidences.
So far, Brian’s messages had contained nothing more than some heavy flirting and mild sexual innuendos. Though he still didn’t want to come on too strong and have the creep run, he was getting tired of this silly crap they’d been playing.
Noah typed in the email address for BS626 and wrote:
Hey Brian, I’m so pissed off I can’t see straight. My mom is making me go stay with my grandmother in Arizona while she goes on a cruise. Can you believe how selfish she is? Taking me away from school and all of my friends for two whole weeks? I won’t even be able to email you unless I go to the library. Gram doesn’t even have a computer.
I’ll miss you but hopefully when I get back, we can start chatting again. I’ll be leaving in a few days. Hope to talk to you before I go.
Noah signed off. Now it was up to Brian to take the bait.
A key turned in the door and Noah looked up as Samara entered the apartment. His breath caught. She wore the dress she’d worn to Jordan and Eden’s wedding. The one he fantasized about taking off every time he’d allowed himself to think about her. Blue silk covered her body with the kind of modesty that entices a man to stare hard to determine the secrets beneath. The dress enhanced every curve, hugged tight to every feminine detail.
All good intentions disintegrated. His cold, logical explanations for wanting this woman crumbled. Self-preservation evaporated. Self-denial took a backseat to raging desire. Without conscious thought, Noah found himself standing in front of her. Glaring down at her, he growled between clenched jaws, “No promises. No future. Just this. Here. Tonight. Your choice.” A part of him desperately hoped she’d slap his face and tell him to go to hell. Another part was just as desperate for her to agree to the incredibly unromantic proposal he’d just uttered.
Her eyes, wide and filled with shock, locked with his. She stared hard, as if reading his soul.
Breath held in check, Noah waited for an answer. Desire surged and pulsed through him, strong, potent, and consuming. His breath caught in his chest when a slim, delicate hand touched his arm, giving him the answer he sought.
Taking the hand, he kissed it softly and pulled her to the bedroom.
Samara couldn’t believe she was going to be so stupid. Fleeting images of every bad decision she’d ever made flashed through her mind. None of them compared to what she’d just agreed to.
So what if her date with Brad had been unexciting and dull. So what if she’d been unable to take her mind off Noah and his anger at her for not canceling her date. So what if she wanted him like nothing she’d ever wanted in her entire life. Did that mean she had to be so stupid? The door closed behind them.
Evidently so.
“Noah, I …”
A hand held both her wrists behind her back as his big body pressed her against the door. “Shh.” Moving his mouth softly, slowly, he traced her entire face with his lips. “Every night, I dream about this body. And every morning, I wake up hard and aching for you.”
“Then why haven’t …?”
“Because this can’t be. … We can’t be.” He drew away from her and looked down. Dark, solemn eyes held secrets beyond her imagination and a desire beyond her comprehension. “You know that, right?”
Her mouth moved up in a wry smile. “Yeah … I think you’ve mentioned it a time or two.”
“And?”
Her decision had already been made. Leaning forward, she whispered, “Kiss me. Please.” She’d been reduced to begging and didn’t care in the least.
“Mara.” He said her name as if it were a reverent prayer, his mouth moving against hers as soft as a whisper. A ragged groan escaped, and Noah swallowed it as his mouth closed over hers.
Dear God, she’d forgotten how he kissed. Her arms still trapped behind her, Samara pressed up toward him and Noah released her hands, only to pull her harder against him.
As his mouth devoured hers, his hands swept down her body and her dress dropped to the floor. Pulling away slowly, he looked down at her.
Samara knew she was lacking in the chest department. Had once even considered surgery, but could never make herself go through with it. The way Noah stared at her breasts, she got the distinct impression size definitely didn’t matter to him.
Pulling farther away from her, he flipped the front clasp of her bra and slipped it off. A dark, calloused hand moved over one breast, then the other. Her breath caught on a gasp of delight as her nipples peaked in anticipation.
“Are your breasts sensitive?”
“Yes.”
His hands cupped both breasts, then he ran his thumbs over the distended nipples. Leaning back against the door, Samara closed her eyes as desire thrummed and whipped through her like a live electrical wire. She cried out in delight when he pinched both nipples with just the right amount of pressure.
He lowered his head and licked each nipple, swirling his tongue around them till they hardened into aching peaks. Her body trembled with need and an arousal so vicious and intense, she could barely make a coherent sound. His mouth … she needed his mouth on them, not just his tongue. “All … Noah … please …”
Lifting his head, hot breath floated across her chest. “What, baby?”
“More … I need more.”
Cupping her butt with his hands, he bent his head and set his mouth to her breast. Taking almost the entire mound in his mouth, he sucked hard, then harder. Shock waves of lightning blasting through her, Samara placed the palm of her hand against the door to hold herself up and held Noah’s head against her with the other. Tiny little sobs and moans left her mouth as arousal, dark and throbbing, pulled at her.
Lifting his head, Noah stared down, those glittering black eyes almost scaring her. Shuddering, heavy pants escaped her lips. She refused to ask herself why he looked more angry than aroused. He’d said one night, this one time. She fully intended to take advantage of this opportunity.
Reaching for his shirt, she unbuttoned the top button. His hands covered hers. … They worked together to undress him. With every piece of clothing he dropped, Samara’s desire grew. She’d seen him in shorts and a T-shirt, but seeing him like this … totally, wholly masculine. Broad shoulders, muscular, defined arms, flat washboard stomach. Her fingers ached to trace the lines of light scarring on his chest and abdomen. Scars she’d noticed before but had never been able to ask about. Those questions rose to mind again … things she desperately wanted to know, but might never be able to ask. Anything beyond the physical release he sought would be met with the blank stare he used so well when she asked something he didn’t want to answer.
Her thoughts scattered as a calloused hand parted her thighs and caressed boldly as it moved up toward the hot throb beating inside her … dying for his touch. A whimper of sound fell from her mouth as reason and thought dissolved. With gentle but purposeful intent, he fondled her curls … parted the folds, a finger pressed into her. Gasping cries caught in her throat as she pushed her body toward his hand.
“Mara.” Her name was a groan of need. Pulling her hard against him, he slammed his mouth on hers and devoured.
Overwhelming need consumed her as she gave herself up to the glory of his mouth and arms. His tongue plunged, retreated, and plunged again, over and over, building heat, creating tension and even more need. Samara was to the point of trying to climb his body when he stopped, scooped her up, and carried her to
the bed. The memory of the last time he did this, but left her lying on the bed, went through her. She soon learned he had no intention of leaving. He placed her on the bed, stripped off her panties, and spread her legs wide.
“Noah!”
Triumphant, glittering eyes gleamed up at her. “Everything, Mara. I want it all.” Opening the folds of her sex, he bent his head and licked her as if she were a melting ice-cream cone.
Bucking her hips toward him, she groaned at the thrust and retreat of his tongue, first on her clit, then another lick over her entire sex … then a full thrust into her vagina. Release blasted through her with volcanic intensity. … Bucking up against him, riding his tongue, she screamed his name.
Before she could recover, Noah lifted himself away from her, slid a condom up his hard length, and plunged. Another scream … this time for a completely different reason. “Noah … wait …”
His penis throbbing, insistent inside her, he held still as his hot mouth, moving with delicate precision over her face and neck, whispered, “Shh. Wait a minute, sweetheart. It’ll get easier.” The soft, almost tortured words muttered against her neck speared straight to her sex, causing her to throb and spasm, allowing him fully inside her. “Mara, you feel so damned good.”
The pain subsided as quickly as it came and with it came a realization of fullness she’d never experienced. Wrapping her legs around his hips, her arms around his shoulders, she enfolded him and gave him everything he asked for and more.
Noah rode her hard, knowing he was going too fast, giving her too much, too soon, and unable to stop himself. Control had been his life for so long and now that control was as close to being shattered as it’d ever been. His eyes locked with hers. They were glazed with passion and heat. … He pumped harder. She was going to come. … He could see it in her eyes, feel the tension in her body, winding tighter and tighter.
When she let out a little scream and he felt her pulsing around him, he forced that control, not wanting to give in too soon, not wanting to let go too quickly. God, she felt so good … so right. As her gasping sobs quieted down, Noah finally allowed himself the freedom of release. He plunged, retreated, plunged again. … Bright, colorful fluorescent lights burst behind his eyes, electricity and heat zipped up his spine as his body exploded.
RETURN TO ME Page 8