Chapter 31
I feel like Sammie needs some space. And maybe I do, too. That’s why I’m leaning against the kitchen sink, flipping through last spring’s Master Ink tattoo catalogue when I’d rather be with her, inside of her, now. Admiring the beautiful inkwork is helping to keep my mind off of the hot-as-hell girl next door.
I’ve kept away for two days and it’s driving me crazy but I just need some time to cool off before I go over there again. Things are getting a little intense between us. She says that she wants to keep things casual so I need to take a step back – bringing her breakfast, tending to her lawn, fixing her car – I’ve been getting a little carried away.
But can you blame me? The girl is addicting. The sparkle of her smile. The smell of her skin. Even the frown that’s always on her forehead. There's something about Samantha Trotten that could make a man fall head over heels for her and I’m fighting like hell not to be that man.
I only hope it’s not too late because what I feel for Sammie is anything but casual.
I’ve got to get myself in check before I embarrass the fuck out of myself, or worse, get hurt. I did not come to Reyfield to fall in love. I came to clear my head.
I’m not saying that I can’t fuck her until she clutches the sheets, screaming my name as she has one orgasm after another. I’ve just got to keep my head on straight through it all.
I turn the tiny, wall-mounted kitchen TV to the sports network and a group of talking heads make a bunch of noise about last night’s football game. That’s when I hear the doorbell. I’m not expecting anybody, so I take my time going to answer. But when I glance through the peephole, I see Sammie standing on the front stoop, red-faced and wiping her tiny little nose.
I swing the door open. “Hey. What’s up?” I move aside and let her come in.
“Ahhh! Warmth!” she exclaims, rubbing her hands together as she steps into the foyer. She yanks off her ridiculous fur-lined ushanka and thick, wool mittens.
“What’s up with you? Heater broken?” I ask as I help her take off her heavy coat and hang it on the rack by the door.
“A pipe burst in the basement two days ago and since my brother is a slumlord, he hasn’t sent anyone over to fix it.”
“Whoa, are you okay?” I ask. “How’ve you been holding up over there?” The snow came back overnight and the temperature dropped to below freezing. It’s unseasonably cold this year and, although it’s still technically fall, it looks like the snow might be here to stay.
“I set up the fireplace last night, so I was fine, but right now, I need a warm drink. Do you have any coffee? Tea? I’m all out.”
I can think of something extra warm for her to put in her mouth, but it might be a little inappropriate to suggest that right now since she honest-to-god looks like she might be a blink away from hypothermia.
“Jeez, Sammie. You should have come over sooner. Why the hell did you stay over there until you were hanging between life and death?”
“You’re being overdramatic. I’m fine. Really.” She follows me into the kitchen, sniffling all the way.
She leans against the counter and picks up the catalogue as I turn on the kettle and pull two cups out of the cupboard. “I’ve only got instant coffee. None of that classy, imported shit you drink.”
She scrunches up her nose in disgust then sighs. “Beggars can’t be choosers so…”
She’s still shivering a little, even after I’ve handed her a cup of coffee. And now, I just want to wrap my arms around her to keep her warm. I lean my hip against the counter next to her and get close, snaking my arms around her waist and burying my nose in her hair. “You always smell so good…”
She sets her empty cup on the counter and sighs, molding into the warmth of my body. “Coconut-lavender balm…” she whispers, nuzzling her cheek against my heart. I lean down to get closer. I take a whiff of her and press kisses to her ear, her jaw, her lips. She groans accepting my tongue. She kisses me the way she always does, passionate and eager. I slip my hands into the back pockets of her jeans and give her ass a good squeeze.
But instead of coming closer, she pulls out of my arms.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, shrouded in a fog of lust.
“I should go.” She tries to squirm out of my arms.
“Back to your igloo? No. Stay.” I stroke the side of her face, my cock already filling with blood as it presses against her stomach.
She looks kind of embarrassed. She’s hiding something. “I’m on my period,” she says in a low voice.
I throw my head back and laugh despite the small pang of disappointment that echoes throughout my body. “Come here, silly,” I say pulling her close. “You don’t have to go freeze to death just because you’re on your period.” I put my hands on her shoulders and guide her toward the couch. “Sit down. We’ll watch a movie…” I say and she breathes an audible sigh of relief. “…Then, you’ll suck my dick.”
She laughs and slaps me on the chest. “Get your hands off of me, you pig.”
I give her a wink. “Hey, I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t find a way to benefit from the situation.”