Compromising Positions (6 page)

Amelia slipped her fingers through his hair and wriggled beneath him until their bodies fit against each other. Hips to hips, legs tangled, her breasts pressed flat beneath the weight of his chest. He caught her hands and held them above her head as he nuzzled her neck.

“I know what you're trying to do,” he whispered.

“You do? Would you like to tell me? I really want to get this right,” Amelia said.

He pulled back, meeting her gaze with a smile. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Sam dropped a kiss on her lips. “Not a clue.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” Amelia said. “My mother always used to say that grace and confidence were always more important than beauty. So, I kind of knew from an early age that I wasn't a ravishing beauty.”

“Your mother was stupid and blind,” he said.

“That's nice of you to say.”

He kissed her again, his lips lingering over hers. Amelia tried to pull him back on top of her, but he grabbed her waist and rolled over, settling her legs on either side of his hips.

She could feel he was hard beneath the faded denim of his jeans, the ridge of his erection pressing against the spot between her legs. Amelia could almost imagine away the clothes they wore. How would it feel to toss aside the barriers between them and indulge in all the pleasures they could stand?

With him, she did feel beautiful. Was that all part of the fantasy? Or did he really see her differently than she saw herself?

Amelia reached down to grab the hem of her sweater, but before she could pull it over her head, Sam stopped her.

“Don't,” he said.

Amelia stared at him for a long moment, trying to read his expression. “I...I thought you—”

“If you take your clothes off, then I'm going to want to take my clothes off and then all sorts of things are going to happen.”

“And that would be a bad thing?” Amelia asked.

He braced his hands behind him and sat up. “I'm afraid it would give you an advantage,” Sam said, a grin twitching his mouth.

“An advantage?”

“Yes. I'd probably want to please you in any way that I could. Then you'd ask for the bed and I'd feel compelled to give it to you.”

“You think I'm trying to seduce you so you'll give me the bed?”

“Aren't you?” Sam asked.

“No!” she cried. Amelia scrambled out of the bed, pulling a pillow along with her as if it might provide some protection from his accusations. “I wouldn't do something like that. You might, but I wouldn't.” She had considered it but eliminated the possibility when she realized that it wasn't who she wanted to be.

Amelia inhaled a ragged breath. “It probably wouldn't even work,” she murmured.

“What?”

“Seducing you,” she said. “Me seducing you.”

His eyebrow arched as he watched her. “No? Why not?”

“I just wouldn't be very good at it. I wouldn't know what to do. I...I've never really seduced a man before.”

He rolled onto his side and braced his arm beneath his head. “I'm not so sure. I think if you just stood there and tried to
look
sexy, that would probably get the majority of men a little hot. Of course, if you got rid of the pillow and took off your clothes, it would be a done deal.”

With a frustrated growl, Amelia threw the pillow at his head. It hit him squarely in the face. Then she stepped to the side of the bed and pulled back the covers. “Get out of my bed,” she ordered.

“My bed.”

“Our bed.”

“The bed,” he finally said with a chuckle.

“Get out of
the
bed. I don't want you to sleep here.”

“You don't have a choice,” Sam said. “I'm not going to leave you alone here now.” He patted the mattress. “Now, get back into bed.”

This was ridiculous. She was fighting her attraction to him and he was playing some silly game with her. The last thing she was thinking about when she kissed him was the ownership of the bed beneath them. In truth, the bed was becoming far less important to her than the man in it.

Amelia pulled the covers over her body, hugging the edge of the bed, her back to him. A few seconds later Sam switched off the lamp on the other side of the bed, throwing them both into darkness. She took a ragged breath before she turned her face into the pillow.

Go to sleep, Amelia
, she silently ordered.
And when you wake up, everything will be all right again.

She touched her lips with her fingertips and bit back a groan. Now, if she could just get him to stop kissing her, she might believe it.

* * *

H
ER
BODY
WAS
warm against his, her soft curves fitting his shape as if the fates had designed her only for him. Sam slipped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her closer, her backside tucked into his lap, his chin resting on her shoulder.

He hadn't known her intimately, at least not yet, but he was sure that if it ever happened, it would be amazing. His thoughts wandered back to the previous night, to the moment she'd reached down to remove her sweater. Sam hadn't expected her to make such a bold move. And his first impulse had been to let her take the lead.

But when they finally did surrender to their desires, he wanted to do it without any agendas standing between them. He didn't want their encounter ruined because of the ownership of some silly bed.

Sam took a deep breath, the scent of her hair teasing at his nose. He ought to just give her the damn bed. But Sam knew that as soon as he did, she'd pack her trailer and drive out of his life. He needed more time with her—time to figure out what this all meant.

There was definitely an attraction between them. Sexual, yes. But more than that. He could spend hours just watching her, deciphering every expression that crossed her face, cataloging all the features that combined to make her beautiful. She challenged him, made him see himself and his life in a different way. She understood him.

He pressed his lips to her neck. Memorizing the scent of her so that he might recall it at will.

She stirred slightly and Sam held his breath, wondering what she'd say if she woke with his arms around her. He heard her take a sharp breath as her slender body jerked. Then she slowly turned in his arms until she faced him.

She stared at him and he waited until she was fully awake before speaking. “Morning,” Sam murmured.

“Is it morning?”

“I think so.”

“I slept so well. Like a rock.” She fought a yawn. “I'm not sure I moved all night long. It must be this bed.”

He wanted to suggest it had more to do with her bedmate than the bed. But he needed more than one night to prove that. And a different bed. “It must be.”

Sam bent closer and brushed a kiss across her lips. He heard the breath catch in her throat, then waited again to see what she might do.

A few seconds later her soft lips met his.

This time Sam did nothing to control himself; her kiss was his invitation to take more. He pulled her on top of him, smoothing his hands over her body as their hips came together. Though she still wore the sweater and yoga pants she'd worn last night, Sam had discarded his jeans and shirt, leaving just a pair of boxer briefs to cover his body.

“What happened to your clothes?” she asked.

“I can't sleep with clothes on. With anything on.”

Her eyes went wide. “Are you—”

“Naked?”

“Are you?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he said. “What about you? How do you usually sleep?”

“Flannel pajamas,” she said. “Even in the summer. Except when I travel. Then I wear this.”

“Have you ever tried naked?” Sam asked.

Amelia shook her head. “I get cold.”

Sam smoothed his hands across her back, then slipped his palms beneath her sweater. His touch met warm, silken skin. “You'll be liberated. I promise.”

She watched him warily, slowly shaking her head. “Why was this forbidden last night and it's all right today? I don't understand.”

He pulled her down to kiss him. It was deep and delicious and slightly desperate.

“This isn't about the bed,” she said, as if she sensed his doubts about her motives.

“I know,” he said.

She shifted above him, the soft spot between her legs pressed against his growing erection. Sam groaned inwardly. It was going to be difficult to stop once they started. Was he ready to call an end to their battle?

Once they got physical, would it be possible to deny her anything? Could he really deny her the one thing she wanted, even if it meant she left immediately afterward?

This time when she reached for the hem of her sweater, he watched her tug it off over her head. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face and Sam reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her beautiful eyes.

His gaze drifted down, from her sleepy eyes to her damp lips and slender neck. Below that, he found new territory, silken skin exposed for the first time. Sam smoothed his palm along the ridge of her collarbone.

His lips followed the path of his fingers, moving lower until his mouth hovered over the pink tip of her breast.

Amelia held her breath and, when he drew her nipple into his mouth, exhaled a long sigh and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“What's that sound?” Amelia whispered.

“I'm pretty sure that's the blood rushing to my lap,” he joked.

“No, listen. It sounds like someone left a radio on. People talking.”

He pulled back and looked up at her. Amelia's brow was furrowed with suspicion and she glanced around. When she glanced over her shoulder, Sam felt her body stiffen. An instant later she screamed, grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her head.

“What's wrong?” Sam asked, pushing up on his elbows.

He didn't need an answer. He sat straighter and stared out the front window. The tarp had fallen to one side, giving everyone gathered on the sidewalk a perfect view of what was going on in George Washington's bed.

A small crowd stood on the other side of the glass and several people held up their phones as they snapped photos of the scene. Amelia was burrowed beneath the covers beside him and Sam tugged at the covers, pulling them over his bare chest.

“Do something!” she shouted. “Don't just sit there!”

“I can't get up at the moment,” he said, certain that his desire would be evident through the fabric of his boxers.

She shoved a pillow out from beneath the sheet. “Use this.”

Groaning, Sam placed the pillow in his lap and slipped out of bed. The cameras began to flash and he pasted a smile on his face. He grabbed the corner of the tarp and held it up to cover the window.

“Okay,” he said. “It's safe now. Get out of bed and grab your stuff. I'll hold up the tarp until you're done.”

She peeked out, and when Amelia was satisfied that it was safe, she scrambled out of bed and frantically collected her belongings.

“Grab my stuff, too,” Sam said. “When I let go of this, I'll need to make a run for it. They have cameras.”

She picked up her pace, cursing beneath her breath. When she was finally finished, he followed her to the dark shadows beyond the plate-glass window. He watched as she quickly slipped into her sweater, his fingers twitching as he remembered the feel of her flesh in his hands.

“Mornin'.” Benny Barnes appeared in the doorway of his office, a wide smile on his face. “I was wonderin' when you'd be up.” His attention was fixed firmly on Amelia. “I have breakfast for you. I bought some of that French roast coffee and some nice jelly-filled doughnuts. Can I get you some?”

Amelia glanced over at Sam and he shrugged. “I want a cold shower,” he muttered.

“Shower's at the top of the stairs and to the left,” Benny said, his gaze still fixed on Amelia. “Come on in, Amelia. I'll get you a cup of coffee.”

“Actually, I'd like to wash my face and get dressed.”

“I'll take a cup of coffee,” Sam said. He turned to Amelia. “You go ahead. I'll wait down here.”

He and Benny watched as she headed toward the stairs. “She's a beaut,” Benny said. “You think she likes meat loaf? They got a great meat loaf special today at Addie's Café. I never miss their meat loaf.”

Sam grabbed his jeans from the pile Amelia had dropped on the floor and tugged them over his boxers. “I think she has a fiancé,” he said. “Some guy back in Boston.”

“Hmm.” Buddy frowned. “And you're not worried about sleeping with her?”

“That was all business,” Sam said. He grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head. “I want you to help me break the bed down and put it in Amelia's trailer.”

“You're giving up?” Benny asked.

“Not exactly. But we can't stay here. It's too...public.”

“We just have to fix that tarp,” Benny said. “The nail on the right corner just popped right out and—”

“You pulled it down, didn't you?” Sam said.

Benny shrugged. “Maybe. Can't blame me for wanting to bring a little attention to my business.”

Sam shook his head. “Well, everyone on that sidewalk got an eyeful this morning.” He walked back to the window and found his shoes tucked beneath the edge of the bed. There were still a few people on the sidewalk, including Minerva Threadwell and her camera.

“You can go home now, Minerva,” Sam shouted. “There's nothing left to see.”

She gave him a thumbs-up.

Sam sat on the edge of the bed and put on his shoes, then began to yank the sheets and pillows off and tossed them on the floor. There was no way he was going to spend another minute exposed to the public view.

“Where you planning to move it to?” Benny said.

“Back to the inn,” Sam said.

“You can't do that,” Benny said.