One Night More (8 page)

"My god, yes," I gasped, unable to do anything but take what he was giving. It seemed every nerve-ending in my body was connected to the tiny nub he sucked and prodded. Every flick of his tongue tightened a string in me until I nearly vibrated from the tension.

And then, as the string snapped and I went soaring, untethered, into climax, Sam sank two fingers deep inside me. I clenched around them and flew even higher. A wild combination of scream and groan burst out of my mouth and everything dimmed for a long time.

When my vision cleared Sam was yanking my panties off. I smiled as he stretched out on his back next to me.

"Tired, old man? Need a little nap?"

His lip quirked up at the corner before he replied. "You'll pay for that question."

"Oh yeah? How?"

He grabbed me at the hips and pulled me over on top of him. My legs straddled his and the length of his manhood pressed hotly against my belly.

"Kiss me," he ordered.

I did, leaning down, pressing our bodies together. His chest hair tickled my nipples and I took his lower lip between my teeth.

Looking into his eyes for any sign of reluctance, I was delighted to see only desire there. I bit down, tugging on his lip, and felt his hardness jump between us.

"Mmm." I released his lip and bent to lick along his wide jaw.

"Technically," he replied, "Neither of those counts as a kiss."

"Ah, yes. My cop is a stickler technicalities."

His voice was hoarse. "Of course."

"Well then, allow me to give you a proper one." I mimicked the move he'd made earlier, sliding down his body. With my breasts pressed against his thighs I closed my lips around the wide, blunt tip of his member.

Sam hissed and his fingers curled to fists.

Seeing him struggle for control like that excited me. I was giddy with arousal and the power of it all. Wrapping one hand around the thick base, I took him deeper into my mouth.

"This was not on the agenda for the evening, Carly," he said through gritted teeth.

My only response was to use my tongue to swirl circles of wet heat along his shaft. When that made his hips rise I stopped and began to slowly slide him in and out of my mouth, using gentle suction and constant motion.

Part of me wanted to stop, freeze the moment and tell him what it meant to me. That there, in the vaguely smelly motel, making love freely, without doubts or embarrassment was something new for me. That through everything we'd experienced somehow trust and caring had survived. The act I performed was one I'd always thought somewhat degrading in the past.

But now that seemed stupid. Enveloping his most male part, being in control of his pleasure was intoxicatingly powerful. Watching him writhe under my touch made me feel strong and proud.

It wasn't the time, and I didn't have the words to explain it all to him. So I told him with action, hands and mouth, fingers and tongue far more eloquent than words could ever be.

The muscles in his stomach tensed when I clamped down hard at his base. A low groan issues from his mouth when I swiped over the tip with my tongue.

"Enough," Sam finally croaked. "Get back up here."

I grinned and sucked him deep one last time.

Hands grabbed at my shoulders and this time I relented, laughing.

"Pretty pleased with yourself?"

I shrugged, straddling his hips once more. "Shouldn't I be?"

"Just wait."

I smirked as he rolled a condom on with shaky hands. He lifted me at the hips, hands holding up my body as if I weighed nothing. That alone was remarkable and erotic. Instead of nervous and wary, Sam's strength made me feel safe and protected.

"You might be the perfect man," I mused.

"How's that?" he asked, repositioning us slowly.

"Strong and sexy. Not to mention-" My thought was cut off as he entered me. "Oh…"

With his eyes locked on my face, he slid me down slowly, invading, stretching, enticing. The long, slow penetration stoked the flames inside me, intense and relentless.

"Jesus, Carly. The look on your face when I'm inside you. It's the most stunningly beautiful thing."

I tried to smile, but failed. All I could do was moan when he stopped, firmly nestled deep within my slick tightness.

We stayed there, locked together for a while, my walls grasping him, his big hands holding me in place.

"Ride me," he finally whispered.

I briefly thought of refusing, a flash of embarrassment going through me. But the erotic heat in my core drowned it out and I obeyed.

I held his lower arms and rose up before sliding down again, experimenting. I repeated the motion, faster this time and gasped as the slip and friction struck me. And then again, rising so high we were almost parted, but not quite, before sinking again to complete fullness.

Eventually I found my rhythm and forgot all about the way my belly must have looked or how my breasts swayed. With hair falling in my face I moved again and again, adding a swivel of my hips and a tightening of my core.

More than any other exquisite moment with Sam, I came alive then. With tender hands caressing my breasts, my belly, my hips, and his column of iron heat within me, I had the power, but we worked together, coaxing new levels of pleasure from each other.

The only sounds in the room were the slid of flesh against flesh and our breathing, growing louder in unison.

Sam reached between us and rubbed at my clit with his thumb, sending me rocketing into space, calling out his name. But before the waves of pleasure abated he wrapped his arms around me and turned us.

Now I was beneath him, warmed and shielded by his bulk. I watched the last bit of control leave his face and he bent his head to kiss me hard. His cock slid back deep and this time he kept the pace, a rough, wild series of thrusts.

Nonsensical mutterings flew from my mouth as I crested another wave of climax. But still he went, deeper, harder, driving fully inside, claiming me for his own.

And when finally, with a groan, he reached his own completion, he sank down, his entire weight on me, so heavy and welcome.

He took a few jagged breaths once the convulsions stopped. "Just like I said, paradise."

I ran my fingers through his hair, lifting the damp curls off of his neck. "And just like I said, you talk too much."

Sam chuckled. "You're awfully sassy today, baby."

"That's what you do to me."

"That's all I do to you?"

"No. There are a few other things too." The thin sheen of sweat cooling on my skin made me shiver.

Sam yanked a blanket over us as he continued to soften inside me. "Please, tell me about these other wonderful things I do to you."

"Well, this is one. Being so thoughtful and attentive right after sex."

He looked into my eyes. "There is nothing you do that I don't notice. And nothing I won't do to keep you safe and protected. And sexually satisfied."

I grinned. "I'm all of those right now."

He shook his head. "Not quite. I think you could stand for a little more satisfaction." His hips rotated and I felt his growing thick and hard again.

"I don't know if I need that."

"Of course you do. We're having a conversation and you're completely lucid. When you're done, really done, I want to unable to speak or move." His gaze was intense and sharp.

I clenched my muscles on him and hooked a leg around his hips. "Guess you better get to work then, huh?"

He leaned down and kissed me before starting the breathtaking slide all over again.

I woke up in the middle of the night and stretched languorously. As promised, Sam had left me sated and exhausted, but the quiet of the motel around us made it hard for me to stay asleep. My brain was used to filtering out the all-hours sounds of the city, unaccustomed to silence.

After a quick trip to the bathroom I took a moment to watch Sam sleep. His big body was sprawled across the double bed, but the spot I'd vacated still waited for me. I watched his chest rise and fall and smiled at the shock of dark hair that spread around his face.

I needed to ask him about the hair. I'd never seen a cop with long hair before. Sure, it wasn't hanging down his back or anything, but it brushed his broad shoulders in the back when he let it hang free. It was sexy as hell, just like the rest of him, but didn't really match his personality. Maybe it was part of his undercover work, or just a little bit of rebellion. Either way I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything about him.

Standing there in the dark, only a faint yellow light from outside, I realized I'd truly opened my heart to him, and he'd done the same. It was crazy and fast, but so was everything in my life right now. And this beautiful man was the best of it, the saving grace and shining beacon of hope. From his brash protectiveness to his silly sense of humor, Sam was indescribably fantastic. Wholly imperfect, but maybe perfect for me.

Mind bursting with these thoughts, I shivered in the cold air. Not ready to climb back into bed yet, I dug through our discarded pile of clothes to find something to put on. Then I remembered Sam bought himself a couple of t-shirts on our way to the motel. I went over to the bag and pulled one out.

I yanked off the tags and slipped into it. I spotted something reflective in the bag and took it out, curious.

It was a chrome-colored prepaid cell phone, like the one he'd given me to spy on Mitchell with. That plan hadn't gone as well as I'd hoped, but it had, in a roundabout way, led me here. With a smile I flipped it.

After glancing over my shoulder to confirm he was still fast asleep, I stepped back into the doorway of the dark bathroom and turned my back to block any light from the phone.

Thinking of Anna and how worried she must be, I turned the phone on to call her. The phone was untraceable so it wouldn't put her at any risk. Besides, I just needed to hear her voice, even just on her outgoing message.

When the phone started up I noticed it had been used already. The little indicator showed use of seven minutes, and there was a voicemail message. I figured Sam must have tried contacting a friend on the force or something, and began dialing Anna's number.

I paused, looking at the time. It was almost two in the morning. She'd be asleep, but wouldn't mind if I woke her.

While I was debating, a text message arrived. Instinctively I clicked to open the message. It was nothing but a long series of numbers.
Weird
.

Curious and happy the dark hid my nosiness, I scrolled through the other messages. There were five or so, and a few were like the last, random numbers. But the oldest one was actual words. It read, "Good. Punch Snap."

Super weird
. What the hell did "Punch Snap" mean? Some kind of police code? Two flashes of memory hit me simultaneously. The tall man at the warehouse who'd made that strange gesture with his fist and then snapping his fingers. And Sam, later, doing almost the exact same thing.

What did that mean? It could be a coincidence, but that certainly wasn't a common gesture. And the text message certainly seemed to reference it. But that didn't make any sense. How could there be a connection between Sam and that man? There couldn't. It was ridiculous.

Still assuring myself of that, I clicked over to the sent messages. There was only one. And from the timestamp, Sam had sent it before all the rest were received.

The words I read made my knees go weak and my vision swim. I had to scan it three times to make sure I understood. "With target. Buying time. Advise."

"Target?" That had to be me. But cops don't describe the witnesses they protect and girls they date as targets. A sense of cold dread filled me and I shivered.

Little things that didn't make sense started to add up. The picture in the puzzle began to clear. Sam had told me about his undercover operation, but maybe he'd gone deeper than he'd admitted. It explained how he was so sure what Mitchell was doing was related to the larger case. And why he'd followed me to the warehouse. If he had.

I never saw that man's face. And even remarked he was around Sam's size. It could have been him. So easy to circle the warehouse and get behind me while I was creeping up carefully. The idea was too horrifying to believe, but it also seemed so right. Like a tune barely heard, finally recognized.

Choking back a sob I shut the phone off and closed it. Minutes before I'd been amused by the continued existence of flip-phones, and now I was going to be ill.

I clutched my stomach, mind reeling.

"Finished snooping?"

I spun around. Sam was sitting up in bed, eyes trained on me, and not a bit of playfulness in his voice.

"I-I just…"

"It doesn't matter," he said shaking his head. Even in the dark I can see right through you."

My gaze slid over to the door of the motel room as all my instincts told me to flee.

"You wouldn't make it to the parking lot," he promised evenly.

"Sam." My voice was quivering and weak.

"Run if you must, Carly. I enjoy a good chase."

Knowing if I paused to ponder the implication in those words I might collapse completely, I let my body do what it wanted. I bolted for the door, not caring that I was naked except for a t-shirt and barefoot.

My hand was sliding the safety latch open when Sam reached me.

I screamed.

Thank you so much for reading
One Night More
. Carly and Sam's adventure will continue soon. If you want to be one of the first to read the next book, please go to my website, 
www.clarabayard.com
, and enter your email address to join the announcement list. 

Also, I love hearing from readers to feel free to send me an email at 
[email protected]
 and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. 

And finally, if you enjoyed this book please consider leaving a review.

- Clara

Books in This Series:

#1 One Night Stand (now available)

#2 One Night More (now available)

#3 One Last Night (coming soon)

Also by Clara Bayard