Rikki

by Abigail Strom

  And then he kissed me.

  When our mouths met there was a muscle spasm low in my belly, just like when I was thirteen. Only this time, it didn’t end. The spasm went on and on until I was wild and desperate and hungry. I slid my arms around his neck and pressed myself against him, and Sam pulled back a millimeter before kissing me again, the fit of our mouths more perfect than before.

  He took two steps forward until my butt hit the desk again, and then he bent me back until I felt like I was falling… except that Sam wouldn’t let me fall. I was protected by his strength and I’d never felt more safe than I did in that moment.

  One of his arms was around my waist and his other hand cradled the back of my head. My upper body was suspended in the air, my spine arched against the forearm pressing into the small of my back.

  Sam’s mouth pressed hard against mine, urging my lips apart. When our tongues met the spasm in my belly sent feverish excitement into every corner of my body.

  I wouldn’t need to eat or drink or breathe ever again. All I needed was Sam’s tongue against mine and the sounds he made as he kissed me. All I needed was his body and his scent and the hunger that was turning me into a different person, a person who gripped Sam’s hair so hard it must have hurt him.

  Suddenly Sam pulled us upright, breaking the kiss, and I was afraid for a moment that I really had hurt him. But then he grabbed my hand and pulled me over to his bed, and this time when he bent me back we tumbled onto it together.

  We ended up side by side, kissing like we wouldn’t ever stop.

  I wanted him to touch my breasts again. I wanted him to touch me everywhere.

  Our upper bodies were touching but not our lower bodies. Sam was angled at the waist, his knees up a little, and when I tried to press my hips to his he bent them more.

  I knew what he was doing. He was hard and he didn’t want me to feel pressured.

  He was still protecting me, even though our kisses had grown so hungry and desperate that it felt like we were breathing each other instead of the air.

  But the spasm in my belly was an ache now, and I wanted to feel his erection cradled against me. Not skin against skin—not yet—but I needed the heat and the weight and the maleness of him.

  I’m not sure when it occurred to me that I didn’t have to wait for him to make that happen. I could make it happen.

  I dragged my mouth from his and said, panting, “Sam, I… I need something.”

  Sam stared at me, his eyes wild and his lips so thoroughly kissed that I couldn’t imagine what mine looked like.

  “Are we going too fast?” His voice was ragged, his breathing harsh. “I can slow down. I—”

  “No. No.” I reached down for the waistband of his sweatpants and tugged on them. “I need to feel you.”

  I watched him try to make sense of my words, as though I’d spoken in a foreign language. His knees were still up and I tried to push them down. When that failed, I slid my hand along his thigh until—

  “Rikki.”

  I took advantage of his shock to roll him onto his back and climb on top of him. This time I felt him just the way I wanted to, his hard length pressing against that place that ached and longed and needed.

  It felt so good I closed my eyes. Then Sam’s hands gripped my upper arms, and my eyes fluttered open again.

  His jaw was tight, and seeing the stubble there made my chin tingle where he’d scraped my skin raw. “This okay?” he grated out, his voice rough.

  “Yes. Yes. As long as… can we keep our clothes on?” I panted.

  He nodded. Then he rolled us over so that he was on top of me, and that was even better.

  I opened my legs and he settled in between them, the long, thick ridge of his erection right against my center.

  “Oh, God,” I said, and Sam froze.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No. It feels so good.”

  He was supporting his weight on his arms, and I ran my hands down the curve of his biceps.

  “I love your arms,” I said, and he looked so handsome when he smiled down at me that I almost couldn’t stand it.

  “Kiss me again,” I ordered him, and then we were pressed together mouth to toes.

  The kisses were deeper this time. And after a while I noticed that we were moving rhythmically, rubbing and bumping in a kind of… grind.

  We were grinding.

  The sound of that word in my head, hot and dirty and primal, made me want more.

  I pushed against Sam’s chest and he pulled back a little.

  “I want to take off my shirt. And my bra.”

  He stared at me a second and then swallowed hard. “I thought we were keeping our clothes on.”

  “Our pants,” I said. “We’re keeping our pants on.”

  Sam took in a deep breath and let it out. “If you want to take off your shirt and bra, I am down with that plan. I just have one request.”

  “What?”

  “Let me take them off for you.”

  I nodded. Then Sam rose up to his knees and pulled me up with him, so we were kneeling on the bed together.

  We were both breathing hard, both shaking, both desperate to start kissing again. But when Sam put his hands on the hem of my T-shirt, he suddenly stopped. For a second we stayed like that, Sam staring at my shirt and me staring at him.

  “What is it?” I asked after a moment, and he looked up with a grin so sexy it stopped my breath.

  “You don’t know what it was like for me all those weeks,” he said, and then he finally started lifting my shirt—but oh, so slowly.

  “What do you mean?” I whispered. His knuckles were brushing the bare skin of my waist and I shivered, a thousand butterflies in my belly.

  “Staring at you in the art studio and knowing I could never have you.”

  It seemed to take him forever, but finally, finally, I could raise my arms and let him slip my shirt up and off.

  He looked at my bra for a long moment, and I could feel my nipples hardening.

  “This one hooks in the back,” he said softly, and all I could do was nod.

  He leaned in close, sliding both hands up my back to the bra clasp. It opened, and Sam pulled it off and let it fall to the floor.

  I closed my eyes as Sam put his hands on my waist. Then he moved them up, up, up.

  “It was hard for me, too,” I whispered.

  I held my breath as Sam’s hands, so big and strong and gentle, smoothed over my ribs and onto my breasts.

  I gasped.

  “What was hard for you?” he asked, and I struggled to form words.

  “Not knowing what you were thinking. Not knowing what you wanted.”

  “I wanted you.”

  His hands moved up to my shoulders and then he was pushing me back, gently, until I was lying down again. He settled down beside me, propped up on his elbow, and his gaze raked over me from head to toe.

  “But I’m glad you didn’t know what I was thinking. If you knew all the dirty scenarios I’ve imagined you in, you wouldn’t let me anywhere near you.”

  Then he lowered his head and took my right breast in his mouth.

  I practically jumped off the bed, like he’d given me an electric shock. Sam pulled back a little and blew cool air where his mouth had been, and I quivered all over.

  I looped my arms around his neck and tried to pull him down, but I might as well have tried to move a brick wall.

  “I want you on top of me,” I panted. “Right on top of me.”

  Sam closed his eyes for a second. “I can do that,” he said—and he shifted his weight to give me what I wanted.

  His hard-on was cradled between my legs and my breasts were flattened against his chest.

  I squirmed underneath him for the sheer pleasure of the friction, and Sam groaned as he dropped his forehead on my shoulder.

  “Kiss me,” I whispered, and he raised his head, slid his hands into my hair, and brought his mouth down hard on mine.

  The k
iss this time was hotter and wetter, dirtier and more intense. After a while I started making this noise—a kind of low moan that sounded as dirty as the kiss.

  When I realized I was doing it I froze.

  Sam dragged his mouth away and looked down at me. “What?”

  I was panting. “I just… heard that sound I was making.”

  Sam grinned down at me. “Yeah. It’s a really good sound.”

  “It was a cavewoman sound.” I swallowed. “It was the sound of a woman who wants to have sex.”

  His eyebrows went up. “It could also be the sound of a woman who likes kissing me.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean yes, I like kissing you. But I also want to have sex. Oh, my God. I really do.” I grabbed his shoulders and stared up at him. “I want to have sex right now. With you.”

  Sam stared at me for a moment. Then he blinked.

  “What is it? What are you thinking?”

  “An hour ago I was torturing myself, imagining you with Jason and telling myself that only an idiot pines after a girl for six years. Now you’re in my bed begging me for sex.”

  “I’m not begging you for sex.”

  “No?”

  “It’s more like a demand.”

  Sam grinned again. Then he shifted onto his side and sort of gathered me in, holding me close and stroking my hair.

  “I’m not giving in to your demands tonight,” he said softly.

  I felt a wave of disappointment. “You’re not?”

  “No. We’ve both been drinking, for one.”

  “I had that rum hours ago. It has to be out of my system by now.”

  “And for another, there are a few things missing.”

  “Missing?”

  He kissed my forehead. “Candlelight. Roses.” He paused. “Also, condoms.”

  I closed my eyes as Sam kissed his way behind my ears and down my neck. “I guess condoms are mission-critical.”

  “Yeah,” he murmured, kissing the hollow at the base of my throat. “But it’s okay. I’ve waited for you a long time, Rikki. I can wait one more night.”

  His kisses were sending waves of pleasure through me, and I rolled onto my back to give him better access.

  “That feels so good,” I whispered, as he kissed his way along my breastbone and down to my stomach. When he started kissing his way back up again I said, “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “If we can’t have sex, how about going to third base?”

  He lifted his head to look at me. “Are you sure?”

  How could I know until I tried? “I think so.”

  His eyes darkened. He dipped his head and licked a slow circle around my belly button, and then I felt his fingers pop the button of my jeans.

  The minute I heard the zipper lowering, I knew I wasn’t quite ready after all.

  I grabbed Sam’s hair and he stopped immediately.

  “Okay,” I said breathlessly. “I think I was a little overambitious. Maybe we can save third base for tomorrow night?”

  He moved back up the bed to where I was, propping his head on his hand as he smiled down at me.

  “We can do that,” he said, brushing a lock of hair off my forehead. “I’ll pencil it in.”

  All of a sudden, a wave of sleepiness swept over me.

  “You want to know something strange?” I asked.

  He kissed the top of my head. “Always.”

  “I think I could fall asleep. Could you fall asleep?”

  “I could give it a shot.”

  I sort of nestled into him, sliding an arm around his waist and resting my head against his chest. “Good night, Sam.”

  “Good night, Rikki.”

  I didn’t drift off right away. Lying in his arms felt so good I struggled to stay awake a little longer, so I could enjoy it.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad we waited,” I whispered. “I’m glad we’ll be each other’s first time.”

  I must have fallen asleep after that. Because the next thing I knew, it was morning.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The sun was streaming directly into my eyes, and it hurt a little.

  My head hurt a little, too.

  After a while it dawned on me that I was hung over. Three rum and Cokes, and I was hung over. Did that make me a lightweight, or was that par for the course?

  I sat up in bed, rubbed my eyes, and realized something else.

  Sam wasn’t in the room.

  My mind recalled everything we’d done last night and my body tingled and quivered. But before I got a chance to enjoy the memory of exquisite pleasure, other things came rushing in.

  Embarrassment.

  Doubt.

  Confusion.

  Panic.

  Then the door opened, and Sam came in. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt and he was carrying a paper bag.

  He started to smile when he saw me, and then he noticed my expression.

  “Damn,” he said. “You’ve already started.”

  I hugged my knees to my chest and looked at him. “Started what?”

  He crossed the room, sat down beside me, and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Thinking,” he said. “You’ve started thinking. I was hoping to be back before that happened.”

  I hugged my knees harder, noticing for the first time that I was topless. “You had a plan to keep me from thinking?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. A two-pronged attack.” He opened the bag and showed me the doughnuts inside. “The first part of my plan was to distract you with sugar.” He dropped the bag on the bedside table and slid both hands into my hair. “The second was to distract you with lust.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but whatever it was got swallowed up in a hard, sweet, decadent kiss.

  “Okay, good plan,” I said a minute later, when Sam pulled back to smile at me. But then I gasped in sudden horror.

  “What?” he asked.

  “My mouth tastes awful. I must have the worst morning breath in the history of the world.”

  “I didn’t notice,” he said softly, reaching out and brushing the pad of his thumb over my lower lip.

  “How could you not notice?”

  “All I tasted was you.” He grabbed the paper bag and held it out to me. “But if you want to taste something different, have a doughnut.”

  I started to reach for one, and then I realized again how very, very topless I was. I grabbed for the blankets and felt my face heating up.

  Sam grinned at me. “You know I’ve seen your breasts, right? They’re perfect, by the way.”

  “They’re not perfect,” I muttered, but the compliment thrilled me in spite of myself.

  There was a short silence. Then: “Hey, Rikki?”

  Sam’s voice had turned serious, and I looked up to meet his eyes. “Yes?”

  “I know I can’t really stop you from thinking. If your brain could take a vacation you wouldn’t be you. I know you’re also a little freaked out about last night, and I get that. But I need you to know something.”

  “What?” I whispered.

  “Nothing about you is going to scare me off. Not your breath, not your brain, and definitely not your breasts. I’m all in. I want you in my bed tonight, and tomorrow night, and every night after that. And if it doesn’t happen, it’ll be because you decide you don’t want it to. Okay?”

  Another thrill ran through me. “Okay.”

  He held out the bag again. “So do you want a doughnut, or what?”

  I reached in, grabbed one, and took a big bite.

  “Yes, I do,” I said with my mouth full.

  Sam grinned and kissed me on the forehead. “Awesome. How about coffee?”

  “That’s a question you never need to ask.”

  * * *

  I sort of shimmered through the rest of the day.

  Tamsin figured out something was up and dragged all the details out of me. Not that she had to work too hard—
the truth was, I was dying to talk about Sam to someone.

  He’d invited me to spend the day with him, but I was afraid I wouldn’t get any work done if I did that. I wanted to be around him so much it scared me a little. So I told him I’d see him that night at dinner, and I went back to my room and tried to focus on class work.

  It was a huge relief to talk to Tamsin about Sam instead.

  The relief was even more intense when it was finally time to go down to dinner. My urge to see Sam again was like an ache in my bones, and when I stood in the dining hall doorway and spotted him at a table across the room, my heart fluttered in my chest like a hummingbird.

  And when he looked up and saw me, it was like a scene in a movie. Everything else seemed to fade away until Sam and I were the only two people in the world.

  Then Tamsin poked me in the ribs. “Get your tongue back in your mouth.”

  I had to force myself to go through the food line before sitting down at Sam’s table. But I was suddenly starving, and I took a big bowl of minestrone soup and two servings of lasagna.

  “Hungry?” he asked with a grin as I approached the table.

  I nodded, taking the seat next to him and feeling suddenly awkward. I felt like I wanted to kiss him hello, but I wasn’t sure if that was—

  He leaned close, wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and kissed me long and slow and deep.

  “I missed you,” he murmured when we broke the kiss.

  My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. “I missed you, too.”

  “Wow,” Tamsin said, sitting next to me on the other side. “You guys have it bad, huh?” She glanced at Sam’s tray and noticed his dessert. “Man, I forgot it was brownie day. I didn’t see them when I went through the line.”

  Sam rose from his chair, moving his hand to the back of my neck and making me shiver. “I got the last of the first batch but they were making a fresh tray. I’ll go see if it’s ready and snag a couple for you guys.”

  “Thanks, Sam—even though I know you’re really doing it for Rikki.”

  Sam smiled at Tamsin, kissed the top of my head, and went on the search for brownies. I followed him with my eyes until he disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Well, well, well.”