One Night More (7 page)

Read One Night More Online

Authors: Clara Bayard

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #New Adult & College

BOOK: One Night More
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What I could easily see is when the driver gunned his engine and plowed into us again, much harder.

"Sam!"

"I know. This isn't an accident. Hold on, baby."

I clutched the door handle so hard it hurt, but I was scared to let go.

The SUV hit us again, and this time my head jerked. "What do they want?"

"Us to stop. Which means we're not going to."

Chapter Seven

Sam's face was cold and determined. He slammed his foot down on the gas and swerved out of the lane. In seconds we were flying out of the tunnel in the wrong direction. Sam maneuvered the car onto the shoulder and barely avoided sideswiping a construction vehicle. I cast a series of quick glances through the back window and noticed the SUV was nowhere to be found.

"I think it worked. I can't see them."

"We're not risking it. I'm getting you as far away from here as I can in this fucking traffic."

"Okay," I replied weakly.

Sam took his eyes off the road long enough to look at me for a second. He put his hand on my knee. "Don't worry, baby. I've got you."

I nodded. "I know."

For the second time since we met I saw him in all his fierce warrior-cop glory. The first time was when he pummeled Mitchell when he attacked me. Careening through the city streets fast enough to move but slow enough to avoid an accident, he was magnificent.

"What about the station?" I asked when I noticed we were passing the city limits.

"It isn't safe for you there. No one but my team knew I was picking you up or the route we'd have to take. I suspected there was something shady happening in the department and now I know it's true."

I sighed and told him what the strange man with the scar had told me about being able to get rid of any evidence.

"Fuck," Sam said. "We need to get out of town and take some time regroup somewhere safe."

"Well, I'm all out of brilliant ideas."

"Lucky for you I've always got plenty," he joked.

 

 

A few hours later as the sun sank below the horizon, I sat in the car while Sam checked us into a motel forty minutes west of the city. He brought back the key, which was an actual key. On any other day I would have found that hilarious. On this date it barely got a smile out of me as he drove us over to room nineteen.

We took the snacks and change of clothes he'd bought on the way inside and I sat down on one of the beds and looked around.

"Not exactly a romantic vacation spot. Sorry," Sam said.

"It's fine."

"Want something to eat? A drink?"

I took a deep breath. "No, thanks. I need a shower but first I want to talk to you about something."

He sank down across from me, shifting on the lumpy mattress. "More bad news?"

"No. Just an apology."

"For what?"

"For being…the way I am. For lying to you, not trusting you as much as I should."

His brow furrowed with confusion. "Where's this coming from?"

"I was thinking all the way here. It's not easy for me to trust someone. And you and I have been through so much so fast. I'm scared of whoever is after us, scared for my friends and scared of you in a way."

Sam leaned over and took one of my hands in his. "Scared of me? Why?"

"Because you're cocky and bossy. And sexy and kind. And funny and smart."

His grin widened through each word. "I agree with all of those, but why does it scare you?"

"You know the general story of what happened to me a few years ago. I don't want to go into details, but…I never dated much before Phillip. I was always too tall or too fat for the boys I liked. So when someone handsome and charismatic actually liked me I jumped in without looking. I gave everything to that relationship and it nearly killed me." My free hand rubbed at my neck. "Emotionally and physically."

"I can understand that," he replied softly.

"I'm not that girl anymore. I've changed a lot. I learned to listen to my feelings, my fears, and not discount them. Sometimes I'm wrong and sometimes I'm right, but I'm always aware now."

"And what do your feelings and fears tell you about me?"

I smiled slightly. "That you're a good man. And beyond that, I know all of this is what
you
do. And I can work on trusting you, but I can't – I won't – let my life depend solely on your judgment. I won't just take your word for big things, important things."

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through my hair. "That's fair. I've gotten used to the authority than comes with my job. And it'll drive me nuts that you doubt me."

"It isn't about doubting you. It's about needing that bit of control for myself."

"Okay. I think I get that."

"Good. So what now?"

"Now we stay put. Take the night here to regroup. Tomorrow I'll get in touch with some guys on the force I know we can trust. Get some information and go from there. Sound like a plan?"

"Sure. Especially the staying put part. Does this dump get cable, at least?"

"Dump?
Dump
?" He slapped his chest as if I'd wounded him. "I get it; you're just with me for my money and were expecting a fancier place."

"Uh-huh. Everyone knows cops make huge bank. As long as there's something to watch on television and hot water in the shower, as far as I'm concerned this is best motel in the state."

He chuckled. "You can shower later. Let's chill and watch something."

"Okay." I grinned and scooted back on the bed so my back was against the headboard.

Sam followed, slung his arm around my shoulder and turned on the TV. We caught the last twenty minutes of some gross-out comedy from a few years ago and both enjoyed groaning and giggling at the on-screen antics.

By the time it ended I felt a million times better and had relaxed next to Sam. He flipped over to another movie that was just starting. This one was a romantic comedy. After a few minutes, when the lead characters met and immediately hated each other, Sam started shifting as if he was antsy.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Nothing. I just want you to know I'm only watching this girl movie for you, Carly."

"Of course. Which is why you turned to it and didn't even try to change it. You're a sappy romantic, aren't you?"

"Hell no."

"I don't believe you."

"Please. I'm a big manly man. The only reason I watch sappy things is to get girls in the mood."

I laughed. "And does that strategy work well for you?"

"Most of the time. Is it working on you?"

"Nope. Sorry."

He traced a finger over my lips. "Not at all?"

I closed my eyes. "Your touch? Yes. The movie? No."

Sam leaned in and kissed me softly and I let out a low, contented sigh. "That's good too."

His hand slid down further, lightly grazing the swell of my breast. "And that?"

"Much better than a movie of any kind."

He cupped the back of my head and kissed me again, deeper this time.

"Mmm. Very, very good."

"Carly, I know everything is insane right now. And this is the last thing we should be worrying about. But I want to touch you. I need…" His voice trailed off.

"It's okay, Sam," I whispered. "I want you too."

He smiled. "Fine, but you're sure it isn't the movie?"

"Nope. The motel. It smells like cigarettes and feet. A truly arousing combination."

Sam looked down at me, eyes suddenly very serious. "I am so glad I met you."

"Ditto. Now shut up and kiss me."

He grunted and planted a chaste kiss on my lips. "There. Now who's the bossy one?"

"I just wanted a kiss. It can be your turn next."

"Good. And I'm getting a lot more than a kiss."

"Is that so?"

"It is."

"Such as?"

Sam bent his head and licked my neck right over my pulse point. "Do you want me to tell you or show you?"

"Maybe both," I murmured, sliding a hand under the back of his t-shirt. "Definitely both."

He chuckled and closed his teeth gently on my skin. "You like when I talk to you? Like to know what I'm going to do to you?"

"Yes."

"Well," he said, dipping one hand underneath my shirt and bra. "We'll start with a little of this. And in the end you'll be spent, soft and sleepy in my arms."

"And in between?" My breath caught as his fingers grazed my nipple.

"In between there's going to be a lot of fun. I'm going to kiss you breathless. And then touch you everywhere at least twice. I'll memorize your body with my hands and make your skin so sensitive to my touch that you want to scream. But you won't. Not yet."

"Oh no?"

"No. You won't be able to, because I'll be back to kissing you again. This time rough. There might be a little biting, even. And then, when your sweet, sexy body can't figure out what I'm going to do next, I'll tighten my focus. Pull all that pleasure towards your center, bring it all together."

"How?" I panted.

"I'll slip inside you. Slowly, gently."

"And then what?"

"Then, when we're as close as humanly possible, I'll look into your eyes. And you'll look into mine. And then, when you're least expecting it I'll start fucking you."

My fingernails dug into his skin. My entire body was flooded with heat, soothing tired muscles and inflaming my core to aching. "Tell me more."

"No. There aren't words to describe what happens next. How it will feel. How you'll feel, clasped tight in my arms and holding me snugly inside you."

My arousal pushed away any reservations or fear. No one had ever excited me like this and for the moment the rest of the world disappeared. We weren't running from anyone or dealing with any problems. We were just a man and a woman, alone together, giving in to what we both wanted – needed – most. A connection deeper and stronger than words could ever describe.

"Oh, baby, you're thinking hard again."

"Yes." My voice was raspy with desire. For him, and to let go. "I'm thinking about why we're still talking rather than doing."

"Impatient?"

"Yes."

"I like that."

"Does that mean you're not going to make me wait anymore?"

"No," he said smoothly, lifting the hem of my shirt up. "It means I'm going to enjoy making you even more impatient. Could take hours."

I raised my arms and let him lift the shirt off over my head. "I've heard that from you before. But you were the one who couldn't wait."

"Things are different now. You're mine, Carly. I feel it and I think you do too. Mine to protect. Mine to care for. Mine to enjoy."

I smiled, unhooking my bra. "Yours to torture?"

"In the best way possible. Yes. Is that okay with you?"

Our gazes met and I told the whole truth. "I'm not sure if I'm okay with it, but it's true anyway. I am yours. So take me."

Chapter Eight

Sam growled a happy, possessive sound at my admission. His mouth slanted over mine and he kissed me sweetly, almost lazily. His tongue danced between the seam of my lips, teasing them open and then slipping inside playfully, darting around and tangling with my own.

I enjoyed the incongruity of the words he'd said and the kiss he gave. Always keeping my guessing.

He pulled back enough to help me slip my bra off and then cupped my breasts in his hands, his thumbs sliding over the pebbled peaks. I sighed at the sensation of his rough, thick digits on my heaving soft skin.

"Every second of every day when I'm not touching you is wasted time, Carly," he murmured as his mouth descended to my chest. "Torturous wasted time."

His tongue glided over my flesh, tracing everywhere. Circling tighter, he laved the tips, chuckling at my sharp intake of breath.

I wanted to touch him too, but every flick sent me deeper into lazy heat, like sliding into a warm bath. My arms flopped down by my sides and I head fell back against the wood-covered wall behind the bed.

While his mouth was busy with my breasts, his hands skimmed down my arms and over my hips, following the lines of my pliant body. One hand slipped between my thighs and cupped there, stoking the fire building in me, even with my jeans and panties between us.

I raised my hips, pleading for more. He obliged, opening my pants and sliding them down my legs.

He stood at the foot of the bed and tugged the jeans off completely. He paused, dark eyes flashing as his gaze raked over my entire body, clad only in purple panties.

I blushed, wanting to curl up, hide from the intense stare, but I didn't. Instead, as he shed his own clothes, eyes never leaving me, I did my share of staring too. The soft pelt of hair that covered his chest. The rippling muscles down his torso and legs. And, of course, the thick length of his member, hard and ready for me.

"I see you, Carly. I can read the desire in your face." He joined me on the bed again, this time nestled between my spread thighs. He trailed a finger over the band of my panties, over my belly. "This is paradise. Right here."

I giggled and reached down to tug on his hair. "You talk too much, Sam."

He gaped at me with mock offense and then smiled. "All right then. I'll use my mouth for other things." Keeping one hand low on my body he sprang up, capturing my lips again for a kiss.

But this was nothing like the last one. Now his tongue and lips and teeth were rough, diving and hard pressure and scraping. He devoured my mouth, sucking all the breath from me and giving it back.

I clasped my hands tightly around his neck, abandoning any attempt to keep up with his frenzied motion. Instead I surrendered, letting him suck and nibble as he wanted. Given free rein to plunder my mouth, he did just that. Stubble scratched at my cheek and I moaned into the deliriously wonderful assault.

But just as I was sinking into the pleasure of his kiss, he broke off and slid back down my body.

With a rough hand he pushed my panties aside and bent to lavish his attention on my pulsating core. His fingers raked through downy curls and his mouth met my skin.

From the first touch my hips jerked up, earning a very pleased chuckle from him.

Sam kissed me as thoroughly there as he had on my mouth. But the addition of his fingers teasing in the slickness of my opening added another level of torturous pleasure. I twisted and bucked, trying to get more of what I needed, but he was in complete control. Holding me tight in his grasp, he lapped at me relentlessly.

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