Tears pricked at her eyes.
“They were my choices and well...” A smile peeked out from the gloom. “I think I was a little hard on you.”
“I’m tough. I can handle it.”
Jess chuckled and though it was faint, it was genuine. “True, but you shouldn’t have to be. Not on my account. Not when,” her expression sobered. “Not when you were only trying to help. Mostly I want you to know I’m sorry for all the grief I caused.” Her smile broadened. “And I love you.”
Sam hugged her hard. “I do too, punk. I do, too.” She was so young, so sweet and life was so tough. So damn tough that sometimes she wished she could just smooth the way, point out the landmarks, the best vistas and warn her off the steep cliffs and landslide dangers.
Jessica released and said, “Listen, I haven’t said anything to Craig about this so—”
“Done,” Sam said. “The man won’t hear it from me.” Though she didn’t say it, Sam could tell this gag order extended to Mom and Dad as well. “This doesn’t go any farther than here.”
“Thanks,” she said, visibly relieved.
“Eventually, you may change your mind.”
Round eyes pleaded for space. “I can’t face them right now.”
With an abrupt tug at her own intentions, Sam reminded herself not to push. “Does Luke know you’re coming back?”
She nodded.
Young and delicate, her expression reflected the pain, fresh and raw as though it happened yesterday. It pulled at Sam’s heart. “He needs time, Jess. He’ll come around, you’ll see.”
She blinked and tears caught in her lashes. “Doubt it.”
Resolve fired through her veins. “He loves you of that you can be sure.” Met with a skeptical gaze, she continued, “A lot of guys would have left the minute they learned of the pregnancy. He didn’t. He asked you to marry him. That’s a special kind of love. One with staying power, you can count on it.”
“Great. He’ll make someone very happy.” Her voice broke as she added, “It just won’t be me.”
And as Sam watched a swollen tear plummet to the blue cotton of her shirt, irony struck. It was exactly how she felt about Vic. Her breathing slowed. Deep down, in the core of her being, Sam wanted to be that woman, the one he cradled in his arms every night. The one he nurtured and protected. The one he came home to, dined with, made love to…
She quickly buried the desire. It was nothing more than a foolish distraction. Vic had been a wonderful experience but the two of them didn’t have staying power. He needed love and commitment. He needed safe and secure, a warm marital bed and a house full of children. Her breathing grew shallow as the reality anchored deep. None of which she could give him because marriage and family were not on her agenda. She had everything she needed, worked for years to achieve. She couldn’t let the distractions of her heart detour her from success simply because she missed the sign. Soft shoulder up ahead.
Sam centered on her sister and embraced her with tender contemplation. This was a big moment in her life and she was proud of the way she handled herself, proud of the way she was moving forward. It hurt right now, but she’d be okay. They both would. Jess’ life may have been modeled after her own in some ways and mistakenly so, but decisions fed life, much like a river branched and channeled. It was a winding path, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but always moving and with each new decision came a new and winding turn, some of them treacherous, some of them easy but all worth experiencing.
Sam thought about their lives, compared their choices. Jess could have been her. Fifteen years ago, she could have found herself with an unexpected pregnancy and what then? She dallied in the impossible world of what-ifs, lingering on an image of herself hitherto unimaginable. What would she have done? Who would she be today? Someone’s mother? Someone’s wife?
A shudder raced up her spine. Everything she worked for, strived for, and currently stood on the verge of attaining would have been at risk—if not entirely lost—had her life taken a different turn. Not that one was right and the other wrong, she reminded herself. Just different.
She’d leave the judging to a higher power.
“Give it time,” Sam said quietly. “Things will work out for the best,” she added, though not entirely sure she believed it. But with no choice, she let go and gently closed the lid on her doubts.
Chapter Thirty-Two
With Jess gone, Sam wanted only one thing. She wanted to be with Vic. More, she needed to be with Vic and invited him over for dinner. She wanted his touch, his nearness. She needed his affection, his embrace—his love even—and finally it was hers. Together in her bedroom, the meal long forgotten, the blinds pulled open to allow the sultry night in, Sam slid her arms around his neck. Outside the moon sat high in the sky, its light spilling onto the bay in a sheet of white while inside the silvery light cast her linens in a velvety glow.
Content within his embrace, Sam touched her forehead to his.
Vic brushed the hair from her face and feathered kisses along her cheek. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, the heat of his breath welcome as he nipped at her lobe, the move firing shivers to her nipples, tightening her bare skin beneath the flimsy silk camisole.
She nuzzled against his cheek, indulging in the freshly-shaven softness. Running her hands over his shoulders and along his back, she kissed the side of his head and savored the soft tickle of his short hair. She traced his ear with her fingertips, grazed it with her lips, then skimmed it with the tip of her tongue.
Vic hugged her to him and she pushed into his embrace. “It’s been too long,” he murmured into her shoulder.
Eyes closed, Sam smiled. A week? But deciding it was better he think the time too long than too soon, she said nothing, only breathed in the scent of him, relishing the fresh citrusy cologne she had come to adore.
“God, have I wanted you…” He ran his open mouth up her neck, then pulled her away from him and ran his lips over hers. Pausing on her mouth, he uttered, “Wanted this, wanted you…”
Relaxing into his will, Sam allowed him to consume her, kiss her mouth, slide his tongue inside and swirl it around. She wanted to lose herself in his desire. She wanted him to take her body to points of climax only he could take her.
Vic cupped her chin and pulled her face closer. He kissed her deeply using wide swaths of his tongue then slid it across her cheek. Hot and wet, her nipples tingled in response. “You drive me crazy,” he said, and slid the thin strap from her shoulder, then followed with his lips. “Watching you work, standing so close…”
She swept her hands up the muscular mounds in his back and grasped his neck, kissing him, tasting him. From in between them, he pulled the shirt down to expose her breast which he quickly covered with the palm of his hand—the warm palm of his hand—and massaged her nipple with his thumb until it grew stiff.
Sam moaned at the glorious sensations coursing through her, amplified by the knowledge of what was to come. Vic took her face in his hands and brushed his nose against hers, the contact intimate, loving. It was an unspoken communication of his she had come to cherish. A small move that made her yearn for more.
Through the pale light of her bedroom she could see his eyes, the hooded line of his lashes thick and black and underscoring the white pearls of moonlight reflected within. “I love you, Sam.”
The declaration was no greater than a whisper yet it was intense, piercing, and one she had grown accustomed to hearing. She replied with a sigh, “I love you, too.” And while she experienced a slew of mixed emotions at voicing the words, she did mean them. Sam loved him. Whatever ideology they didn’t share, whatever background they didn’t have in common, they did have this connection, this driving desire that fused them together as one right here, right now, and she would relish every second of it, for the present was all they had.
Cradling her head in his hands, Vic kissed her, deeply yet keeping his pressure light and tender, as if he were trying to convey how precious he found he
r, how fragile. He ran his tongue along her lips, gently sucked them inside. Then he turned soft and furious, like he couldn’t get enough of her. “You are so beautiful… Every bit of you is pure fantasy.”
Sam ached for him to push harder, seek deeper, rip the clothes from her body and take her right this instant. She wanted him to fill her, for his desire was the balm for what burned deep in her soul. His touch was the match that lit her heart with passion, but his absence was the cold reality that doused her flames. While it was true his love stirred stormy emotion within her, his presence provided the calm. Vic’s embrace was her shelter. When she was with him, Sam felt like she was home.
Running hands through her hair, he pulled it snug and licked the ridge of her throat. “The things you do to me,” he said into her neck, nibbling his way down and then back up. “The things I want to do to you, especially to those luscious lips of yours.” He ran his fingers around her mouth then tugged at them with his teeth firing another sheet of goose bumps across her breasts. “God help me, but you kill me with those things,” he mumbled almost to himself as he toyed with her mouth, sucked in her lower lip and sent a ricochet of pulsations to her loins.
Ah yes…the things he would do to her. Her soft delicate folds below flushed with the heat of desire. Exactly what she was waiting for—the sensations that would make her quiver, make her wanting, willing to beg for more.
Maintaining hold of her hair, Vic drew his free hand across her collarbone, then placed his fingers on her neck as though assessing where he would next attack. “Tonight I want to taste your every inch.”
She emitted a throaty moan and smiled. “Ready when you are…”
“Anything in particular?” he teased, brushing his finger along the underside of her exposed breast.
Pulling her head forward against his grip, she looked him straight in the eye. “You’ve spoiled me with every-thing you do. Take your pick, but get to it soon.”
Vic’s gaze spiked with pleasure and he said. “You’re impatient.”
She grinned. “Am I now?” Seized by a sudden burst of energy, Sam decided two could play at this game and unwound herself from his grasp. “Do you want to know how impatient feels?”
Surprise and delight mixed together in the smolder of his gaze. “Don’t know. Do I?”
She chuckled low and guttural. “Well, let’s see...” She pushed off from his knees and walked over to the stereo. Working from the knowledge of memory in the dim light, she sought the buttons and within seconds, a slow and sultry instrumental filled the room.
His dark gaze simmered as he sat back on his hands. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?”
“Mood music?” he quipped, though his gaze latched onto her hips as she began to sway them in tune with the Flamenco weaving its way through the bedroom. Strings of a solo guitar were being plucked one by one, precise yet echoing, forming an image in her mind. This was a man playing. Wanton and longing, he was hungry for the touch of his lover. Sliding the straps from her shoulders, Sam empathized. It was a feeling she knew all too well.
Vic’s attention grew taut as she stroked her breasts dark rosy nipples standing erect. His lips parted, but his gaze never moved. Her lips curled into a smile. Willful, brazen, she knew what she was doing to him and she wanted him to feel it, every second. She wanted him to be mesmerized, captive to his own carnal desire.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”
She rendered a small smile. “I think I do.” Aban-doning her chest, Sam slid her hands to the button on her jeans, then slowly pulled the zipper open. Keeping rhythm as the tempo twanged and climbed, she pushed the denim down her hips, undulating as she did so, revealing her favorite pair of lace panties. They were nothing more than a swatch of red.
Vic’s attention was fixed on her underwear. “It’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to leap from this bed and rip those jeans from your body.”
Sam gave a long, slow shake of her head as her hands slid back up her body, following the curve of her hips. Now he was getting the idea.
The pick of guitar strings began to grow restless, needy. The rhythm thumped, swirled around them and then fell away in a tumble of momentary surrender as she bent over and peeled the pants from her body. Standing before him, she traced the gauzy red material then followed the strips of fabric that lead back to her rear with a slow, wide, grind of her hips. Vic didn’t take his eyes from her as she touched and skimmed her nipples. Staring at him through a fallen curl, Sam kneaded and massaged her breasts, the delicate tank she wore lifting and falling, revealing the flat of her abdomen.
Vic groaned aloud, the sound gravelly and rough.
Steeped in desire, Sam continued to sway and felt her feminine folds become swollen with want, her body pulled to the edge of climax by her own hand, her own excite-ment as her lover watched her every move.
Lifting her arms above her head, Sam shimmied and shook to the music, losing herself in the careen of its rhythm, the sweeping highs and lows as the guitarist filled the room with heavy-handed strumming. Pulsating, thumping, the music was urgent, demanding and Sam responded. As the music increased its tempo, so did she, as though dancing for the guitarist, like the man was watching her as she danced to his whim. Faster and harder the musician worked while Sam held her arms up, wildly moved her body around, then swept her hands down and stroked the lines of her hips, her ribs, ran her fingers through her hair as she immersed herself in the moment and the ensuing release.
On the next turn, Sam swayed forward but Vic leaped from the bed and seized hold of her. He spun her around, crashed his mouth to hers and grasped hold of her rear, her waist, sought hold of as much of her as he possibly could get as he pressed her to him.
No shock, no hesitation, Sam met his every move with an animalistic greed of her own. Strong, determined, she was fully in tune with Vic as he wrestled their tangle of bodies to the bed, ripped the shirt from her body and dove his mouth to her neck, her breast. Sinking into the fluff of her comforter, she was sharply aware of his rock hard groin, could almost feel the pound of his heart. He covered her body with his own and burrowed into the crux of her neck and hair, his breathing hot and fast as he ravaged her skin with his mouth.
Pinned beneath him, she said, “God, I love it when you take charge!”
“You love me period,” he replied, moving from her neck to shoulder, running his tongue, his lips across her every inch.
Succumbing to the physical pleasure coursing through her body, she wrapped her arms around his waist and surrendered to the emotion. Sam knew it was true. She did love him, period. Mind and body, she loved one Vic Marin. Whatever it meant, it was a feeling she could not deny, a connection she could not ignore.
Suddenly Vic slowed his actions. He moved from her chest to her face and with the quiet depth she had come to understand, he stared into her eyes, moving his gaze back and forth across hers. No words, no touch, nothing else was needed as he conveyed everything he felt with fluid certainty. They were on the same channel. Each wanted to give the other whatever they needed, whatever they desired. Way beyond the physical, the two wanted to fill and be filled.
Unhurried now, the music mellowed into a sinuous cadence around them. Vic removed his shirt, his jeans. He removed his underwear but as he slid them off, Sam slid her hand on. Soft and supple, she ran her fingers the length of his rigid erection and marveled at the contrast of steel and satin. He pressed into her, momentarily trapping her hand between the warmth of their bodies. Running the pad of his finger along her brow, he gazed at her intently. “I love you, Sam.”
“Me, too.”
“I need to feel you. I need to be inside you.”
She felt a burning need for the same, her soft flesh pulsating for his touch.
Vic angled away from her and tugged at the thin strip on her hip. She lifted her hips in response and he slid the damp underwear to her knees. She pulled her ankles in but before she could push he
r panties up and over, Vic slid a finger inside her.
He groaned. “You are so wet.”
She peered at him through half-closed eyes with a smile. “I am so ready.”
“One of the things I love most about you,” he replied with quick grin.
Removing her underwear completely she tossed them to the floor and rolled over top of him. Pushing hands to his shoulders, she’d had enough foreplay. She was ready for the main event. Centering herself, she slipped him inside and lowered herself until her inner thighs lay skin-to-skin with his stomach. “Oh my...” She moaned as her insides closed around him.
“Tell me about it.” Vic closed his eyes and reached for her rear. Guiding himself even further inside, Sam dug her nails into his shoulders. Her head dropped forward and she ground into him, reaching spots of pleasure she didn’t know existed.
With a softer tune cascading around them, they slowly increased their tempo. Long sweeps were followed by several deep ones, then faster, harder until need took over and turned her world upside down. Oblivious to the sheen of sweat forming across her body, the screaming burn of her thighs, Sam pumped while Vic clamped down on her hips. He thrust upward and she held onto him, releasing all thought of anything but the sensations spread-ing through her—
Until hot flesh erupted in spasm, sending her orgasm up and around Vic, through her abdomen, across her chest, her shoulders, unfurling through her limbs as pleasure moved throughout her system, opened her every cell, unwound every fiber, reached every minute crevice of her body.
Vic gave one last thrust and her arms started to tremble as she supported herself over top of him. Over-come by a need for breath, a need for air, Sam wanted to roll off. But peering down at Vic, his expression blank but thoroughly consumed, she held onto to him and waited for signs she could release.
“I don’t think I can move,” he said.
“I may have to.”
“No—not yet.”
A chuckle escaped as she said, “I may not have a choice—I don’t think my arms can take another minute!” And she meant it. They were completely worthless at the moment.
Lust on the Rocks Page 28