Hot as Sin (24 page)

Her hands grasped his rain-wet hair and his name reverberated off the walls. Using his shoulder to shift her legs even wider, he grasped her hips with his hands to hold her steady. He ran his tongue over her in long strokes, finally settling at the hard nub of her clitoris.

She tasted so good. She’d always been so responsive when he loved her like this, her body trembling in his hands.

Lightly swirling his tongue against her arousal, he shifted her weight so that he could hold her up with only one hand. Needing to be inside her even as he made her come with his tongue, he slipped one finger into her tight canal, her inner muscles grasping and pulling him deeper inside.

He could feel how close she was, knew that she was about to explode, so he slid another finger in to join the first, and as he bucked them in, then out, he flicked his tongue fast across her clit and took her all the way over the edge.

She was still gasping with pleasure when he pulled her down, holding her hips an inch from the tip of his hard shaft.

He forced himself to say, “I don’t have any protection.”

“I don’t care,” was her instant response, and then she was sliding down onto his hard shaft and taking him in, her expression one of utter satisfaction. Complete pleasure. Riding him hard, she moved up, then down on his cock, and even though a part of him wanted to slow down and savor every moment of their lovemaking, he was too far gone to do anything but call out her name and give in to one of the most powerful orgasms of his life.

Seconds turned into minutes as they held on to each other. Many times over the course of his hotshot career, Sam had run nearly vertical slopes, but he’d never had this much trouble catching his breath.

Dianna’s long limbs still twined around him, he finally stood up, carrying her with him into the bedroom.

“I couldn’t wait another second to have you, but now I’m going to take my time. I want to relearn every inch of your body, Dianna. Every beautiful inch.”

Sam’s intense words made her shiver as he climbed beneath the clean white sheets. She reached for him and he cupped her face with his large, wonderfully talented hands as he kissed her, one muscular thigh trapping her beneath him in the most delicious way.

She’d dreamed about kissing him again, so many times, more times than she would ever admit, but lying halfway across his hard muscles, pressing her lips against his, feeling the beginnings of a beard bristling across her skin, simply blew her mind.

Sensing that he was letting her lead, she pressed soft kisses along his lips, again and again as she relearned their contours, the extrasensitive spots, the places where they both used to get lost in pleasure. But her tongue was not nearly patient enough and it slipped into the corners of his mouth, then between his lips to run along his smooth teeth.

And then, suddenly, he stopped kissing her. Not knowing why, she followed his gaze to her upper arms. She’d been a little surprised herself in the shower to see that bruises covered both of them like a tattoo.

“You should have told me you were hurt.”

Figuring she’d gotten these bruises during their white-water expedition, she said, “I’ll heal,” but she didn’t want to focus on anything but the man sharing her bed. She ran her hands over his chest, his abdominal muscles.

“My God,” she said reverently, “you’re incredible.”

His mouth moving into a smile, he teased, “You’re acting like this is the first time you’ve seen me naked.”

She pressed a series of kisses against the broad wall of his chest. “We were just kids back then. And you are definitely aging well.” She looked up at him and licked her lips. “Really, really well.”

“Not as well as you are,” he said between kisses. “I didn’t think making love to you could be better than before. But you’ve amazed me again, sweetheart.”

Her nipples hardened against his chest and the vee between her legs grew even hotter at his words. He was right. They’d always been a good fit. Ten years after their first time, she couldn’t imagine ever making love to another man.

Sam was it: the only man she wanted to share her bed with ever again.

But their bond was too new and she didn’t want to say anything that would freak him out, so she simply put her lips back on his and pressed her breasts and hips up into his hard heat to tell him with her body.

His response was swift, one hand curling behind her head, the other moving down to cup her bottom. His thick erection pressed between her legs, effortlessly fueling her inner fire.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against her lips, before crushing them beneath his.

She felt the truth of his words deep in her bones, before giving herself up completely to pleasure.

No one kissed as good as Sam. No one knew right where to bite or how hard. No one else had ever found the exact spot to lick or the hidden places she liked to be stroked.

Only Sam.

She didn’t know how long they kissed. A minute. An hour. All she knew was that she was drowning in desire, desperate for release, and that this time she didn’t want to go without him.

He pulled away so that he could look at her, his gaze moving everywhere, taking in her slightly fuller hips, along with the bruises and scrapes that she’d weathered thus far in Colorado.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

His declaration sent new blazes rippling through her, over her, as his hands cupped the undersides of her breasts, pushing them together, and then his tongue found her nipples again and she was moaning with pleasure.

Wanting to get closer, she arched her back as he cupped the damp vee between her legs with his palm. She gasped, involuntarily pushing her mound into his hand. The heel of his palm rocked against her and, again, she was so close, right on the edge of exploding.

Her limbs felt like melted butter and she wanted to spend hours tasting every inch of his body, but the truth was that she needed him too badly to take that kind of time or have that much patience. Not when she couldn’t resist the urge to wrap her fingers around his shaft. He twitched several times in succession in her hand, so hard and big that she wondered for the hundredth time if she was dreaming.

No other lover had ever matched him in size or skill, but, again, memories did nothing to live up to the reality of the man she now held in the palm of her hands. Moving her hand slowly up and down his hard length, he groaned—a sound that was half pain, half pleasure—and she smiled as she planted soft kisses against his shoulder, his chest, finally finding his nipple with her tongue.

She wasn’t surprised when he removed her fingers and pushed her back into the bed. A spring in the bed pushed into a sore spot in her ribs and she winced.

Sam stilled. “I’m not being gentle enough.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Better than fine. I’ve never felt so good in all my life.”

To make sure he didn’t try to play the hero again by pleasuring her and then walking away unsatisfied, she wrapped her legs tightly around him. She was so ready for him—had been dreaming of him for ten long years late at night when she was unable to control her subconscious self—that all it took was one thrust to send her reeling into another orgasm.

He drove her higher and higher, covering her scream of pleasure with a passionate kiss as her muscles squeezed him, pulling him back in with every plunge. Closing her eyes tight, she gloried in every last second of ecstasy.

When she finally came down off the incredibly high peak, she realized that he was still huge within her. Looking into his eyes, she whispered, “Sam,” unable to keep everything she was feeling for him from wrapping around his name.

He didn’t say a word, but she already knew what he was feeling from what she read in his eyes, on his face, in the way he touched her.

And then, he started moving again, slower this time, his hands moving from her hips, to her waist, then over her breasts, and she gasped as brand-new waves of pleasure ran through her, all the way to the tips of her toes.

She was burning up in his arms, goose bumps moving over her skin as he kissed her gently. As he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, a moan fell from her lips at the amazing sensations he continued to evoke in her. All the while, he slowly moved in, then out of her, holding off on his own completion so that she could be right there with him when he came.

She wrapped her legs even tighter around his waist and put her hands on his shoulders, pulling his head down. Their lips touched and they both careened over the edge, their hips bucking in perfect rhythm, their hands and mouths grasping at each other.

Later, as she lay against his chest, breathing hard while he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, she no longer tried to hold back the truth of what was in her heart.

“I love you, Sam.”

He couldn’t believe she was giving him a chance to finally get things right, especially after he’d done so many things wrong. Not only had he screwed up by leaving her alone for so many weeks on end after the miscarriage, but when she fled to San Francisco, why hadn’t he gotten down on his goddamned knees and begged her to come home?

He couldn’t screw it up this time. She deserved the fairy tale this time. She deserved to be romanced.

She deserved to know without a doubt that she could count on him to be there for her. Forever.

Misunderstanding his silence, Dianna came up on one elbow and smiled at him.

“It’s okay, Sam,” she said softly. “I’m not in any rush. And I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I just wanted to tell you what I’m feeling, that I’ve fallen in love with you all over again. And nothing you say or don’t say is going to change my mind.”

Her beautiful skin was flushed and rosy as she took his hand and placed it in the center of her chest. “Nothing is going to change what’s in my heart.”

Slowly stroking the pulse point in her neck with the tips of his fingers, he knew he’d never tire of looking at her, kissing her, laughing with her.

“What if I’m the one who’s in a rush?” he asked in a husky voice.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and when her long limbs shifted against his, the sensual friction of their bodies amped up yet another level.

“I love you, too,” he said. “I never stopped loving you, Dianna. I just tried to convince myself that I had.”

“You were pretty convincing,” she teased, but he hated to hear the lingering doubts behind her words.

“No, I was an idiot. And I only hope I can be the man you need me to be the second time around.”

Her lips pressed gently to his. “You’ll never run out of chances with me, Sam. I’m yours from here on out, whether you want me or not.”

He grasped her perfectly shaped rear end and pulled her against him so that his growing hard-on was nestled between her soft thighs.

“You have no idea how much I want you. I’ve wanted you every single second, even when you were in that hospital bed telling me to get the hell out.”

He brushed his fingers across her flat stomach and she sucked in a breath as he slowly trailed his fingertips over her midsection, the soft swell of her breasts, until goose bumps covered her skin. Wanting to touch every inch of her, he moved his hands to cup her breasts with his palms, then rubbed his thumbs across her tight nipples.

“Sam,” she gasped, “it feels so good. You feel so good.”

He brought his mouth down over one perfect, erect nipple and she arched into his mouth, trying to get even closer to him, and he marveled at how responsive she was to the slightest nip of his teeth on her sensitive flesh.

“How could I have possibly lived without you for so long?” he asked as he ran his mouth down her torso, aiming for the soft flesh on the undersides of her perfect breasts, her smooth stomach, then farther still, down to the shadowed vee between her thighs.

His fingers found her first, wet and slick, and then she was opening her legs for him and pushing her pelvic bone against his hand. Knowing what she wanted, he slid one finger inside her heat at the exact moment that he covered her mound with his mouth.

Loving her cries of pleasure, he slowly swirled the hard nub of her arousal with his tongue as he slid his finger in, then out, of her.

How could he have thought that he’d ever get enough of her? What an idiot he’d been.

And then, she was kicking off the sheets and sliding down his torso, her nipples branding his chest, and he was almost too deep in his fog of desire to realize that she had opened her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

Oh God, it felt so good when she took him inside, high and deep, again and again until he was losing control and they were driving into each other, making up for lost time with each thrust.

It was so easy to say “I love you” again, and then she was moaning his name and her inner muscles were pulling and squeezing his shaft as he roared with pleasure.

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, their stomachs full, their bodies sated, they held each other tight and slept.

———

The man’s eyes hadn’t left the girl all night long, partly to make sure she didn’t escape, partly to make sure she didn’t die on him before her sister arrived. He hadn’t known his own strength until now, hadn’t realized he could hit quite so hard.

Even though he’d barely slept in two days, he wasn’t particularly tired. Not when rage still fueled him.

The previous evening, he’d left the campgrounds utterly furious. There hadn’t been a single opening for him to grab Dianna. Not with the big fireman hovering around her like an annoying fly. But he had listened in from the sidelines when they spoke with the police, knew they were staying up at Peter Cohen’s Farm. Twenty years ago, they’d had mutual friends, but Peter had ended up being more into peace than selling pot, disappearing up into the woods soon after to live with his green-loving friends, far away from the meth-soaked kids who made for good business.

He’d realized, then, that he had to come up with an alternative plan. And then he hit on it, the perfect bait, a clue to finding her sister that she couldn’t resist following up on.

The girl had been limp, pale, and sweaty by the time he lifted her out of his trunk and dragged her back inside her closet. Perhaps he’d left her there for too long in the sun, with little oxygen, he thought dispassionately. At least she was still breathing.