Exposed to Passion (Five Senses series Book 3)

by Gemma Brocato

  Jesus! He had to quit thinking like that. At his strangled grunt, she cocked her head to the side, looking expectantly at him while wiping her elegant fingers on a napkin.

  He dragged his gaze away from her hands and cleared his throat. “Um…actually, I do have a second job. I work with my brother, Jack, in a construction and remodeling business. I have mad skills with a hammer.”

  “That’s handy. Would you mind looking over the new layout my grand—uh, Silas sent for the exhibit? When I look at it, I only see budget overruns.” She nudged a folder toward him with toes tipped in cobalt polish.

  Sam reached out to grab the file, brushing tips of his fingers across the top of her foot in the process. Her skin was cool, but heat shot through him like a flaming arrow. He sucked in a quick breath, sat up, and pulled the drawing onto his lap, masking the erection springing to life as best he could. Looking at the schematic was almost as good as running algebraic equations in his head as a distraction. He needed to get himself under control. Like cold-shower control. He cleared his throat again and focused on the lines of the drawing.

  After perusing it for a minute, he lifted his head and glanced around the museum, assessing the architectural details and building design. No small wonder Rikki saw dollar signs.

  “This is going to take a lot of material and time to accomplish. You’re looking at building ten…no, twelve panels to fulfill the requirements.” He jumped to his feet and walked around the perimeter of the room. “The good news… In its current configuration the space will make build-out easy. The bad news is the panels will have to be anchored into the wall. Once the exhibit is over, you’ll need to build them again for the next museum.”

  Rikki frowned. “I’d hoped to have a way to make them modular, so the panels could travel with me.”

  Sam squatted next to the red checked tablecloth, laying the drawing on top of Rikki’s legs. “How much flexibility do you have? With the layout, I mean.”

  “Well, it is Silas Sims, so I’m going to say, um…zero. But don’t let that stop you. What did you have in mind?”

  “Let me show you.” Reaching across her, he grabbed her notebook. Pulling back, the spicy scent he’d begun to identify as uniquely hers invaded his brain. He fumbled the book, barely keeping it from slipping through his fingers. He cleared his throat again, dropped to his rump, and started sketching out his idea. She peered over the top of the paper, an anticipatory smile on her lips as he worked. Damn, her perfume was distracting.

  “Building panels you can move with the exhibit will be pricey. The trade-off is that even though the initial cost will be higher, the total expense over the life of the exhibit will ultimately be more economical.” He shot a glance at her. “And, if we design them to be free-standing, you won’t incur additional repair costs when you remove the display at the end of the exhibit. The panels go with you.”

  “That makes sense,” she said as he continued to sketch. “Can you do that?”

  “I’ve seen this type of display unit used in retail shops. Those places change their floor configurations all the time. Jack, my brother, and I remodeled a T-shirt shop last year with pieces similar to this. If we equip the panel with feet, or better yet, locking casters, the configuration can be changed with little effort.” He tossed down the pen and turned the drawing for Rikki to inspect.

  “I like the idea,” she said, her attention shifting between the notebook and the museum walls.

  A grin spread over her lips, drawing his gaze like a hummingbird to nectar. Her pink tongue made an appearance at the corner of her mouth while she contemplated his suggestion. Sam choked back a groan. Did she know she was killing him?

  Rikki pulled Silas’s schematic toward her and scanned it, then shifted her focus toward Sam’s drawing. She trailed her gaze around the room. Letting the papers fall to her lap, she lowered her hand onto Sam’s thigh. Searing heat branded his leg and shot through his tortured body.

  “This is brilliant,” she said, her voice vibrating with excitement. Tension he doubted she was aware of, visibly ebbed away.

  He didn’t bother to suppress his groan this time, placing his palms on her cheeks, lifting her face. Sam refused to take time for a second thought and pressed his lips against hers. They parted in surprise and he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth like a Viking marauder, demanding surrender.

  Her soft surprised gasp ended when her teeth scraped lightly against his tongue. Running her fingers up his arm, she pulled him closer.

  * * * *

  Oh, my God. He was kissing her. She was kissing him back. Oh heavens, they were kissing.

  Rikki speared her fingers through his thick dark hair and Sam changed the angle of his head. His lips were urgent against hers, his tongue demanding. And she didn’t care. Flexing her fingers against his scalp, she snuggled closer, desperate to engage more than just his lips. She craved full body contact.

  He grasped her shoulders and pushed gently until they lay prone on the ground, his rock-solid chest covering hers. She couldn’t remember anything feeling better in her life. She arched her back, pushing her breasts more firmly against him. Moving his hand to the base of her skull, he cradled her head, keeping it from connecting with the concrete floor. His demanding lips turned insatiable. Aggressive, wet, suggestive. And Rikki couldn’t get enough. She returned his kiss with equal boldness, seeking, urging him on.

  Without breaking the seal between their lips, he shifted, rolling and pulling her along until she was on top of him. Half expecting his touch on her breasts, the way other men would, she was surprised when he grasped her hand, stroking his fingers between hers, pulling it to his chest.

  Taking full advantage of her perch atop his body, she gentled her approach, raining small, nipping kisses along his raspy cheeks and chin. She reveled in the scratch of his soft whiskers, then went back to his hungry lips. While she continued to worship his face with her mouth, he toyed with her fingers, wrapping his around them, stroking each digit from base to tip. Each caress sent new shivers through her body.

  Finally ending the kiss, she pulled back. Her breath froze in her lungs at the sight of the deep, sexy punctuation marks around his grin. His dimples alone could convince her to get naked immediately.

  Desire, potent and dominating, smoldered in his eyes, turning them from a lovely hazel to the color of a hot, hot, summer sky. While she lost herself in their depths, he thumbed her palm and pulled it toward his lips. Shifting her gaze, she shuddered as he sucked one fingertip into his mouth. Moist and sultry, his tongue melted her insides as it laved circles around the tip. His other hand roved down her back to cup her butt, squeezing and molding, redefining ecstasy.

  He never once reached for her breasts, normally one of the must do’s on most men’s come-on list. Considering the circumstances when they met, maybe Sam believed he’d already been there and done that. That he seemed to prefer her fingers and backside was different…and erotic. Her nipples ached with the need for his touch.

  He nipped the tip of her finger and she released her breath in a sharp rush.

  “Holy cow! Consider me seduced.” She didn’t recognize her own voice. Desire rasped through it, whispery and thick at the same time. Allowing her finger to slip from the steamy confines of his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her palm then released his hold. She curled her hand into a fist around the kiss he’d left, hoping to hold onto the heat and lingering sensation.

  Sam’s dimples faded and his look turned contrite. Here she was, beguiled and entranced, and his expression was shell-shocked and…chagrinned? What the hell?

  “Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. It was too fast, wasn’t it? I mean, we only just met and…but I thought, I mean, you seemed to want…and you didn’t say no. Christ, I’m so sorry.” Sam’s tone rattled with a misplaced apology. “I have no excuse. I’m a horndog.”

  He eased her away from his chest and helped her to sit up, then pushed himself uprig
ht and scooted a respectful distance from her.

  The apology in his tone and the loss of his body heat hit her like a cold slap. His words stung. He regretted kissing her. The tingly pulses zipping from her fingertip to her heart did nothing to tamp down the hurt. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. Normally the queen of snarky retorts, words failed her now.

  Wrapping her arms around her middle, she hunched her shoulders, a defense mechanism built from years of practice. “It’s okay. I’m as much at fault. I… You don’t know me, so you can’t know what…” Unsure how to finish the sentence, she trailed off, ducking her head to avoid his gaze.

  “I didn’t kiss you with a plan to seduce.” Sam put his finger under her chin and lifted her face. “I’m not apologizing for kissing you, just for moving things along too fast. I don’t usually give a woman I’ve just met the bum’s rush, but I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

  She lost herself in the depths of his eyes, forgetting to reply when the dimple on the left side of his mouth reappeared around his half-smile. By the time a full-blown grin spread across his lips, she recalled where she was, and that he needed a reply.

  “I’m not going to lie. I’ve thought about you a lot lately. But, yeah, that might have been the tiniest bit too fast. Didn’t make me want it any less, though.” She traded grins with him and then pushed to her feet. The sight of him sitting at her feet, smiling up at her, made longing roar to life. Giving herself a mental shake, she extended her hand to help him to his feet.

  Instead of taking it, he pinned his hungry gaze on her outstretched palm and licked his lips. The rush of damp heat between her legs made her want to fan herself. Or grab a shower…preferably with this gorgeous man to scrub the ache away.

  Sam broke the spell when he finally accepted her offer and let her pull him up. He continued to hold onto her, seductively rubbing his thumb over her wrist.

  “Okay, I can scale it back, for a while. Until we aren’t strangers anymore.” He winked at her. “In the meantime, I’ll work up an estimate for the panels and get it to you. We’ll build them fast, solid, and best of all, cheap.”

  “Don’t worry about an estimate. Can you have the panels built by the end of next week?”

  “It’ll be tight, but I’m sure we can.” Sam released her and tucked his fist in his back pocket, shooting his hip out in a cocky manner.

  “Perfect. Silas’s photos are scheduled for delivery here in two weeks.”

  Rikki pushed her hair back over her shoulder and picked up the remains of their dinner while Sam folded the checkered tablecloth. She gathered up her papers, tossed the refuse from their meal into a trashcan by the front door, and snapped the lights off.

  Light reflecting from the bay sparkled on the museum’s walls and ceiling, turning the interior into a glittering fairyland. The sudden light and shadow of the space was enchanting, cocooning. It settled on Rikki’s shoulders like soft moonlight through a stained glass window.

  Sam pressed his palm against the door when she reached for the handle, preventing her from opening it. Leaning into her, he pecked her cheek, a brief brush of his lips that succeeded in twisting her insides again. Gazing into his eyes, she lost herself in the sweetness of the moment, until he dropped his large hand over hers and helped her ease the door open.

  After pulling the heavy glass closed behind her, she locked up the building and let Sam walk her to her car. As she backed out of the space, he leaned on the car parked next to hers, arms folded over his chest, his eyebrows drawn together in an intense stare. She fluttered her fingers at him in a little wave and drove off, thinking about the next time she’d see him. Oh, please let it be soon.

  Chapter 6

  Her bedroom lightened as the sun dawned, the shadows disappearing on the popcorn ceiling she’d contemplated most of the night. From the time she’d fallen into bed at midnight, until somewhere around three in the morning, Rikki had tossed fitfully, unable to stop thinking about Sam. And his dimples. Or his sexy, commanding lips.

  Damn! She was doing it again. She flipped on her side and impatiently shoved the blankets off her legs, disgusted at the path of her thoughts. It wasn’t good to obsess about anything for too long. Shifting positions again, she curled her arm up, tucking her fist underneath the cheek pressed against the down-filled pillow. The position put her pinkie against her lips, which fired the memory of how she’d tingled when Sam had laved her fingertip. The throbbing she’d tried hard to ignore all night leaped to life between her thighs. A splendid way to wake up, if there had been someone in the bed who could ease the aching, pulsing sensation.

  In this heightened state of arousal, waking up alone sucked. She considered masturbating for a second, then tossed the thought away. It would be a poor substitute for the real thing.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Rikki,” she scolded aloud. “Laying here thinking about it isn’t going to help.”

  Throwing her pillow toward her feet, she pushed the covers to the floor and rolled out of bed. Squinting at the clock, she had a decision to make. It was just shy of eight. She could brew a pot of coffee, or she could go for a run. Caffeine wouldn’t lessen the ache between her legs—but maybe she could exercise it away.

  Scrounging through her drawers for shorts, she admitted it might be time to do some laundry. Casting her gaze around the piles strewn around her bedroom in search of clean clothes, she caught sight of a stack of folded items atop a wooden rocking chair in the corner. She stripped off her sleep shorts and navigated her way across the room, dodging the jeans and shirt she’d dropped to the floor last night.

  “Okay, tonight I’ll pick this place up.” She let out a half-embarrassed laugh. There was no one here to hold her to that promise.

  Pulling her tennis shoes on and lacing them comfortably, she hit the kitchen for a glass of water. She gathered her hair in a messy knot on the top of her head and swung past her desk to grab the smallest camera she owned. She never went anywhere without one these days. Tucking it into the back pocket of her violet-colored running jacket, she plucked a key off the hook by the door. She couldn’t be bothered with music this morning, knowing that her favorite running partner, Bon Jovi, would sing that song about not being strangers anymore. And that would revive her memory of Sam, defeating the purpose of the run.

  Rikki walked out her front door into the early spring morning. The sun was well into its arc over the Atlantic Ocean and the New England air was cool and bracing against her bare legs. Taking a moment, she stretched and limbered up. She took off at a fast walk to warm up her muscles, gradually lengthening her stride and increasing her pace to a comfortable jog. The world was coming to life around her. Birds sang their daily greetings from the trees. One of her new neighbors stepped out of his front door in a bathrobe and bare feet and waved to her, then stooped to pick up his morning paper.

  By the time she turned the corner into the seaside park, her favorite running trail, her muscles started humming and her breath settled into a natural rhythm. The morning was cool enough to keep the sweat from breaking out on her forehead until after her fifth minute. She lost herself in the physical, finally able to put thoughts of everything, including Sam, out of her mind. It was just her breath and her focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

  Reaching a point where she knew she’d have to turn back, or risk turning her head-clearing run into a half-marathon, she stopped to catch her breath. She continued to walk, keeping her muscles warm, and checked her watch. Darned if she hadn’t covered four miles in an eight-minute mile pace. Pretty damn good, considering how tired she was after losing sleep to thoughts of Sam Kerrigan. Sliding an arm across her forehead, she wicked the sweat away with the sleeve of her running jacket. She did a fast celebratory jog in place, then twisted around to start back toward home.

  The man responsible for her overnight torment ran toward her, as if conjured by her thoughts.

  The early morning sun highlighted the wide expanse of his bare chest. His deliciousl
y stacked abdominal muscles shortened her already labored breath. Black hair covered his chest, tapering into a thin arrow that disappeared beneath the waist of his shorts. A T-shirt hung out of the back of his running shorts, bouncing provocatively with each stride, his legs pumping powerfully. Her hand went automatically to the zipped pocket on the back of her jacket where she’d stored her camera. Even with sweat dripping down his torso, he was god-like. Anyone who looked that good deserved to have their image immortalized on film. He closed the distance between them in short order. The mesmerizing sight of all that lean muscle heading straight toward her made her forget to pull out the camera.

  As he approached her and slowed to a stop, a wide grin illuminated his face more than the slanting sun.

  “Good morning. Great day for a run, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Panting, he bent at the waist and braced his hands on his knees. Rikki’s mouth watered as the sleek, damp muscles shifted in his bare back while he caught his breath. Lifting his head, he unleashed those damn dimples again. It was like he knew they were her kryptonite. Memories of last night’s kiss flared to life.

  He straightened up, exposing his sweaty chest to her hungry eyes. Dark nipples, pebbled tightly in the cool morning air, peeked out from his perfectly furred chest, and Rikki had to beat down the desire to lick the sweat away. She cleared her throat so she could make words come out. “Yeah, it is. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?”

  “Nope. I’m class-free until ten this morning. I thought I’d take advantage and get my run in early. I won’t have time this afternoon. I normally run with the track team, but I called off practice due to some standardized testing this week. Academics first, that’s our motto.”

  “You coach the track team and the photography club? And have a second job?”