Breaking Away (41 page)

He ran his hands beneath her t-shirt, unfastened her bra and found her breasts. In the few weeks since they’d touched one another, he’d relived those moments, remembering the texture of her skin, the velvety softness of her nipples, the slender shape of her.

Though he’d held her, kissed her, and tempted her in every way he could, they hadn’t repeated the touching. He lifted the t-shirt and she wiggled free of it and allowed her bra to slide down her arms.

He was hungry for the sight of her. He sat up to trace the delicate line of her collarbone, the hollow between her breasts, with his fingertips, then his lips. He was fascinated by the sweet curve where her breasts and ribcage came together, the way her nipples tilted upward begging him to take them into his mouth.

He tasted one then the other, his tongue feathering the underside of the peak while he sucked. A tremor shook her. Sam ran her hand down the back of his head, and murmured his name, her voice breathy and soft.

God, he loved the sound. Loved that he could put that note in her voice.

She nestled her breasts against his chest, aligned her stomach against his, and scraped his shoulder with her teeth, then sucked. He grew so hard it hurt.

His mouth found hers. He slid his hand over her buttocks and then touched her through her panties, tempting her, taking it slow, though he wanted to rip the garment from her. When she rocked against his touch, he groaned beneath the kiss and slid his fingers beneath the fabric. She was hot and wet, ready in every way, but she trembled.

“We don’t have to—” he began, his voice hoarse.

She reached for his zipper.

Thank you, Jesus!
He lay back to give her access. As soon as she opened his fly, he dragged his shorts and briefs down below his knees. He couldn’t hide or control how much he wanted her. With her gaze resting on his erection, his need grew stronger.

She tore open the condom and rolled it down over him, her touch squeezing the breath from his lungs.

Sam removed her panties, giving him a chance to kick free of the shorts and briefs.

She ran a hand down the center of his chest and followed the thin line of hair that bisected his stomach and led to his sex. He was so masculine, so powerfully built, and so aroused. He took her breath away.

Her throat grew dry and she swallowed. She wanted him covering her, filling her. But what if she panicked?

Tim turned on his side and guided her close. He brushed her hair off her face and ran the back of his fingers along her cheek and jaw. “I want you, but if it isn’t right for you yet, I understand.”

“It is. So much more right than I ever expected.” It was. He was. She loved this man and felt certain he cared for her. Which was much, much more than she’d ever known in her entire married life. Her body ached with wanting him. “Please you finish what we started?” she asked.

“Ahhh…honey. The whole point is to finish together.”

His kisses took on a tender, unhurried quality, despite the unsteadiness of his breathing and the feverish way he molded her against him. He tempted her with his body, then ran a hand between them to tempt her with his fingers. When he turned to cover her body with his own, she ran her hands up his back and clung to him, though sudden dread spread tension throughout her body.

“This is me, Sam. You say the word and we stop.”

Looking up into his eyes, though his body was ready to possess hers, she knew he’d sacrifice his needs for hers. The momentary fear eased. She worked her hand between their bodies and guided him inside her.

Carefully, he pushed into her, settling himself so deep, there was no space left between them. The moment seemed more intimate than any she had ever experienced. She wanted him to stay poised above her forever, protective, passionate, wanting her, filling her.

He seemed completely content to do just that. Until he moved.

With his slow, gliding withdrawal, and returning thrust, she caught her breath and rolled her hips in response.

His murmured, “Oh, God, Sam,” completely ripped away the rest of her restraint.

She captured his rhythm, a fine mist of sweat coating her skin as every muscle in her body tensed and released. She was hovering on the brink of something more, reaching for it.

His thrusts grew shorter, deeper, more intent, as though he couldn’t get close enough. With every movement he hit that sweet spot inside her, driving her mad, promising her more.

Release rolled through her so intense she cried out. With one final thrust, she felt the throbbing pressure of his climax, and was overcome by another gentler aftershock of pleasure strong enough for her hips to jerk and her breath to catch. She buried her face against his bare shoulder, clinging to him until her breathing eased.

He raised his head to look down at her. “Are you okay?”

She smiled. “I’m perfect.”

He grinned. “Yeah. You are.” He lowered his mouth to hers in a long, slow kiss. “I should have gone slower, but I wanted you so much.”

“In case you missed it, I wanted you, too.”

“I did get that idea a time or two.”

His understatement triggered a laugh.

“I don’t want to move, but I need to deal with the condom,” he said, his voice husky. He eased out of her, then paused to kiss her. “I’ll be right back.”

Sam smiled as she watched his muscular behind disappear into the bathroom. A feeling of triumph, of rightness built within her. She’d made love with him. And she’d only had that one moment of uncertainty. And he’d understood.

She tugged down the blankets and slipped beneath them. He appeared in the bathroom doorway and paused to stretch. Her heart nearly turned over as she watched the smooth movement of his muscles, the way they worked together. The balanced, measured way he placed his feet as he strolled back to bed. The blatancy of his male nudity, and his confidence with it.

What would it be like if she could wake up to him every morning?

She folded back the blankets and he slipped in beside her and invited her in close to his side. She rested her head upon his shoulder and bent her thigh across his.

He ran a caressing hand up her thigh. “What happened today?” he asked, his lips finding her temple and lingering there.

She didn’t try to pretend she didn’t understand what he was asking about. She hadn’t shared her financial issues for fear he’d offer her money or something, and he’d already done enough. “I had a meeting at the bank this afternoon to refinance the house. The loan officer was trying to intimidate me into a loan I couldn’t possibly make the payments on. And I found out someone had stolen my identity and opened a credit card in my name.”

“Jesus!” He turned toward her, a scowl darkening his features.

Sam shook her head. “I’m going to file a police report tomorrow. After I found out about all that, and the twelve hundred dollars a month the loan officer was expecting for a two-year loan, I really needed a moment to calm down.” She ran her fingertips over the light swirls of hair on his chest. “So, I slipped into the bathroom and called you.”

His expression relaxed and his arm tightened around her drawing her against him again. “You should have told me. I could have come to the bank and sat in on the meeting. I can do intimidating without even opening my mouth.”

She smiled at the thought of how Mr. Taylor might have dealt with him. Not very well, she’d bet. “It’s important I learn how to stand up for myself. After I spoke to you, I went back into his office and kicked butt.” She clenched her fist and pumped it in the air.

Flash laughed. “I’m not surprised. You can slay me with just a look.”

She ran her fingertips over his beard-covered jaw. “You have a soft spot for me.”

“More than that, honey.”

She pushed herself up on one elbow to look down at him.

His eyes had never looked a clearer blue. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

CHAPTER 31

W
hy wasn’t he nervous or freaked out about this love stuff? He studied Sam’s features. The freckles across her nose. How her eyes changed from gray to green with emotion. It felt right to love her. For him. But was it okay for her?

Maybe he should have put more thought into this. But he loved her. And making love with her had been everything he’d needed and wanted. He’d tried to make it as good for her as it had been for him. And holding her close now, feeling her skin against his…they deserved this.

But if something happened to him, and she learned about his background later, the sense of betrayal might destroy her feelings for him. He’d kept so many things from her.

“I promised to tell you what happened to me while I lived on the street. And I need to tell you now, so you’ll really know me. Know who you’re with.” He swallowed. “I should have told you weeks ago, but I never expected…so much.” He grasped the hand resting on his chest, raised it to his cheek and brushed his lips against it.

“I know you care about me and Joy. That’s enough.”

Did she think she deserved so little? He held her gaze while he continued. “I’m a mutt. I never knew my father. My mother couldn’t even tell me who he might have been.”

“Do you really think that would change how I feel about you?”

“No.” He didn’t. She was too caring to be shallow. “No. But I’m concerned if anyone finds out about my early years they may try to stir up trouble for you and say I’m not a good influence around Joy.”

She hesitated for a moment. “What happened to you occurred years ago, didn’t it?”

“Between the ages of seven and fourteen.”

“When you picked the wrong guy’s pocket?”

“Or the right one, as it turned out.”

She tugged the pillow up behind her against the headboard, leaned back against it and pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts. “Tell me, but it won’t change the way I feel.”

God, she looked so—he was tempted just to forget this stuff and ease his way back inside her. He grew hard again just thinking about it. Bending his leg to hide the tented sheet, he ran his fingers through his short hair and folded his hands beneath his head to keep from reaching for her.

“Social services took me from my mom when I was seven and put me in a facility, an orphanage, for a while, until they found someone to take me in. I was a handful. I’d been forced into things to help supply my mom and her boyfriend with drugs.” He looked away. “I’m not going to go into detail. I don’t know how I came out of it whole. Or how I avoided getting killed.” He shook his head.

“I ran through a few of foster families, and when I was eleven eventually ended up with a couple with two boys. Their oldest was sixteen. Michael, a star athlete. He punched on me some, but not enough to throw up any flags. The other one, Xander, was fourteen and sneaky, did some shoplifting and other stuff. He put the loot he stole in my room and made sure his mom found it, so I’d get the blame.”

“I realized pretty quick they wanted to get rid of me. So I tried to keep my head down and do what I could to stay out of their way.”

Sam’s eyes glazed with tears and Flash sat up to draw her close. “This is just the past. It can’t hurt me anymore, and I don’t want it to hurt you, either.”