Loving Again: Book 2 in the Second Chance series (Crimson Romance) (2 page)

BOOK: Loving Again: Book 2 in the Second Chance series (Crimson Romance)
2.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Amanda.” His voice was thick and husky. “I … ”

She turned to see a questioning look in his eyes, as if trying to assess what her reaction was to the change of direction. To answer she reached toward him, put her hand at the back of his neck and, as she drew him toward her, felt him embrace her. She’d thought about being in his arms for months and now she was.

Bending his head, he lowered his mouth toward hers. She lifted her face and was about to close her eyes when she felt him hesitate.

“Is something wrong, Sam?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just … are you sure about this?”

Standing on tiptoe, she answered him, pressing first her lips then her body against his. His mouth opened under hers and all of his hesitation disappeared.

It was no gentle kiss. She could feel every ounce of his hunger and desire, passion and longing. His hard body pinned her against the cabinet. His fingers threaded through her hair, tipping her head to the angle he wanted so he could kiss her even more fiercely. Then his tongue found hers and she gasped at the pleasure of it, the velvet feel of tongues sliding and slipping over each other in what they both knew was the rhythm of what was to come.

Skin. She needed to touch his skin. She pulled his shirttail out from his jeans and slid her hands up under it to his back, to the muscles she could feel flex and move as he repositioned her so his thigh was tucked between her legs, the thick erection she could feel behind the zipper of his jeans pressing against her belly.

Warm, wet arousal pooled between her legs as he rocked his hips into her, pushing harder against her. She moaned into his mouth as he found his way under her T-shirt to her breasts. This massage was so sensual she wanted it to go on forever.

He broke from the kiss but didn’t let up on the pressure of his body against hers. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you, thought about this but … ”

“But our timing sucked.”

“It still does. You’re leaving.”

“We have tonight. We don’t have to waste it.”

“And you’re sure?” He asked again as he pulled back and looked in her eyes.

She was sure of one thing. She’d decided while she was in the shower, he wasn’t leaving her house tonight until she got him into her bed. The events of the year before had ruined so much. She wasn’t going to let them ruin any more.

“Yes. But if you’re not sure yet, I’ll just go upstairs and wait for you. When you make up your mind, it’s the second door on the right. I’ll leave a light on for you.” She turned to go but he reached for her hand. He was laughing.

“We better go together. I might get lost.”

She led him to her bedroom, strewn with more boxes and her suitcases but she didn’t think that would matter to him. She was right. He didn’t seem to pay attention to anything but her. Coming up behind her, he carefully slid the T-shirt over her head.

“This is like unwrapping the best present at Christmas.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed her shoulder. “I love it that you don’t wear a bra. I don’t have to fumble around because I can’t figure out how to unhook the damn thing.”

She giggled a little, suddenly nervous, but he turned her around and kissed her with deep, seriously long, hot kisses, stealing her breath, reminding her why she wanted this. When she put her head back, gulping in oxygen, he moved down to her neck, kissing the pulse in her throat, nipping at the notch between her collarbones. All the oxygen in the universe couldn’t keep her from feeling dizzy with desire.

In spite of his claims that he fumbled with women’s clothing, he had no trouble with the zipper on her jeans or with easing them over her hips. She kicked off her sandals and shimmied the jeans the rest of the way off until they fell to the floor. Clad now in nothing but a scrap of lace, she was aware of how naked she was. From the flare of desire in his eyes she knew he was aware, too.

He led her to the bed, she lay down and he sat beside her. He dipped his head to one breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue, while he massaged the other breast, rolling the hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She arched toward him, as if to bring her breasts closer to his mouth, as a hunger for him increased with each touch, every kiss.

Wanting to feel his bare chest against her, she tugged at the buttons on his shirt, her fingers shaking with desire, finally getting them undone. He worked the cuffs and she slid the shirt down over his shoulders until it joined her T-shirt and jeans on the floor. She wrapped him in her arms, drew him to her, felt her sensitive nipples brush against his hard chest and sighed with pleasure.

But he backed away. She made a soft sound, objecting to the loss of his heat, her arms reaching for him, until she saw he was only shedding his boots, jeans, and boxer briefs. Before he came back to her, he pulled his wallet out of his jeans and removed a foil packet, placing the condom on her bedside table.

If the thought occurred to ask him why he was carrying condoms around, it was smothered in a kiss. And in the thrill of having him run hands down her body until his fingers found the top of her lace thong. When he’d helped her wriggle out of the last barrier of clothing between them, she pulled him close to her, their arms and legs twined around each other. She rocked her hips against his and walked her fingers down his stomach to his thighs, touching the velvety tip of his erection, but he caught her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed her fingertips.

“Let’s take this slow, baby. We’re in no hurry.”

As if to prove his point, he didn’t touch her anyplace but her face, tracing around her mouth, her nose and eyes with his forefinger, then kissing each place in turn. “You’re so beautiful. Even in jeans and a T-shirt with dust streaks on your face you were beautiful.”

“You don’t have to say that, I’m already in bed with you.”

He gave her a mock serious look. “There are a few rules with me. The first is when I tell you you’re beautiful, you say, ‘thank you, Sam’ and you don’t give me attitude.”

“Thank you, Sam.” She suppressed a laugh. “Any more rules?”

“Later.” He went back to exploring her with his fingertips and mouth, back again to her throat, her collarbones and her breasts. “Right now, I’m busy.”

This time she couldn’t keep the laugh under wraps. “So, you like rules, do you?”

“Hell, yes. I’m all about rules. Why do you think I’m a cop? Rules, regulations, laws. I’m in my element.”

“And do you always make your women laugh in bed?”

“Yeah. Sometimes, even on purpose.”

She was still smiling when he turned the conversation serious again by making love to her mouth, slowly and sweetly at first then fiercely, demanding she join him in the passionate play of lips. As their tongues explored and played feint and parry, their hands roamed over bodies hot with desire, discovering the texture of skin, finding the places where pleasure lay, warmed by the heat they were generating.

When he finessed her legs apart and slid one of his legs between hers, she urged him on with her hips, wanting him, ready for him, needing him.

But he only skimmed the palm of his hand over her again creating a tingle that spread down her belly. His hand seemed instinctively to follow the path to the place between her legs where the feeling pooled.

He stroked her with his thumb; his fingers slid inside her, moving in a slow and sensual rhythm until the tingle became a burn, then an intense fire. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, he withdrew his hand and she moaned, wanting it back. He seemed to ignore her little sounds of protest as he moved down her body until he was between her legs. His hands on her hips, he began an agonizingly slow progress of kissing her from her knees to her thighs.

When he reached her sex, just the feel of his breath on her was almost enough to make her come. With his fingers he gently parted the folds protecting her clitoris and kissed her there. She moaned again, this time with pleasure as he licked and sucked, circling her most sensitive place with his tongue and nipping gently with his teeth until he took her over the top.

As the waves of climax subsided, he moved back up along her body until he could kiss her again. She tasted her own arousal on his lips as he ravaged her mouth. Aching for him, her body craving his, she shifted restlessly against him. When he finally handed her the foil packet so she could cover him, she wanted him inside her so much she had a difficult time opening the condom and fumbled putting it on him, her hands shaking.

He took it from her and, guiding her hand, helped her unroll it over him. Then taking his time, he entered her.

“Christ, you feel good,” he said into the ear he was kissing.

“You have no idea how good I feel,” she said, “I didn’t know I could feel this good.” She rolled her hips against him, groaning with pleasure as she finally felt him fill her. He felt so hard, so hot, so amazing.

“Don’t move,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “Stay still.”

“But … ”

“Not yet. Let me just feel how good it is.” His hips didn’t move as he nibbled at her mouth, first her top lip, then the bottom. He explored inside her mouth, caught her tongue with his teeth, gently sucked on it.

She caught fire again. “Oh, God, Sam, please … ” She covered his face with kisses, urging him on.

But all he did was go back again and again to the pulse in her throat and to the hard tips of her nipples, tonguing them, raking his teeth across the sensitive skin.

Just when she thought the delightful torture would never end, he brought her legs up around him and slowly, deliberately, began to rock their bodies together, gradually increasing the tempo, moving to another climax. With their bodies joined, their breathing synchronized, they climbed together until first Amanda, then Sam took the roller coaster down the slope to the other side.

They held each other afterwards, trying to make the journey back to being two separate people. After his breathing had returned to normal, Sam tilted her face up so she was looking at him.

“Any way Seattle can wait?”

“Even if I was willing to turn down a residency at the best glass school in the country, I need time away from Portland, from everything that happened last year. Besides, I’ve shipped most of my studio to Seattle so I can work after my stay at Pilchuck and I have a house sitter who … ”

“Stay with me then until you can unwind everything. Go to Pilchuck later. We’ve been dancing around this … ” he indicated their entwined naked bodies, “for months now. Stay and let’s see where it takes us.”

“This is like my conversation with my parents. They want me back in Shaker Heights so they can help me see where the next phase of my life takes me, to quote my dad.”

He ran his fingertips down her flank. “This isn’t more convincing than a telephone conversation with your parents?”

Laughing, she took his hand and kissed it. “Yes, Sam, it is. You’re considerably more tempting, I admit. But it doesn’t change the answer. Whatever the next step is, I have to make the decision, not someone else, no matter how well meaning. Besides, you deserve a woman who … well, who’s not me right now. I don’t know how I feel about anything.”

“Suppose I told you that doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. I could hurt you and I’m not going to hurt the person I owe my life to.”

“You don’t … ” He stopped. She assumed he saw the stubborn set of her face because when he spoke again, he tried another tack. “Okay, how about we make a deal? You have your time in Seattle. I’ll come visit you after you get out of your residency, just so you don’t forget what I look like. Then, when it’s over, you come back to Portland so we can see if we can work it out between us.”

“I haven’t decided about coming back to Portland yet.” The disappointed look on his face made her hurry to get to the next sentence. “But absolutely come see me after Pilchuck. And I promise I’ll talk it over with you before I decide what’s next after the six months. That okay?”

“No, I like my deal better. But I’ll take yours if that’s all I can get.”

Tracing the lines around his eyes and mouth with her finger, she said, “You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met. And I’m probably the biggest idiot on the planet for walking away from you.” She put her arms around him and held him, nestling into his chest. “But I have to get my life back together, prove I can take care of myself. And going away is the only way I can get it done.” She rolled over and looked at the clock. “And it all starts very early tomorrow morning when the movers arrive to pick up what goes to Seattle.”

“Is that a hint for me to leave? Thought it was the man who wanted to be alone after sex.”

“Is it? I don’t know. I’ve never had a one-night stand before.”

He pulled himself up on one elbow and took her chin with the opposite hand. “I don’t know what tonight is. It could be the beginning of something or the end. But it’s no one-night stand. Not for me. And I don’t think for you either.”

“You have a lot of experience with one-night stands, cowboy?”

“Enough to recognize that this wasn’t one.”

“Okay. I’ll take your word for it. We’ll figure out what it is — was — later.” She kissed him lightly on the lips and slid out from under the sheet. “For now, how about I get dressed and walk you downstairs. We can say good-bye there.”

When they got to the front door, he held her and made her promise she’d be in touch as soon as she got to Seattle. After he released her from his embrace, she picked up a large, cardboard box from the table in the entryway and handed it to him.

“I was going to have this delivered to you. Not that it’s close to paying you back for what you’ve done for me — I’ll never be able to do that — but I want you to have it.”

He opened the box. Inside was a bubble-wrapped package with a metal stand taped to it. “Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think it’s a piece of my work, it is. It’s the first piece you ever saw, the night we met.”

“I don’t know what to say. Except thank you.” He looked inside the box. “Does it have the title anyplace on it? I don’t remember what you called it.”

“It’s called ‘Hope’, the piece is called ‘Hope’. Which is exactly what you gave me at the worst time in my life.”

Other books

Ready for Love by Marie Force
On the State of Egypt by Alaa Al Aswany
The Accidental Genie by Dakota Cassidy
Cyador’s Heirs by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
Nocturne by Tanpepper, Saul
Why She Buys by Bridget Brennan
Fissure by Nicole Williams
Loving Drake by Pamela Ann
The chuckling fingers by Mabel Seeley
A Greater World by Clare Flynn