by Gracie Leigh
Except they weren’t holding hands, and Eddie didn’t even want to, because her insatiable draw to him wasn’t like that. She wanted more than that.
Less than that.
More.
She didn’t even know.
They reached her garden flat. “This is me.”
“Nice,” Sam said. “I pictured you in one of those yuppie blocks by the shops.”
“How else have you pictured me?”
Sam bit his lip. “Eddie, you don’t want to know.”
Chapter Seven
Inviting Sam in for coffee was almost laughable, though the glint in his eye as he stepped over the threshold was anything but funny. He glanced around, then settled his dark gaze on Eddie. “Flatmate?”
“Yes, but she stays with her girlfriends at weekends.”
“Girlfriends, eh? Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Shame.”
“Is it?”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe not.”
Eddie’s breath caught in her chest. She backed into the flat’s small kitchen space, biting her lip as Sam tracked her every step until they mirrored their position from the café kitchen—her back against the counter, caged in his arms, enthralled by the heat of his lean, hard body.
And God, what heat. Eddie felt it everywhere—every facet and nerve. And she craved more…much more. “Sam—”
“What?” he demanded, though his tone wasn’t unkind. “You want to pick up where we left off?”
“Yes. Kiss me. Sam. Please.”
For a heart-stopping moment, she feared he would refuse. That she’d blink and his heated snarl would morph into the sneer that she knew so well. But the sneer never came, and instead her world was blown apart by his crushing and consuming kiss.
He crashed his lips onto hers, kissing her with his whole body, pushing her back into the counter, the rough denim of his jeans scraping her skin. She gasped, and Sam lifted her off her feet and up on to the kitchen counter, forcing his way between her legs.
“Oh!” Eddie arched her back, pressing her body against him, and her legs widened so she could wrap them around his waist, drawing him in, as his lips moved to her neck, sucking.
Sam bit down on Eddie’s tender flesh. She moaned and shoved her hands into his dark hair. “I want—I want—”
“What?” he whispered. “What do you want from me?”
Eddie didn’t know, she could only feel—feel his rough hands roaming her body, his teeth at her throat, and the hardness in his jeans pressing where she needed it most.
She had never been so turned on, so wet. Every part of her tingled—her skin, her nipples, and between her legs. Her breasts, craving the heat of Sam’s touch, begged to be free.
Desperate, she pulled back slightly and yanked her jumper over her head. Beneath, she wore black lace that shaped and lifted her breasts. Sam smirked and then buried his face between them, pulling the fabric back with his teeth, until he found her left nipple. He took it in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Eddie cried out and threw her head back. “Oh God…yes.”
More wet warmth pooled between her legs and she tightened her grip on Sam, frantic with a need for friction that even in her dirtiest fantasies she’d never imagined.
Perhaps sensing that she was fast approaching a precipice they couldn’t come back from, Sam paused in his beautiful assault on her breasts. “Do you want this, Eddie? Do you want me?”
“I—God, I want…please don’t stop.”
“Stop what, Eddie? What do you want?”
Want. The repetition of the word fought through the haze of lust and desire, and for a fleeting moment, Eddie considered the question, and only one answer was forthcoming. She opened her legs wider and took Sam’s hand, guiding him under her skirt and to her silk knickers. “I want you…and I want to come. Now. Please, Sam…please make me come.”
She’d never spoken so brazenly. Never wanted to. But the need to feel Sam inside her was overwhelming. And Sam heard her plea. He pushed her knickers aside and found his mark as though he’d touched her this way a thousand times over. His probing fingers slipped inside her, and his thumb brushed the bundle of nerves that made her blood sing. She cried out again, her body convulsing with jolts of pleasure, and a whisper of fear ghosted through her mind. He’s doing this with his fingers and I can hardly stand it. The thought of what he could do with his cock—
No. Eddie couldn’t contemplate it as she writhed at Sam’s mercy, the sensation of slowly…wonderfully, falling apart already too much to bear.
But then, as she wavered on the cusp of a crashing orgasm, Sam withdrew his fingers and straightened up. Stunned, Eddie stared at him, her jaw slack, her eyes unblinking. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.
The fear was real and strong, and panic threatened the overheated bubble she’d cocooned herself in with Sam’s devilish touch. “Sam—”
“Are you on the pill?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s your bedroom?”
Eddie inclined her head to the left, and in a heartbeat found herself whisked off the kitchen counter and down the hall.
Sam kicked her bedroom door open and deposited her on the bed, dropping to his knees and then covering her with his body. His rough kiss returned. Eddie arched up into it, seeking friction, and skin—Sam’s skin. I need to touch him.
She clawed feverishly at his clothes, his T-shirt first, and then the heavy buckle on his belt as he unclipped her bra and tossed it over his shoulder. Her breasts were finally free, and they dropped, heavy and full, into Sam’s waiting hands. He squeezed them gently, and brushed his thumbs over her nipples in much the same way he had her clit in the kitchen.
And with his cock digging into her groin, the effect was only magnified. Eddie gasped shakily and bit down on her bottom lip to contain a louder exclamation. Her hands roamed Sam’s broad back, and she lost herself in his smooth inked skin in an effort to retain an ounce of composure.
But she failed, spectacularly, as Sam set to work stripping her of her remaining clothes. Her skirt disappeared, and then her underwear, and then his fingers were suddenly back where they’d been in the kitchen—probing, searching, and teasing shudders and sounds from her that seemed to belong to someone else.
She raised her hips and rode his fingers, chasing the breaking sensation she’d had a taste of before—
Sam pulled his fingers back—again. Eddie growled in frustration. “Don’t stop. I swear to God—”
“I’m not stopping.” Sam rose up on his knees and finished what Eddie had started with his jeans. “You wanna come, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good, ’cause I’m going to fuck you, Eddie, and you’re gonna come on my dick.”
He stood and shoved his jeans down his legs, kicking them away as his rigid cock sprang free. Eddie’s mouth watered. She’d only blown Ian a couple of times, and had never been sober enough to truly remember it.
And she’d never been so desperate to taste him as she was to taste Sam.
She sat up and crawled on her knees to where Sam stood. His dick was so tantalisingly close to her mouth, but he shook his head. “Nah, Eddie. Not tonight. You wanted to come, remember? Now turn around.”
Eddie shivered, but every bone in her body was compelled to obey. She turned on her knees, and the heat of Sam’s palm hit her back a second later, pushing her forwards so her chest hit the bed.
And then his cock brushed the wetness between her legs, and she cried out as shocks of pleasure rattled through her. Oh God, he’s going to fuck me.
The fear returned, but it was tempered by a primal desire she’d never felt before. Ian and a few teenage disasters had been the only men she’d ever slept with, and the vague enjoyment she’d found with them had barely scratched the surface.
And Sam wasn’t scratching, he was demanding—dominating—sure and strong as he eased inside her, gently at first, but then harder, much harder, as he pulled out and s
lammed back in again. “I’m going to fuck you, Eddie. Only your word will get me to stop.”
She wasn’t going to ask him to stop. God, no. His cock felt so right inside her, rigid and throbbing—pulsing. It fit like a glove, and every stroke of it brought her to life as Sam gripped her hips and pounded into her, hard and rough, but with a rhythm that was almost graceful—melodic.
A coil of pressure built in Eddie’s belly, winding tight. She cried out with every thrust of Sam’s dick inside, every dig, every scrape. And his bruising grip on her hips sent the waves of heat off the stratosphere. Oh God, oh God, I can’t handle this.
Her legs collapsed. Sam fell with her and crawled onto the bed, covering her body with his own. The weight of him was briefly comforting, but then he started to fuck her again, brutally digging his cock in and out of her. She gasped and a jolt of pleasure hit her. Sweat trickled down her face, her back, and melded her and Sam together as he thrust inside her.
Blinded by the inferno building deep in her belly, Eddie clawed desperately at the sheets, fisting and twisting. And then Sam groaned, a ragged, primal sound that pushed her over the edge, and every nerve in her body exploded. “Oh!”
Her vision darkened and her mouth fell open, fixed in a silent scream. The pleasure was blinding, consuming, and her body spasmed and juddered like she’d been shocked from the inside out. Because she had, and as Sam stiffened and groaned again behind her, and an extra jolt of heat pulsed where they were joined, Eddie flew…flew so high she was sure she’d never come down.
But she did come down, whimpering as aftershocks spread through her and Sam continued to fuck her with sharp, jolting thrusts. “Oh fuck.”
Sam chuckled, though it came out as more of a grunt as he finally stopped screwing her. “That what you wanted?”
“Yes.” Eddie’s words were muffled by the bed covers mashed into her face, but with Sam still inside her, nothing on earth could’ve made her move. She pushed back on him, absorbing the last flutters of the first real orgasm she’d ever had. “God, yes.”
“Me too.” Sam’s lips were at her ear. “You’re annoying, but I wanted to fuck you from the moment I saw you.”
It was so close to the exact sentiment running though Eddie’s hazy mind that she couldn’t be offended, and so she said nothing, only whimpered as Sam withdrew from her and shifted onto his back.
Eddie rolled over too and stared at the ceiling, her body still a live wire of jittering heat. She glanced over at Sam. It was late, and as he lay there with his eyes closed, more peaceful than she’d ever seen him, she wondered if she should ask him to stay—and what it would be like to wake up to him the following morning. Would she look into his eyes and see regret, or something more? Or worse, nothing…just a realisation that she’d just been a quick and willing fuck?
She had no idea, and her questions remained unanswered, because at some point, she drifted to sleep, and when she woke some time before dawn, she was alone. She opened her eyes to a cold, empty bed, with only the rumpled sheets to show Sam had been there at all.
Eddie woke for a second time around nine. She sat up with a jump, wondering what had disturbed her, and then the intercom buzzed, and her heart leapt. Sam? Perhaps he’d dashed out for breakfast, or coffee, or—
Does it matter?
Of course it bloody didn’t. Naked, Eddie sprang out of bed and grabbed the first item of clothing she saw, a long, slouchy jumper dress that thankfully looked great without a bra. She yanked it over her head and dashed to the front door, wrenching it open. “Where did you get to—”
Her words died on her lips. It wasn’t Sam, it was Ian, and his smooth, suave face was the last on earth that she wanted to see. “What are you doing here?”
Ian’s blinding smile didn’t waver. “I came to see you. We’re off to the races today and I thought you could tag along.”
“Tag along?”
“Yes. Come with us. You like horses, don’t you?”
“Not really.” Eddie folded her arms across her chest, suddenly aware of her protruding nipples. “And I’ve got lectures this afternoon, and rehearsals tonight.”
“So? You can miss one day, can’t you? Term’s nearly over after all.”
Eddie gritted her teeth. “I need to attend all rehearsals if I’ve got any chance of getting a spot in the first section. You know this. And I can’t afford to miss lectures if I’m going to apply for a hardship loan.”
“A what?” For the first time, Ian’s cocksure smile wavered. “What on earth do you need a loan for?”
“My dad’s bankrupt, remember? He’s not paying my way anymore.”
“Oh.” Ian tapped his foot. “So you can’t come to the races then?”
“No, I can’t!” Eddie snapped, and then, as Ian blinked, clearly taken aback by her raised voice, made a decision that she should’ve realised months ago. “Look, you’d better come in. I think there’s some things we need to talk about.”
“Talk about? Like what?”
“Like us, Ian. Just come inside, okay?”
Ian relented and stepped inside Eddie’s flat. She led him to the living room and parked him on the sofa while she made coffee with Martha’s fancy machine. In the kitchen, it was hard not to picture herself pressed up against the cabinets, her head thrown back and Sam’s fingers curling inside her. She shivered and bit her lip, heat flooding her cheeks. Sam’s absence felt like a punch to the chest, but the lingering sensation of him fucking her—owning her—was undeniable.
The beeping coffee machine brought her back to the present. Oh God, Ian. Why did he have to turn up today? But all the will in the world wouldn’t get rid of him, and the clarity of the decision she’d made at the front door struck her again. I have to do this.
And she wanted to do it. Resolved, she carried two bone china mugs of latte into the living room and set them on the coffee table. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Ian blinked. “What?”
“Us—” Eddie gestured between them. “It’s not working. I think we should end things.”
“End things.” Ian shook his head slightly, as if to convince himself he’d heard right. “You’re dumping me?”
“Not really. We were never official. And it’s not like you haven’t been seeing anyone else, is it?”
Ian flushed guiltily, but Eddie took no satisfaction in being right. After all, she was the one with Sam Nowak’s sweat still cooling on her sheets.
“Why now,” Ian asked, like he’d read her mind. “Have you met someone?”
“Not exactly,” Eddie hedged. “It’s just my life has changed a lot, and it’s going to keep changing. We don’t fit together—I’m not part of your world.”
“You’ve never tried to be. You hate my friends, and you belittle everything I do.”
It was Eddie’s turn to blink. “Excuse me?”
“You can’t deny it,” Ian said. “I’ve never worked out why you’ve stuck around so long. You don’t even seem to enjoy making love to me anymore.”
Making love. Jesus Christ. Eddie refrained from scoffing. “Ian, we weren’t making love, because we never loved each other. It was just fucking, and we weren’t very good at it.”
“Fucking?” Ian’s eyes widened. “Eddie, don’t be so coarse. There’s no need for language like that.”
“And there’s no need for you to scold me like I’m a naughty child. I’m twenty-two, Ian. I’m not some silly teenager.”
“I never said you were.” Ian’s tone turned sulky. “I just don’t get it. We look good together, everyone says so.”
Eddie fought the urge to compare Ian’s painstakingly gym-sculpted body with Sam’s natural, lean muscles. She failed, and heat swept through her again, but she fought that too. “Ian, looking good together isn’t enough. We have to feel something too, and I’m sorry, but I just…don’t.”
Ian reached for his coffee, and Eddie braced herself for a further round of negotiating, but it never came. Ian sipped
his latte, and then shrugged, his frown fading to the oblivious half grin he usually wore. “Fair enough. How about the races, though? I can spot you some cash if you want to have a flutter? Maybe you’ll win enough to avoid that pesky loan?”
Eddie groaned. The offer was sweet, but based on a reality that was no longer hers. She’d yet to be paid for her work at the café, but she couldn’t deny that it felt good to know whatever money she had in the bank from this point on had been earned with her own blood, sweat, and tears. “Ian, it’s over. I’d like us to be friends, but I don’t think we should see each other for a while.”
Ian shrugged. “Oh well, can’t blame a bloke for trying. I’ll miss making love to you, though, Eddie. It really was amazing, wasn’t it?”
It was easier to nod and smile, and drift off as Ian’s wittering washed over her, his voice—that she’d once found melodic and sweet—dulling to a low drone as her mind filled with images of Sam’s naked body. His coiled arms. The hard planes of his inked chest…and his cock, jutting out from his slim hips, rigid and proud. She imagined taking it in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, sucking. Warmth pooled between her legs and she crossed them, abruptly aware of her lack of underwear.
“Are you all right?” Ian asked suddenly. “You’ve gone all red.”
Eddie fanned herself. “Have I? Actually, Ian, I don’t feel too great today. Would you mind if we caught up another time?”
“Erm…okay.” Ian stood awkwardly, and Eddie realised that it was the first time she’d ever turned him away.
Fleetingly, she felt bad, but then she remembered all the mind-numbingly boring dates she’d endured, the nights she’d stayed at his place, the bad jokes, bad sex, and the terrible wine.
It wasn’t all his fault, though, was it? He never forced you to stay.
Of course he hadn’t, but that didn’t mean that she had to stay now. Or, rather, that Ian did.
Eddie hustled him to the door, hoping for a quick goodbye—and one with no touching. Unfortunately, Ian had other idea, clumsily taking her into his arms and planting his sloppiest kiss to date on her Sam-bruised lips.