“YOU WERE AMAZING out there tonight.”
An embarrassing snort burst free as I dug through my purse in search of my keys. “Only because I had an audience to impress.” Unlocking the door, I pushed it opened and stepped inside, setting my purse on the entryway table before turning back to Sam. “You weren’t too bad yourself, ya know?”
“Pfft. Please. I think I spent more time sweeping the rink with my ass and climbing to my feet than actually skating. My back’s going to be sore for a week. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure an imprint of my ass cheeks are forever embedded on the ice. I can see it now. It will be like the walk of fame but for asses.” He lifted his hands in the air, making an animated gesture as if pointing and reading a huge sign. “Sam Copeland’s ass of fame.”
“Stop it.” I smacked his arm playfully, laughing so hard it made my stomach hurt. “You weren’t that bad.”
“Wasn’t I?”
“Okay. Maybe a little, but—”
“Wo-man.” He groaned dramatically, making a face that doubled me over for a second time. “You are not boosting my ego here.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It was worth it though, right?” I straightened myself, gnawing on the corner of my lip as my gaze flicked between the worn-out welcome mat and his startling eyes. “The falling and the skating, I mean?”
Sweeping a tendril of hair from my face, he tucked it behind my ear. His fingers remained beside my cheek, and I stared at him with my breath held high in my lungs as his thumb ran along the curve of my jaw, gliding at a torturous pace over my bottom lip. “Totally worth it.”
He started to pull away, and I stopped him. I covered his hand with mine, leaning into his palm, his touch. For a fraction of a second, I was convinced he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. The look in his eyes said he wanted to, too, but apprehension stiffened his movements.
Making the decision for him, I leaned in and brushed my mouth against his, a silent invitation.
Sam’s hands immediately circled my waist, and he kissed me softly, tenderly, before breaking away. Eyes closed, he rested his forehead on mine. “I should go.”
At his attempt to retreat, a switch of courage flipped inside of me, propelling me to him. Our mouths met for the third time that evening, tongues tangling, each stroke more desperate than the last.
“Stay,” I whispered, pleading against his lips. “Please stay.”
His hold on me tightened.
Strong fingers clutched my hips as if they never wanted to let go, and he walked me backward, his answer demonstrated by his actions. Want and need simmered low in my stomach like a slow burning flame, and I barely registered him kicking the door shut. The urgency of his strides matched my own as he swiftly but carefully guided me through my living room, making sure our mouths remained fused and our thoughts connected.
That was the thing about Sam.
He never pushed.
He allowed me to lead and dictate the steps, but tonight, I wanted him to navigate. It’d been so long since I’d walked this particular path, and I was frightened I’d make a wrong turn. I needed him to show me the way, to prove to me this wasn’t a mistake but rather the start of something quite intense, life-changing, and beautiful.
Upon reaching the sofa, he spun us in a circle and sat down, positioning me on top of him so my legs straddled his waist. Not once did my mouth mourn the loss of his as I shrugged off my coat nor as I slid my palms up his chest and over his shoulders to remove his. His hands left my body only momentarily to assist me, and as he leaned forward and tossed it to the floor, he splayed his fingers along the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.
Our kiss deepened.
His tongue explored the cavern of my mouth, seeking out every corner before colliding with mine in hot licks and uncoordinated strokes.
My skirt bunched up and over my hips, and as the rapidly building ache between my thighs intensified, Sam hardened beneath me.
“You …” He broke away from my lips, his words spilling across them on a gruff whisper. “I can’t get enough of you.” Palming my ass, he squeezed it gently before pulling me harder against him and reclaiming my mouth.
I tried to hold back the moan that came up my throat, but it was a wasted effort. A cold thrill shot through my blood at the feel of him—rigid and thick and completely turned on—and for the first time in a long time, I felt desired. I felt wanted. He was so solid and warm, and I was suddenly anxious to discover all the hidden parts of him, every dip and hard plane. Nerves swam in my stomach. Fear danced along my spine. My entire body, every inch of my skin, was alight with a desire I wasn’t used to experiencing, and the only person capable of satisfying the ache, held back.
Sam kissed me.
Explorative hands roamed, touched, and caressed, but that was all he gave me.
Nothing more, nothing less.
I severed our connection, my breath ragged and chest rising sharply as our lips broke apart on a wet pop, and I went for it. I pushed all my reservations aside and allowed my heart to lead.
Hooking my fingers around the hem of my sweater, I tugged it over my head and discarded it somewhere on the floor, swallowing hard at the stunned reaction on his face.
“Fuck, Cassi.” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head back against the cushion, an indication that told me I wasn’t only pushing the limits but crossing them. The muscle running along his jaw visibly tensed. He remained that way for a few beats before peering at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re killing me here.” A fire burned in his gaze, heating every part of me—parts that had felt dead and cold for entirely too long. “Really fucking killing me.”
Internally, I shook from anticipation, wanting this, but terrified of taking the next step.
Luckily, I didn’t have to.
With gentle ease, Sam ghosted his hands up my sides. His large palms were warm against my naked skin, the rough pads of his thumbs gentle as he circled them lazily over the thin black lace hugging my breasts. My nipples pebbled, my head lolling between my shoulders as he continued to tease me through the delicate fabric.
A sudden need to please him, to exact the same pleasure in him that he induced in me had me pressing my hips into his, rubbing against his steely erection.
He emitted a low growl, the sound completely carnal and full of barely contained control. “I’m trying so hard to take it slow with you, and you are making that task extremely difficult.”
“Am I?” My voice was breathy and needy, totally unrecognizable.
“Fuck, yes.”
Sam leaned closer, scorching a hot path of open-mouthed kisses over my jaw and along the column of my throat. He licked at the hollow at the base, and I closed my eyes, losing myself to the sensation of him and his touch—the way his coarse stubble scratched against my sensitive skin and how his swollen cock pressed hard along my inner thighs.
Anticipation roared through my veins.
Deft fingers unclasped my bra, and as the straps slipped from my shoulders and down my arms, Sam shoved the material away, freeing my breasts from their entrapment. His lips continued their seductive journey south, soaring over my collarbone and across the swells of my breasts. He drew my taut nipples into his warm mouth, biting gently, and I moaned in response. My body lingered on this fine line between pleasure and pain, tipping back and forth as Sam flicked his tongue over the hardened tips to lessen the sting. He remained there for several minutes, kissing and sucking, licking and teasing.
Goose bumps rose on my flesh, and lust swirled like a violent storm in my abdomen, its intensity growing stronger and stronger with each passing second.
Oh God. What are you doing to me, Sam? What are you doing to me?
I needed to feel him again—his strength, his hardness, the way his body responded to mine. I rolled my hips for a second time and then a third, creating a delicious friction that sent pulses of electricity down my legs and curling the tips of my toes.
My heart beat everywhere, insistently.
As I readied myself to repeat the movement, a frustrated and impatient groan rolled from the back of Sam’s throat, and in one fell swoop, he flipped me over, laying me on my back. His hips pinned me to the cushions as he hovered above me, one arm behind my head and bracing his weight, his free hand continuing to explore.
We kissed and kissed. Gentle nips and breathless pants. Wandering hands and racing hearts. We were a tangled mess of want and need, and I couldn’t think past how incredible it felt to have him on top of me, over me.
I want you, Sam. I want you.
Gently kneading my breast, Sam proceeded to slide his hand down my stomach. The tips of his fingers trailed along the waistband of my skirt in languid strokes, back and forth, back and forth.
“Sam … please.” I was begging, not quite sure what I was even begging for.
He hesitated and looked into my eyes, and whatever he saw working within them was all the permission he needed. His hand disappeared beneath my skirt and my tights, and as he rubbed me through the fabric of my thong, a moan floated from my lips.
A ripple of pure desire trembled through me.
Damp heat pooled.
“Jesus, you’re wet.”
My back arched, and I gravitated toward his touch, that ache pulsing now and needing attention. “I need you,” I rasped, the declaration coming on a breathy whimper.
Sam smiled against my skin. I felt it, but I wasn’t able to process much of anything at that point because he brushed my panties to the side, stroking two light-handed fingers through my wetness, circling them slowly around my throbbing clit before sliding down and plunging them inside.
I gasped out at his intrusion, the overwhelming sensation of being filled in the best possible way stealing my breath.
“God, Cass … You’re so tight—so warm.”
“It’s been a while,” I admitted through short pants.
“Then let me remind you how incredible it feels.” He kissed me again, his tongue delving deep and swirling as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. “How do you like it, baby?” His voice was low, a husky whisper as he left my lips and spoke into my ear. “Slow and gentle or fast and hard. Tell me what you like so I can get this right.”
“I don’t … I … ah ...” I licked my lips. Holy Shit. I didn’t know. And get this right? Was he crazy? He was a goddamn overachiever. His fingers were like magic, and damn, if he didn’t have my entire body thrumming under his spell. “Just like that.”
Sam alternated his thrusts, finding a rhythm that made me pant and whimper with each push and pull, and when he added his thumb, pressing it to my clit and circling with the perfect amount of pressure, I nearly broke apart in his hands. Pleasure coiled and twisted so fast and tight I could hardly breathe, and just when my body was seconds away from reaching a new kind of high, he pulled completely away, stopping.
He stopped.
Why the hell did he stop?
My eyes flashed open, and I cried out at the loss of him. His weight on me and the unusual solace it provided made me realize how incredibly hungry I was for it, for him.
He stared at me, once again awaiting permission. He wanted more—more than he was already giving me.
Nodding, I silently gave in to his request, my body longing for whatever this beautiful man had to offer. Making quick work of the button on my skirt, he curled his fingers around all my remaining layers and dragged them down my hips and over my thighs, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
I attempted to sit up and remove his shirt, but he gently nudged me down and shook his head. “Not tonight.”
Insecurity reddened my cheeks. Not tonight. Why not tonight? Had I done something wrong? Panic clawed at my chest, and sensing the shift in tension, Sam leaned in, softly kissing the tip of my nose and my lips—a quiet reassurance.
“Believe me when I say there is nothing more I want than to be inside you right now, but not tonight. Just let me do this, okay? Let me give you this. I want to make you feel good, Cass.”
You do, Sam. You make me feel incredible.
My insides melted at his words, and feeling entirely exposed but strangely comfortable under his piercing gaze, I whispered, “Okay.”
Sam held my eyes, but I swear he held so much more than that. He held every fear, every wish and desire—he held all my heartache.
Smoothing his hand up the back of my calf and following a similar path with his mouth, he lowered himself. Full lips grazed the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, the prickly stubble on his jaw an abrasive contrast, and I closed my eyes, silently handing myself over to him. I struggled to keep my breathing even and my heart from slamming out of my chest as I surrendered myself to this man—this man, who had unexpectedly come into my life and shown me what it was like to feel something other than pain, something other than guilt and sadness.
With tender nips and delicate kisses, he traveled higher and higher, trailing a path over my hip and down my lower stomach. His breath was like the heat of a thousand suns against my flesh, his tongue wet and soft as it glided in short and long strokes. He flicked the tip of it over my aching clit, and the sensation was too much. One hand fisted a pillow, the other his hair. A delicious coiling of tension built low in my stomach, rapidly gaining in intensity as Sam slid two thick fingers through my wetness.
“Oh God. Please don’t stop. It feels so …” My back bowed again, and my legs unconsciously parted a little more, my hips raising in an effort to match his rhythm.
“So ...”
“Good. It feels so good.”
A satisfied chuckle shook his shoulders as his fingers continued their motion. “You are so beautiful like this, you know that? Spread open for me, wet and aroused.” His tongue returned to my clit—licking, tasting, devouring. He released a hungry growl. “So fucking sweet.”
Within seconds, the tight coil snapped.
Unable to stifle the moan erupting from my throat, I cried out as I reached my climax. Pleasure whipped through me, clenching every muscle and every limb, and a white haze blurred my vision.
Tingles ricocheted across every cell.
It wasn’t until the haze faded and Sam hovered over me—my hands on his chest—that I realized how fast his heart was beating. It beat in complete tune with mine, and I gulped down the unexpected emotion threatening to suffocate me.
Please not now. Not now. Not with Sam. Not after what we just did.
Determined to stay in the moment, I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to feel guilt or regret. I didn’t want to think of Adam.
“Hey.” Sam stroked my cheek, concern heavy in his eyes as he stared at me. “Are you okay?”
Twin tears trickled down my temples and into my hair, several more ready and eager to follow in their path, and before I could sweep them away or offer this man so much as an explanation, because he deserved an explanation, he caught them with his lips and scooped me up in his strong and protective arms. “Breathe, Cass. Just breathe.”
My chest heaved, and a sob lodged itself in the back of my throat, choking me.
“Breathe, baby.” He repeated himself, smoothing his fingers over the back of my neck. “Breathe.”
Closing my eyes, I focused on the one thing that should have come naturally, the one thing that shouldn’t have taken effort or concentration.
I breathed.
I inhaled the pain and blew out the heartbreak.
Through all the turmoil, Sam held me tightly. His hands caressed away every shudder until I’d finally gained enough courage to glance up at him.
My chin quivered, and my eyes watered with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
The words felt empty, but God they were so full—full of everything I wanted to give him. I just didn’t know how. How did you give away your heart when it didn’t belong to you? How did you get it back when the person who owned it had once promised you forever—a forever that a sad, small part of you still desperately wanted?
He looked at me with regret, and I hated it. I didn’t want him to regret this, to regret us, to regret me.
“No. I’m sorry. I pushed you too far, too fast. I shouldn’t have—”
“You didn’t.” I shook my head adamantly. “You didn’t push me, okay? I wanted this. I want you, Sam. I’m just ...”
He finished my thought, the sound of it so heartbreaking as it left his lips. “Still learning how to let go of him.”
I sniffed back tears.
Why did that seem impossible?