On the sidewalk in front of the hotel, I teasingly say, “Why does it matter if Gabe won’t be back for hours?”
In a whirl of movement, I quickly find myself pressed against the building. “Because ever since I’ve been with you, you’re the only woman I truly want,” he growls into my ear.
“It was just last week,” I gasp as he rubs against me and drags his lips across the skin of my jaw.
He steps back, his gaze burning into me. “It’s been years.”
I nearly gasp again, shocked that he’s wanted me for so long. I’m suddenly warm all over; my knees have the consistency of pudding, as wobbly as the zabaglione I make at the restaurant.
He grabs my hand again and we rush through the lobby to the elevator. Sam glances with evident irritation at the other couple going up as we’re forced to wait as they slowly exit at their floor with suitcases. When the doors slide open again, we make it down the hall in seconds. He quickly slips the card into the lock, pulls me inside, hooks the chain, and pushes me against the back of the door.
His hands hold mine, pressing them to the door above my head. His mouth on mine is slow, his tongue languid as he seductively explores my mouth. His hold on my hands keeps me up, keeps me from sliding down the door and collapsing onto the carpet.
He breaks away, continuing to grasp one of my hands. “We’re going to do this right for once.”
I blink innocently and let him gently pull me along. He backs up, leading me farther into the room, which is lit only by the lamp on the desk. As we move, I step out of my flip-flops. “We’ve been doing it wrong?” I run my fingers along the low-riding waistband of his shorts. “Because it felt pretty damn right. Both times,” I add with a naughty grin.
After placing a condom on the bed, he grins back at me and reaches for the bottom of my shirt. “It’s going to feel more right naked.” He pulls the shirt off over my head. With the tank top hanging from his fingertips, he stares at my lacy bra. “Very pretty.”
He drops the shirt, then starts to slowly run his fingertips from my belly button to the clasp in between my breasts. His touch on my skin drives me wild but I try to stay still. He unhooks the bra with slightly shaking fingers. While he watches, his hands millimeters from my skin, I tug the straps from my shoulders and the bra drops to the floor.
“Even prettier,” he says from a throat that sounds dry.
Between his stare and his tone, I’m already flushed. It’s so easy being with him, so natural, we may not make it to fully naked for the third time. But I’m really, really liking this naked thing. I tug on his T-shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine. I’m utterly, totally, unconscious about being naked in front of him. I trust him. I feel safe, accepted, and desired. Every time his hot blue gaze lingers on me, I feel like the sexiest woman on earth.
He bends down and catches a breast in his mouth, and without thinking, I jump toward him. He holds me by one hip as his mouth moves to my other breast. His free hand lightly caresses my ribs, spreading more fire. As his tongue and teeth wreak havoc on my breasts, my hands wind through his curls and grip his head.
When he releases a nipple, I reach for the bottom of his shirt again.
“My turn,” I say, yanking his shirt. He lifts his arms, bending forward and letting me pull the fabric up and over his curls. I step back and take him in. Smooth skin over defined muscles. All male. All hot. “Very pretty,” I say, copying him. I’m not surprised my voice sounds as dry as his did.
Sam’s eyes become heavy lidded. His gaze burns into mine as my hands roam over him. His skin is as hot as his stare. After exploring the contours of his chest, my fingers trail over the ledges of his abs and reach for the button of his shorts. His stomach muscles ripple, but he doesn’t move as I push his shorts and boxers down.
He kicks off his shoes, then steps out of the clothes around his ankles and stands naked before me.
I break our locked gazes to get a look at him. Damn. He’s gorgeous. All muscle and obvious ridged desire for me. Naked is good. Real good. Awesomely good. I reach for him, but he grabs me, his hands diving for my waistband.
“My turn,” he says, unbuttoning my shorts. Like me, he pushes both my shorts and underwear down. Unlike me, he kneels on the floor, his gaze slowly moving up my body, as I stand naked, basking in his admiring stare.
“Beautiful,” he says, looking up at me, and my breath catches. Standing, he slides his hands from my ankles up to my thighs. His thumbs brush my mound, and the jolt of desire hits me like the blast of music when I come around the stage. His thumbs tease me. I begin to quiver and sway. Then his hands settle on my hips, and I can halfway think again. He gently pushes me until the back of my knees hit the bed.
Grinning, he wraps his hands around my waist. He gives me a wet hot kiss, then twists me around. He falls back onto the bed, dragging me with him. Gasping at the contact of his warm skin on mine, I sprawl on top of him. I push up on my palms, but he grips my head and pulls me down again until our lips are inches apart.
“I’ve spent a lot of time imagining this. Your luscious body on mine,” he says hotly against my lips. “But being skin to skin with you is even better than I imagined.” He catches my lower lip and sucks on it for a moment until we’re joined in a full, deep kiss.
Lost in the sensation of his mouth, I groan slightly as his hands slide over my back to cup my butt, causing my skin to burn with desire. With a slight shift of my hips, he fits me to him, and we both groan at the contact. We kiss and pant and rub until, with shaky fingers, he slides on the condom, then slides into me.
With me above him, I try to move slowly but a building pressure quickens our motion. Like before, I’m mindless, with the needs of our bodies having us following and answering each other without thought. When he rolls us over and rises above me, his arms cradling my head, his gaze boring into mine, my lust-crazed mind not only reads but accepts what his eyes are telling me. I’m his.
I’ve always been his.
Chapter 29
I stare at the dark skyline speckled with the lights of Pittsburgh as Sam runs his fingers through my hair. Sitting on a patio chair on the balcony, we’re wrapped in a sheet. I’m in his lap with my back pressed to his chest and my head on his shoulder. Both content, we’ve been sharing the view in silence.
Sam digs his nose into my hair and breathes in the scent. “You know you’re perfect, right?” he asks, breaking the silence.
A deep, self-deprecating laugh escapes me. “I don’t think so.”
He pulls me closer, places his warm hand on my breast, and gently squeezes. “Perfect.”
“Breasts do not make a woman perfect,” I say with a nervous laugh, and push his hand away.
“They’re the first of many perfect things.” He kisses me behind my ear.
Though we’re in shadows from the light coming from the lamp inside the room, I twist my head and look up at him. “Don’t put me on some crazy-ass pedestal. I’m so not perfect. We both know I can be a bitch.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “I like a woman with spunk.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m stubborn.”
“I’d call it principled, strong,” he says, grinning.
“I’m oblivious and totally dense sometimes.”
His teeth shine white as he smiles down at me. “That’s just plain cute.”
I shake my head. No, it’s not. Being oblivious to everyone’s feelings except my own is partly why I unknowingly hurt him in the past. As he grins at me again, I realize I want him to know everything about me, even the self-absorbed parts of me. Being with Bryce was just about having someone around to have a good time with. Being with Sam is all or nothing.