“You’re unbelievable.”
“No.” Vic leaned forth and cupped his hand around her neck, pulling her face to face with him. “You are.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Not interested.”
Surprise careened into her eyes.
Vic touched his lips to hers and feathered them against the supple skin. He liked that his comment knocked her off balance. He hoped it meant that he had sway over her, that something special was growing between them.
Closing his eyes, he filled his mind with her image. Her spicy scent permeated his senses and with a finger to her chin, he dipped his tongue into her mouth. Warm and wet, blood surged into his groin.
She groaned and the guttural sound engorged him.
His sorrow long forgotten, Vic was overwhelmed by new emotions…thrill, pleasure, gratitude and admiration, his tongue seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling and plunging as it snaked around hers. Vic swiped his fingers inside her mouth, then slid the slick moisture over her lips and around them—everywhere—as Sam opened further.
He wanted her with an intensity he believed impossible to fill, though he wanted to try. Each and every inch of him wanted to try. He pulled away, her lips swollen and red. “Sam.” He stroked her cheek, ran his hand over her face, a blind man reassuring himself of her identity. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Anna.”
Brown eyes melted at his admission.
“I should have, but—”
Sam placed a finger to his lips.
To silence him.
While he appreciated her intention, he wasn’t finished. Vic withdrew her hand and enclosed it in his own. Long and tapered, hers felt delicate within his clasp. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me.”
The serenity of her smile reached into his chest and cradled his heart. “I want you to know I’m sorry for hiding my past from you. If there had been any other way, any possible way I could have told you, I would have.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Please believe that.”
I would have, had I known you.
“But I’ve been chasing Scaliano for so long I didn’t want anything to jeopardize my chances.” Vic lowered his gaze and allowed the truth to slither in. “I told Raul I liked to go by Marin, instead of Marinelli, because I didn’t want to jeopardize my involvement in the case.” He hated to hear himself say the words, but he wanted her to hear them. To know where he was coming from, why he did what he did. It was important.
Vic returned to face her head-on and in a split second of recognition, knew she understood. He released a sigh. Sam understood. “I only hope you can forgive me.”
She brought their hands to her lips and pressed a firm kiss into his. Tears glazed in the subtle light as she stared.
His future hung in the balance.
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
Out of the shadows, he had been freed.
Words were over.
There was nothing left to say. No more secrets, no more confessions. Except one. Molded skin-to-skin, excitement poured through him. Nuzzling her cheek, he covered her mouth with his own and tasted, explored, keeping his pressure light and easy. He roamed down her neck, taking pleasure in the hint of salt on her skin while his hand sought the velvet of her breast. Drawn back to her mouth, he brushed over it and landed on her ear, whispering, dipping his tongue in and out, swirling around and back down her neck, pleased by the sheet of gooseflesh that fired across her chest.
Rewarding him with a moan, a spasm rippled along his newly-formed erection. Hunger gave way to craving, the likes of which clawed across his body. Vic ran a finger down across her flat abdomen and over her mound to part the soft folds between her thighs. Entering with a slippery glide, she groaned. His groin pulsed. Vic kissed her again, briefly, but impatient for a taste of her he pulled away and engulfed her breast.
Sam gasped, overcome by the competing sensations in her body. His hot mouth melted the knot of her nipple while the stiff rod of his finger plunged and stroked. He increased his tempo and worked her body until the two merged into one, a spray of fireworks shooting from all points of her body exploding across her torso. Then he mounted her and entered. The steel of his muscle shoved past her quivering flesh and pierced her to the core while he ground his pelvis into hers.
Waves of pleasure rocked her body. With deep penetrations, Vic grabbed hold of her hips and accelerated, long sweeping thrusts in and out. While her body tossed about like a rag doll, he seemed calm and in control. Centered. Sam flung her arms out to anchor herself and managed to lock her legs around him as he continued faster, harder. Her breath fired in rapid gasps until all at once his body went rigid. She arched her back and squeezing her thighs together as he emptied himself into her. A myriad of color burst in her mind, but she maintained full pressure until her ultimate detonation.
Then her strength snapped. Her legs gave way, her muscles quickly became trembling nothing. She could do nothing but let the pleasure stream through her body, wash through her entire being. Vic collapsed onto her, the sweat of his skin feeling slick across hers. She could feel the pounding in his chest, the hot breaths on her neck as he recovered. Unable to move, she lay there.
And savored a private smile. She had little choice but to wait. Much like Vic. The man was insatiable, but fulfilled. For the moment.
And heavy. Pleasantly flattened, Sam brought her forearms to rest on the broad expanse of his back. She wanted to be close but this was about the closest thing to a hug she could muster.
His apology tonight had nearly left her speechless. After everything he’d been through, he was apologizing to her and for what? Concealing his identity? Vigorously serving his cause for justice?
Victor Marinelli.
The name floated through her mind. Italian, passionate…
The man was a gem. Grace and gallantry his was a beauty formed like a diamond. Years spent under intense pressure produced remarkable strength and brilliance. Vic was scorching passion, sweet vulnerability, yet he donned a steel more brilliant than any knight’s armor.
Victor Marinelli. A keeper.
Struck by the implications, she felt a small resistance scurry across her skin. But she allowed it to pass without objection. She couldn’t deny her feelings. He had worthy qualities. Special qualities. If only they hadn’t been born from heartache.
Vic lifted from her once again and eased off to her side. He rolled onto his back and with a hand to his forehead, groaned aloud.
She couldn’t resist. “You okay?”
“A few more go-rounds like that one and I’ll be spectacular.”
She laughed. “You couldn’t handle a few more go-rounds like that one.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Well there you go. Never listen to a woman spawning an infinitesimal number of orgasms—she’s most likely possessed.”
“Look who’s talking.”
With surprising speed, he moved his upper body up and over her. “That’s right. I am.” He brushed fingers through her hair, the roots wet with sweat. “And you, my passion puss, are going to listen.”
Sam shook her head. “Where do you get the energy?”
“I’m younger than you, remember?”
She emitted a throaty chuckle. “Don’t get started down a road you can’t finish son, because I will finish it for you.”
“Promise?” He paused. “All the way to end?”
She eyed him with half-suspicion, half-alarm. Why did it sound like he was not referring to sex?
Vic leaned in, closing the space between them. “Avoiding the question, counselor?”
Her antennae shot up. Did she miss a detour some-where? The ceiling fan above became suddenly audible, its draft breezy and cool on her skin. “No,” she stammered. “I’m not avoiding anything.”
“Sure.” He brushed his nose across her chin. “You’re not avoiding anything.”
“That’s right,” she said, practically
tripping over her back pedal of defense. She sensed the man had veered off the subject of sex, cruising at high speed down the path of emotion. She stretched out a leg, glad for the return of strength, mobility.
“I like you, Sam.”
Her mouth went dry. “I like you, too.”
“A lot.”
“Me, too.” Her pulse quickened.
“More than anyone I’ve ever met.”
She latched onto his gaze. Was this a competition? Sam glanced about the room, glowing with a silvery veil of light. When did this happen? She tossed her gaze from wall to wall. Who ordered the moonlight? Her eyes shot to the patio doors and to her disbelief, over the balcony the moon hung full, dishing out ambiance like it was going out of style.
“I like the way you squirm.”
Her gaze zeroed in on Vic. His grin was comfortable and confident. She pulled a knee up and parked it between them. “I’m not squirming.”
He ran an open palm across her cheek and through her hair, pulling a fistful of curls back toward him. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deeply.
Suddenly, she felt naked in his spotlight of attention. Then, she watched him dip down and plant a soft kiss on her lips, his eyes glued to hers all the while.
“I really like you, Sam.”
Butterflies swarmed. He pecked her cheek with another kiss. She grinned, despite herself. What the hell was he doing?
He cut the space between them to a sliver. His dark brown gaze became a cave of heat, cornering her beneath the shadow of his strong brow. Fire sparked like a torch, lighting the blacks of his eyes and as he neared, she could feel his breath as it brushed her skin, then opened into a smile. “I love you, Sam Rawlings.”
Nerves sprayed and popped at his admission.
He what?
Chapter Twenty-Five
“With all my heart…I love you.”
Uttered a hair above a whisper, the explosion from those three little words was deafening. A specter of emotion cascaded through her mind, ribbons of light eddied and swirled. Vic loved her.
The knowledge encircled her heart, flushed her body with molten heat as he brushed his nose back and forth across hers.
“C’mon, Sam. I know you feel something for me.”
Hot waves of affection tumbled over ambivalence. She did. She did feel something for him. A lot of something, but love? She peered up into his gaze. Her heart thrashed against the tumbling of emotion. Love him? Did she really?
“Chicken?”
The sudden twinkle in his eye was more than she could stand, causing her to giggle. Nervous laughter gave way to throaty chuckle as excitement ramped up. “Chicken, I’m not. I’m a two-headed, fire-breathing dragon, remember?”
He shook his head as though she were an errant child. “You forgot one-of-a-kind, purebred stallion.”
“Silly me.”
“Yes,” he murmured, and settled in against her body, his naked skin hot against hers. “Silly, crazy, incredibly sexy you.”
Much as she liked their playful banter, Sam didn’t want the moment to pass unanswered. She wanted Vic to know she did feel something for him. Whatever it meant, wherever it led, she wanted him to know she was okay with it. She brought a hand to his face, and stilled the frenzy of emotion raging inside her, while she still couldn’t believe what she was about to say, she uttered the words, “I love you, too.”
He nuzzled her ear with his lips. “I knew you did.”
“Did not.”
“You’re as transparent as a child.”
He was starting to sound like Jen. When he kissed her, she felt him stiffen into her thigh. She looked down at the joining of their hips and snapped her gaze back to him. “You can’t be serious.”
Vic laughed, buoyant and uninhibited. “It’s your damn fault!”
“You’re incorrigible, young man.” Sam laughed along with him. “Absolutely incorrigible.”
He pushed himself against her and took a swipe at her breast. “Guilty as charged.”
Sam stretched awake as the warm and gentle breeze caressed her naked body. Sprawled across 800-count sheets, refreshingly exhausted from a night of pure fantasy, she felt whole. Last night had been a turning point, one she was still processing. Rolling her head to face Vic, she smiled. In his sleep, his sharp features were soft, his body relaxed, and an air of innocence seemed to hover about him.
He loved her. The knowledge spread through her like wildfire. He loved her. And she loved him. Words exchanged, hearts entwined, she was still getting used to the strange new feeling of being in love. Not like she had never said the words before, but when it came to a man, a lover, they were rare. And uttered only once before him, to her first love.
Vic turned to her, an arm falling next to her. Sam secured her hand over it. Thick and warm, the hair running down his forearm was fine and smooth. No matter what happened between them, she knew he would always hold a special place in her heart.
He opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Good morning.”
“Sleep well?”
“All three hours.”
“That’s your fault, not mine.”
In an unexpected burst of movement, he rolled over and covered her with his body. “You won’t hear me complain.”
She never did. It was something he didn’t do.
“So what’s on the menu?” He glanced at his bulky stainless steel watch. “I’ve got to be at work in an hour and my boss is a real bear.”
“Excuse me?”
“You serving coffee this morning?”
“Not a chance in hell.” She wasn’t sure she could move, let alone cook. “And who are you calling a bear?”
“My boss.”
“Boss, my—”
The soft pillow whacked against her head. She yanked it from her face and glowered.
He grinned. “You’re not the domestic type, are you?”
“No.”
“Good thing for you, I am.” With amazing agility, Vic pushed off her and swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. “Where do you keep the coffee grounds?”
Sam lifted her head and peered at him between sleepy lids. “You always this energetic in the morning?”
“When my engines have been greased, tuned and run full-throttle, you bet your ass I am.”
She dropped her head back onto the pillow. “Now I’m driving a Ferrari.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. And your coffee grounds are located in the shelf above the coffeemaker.”
“Doughnuts are too much to expect, aren’t they.”
“Don’t eat the poison, but if you feel the need, you’ll find eggs in the fridge.” She rolled onto her side, and gave a punch to the pillow beneath her head, plumping it under her neck. “I like mine over easy.”
Vic smacked her rear. “No surprise there.”
Sam chuckled as he walked out of the room. As he left, her gaze moved outdoors, running free through the bright, morning sunlight. Open sky was all she could see, the promise of another glorious South Florida day. But she wasn’t ready to welcome it yet, so she closed her eyes, clinging to her last few minutes of shuteye.
Relaxed in the quiet, she filled her lungs with a long slow breath. Releasing the same, the exercise proved cleansing and calming. Not that she needed cleansing. She felt happy. No stress, no negativity, her mood left no room for anything but joy. And it was an incredible feeling. To be at peace, to be at one… Sam inhaled again, detecting the first hint of fried eggs drifting in from the kitchen, images of Vic and his smile filtering in behind. Strong, sexy images alternating with tender, sensitive ones…his was a remarkable combination.
Especially considering his past. The death of a loved one had the capacity to ice a heart, rendering it hard and brittle. Yet Vic’s was no such thing. His lovemaking was hot and fluid, his words warm and loving. His was an adventure that never bored, a ride that continued to thrill.
And they were in love.
>
Her eyes popped open. Affection welled within and she allowed her gaze to wander high into the sky. Settling into the idea, she thought theirs was a fantastic union, sweet and delicious, hot and hungry, it didn’t get any better than Vic.
She felt the bed jostle as he crawled over and descended upon her. He nestled his face against her ear. “Coffee’s ready.”
The scratch of his stubble sent a rush of tingles straight to her nipples. “Smells good.”
“Sumatra Roast.”
Savoring the skin-to-skin contact as he molded himself to her backside, she grinned. “My favorite flavor.”
“More than me?”
“Not even close.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He covered her breast with his hand and gently kneaded. Nuzzling his nose in the hair behind her ear, he asked, “Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Unfortunately, all I have to offer is bagels and eggs. No bacon in sight.”
“Bad for your arteries. But that sausage you’re cooking back there...”
Circling her nipple with his forefinger, he nipped her earlobe and pressed his erection into the small of her back. “It’s called exercise. Keeps the cholesterol demons at bay.”
Emanating from deep in her belly, a blaze of desire swept through her groin. She turned to face him. “If you’re interested in some more action, you might want to feed me first.”
“That, I can do.” Taking her by the hand, he rose from the bed and pulled her up with him. “Let’s eat.”
Noting that he had donned a pair of boxers, Sam grabbed a short silk robe from the back of her bedroom door, and slipped it on. She followed him into the kitchen and discovered the man held a Master’s in domestic engineering. Without direction, he set the table on the patio, served coffee, and prepared enough breakfast for five hungry men.
She gaped. “Who’s going to eat all that food?”
“You and me, sweetheart,” he grinned, and divided the eggs between two plates. “You and me.”
“This may come as a news flash, but I don’t do breakfast.”
“No? The most important meal of the day?” Vic shook his head. “And I thought you were a smart woman.” He divvied up two bagel halves per person, accompanied by a fat wad of butter and tall glass of orange juice.
Lust on the Rocks Page 21