Deadly Justice (18 page)

“I can't deny there's a pull between us, Sam.  I've tried fighting it, and I think it's a lousy idea to get involved when I should be focused on the endgame.  But I can't stop wanting you.” 

Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own.  With infinite care. she slid each button free of his dress shirt, exposing all those deliciously sexy muscles she'd been fantasizing about.  She was tired.  Tired of fighting every instinct that screamed he was bad news.  Tired of wanting and never having.  Tired of never being spontaneous and taking what she craved. 

“You're right,” she whispered, trailing her fingers along his arm, loving the way his biceps bunched beneath her touch.  “There is something between us, an undeniable chemistry.  I can't let it get between me and my goals, but I want you too much to fight this anymore.” 

She stood and held out her hand, waiting to see if he'd take it.  With a confidence she wished she could emulate, he slid his palm against hers and stood, wrapping his arms around her, and she laid her cheek against his chest.  Beneath her ear, the rise and fall of his chest eased some of her anxiety.  It had been a long time since she'd been with a man—nobody since John had been killed. 

“I want you.”  His softly murmured words were like a physical caress.  What was the point of fighting this pull she felt?  He'd made it plain he felt the same, inexplicably drawn to her.  Who knows?  Maybe one time would scratch the itch and they'd go on with their lives.  She shook her head, knowing she was lying to herself.  If she gave in to the pull of Samuel Carpenter, chances were good she'd never be the same. 

Could she take the chance of losing herself in him?  Giving in to the physical couldn't be separated from the emotional, not for her.  Casual sex wasn't in her make-up.  There needed to be a visceral connection that went beyond physical attraction. 

And she felt all that and more for the man standing before her, his arms wrapped around her.  Tightening her arms around his waist, she tilted her head back and said the words which could change everything.

“Make love to me.” 

H
er hands slid along his chest, teased the light furring of hair spread across it.  His breath hissed in at the light touch, and she felt her lips tug upward.  How could she not smile when she saw the evidence of what her touch did to him?  The clenched jaw as if it was chiseled out of solid granite?  The tensed muscles in his abdomen at her lightest caress?  Or the definitive evidence of the erection that tented the front of his dress slacks. 

“Andrea...”  His voice was an anguished whisper, raspy against her cheek.  He nuzzled her throat, leaving a trail of kisses along her heated skin.  Of its own volition, her head leaned to the side, granting him further access to the tender flesh along her nape. 

“Woman, you have no idea what you're doing to me.”

“I think I've got a clue.”  She reached down to cup his hardness, squeezing gently.  With a jerk, he pulled her against him, trapping her hand between them. 

“You're playing with fire.”

“Then lets burn together.”  

At her whispered response, he slammed his lips against hers, and she met him, all her pent up desire fed through the kiss.  No more running.  No more hiding.  This was what she wanted, had wanted from the moment they'd met. 

The stretchy fabric of her shirt inched upward.  He grabbed the hem and tugged until it pulled over her head and he flung it aside.  It fell to the rug covering the gravely textured roof.  With practiced ease, the hook in the front of her bra was opened, and the straps smoothed down her arms until it joined the blouse. 

His eyes stared at her newly uncovered breasts, the nipples tight and stiff.  Hard peaks, whether from the cool breeze or from his gaze, she couldn't say.  But that deliberate focused stare seared straight to her core, and she felt dampness pooling in her core. 

He bent and took a nipple in his mouth, as if she'd offered it to him as a reward.  A gentle tug was followed by a playful nip on the very tip.  Need coalesced into desire and sizzled along her spine and her muscles tightened in anticipation.  While he sucked on her nipple, a pulling sensation tugged at something buried deep within.  Tension coiled inside as her body spun out of control.  She burned with the need to feel him deep within her.  Every touch, every scent of the night surrounding them spiraled her higher.  The naughty possibility of somebody watching them whirled through her mind, but she quickly abandoned the fleeting thought.  They were on the rooftop, high above the surrounding buildings, with nobody else around. 

Her hands grabbed his arm, and her fingernails dug into his wrist, needing something to hold onto.  When he lifted his head away from her breast, she made a small sound of protest, a mewling cry of need.  Shifting to the other breast, he paid it the same attention he had its mate.  A tremble started in her legs, muscles fighting to keep her upright. 

Another stroke of his tongue glided over her breast.  A brush of his thumb feathered across the opposite nipple.  Her hips bucked against him, and he held her steady, while his touch elicited a myriad of sensations swirling through her. 

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she savored each sensation. 

“No, eyes on me.” 

His gruff command had her lids snapping open, her gaze meeting the intensity of his stare.  With a small smile, he bent to lick her nipples, and with each lap of his tongue, every touch, her body twitched and her core tightened in anticipation. 

“So beautiful.  Curvy and lush, with a promise of softness.  Perfect.” 

“But…”

“Don't interrupt, sweetheart.  I wouldn't lie to you.  Look at these.”  His hands reached down and cupped her breasts, and the heat in his gaze caused her to shiver.  “Beautiful, firm, and plush.”  One hand skimmed down across her belly and she winced.  She wasn't model thin and though she went to the gym, probably not as often as she should, there was a roundness to her belly that never went away. 

“Soft.  Sweet.”

“You don't have to say that.”  Her protest was halfhearted at best.  She wanted to believe he liked her curves. 

“Didn't I promise never to lie to you?  Not about something this important.  You're gorgeous.”  The ferocity in his tone convinced her he meant every word.

“Thank you.” 

His arm stole around her back and she froze, her breath caught in her chest.  She looked up into his gray eyes, then licked her suddenly dry lips.  With a nod of his head, he jerked his chin toward the lounger and turned her toward it with a slap on her ass.  A not-too-gentle one either. 

She frowned at him over her shoulder, but moved toward the chaise, and lowered herself down, lying on her back.  His face was a blank mask, showing no emotion as he stalked toward her, no reaction except for the blaze of fire in his eyes.  Desire burned like a living flame, engulfing her in its heat. 

The fabric was cool against the bare skin of her back and she snuggled down against the lush surface.  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  How long had it been since she'd wanted anybody the way she wanted Samuel?  Nobody had interested her, not since John's death. 

But there was something about Samuel, an inexplicable chemistry between them.  The heat every time she saw him.  It was off the charts explosive.  Earlier on the plane, she'd have given him everything.  Yet he'd been the one to slow things down, refusing to take things too far. 

The sound of rustling clothes drew her gaze to him.  He'd removed his shirt, and the sight of all those deliciously hard muscles made her stomach clench.  Toeing off his shoes, he quickly lost the socks too, before coming over to perch on the side of the lounger. 

His hand was gentle, threading through her hair, so sweet it nearly brought her to tears.  Lips touched hers in a kiss light, sweet, and so thorough as his tongue tangled with hers.  He drew back and she smiled up at him, his blond hair silhouetted by the night sky. 

“That was nice.” 

A wicked grin spread across his lips, and he murmured, “Let's see if we can do a little better than nice.”  His firm grip locked on both wrists, hard hands holding hers so she couldn't move.  He took her mouth again, plundering deep, possessing her with a ruthlessness she hadn't anticipated.  Every nerve in her body flared to life as if she'd been shocked by a bolt of lightning.  Arousal scorched through her and she bit back a moan.  Her body shook like an aspen in the wind when he broke the kiss.  She pulled in a shuddering breath. 

“Definitely not nice.” 

“Honest.  I like that.”  He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her bare back, and her cheek rested against his chest.  His heartbeat had sped up, no longer a slow and steady rhythm, while hers beat a rapid flamenco in her chest. 

One hand moved to nestle against her breast and she inhaled a sharp breath at his touch.  He rubbed his chin across the top of her head.  “I love the way you smell, sweetheart.  All flora notes and female, two things I adore.”

Okay, maybe she could lie here in his arms all night and listen to him.  Snuggle against his naked chest and let him talk in that low raspy growl.  Its deep rough timber was almost better than having sex with anybody else.

He tilted her head back for another kiss.  She went without a whimper of protest, her resistance all but vanished beneath a wave of need. 

“Sugar, be very sure this is what you want.”  Piercing gray eyes stared down at her, and she knew if she uttered a single word of protest, he'd stop.  He might have been a jackass while they'd been in Dallas, but it was part of getting the job done.  While she might not agree with his methods, she understood them. 

“I want you.” 

His mouth met hers again, his lips dominating in a demanding kiss.  His tongue delved in, tangling with hers, and his hands slid up to cup her breast, flicking at her nipples.  Each touch sent zings of electricity sparking, sensations spreading through her body until she was squirming against the cushions. 

Gaze intent, it trapped hers.  “Sweetheart, I can't be gentle this first time.  I'm going to push your limits.”  He nuzzled her cheek until his lips rested against her ear.  “And I promise you're going to scream over and over again before I'm through with you.”

She gasped at his words, and felt something deep in her belly unfurl at the implication.  Submitting to a lover had never appealed to her—not until now.  Her nipples hardened beneath his warm hands.  He obviously felt it too, because he chuckled before taking a quick nip of her earlobe, soothing the slight sting with a kiss.  It sent chills racing across her exposed skin. 

There was an aura of power about Samuel, though he maintained a tight rigid control.  With a breathless sigh, she let go, knowing she could trust him.  More than that, she
liked
him.  Liked the way he held her so firmly against him.  It made her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time—cherished. 

She raised a trembling hand to cup his cheek.  The slight roughness of his five o'clock shadow grazed against her palm and she pictured that bristly texture against her more intimately tender skin.  “Samuel,” she whispered, before pulling his head down for a mind-numbing kiss. 

When they broke apart, his eyes raked over her.  “Ah, Andrea, what you do to me.” 

One last kiss on his lips and she wiggled out from beneath him.  He turned to watch her.  With a gentle push, she guided him down onto his back.  He hissed as his bare skin met the cushions, still warm from her body. 

He squirmed a bit, and she nibbled on her lip to keep from grinning.  She liked him being a little bit off guard.  Surprising him.  With sure fingers, she unbuttoned the top of his pants, sliding the zipper down to reveal bare skin.  Her amused gaze met his.

“Commando?” 

He shrugged, the muscles in his abdomen bunching with an indrawn breath at her touch.  “Can't stand the things.  I'd rather go without.” 

“Good.  Makes it easier for me to do this.”  Her hand tugged him free, and she wrapped her fingers around his silk-over-steel covered warmth.  His breath held as she stroked him.  He was a thing of beauty.  Long and thick.  His torso was lean, with muscles at his hips that testified to his working out—a lot. 

“Do you like what you see, sweetheart?”  His tone was low, the words barely audible in a low, harsh groan. 

“Beautiful.”  Hundreds of women had probably told him that.  She spotted a small scar to the right of his hipbone, and knew immediately what caused it.  A bullet.  Bending low, she kissed it gently before tracing it with her tongue. 

“You should know, I've got scars.  Lots of them.” 

Her eyes met his.  “We've all got scars, Sam.  Sometimes, they're just not on the outside.   These,” she let her fingers tease lightly against the puckered flesh, “don't make you any less desirable.” 

He stood and reached into his pocket and pulled out a foil wrapped package, tossing it onto the table beside the chaise, before letting the pants drop to the rug beneath his feet.  Kneeling beside her, he leaned forward, and his mouth surrounded her nipple, sucking the tight peak between his lips.  His tongue swirled around the distended bud, and fire shot through her.  Her breath caught in her throat.  Fingers squeezed the opposite breast before cupping the mound in his hand, lifting it slightly and caressing the undersurface. 

“Samuel…”

He hummed against her skin, and her belly tightened.  The hand cupping her breast skimmed across her chest and down to her stomach and she sucked it in, trying to make it look smaller somehow.

He raised his head.  “Don't.  I want all of you, just the way you are.  Every single inch of you is perfect.  This,” his hand skimmed against her belly,” is perfect, because it's you.”  He leaned forward and placed the softest kiss against her belly button.  “Make love to me.  I need you.”

His fingertips skimmed across her hip and she quivered beneath his touch.  Ever since they'd met, she'd dreamed about this, fantasized alone in her bed at night, but those fantasies couldn't compare with the reality. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart.  I want to hear every sound.”  His tongue swept the undersurface of her left breast and she gasped.  “Every moan.”  She thrashed against the cushions when his hand splayed across her mound.