Mistaken Identity (12 page)

“Mmmm. Mmmm. Mmmm.” He hums shaking his head.

“What is it?”

“You.” His grin is devastatingly gorgeous, his eyes swimming in happiness.

“Me?”

“Yes you and what you do to me.”

“What exactly do I do to you?”

“That’s the million dollar question. What are you doing to me? Like I said earlier, you amaze me. I wasn’t looking for a woman to be in my life, and then God drops you right in front of me.”

Now not only are his looks pulling at my chest, his words are beginning to grip around my heart and pull even harder. I’m falling head over heels for him. I know it’s too soon, but how the hell do you stop this when you don’t want it to stop?

I squeeze against his chest and whisper, “I’m glad He did.”

He hooks my chin pulling my face to his. “Me too,” he whispers against my lips.

Our slow kiss begins a burning low in my core. I want him. I’ve felt empty since he left me earlier. He breathes passion into me with his kiss and it sends butterflies flurrying in my stomach. Deciding to make this happen again, I throw my leg over him sliding up on his lap. My ego dances at the feel of him already ready for me. It does a girl some good to know your man wants you this badly.

He tugs my shirt over my head and unsnaps my bra giving him an eye-level view of my naked mounds. He groans taking to my breast, flicking his tongue over my harden nipples, tugging gently at them. I throw my head back and push my chest further into him, letting out a moan. Whatever nerves I felt before are gone, replaced with want and lust. I jerk his shirt over his head and lean down to torture his earlobe with gentle bites and kisses. I’ve just learned this drives him insane. He moans, his hands pulling me down on his lap as I drag my teeth down his neck. His moans have become my drug.

I slide my knees to the floor between his thighs, kissing each pectoral muscle, sliding my tongue across his nipples. He awkwardly shimmies out of his jeans never getting up from the couch, taking his boxers down with them. My sex clenches at the naked sight of him. His aroused flesh is lying against his six pack abs, and his sculpted chest heaves from the ache of desire. He sucks in air when I grab his shaft stroking it, kissing along his thighs. I don’t torture him long with this and take him in my mouth. I suck him, rising and falling, my hand helping the process up and down the opposite direction. His fingers snake through my hair, twisting it into his fist and controlling my movements. He pushes me down and guides me back up, hissing through his teeth. I glance up from under my lashes, his mouth is parted, eyes heavy, and breaths harsh.

“Damn,” he sighs.

I circle my tongue across the tip of his flesh and he gasps. With a hard pull, he stands me up in front of him, unbuttoning my pants and ripping them down off me. He grabs my hips pulling me onto his lap, my legs straddling him. He places himself at my entrance, and I slowly slide down onto it, letting it fill me to its entirety. We moan together as I begin to rise and fall, letting him fill me and empty me over and over. My orgasm begins to spool deep inside of me. He slaps me on my ass then grabs my hips, pulling me down into his ruthless thrusts. My pace quickens and I arch to meet his next powerful thrust throwing my head back. He leans up, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me down onto him deeper by my shoulders. I begin to teeter on the breaking point.

“Oh, Samantha,” he groans.

Rising and falling with force, begging to push myself over the edge, I moan his name. Something inside of him snaps when I do and he picks me up from under my knees. I wrap around his neck when he stands, pulling my legs up and allowing gravity to slam me back down on his dick several times before placing me on his bed. With my ankles in his hands, my legs spread far apart, he heaves himself into me, striking every perfect nerve there is.

A dizzying explosion of feeling bursts through my veins. “Tanner!” I yell out shuddering uncontrollably from the spasms of my orgasm. His tempo increases, his strokes are long and hard, he growls out in ecstasy flooding himself into me.

We’re still lying beside each other naked, our breaths finally slower than the previous moments when he says, “You amaze me, Samantha.”

Still sedated from my orgasm, I giggle. “Why do you call me Samantha all the time?” Honestly, I’m surprised my brain managed a full sentence but he is the only one that insists on my full name.

“It’s your name.” That seriously should’ve had a
duh
behind it.

“I know that, but everyone normally calls me Sam.”

“Yeah, that’s why I call you Samantha.” He leans up on his elbow kissing the tip of my nose, “Plus Samantha sounds gorgeous rolling off my tongue.” He pauses for a moment giving me a devilish smile, “in more ways than one.”

Chapter 19

I wake to the warm glow of the sun shining through the white curtains that line the wall, giving the room the feeling of being inserted into a cloud. I slept so well in Tanner’s arms pulled tight against the ridges of his hard muscles wrapped in the silk sheets of his bed. From what I remember, that used to make me hot. Not the turn me on kind of hot, but the get the hell away from me you’re making me sweat kind of hot. Not with Tanner though. Tanner felt like a necessity, a comfort needed to drift comfortably into the blackness of sleep. A sudden feeling of being alone tingles down the backside of my body. I roll to see him gone, surprised by his absence. Surely I wasn’t dreaming about everything that happened last night.

When my feet hit the cold wood floor, I definitely know I wasn’t dreaming. I’m sore all over, from my neck to my ankles and with every tender step I take, my sex begs for no movement. I grimace when I slide into my jeans, barely able to raise my legs to step in to them. The mixture of horseback riding and passionate sex has my bottom half in a delicious ache, like the feeling you get the day after a vigorous workout.

I slowly and carefully start down the stairs in a search for Tanner—one foot in front of the other, hand tight on the railing. It would be my luck for my knees to give out and tumble down the stairs, although it would be one hell of an entrance. Just as my right foot hits the wood floor to the living room, the front door opens and Tanner steps in. Thrill pricks at my skin at the sight of how gorgeous he looks. His dark jeans are brushed with dirt. His white t-shirt clings against his chiseled chest from the trickle of sweat that’s apparent in spots then tampers down to washboard abs.

A cautious smile teases his lips, “Good morning.” His comment seems more as a question, and rightfully so. He should know I’m not a morning person no matter how wonderful the sight may be.

“Morning.” I respond. Screw the peppy shit.

“Don’t think I didn’t remember. I’ve made coffee for you.” He shakes his finger proud that he did remember.

I don’t say anything while following him to the kitchen. I know I can be evil before coffee reaches my blood, and I rather him not see the horns that I tuck away. He hands me a cup of steaming mightiness and before I rush my lips to it, I inhale the dancing vapors. The strong odor makes my mouth water, and before I torture myself any longer, I take a sip allowing the warmth to slide down my throat and into my veins.

I lean into the counter holding the cup with both hands, trying to train my uncaffeinated brain to be as polite as it is at work. “Where’d you go?”

He leans against the opposite counter crossing his tanned, muscled arms over his chest. “I had to tend to the horses.” The way he stands shows confidence and power, but his voice carries a gentleness.

“Oh.” I guess if I had thought about it longer, I would have figured it out. Just another example of how my brain needs caffeine to even form a solid thought.

He pushes off the counter and starts toward the exit, “I’m going to take a shower. Make yourself at home.” He winks and now I feel like an ass for being an ass.

I stay planted in my spot, still consuming my coffee in the kitchen. Slowly, I feel the urge to snap heads off fade away into the far away distance. How I came to rely so much on coffee is beyond me. Why I hate mornings so much, well, they just suck that’s why.

There’s a picture in a black frame in the corner of the grey marbled counter of Tanner and the man I assume is his father. The man is sitting down signing a document with a dazzling suit and tie. Tanner is standing over him watching with a smile like he’s just been rewarded a million dollar lottery. Whatever it is, they both seem to be sharing a good laugh.

I make my way to the French doors lining the back of the living room. It’s a breathtaking view overlooking the pasture, and how the sun bounces off the dew on the barn gives it a magazine photo finish. Onyx and Belle have made their way into the pasture, their long necks down grazing the grass.

My skin becomes alive, nerves standing on end and I know I’m not alone. I don’t have time to turn and greet him before his presence is directly behind me.

Tanner steps up behind me draping his arms around my shoulders resting his chin on his arm. He smells of clean fresh minty citrus that is now officially runner up to his woodsy mandarin cologne that I love so much.

“They look so peaceful out there, don’t they?”

I tilt my head resting against his. I feel the need to show him my ill-mannered morning has past. “They do. You think you’ll ever get any more?”

“No. Not now that I have you in my life. I wouldn’t be able to give them the attention they deserve. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

My heart skips a few beats at the tenderness of his words. I’m head over heels for him, practically drowning, and it’s taking every ounce of strength not to tell him, but I’m sure I’d send him running for the hills. We stand like this for only a minute when the heat of his body moves away from me.

“I’m going to get dressed.” He whispers into my hair. He walks away, his well-toned etched muscles working with each movement he makes. I’ve always had a thing for a good-looking back. Tanner gets the top award.

_________________________

The moment I push open the door to my apartment, the ice cold air hits my skin and steals my breath. I wanted to come home and shower to wash away all my extracurricular activities from yesterday. Tanner protested, arguing that staying wrapped in each other’s arms on the couch all day sounded better, which it did, but I’m hell bent to shower and not wear off my welcome.

The thermostat is set at fifty-five and Jess isn’t here in the meat freezer. I’m confused why she would turn it down so low. She’s cold natured. She would be swaddled up in five pounds of blankets if she was here.

“This girl, I swear,” I say out loud to no one changing the temperature back to a comfortable seventy degrees. Then when I enter the kitchen, I begin wondering if she was sleep walking this morning. She’s left several cabinet doors wide open, something she fusses at me for.

Everything is out of sorts today. The temperature of my apartment, cabinet doors wide open, and now standing here under the water in the shower, my shampoo and body wash have been moved too. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s been in the same spot since we’ve moved in here. It’s like a turf war between us, I’m on the right, and she’s on the left. No one crosses over and lives to tell about it. Okay, we do live, but not without some grief.

Chapter 20

“I wonder where he’s taking you today.” Jess flips through a tabloid magazine enthralled at the headlines, never ungluing her eyes to look up at me.

Tanner, yet again, has planned something for us and he isn’t going to tell me anything. He gets a kick out of surprising me, knowing damn well I hate the unknown. Over the past two months, he has surprised me with more carriage rides through the city and elegant restaurants, but my most favorite was when he cooked for me. I’ve never had a man cook for me. Tanner definitely knows his way around the kitchen.

“I have no idea, but he wants me to wear jeans again, so I’m sure it’s got something to do with the horses.”

Finally, she peels her eyes off the retched magazine and glares at me with raised brows, “Are you going to tell him tonight, Belle?”

My nosey Jess, always prying into my relationships. Of course that’s what best friends are for, but sometimes she’s pushy. She knows how I feel about him. I think she knew before I did. I haven’t disclosed my feelings with him in fear of ruining a good thing. Sometimes I can look into his deep blue irises and see them screaming the love he feels, but then my imagination could be playing tricks on me. It could be my overwhelming want for him to love me that I see.

“I’m scared once I tell him, he’s going to high tail it out. I don’t know a lot about his past but I know he’s been hurt. I just don’t know the extent of it.”

“Belle, I’d be willing to bet a paycheck he feels the same way about you. I’ll even add part of my closet he’s a chicken shit just like you. Someone needs to give the hell in.” She tosses the magazine at my head and walks out not giving me a chance to argue with her. Not that there’s much to argue about. I am chicken shit, but she’s right…as always. He may not feel the same way about me, but I need to tell him how I feel. That way, there’s no question, and if he bolts out the door, then I’m not wasting my time on someone who doesn’t want me. Who the hell am I kidding, I’d be devastated. Damn, I sound pathetic.