For the Longest Time (17 page)

“Wow,” Sam murmured. “Shit, did I say that out loud?”

He smirked and pulled her toward him. “Mmmhmm.”

She skimmed her hands down his chest.
All mine
, she thought. It definitely left her giddy with power, though she thought that right now, a maniacal laugh might kill the mood. Instead, she reached down to grip the hem of her dress, but Jake surprised her by taking her hands.

“Can I?” he asked.

Surprised, she nodded and let go. There was something incredibly sensual about the way he slowly dragged the fabric up over her thighs, the backs of his fingers brushing over her hips, her waist, the sides of her breasts as she lifted her arms to allow him to take it all the way off. As he watched, she unhooked her bra and tossed it where her dress lay crumpled on the floor. All that was left were her boots and leggings.

It had been a long time since she'd felt so exposed in front of someone, unclothed or otherwise. Her nerves, absent until now, reemerged in a flurry of self-doubt. It was impossible to tell what Jake was thinking as he looked at her.

“I look like a topless superhero,” Sam said with a half
laugh, beginning to play with her fingers. Jake blinked rapidly, as though she'd woken him from a stupor, and then smiled as he shook his head.

“Sam,” he said, stepping closer. “You. Are. Beautiful. And please remember, I'm a guy, so . . . topless superheroes are really okay with me.”

He snagged her waistband with his finger and tugged. She went to him without resistance, unable to help the soft sigh when the bare skin of her breasts connected with his chest. Then he was teasing her again with his tongue, his clever mouth, making her forget her embarrassment and stoking her desire until she was moving restlessly against him, silently asking for more.

Jake steered her backward, around the edge of his bed while he kissed her senseless, until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress. Sam pulled back and slid down to sit, then pushed herself backward. Jake pulled the drawstring on his pants and slid them off slim, muscular hips. Sam's breath caught as his single remaining piece of clothing vanished onto the floor, revealing the contours of his thighs, the sculpted muscles of his abdomen . . . and the rigid thrust of his cock.

She hadn't realized it at the time, but Jake would have made an even better nude model than a clothed one. Shame she hadn't asked. Then again, some things were worth waiting for.

He crawled onto the bed after her, pausing to remove first one of her boots, then the other, and finally pulling off her leggings and panties in one quick sweep. When he'd thrown those somewhere on the floor, he gave her a slow, thorough perusal that made her feel as though she was blushing everywhere.

“Wow is an understatement,” he finally said, his voice
a low and sensual growl she'd never heard from him before. Jake gently pushed her legs apart while she watched him, propped up on her elbows, back arched. What remained of her self-consciousness vanished at his obvious appreciation. They both liked what they saw—and what they felt. It would be stupid not to revel in it.

His beautiful hazel eyes were more wolfish than human tonight, and he kept them fixed on her as he pressed his mouth to the inside of her knee. His lips on her skin tickled a little, and she smiled, her laugh a soft puff of air. Then he moved up a little farther, giving the skin low on her inner thigh a teasing lick. This time, there was no laugh, only a soft moan as the small frisson of pleasure rippled up her leg. He slowly worked his way up, giving each side ample attention until Sam had dropped full onto her back, unable to do much but respond to each brush of his mouth and tongue. When he finally parted the slick folds of her sex with his fingers and pressed a lingering kiss on the throbbing bud between them, she arched her back, mouth opening on a near-silent gasp.

Her hands fisted in the comforter as Jake began his sweet torment in earnest, teasing her with light strokes of his tongue, then interspersing them with hard presses that had her winding tighter and tighter, until the only breaths she took were shallow sips of air timed perfectly with every stroke. Her hips moved of their own accord, lifting into his mouth over and over. She could feel herself rushing toward climax, pulled along by a current she couldn't control.

Sam opened her eyes, looking down to see Jake's dark head between her thighs. It was enough to give her a final push as his tongue flickered over her swollen sex. She
cried out, body bowing upward as every muscle in her body clenched tight, then released on a wave of crushing pleasure.

She felt him move, showering her lower belly with kisses as she rode each ebbing wave. Sam watched him, her vision hazy. Her body was so sensitized that when he rose above her and his heated skin met hers, she quivered, giving a breathless moan while she twisted beneath him. He hardly looked real to her, his skin flushed, eyes alight. It was a fantasy made flesh—only so much better.

“Jake,” she murmured, lifting hands that felt weighted and boneless to stroke down his chest. His heart beat rapidly beneath her fingertips.

His breathing was ragged. “So beautiful,” was all he said. He pulled back, and she heard the drawer of his nightstand open, the crinkle of a wrapper. She waited, lids heavy, knowing he wouldn't be long. A few shallow breaths and he was against her again, sinking into her with a groan, filling her so that she stretched tight around him. Sam lifted into him, her head falling back as she skimmed her hands down to his hips. She could feel every pulse of him, and she lifted up, urging him even deeper. He began to move, slowly at first, sinking into her, stoking her desire until it was thrumming through her once again.

Sam gripped him more tightly, and Jake's thrusts grew faster, harder, until the bed shook with the force of them. His soft, guttural moans were driving her wild, pushing her back toward the edge of her control. Everywhere their bodies touched set off shock waves of pleasure, until she found herself ready to fall once again. Jake pulled back enough to look in her eyes, his hair wild from her fingers in it, his skin glistening. And she felt something
inside her, in the dark and hurt places she kept hidden, finally begin to warm. To heal.

Jake touched his forehead to hers, and she could feel him shaking, waiting at the edge himself. For her.

She pressed a kiss to his lips, different from the ones that had come before. Then, with only a hint of pressure from her hands, she asked him to take her over. Jake began to move in her again, his eyes closing as his head fell back. She could feel his muscles straining, and she clung to him, giving herself over to the moment. To him.

He thrust into her hard, a single word on his lips. Her name.

“Sam.”

And this time, they leaped off the edge together, wrapped around each other as the world narrowed to a tiny point of light, then burst into stars.

J
ake had never been a huge fan of mornings, but as he drifted slowly up out of sleep, one of his first coherent thoughts was that he could learn to enjoy them. As much as he loved Tucker, he was glad that for once, the other body in the bed wasn't covered in fur.

He breathed in deeply as his body gradually woke up, just enjoying the fact that the person curved into an “s” so he could fit her perfectly against him, tucking his knees behind hers and nuzzling her hair, was Sam. She smelled like a wonderful combination of her own light perfume and his cologne.

She smelled like
his
. And though he prided himself on his brains and breaking the dumb jock stereotype, he was just enough of a caveman to enjoy it.

“
Mmm
,” she said, a soft sound in her sleep. His hand rested on her hip, and he took pains not to move too much and wake her. He carefully lifted up just enough to be able to see her, eyes closed, dark blond lashes twined together, full lips slightly parted, and cheeks still a little pink from being abraded by his own. He guessed he'd have to start shaving a little more regularly. And maybe learn to cook something other than canned spaghetti for the next time she came over.

No way he was letting her be the only cook in the relationship.

Relationship
. He turned the word over in his mind. If they hadn't been there before, they certainly were now. And that was fine with him. Sam might take a little more convincing, but she'd had a rough go of it. After what she'd told him last night, it was no wonder she didn't have much faith in people.

So he'd just show her she didn't have anything to worry about anymore.

Jake leaned over and buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply and pulling her closer. She stirred against him, stretching languidly and yawning. Her wiggling woke him up the rest of the way.

“Morning,” he said, moving his mouth against the back of her shoulder. It was the first time he'd noticed her tattoo, a small black Halloween cat arching its back, almost tribal in its design and simplicity. It was a hidden surprise, and ridiculously sexy, he thought. It was also apt, and in more ways than one. Sam was cuddly when she wanted to be, but she definitely had claws.

“Morning,” she replied, turning her head enough that he could see her sleepy expression. Her lips curved in an inviting smile. He planned to take full advantage. Jake leaned in to nibble on her earlobe when Tucker started barking downstairs. An instant later, the bell rang. He frowned. Then he remembered.

Shane. Fitz. The boat.

“Shit.”

Sam's brow arched, and she twisted around to look at him as he fumbled out of the bed. He'd never been sorrier to leave a woman in bed in his life. Her mass of pale hair was a sexy mess, tumbling over her shoulders. She
didn't bother to cover her breasts, small and perfectly sized for his hands, instead letting the comforter tangle around her slim little waist. She looked like a satisfied nymph. And if he stared at her any longer, he was going to end up back in the bed while his friends went and found the spare key.

Some serious awkwardness would ensue. Not that that was really avoidable at this point.

“Problem?” Sam asked, shoving her hair out of her face and yawning again. She frowned and looked around as he yanked on his pajama pants. “Morning . . . morning . . .” Her eyes cleared all at once. “Oh my God, it really is morning.”

“Yep.”

“What time is it?”

“Um.” He grabbed his watch from the top of his dresser to have a look. “Eight thirty.”

Sam let out a guttural growl and threw off the covers. The sight of her creamy skin and long limbs in the morning light—
in his bed
—had him cursing the gods, his friends, and his own stupidity. Why had he agreed to this again?

Only
because they threatened to tie you up and throw you on the boat if you said no.

He'd been accused of being preoccupied and unavailable lately. He couldn't imagine why.

“Shit,” she said. Jake couldn't help but laugh. And the disgruntled glare she gave him didn't give him much incentive to stop. She threw a pillow at him with a surprisingly good arm.

“You jerk. I have to get home and change before work. I can't go in like this.”

“I like it,” Jake said as the doorbell rang again and
Tucker went into an ecstasy of barking. “I vote you stay this way all the time.”

Her look was withering as he headed out of the room, though he turned to watch her for just a few seconds more as she tried to find her clothes, scattered on the floor from last night. Some part of him still couldn't quite believe she was in his room. Naked. After having been thoroughly and repeatedly ravished by him.

Then he had to leave the room, before he said to hell with it and had her back on the bed beneath him.

Jake hurried down the stairs to where Tucker was dancing excitedly in front of the door. Shane's face was pressed to one of the side lights, deliberately grotesque as he let the glass push up his nose. Fitz was leaning against the other one. He unlocked the door and let Tucker greet them, thrilled as always to see friends. Especially these friends, since both Shane and Fitz had been known to sneak people food to the dog whenever they spent any time with him.

“One of these times I'm going to make you clean the glass,” Jake said.

Shane took one look at him and threw back his head with a groan. “Seriously? Did you just roll out of bed?”

Fitz, as always, was more understated as he rubbed Tucker behind the ears. “We'll watch TV. Just hurry it up. It's a perfect day to be on the water.”

They started to shove their way through the door, both looking startled when Jake moved to block their entrance.

“Why don't you guys just wait outs—”

He didn't get a chance to finish. The look of astonishment on his friends' faces was too comical, and they
muscled their way past him before he had a chance to finish speaking.

Jake turned his head, following their gazes to the top of the stairs, and saw what he expected to—Sam, self-consciously tucking one long lock of hair behind her ear as she made her way toward him. Even slightly rumpled and barely awake she was striking. She looked between Fitz and Shane before fixing her gaze back on Jake.

“I've, ah, got to get going,” she said. “Work.”

“Okay.” He caught her hand as she tried to slip by him at the bottom of the stairs. “Sam, I don't know if you remember these two idiots. Shane Sullivan and Henry Fitzroy?”

“It's just Fitz,” Fitz said, putting out his hand. Sam shook it, wearing an uncertain smile that wasn't much like the bright, open one Jake enjoyed seeing so much. Still, it was something. He tried to remember any particular interactions between Sam and Fitz, but he couldn't. Hopefully that was a good thing.

“I remember seeing you around. Soccer, right?” she said.

Fitz flashed a grin. “Yeah, better at kicking than catching.”

Shane was studying her so intently that Jake had no idea what was going through his friend's mind. Sam seemed to sense it, avoiding looking at him until he spoke to her directly.

“How've you been, Sam?” Shane asked. He made no move to offer his hand, and neither did she. Jake could feel the sudden rise in tension, and wondered what it was about.

“Good. I'm . . . fine. Hey, this has been great, but I
really do need to go.” She looked at Jake, and he was surprised to see that she was close to panic. “I'll see you later?”

“Seven sharp,” he said. “I'll bring the kittens and order pizza.”

That, at least, got a smile out of her. “Sounds good. Have fun doing, ah . . .”

“We're going out on Fitz's boat. I kind of forgot.” For some excellent reasons, which he would repeat in a heartbeat if given the opportunity. He gave her hand a squeeze to try to reassure her, but she was already pulling away.

“Well, have fun anyway,” was all she said with a fleeting smile as she headed for the door. “Nice seeing you guys.”

Then she was gone, vanished in a flash of black and gray and blond. Jake watched the door shut, then looked directly at Shane. “What the hell was that about?” he asked.

Shane shrugged, though it wasn't exactly an “I don't know” shrug. More like he just didn't want to talk about it.

“Nothing,” he said. “I told you it would be awkward.”

Jake had no intention of letting this go. Not after the look on Sam's face. “
What
would be awkward? What am I missing?”

Shane shifted uncomfortably, looking like an overgrown kid in that moment. Then he sighed. “I gave her a rough time after we figured out she had a thing for you. It was stupid, nothing major.”

“Define ‘nothing major.'”

Shane hunched his shoulders. “Standard taunting. You remember what my mouth was like at that point. You
figure it out. I'd kind of forgotten about it until you brought her up a couple of weeks ago, but I guess she didn't.”

“You think?” Jake rubbed his face with his hand. “Great. Fitz? You, too?”

“Nope. Too busy trying to get into Hayley McEnroe's pants.”

“Awesome.” He glared at Shane. “You could have mentioned this.”

Shane gave him a long-suffering look. “Why? You should always assume I was a dick in whatever situation we're talking about. I've told you that for years, and you ignore it.”

“Because you're not always a dick,” Jake snapped, utterly frustrated. “Why don't you just—”

“No.”

Jake stared at him. “I want to introduce her to everybody, Shane. An apology would probably go a long way.”

“Dude, it was
forever
ago. What do you want us all to do, line up and tell her we're sorry for treating her like shit back when she was weird and we were snotty teenagers? It was no big deal,” Shane growled.

“To you.”

“It shouldn't be to her, either. It was nothing. You weren't exactly polite to her, and it doesn't look like you're having a problem.”

“Because we
talked
about it,” Jake shot back, exasperated.

“Well, I'm not going to,” Shane said flatly, and the edge in his voice was a clear indication that he wasn't budging. Jake had known him a long time. When Shane dug his heels in, that was it. “Aren't you the one who was telling me we should be past all this high school crap? So
let's be past it. Let it go, Jake. It's not like anybody's going to egg her house or anything.”

“That's easy for you to say,” Jake said. “You aren't the one who ended up with the scars.”

Shane snorted. “We scarred her. Yeah, I can tell she's just barely handling life now. Okay. Whatever.”

“What do you
think
making somebody a target for years does to them?” Jake snapped. He hated this. He hated seeing this side of his friend, and he hated himself a little for having known it was there all this time and ignoring it. Because it had been easy. He was never in the line of fire. Even now he was just on the periphery.

Shane's laugh was sharp and humorless. “Jesus, Jake. This girl shows back up and you go from zero to champion in, like, the space of a couple of weeks just because she's hot and puts out?”

Something on Jake's face must have clued Shane into the fact that he'd crossed the line. He stepped back quickly and put his hands up, even as Jake was balling his hands into fists.

“Okay, look, maybe that was a little—”

“No, it was a
lot
over the line,” Jake said, his voice now deadly calm. Inside, he'd filled with a rage so potent it seemed bottomless, all the more because his own guilt was mingled with it. He wondered whether Shane had any idea how close he was to knocking his ass out onto the sidewalk. From his expression, he understood enough to stay out of range.

“Sam and I were friends back then,” Jake growled, noting the surprise on his friends' faces. “For a little while, anyway, until I screwed it up. I'm not screwing it up this time. And if you can't deal with her being around, then we've got a problem.”

“Wow. Nothing like throwing down the gauntlet.” It had been a while since he'd seen Shane look remotely guilty about anything. It made him wonder what else he didn't know about. And how he'd managed to be so oblivious back then, though that wasn't as hard to figure out. Not long after he'd embarrassed Sam, Cici had shown up at his window one night full of apologies and minus a lot of clothes, and he'd fallen back into their old pattern. Even then, he'd had to suppress the nagging feeling that being with her was more about habit and the comfort of the familiar than actual want. But their breakup had strained friendships and was promising to mess up his summer social activities, and he'd wanted things calm.

He'd wanted things easy.

That wasn't going to cut it this time.

“I'm dead serious.”

“I can see that.” Shane hunched his shoulders a little, looking at him like he might a dog with its teeth bared. “Fine, I'll be nice, if it matters that much. I'm not getting into all that high school crap, Jake. I'm not. But I'll be nice. Does that work for you, or are you going to take a swing at me?”

They stared at each other, and it didn't bother Jake to take a minute to think about it. Ultimately, though, what decided him wasn't what Shane had said—which was only slightly better than noncommittal—but the way he'd said it. It took a lot to get Shane to back down. But on this, he was giving ground. And having been friends with him for as long as he had, Jake understood that for Shane, that was a bigger deal than it might appear to the casual observer.

“Are we going?” Fitz asked. “I could leave and go
myself if you two want to fist fight, but it's kind of a waste of all the stuff I put in the cooler.”

Jake turned to look at Fitz, who didn't seem particularly intimidated, only curious, and who'd cut through the bullshit in a way that only Fitz could. He still nearly said no. But he was up, and Sam was gone. He and Tucker could use some fresh air. He had a life vest for the dog, and Fitz was always happy to have him on board.