Temporary Home (10 page)

* * * *

Roxi smiled at the man across from her and served him some stuffing. “Happy Thanksgiving,” she said.

With a nod, the man moved on and she cast her gaze askew to check on her nephew. He was a few people from her, serving the mashed potatoes. As if he felt her stare, he glanced at her and gave her a big grin.

Eric was so outgoing, the complete opposite of how she pictured Sam as a child. Being shuttled from home to home, tossed out on his ear in some of the coldest parts of winter. Hell, it was no wonder the man was withdrawn and very protective of his emotions and who he chose to share them with.

Since that night in her bedroom when he’d opened up to her, he’d fallen back into the man who barely said anything. Not that he was being snobbish, he just didn’t speak unless what he had to say was truly worth it. Eric had taken a huge liking to him and it made her tear up to watch them together. No matter how he was with adults, Sam never kept things from Eric. He would help him with anything. There’d been a few times she’d overheard them laughing from the living room as they played a video game. Eric was as good for him as Sam was for Eric.

Sam. Just the thought of him made something warm unfurl in her belly. She wanted to climb as close as she could and wrap around him. Allow his powerful body to press against her, his scent in her nose, the feel of his skin beneath her hands.

Shaking off the thought, she continued serving the numerous people who stood in line to get a warm holiday meal. When it was time for her and Eric to eat, they took their plates and sat down at one of the tables, joining the members there.

After dinner, she and Eric helped clean up before they meandered out into the cold, windy night. She hugged him to her as they walked.

“I’m proud of you, Eric.”

“For what?”

“Helping out today.”

“It’s our thing, Aunt Roxi. I like doing it. Especially with you.”

Damn, he knew how to make the tears start. She nodded and surreptitiously wiped them away before they could fall. “You’re one heck of a kid, Eric.”

At the car, she started the engine and did a quick check to make sure Eric had fastened his seat belt. “Hungry for some dessert?”

“Yes,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Let’s go home then.”

They chatted easily and told jokes on the way there. When she parked in the garage, Eric was bouncing in his seat. She chuckled as he bounded from the vehicle and dashed for the door. After waiting for the garage door to shut behind her, she followed him in. The house was empty and she tried to ignore why it hurt her so much that Sam wasn’t there and was still over with Laila.

Putting her things away, she returned to the kitchen to find Eric waiting for her. His large eyes were bright and hopeful. She winked at him and went to the fridge to withdraw the mint chocolate mousse pie she had made before they’d left this morning.

“Something hot to drink, or would you like milk?”

“Hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate and chocolate pie?” Her tone was full of teasing shock. He flashed a disarming grin and she shook her head. “Okay. You got it.”

Soon they sat at the table eating and drinking. When they heard the garage door open, Eric grinned widely. “Sam’s back,” he said with obvious joy.

He slid from the table before hastening from the kitchen. She knew exactly where he was going. Same damn place she wanted to be, near Sam.

She exhaled on a long breath and prayed for strength. The strength to see him and not run into his arms, lift her lips for his kisses. They’d not been intimate since the first night Eric had arrived—not sexually, anyway. That first night had been pretty damn intimate in her opinion when she’d learnt more about him, but Sam had withdrawn since then.

Her life was spinning out of control and she wasn’t completely honest she wanted it back to normal. Yes, she knew this hurtling down the mountain road wasn’t the safest, smartest way to go about life, but she’d always been more of an impulsive person. The Corps had put structure and order in her life. But she was still the woman she’d been earlier, the one who would just jump in her car and go for a weekend, destination unknown. If it meant sleeping under the stars, then so be it.

Enter Sam Hoch. Every facet of his life was in order. It wasn’t solely because he was a Marine—granted, that enhanced it quite a bit. She had him figured out. Sam didn’t want to get hurt and kept an emotional distance from people. Except Laila, Dean, and Eric.

He didn’t keep such a huge distance from her, she noticed it. She tried not to be hurt by it, but it wasn’t easy. Especially when she heard him carry on a full conversation with Laila, however, only to reduce interaction with her to a sentence. The more it happened the harder it was to deal with.

She got it, truly she did, but, come on, surely she was entitled to a bit more. They’d shared their bodies on occasion. The man had gone after her when she’d tried to wake him from a nightmare. None of it mattered to her. She wanted the Sam who she knew honestly expected anyone he allowed close to leave him at a moment’s notice.

Yes, Roxi knew he wasn’t the type of man to just go out and sleep with people. So somewhere, she must have struck some kind of chord in him. If she could just find it and have it all the time.

She missed him at night. Missed his large strong body next to hers in bed. Sleeping with his arms around her, the beat of his heart identical to her own. She’d never felt as safe in another’s arms. Not that she had been with lots of people, for she hadn’t. But neither had she been a virgin when she’d met Sam.

Hadn’t been one of them in a long time
. Flipping a mental bird, she forced herself to remain seated. Eric would come back in soon, his pie wasn’t finished nor his hot chocolate. And there was no reason for her to rush in the other room and see Sam.

Are you sure about that?

Damn unwanted questions from the subconscious. Tightening her fingers around the mug she held, she ignored the query and lifted the drink to her lips. The warm brew slipped into her mouth and she swallowed the hot water with lemon just as Sam walked in the room with Eric.

Their stares locked, his gaze full of hunger before it was masked. She gave him a short nod, maintaining the pretence she still drank, refusing to let him know how much he affected her. Damn, he looked good. He wore navy blue slacks and a silver-grey long-sleeved button-down shirt. The first few buttons were open and she stared at the expanse of tanned skin which peeked out at her.

“Have some pie, Sam. Aunt Roxi made it. It’s mint chocolate mousse.” Eric began pulling down a plate for him even as he spoke.

Sam stared at her and she back at him. Neither spoke, yet she could feel the line between them strengthen. She had shifted in her chair before she knew it and gave herself a strong mental reprimand when she realised she’d begun to move in his direction.

“Roxi,” he finally said, his voice deep.

“Hello, Sam. Did you have a nice day with Laila and family?”

Terseness flashed like lightning across his face before it vanished. He gave her a nod and she lowered her cup—white with a black Marine logo—to the tabletop.

“Here you go, Sam.” Eric handed him a plate.

“He may be full, Eric,” she said gently.

He held her gaze for a moment before he gave Eric a small smile. “I’d love a piece.” They went to the counter where it sat.

Rolling her lower lip in her teeth, she got up from her chair. “Can I get you something hot to drink, Sam?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine.” He glanced at her over his shoulder, blue gaze raking up and down her form.

She returned the gesture then faced the kettle and turned on the burner. While it heated, she ducked back in the fridge to grab another slice of lemon to put in the cup. She got him a mug and soon was joining them at the table, sliding the drink over to where Sam sat across from her.

He cut off a bite and ate, his gaze locked with hers. Her belly exploded like a flutter of butterflies taking off when disturbed. The deep blue of his eyes darkened as he withdrew the fork from his mouth. His tongue sneaked out and swiped at the corners of his mouth.

“Delicious.”

She swallowed. Was he referring to the pie or memories of her? She wasn’t sure. Her heart pounded and her nipples were tight, pressing against the fabric of her bra. She tried not to squirm under his observation but it wasn’t easy to hold still. Her pussy pulsed and grew wet as she had a vision of him feasting on her the same way he’d seemed to enjoy that first bite of pie.

“Glad you like it.” She willed Eric to speak up and distract him but her nephew was far too into the pie to notice anything amiss between the two adults in the room.

The corner of Sam’s mouth turned up as if he knew precisely what she wished for. Something to break the spell between them. All he’d have to do was drop his gaze and she’d be okay. She hadn’t the strength to shatter it. And damn if it didn’t seem like he wanted her eyes on him. She sat and suffered through three more bites before he released her.

Insides a tumultuous mess, she dropped her gaze to the nearly empty cup before her.
Damn him!
Damn him for having such an effect on her. More to the point, damn her for not being stronger.

She took a slow, deep breath to centre herself. When she looked up he waited for her, his eyes drawing her back in until she was saved by the ringing of the phone. Pushing away from the table, she went to the cordless and lifted it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sis.”

Relief swarmed through her. No matter how often he was away overseas, hearing her brother’s voice was such a reprieve.

“Hey, yourself. You okay?”

“Wonderful. Happy Thanksgiving. Is he still awake?”

“He sure is. Hang on.” Turning back to the kitchen, she said, “Eric?”

“Yes?”

“It’s your dad. He would love to talk to you.”

Eric was at her side before she’d even finished talking. He took the phone and Roxi left as he was saying hello. She went back in the kitchen to allow him some privacy.

Sam wasn’t at the table when she looked in but she sure found him once she stepped fully into the kitchen. He stood at the sink, rinsing off his plate before he placed it in the dishwasher. She licked her lips at the way his pants tightened around his ass, courtesy of him bending over.

He stood up and peered at her. Her heart hitched a bit before settling back into a comfortable rhythm. He had such long lashes, it just wasn’t fair. Though there was no way his face would be considered feminine—he had too many angles and a masculine hardness to his features.
I could stare at him for hours.

Silently, he strolled towards her. She didn’t move. She
couldn’t
move. Their gazes locked on one another as she waited for whatever he had planned. In the back of her mind she could hear Eric still talking to his father but she never took her attention from the man who made her kitchen seem a quarter of its size with how he filled it up.

The closer he got, the more her body craved his touch. She was such a shameless hussy. His stare flickered past her briefly before returning to her face. One hand lifted to touch her cheek and she inhaled sharply at the contact.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Roxi.”

“Same to you, Sam. I hope you had a good day.”

That look drifted down to her lips then back up. “It was. Yours?”

The smile on her face felt a bit forced. “Wonderful. I love helping out at the soup kitchen.” How could one man make her feel so out of control? Damn it, all she wanted was to feel the press of his lips on hers. She dug her nails into her palm so she wouldn’t reach for him.

“Good.” He stepped back and even though it was just a simple touch he’d given her, she still felt the loss deep inside her soul.

Her legs trembled as she made her way to the table and sat back before her slice of pie. Only about three bites remained but she didn’t feel much like eating anything. Oh, she was hungry, but not for anything on the plate. If it wasn’t Sam Hoch, it wouldn’t do.

Eric came back in and handed her the phone. She listened half-heartedly to her brother as he told her when to expect him on Sunday. After the farewell, she ended the call and placed the receiver beside her.

“Finish up your pie, Eric. It’s getting late.”

His eyes sparkled as he did as she’d told him. She knew he was extremely excited about his father coming home. Hell, she was as well.

Soon, Eric was in bed and she was brushing her teeth. Shutting off her light, she slid beneath the bedding. The sheets, they burned her, she was so hypersensitive in wanting Sam. Each shift she made was like flames licking at her skin. Her nipples, tight and pebbled, ached for something. No. Not something. Someone. Sam. His touch. Each breath she took rubbed the cotton sheet against her breasts, shooting sparks through her as she struggled with the need to cry out.

It didn’t work—each time she moved a bit in an attempt to find a position which didn’t make her almost crazy with lust, she enflamed the urge even more. She drifted her hand down, over her flat belly, the close-cropped hair at her pussy, and she slipped two fingers through into the moistness.

She captured her lower lip in her mouth and tried to contain her whimper. She was wet. She circled her clit and shuddered. So near already to her release. She closed her eyes and conjured up the image of Sam Hoch, which never seemed far away. Chiselled features, muscled body and those damn blue eyes. It was the eyes that got her every time. Faster and faster she stimulated herself as she struggled not to come so soon. She wanted it to last. Wanted the feeling to build, more and more until she could just not take it any longer.

You want to feel like you do when in Sam’s arms.

That revelation disturbed the hell out of her and she gave in, allowing herself some respite. An easy flick of her fingers and she orgasmed, fragmenting as pleasure washed over her. But now it had a hollow feel to it. Like something was missing.

Yeah, Sam’s cock. Long and thick, filling you. Shoving you and the bed against the wall with each forward thrust. His hands on your breasts, tugging and flicking your nipples. Rolling them until there is just a hint of pain in with your pleasure. Or is it his fingers between your legs as he powers into you, over and over again giving you that extra little push to get over the edge as he plays with your clit?