Bringing Down Sam (20 page)

Knowing she was pleasing him, Eve moved back up the length of him, but didn’t stop when she reached the top. Licking at the salty drop of fluid seeping from the slit, she opened her mouth wide and took him in.

“Oh, Christ, Eve,” he muttered. His other hand moved to her head; he caressed her face, smoothed his fingertips over her temples, sinking his fingers into her hair.

She turned a little, wanting to take him as deeply as possible, then lowered her mouth, sucking in as much of him as she could. The heated sensuality of the act overwhelmed her—hearing his groans of pleasure, smelling the musk of hot sex they’d created, feeling the slide of his cock against her cheeks and tasting the liquid that seeped from him rocketed the arousal to the atmosphere. 

He let her suck him for a few minutes, until he was good and quivering on the couch, then she realized he was gently pulling her away, dragging her up.

“I wanted to take you all the way,” she mumbled, licking her moist lips.

“I’m not coming in your mouth, not when all I can think about is being inside your sweet, wet pussy.”

The husky, erotic whisper shot straight through her, making her shake. She hooked her thumbs into her panties and pushed them off, then climbed onto his lap, wearing nothing but her short, filmy skirt. It draped across her thighs, and his, cool and silky, such a contrast to hot, slick, sweaty skin. Sam seemed to like the sensuality of it as well, because he dropped his hands to her hips and ran his fingers over the skirt, but made no attempt to take it off her.

Spying the condom he’d removed from his pocket, Eve grabbed it and lifted the packet to her teeth to tear it open. Sam watched, his green eyes glittering with want and approval as she plucked the sheath from the packet and moved it toward the thick erection thrusting up from his lap.

“I can’t believe this actually fits you,” she murmured in wonder as she moved the protection to the thick, purple’ish head of his cock and covered it gently. She rolled it down ever-so-slowly, knowing she was dragging this out, making the moment as erotic as possible. Sam’s jaw had hardened, his teeth clenching a bit, and she knew he was trying to hold on to his self-control, let her do what she wanted. No man had ever done that for her before, her few previous lovers being more the gotta-come-or-die types.

Not Sam. Oh, no, he was as focused on giving her whatever she most wanted as he was on his own pleasure.

What she most wanted was his pleasure. And, of course, her own.

After the protection was in place, she moved closer, straddling him fully, sliding the lips of her sex up the length of him, wetting him with her body’s juices. He lifted a hand and twined it in her hair, pulling her close for a kiss even as he tugged her hip with his other hand. His lips met hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth slowly, in perfect synchronicity with his cock as he pulled her down to take him into her body. They moved slowly, both savoring each inch of connection. And oh, Lord, there were so many inches. So very many.

Eve quivered and sighed, nearly sobbed as pleasure washed over her, waves of it flowing up from the core of her body to fly throughout every inch of her. The joy of it, the perfect rightness of Sam inside her, was all she could think about, all that existed in the world.

Once she was fully impaled on him, Eve dropped her head back, remained very still, breathing deeply, adjusting to the fullness, the joining. Sam waited with her, as if knowing she wanted to just enjoy every single moment, and didn’t try to move.

When she opened her eyes and looked down at him, she saw a tiny smile quirking up the corner of his mouth.

“Good?” he asked, those sparkling eyes telling her he definitely knew the answer to that question.

“So good,” she admitted. Then she rocked her hips, taking him just a little bit deeper, and was rewarded with a husky groan.

“Good for you?” she asked, almost laughing.

He didn’t reply, merely dragging her mouth to his for another hot, hungry kiss as their hips ground and twisted, each wanting to deepen the connection as much as they possibly could. Their thrusts became wild, a little frantic, and Sam dropped his hands to her hips to steady her. But his palms slipped on the slick fabric of her skirt, and he mumbled a frustrated curse.

“Rip it,” she ordered, not caring about the damned skirt, just wanting him gripping her, tightly, digging his fingers into her hips and her ass, demanding, claiming, consuming.

Riiiiiip
. The skirt was off, and he was holding her tightly, just as she’d wanted, helping her plunge down on him again and again. He met every thrust, forcing his way ever deeper into her shuddering body.

“Sam, oh, God, yes,” she cried out. “Let go!”

“You come with me,” he ordered, moving one hand between their bodies, his strong fingers dipping into her slickness and finding her throbbing clit. The moment he touched the sensitive bundle of nerve endings, another orgasm raced through her, practically blowing the top of her head off. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only shake with the delight of it as Sam continued to thrust up, finding his own release in one final, powerful stroke.

Sam didn’t know if Eve had fallen asleep on top of him or if she was merely too weak from their wild and strenuous lovemaking to move. But for several long minutes, she remained sprawled on his chest, naked, warm, her body soft and pliant.

He didn’t blame her. He didn’t want to get up either, feeling too spent, too exhausted, too damn good to move a muscle. So they just stayed where they were, on the couch, still joined, limbs still entwined, shuddery breaths still mingling, hearts thudding in their chests, each beat echoed as if they shared one single organ. 

As his heart stopped thudding and returned to its regular rhythm, he stroked the vulnerable skin at the small of her back, and watched her beautiful, slumbering face. Her breaths began to slow, too, and the flush of color started to recede from her cheeks. She flicked her tongue out to moisten her well-kissed lips, then finally opened her eyes to gaze up at him.

Something like wonder appeared in those blue depths.

A man would offer his soul to have a woman look at him in such a way, Sam realized. To have
this
woman look at him in such a way.

“I don’t know why the French call orgasm the little death,” she whispered. “Frankly, it’s more like being reborn.”

He understood. Because, yes, reaching those amazing heights with her was like finding a whole new life. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “You?”

“Absolutely.” Caressing her bare bottom, he murmured, “Is your hunger completely satisfied now?”

She gave him a wicked look. “It’ll do. For a start.”

Sam chuckled, shifting a little on the sofa so they could lie on their sides, facing each other. “I might need some dinner, to rebuild my strength.”

“What do you say to Chinese food in bed?” she said.

He thought about it. “I dunno, get out and find your own damn bed?”

She tickled his ribs lightly, making him squirm and push at her sweetly punishing hands. “Stop!”

“Ticklish, huh?”

“Never!” Thinking about how the Sam Kenneman who’d written his book would respond, he thrust out his jaw, declaring in a gravelly voice, “Real men aren’t ticklish.”

She guffawed, and renewed her efforts, until he had to flip her onto her back and cover her with his body just to get a moment’s relief. Grabbing her hands, he lifted them over her head, holding her wrists, then pressed his mouth to hers for a hungry kiss.

They were still laughing when it ended, but Sam knew the laughter would fade pretty quickly if they kept kissing and if he stayed on top of her like this.

“Okay, hungry man, get off me so I can feed you,” she insisted.

He nuzzled her neck. “I did have a late lunch.”

She wriggled out from underneath him and got up, walking toward the open kitchen, naked and glorious, to retrieve the bags of food. “I’ll grab some dishes and zap this in the microwave. You pour us some wine and we’ll meet in the bedroom.”

Bed sounded good. Bed sounded just fine, in fact. Dinner in bed, sex in bed, sleeping in bed, more sex in bed, breakfast in bed…the next twelve hours of his life were fully accounted for. And all included Eve and Eve’s bed.

Snapping off a salute, Sam found the wine, the opener and the glasses. Balancing everything, he went into the bedroom, setting things up on a bedside table, then headed for the master bathroom to clean up for dinner. When he came back a few minutes later, he found Eve, clad in a thin robe, sitting on the bed calmly eating a bowl of fried rice.

“You know if you spill that in the bed it could stick in some interesting places,” he said as he took a seat across from her.

She gave him a saucy grin. “Maybe I’ll have to ask you to help me unstick.”

“I don’t know, those pieces of rice are pretty small. Might require some real intense searching to find them all.” He practically leered at her.

“I have the utmost faith in you, Sam. I trust you.”

He wondered if she’d intentionally created the opening. “So talk to me, Eve. If you trust me, then talk to me.”

She paused, lowering her fork back to her plate, and reaching for a wineglass. Taking a sip of the crisp white wine, obviously to fortify herself, she said, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Little Evie,” he said. He saw her wince, and reached out to cup her cheek. “You know I didn’t mean to pry, or to spy on you. But I can’t deny I’m curious about what happened.”

“I know. I guess that’s understandable.”

Wanting to make sure he clarified things, he again insisted, “For the record, you know what you tell me will be just between us.”

“I know that, too,” she replied. “I’m sorry I accused you of writing some kind of story. I sometimes leap to conclusions before thinking things out. I know you wouldn’t be planning some kind of expose on my sordid past.”

Sam accepted the other glass of wine she retrieved from the table and extended toward him. He sipped it, letting her tell her story in her own way, without any prodding from him.

“You’ve read the articles.”

He nodded.

“You know he was convicted.”

“Your father?”

“Yes. He was sentenced to eight years, started serving his sentence a few months before I started college.”

“Did you go to school nearby?”

“Right here in Philadelphia,” Eve admitted. “Once he went to prison, I sold everything I had left, hopped on a bus and came south on I-95. I got a job working at a photography studio, made enough to pay my way through school at night.”

Sam asked the question he’d wondered about earlier. “What about your mother?”

“She left when I was about five. After my father was arrested, she contacted me. She had remarried and was living with her husband and their three children in southern California.”

“Why didn’t you go there?”

Eve shrugged. “I’d grown up without her. I didn’t want to depend on her—on anyone—for anything. I have gone out and visited her a few times. My three younger siblings are a real handful.”

Sam listened for a note of resentment in her voice, but heard none. She apparently didn’t blame her mother for walking out when Eve was so young. Considering how difficult he’d found it to forgive his father for what he’d done to his mother, Sam didn’t know if he could have been as generous of spirit.

Sam brushed a few loose strands of golden hair out of Eve’s eyes. “So you don’t resent her? For leaving you, I mean?”

She thought about it, slowly replying, “Not really. Maybe when I was younger. Once I figured out the kind of life she’d had with my father, I understood why she left. And I know there was no way he’d ever have let her take me, even if she’d wanted to.”

“I’m sure she did.”

Eve shrugged. “She says so.” A tired smile crossed her face. “Anyway, been there, done that, over it.”

 “And where’s your father now?” he asked.

“Miami. He was paroled after five years. Once he understood he wasn’t going to be able to hit me up for any money, or guilt me into helping him out, he found a very wealthy older woman, married her and moved to Florida. She’s a shrew and keeps him on a leash, but he’s happy as long as he gets his monthly allowance.”

“Do you see him?”

She shook her head, looking away “No. I don’t hate him. But I don’t see him, either. It’s better that way.”

Sam helped himself to some fried rice and an egg roll. “And now, for perhaps less than ethical reasons, you’ve found yourself back in front of a camera.” When she opened her mouth, as if to apologize again, he waved her words away. That wasn’t why he’d mentioned it. “I’m only wondering if you liked it. If you ever see yourself doing any professional modeling again.”

She didn’t answer right away, obviously thinking about it. Finally, she sighed. “I liked it a little, I guess. But no, I would never try to get back into that life.”

“You’re completely happy and fulfilled?”

She lifted a flirtatious brow. “Right now? Oh, yes. Now, since we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s talk about something else. I’m sure there are much more interesting things we could discuss.”

He liked that light-hearted flirtation, liked the smile pulling at her lips and the good humor dancing in her blue eyes. “Oh, really? Like what?”

She nodded toward the open door leading into the enormous master bathroom. “Did you happen to notice the huge sunken tub?”

He nodded. “I did.”

She licked her lips, letting her robe fall off one shoulder as she shimmied off the bed. “There’s some bubble bath in there, too.”

He was definitely catching the picture. “Any candles lying around this place?”

She nodded. “I’m sure I could dig up a few.”

“I’ll carry the wine,” he said as he slid off the bed and refilled their glasses. “You find the candles.” Then, snapping his fingers as he remembered something else, he said, “Oh, Eve? Just one more thing.”

“Hmh?”

Not even trying to keep the wicked humor out of his voice he asked, “Can you remember the words to the Tub-a-Bubble jingle you used to sing in the commercials?”

Her eyes widened, then the nearest pillow came sailing across the bed.