His chest tightened, his body knowing what his mind was too afraid to entertain. This beautiful, enchanting, sassy, difficult girl was everything he’d ever wanted. He pushed off from the bottom, and his toes scraped against the layer of pebbles and silt as they sliced through the water’s smooth surface, her body wrapped tightly around his.
She took a breath then brushed the hair from his eyes. “What did I tell you? We’ve got the entire place to ourselves.”
A beat passed, and he rubbed slow, wet circles on her back. “You get a fall break, don’t you, Z?”
She nodded.
He tightened his hold. “Do you think maybe you’d want to visit me?”
Her eyes went wide. “In New Zealand?”
Shit! What was he doing? They’d agreed to be together for these few, precious days, and now he was throwing a giant wrench into everything. “Sorry, I—”
She stopped him with a kiss. A kiss so sweet and so delicate, it made him want to cry. Him. Sam Sinclair. Nearly six foot five and two hundred and fifty pounds, and all it took to bring him to his knees was this wisp of a woman.
She pulled back a fraction. “I’d like that,” she answered, emotion lacing her words.
His pulse quickened. “You would?”
She threaded her fingers into his wet hair and arched into him. “You know what they say.”
“What’s that?”
She smiled and moved her hips in tiny circles, teasing him. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
He released a tight breath. The slide of her body made him as hard as steel. “What about the petite ones?” he bit out. “The ones with sparkling gray eyes and a heart like no other?”
She blinked, and he couldn’t tell if it was just a drop of lake water or a tear trailing down her cheek. She tightened her grip. “They fall hard, too.”
Time stretched between them. He’d never been so crazy for a woman. It didn’t matter that she was Ben’s little sister. She was Zoe. His Zoe. And she wasn’t a little girl anymore.
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked, those beautiful eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
He leaned in and captured her mouth. She parted her lips, and he was home. The water surrounded them in a dark, wet cocoon as he shifted her body and eased his hand into her panties. He teased past her delicate folds, and she bucked against him.
“I want you, Sam. I want to feel you.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Zoe, we don’t have protection.”
“I’m on the pill.”
White-hot lust surged through his body. It had been at least a month and a half, maybe even longer since he’d been with Kara—and they always used condoms. Thank fuck, he’d insisted on that. And when he knew he needed to break it off, he got tested. He was clean.
“Z, are you sure?”
She popped the clasp on her bra and wiggled out of the lacy undergarment. She had the most mouthwatering breasts—but seeing them wet, nipples hardened into tight pearls was pure perfection.
He pulled down his boxers, and they disappeared in the dark water. “You’re playing with fire, Zoe.”
She licked her lips. “You wouldn’t expect any less from me, would you?”
A switch flipped inside of him. He pushed aside the satin strip of her G-string and thrust inside her in one clean blow. The warmth of the water, her wet, sexy-as-fuck breasts pressed against his chest, and her sweet center gripping his throbbing cock had his senses on overdrive. He guided her body up and down his shaft. Her soft moans mingled with the rhythmic splashes of water as the nightscape of sound muffled their lovemaking.
He worked his hand between them and massaged her sensitive bud. The slick slide of their bodies a turn on like he’d never known.
“Sam…I’m so…yes!”
Everything tightened inside him. Fucking her bare, skin to skin, it was almost too much. Almost. He gritted his teeth, holding back the wave of pleasure begging to crash through him and rip him into a thousand tiny pieces.
Her nails tore into his back, and she called out, bucking and swaying. It was the final straw, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hand clamped hard around her ass, steadying her petite frame as he pumped and came inside her, muscles flexing, body tensing. All rational thought emptied from his mind. His frenzied pace and his hunger for her pleasure all collided in a carnal crash of hot kisses and breathy gasps.
She rested her head on his shoulder, and the rise and fall of her chest slowed.
“Zoe Christine Stein,” he whispered, holding her close.
“Have I been naughty?” she asked in a dreamy, teasing tone. “Whenever someone invokes my middle name, it’s never a good sign.”
He ran his hand up and down the length of her spine. “You are the best kind of naughty.”
She pulled back and met his gaze. From the look in her eye, she was ready to throw a real whopper of a comeback at him, but then, her eyes went wide, and she froze.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Something just touched my leg. Oh my god, Sam! There it is again!”
He held her close just as a slim, slithering form glided past them.
Oh, shit!
Zoe wasn’t scared of much. As a kid, she’d be the first to stand up to a bully. It didn’t matter how big or how mean, she’d ball her little hands into fists and be ready to throw down. But the first time they’d come upon a snake, she’d jumped into his arms and climbed all the way up to his shoulders. It took her brother damn near an hour to pry her off.
Clearly, things hadn’t changed.
Chest heaving, she clawed up his body.
“Zoe, it’s okay,” he soothed, moving into shallow waters. “It’s probably just a northern water snake or a Graham’s crayfish snake.”
“Sam, it’s going to bite me! It’s going to bite me, and it’s going to eat me, and I’m going to be trapped inside its scaly body.”
“Are you a crayfish or a frog?” he asked.
“Am I a what?” she shrieked.
“A crayfish or frog?” he repeated calmly.
“I’m a person. But I’m a tiny person!”
She’d gone white with fear, and he could feel the rapid beat of her heart. “Zoe, Kansas water snakes don’t eat people, not even tiny people. They prefer fish and frogs. Stuff that lives in the water. Stuff that’s way smaller than you.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, death grip in place.
“Z, we’re not even in the water anymore.”
She maintained her hold and looked around. “Sweet wedgie nugget pie, I thought I was a goner.”
He shook his head, dipped down to retrieve the blanket, and wrapped it around their wet bodies. He tucked a few wet strands of hair behind her ear. “Are you okay?”
She rested her head on his shoulder, released a shaky breath, and nodded.
He smoothed another strand. “Have we hit the threshold for Zoe and Sam crazy?”
She giggled, her breath sweet and warm against his chin. “Mission accomplished.”
“Can I set you down? We should probably get dressed.”
He left her with the blanket and pulled on his cargo shorts. He found his shirt and her clothes and brought them to her.
She shimmied into her skirt and top then gazed out into the water. “I hope that was a lady water snake.”
“Why?” he asked, taking her hand.
“Maybe she’ll get some use out of my bra.”
He gazed down at her shirt. Water marks outlined her unrestrained breasts, and his cock hardened. He was ready for round two. “Do you want me to try and find it?”
“You’d go deep diving for my bra in Lake Boley?” she asked with a sly grin.
“I protected you from a snake. A quest to find your missing brassiere isn’t such a stretch.”
She took a step back and squared her shoulders. “Two things.”
Here we go! This was everything he loved about her.
He nodded solemnly. “
Okay, lay it on me.”
“Never say brassiere again,” she deadpanned.
A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Got it. And the second.”
Her gaze softened. “Did you mean what you said about New Zealand?”
He closed the distance between them. “Every word.”
She held his gaze, those beautiful eyes owning him. “Good.”
He held out his hand, and she took it. They walked, shrouded in darkness, the buzz of cicadas and the low call of the bullfrogs at the water’s edge filling the space between them. The space where he wanted to spill his guts—where he wanted to tell her that she shined brighter than any star and that he’d gladly bask in her light for all eternity.
They got to his truck, and he opened the passenger side door for her, but she didn’t get in. Instead, she leaned against the side of the old Ford. “You were very sweet to indulge my little breaking and entering escapade.” A naughty twinkle glittered in her eyes. “I’m not all that tired. Any ideas of what we can do when we get home?”
A bolt of lust shot straight to his cock. “Oh, I did think of something during bingo that might be fun.”
She nodded. “I bet I know what it is. Something to do with the number… sixty-seven?”
He shook his head. Christ! She was the best kind of tease.
She took a step closer. “Sixty-eight?”
“You’re warmer.”
She hopped into his truck, those naughty, sparkling eyes owning his ass. “I guess you’ll just have to show me when we get back to my place.”
Sam blinked. It was pitch black, but the petite body cuddled in close told him he was exactly where he wanted to be. He shifted to his side and ran his hand down the length of Zoe’s naked body. She hummed softly in her sleep, and he smiled like the happiest man on earth because he was.
A loud thump from outside caught his attention. He held his breath and listened.
Thunk!
And then again.
Thunk!
Whatever it was, it was close.
He remained still until the shrill, muffled call of his name sent a tremor down his spine.
Kara.
Kara was outside Zoe’s house.
In the space of a breath, all the warm, fuzzy elation of sharing a bed with Zoe disappeared. He broke out into a cold sweat and swallowed hard as anxiety and shame ripped through him in jagged little tears.
Jesus! He had to get Kara out of here. Who knows what crazy shit she’d say to Zoe.
And Zoe…he couldn’t have her thinking she was just some rebound from a recent breakup. She had to know what she meant to him, right? He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Kara called out again. He edged out of bed, careful not to wake Zoe. He found his clothes, dressed, and padded gently down the stairs. He gazed through the front window. There she was, kicking his truck, mascara streaked down her cheeks.
He took a breath and opened the front door.
Kara glared at him. “You’re lucky I found you!”
He glanced up at Zoe’s bedroom window and lowered his voice. “Kara, what are you doing here? Why are you here? It’s over. We broke up, remember?”
She shook her head. “You’re lucky Conrad didn’t find you. He was livid when I told him.”
He stared at her and tried to piece out what was going on. “Conrad, your older brother?”
She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Yes, my brother! Who else?”
“Why would your brother be looking for me? How did you even find me?”
“Your address book,” she answered, simply. “I copied all the addresses. You know, so I’d be able to meet all your friends. This is Ben Fisher’s house.”
Sam ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “Kara, that’s fucking crazy.”
“Crazy,” she echoed. “I don’t see what’s so crazy about wanting to know where the friends and family of the father of my unborn child live. I’m just glad I found you first. Conrad wanted to kick your ass for getting me pregnant and then dumping me.”
He sucked in a breath, and everything stopped.
Kara…pregnant? She couldn’t be.
“Kara,” he began, balling his hands into fists and willing them not to shake. “You can’t be pregnant. We used protection every time.”
She shook her head, a rapid twitching movement as if she were trying to ward off the truth. “No, it’s yours, Sam. Something must have happened because I am pregnant. And it has to be yours.”
“Why didn’t you say something when we spoke at the gardens?”
“I took a test when I got home. I didn’t know how to get ahold of you. You weren’t at your friend’s place by school. I figured you were still in Langley Park.”
Every muscle in his body clenched. His gut churned. His mouth grew dry. He’d worked out a deal with a friend from college to sleep on his couch for the few weeks he was around before heading abroad again. It was easier than going home and dealing with his father. And he could always crash at his aunt and uncle’s place if he needed a place to stay in town.
He released a tight breath. Of course, she knew everything. But this…this was insane.
He glanced at Zoe’s window. The shade was still drawn.
How could this be happening?
“What happens now?” he asked, the words tasting of dust and regret.
She reached up and stroked his cheek. “My father and Conrad agree that there’s only one thing you can do.”
He glanced at Zoe’s window and wanted to weep. What his heart wanted didn’t matter anymore. This was his responsibility. “I’ll support you. I’ll do anything for the…”
He couldn’t say the word.
A deranged smile stretched across her lips. “Of course, you will. That’s why you’re going to marry me today.”
6
Zoe took a long sip of whiskey from a flask she’d found buried deep in her parents’ liquor cabinet and willed herself to smile at her best friend, Em MacCaslin.
But on the inside, she was dying.
Three days.
Sam hadn’t tried to call or see her for three days.
She’d woken up alone in her empty house. The only reminder of him was a lone auburn strand of hair on her pillow, and whispers of his clean, peppermint scent on her sheets. In a stupid, crazy attempt to prove the existence of their time together, she’d gone back to the botanic gardens and tried to find the damn pizza box. She needed something—besides the wrenching pain of her heart breaking into a million pieces—to tell her those precious hours with Sam were real.
But the pizza box was gone, and with it, the breathtakingly beautiful happiness she’d only barely begun to know.
Somewhere in the haze of the last few days, her parents had called. Ben was engaged to Sara, and they were all having a lovely time in Arizona. She’d congratulated her brother and assured her mother she was fine at home alone in Langley Park. But she wasn’t fine. She wasn’t even close to fine. Sam’s vanishing act had left her empty and hollowed out. She’d volunteered at the hospital, but her teasing tone and silly barbs were all an act—tomfoolery on autopilot.
She was all alone in this. Who was she supposed to talk to? Michael, Sam’s cousin? Gabe, his brother? While she had many acquaintances, she didn’t have all that many close friends. As a high school reporter, she knew everyone, and she was at all the events. But she was always on the outside looking in. Always the funny one. Always the riot. Always the girl with a wry smile and a sharp tongue. Somehow, she’d become Langley Park’s court jester. And who would ever imagine a jester could be heartbroken. No, she didn’t get that luxury.
She couldn’t even confide in her best friend. Em never mentioned boys—not even a silly celebrity crush. Her life, her love was music. She’d never understand what had happened with Sam, and how, while they were only together for two days, those two days changed everything. They rewrote her history. And she thought, was about to be the beginning of not just he
r story but their story.
Sam had given her everything she’d wanted. He’d seen all of her, not just a funny girl but the woman who was more than just a person delivering a punchline. She’d opened herself to him. She’d pulled back that sassy exterior and showed him her vulnerable side.
Damn him!
She took another sip of the whiskey. Maybe Sam had always seen her as Ben’s little sister. Maybe he regretted their time together so deeply, he couldn’t even stand to be near her. Her every insecurity doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled like a virus spreading through her brain, clouding the memories of their time together.
He’d asked her to visit him in New Zealand. Why? She would have bet her life that he was falling for her. But she’d committed journalism’s cardinal sin. She’d lost perspective. She’d thrown her judgment out the window the moment his lips touched hers.
“Where the heck are we?” Em asked, breaking into her thoughts.
You’re still in Kansas, Dorothy, but I’m in hell, she wanted to answer but held her tongue. She gestured to the flask. “Take another swig, Em.”
Tonight was the last gathering at Sadie’s Hollow before everyone left for college. A little over an hour’s drive south of Langley Park in the long-forgotten town of Lyleville, Kansas, in Garrett County, Sadie’s Hollow had been the secluded place high school kids went to party for as long as she could remember, and tonight, she’d brought Em.
It was the first time she’d seen her friend since she’d gotten back into town. As a world-renowned violinist, Em’s schedule had been packed, performing at Kansas City galas and with the symphony. This was her one night of freedom, and they’d concocted a plan—well, she’d concocted the plan—to tell her friend’s strict father that they were having a sleepover at her house. He’d never permit his daughter to get hammered in an out-of-the-way field in the middle of nowhere. And while Em was a masterful musician, she had nothing in the way of teenage street smarts. Performing with symphonies and orchestras all over the world, she’d hardly spent time with kids her age and had remained completely sheltered. In fact, there was a good chance that the whiskey they were drinking tonight was her first taste of alcohol.
The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5) Page 111