Hot Mess (9 page)

She flew apart with a long cry, his name a sob as her body shuddered and bucked against him. He pushed her forward against the mattress even more, pushing her thighs together until his were on the outside of hers. She gripped him so tightly as he drove into her again and again, until the pressure in his balls just frigging exploded. He came hard, his body flying apart, dissolving.

When he came back to himself, he was on top of Georgie, who was sprawled against the mattress now, his cock still deep inside her, still twitching as her inner walls spasmed against him from time to time. They were both panting and sweating and the storm was still raging outside, though farther away now.

He pushed himself up and off her. He wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep for the next fourteen hours or so, but he had to remove the condom. He got up and went into the bathroom and then when he came back, he hesitated. She was still on her belly, still sprawled across the mattress, and he suddenly felt like an ass for using her so roughly.

He’d fucked her dirty, as if she’d wanted it that way when he knew nothing of the sort, and he wished he could start over, do it right this time. She was too precious, too special to treat so casually.

She turned her head, saw him standing there, and rolled onto her side. Her body glistened in the moonlight that streamed into the room now that the storm had passed over. She was curvy, perfectly made, and he wanted to fall to his knees and worship her, beg her forgiveness for daring to use her for his pleasure.

“That,” she said softly, “was fucking
amazing
.”

* * *

Georgeanne’s body ached, but in a good way. Oh, her hip was pretty sore, but she wouldn’t trade a moment of what had just happened for less pain. She frowned as she realized Sam was staring at her in that way of his that never meant well for her in the end. He was brooding about something when all she wanted was to wrap herself around him and go to sleep for a few hours so she could wake up and do it all over again.

“I was too rough,” he said brusquely. “I should have taken better care of you.”

Georgeanne pushed herself up to a sitting position. “What, are you kidding me? Did you just hear a word I said?”

He was standing there, not moving, and she took the opportunity to let her gaze slide over his naked body. Oh. My. God.

He was beautiful, big and muscled, with tattoos on his chest and biceps. His abs were tight and defined, his hipbones made her want to bite them, and his cock was still half-hard.

And completely beautiful. She didn’t have tons of experience with men—oh, she’d been to college and she’d been married to Tim, but no lover she could remember had been quite as satisfying. Sam knew how to use his body to get the most out of hers; that was for sure.

“You don’t have to pretend, Georgie. I was rough with you.”

“If that was rough, I want it again just as soon as possible.”

He came over and stood beside the bed, his eyes on hers. “You aren’t just saying that?”

She got up on her knees and put her palms against his chest. “Sam, my God, no.” She slid her hands over him, felt the smooth ridges of muscle, the nicks and dings of scar tissue where he’d been injured. She was so damned emotional right now, and it was all because of him. Because she’d felt like there was something wrong with her, like she wasn’t all that desirable. Tim had left her for another woman. How could she not take that personally? How could she not think there was something wrong with
her
response in bed? If she couldn’t satisfy Tim, who had fairly vanilla tastes, what did that say about her?

But then Sam had just made love to her in ways that were a revelation. He hadn’t treated her like a princess on a pedestal. He’d treated her like a woman with earthy tastes and needs, and she’d loved every moment of it. He hadn’t been rough, or even particularly kinky—he’d just been wrapped up in the moment, and so had she.

And she damn well wanted more of the same.

“Don’t lie, Georgie. Because if you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll do it again. I’ll start out wanting to be gentle, wanting to take you carefully, and I’ll end up forgetting and just taking you however I feel like.”

She shivered. “Oh wow, I sure hope so.”

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back and she pressed her mouth to his pec. She hadn’t gotten to taste him earlier, and she’d desperately wanted to. His skin was hot, salty, and she ran her tongue down to his nipple, swirling around it.

His breath hissed in. “You’re making me hard.”

Her stomach hollowed with need. “Oh goodie. Because I want you again, Sam. I need you to make me come.” She kissed his chest. “Over.” She moved her mouth lower. “And over.” She moved lower still. “And over…”

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHEN GEORGEANNE WOKE AGAIN, the sun was up and Sam was gone. She could hear him banging around in the kitchen, so she wasn’t worried. She stretched, her body rippling with pleasure.

Sam was a force to be reckoned with in bed. And she was surprised to learn that she wasn’t far behind. She wanted to experience everything with him. She wanted his passion, his incredible body, his intense focus. When Sam made love to her, he committed himself fully to the act.

His tongue and teeth were magic—as were his fingers, his cock, and the way he just knew how to touch her or move inside her at precisely the right moment. He’d made her scream his name too many times to count. He’d talked dirty to her when she’d tentatively asked him to. She hadn’t been sure if he would—or even if she would like it—but my God, the way her body clenched when he whispered that he was going to fuck her hard and fast. She’d shattered with little more incentive than those words and his body deep inside hers.

She was, she was discovering, adventurous and enthusiastic. It was such a revelation after the last several years that she wanted to call Tim and Lindsey and tell them to kiss her ass.

She wouldn’t, of course, because ladies did not act that way. She stifled a giggle when she thought of her beauty queen mother instructing her on proper etiquette and the ways in which a true lady behaved.

A true lady probably didn’t ride her lover’s cock with abandon or beg him to suck her nipples hard while she came either. Both of those were things that Georgeanne had done last night.

And she wasn’t sorry for it, either.

She got up and went into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and took a very quick shower before slipping into a maxi dress and piling her hair on top of her head. When she went into the kitchen in search of coffee, Sam was there, his back to her, scrambling eggs and fixing toast, and her heart just sort of melted.

He was shirtless and he had a tribal tattoo that spread from his shoulder to the small of his back. She hadn’t noticed last night because she hadn’t exactly been looking there.

“Wow, that must have hurt,” she said.

He glanced at her, and her heart sort of skipped a little bit. He didn’t look like he was cutting himself away from her, but he didn’t look as open as he had in bed either. She knew what he was thinking about. Or she thought she knew.

In the broad light of day, he’d be thinking pretty hard about her family and how it was some kind of a betrayal to sleep with her. Which was ridiculous considering they were adults and this wasn’t the Middle Ages, but it was still so much like Sam to be concerned about her family. She wanted to kiss him senseless and smack him silly at the same time.

And then she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.

That thought gave her pause, because it was a pretty intense thought. Yeah, she’d been in love with him once, but she’d done a whole lot of living since then. She wasn’t the same naïve girl she used to be, and love wasn’t something she could ever approach with the same innocence she once had. She’d been burned by it too badly.

Besides, you couldn’t be in love with a man you’d barely spoken to in twelve years, even if he had given you pretty much the best sex of your life. She loved him as a friend. Always had, always would. But more? Not likely.

“Things worth having often hurt. And yeah, tattoos fucking hurt.”

“So why do it?”

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to.”

“Sounds like a good enough reason to me.”

He turned around and set a plate with eggs and toast on the counter in front of her. “You all about doing things because you want to do them now?”

He was mocking her, so she stuck her tongue out at him. She didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened or the way her pulse kicked up in response. “I’m a free spirit, Sam. I go where the wind blows me.”

“Where’s it blowing you today?”

She arched an eyebrow. “I think it’ll blow me to my laptop to grade papers. Then it’ll blow me outside for a look at the water, maybe a short walk. Then it’ll probably blow my clothes right off.”

“You planning to be inside or outside when that happens?”

She shrugged. “Depends, I guess.”

“On what?”

“On where you are in relation to me and how badly I need your cock inside me.”

He closed his eyes then and swallowed. “Georgie, when you say things like that…”

“Makes you hard, right?”

“Makes me fucking crazy. Makes me want things…”

“What kind of things?”

He turned away from her and poured some coffee. “Eat your eggs, Georgie.”

She forked some into her mouth and swallowed. “You’re a mess, Sam McKnight. But you sure are a hot mess.”

* * *

She was driving him crazy. Sam didn’t remember ever being so wound up over a woman in his life, though he knew that a large part of it was the fact this was Georgeanne Hayes and he’d decided a long time ago that she was off-limits to him. He was having a hard time remembering why he’d decided such a thing when he thought about the two of them in bed together, but then he remembered they were here in this cottage because she was in trouble and he was supposed to be protecting her. That made him remember why his kind of life wasn’t right for a woman like her.

She was a college professor and a friend, and she was still hurting from her divorce. How could he possibly be what she needed in her life right now? He shouldn’t have touched her last night—but he’d been unable to stop himself. She’d been so wounded and vulnerable, and he’d just wanted her to know that she was perfect in his eyes.

Tim Cash was a douchebag. How could he screw around on a woman like Georgie? He’d had everything and he’d fucked it up. Sam couldn’t imagine how Tim could have wanted another woman when he’d had Georgie in his bed.

Jesus. A part of Sam wanted to rewind the clock and take back everything that had happened last night, so he wouldn’t feel this damn guilt wrapping around his soul when he thought of explaining what he’d done to Rick.

“I’m worried about her, Sam. Can you check on her?”

“Sure thing, bro. While I’m at it, I’ll fuck her for good measure.”

Sam gritted his teeth. Yeah, like that’s what he’d say to her brother. But it’s how he felt. Like he’d betrayed their friendship in some way when he’d used Georgie for his own gratification.

Yet he still wanted to strip her down to her bare skin and lay her out on the nearest flat surface so he could touch and taste and feel his way to bliss one more time. She’d rocked his world last night, and not just because she said things that shocked him—because she was Georgie and she was supposed to be prim and proper—but also because she was so honest and real with her feelings. She believed in him, and that both terrified him and buoyed him at the same time.

Not many people in his life had ever believed in him. The Hayeses had, but he had to imagine they wouldn’t be pleased about him and Georgie. Not that there was a him and Georgie. Still, he knew what kind of life she was supposed to have, what kind of life they wanted her to come back to Texas for, and he had absolutely no place in it.

Georgie was meant to be lording it over the Junior League while tending her three perfect children, maintaining her McMansion in the right part of town, and making love to her happy husband every night.

Jesus, and wasn’t that just perfectly sexist of him? He tossed in an image of Georgie as a CEO, put the handsome and happy husband at home in an apron, and felt much better about the whole thing. Well, not better, but more politically correct anyway. So long as it ended with Georgie in Hopeful—or Dallas or Austin, maybe—everything would come out right.

“I expect you’re thinking about my family again,” she said from behind him.

He turned and leaned back against the counter, watching her eat. Her hair was piled on her head, exposing the slender column of her neck. Her creamy skin had marks that he’d put there, and it filled him with a male satisfaction that was hard to deny. They weren’t dark marks, or even very noticeable. But he knew.

“Hard not to. Rick asked me to check on you, not take you to bed and do dirty things to you.”

She grinned. “And how I loved those dirty things. You can be dirty with me anytime, handsome.”

Sam shook his head, though his heart rate kicked up just a bit. “What would your mother say if she heard you talk like that?”

“Mother believes that a woman should know her mind—and demand what she wants out of life.”