Temporary Home (17 page)

“What do you think, Roxi?”

Shit! She’d lost total track of the conversation. Scrambling to remember what she’d said, she snagged onto the first thing she could recall. A visitation.

“I would love to see you.”

“Great. I’ll get settled a bit more and we can plan something.”

“Uh huh,” she mumbled, fascinated by the naked man who stood before her, his cock erect and covered with a condom.

Flashing a glance up to his face, she was struck mute by the raw desire reflected there. He fisted his cock and stepped closer. Leaning nearer, he whispered in her ear, “Let’s see how well you can carry on this conversation.”

She whimpered in the back of her throat and did her best to focus on Ariel, who was telling her all about San Antonio and how much she enjoyed it there, despite the short time since she’d arrived.

Sam lifted her up onto the countertop and reached past her to turn off the kettle which had begun to whistle. Then he was back. The broad head of his shaft slid up and down her slit before he thrust home in a single flex of his hips.

“Ohh,” she cried.

“Roxi?”

“Burnt myself on the kettle. I’m a klutz today,” she lied.

Sam gave her a decadent grin and began to move. She dropped her head back to rest against the cupboard door, the hand which held the phone shook as her body began to tune everything but the man between her thighs out.

He reached up lazily and cupped her breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers as he continued his precision motions.

Back and forth.

In and out.

She was so fucked, she didn’t know which way was up. Eyes rolling back from the pleasure awashing her body, she gave up.

“Ariel, I have to go, hon. Let me call you back.”

“Okay. Great to talk to you.”

“Uh-huh,” she panted before hitting the button to end the call. She dropped the phone on the counter beside her leg and reached for Sam’s broad shoulders.

“Damn you,” she muttered as she dug her nails in and flexed her internal muscles about his thickness.

“I thought you could carry on a call when a man was between your legs,” he rumbled around her nipple.

“I did,” she insisted.

He chuckled and released her breast before staring at her face. “Mumbling isn’t carrying on a conversation.”

“I…I didn’t mumble.”

“You totally mumbled.” He brushed their lips together. “That’s one,” he said in a tone that sounded remarkably like a promise.

“One?” Cripes, she could barely follow
this
conversation. She just wanted to give herself over to the pleasure.

“Now I get to fuck you into exhaustion.” He punctuated each word with a slam of his shaft, as far in her as it could go.

She fragmented. When the lights stopped flickering around her eyes and she could open them to focus, she found he’d moved them to her bedroom. His length still deep inside her, he laid her back and began all over again.

* * * *

Roxi stirred and rolled to her side, cracking open her eyes. Sam lay there like her, head propped up by his hand, watching her. The moment their eyes met an arrogant smirk filled his face, lifting those all too entirely kissable lips.

“Stop,” she muttered.

“Why? I got two.”

He sure as hell had. Every single muscle in her body was sore. Every one. Too tired to argue with him, she merely shrugged.

Sam reached out and smoothed back some of her hair, which was plastered to her head. They were both sweat-covered and naked. She touched his chest, trailing her nails down it until she got to his cock, which lay against his thigh. Curling her fingers around it, she grinned when it began to harden.

Stroking, she held his gaze until he became fully erect. Lowering her eyes, she licked her lips and moved her mouth to him. Casting a glance up, she saw the smirk had vanished only to be replaced by even more raw need.

When she succumbed to exhaustion once more she realised something—it wasn’t so bad losing a challenge like that. Not at all. Although Sam was with her when she fell asleep, her bed only boasted one occupant when she woke the following day.

* * * *

Cyber Monday came fast and she was at work early, aware that the day would be a busy one. Her body was still sore but it made her smile as she relived her time on Sunday with Sam. Jules King, her boss, had returned and was waiting for her outside her office.

“Morning, Roxi.”

“Mr King.” She nodded at him, taking in his suit. Impeccably dressed as always. He was a good man, married to his high-school sweetheart with three children, one grandchild and another on the way.

He grinned. “Just can’t bring yourself to call me Jules? A bit odd, don’t you think? I call you Roxi and you call me Mr King.” He waved a hand. “I’m just picking on you. I want to talk to you about the incident Thanksgiving night.”

“Sure. Here? Or in your office?”

“Mine. Drop your things off and come on up.”

“Be right there.” She unlocked the door to her office and stepped in, turning on the lights. After she’d put her stuff away, she took another sip of her coffee and headed to meet her boss.

“Come in and sit down,” he said when she knocked on his door.

She did as instructed then crossed her legs at the knees, waiting for him to speak.

“I wanted to commend you for taking charge when the call came.”

“Doing my job, sir.”

“It was Thanksgiving night and you shouldn’t have had to be called. Do you know why you were?”

She shook her head. “I assumed it was because no one else was available.”

“I’ve fired Mr Delf. That’s why you were called. I want you to take over as the head of security.”

She opened her mouth and he waved her off.

“I know what you’re going to say, you don’t have the seniority as some of the others here. True, you don’t, at least not here in the bank. But you have more when we take into account your time in the Corps. You don’t have to make a decision now. Please let me know by the end of the week at the latest.” He opened his desk and withdrew a packet. “This is what we’re offering you.”

He stood and she followed suit, holding the packet in one hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“No, thank you, Roxi. I’m glad I have someone like you on staff that I can trust so implicitly.”

He walked her to the door and let her go with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder. Back at her office, she debated looking at it now but knew she still had work to do, so she put it with her purse in the drawer and got to it.

At home that evening, she made a bowl of soup. She ate while reading the offer. By the time she climbed into bed, she knew she wouldn’t take until the end of the week to give him her answer. It was a very generous package and she would be wise in accepting.

The next day, she was still in a good mood. The promotion offer and Dean would be home from hospital today. Lifting her cup for a drink of coffee, she paused when her phone rang.

“Yes?”

“Miss Mammon, this is Miss Whyte.”

She knew who it was. From the front desk. “Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you have a visitor. A Mr Hoch.”

Her belly flipped and clenched. Whirling in her chair, she stared at the monitors and honed in on reception. Sure enough, Sam stood there. Straight and proud, not leaning on anything. That familiar reaction her body gave when he was around—or she thought about him—began again and she tried desperately to disregard the throbbing of her clit and the tightening of her nipples. To no avail. It was all too easy to recall the feel of Sam’s touch on her body.

“Miss Mammon?”

She blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll let him know.” She hung up.

Roxi stared at the screen for a few more moments. What could he want? Had something happened to Dean? No, that couldn’t be it. Laila had the day off since Dean was coming home, and surely she would have called him had there been a change.

Won’t know until you get your ass up and go see
.

She got to her feet and headed for the door, doing her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Chapter Eight

Sam sat in the waiting area, legs crossed, leafing through a magazine as he waited for Roxi to appear. He’d missed her like hell. It had taken an amount of control he hadn’t known he possessed to keep himself from remaining at her house. With her. In her bed. In her. Where he belonged.

On Sunday, he had watched her return from her run. Unable to stay away, he’d gone back over and slipped inside. Hearing her on the phone had brought back their conversation at the Christmas tree farm, so Sam continued in to prove that she couldn’t carry on a discussion with someone while he was between her legs. Once that had been demonstrated, he’d moved on to the second bit. Where he’d got to fuck her into exhaustion. Was he arrogant? Hell yes, but he was good. And as he’d lain there beside her, watching over her as she slept like the dead, he couldn’t help but feel smug.

She’d given as good as she’d got, though. The only reason he’d still been awake had been because he loved watching her as she slept. But he’d been tired. Then when she’d woken and had begun the blowjob, he’d known he was officially screwed. Hell, he would have given her anything she wanted so long as she’d continued doing what she was.

Roxi gave herself with such passion. There was no thinking it was all one-sided. She never hedged on her feelings or telling him what she liked. She didn’t hide her sexuality behind a prudish mask. She knew what she wanted and had no problem taking it.

A tingle went up his spine and he glanced up from the magazine he’d not been paying attention to. She walked around the corner and immediately his groin tightened. Putting down the magazine, he got to his feet and watched her approach.

She wore a black pant suit with a single button closure on the long-sleeved jacket with its notched collar. There was studded detail at the waist, emphasising the nice tuck she had. He saw her black shirt beneath it. He dragged his gaze down her body again, noticing her pointy shoes with their tall heels as she strode confidently towards him. Her hair was drawn back in a severe bun and he growled low at that. He liked her hair loose and around her face. Where his hands could sink into it and hold her in place while he…
Okay, have to stop those thoughts.

Her jewellery consisted of the Marine necklace, her usual grouping of earrings but the lowest pair matched—chain drop with a red stone in them—and some rings. When she stopped before him, he expected a cool reception given the way she’d walked across the room towards him—nothing but business.

A warm smile crossed her face and she softened. He, on the other hand, did not. Willing his unruly cock to behave, he returned her smile, aware of the people watching them.

“Hi, Sam. What’s up? Everything okay?” She reached out and touched his arm.

“Yes. Sorry to bother you at work.”

“No bother. What can I do for you?”

“Do you have a minute?”

“Of course.” She glanced to the chairs. “Want to sit?”

He shook his head. “Dean comes home today.”

Her grin brightened the fluorescently lit room as well as his world. “I know, it’s great.”

He nodded. “It is that.”

She cocked her head to the side and looked at him. “You know you’re always welcome, Sam. No need to ask. Just get the key from Laila.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, even though he hated to give her an opportunity to say no.

“Of course I am. You know what, wait here for a minute.”

She walked off without giving him a chance to say anything. It didn’t take her long to return and he hadn’t moved. Back before him, she held out a key. Her key. Her house key.

“Here you go, Sam. That way you can come and go as you please. The second garage opener is in the drawer in the kitchen. You know the one. Put that in your truck as well.”

He closed his fingers around the key and stared at her. Guileless eyes watched him back. Damn, this woman amazed him. “I just—”

“Drop it, Sam. It’s settled. You can stay. I get it. You need to give the room up for Dean but don’t want to be too far from him. I understand. It’s not a problem, really.”

No. That wasn’t all. She didn’t get it. He could see it in her eyes, however, that was her truth and no matter what he said right now wouldn’t change that.

“Thank you, Roxi.”

She smiled again and his heart did that weird flipping thing. “Not a problem, Sam. I have to get back to work. I’ll be home around eight.”

“I should be as well. I’m on my way to Second Chances.” He gave in to his urge to touch her, fingers caressing her upper arm. “Do you want me to bring dinner?”

“It’s in the crockpot so it’ll be ready by then.” She reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips before walking away. “I’ll see you tonight, Sam.”

He’d bet she didn’t even know what she’d done. Key in hand, he turned for the door and spied the tellers watching him. Laila would hear about it from them and she deserved to hear it from him. So he went to her house and walked in.

Laila was busy finishing up cleaning the living room.

“Hey.”

“Hey, there. You gonna be okay getting Dean from the hospital? Or did you want me to come with?”

“We’ll be okay, Sam. I know you’re going to Second Chances.”

“I can step aside for a while to help you if you need it.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m sorry about the couch for you. One of Dean’s brothers used it while they were here.”

“I won’t need it.”

He cleared his throat and she looked up at him from where she wrapped the vacuum cord around the machine. “What are you talking about?”

“I just got back from talking to Roxi. She’s fine with me crashing at her place again. I won’t be far if you need me and the place won’t be crowded.”

Laila crossed her arms and stared at him. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.” At the moment. Yet, he had plans to change that. “She did kiss me at the bank, but”—he rushed on when Laila shot up from the couch—“I don’t think she meant it. She looked really preoccupied.”