Mariella shimmied out of her skirt and her underwear, and he let out a slow whistle. The wedge of hair between her legs was black and thick and wiry, just the way he liked it.
He took her hand and tugged her forward until she collapsed on him, straddling his abdomen once more.
She leaned back against his raised knees and Sam took his time exploring between her thighs. His fingers slipped easily through her silky moistness, until she threw her head back and moaned so deeply it made him tremble.
After retrieving a condom from his jeans and slipping it on, he laid her onto her back. Eyes glazed over, she reached for him hungrily. He gripped her pubic hair lightly and spread her wet flesh with his fingers, tickling her softness.
Mariella tried to touch herself, but he batted her hand away. So biting her lower lip, she spread her legs wider, teasing him with an open view. Licking his lips, he got in between her and leaned back on his haunches. She was glorious. He grabbed her hips and bent his head, wanting to taste her so badly, but knew he wouldn’t be able to contain his need for her.
With a groan, Sam lurched over her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and penetrated her. He gritted his teeth and almost came instantly. She was as tight as a virgin, and her internal muscles locked onto his throbbing penis, boosting his pleasure.
As he moved inside her, Mariella’s mouth pursed with pleasure and she dug her heels into the blanket. He caught one of her nipples between his lips and sucked slowly, leisurely, not willing to let go of one hardened tip for the other, even though he was sure it was just as tasty.
Before long he weakened and began to massage her other breast. She cried out as he propelled himself inside her deeper, but just as slowly, so she could feel each and every inch of him.
She thrashed her head so he caught it gently between his hands, her words unintelligible as she bucked her hips to meet his, daring him to thrust even deeper.
Releasing her hard, soaking-wet nipple, he laid his full weight upon her. Her breasts rubbed against him as they moved together. After a while he slowed down and stroked the hair away from her face. Tenderly, he kissed her neck, not quite believing he was here with this beautiful woman, who was about to be totally his.
She massaged the small of his back with the heel of her palm, a gesture that was unusual, but one he found incredibly erotic. Her feet slid up and down the backs of his legs in rhythm with his movements. With her head sandwiched lightly between his forearms, she whispered his name with every single plunge, as if she was claiming him.
Sam covered her mouth with his lips and increased his speed. Flesh slapped against flesh, the sound mixing with the waves crashing against the shore. It was a sound only for them, and he moved even faster, loving the music they were making.
Suddenly, he tore his lips away. His eyes roamed the starless sky.
Nearly overcome by the white-hot pleasure searing them both, his body stilled and he wasn’t sure he could go on. He gulped in the salt-scented air, but it wasn’t enough.
He wanted her.
She leaned up and kissed his chin, and he stared down at her, marveling that she was so beautifully his. He wanted to freeze his place deep inside her as he desperately tried to hold on to the last of his senses.
“Don’t move, Mariella,” he commanded. “I’m so close.”
A bead of his sweat dropped down and trickled between her breasts. Without thinking, he licked it away and the tenuous hold he’d had disappeared.
“Me, too, Sam.”
Her voice was husky. With the sexy way she lifted her hips, encouraging him to go on, he was willing to risk everything for her.
Deeper and deeper, he thrust himself into her until there seemed to be no end to the bold sensuality of her hands. Her nails sank into his skin, but he felt no pain, only that she needed him as much as he needed her. Faster and faster he moved until she began to writhe with torrid wails of pleasure he knew he would never forget.
Hot tears came to his eyes. With a loud gasp, he stilled and let go in spurts of heat. There was no time to consider the shock of his emotions, because as he cradled Mariella’s face between his palms, he discovered she was crying, too.
Chapter 8
Mariella drove into the parking lot at the back of Relics and Rarities and pulled next to Sam’s SUV. The large vehicle towered over her small hatchback, giving her the privacy she needed to do some last-minute primping.
Tonight was the first time she would be visiting Sam’s apartment. They’d avoided meeting there because they didn’t want to attract the attention of Mr. Wexler. But Sam had texted her earlier that the coast was clear, so they made a date.
She pulled out her compact, checked her reflection and liked what she saw there.
The past four weeks were some of the happiest ones in her entire life. Her feelings for Sam were evident in the glow of her cheeks and the spark in her eyes. He’d opened doors of her sexuality that had her body craving him day and night. More important, he’d opened her heart.
I’m in love.
But within her joy, sadness lurked.
Waiting to see him was the hardest part.
It seemed like she was always waiting.
Tonight was the last time she would see him alone for a few weeks. He planned on traveling back to London for the Christmas holiday.
A lump rose in her throat. He hadn’t even left and she already missed him. Deep down, she admitted it was hard to accept her feelings for Sam because it meant one day soon, she would have to let him go.
“I’m being selfish,” she said before closing her compact and tossing it back in her bag.
It was the truth, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted Sam to stay in Bay Point and with her forever. And she bet if she asked every one of his team members, they would agree.
The Titans were having their best season in years. They’d won every game, except the home opener. But win or lose, each one was like a nail in her heart because as soon as the season was over, Sam would leave Bay Point and return to England permanently.
After every game she wanted to rush from the bleachers into his arms and give him a kiss of congratulations, but she had to wait until she could sneak away and see him.
Mariella dealt with the separation as best she could, and always sat in the same place on the bleachers so she’d be easy to pick out in the crowd.
He’d give her a nod and a slow tilt of a smile he’d saved just for her. The heat of his gaze would reach all the way up to the stands. When he turned back to the field, she could hardly breathe, let alone concentrate on the game.
Did he draw strength from those moments? She did, and knowing he wanted her made the waiting worth it.
With Sam in her life, she had even more confidence that she could do anything, be anything. Though he couldn’t be her partner in public, she claimed him as her partner in her heart.
They never really talked about his eventual departure and she wondered why. Keeping quiet wouldn’t make the truth go away. Maybe he was just as anxious about it as she.
Keeping their relationship a secret was difficult, too. She’d dreamed about making love under her Christmas tree and in her own bedroom, but that was impossible. They’d been back to the cove a few times, but stopped for fear of getting caught.
On date nights she told Josh she had a PTA meeting or was having dinner with friends. He would barely look up from his homework or computer. Lately, instead of gaming, he spent his time finalizing his college applications. He seemed glad to have some time to himself, but it didn’t make lying to her son any easier.
Still, Mariella refused to feel guilty.
Every second spent with Sam was precious. Their time together was short, only a few more months, and she wanted to treasure every second of it.
They talked and texted as often as they could. Her day job and freelance grant-writing projects ke
pt her busy enough so she wouldn’t constantly obsess about him. In the past few weeks, she’d had several more meetings with Leslie and other members of the PTA regarding the new turf for the field. Several fund-raisers were being planned throughout the school year to raise monies not covered by the grant.
The danger of a damaged soccer field brought Josh’s injury to her mind, as well as Sam’s, and she knew she had to bring that project to a close as quickly as possible. She didn’t want either of them to get reinjured.
Even as they got closer, Sam would never talk about how his injury happened. All he would say was he was still rehabbing, so she stopped asking. His knee was the only place on his body he didn’t allow her to touch or kiss.
In general, he kept the details about his life in England to himself. One night he’d told her he found it difficult to trust women, based on his celebrity status and failed relationships. He asked for patience...and time.
Mariella choked out a harsh laugh. She got out her brush and stroked it quickly through her hair. Didn’t he realize they didn’t have any time? Maybe in his mind, their relationship was nothing more than a short-term fantasy.
A text from Sam popped up on her phone.
What are you waiting for?
She glanced up and saw him waving at her from his kitchen window. Smiling, she waved back, hurried out of the car and up the stairs.
He opened the door right away. “Something wrong with my outfit?”
Her eyes widened at the innocent smile on his face, which would be seared in her mind forever, not to mention his attire.
She burst out laughing and walked inside. After kicking the door closed behind her, she tossed her bag on the couch.
“You’re wearing an apron?”
And it was one of the gaudiest ones she’d ever seen. Blueberries and cherries stuck in the middle of pine boughs splashed on a hot pink background, topped off with a white lace ruffled hem.
“I told you I was cooking tonight,” he replied without batting an eye to her outburst.
Mariella molded her palms to his heavily muscled chest. “Where’d you get it?”
He winked and turned around. “Beach Bottom Gift Shop, where else?”
She gasped at the sight of his bare buttocks. Was the man trying to drive her into a frenzy?
“I should have known,” Mariella groaned.
With a wicked grin, she lifted the hem up playfully for a peek. “I don’t think it’s meant to be worn like this.”
“A culinary artiste like moi can’t be distracted by clothes,” he blustered.
His fake French accent sounded even funnier cloaked behind his British one.
“I must be free to move around.”
“And free to love,” she laughed, looping her arms around his neck. The slip of the L-word wasn’t intentional, but she left it there to see what he would do.
Sam raised a brow. “Love?”
She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest as he paused a beat to gaze into her eyes.
“But dinner is almost ready,” he protested mildly. “I made Jambalaya Gumbo.”
Mariella peeked around Sam’s shoulder. From where she was standing in the living room, she could see the kitchen, and the bedroom beyond.
She nestled her head against his chest and inhaled his masculine scent. The only thing she was hungry for was him.
“The food smells good, but you smell better. How about we cook up something ourselves? Then I can really show you how much I appreciate your artistry.”
He locked the door, and then licked the deep vee of her neckline.
“Do you like my dress? It’s black lace on top, black leather on the bottom. I bought it special for you.”
Sam slipped his hands under her dress. “I do, but I’d rather see it on the floor.”
His name caught in her throat as he suddenly cupped her bare ass. She had some surprises, too.
“Hmm,” he said in a sexy tone. “Great minds think alike.”
She squirmed with delight as he alternately squeezed and massaged her bare curves. Under the apron, his manhood poked and rolled against the leather. She resisted the urge to grab onto it and never let go.
“Then what are we waiting for?”
Sam ridged his teeth against the most sensitive spot on her neck until she moaned. Suddenly, he lifted her up and she clamped her legs around his hips. His penis landed between her legs, hot and long and throbbing.
He walked them both into the kitchen, and after pausing to turn off the stove, headed straight into the bedroom.
The wrought iron bed appeared to be an antique, and the room was so small it was wedged against the single window. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from the kitchen.
He tossed her down on the bed and slipped off her heels. The springs squeaked noisily as he laid his warm body on hers.
She folded her arms around his waist and started to untie his apron. “Let me help you take this silly thing off.”
He reached behind and brought her arms to rest above her head, pinning them together with his one hand.
“No. This first,” he whispered.
Mariella stiffened as his hot tongue dove into her mouth. Though he’d caught her by surprise with his need, soon her toes curled into the thin blanket and she was writhing beneath him.
She spread her legs, planted her heels into the blanket and dueled back, determined to prove she wanted him more. Her fingers grabbed onto the rails of the bed, wrists still bound by one of his hands.
It was the taste of him she couldn’t get enough of and she stroked her tongue inside his mouth until they were both out of breath.
Sam released her wrists and stood. He lit two votive candles on the night table.
Mariella turned her face and stared, eyes wide, her fingers clinging loosely to the bed rails. His hard-on was as huge as the grin on his face.
She still had her dress on, but wished she didn’t. She wanted him immediately.
“Ready to do the honors?”
He put his hands behind his head and gave a little shimmy, but his penis barely moved under the tent of his outlandish apron.
Mariella covered her face and laughed out loud at his antics. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She sat up and moved slowly to the edge of the bed. Facing Sam, she parted her legs and put her feet on the worn wooden floor.
He’d joined in her laughter, but when he stared into her eyes, he knew things were about to get serious.
“Come here,” she instructed.
Licking her lips, she felt exposed and raunchy as he moved toward her. The blanket felt cool and rough on her bare privates.
When he was mere inches from her face, she raised a hand and he stopped. She felt herself go wet at the pleasure waiting for her just beneath the whimsical cotton.
With a tip of one finger, she lifted the fabric, peeked underneath and wriggled slowly on the bed in anticipation.
He was harder than she’d ever seen. A long, dark slab of flesh with a hint of pink at the top. And it was all hers.
As if drawing aside a curtain, Mariella used the back of her hand to push the apron aside and over him. She watched, in fascination, a tiny drop of liquid emerge, glistening at the tip.
“Oh, my,” she cooed. “Somebody’s hungry.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as she ran her hands up and down his back, taking her time to feel the corded muscles underneath.
“Starved,” he rasped. “Take this damn thing off me.”
Sam put one knee on the bed, and the mattress sank there with his weight. The one that was injured he put between her legs.
His hairy legs tickled her, and holding back a grin, she covered him up again.
“Not so fast.”
Sam lifted his chin and groaned in frustr
ation until she ducked her head under the apron. His deep sigh matched hers as she inhaled his clean, musky scent.
Under the cloak of the apron, she’d created a hot and secret place to pleasure him. His penis throbbed against her cheek as she slowly slid it against her flesh. He grunted as she sucked in his engorged length.
She grabbed onto his ass for leverage, closed her eyes and swirled her tongue around him. Once, and then a few times more.
His muscles tensed and he uncovered her head. The candles flickered, but didn’t go out as he untied and threw the apron on the floor.
“I want to watch you. Loving me.”
Sam’s words rocked her to the core, but she could only nod. When she did, he pushed himself into her mouth a little deeper. Moaning, she accepted him and he threaded his hands into her hair.
“Baby,” he breathed, elongating the word.
She tilted her eyes up and knew she had Sam under her complete control.
As she sucked and licked him, taking her time, the curtains billowed out. The briny scent of the Pacific filled the room, reminding her of Coquina Cove, where their love affair had started.
And she never wanted it to end.
He was heavy in her mouth, and her heart was thick with emotion as she tantalized him. Running her tongue and lips along his darkly veined flesh meant she was branding him as her own, even if he didn’t realize it.
Mouth full with him, Mariella tentatively wriggled against his knee. She wanted to burst when her open, wet flesh made contact with a tight ridge of scars. Sam licked his lips in approval as she pleasured herself, too.
He also didn’t mind when she cupped his testicles in one hand, gently manipulating them. It was the first time she’d done that, and he bucked forth, almost choking her.
She opened her mouth so she wouldn’t hurt him, and he withdrew halfway before she pounced on him again.
With her every stroke, she could feel him restraining himself like a caged tiger. Her mouth felt bruised and wonderful, her nose heady with the scent of his raw desire.
“Mariella,” he groaned when she took him between her lips again.
The urgency, the speed, the depth.
Winning Her Holiday Love Page 12