The Jock (10 page)

Gwenyth
whimpered something unintelligible as she arched her hips against him. Sam
groaned low in his throat, sat up on his knees, and discarded her panties in
one fluid motion. His possessive gaze roamed the length of her, drinking in the
sight of the body he'd wanted to see naked for over ten years. "Open your
legs wider," he murmured.

Gwenyth
was slightly embarrassed to watch Sam ogle her body the way he was, but she did
as he asked anyway. He was all warrior now, all commanding, there was nothing
left in his resolve that could be deemed gentle or compromising. She spread her
thighs wide and felt her belly sizzle in tune with Sam's sucked in breath.

Sam
sat there on his knees, looking Gwenyth's body over like a long-denied
possession he'd finally been granted the right of ownership to. He kneaded her
breasts, testing the full, heavy weight of them in his palms. He rubbed the
pads of his thumbs across her protruding nipples, remembering how especially
sensitive she was there. She moaned, causing his erection to jut out further.

Sam
ran his hands down lower, first grazing his fingers through the silky nest of
tawny curls at the juncture of Gwenyth's thighs, then trailing even lower,
settling at last on the swollen nub hidden in her folds like a glistening
jewel. The contrast between Gwenyth's tanned skin and the pinkness of her
heated center was sexy in the extreme.

Gwenyth
gasped at the first stroke Sam's fingers made. The pleasure was so profound.

Instinctively,
she tried to clamp her thighs closed. Sam's glazed-over, implacable stare met
her hazy one. "Open your legs, sweetheart. Take everything I give to
you." His voice was authoritative and provocative, and sexy as hell. She
splayed her legs as wide as she could.

Sam
continued to manipulate the tiny treasure he'd located between Gwenyth's
womanly folds as he watched her breathing hitch and her eyes close from the
intense pleasure of it. "Does that feel good, baby? Is this what you
wanted?" he asked.

Assured
of the answer, Sam stroked and circled faster until Gwenyth's tremblings began
and he felt her at last come apart in his arms. She threw her head back and
arched her hips as she moaned her pleasure into the night. Wanting to feel her
spasms directly, Sam gripped his arousal at the base and guided it toward
Gwenyth's opening. He entered her with one solid thrust.

Sam
ground his teeth against the feel of the exquisite tightness of her heat in
combination with the vaginal pulsings that clutched his manhood and drew it in
deeper. He lowered his chest to Gwenyth's, kissed her possessively on the lips,
and surged forward once more. His thrusts were long and fully penetrating, over
and over, again and again. "Mmm. This pussy feels so good," he
murmured.

Sam
needed her too much to go slow. He could savor the inside of her body later.
For this first time, the primal need to possess and lay claim was too great for
anything less than a fast and furious mating.

Gwenyth
writhed and moaned like an animal in heat as Sam more than lived up to her
every fantasy of him. When he grabbed her by the hips and pounded into her
flesh, over and over, again and again, her swollen bud received enough friction
to set her tremors off all over again.

Sam
felt Gwenyth's orgasm build and crescendo and he knew this time he would follow
her. Thrusting deeply once, twice, three times more, he threw his head back,
and with a low growl, he spurted his orgasm deep inside of her.

Panting
heavily, Sam slowly lowered his self onto Gwenyth's body before giving into his
exhaustion and collapsing fully on top of her.

Gwenyth
rubbed Sam's back, purring like a sated kitten, reveling in the sweaty, pungent
scent of their lovemaking. A few minutes later, Sam raised his head and peered
into her eyes. The look he gave her was all male, all arrogant. "Did you
sort out your feelings yet, Cupcake?"

Gwenyth
threw Sam a sour look meant to silence him. It had zero effect. He chuckled as
he rolled off of her and fell onto the bed beside her. Drawing her into his
side to lay on his chest, Sam grinned. "That's okay, sweetheart. I'll wake
you up to love you again in a couple hours and you can sort a little more out then."

Gwenyth
smacked Sam on the stomach. "You're impossible, Trevianni."

"Uh
huh. And you're
mine
, Jones."

Gwenyth
neither confirmed nor denied that bold statement. The man hardly needed any
more boosts to his overly inflated ego tonight. "Goodnight, Sam."

He
chuckled knowingly. "Goodnight, Cupcake."

Gwenyth
sat in front of the vanity in her old bedroom in Willy and Verlene's house. She
applied her makeup with expert precision, having been taught to do so by
Verlene at a tender age. Grandmama had claimed it was a skill every fashion
photographer should know how to do without a makeup artist's aid, so Gwenyth
had learned, eager to please her and join her famous grandmother's ranks.

When
it came time to apply the eyeliner, Gwenyth leaned in closer to get a better
viewing angle. She was so tender from Sam's heated lovemaking that the abrupt
movement caused her to wince.

He
had taken her five times since last night. Five lusty, sweaty, sinfully wicked,
outrageously wonderful times. Gwenyth smiled her secret smile. She bet even
Lord Gregory didn't have the stamina of Sam Trevianni. The man simply couldn't
keep his hands off of her.

After
their first coupling, Sam had let Gwenyth sleep for maybe an hour. She'd woken
up to the exquisite feel of his lazy, provocative kisses trailing down her
backside. A minute later, he'd pulled her to her knees and entered her from
behind. Sam's thrusts had been fast and demanding, as heated and intense as
they'd been the first time.

The
third time had happened in the middle of the night, spoon fashion. Whereas the
previous encounters had been hard and relentless, Sam's lovemaking that time
had been tender, lingering, erotically and seductively drawn out. He had
brought Gwenyth to orgasm more times than she'd believed humanly possible.

The
fourth and fifth times had occurred first in the shower this morning, and then
just an hour ago before Gwenyth had started dressing for Harry's campaign
dinner and speech at UT this evening. She simply couldn't fathom from what
resources the man pooled his energy. If Sam was anywhere near as tired as she
was, they'd both be lucky to make it through the appetizer course tonight, let
alone the full meal. And poor Sam, he had to give a speech on Harry's behalf to
boot.

Gwenyth
applied her lipstick next, then dabbed at her mouth with a tissue to soften the
effect. She wouldn't be seeing Sam again until she arrived at the University of
Tampa because he had agreed weeks past to accompany Harry there. It was just as
well. She was having a hard enough of a time dealing with all that had happened
without being in Sam's overwhelming presence.

On
one hand, Gwenyth's reservations seemed trite and unbelievably stupid to even
herself. She'd wanted Sam for as long as she could remember, and now here he was
in the flesh, and according to him, was crazy about her. On the other hand,
Gwenyth had never been the type to give herself over emotionally to a man.
Surrendering herself and giving another person a chance to hurt her had never
been high on her list of "must-dos". The truth of the matter was, the
fantasy of Sam was a lot easier to deal with than the reality of him. He had
the power to hurt her in a way no man but him possessed.

Gwenyth
stood up and did a quick once-over in the mirror. She'd never thought of
herself as an exceptionally attractive woman, but she was extremely pleased
with the way she looked tonight. Her body-molded, floor length black dress was
held up by spaghetti straps and flowed to her ankles. The right side was split,
showcasing her leg up to the lower thigh. The matching black high heels arched
her feet gracefully, causing the muscles in her calves to grip sexily. Her
gold-streaked tawny hair was loose tonight, the curls cascading down in
ringlets to just above her waist.

Gwenyth
turned off the bulbs that surrounded the vanity, grabbed her purse, and headed
downstairs to wait for Candy to pick her up.

Fifteen
minutes later, Gwenyth sat in the passenger side of Candy's trendy red SUV, and
smiled over to her. "You look great, Can."

Candy
blew out a loud, popping bubble, then smiled. "Thanks, Gwen, so do
you." She made a right on Kennedy, sped up the SUV to give the finger to
the driver beside her who'd cut her off a mile back, then forgot him just as
quickly. "So," she beamed, looking at Gwenyth out of the corner of
her eye, "do you like my latest book? Be honest now. I can take it."

Gwenyth
grinned. "Uh huh. I was just getting to the big scene last night when
you-know-who interrupted me."

Candy
giggled. "Sam 'The Slam' Trevianni?" She turned her face toward
Gwenyth long enough to wiggle her eyebrows mischievously at her. "Does he
live up to his nickname, 'The Slam'?"

Gwenyth's
cheeks pinkened considerably. Only her best friend would have the audacity to
ask her such an intimate question. "Yes," she admitted somewhat
embarrassed, "and then some."

Candy
slapped her knee and giggled excitedly. "Do tell."

"Let's
just say that the man has stamina. It went through my mind more than once last
night that he could give any hero you've ever penned a run for his money."

"No
kidding?"

"No
kidding."

Candy
grinned. "I'm happy about this Gwenyth, very happy. You deserve this more
than anyone I know." She turned on her signal and swerved the car into the
left lane, preparing to turn into UT's entrance when the light changed. "I
was beginning to worry about you there for a while."

Gwenyth
arched a shapely brow. "Oh?"

Candy
shook her head as if in reprimand. "Your dates were becoming more and more
bizarre. It was starting to look like you were picking out men based on the
sole criteria of how unlikely they'd be to make you feel anything for
them."

Gwenyth
winced at her insight, but said nothing.

"I
mean, let's take Trevor for example. Good grief, Gwen, that guy still lives
with his mother!"

That
Gwen had dumped Trevor the very evening she'd been assaulted by Webster Carr in
the woods mattered little at the moment. They'd remained friends and she felt
obliged to defend him. "Lots of men live with their mothers, Can."

"At
forty-two?"

"Yeah.
Well. Trevor is sensitive to his mother's needs."

"One
has to wonder how sensitive."

"Candy!
That's a terrible thing to imply!"

Candy
grinned unabashedly. "Whatever." She waved her hand dismissively
through the air as she made a left turn into UT's entrance. "Does Sam know
you and Trevor broke up?"

Gwenyth
worried her lower lip. "Come to think of it, no. We haven't discussed him
since that night in the kitchen."

"Since
that night where you let him mistakenly believe you two were still seeing each
other as more than friends, you mean."

"Something
like that," Gwenyth muttered.

Candy
laughed. "Take it easy, Gwen. I'm on your side. It's good for Sam to
realize that you won't be an easy catch."

Gwenyth
blew out a breath that sent a stray curl coasting over her shoulder. It seemed
to her that where Sam Trevianni was concerned,
easy
was her middle name.
Not that she was ready to admit that to him yet.

Definitely
not.

Gwenyth
absently turned her gaze to the buttresses of the historical hotel turned
private university that loomed into view. It occurred to her that leaving for
California tomorrow was the best thing that could happen in her relationship
with Sam. Being in LA would give her time away from his overbearing presence,
time to think and sort everything out.

She
ignored the niggling voice that told her that her destiny had already been
carved out long ago—years ago—before she'd ever had a choice.

* * * * *

Sam
glanced at his Rolex and wondered to himself for the fifth time in ten minutes
just what in the hell was keeping Cupcake. Sweet Jesus, he was standing here in
the middle of an elegant ballroom, local politicians and media abounding, yet
he was still as hard as he'd been last night at the mere thought of seeing her.
When a man had ten inches of erect manhood to give to his woman, the sight
could become an embarrassing one.

Sam
realized that Gwenyth hadn't quite come to terms with their relationship yet,
but that was okay. He'd agreed this afternoon to let her spend her time in LA
sorting through her emotions and figuring out what it was she was wanting. Sam
had no trouble at all agreeing to that since he'd be buried deep inside of her
velvety heat every moment she wasn't busy snapping pictures. Of course, he'd
neglected to tell Cupcake that
he
was her lead model. She'd be angry as
a hornet when she found out, no doubt, so Sam had decided to let her find out
when they got to LA... where there were witnesses.