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Authors: Fiona Murphy

BOOK: A Favor
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He’d worked in a bank and been very serious and restrained, even in the bedroom. He hadn’t been a bad lover, he had been unselfish but passion was seriously lacking. At first that had relieved me, and then slowly, it had bored me. Troy had a five year plan, written down and then crossed off. I had been in the right place at the right time for his five year plan and he’d asked me to move in on our two year anniversary and he’d made it clear the next step would be marriage. After a year, if all went well, he would propose. Then for our fourth year together we would marry. After two years, we would have two children, three years apart. As I sat listening to him layout my life for me, I hadn’t been able to say a word.

When he’d finished, sounding quite proud, of himself I had only been able to murmur I needed to think about it. I’d gone home and simply laid in bed turning over his words for hours. A small part of me had actually considered saying yes. Knowing he thought that far ahead and saw me in his future had been comforting. Still, the almost cold and clinical way he’d gone through his plans step by step had me wondering would any woman have done?

Then I thought of all the small things he’d done to change me during our relationship. It wasn’t until that moment I realized I hadn’t been as confident and unwilling to be led as I thought. The changes had come slowly and gradually and I had told myself it was for the better. Troy had molded me into what he wanted, and what really pissed me off was, I let him.

When we’d met I’d been a size ten, and had felt comfortable in my body but I knew that on a small frame like mine it might appear to a bit more than on a tall person. Troy had talked me into going for runs, and hiking, all of which I hated but told myself couples did to spend time together. He’d been way too happy when I’d gone down a size. I had resented his overly soothing tone when he walked me through the aisles of the grocery store telling me why I shouldn’t buy one thing or another. He didn’t like it when I was dirty when I painted and that I walked around the house barefoot instead of wearing the slippers he’d bought me.

I hadn’t been able to wait, it didn’t matter that it was close to midnight I banged on his condo door and told him I was sorry but no. Was it the late hour and that I had disturbed his sleep that had made him so angry? I don’t know but he wasn’t the crisp and tidy Troy he’d always been. He’d unleashed a torrent of anger and fire at me. Just remembering the words has me shivering, I had no idea he could be the way he’d been that night. I snuggle closer into Sam’s heat comforted by the feel of him against me.

My hand moves in a slow caress over him, loving the freedom to touch him while he sleeps. What if in six months or two years, I hurt Sam the way I’d hurt others and he hates me for it? But what if I could change and not be empty and cold anymore? Already I felt empty when he wasn’t close, his touch warmed me in ways I hadn’t known a simple touch could. It didn’t matter I’ve known him all of two days I feel more comfortable with him than I had with anyone I’d ever known, even Christine. I feel safe with him, as if I can say anything, be anyway with him and he’d take me as I am without trying to change me.

Charles had used me sexually and, sometimes I felt like his toy to be used for his pleasure. Sam had only given me pleasure and not asked for anything back. I’m not stupid enough to think that wouldn’t change but he’d been gentle and extremely intent on my pleasure, not his own. Tracy hadn’t thought I was feminist in my ideals enough, and pushed me to try and see men and the secret dream I had of being nothing but a housewife and mother as a way of keeping women down. Troy had made me feel like he wanted and deserved a platinum partner but was willing to settle for the silver plating he would put on me.

On the drive to Austin, all of the bad habits I had listed hadn’t caused him to blink. My sarcasm had him laughing instead of annoyed. He hadn’t been bothered by me being dirty from painting, he’d found me so sexy he’d wanted to bend me over the table. He hadn’t cooked just because I said I didn’t like to cook, he had cooked to please me. Italian was my favorite food, I don’t remember listing it but from his interrogation efforts it would have come easily. Remembering that still makes me smile, if sex was all he was after, would a man really put so much effort into it? I want to think no but I’m not sure as I obviously don’t know as much about men as I thought I did. He’d teased me but never put me down, never made me feel small to make himself bigger, both Troy and Charles had done that, hell Tracy had as well.

He seems genuinely interested in my art and intent on me doing something with it. No one had ever encouraged my art since I was a teenager, not even Christine. Sam wouldn’t want me to change who I am but he’d demand all of me, everything I had to give, I have that sense about him. Was that why he hadn’t taken unless I gave, because when the time came I would have to give him all? It doesn’t scare me because I know he’d give it back, he wasn’t out simply to take. But what did I really have to give him, besides my body?

“Don’t,” The gruff, sleep soaked word is followed by a gentle finger smoothing out the lines on my forehead. “I don’t want you thinking too much about this. Just enjoy it baby. Would that be so bad?”

Looking into Sam’s beautiful blue eyes, I force my fears down and can only answer by laying back on his chest and hugging him closer.

“Good girl, damn just after six in the morning. Thank you, baby, I haven’t slept a stretch like this in years and it feels damn good.”

“You really slept all night long?” It feels good to know I was the reason.

“All night, haven’t done that in years. Since waking up in the hospital the longest I’ve gone is about four hours, this was all you. But now that I’m awake you better get up and get ready for work because the feeling of you all up against me is turning out to be very painful.” To prove his words, his hands slide down to my hips and pull me against his very impressive bulge.

I can’t fight the blush and can’t move away, I don’t want to move away, I press back against him. Sam stills and then his eyes darken, finally he moves. His hand slides under my shirt and I sigh at the feel of his skin on mine, warm and tingling my skin wants more, I want more. He moves slowly as if expecting me to call a halt but I don’t, it feels too good. Pressing a kiss against his chest he trembles and knowing I can have that affect on him sends a thrill through me. Then his hand cups my breast and his thumb sweeps over a tight nipple and his name is a gasp of air. Last night when he’d touched me, almost the same way but over my shirt as I fell asleep I’d fought the urge to press against him, but I’d been too scared. Now I called myself a fool for my fear.

“Sam, yes, more please.”

His hands keep moving up and taking my shirt with him, I move to help him take it off and then reach out for his shirt but he stops me. One large hand traps my wrists and pull them up, over my head. “No, Zoe, you touch me and I can’t think.”

I open my mouth to protest but then his mouth covers my nipple and sucks deep as his tongue teases the aching tight bud.

“I wanted to bend you over my lap and heat your sweet little ass for coming out last night without a bra and making me hard as a rock for you but watching them react to me was worth it. I loved it, they would pucker up for me and beg for my mouth, so damn beautiful.” He moves to my other breast but his free hand continues to pleasurably assault the nipple aching for his mouth, he plucks and teases and between that and his mouth on my other breast, I’m mindless in need. My hips are bucking up, begging for what I can’t say out loud.

“Yes, baby, I know what you want. Not just yet, I need some more time with these gorgeous tits of yours. So sensitive, yes, you can take it, just a little more.” His tongue teases and his mouth taunts, when teeth nip at me, I almost come. I’m hanging on the edge and I’m stunned because he’s nowhere near my clitoris. Then he soothes, licking gently and moves back to my other breast. This time he suckles hard with multiple flicks of his tongue, just as he had with my clitoris and I fall over the edge of my climax in a shocking rush. I’m shocked, I can’t believe it.

A hand strokes up and down my inner thigh as I come down from the exhilaration of my climax. I try to move my hands, aching to touch him. “Sam please, I want to touch you. I want to taste you.”

He ignores me, his only reaction is to tighten his grip on my wrists. His other hand moves higher up my inner thigh and finds me so wet the back of my skirt is soaked and he let out a hiss of breath in approval. “No panties, you are so fucking perfect. So wet for me baby, I love how wet you get. You make my dick ache. You make me high from the smell of you.”

I’m so wet he is able to fit three large fingers inside me and he pumps fast in and out of me and sends me toward another orgasm. His mouth fastens back onto my breast and I hit my orgasm so quickly it verges on pain. I’m completely limp in his arms.

In a daze, fighting to keep my eyes open, I watch Sam lick me from his fingers. He does it slowly, as if he is savoring the taste of me, our eyes are locked until he finishes.

“You have sweetest pussy I have ever tasted. Thank you, baby.”

He had let go of my hands at some point and before his words would have shocked me, I would have blushed. Now I revel in his words, in his enjoyment of my body. A hand slides over his cheek and he turns into my touch. The peaceful quiet is broken by the alarm on my phone going off and I swear, this isn’t fair.

Sam leans down kisses my cheek, “It’s okay, baby.”

“No, it’s not, Sam. I want to touch, please.” My hands slides down his cheek to his chest and my pussy clenches at the feel of his skin beneath my hand.

He moves so fast my head swims, in confusion, one minute we’re on the couch and the next I’m up in his arms being walked to my room. “Zoe, I want you very much but it’s not going to be something quick and fast. When we make love it’s going to be slow and easy and not with a clock on us. Get ready for work.”

Sliding me down his body I feel just how hard he is for me and I cling until he moves away. The door to my room closes with a soft click and a moan of longing escapes me.

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

“Can I help you?” I ask when I find him in the kitchen preparing what looks like another scramble, like he had made yesterday.

Shaking his head, he smiles. “Not a good idea, have a seat, it’ll be a few minutes.”

Sad, but understanding I nod and get a cup of coffee and sit and watch him work from the kitchen table. A few minutes later and he’s setting down a plate for each of us. We eat quietly and quickly, the quiet feels comfortable between us. He finishes before me and rinses his plate and puts it in the dishwasher along with the other items he used. I’m only a few minutes behind him and I’m drying my hands when he comes back from his room.

“Can I bother you tonight? I need to go shopping, I didn’t pack much. Taylor said jeans, cargoes and tee shirts are fine for training but I only brought along two pairs of jeans and two tee shirts.”

“Sure that won’t be a problem. Let me guess from that look on your face you don’t like to shop and we’ll be in and out in fifteen minutes?”

“Yes, like most men I hate shopping.”

“I understand and I agree. Unlike most women, I hate shopping but I think we’ll get through it.”

“Thanks.”

The drive isn’t so bad this morning and we make it there quickly. It’s not until we’re in the elevator and the numbers are lighting up it hits me, and I stiffen. The elevators open on the fifth floor and I step out tugging my lip from inside my mouth. My worry is so deep I’m barely aware of Sam pulling me close until he presses his lips against mine gently.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“What if Dr. Keno says no? Taylor won’t care how bad he needs you, if Dr. Keno doesn’t think it’s a good idea he’ll say no.”

“It will be fine. Yeah, I was diagnosed with PTSD but I also had some great therapists and EMDR that helped. Taylor told me Keno specializes in that, he’ll know all of it.

I don’t regret what happened or the way my career ended. I’d do it all again without hesitation. My regrets are about what happened before I went into the Army and that won’t keep me from doing my job.”

I’m so relieved I sag against him. His hands go into my hair and he pulls me up for a kiss. It was supposed to be a kiss of reassurance but it went much hotter than that very quickly. After this morning, I’m done hiding my need and want from him and myself. I kiss him the way I’ve been longing to since that first day. Greedy and hungry for the taste of him, our tongues tangle but as he’s about to pull away I claim his tongue and suck him deep into my mouth. He growls low in his chest and I’m thrilled at the reaction until his hands tighten painfully around my arms. I moan in pain and instantly he pulls away, his hands falling to my waist.

We are both gasping for breath and his head is against mine, “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Just give me a minute here.”

His breath is shaky and my knees are barely holding me up, I understand completely and try not to be smug about how badly Sam wants me. He’s so beautiful, scars and all and he wants me so badly he’s trembling with it. If nothing else, he’s doing amazing things for my self-confidence.

When the elevator pings open I take in a sharp breath and step back.

“Zoe, Sam, good morning. Dr. Keno’s waiting for you, just around the corner. Zoe, Elissa made pretty good headway on Robert’s prospect, you won’t need to do much more on it.” Taylor keeps walking and my eyes follow him, wondering what he saw when the doors opened. I turn to follow him and then remember Sam. Quickly, I go up on my tip toes to kiss his cheek and then I follow Taylor.

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

I’ve barely hit my chair, all my thoughts on Sam and his session, when Taylor tries to get my attention.

“Zoe, hey, Zoe are you alright?”

Taylor is in front of my desk and I’m trying to focus on him. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. I’ll finish the calls on this guy. Thanks for letting me off early yesterday, by the way.”

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