Crazy Ever After (19 page)

“Where’s your mom?” he asked.

“She’s upstairs. We started going through Dad’s clothes.” Sam’s voice thickened. “She had a little meltdown. I told her not to worry about it right now. That can be done later. I got her to lie down for a while. I think it’s starting to really hit her.”

She’d been helping her mother. Something hot and soft expanded in his chest. There’d been a lot of years of hurt and anger, but the fact that Samara had been there for her mother made his heart trip a little. He continued his slow strokes up and down her back, then he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll do whatever I can to help. You know that.”

“Yes.”

She turned her face toward him and found his mouth with hers, and they kissed, a long, soft, clinging kiss.

“When are you going to talk to her?” he asked.

She pulled back and gave him a look, her head tilted to one side, lips pursed.

“What?” he asked.

“You didn’t order me to talk to her,” she said slowly.

“Uh...”

“Usually you’re all bossing me around. Telling me what to do. But this time, you assumed I would talk to her and you just asked when that would be.”

He pressed his lips together briefly and nodded. “Yep.”

She threw herself into his arms and covered his face with kisses. “God that makes me hot for you,” she breathed. “Take me upstairs. Now.”

Whoa! He had definitely been using the wrong strategy. He caught her body in his hands and then wrapped his arms around her, crushing her up against him, their mouths fused in a long hot kiss. “Okay,” he gasped a long moment later. “I guess I’m done eating.”

In her room, they once again reached for each other with frantic hands, finding zippers and buttons, yanking T-shirts off. When she was down to her bra and panties, he shoved her up against the wall beside her door and kissed her again. He thrust a hand into her hair, into that messy knot, and cupped one breast with his other hand, his body pressing against hers. She moaned, and the sound inflamed his senses.

He wanted her, wanted to be deep inside her, making her his. He wanted to come inside her, to make her come. His mouth slid across her jaw, found the soft skin of her neck and opened on her there, using his teeth, licking her. Her head tipped sideways, and she made another hot breathy sound that shot straight to his dick.

He breathed in the scent of her, that vanilla scent that filled his senses, and took her mouth again with his, sliding his tongue inside and tasting her essence, so sweet. She sucked on his tongue, so gently, and his dick twitched again, hard, between their bodies. On and on the kiss went until he pulled back, breathing hard. He looked down at her, at the tiny low-cut cups of her white bra revealing the softest curves and a small brown mole on the upper curve of one breast. He sucked in air as he leaned back, his gaze tracking down over her narrow torso down to the edge of little white bikini panties.

“Christ, Samara,” he groaned. “I want you so damn bad.”

“You have me,” she whispered, linking her arms around his neck.

He left her briefly to retrieve a condom from the table beside her bed where he’d left a stash and rolled it onto his throbbing cock as he strode back across the room. She reached behind her and unfastened her bra then dropped it to the floor and leaned against the wall, eyes heavy-lidded, her bottom lip swollen and shiny, her hair falling all down around her shoulders. Fucking beautiful.

He went to his knees in front of her, and she gasped. He hooked his fingers into her panties and started dragging them off, down one hip, then the other. She bent her knees and lifted her feet, one at a time, and he tossed the scrap of cotton and lace aside. He gazed at her for a moment, at her slender thighs and the tiny patch of dark auburn curls right where they joined, and then he pressed his face there and breathed in the feminine scent of her. Sweet Jesus, it was good, so good. It filled his head and made him insane with lust.

“Travis,” she whispered, her fingers sifting through his hair, making his entire body tingle.

He parted her thighs and pressed his tongue into her sweet center, licking her, tasting her. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she whimpered and tipped her pelvis just a little, giving him access. He stroked his tongue over her soft folds, probed inside her, and made her gasp. She spread her legs a little more, and he slipped his hand between her thighs and pushed his fingers up into her, so wet, so hot, his tongue still working.

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Oh, Travis.”

Oh yeah. He wanted to make her come like this, in his mouth, filling him with her sweet cream. He loved her little panting noises, the way her thighs tightened and her fingers tugged at his hair. His cock swelled even more, his balls tightening.

“Come for me, Sam,” he murmured. He flicked his tongue over her clit, pressed his fingers deeper inside her, and felt her clamp around him. On and on, he licked and fucked her with his fingers, pleasuring her, her body tightening and quivering, her sighs getting louder and quicker.

“So good,” she whispered.

Yeah. So good. He wanted to make her feel good, and he closed his lips around her swollen little clit and sucked.

She cried out then and covered her own mouth with her hand, muffling the sounds of her release as her body tightened on his fingers, her clit stiffening beneath his tongue, coming and coming.

“Oh man,” he groaned, lifting his mouth from her. He kissed her belly and rested his forehead there for a moment, his own breathing heavy. Then he straightened, took hold of his cock and found her entrance, thrusting up into her in one smooth fast move. She was wet, and soft, and pulsed around him.

“God,” she gasped, reaching for his shoulders.

He filled her with his cock and took her mouth with his, kissing her long and deep. She nipped at his lips, and he dragged his tongue over hers. Her pussy rippled around him with the last of her orgasm, and he surged up into her, pushing her up against the wall. He filled his hands with her breasts, so soft and warm, hard little nipples against his palms, then slid a hand down to her hip, her thigh, and lifted her leg up against his hip. She groaned into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Harder. Deeper. I love it.”

“Like this?” He gave a hard thrust up into her.

She let out a soft cry. “Yes.”

In and out he slid, up and down into her wet heat, losing himself in the pleasure of it, his tongue in her mouth, his cock in her pussy. Her soft skin rubbed against his, and heat spiraled through him, a hot coil of sensation. She grew even wetter around him, slick and tight, and tension built at the base of his spine.

He could tell himself a million times over they shouldn’t be doing this, but it couldn’t change how much he wanted it, how much he wanted her. It was crazy and foolish and absolutely amazing. She was amazing and drove him absolutely crazy. No woman had ever irritated, angered, and amused him as much as she did. No woman had ever turned him on like she did.

He fucked up into her with wild intensity, thumbing her nipple, cupping her breast, kissing her mouth. His balls tight with need, pressure built inside him so fast and hot he couldn’t stop it, and with one last hard thrust, he came inside her in long, almost painful, bursts. He swallowed her cry as she contracted hard around him, coming again, pinned up against the wall.

“God,” she gasped. “Oh my god, Travis.”

He became dimly aware of her fingernails biting into his shoulders and slowly releasing. His heart thudded, his head spun a little, and he leaned his forehead against the cool wall. Her mouth opened on his shoulder, and she gave him slow, sucking kisses there.

“Holy hell,” he muttered. He let her leg lower to the floor. They both trembled. “The bed.”

“I can’t move,” she said.

“I know. I know.” He slowly pulled out of her, holding the condom in place and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Hold on.” He got rid of the condom then swung her up in his arms and carried her to bed.

“I think I was too noisy,” she whispered as he carefully laid her down then stretched out beside her. “What if my mom heard?”

“I’m getting my own place.” He pulled her up against him. Their legs twined around each other automatically, body fitting against body, soft against hard. So damn good. He sighed. “If I’m staying in town, I need to find a place.”

She sighed too as she snuggled into him. “I guess that would be good.”

“You planning to stay here with your mom?”

She didn’t answer immediately. “I guess that depends on whether she kicks me out when I tell her how I screwed up.”

“I doubt if she’ll kick you out.”

She hitched one narrow shoulder. “You never know. I feel like throwing up just thinking about telling her. But I will. If she doesn’t want me to leave, then I guess...I kind of feel like I should stay. You know. Help her out a little.”

He smiled against her hair. “Yeah. I know.”

Something expanded in his chest, and he let out a long slow breath.

“Do you have a house in Los Angeles?” she asked, her fingers rubbing over his shoulder.

“Yeah. It’ll be easy to sell, though. I’ll find an apartment or something here, something I can get quick access to. What about you?”

“I have an apartment in San Francisco. It’s really small but kind of cute, and it’s in a nice area. I’ll miss it, a little.”

“You can get a place here one day.”

She leaned back to look at him. In the near-darkness, her eyes shimmered. “You seem to have accepted that I’m staying.”

He smiled. “I don’t really have any control over where you live, Samara.”

“True.”

“But I haven’t accepted that you’re taking over for Parker.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“But let’s leave business at the office,” he said. “You’re the one who said we could keep them separate.”

Her lips pouted for a moment then relaxed. “What is it we’re keeping separate?”

“Business and...hot sex, according to you.”

She trailed a finger down his chest. “You didn’t think that was hot?”

“No.”

“What!”

“It wasn’t hot, honey.” He rolled her to her back and moved over her. “It was incendiary.”

“Oh. Mmmm.”

Chapter Fifteen

Samara braced herself for the conversation with her mother. She’d known this conversation was going to happen and had known how difficult it was going to be, but now that she knew there’d been no affair, it was going to be even harder to admit how stupid she’d been. She was looking forward to it about as much as she would to having her every hair on her body plucked out one by one.

Saturday seemed a good time, when neither of them were in a rush to go somewhere. They had all day to hide from each other if things got really ugly. She’d been about to tackle it last night and had sought out her mother in her bedroom, only to find her sobbing over Dad’s clothes. Yeah, not such a good time.

Even now, her stomach churned with the coffee she’d just had for breakfast, unable to face food.

When her mother came downstairs, Samara waited until she was seated in the breakfast room with her omelet, coffee and newspaper and wandered in.

“Oh, good morning, Samara.” Her mom’s smile actually hurt her. “What are you up to today?”

“I... um...need to do some shopping.”

Which wasn’t totally procrastinating on broaching the subject. It was true. She either needed to go home to San Francisco and pack some clothes or go on a major shopping trip if she was going to be staying in Portland for a while. There was no way she wanted to go all the way to San Francisco and back when she had so much work to do.

“Oh, let me take you shopping, Samara!” Her mother’s face brightened. “I’ll take you to that little shop I mentioned, and there are some sweet places right near there you’d like.”

“That’s okay,” Samara muttered. “I don’t want to spend all afternoon looking at clothes. I just want somewhere I can get in, buy a couple of suits, and get out.”

“Oh, please. It’ll be fun. I haven’t had my daughter around for so long to do that with. We used to have so much fun shopping together. Remember? I’ve missed that. And we could go out for lunch.”

The soft look in her mother’s eyes dented Samara’s resistance, and she let out a sigh. Yeah, she did remember the fun they’d used to have. “Fine. We’ll go shopping.” Over lunch would be a good time to talk.

In the first shop her mother dragged her into, she found enough items she liked—pretty little suits and blouses—that she could have been finished. Mom had been right about the shoes; they had gorgeous pumps and sandals. Seduced by silky fabrics and stiletto heels, Samara gave in to the experience and let her mother bring her outfit after outfit to try on.

“Oh, you look so beautiful in that,” she breathed, studying Samara in a silk dress. “You have to have that one.”

“I can’t afford all these, Mom.”

“I’ll buy it for you. I’ll buy everything for you.”

Samara’s insides tightened. It had been so long it was hard to get over the idea that she didn’t want anything from her mother, but guilt and remorse ate away at her resistance, and she found herself sighing yet again and agreeing. Strangely, the pleasure her mother seemed to get from it actually made her feel...good.

She left the store loaded down with garment bags and shoe boxes that they loaded into the trunk of her mother’s Lexus.

“We can drive to the next store,” Mom said, hopping into the driver’s seat. “It’s not far but too far to walk.”

“I don’t need to go anywhere else, Mom, I got enough stuff there.”

“But this other place has gorgeous designer jeans.”

“I have a pair of jeans.”

Mom slanted her a sideways glance as she accelerated up Market Street. “You can always use another nice pair of jeans.”

Samara couldn’t help the smile. “Fine. Are you going to buy anything for yourself?”

Her mother lifted a shoulder. “Probably not. There’s not really anything I need. This is your shopping trip.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Mom smiled. “Yes. I am. Is there something wrong with that? I have a beautiful daughter, and I’ve missed spoiling you the last few years.” Her voice caught on her last words, and she swallowed and stared straight ahead out the window.