Leather and Lace (Tempered Steel Book 2) (4 page)

The doorbell rang. She gave up second guessing and went to answer it.

The gleam in Bob’s eyes as he escorted her to the car made her feel the extra care she had taken with her appearance was worth it. She wished Sam would look at her that way. With Sam, she’d settle for just plain looking ‘at her’ instead of ‘through her’.

The restaurant was crowded. They waited at the bar for a few minutes. Angel glanced around, but she didn’t see any of the Coalson brothers. Since the place really was an old mansion, there was dining available in several rooms. Wouldn’t it be ironic if, after all this trouble, they were seated in a different part of the house away from Sam?

After requesting a white wine, they were shown to their table. As Angel rounded the corner of the bar, she saw Sam. He was seated with his brothers at a corner table. She felt Sam’s gaze on her. She faltered a step, but pride and determination kept her going on.

Perhaps, it would have been better to be in a different area of the restaurant she decided as they were seated directly across from the Coalsons. Opting not to have Sam staring daggers at her all evening, she chose to sit with her back to him. Hopefully, Bob wouldn’t notice.

“So, Angel, why did you decide to have dinner with me tonight? Don’t get me wrong. I’m delighted. I’m just curious.”

Angel looked at his earnest face. He was a handsome man with a slim build and dark hair, slightly graying at the temples. She pegged his age at mid-forties. He was always a gentleman to her and Frankie, even helping to move boxes and mannequins to the basement. She liked him immensely in that “friends only” way and felt bad about deceiving him. She put her hands on the table and decided to confess all. Before she could, he forestalled her.

“The reason wouldn’t have anything to do with the man sitting directly behind you who looks ready to kill me, would it?” He smiled and took a sip of wine.

Angel was completely embarrassed. Well, now, she was definitely going to tell all. So much for Dottie’s great plan. “Yes, I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, Bob. I never meant to deceive you – no, that’s not true. I told you it was a business dinner, but I really wanted to …” she trailed off, ashamed of her conduct.

“Make old stone face over there, jealous?” Bob finished for her with a grin. “Personally, I think I’m better looking. So, let’s dance and you can make him simmer in his own jealousy, and I’ll get to hold you in my arms.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Just between you and me, I think I’m getting the better deal.” He winked at her.

“Why are you doing this?” Angel whispered as Bob drew her up and headed for the dance floor.

“Maybe because the man’s a fool and deserves what he gets for not grabbing you up when he could have. And this is definitely better than spending another night watching Seinfeld reruns,” he murmured as he pulled her close. He whispered in her ear. “And maybe, I was once a jerk like that and lost someone as precious as you. I hope he will wise up and treat you right.”

Angel stared at his tie. “Thank you, Bob. For everything.” She smiled up at him.

“Then again, maybe he’ll continue to be an ass and you’ll decide I’m the better bet.” He pulled her closer and she stiffened.

“I’m joking,” he whispered. “He’s looking over here. Let’s give him something to think about.” He twirled her around the dance floor until she was out of breath and laughing.

Angel noticed that Sam did nothing but sit and stew.

After a surprisingly enjoyable evening, Bob lead her out into the night and drove the few miles back to town. “I hope our little dinner date helped. Feel free to call on me as a stand-in anytime. I enjoyed it.”

Angel smiled back at him. “I believe that this was my first and last attempt at making Sam jealous. You saw him. He didn’t so much as move a muscle while I, on the other hand, danced the night away.” She looked out the window. “I think I’m deluding myself. He’s not going to forgive me.”

“If you want to talk about it …” he began, then glanced in his rearview mirror. He gave a low whistle. “Well, I don’t know about forgiving, but he definitely moved a muscle. I think that’s him coming up behind us now.”

Angel glanced out the back window. “Well, what do you know? It is him. I’d recognize that Harley anywhere.” Not to mention the powerful build of the man riding it. She easily remembered how it felt to be on the back of that powerful machine. How the smell of Sam’s leather jacket and the smoothness of it under her hands, still made her tremble with repressed desire. They had roared down the River Road, happy and carefree in their young love.

With a growl, the Harley passed them in a blur. Bob chortled. “If he’s not careful, he’s going to get a ticket. He’s driving like he’s being pursued by demons.” He glanced at her. “Maybe not demons but the little green monster called ‘jealousy’.”

“I do believe you’re right, Bob.”

He dropped her off at her door, refusing her offer of coffee. “He’s out here somewhere. We want to make him jealous, not murderous,” Bob smiled.

Angel watched Bob drive away into the night. She thought again about what a nice man he was. Maybe Frankie would be interested.

A soft growl rent the quiet street, growing increasingly louder. Angel smiled as she turned on the lamp by the window. Seconds later, she saw Sam drive down the street, pausing at her house. She couldn’t resist. She blew him a kiss.

Her cell phone pinged.

I’m coming in.

Excitement rushed through her. This was what she wanted. Tonight she would make him listen. She opened the door as he opened the gate, then turned her back on him and headed for the stairs and her personal quarters.

Sam jerked her round, his fingers sliding through her hair to pull her closer to his invading lips. She sighed at the sensual pleasure-pain that only he could give her. He slammed his mouth onto her. He thrust his tongue in and attacked her like he had been waiting forever for another taste of her. Her tongue dueled with his and their teeth clashed.

Mine. She is mine.

Sam’s mind repeated again the possessive words as he shoved her against the wall, lifting her legs and encircling his waist, the heels digging into his lower back. He welcomed the pain. It put him one step closer to thrusting into her. He felt her heat against his jeans, the thin silk of her panties deterring his impatient fingers.

“I don’t like panties.” he growled as he grasped them. With a twist, they tore away, leaving her open to his questing fingers. “You will never wear them again.”

“Well, not that pair anyway,” she murmured. She gasped as his thumb circled her clit.

“Not any pair, baby.” He thrust a finger in her slickness. “This is mine. I like it uncovered.” Sam thrust another finger into her tightness as he flicked her swollen nub. She exploded in his arms, pumping her pelvis against his hand as she climaxed.

She vaguely heard her home phone ringing, but then Sam unfastened his jeans, pulling his briefs down, and she lost all thoughts in her head. He was beautiful. She reached out to caress him, loving the feel of such hardness encased in velvet skin. She swiped at the pre-cum on the head, bringing it to her lips, remembering his taste from long ago.

“
Hey, sweetie. Just calling to check on you. You’re not answering your cell.”
Frankie’s voice came across the answering machine, and Angel came out of her sensual haze in a snap.
“How did the date go? Did you have Sam shaking with jealousy? I can’t wait to hear all the details. Call me!”

Angel looked at Sam. She saw the anger and loathing spread across his handsome face. “Sam,” she beseeched, struggling to cling to him as he pulled her legs from around his waist. She stumbled slightly as she slid down the wall, her dress still rucked up about her hips and the lower half of her body still exposed. She caught him staring at her and reached for him. He slapped her hand away.

“This was a set up? It wasn’t enough, what you did that day at the courthouse? You had to try humiliating me again? I guess you are your father’s daughter.”

Angel reacted as if he’d slapped her. She crumpled into a ball of misery.

“Don’t you have any self-respect at all?” he mumbled as he pulled his jeans up and fastened the button.

“Get up! You need to be up early in the morning to tell all the gossips about how you got poor old Sam panting after you again.” He hauled her up against the wall again, his hand going around her throat. “My dick might not have any sense, but my brain does. So you want to fuck, give me a call. Otherwise, leave me the hell alone.”

He turned and opened the door. “And you better not be wearing panties when you call.” He stomped through the gate, slammed the bike into gear and roared off into the night.

Angel stared at the closed door, trying to stop her tears.
Dammit! He was so close. He wants me, I know it. He still has feelings for me. Why did Frankie have to call?

Angel took off her heels and started up the stairs, swiping at her tears.

He thinks he can order me not to wear panties. He says I have no self-respect. He only wants to fuck me. He says my body is his. He wants me to call him, without panties on…
Angel hiccupped and thought about that statement.
He wants me to call him….He said his dick doesn’t have any sense……He said to leave him alone…..He wants me to call him…..

Angel smiled as the realization hit. He was talking about himself.
He wants me; he has no self-respect; his dick – his heart; his brain – his stubborn nature; no panties – my body is his; call me – don’t give up on me.

She ran up the stairs and threw herself on her bed. But what if she was wrong? Just reading what she wanted into his words? She turned and grabbed the teddy bear Sam had won for her so long ago, from its special place on the nightstand. She stared at her picture of Sam, sitting next to it.
I love you, Sam. I need to know if we can mend this or if I’m destined to be alone.

Well, there was only one way to find out, she surmised as she hopped off the bed. She undressed quickly, then got into bed. Sam’s cologne still clung to her skin. She was about to take the biggest gamble of her life, but if she won, she was going to be with the man she loved. If she lost, she’d know that Sam Coalson didn’t want her in his life. It was time to pull out the big guns.

Chapter Four

Two weeks. Two goddamn weeks since that dinner at the Brockton, and he had no idea if Angel was with that douchebag McIntyre. He had no priors, good credit, nothing out of the ordinary, but as far as Sam was concerned, he was a dead man walking if he so much as laid a hand on his Angel. Sam may have retired, but he had enough friends still in the SEALS to keep tabs on good ol’ Bob.

Sam sighed with weariness as he stepped into his mother’s shower then gasped as the ice cold spray hit him full in the chest. He cursed aloud at the reason for his daily cold showers. Daily? More than likely, it was becoming an hourly ritual. See Angel. Take a cold shower. He’d tried to banish her through hard work at the farm today, but no such luck. He was in a perpetual state of arousal. It was killing him.
Why the fuck wouldn’t she call?

Angel had been coming up to the farm ostensibly on the excuse that the Civic Women’s Club had agreed to her proposal for christening the marina. Since his mother was president of the club and a member of the marina project committee, she had plenty of excuses to visit the family.

She took every excuse she could find to be near him, to touch him, however innocently. Her soft voice and sweet scent surrounded him until he thought he would go mad. When he couldn’t take anymore, he would lash out at her in anger, but she would plaster on her “Mona Lisa” smile as she practically devoured him with her eyes. He felt like a piece of meat in a butcher shop. Heaven help him, he liked it. And people could tell.
No self-respect, Sam. That’s what folks were going to start calling him.

He knew why she was doing it. She wanted a chance to explain her actions of so long ago, and she was hoping for a reconciliation. Since that fateful day in his mother’s kitchen when he had exposed his vulnerability to everyone there, she had been playing on his desire without mercy. She’d brought her A game and he was helpless to defend himself against her. He didn’t know how much more he was going to be able to stand before his stubborn pride crumbled, and he gave her what she wanted.
Why won’t she fucking call?

Screw it. He finished his ablutions and turned off the water, reaching around the shower curtain for a towel. His cold shower hadn’t helped much. He was still rock hard. The memories of Angel’s voluptuous body haunted him. She was so beautiful in her pleasure. He shook his head in disgust, sending tiny droplets of water splattering across the tiled wall and slapping himself in the face with his wet hair. He needed a haircut. He needed to get on with his life and stop thinking about her. Maybe it had been a bad idea to come home. He smoothed back his hair with an impatient hand and yanked open the curtain, stepping out.

He came to a standstill.

Angel was leaning nonchalantly against the vanity, her elbows supporting her weight, her breasts thrust outward and her legs crossed at the ankles. The white peasant blouse and indigo broomstick skirt accentuated her tan and made her look fresh out of high school.

She gave him a silent perusal then looked him straight in the eye. “I can tell you’re happy to see me.” She had tried for a sophisticated attitude, but her blush was evident in her face and voice.

Sam realized he had dropped his towel back into the tub. He was standing there buck naked. He frantically scrambled for the towel, which was now sopping wet. He slapped it around his waist, scowling at her in embarrassment.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” he roared.

“I came in to get you for dinner. Ginny invited me this afternoon, remember? I tried to knock, but the shower must have drowned out the sound. I thought maybe you had hurt yourself or perhaps, fallen in the tub. But I can see you’re quite …healthy.” She deliberately lowered her voice to a sexy whisper that flowed over him like silk. She smiled serenely at his discomfiture.

“Thanks for the message. I’ll be out in a minute. Now if you don’t mind…,” he gestured toward the door with one hand, keeping the dripping towel firmly around him with the other. His sweet Angel of long ago had turned into a sexy temptress. He wondered where she had gotten the practice. The thought fueled his anger even as he grew harder at her nearness.

Angel reached over and handed him a dry towel from the rack. “I don’t mind at all. I wouldn’t want you to catch cold. Can I get your back for you?” She ran her tongue suggestively over her lips as if she would lick the droplets from his body.

Sam sucked in his breath at her blatant display. Summoning his last vestige of control, he decided to take the aggressive approach. Even though she talked like an experienced woman, the blush on her cheeks gave lie to her wantonness. At least he hoped so.

Sam stepped out of the shower, dropping the wet towel on the floor and wrapping the dry one around his frame. Feeling less naked, he advanced on her until he was a hair’s breath away. He felt the muscle in his cheek ticking. His head was beginning to ache with the effort it took not to touch her. Tapping down on his lust and gripping his anger like a sword, he demanded, “Why are you here? And don’t give me some crap about dinner or that you’re helping my mother. Just what do you what, Angel?”

“You.”

Angel’s words lashed across Sam’s mind like the crack of a whip. Well, he had no one to blame but himself. He had backed her into a corner with his questions and she had been honest. Brutally so.

He felt the tension in the air and he knew this was the showdown. He was sinking fast so he grabbed at his only lifeline. Summoning all the disdain he could muster, he retorted. “Yeah, well, Angel, baby, we don’t always get what we want. You didn’t call ahead. I’ve got plans. Why don’t you try your tricks on some other poor sap. I’ve had all I want of your charms.”

He plastered a contemptuous sneer on his face as he looked her over from head to toe, praying that this final humiliation would do the trick. If she didn’t leave him now, she would never give up on them.

But did he want her to give up? He had told himself it was over for so long, he could almost believe it. Yet every time they came in contact with one another, the memories would wash over him. The future without her looked bleak and hopeless.

Hopeless.

The word was so apt for his heart. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. He could have her, but never trust her. Or he could leave her alone and be miserable for the rest of his life.

“Prove it.”

“What did you say?” Sam eyes widened.

Angel tossed her head back. “You heard me. I said prove it. Prove to me that you don’t want me. That what we shared was nothing more than some crazy memories,” she advanced on him until he could feel her breath on his face. “Your words lie, but your eyes tell the truth, every time we touch.” She leaned in, putting her hands on his chest and whispered in his ear, “Not to mention your cock.” She dragged her soft hand down his chest toward his erection.

He gripped her wrist. “I don’t have time for these games, Angel. You’re wanting something that isn’t there anymore. You want me to admit I’d like to fuck you, yeah. I’m human and you’re beautiful.” He was feeling cornered and he was afraid it showed.

Her scent surrounded him. She was weaving her magic around him and he was afraid this time there was no escape. He took a step backward to put some distance between them, but there was nowhere to run. He hit the toilet with the back of his calves and sat down heavily on the lid.

The hateful words fell in the silent room, shattering all pretenses, leaving Angel vulnerable, exposed and
excited
. If she could just put a crack in his pride, then she could hope for their future. His words might lie, but his body told the truth. He was sporting a mighty fine erection under that towel.

Throwing herself at him at every opportunity was the quickest means to this particular end. His actions the other night had assured her of that. But being so blatantly wanton was against her nature. She didn’t think she could go on much longer without dying from his rejection.

Angel watched the play of emotions on Sam’s face. She saw his desire, but was it enough? Could she turn that desperation into love? It didn’t matter at this point. She knew it was now or never. If he rejected her now, she would find a way to live without him. She was out of ideas on how to reach her stubborn, proud man.

She advanced on him, using every seductive trick she had read in her romance books. With slow deliberation, she sauntered over to stand between his legs, showing him all the passion she was saving just for him. She leaned a hairs breath from his face.

“I did as you commanded.” She gazed at his magnificent chest. Inch by sensual inch, she raised her skirt and lifted her long legs, languorously straddling him while her tongue glided across her wet lips. She was rewarded with the sharp intake of Sam’s breath as she slowly closed the distance between their bodies.

“See? No panties.” Lightly skimming her body over his chest, she slid erotically down onto his lap. The shock of his body pressed so intimately against hers made her shake from head to toe. She looked into Sam’s eyes and knew the wait was over.

He surrendered to her seduction, his lips claiming hers in a kiss so fraught with hunger and desire that Angel was breathless under his onslaught. He knew he was lost the minute she had lifted her skirt, but he no longer cared. The sight of her pussy gliding closer to his cock, made him lose his mind. The passion he held in check burst forth. He could no longer worry about the past or his reasons for keeping his distance. What mattered was here and now. His Angel was giving herself over to him and by God, he was going to take her.

What she was so willingly offering him, he had dreamed about for fifteen frustrating years. He had been a man caught in a nightmare of his own making fated to only dream of her. Even his most erotic dreams couldn’t compare with the feel of her in his arms again.

His mouth slanted over hers time and again, each of them gasping for breath, unwilling to break contact until absolutely necessary. Sam’s arms crept up her thighs, and she shivered. He gradually encircled her legs, lightly cupping her buttocks.

God, she missed this! His touch sent spasms of gooseflesh breaking out all over her as he circled his fingers around her mound, keeping her on the edge. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he ground out. He needed to punish her, to control her. He needed to claim her.

“Some things are better delivered in person.” She smiled that Mona Lisa smile again.

With a lover’s curiosity, she lowered her hands from his shoulders, down to his chest, feeling the light sprinkling of hair tickling her palms. She remembered the younger Sam had a smooth chest. He was no longer an eager teen. He was an experienced man with a man’s body. He was her man.

The warmth of his skin and his unique male scent made her bolder than she ever knew she could be. She wanted to touch him, lick him,
smell
his need. She traced his nipple, noticing its hardness, gently plucking at the bud, pleasuring him the way she ached for him to touch her.

Sam drew the peasant blouse down from her shoulders, and with a flick of his fingers, the front clasp of bra gave way, sending her full breasts tumbling into his waiting hand. Angel gasped in heady reaction. She didn’t believe it was possible to be more aroused, but when Sam stared at her breasts, she felt them swelling even more, the nipples hardened nubs begging for his touch.

She couldn’t stop the tiny shriek as he touched his tongue to the welcoming bud. It electrified her. She moaned, drawing him closer, weaving her hand through his hair. He took her breast fully in his mouth, suckling her flesh. She bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pleasure-pain as he nipped her with his teeth.

Angel ground her hips against his erection, tossing his towel away, reaching for his engorged manhood.

“Oh God, baby, yes,” Sam growled out as he pushed himself into her hands. ‘Touch me.”

Angel grabbed him with both hands, rubbing her finger across his slit, moistening her finger in his pre-cum. She drew her finger to her lips and tasted him as she moved her mound against him. She pumped against his erection as she gripped the head, overcome with desire for him.

Leaning forward, Angel pressed her breasts to Sam’s waiting mouth, easing up on tiptoes to fit him to her silky entrance. Wincing slightly, she slowly began to slide onto him as he adjusted on the seat trying to ease her discomfort.

With a slight pop, the hinge on the toilet seat gave way, jerking them both to the side. Angel gasped in pain as she slammed down on Sam. He tilted to the side. She flailed wildly as she started to fall, grasping hands finding purchase on the shower curtain. It couldn’t hold and with a rending tear, collapsed upon both of them. Sam frantically tried to cushion their fall as they were still intimately connected. He cracked his forehead on the sink but managed to hit the cold tile first so Angel was on top. He twisted quickly once again, taking Angel underneath him as the shower rod pulled from its moorings and cracked him on the back of the skull.

Shit! That hurt!
He felt Angel shuddering underneath him and lifted onto his elbows. She smiled up at him with such a mischievous smile that he couldn’t help but smile back. She started to laugh, that joyous belly laugh that made him yearn to be as free and happy as she looked. And then she snorted, and he knew he was lost. Of all the damn fool things to do, he had to let her goad him into making love to her. He could feel her skin on his fingers and her taste on his lips. He smelled her arousal on his cock. And she just kept on giggling and snorting. This was
His
Angel. He sighed.
How was he supposed to ignore her now?