Come to Me Recklessly

by A. L. Jackson

  She looked so free.

  Happy.

  It made me happy, too.

  I reached out and traced my fingertips along the rim of that mouth, the red candied bow that had been my torment for so many years. My voice dropped low. “You make me insane, Samantha.”

  Self-conscious laughter quietly rolled from her, and she shook her head. “That’s a good thing… because I’m not feeling so sane myself.” The words softened. “I still can’t believe I’m here. It feels like some kind of a dream. One I’m terrified I’m going to wake up from.”

  I ran my hands up and down the outsides of her thighs, enjoying the feel of the creamy skin way too much. I leaned in close to her ear. “You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

  Contentment bled through a throaty sigh, and a smile fluttered across her face.

  I teased a kiss across her lips.

  That mouth.

  This girl.

  So sweet.

  A tiny moan slipped up her throat, and she threaded delicate fingers in my hair.

  And she kissed me like I wanted to be kissed.

  She kissed me like she was free.

  On a growl, I dragged her closer and pressed her tight up against me. Need vibrated through my entire body, passing through to her, passing through to me. Every emotion one. Me and this girl the same.

  Belonging on another level.

  Because she’d always belonged to me.

  My hands wandered her legs, all the way back to where her knees were locked tight to my hips, slipping back up to her waist. Samantha kept sighing as our tongues dipped and played.

  God, it felt so good.

  My fingers flitted around the hem of her shirt, before I bunched it enough to run the tip of my finger under the leg of that black lace.

  A shiver rolled through her.

  “Think we need to get rid of these.” I gave them a little tug.

  Samantha giggled, shy and seductive, and I felt that sound way down deep in my chest. “You do, huh?”

  “Mm-hmm. I think we really, really do.” I stepped back far enough to begin to peel them down her legs.

  She shivered more.

  “Gorgeous,” I hissed. Every curve. Every inch.

  I glanced up at Samantha’s face. Eager blue eyes watched me with all that modesty. With all that goodness. But completely open, all the same. She helped me by twisting her feet out of her panties.

  Desire fell like a storm, a billow of love and lust and devotion building strong.

  Still, there was something about this moment that felt light.

  Like all that weight I’d been carrying around for years had been lifted from my back.

  It was so different from what we’d experienced last night. Last night we’d finally hit the edge. There’d been no more room for denying what we meant to each other. Resisting it was no longer possible.

  Last night I’d given myself to Samantha in a way I’d never given myself to anyone else before. I’d fucking loved her. Cherished her. And all the vile numbness I’d drowned in for years had evaporated. Erased with her touch. For the first time in seven years I’d allowed myself to feel everything.

  Every emotion. Every ounce of pain that lingered in her tentative touch. Every fragment of remorse.

  Last night was a commitment. A promise.

  But this morning? This was freedom. About the fact that we just got to belong.

  I dropped the little scrap of lace to my kitchen floor, and as much as I liked my shirt on her, it had to go. I lifted it over her head, and her hair fell back down around her shoulders and over the swell of her breasts. Perfect tits peeked through the flowing strands, nipples puckered and hard. Samantha moved to rest back on her hands, and I grabbed her by the knees.

  And there she was, all spread out on my kitchen counter.

  Shit. I raked a hand over my face, about two seconds from coming unglued.

  “You’re the best damned thing I’ve ever seen.”

  A flush covered her heated body, her words thick. “You’re the only one I ever wanted to see me this way.”

  She shifted forward and hooked her index fingers in the band of my underwear. She gazed up at me as she began to slowly work them down. “But I want to see you more.”

  My cock was fucking straining, and my entire body clenched when she groaned, looking down when she freed me. It was a needy sound that came from deep in her throat.

  She pushed my underwear farther down my legs and I kicked them aside.

  She was shaking when she reached out and trailed her fingertip around the defined ridge of my aching head, everything tentative and unsure when she slipped her hand around and gripped me soft, then squeezed me tight.

  My stomach jerked and I rocked into her hand. “Baby… fuck… that feels good.”

  She looked up at me, her blue eyes all unsure and perfect as she began to stroke me. Without breaking her gaze, I riffled through the top drawer next to her to find the stash I kept there. I tossed it to the counter beside her.

  With a little quirk of her brow, she frowned, fighting with the overt want seeping from her pores and all that sweetness she kept locked up inside. “You keep condoms in the kitchen?”

  So maybe our worlds had traveled in different directions, far and fast, and I knew she’d never come close to understanding how dark mine had gone. The shit I’d done. Guess it was wrong I found some depraved satisfaction in it. Didn’t ever want her to know how ugly my world had got.

  Still, we’d ended up right back in the exact same place. Samantha shining all that light on me. Washing me in good. While I led her out to the shoreline. Coaxing her to dip her toes in a little of my world.

  “What else is it good for?” I murmured. I dipped down to take one of those pert nipples in my mouth, rolling it with my tongue.

  Yeah, that was sweet, too.

  She groaned and arched, drove her fingers in my hair. Her voice was shaky. “Um… I don’t know. Cooking. Eating.”

  “That could be arranged,” I murmured as I traveled along her belly, kissing her, making her jump and squirm as she jerked and pulled at my hair. Grabbing her by both knees, I spread her wide.

  I just needed to taste.

  I swept my tongue through the bare, heated flesh. She was so fucking wet and tasted so fucking good. Better than I even remembered, that one memory I’d been desperate to ingrain in my mind not coming close to doing this girl justice. I sucked on one lip, probably too hard. I knew I’d mark her, and a sick, twisted part of me wanted it all the same. I turned to the other and repeated the action.

  Samantha gasped and writhed. “Christopher… wha…”

  She fell silent when I changed course, focusing all my attention on her clit, and any objections turned into all these mewls and moans, little yeses and a multitude of pleas.

  I kissed her senseless, lapping then sucking that little bud, nipping at it with my teeth, sucking some more.

  “Christopher.” She fisted my hair, and I pressed two fingers inside her warmth, added another as I pumped them in and out of her body.

  Her entire being shuddered as she came against my mouth. I lifted up, slowing my fingers as I watched her ride out her orgasm.

  It was single-handedly the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  She was still panting and trying to catch her breath when I tore open the condom. I kept watching her as I began to roll it on my cock that was raging, this violent need to get lost inside her almost overwhelming.

  “I love you, Samantha,” I said, and all that light from earlier no longer seemed to apply, because I was feeling frantic. My hands shook when I palmed her thighs, digging in to drag her closer to the edge.

  I positioned myself at her center. “Already dying to be inside you again,” I mumbled, trying to get a handle on the way she made me feel.

  Sucking in a breath, I slipped my throbbing head an inch into that needy warmth. I floundered around inside myself, looking for some restraint, not able to fathom how
one girl could control me this way.

  I pushed a little deeper, and her tight, tight walls gripped my cock. I drew a sharp shot of air into my lungs.

  Blunt fingernails dug into my shoulders, scratching, digging. Samantha seemed to be fumbling for the same. “Oh my God… Christopher… that feels so good.”

  “Supposed to feel good, baby.” It was a ragged grunt, my body fucking shaking as I filled her whole.

  She was still clutching me. “Let’s just say I finally get what all the fuss is about.”

  My gut clenched, and I bit back the urge to fuck her wild, not for a second able to tolerate the idea of this girl being in someone else’s hands. Instead I pulled all the way out and eased back in to the hilt.

  “Christopher… please.”

  I pulled out, rocked into her again. “Yeah?” I asked, almost taunting, needing more.

  “Yeah… yes… you.” It was a jumble of words, all of them for me, this girl mine.

  My hips rocked out and this time I slammed back into her.

  The force pushed her back toward the counter, and she cried out, then she met me, pushing back. Our bodies colliding. Heaving. This surging mess of limbs and bodies.

  She was panting, struggling.

  Struggling just as much as me.

  Her gaze latched onto mine, that storm of emotions that sucked me right under.

  Pulling me deep.

  Deeper.

  Until I was sure I would drown.

  I’d thought this would be playful. But I should’ve known better. Should’ve known the way this girl affected me.

  We were nothing but liquid steel, melding, blending, one, when Samantha cried out again. She shattered all around me, her trembling body held firm in my arms. She dragged me right with her. The back of my thighs tightened. Pleasure ripped through every one of my nerves.

  I shouted her name as I came. All this bliss pouring free.

  I gasped for air, drawing it into my vacant lungs. Samantha had her face buried in my chest, doing the same, her fingers still planted deep in my shoulders.

  My fingers rushed through her hair, and I kissed her temple, my exhale heavy and relieved as I whispered at her skin, “Samantha… my sweet, good girl.”

  She giggled a little, though it was all breathy, and she pulled back to look at my face. She scratched her fingertips along my stubble. “I don’t think I qualify anymore.”

  Soft, incredulous laughter floated from me, and my words got all serious when I cupped the side of her face. “You being a good girl has never been about sex, Samantha. It’s always been about who you are. What I’ve always loved most about you.”

  Her expression shifted and she nodded, and she pushed up to press a lingering kiss to my mouth.

  Yeah, I could get used to this.

  My thumb grazed her cheek. “So what do you want to do today?”

  Pretty sure I wasn’t ever going to let her out of my sight again.

  Gentle fingertips trailed down my neck, tracing across my chest. Unsure eyes peeked up at me. “I’m going to go and visit Stewart like I do every Sunday. Then I’m going to go back to my place —”

  It was uncontrollable.

  The rage that built up, bursting at my ribs, bristling across my skin.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I clutched her sides, refusing to let go.

  She touched my cheek. “Hey… look at me.”

  Reluctantly, I met her gaze.

  “I’m going back to my house so I can end things with Ben. He’ll be home this afternoon and I’m going to lay it all out. After that? It depends on you, Christopher. I’m leaving him one way or another. What I told you last night? I meant it. It’s always been you.”

  I released an apologetic breath, guilt shaking my head. “I’m sorry, baby. I just… Fuck,” I swore, driving a hand through my hair, trying to keep all these turbulent emotions in check. “Thinking about you and him makes me fucking crazy. I can’t even stand the idea of you being around him. Not ever again.”

  Understanding softened her expression, but there was something resolute in it, too. She brushed her fingers through the flop of hair on my forehead, meeting my eye. “I was with him for seven years, Christopher, and he helped me through the worst time in my life.”

  Remorse fisted my heart, and I struggled to get her closer. God, I’d give up anything to take it back, that night on her floor, that mistake that had haunted me for seven fucking years. To take back all the pain I’d caused her. To stop the progression of shit it’d left in its wake.

  I didn’t even know how to be angry with Samantha for cutting me loose anymore. It still hurt, but I knew I’d been the catalyst. The one who’d set everything in motion.

  “At least I owe him an explanation. An apology. All these months…” Pained, she swallowed and dropped her gaze to the floor, before she looked back at me. “No matter how much I tried to deny it at the time, somewhere inside me, I wanted it to lead to this. Every time I saw you, Christopher, I ached, and every time you left I missed you a little more. All of that only confirmed how much I still loved you… how much I wanted you. I mean, God, I packed a bag last night hoping I’d be waking up here after I sent a text to my boyfriend, telling him I’d be at home reading a book. What kind of person does that?” Her expression was pleading. “No matter what you think of him, I am still the one who betrayed him. And I never wanted to be responsible for something like that because I know how much betrayal hurts.”

  I started to protest, but she pressed her fingers against my mouth. “But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret us. I refuse to. But that doesn’t mean I’m not guilty or that I didn’t go about it all wrong. Because of it, I have to hurt him.”

  Resigned, I nodded against her touch. “I get it. I do. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. You belong here. With me.”

  She lightened her voice, eyes shining. “Does that mean you want me to come back here after?”

  “Haven’t I already made that perfectly clear?” I rubbed up against her. “The only place I want you is right here… in my bed.”

  “That sounds tempting.” It was all tease, just as teasing as her fingers that started fluttering down my abs.

  “Not tempting. Mandatory.”

  She smiled a soft smile, and then she cringed and chewed at her lip. “I think maybe we should take some time to talk tonight?” Almost pleading, she tilted her head. “About what happened to us? You hurt me, Christopher, and I have to get it all out before we can really move on.”

  Fuck, I wanted to bury it all. To forget it. But I knew she was right. And the truth was, she’d hurt me, too. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, but I promise you right now, Samantha, I’m not ever gonna hurt you again.”

  “I know,” she whispered, her palms flat on my sides, high up on my ribs. I could feel the force of my heart beating against them.

  I kissed the top of her head, bringing her back to hug her, changing the subject. “You excited to see Stewart?”

  I felt her smile against my skin. “I can’t wait. Even though it’s hard every time I see him. But he needs me, you know?”

  “Of course I know.” I pulled back and tucked a lock of her knotted-up hair behind her ear. “I’d like to see him sometime. You think he’d be okay with that?”

  This smile lit her face, the kind that punched me right in the center of my chest, the one that shouted out I was home.

  “I think he’d love that,” she said. Then a shadow blew in. “But you’re going to have to give me a little time… let this settle in with my family.”

  Resentment flared. Part of me hated Samantha’s parents. Hated what they’d done. They’d been guilty, too. “They’re not gonna be so thrilled about us, are they?”

  Dropping her gaze, she shook her head. “I don’t know. Probably not. But it doesn’t matter.” She gathered my hand between both of hers, kissed across my knuckles while she clutched it. “What matters is what we want.”

  Samantha squeaked when I swept her off t
he counter, one arm under her back and the other under her knees, bride-style.

  Yeah.

  I carried her toward my bedroom. “And the only thing I want is you.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Samantha

  At five minutes past noon, I pulled up to the curb in front of my parents’ quiet house and cut the engine. I sat in silence, trying to gather my wits, which I was pretty sure I’d lost somewhere around six o’clock last night. Right where I’d left them at Christopher’s feet.

  No doubt, I’d been grinning like a fool the entire drive over, all this happiness bubbling up and over.

  I flipped down the sunshade to peek at myself in the mirror. Bright, wide eyes stared back at me, brimming with excitement and an overwhelming joy there was no chance of bottling up, my cheeks rosy and flushed. I rummaged through my purse in the passenger seat and pulled out my shiny clear gloss and lathered it across my lips that were all puffy and swollen and just about as sore as I was between my thighs.

  God, how obvious was I? I was pretty sure the second I walked through the door my mom would see straight through the casual facade I was trying to front.

  Right to the expression hidden underneath.

  You know the one.

  The one that screamed, Your daughter’s just been thoroughly sexed up by the baddest boy you never wanted to meet. And oh, by the way, she’s madly in love with him, too. And yep, you guessed it, she’s just about to throw away that seven-year relationship you were all too keen to tie her to.

  Yeah, that one.

  Thank God it’d be just her and Stewart. Dad would still be over at the church, chatting and mingling with his congregation after Sunday services.

  Truth was, I really didn’t want to have to hide it. I wanted to shout it. But I wasn’t about to let any of them in on this until I’d ended things with Ben. Not until I could bring Christopher here, stand at his side, and proclaim it all.

  Would they be angry and disappointed?

  Definitely.

  Would they try to talk me out of my ignorance?

  No doubt.

  But it made no difference at all.