Temporary Home (6 page)

“Okay. Come on, Sam.”

He went, pausing by Roxi. Gone was any trace of passion and he wanted it back on her face. He almost spoke but Laila came back and dragged him away to the door leading from the house to the garage.

“You drive, Sam.”

“Okay.”

As they left the house, he peered over his shoulder to spy Roxi leaning against the wall, watching him. The hunger was back. When he met her gaze she turned away. They got in his truck and headed to the hospital.

We’re far from finished, Roxanne Mammon.

Laila was talking and he reluctantly left thoughts of Roxi and how amazing it had been being in her wetness, to focus on the woman in the truck with him.

* * * *

Life really sucked. Roxi had come to that decision the second Laila’s voice had ended the most intense sex-against-the-wall she’d ever had.
And only his fingers were deep inside me. Imagine what it would be like once his cock is there.

She swiped her card, picked the gasoline needed for her vehicle, and, shaking off thoughts of Sam, filled the tank. There was a bite in the afternoon’s air but that couldn’t even begin to cool down the fire in her blood Sam had started.

True to her word, she’d gone by the hospital to see Master Guns. Sam and Laila had still been there. Dean and his two half-brothers had been nowhere to be seen. Laila had been in Sam’s arms, crying against his chest.

Roxi had only stayed a short time. She could feel the intensity of Sam’s gaze even though she’d left the hospital. Hell, her body remained primed and ready.

Her nipples were beaded and so tight they almost hurt. Her clit was hypersensitive to the point where walking seemed only to arouse her more. She would be giving herself an orgasm just from the memory of Sam’s touch if she wasn’t careful.

Laila and Sam were going out to dinner, so Roxi would eat alone after she got home. She didn’t mind—she could stand calming down. First through, she had another stop to make. Once the car was filled, she grabbed her receipt and headed on her way. There was no rush and she listened to some Gladys Knight & The Pips as the drive continued. Turning off on a side street, she parked behind her destination building. She waited until Gladys finished singing
Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me
before she exited the car and strode around to the front door.

“Hey, Roxi!” a few called out as she walked through the tables.

“Good evening,” she replied with a smile.

“Roxi, I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

She glanced to her left and saw Juan Vargas standing there. He was a good-looking man who’d served in Vietnam and he ran this soup kitchen.

She smiled at him. “I said I’d be in today. Sorry I missed most of the serving. I’ll just get started on the dishes.”

Juan appeared like he wanted to say something but he didn’t. He nodded before going to talk to a few of the regulars. When he’d sat in a chair, she migrated to the kitchen, drew on an apron and tackled the stack of dishes heaped by the triple sink.

It took her longer than she’d anticipated, so she was extremely hungry as she drove home. Sam’s truck was in the garage and she wondered if he was here or over at Laila’s, where the lights had shone brightly through the dark.

She made her way slowly to the door and pushed into the house. The only light was the one she’d left on in the hall. Closing the door behind her, she then went to her room, readying her things for tomorrow. When she stepped from her master bathroom after washing up she froze.

Sam stood there in a pair of workout pants—black with white piping—that hung low on lean hips. That was it. Nothing else existed to keep her gaze from ogling the specimen that was his body. Tautly muscled, tanned and mouth-watering.

Don’t forget panty-wetting
.

He stood in her bedroom doorway, a white shirt hanging from his fist. His eyes held her prisoner—that intense blue pinned her to the spot, it was as if she’d grown roots.

Hunger
. That was the only word she could think of to explain what she saw in his face. Raw, animalistic hunger.

Then he moved. Flowed towards her with intent and single-minded purpose. He tossed his shirt to the side with a flick of his wrist and never slowed as he bore down on her. He grabbed her upper arms and jerked her so her breasts brushed his naked torso. She felt no fear, only arousal.

“One chance to say no,” he rumbled.

That was the furthest word from her mind.
Hell yes
,
now
, and
take me
were much closer to slipping free.

She had wanted him since she’d first seen him at Laila’s house. And, true, it wasn’t that far back, but she knew sometimes a person just had to follow their gut.

For an answer, she pulled free from his hands, reached up and wound her arms around his neck. “Yes,” she whispered.

He cupped her face then kissed her. Man, did he kiss her. His lips covered hers and his tongue delved into her mouth. She moaned at the invasion, arching closer. He stroked her tongue, coaxing it to tangle with his. He tasted like
man
, she didn’t know to put it any other way.

He took control of the kiss and increased its intensity. Her legs shook and she dug her fingers into the back of his head and one shoulder. Sam broke the kiss and reached for the hem of her shirt. She stood still as he pulled it off. Her skin felt on fire from the heated way he stared at her. Clad in her black bra and the jeans she’d worn in the afternoon—and a pair of socks—she still felt naked.

“Beautiful,” he said, reaching out to trail his index finger over the exposed swells of her breasts.

He traced both of his hands down her sides, the tuck of her waist and joined them at the button of her jeans. She wanted to rush him, but she held still and tried to wait. He pulled her jeans down her legs and she lifted each foot when he tapped the ankles. His warm breath fanned her belly button and lower. Her stomach clenched with her anticipation.

“So beautiful.”

He trailed his hands up her legs until he regained his feet and held her hips. Sam watched her from behind hooded eyes. He freed her breasts and swiped his thumbs over her taut tips.

“Ohh,” she said with a shudder.

Those damn eyes flashed from her breasts up to her face. And he did it again. And again. Wetness soaked her panties as he continued to knead her breasts.

When he lowered his head and drew a nipple into his mouth, she arched her back, crying his name. He suckled hard and she pressed his head closer as with each lave of his tongue or nip of teeth, she felt a corresponding tug on her clit. She didn’t know how much more she could take. And they both still had clothes on. Not many, but some.

“Sam,” she gasped, rocking against him, needing something else.

He stood up and raked his burning gaze over her again. A bit light-headed, she licked her lips and reached for his waistband. She captured her lower lip in her teeth while she slid his pants down and he stepped free of them, leaving him exposed in his navy blue boxers. They couldn’t hide his erection.

Her pussy contracted. She anticipated having him deep inside her. She reached out and cupped him—his hips bucked, pushing more of his length into her palm.

Shit. He is large. Not to mention thick.
She nearly had her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she panted. Going slow was no longer an option for her.

“Strip, Marine.”

He wasted no time and removed his boxers. She was transfixed on his cock rising from a thatch of black hair. Her eyes fluttered with her increased heartbeat. He gripped himself and slowly stroked his shaft during the time he stared at her.

“Lose them.”

His voice was gravelly and trailed along her skin like warmed crushed velvets and silk. Goose bumps popped as she hooked her thumbs in the band of her panties and shimmied free.

Approval and increased hunger spread across his face. She blinked and he was there. Holding her. Kissing her. Laying her back upon the bed.

His hard, muscled body covered hers, the mattress cushioning them. She widened her legs, allowing him to settle more firmly between her thighs. Good Lord, he felt perfect there.

In and out his tongue moved as he positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. She whimpered and wriggled beneath him, desperate for him to be in her.

Finally. He slowly filled her. Electricity spiked throughout her and she gasped. It had been so long and he felt
so
damn good.

He drew back and stared down at her, holding still. She knew he wanted to make sure she was okay, the question in his eyes in place of words on his lips. She slid her arms up under his and gripped his shoulders.

“Move, Sam.”

A low rumble left him as he began to thrust. She undulated with him, legs aiding in her motions. Back and forth. In and out. Faster and faster he powered, only to slow—pulling her back from the cusp only to begin all over again. He never spoke and she didn’t mind.

Her mewls and groans danced around them along with the sounds of their bodies coming together in the age-old dance. He nibbled her collarbone and stimulated her tight nipples. Flames burst throughout her.

“Oh…Sam…I…so…” She tossed her head on the sheet, back arching to take him deeper.

He shifted an arm under her left leg, hitching it higher. The added angle allowed him even more penetration. His face was set in a mask, jaw clenched and sweat upon his brow.

Thrust after thrust sent her catapulting towards the cliff. Closer and closer it raced. Bearing down on her. She tightened her internal muscles and watched pleasure ripple across his features.

She closed her eyes and embraced the rush. Jumped headlong into the euphoria awaiting her. He powered into her three more times before his low roar filled the air. His seed erupted from his cock, bathing her pussy. His release triggered another of her own and she came again, milking his cock and screaming his name as he continued to piston his hips.

Sam slowed and pressed a kiss to her temple. If she had the energy, she would have stretched and purred like a cat. She didn’t. Their slick bodies lay intertwined. She closed her eyes while he rose up from her and withdrew from her heat. Instantly cooler, Roxi refrained from reaching for him.

He got up and she bit back any words and her hurt of his leaving. There had been no promises. No words of love. Hell, there’d been barely any words at all.

Grow up, Roxi
. With slitted eyes, she watched Sam draw on his boxers and walk from the room. She didn’t know how to explain the emotions racing through her. Her tongue sneaked out and licked her lips as she fought back her shock at the realisation they’d not used a condom.
Shit. What the hell do I do or say now?
She wasn’t ready to think about carrying a child.

The hall light went dark and she released a sigh. Tomorrow was time enough to deal with the possibility of being pregnant. She wriggled her way under the covers, feeling chilled without Sam’s added body heat and the lingering sweat on his body pressed to hers. The click of her bedroom door had her lowering lids snapping open—she’d thought he’d left her for the night. No sound and yet she
knew
he was there. Sure enough, a bit later the bed dipped beneath his weight and he joined her below the blankets.

He trailed one hand up her arm and over her lips. Her body prepared for more.

“Where’d you go?” she asked, reaching for him, thrilled to find him hard and naked in her bed once again. “I thought you were leaving.”

His lips found hers and he kissed her as he slipped one hand between her thighs and teased her clit. She widened her legs, inviting more. Craving more.

Moments later the broad head of his sheathed cock filled her and she moaned in pure bliss. Once he sat fully embedded in her, he nuzzled her ear.

“Locked up. I’m not finished with you yet, not even close. I also grabbed some condoms. I should have had one last time, I’m sorry.”

Damned if it wasn’t the longest sentence she’d ever got from him. Her reply turned into a groan once he began to move. It didn’t matter. All that did was he was here with her. Condom, no condom, she didn’t give a damn right about now. He flexed his hips again and she gave herself over to all that he could give her.

* * * *

Roxi stirred slightly, her internal clock going off. In seconds she realised a few things. Sam was still in her bed with her, he was asleep, and she was sore. In a very good way.

Sam lay pressed against her, his face in the crook of her neck and one arm draped across her midsection. Opening her eyes, she listened to his deep, even breathing during the time she adjusted to the dark. Content, she had to remind herself a few times to move.

She extracted herself slowly and carefully, not wanting to wake him. He didn’t strike her as a man who got a lot of sleep. Swiping the clothing she’d set out last night to wear, she slipped from the room and shut the door behind her.

After a quick shower in the other bathroom, she was dressed and in the kitchen by the time Laila walked over to join her for their morning walk.

Chapter Four

Sam went from dead to the world to wide awake in the space of a single heartbeat. His heart pounded and he struggled not to panic. It had been so long since he’d slept so deeply. He calmed as it came to him.

Roxi’s house. But more than that,
better.
Roxi’s bed. Where he’d spent the night. Blissfully.

He reached for her, only came up empty. Sitting in bed, he glanced around for her. She wasn’t even in the room, not just not in bed. Late autumn morning sun streamed in, lighting the area. Resting back against the wall at the head of her bed, he took in her personal space. Honestly, he’d not thought about looking around when he‘d entered last night.

Her walls were done in a mint green with chocolate trim. The colour scheme matched the furniture and bedding. Not a lot of clutter. He smiled as another memory of last night and early this morning travelled through his mind.