PleasureBound (6 page)

Left standing numb and dumb, Sam stared after his retreating
back. What the hell had she done?

Chapter Seven

Adam didn’t think he’d ever been subjected to a mode of
transport quite as uncomfortable, or as foul-smelling, as a camel. Rubbed raw
against the curved leather seat of the saddle, his ass ached like nobody’s business,
while further up, his brain felt close to boiling in his skull under the
swathes of cotton fabric he’d wrapped around his head and face to help protect
from the eye-watering stench surrounding him.

And in all honesty, he couldn’t have been happier with his
predicament. The effort alone of staying atop his lolloping mount took enough
concentration to keep his mind off more disturbing issues, and the occasional
temperamental antics of the creatures helped ease the underlying tension
between him and Sam, leaving them at times doubled over with laughter as they
made their lurching progress through a golden sea of sand dunes.

When eventually their guides led them over a stretch of
harder, flatter ground and into the small desert camp that was to be their home
for the night, he felt worn enough to view the tiny oasis and cluster of
Bedouin tents, already populated with industrious staff, as the most luxurious
accommodation in the world.

He noted that Sam had weathered the journey no better than
himself, groaning as she all but fell from her saddle. Stumbling around like a
newborn foal trying to get some life back into her stiff legs, she had the
guides grinning with amusement, but Adam found he couldn’t join in with the
general sense of humor. Not when he felt a deep pang of guilt to know the
physical challenges of the day had to have been much harder for her to cope
with after the treatment he’d subjected her to last night. Despite Sam’s
assurances, he still couldn’t excuse his behavior in having manhandled her so
roughly.

At some point, he knew they were going to have to tackle
this thing head-on—have to stop pretending it wasn’t standing between them like
a hairy, nine-hundred-pound gorilla. So far, he’d failed to get any sort of
handle on his feelings, and he was given no time to ponder the implications
just then as they were ushered directly into the shade of the handful of trees
grouped around the small watering hole. There, a couple of folding chairs and a
table had been set up to receive them, and they both gratefully began
discarding various layers of protective wear, allowing sweaty skin and hair to
cool in the air as they moistened their dry throats with the ubiquitous
welcoming glasses of mint tea.

With the sun already dipping low in the cloudless sky and
casting lengthening shadows, the delicious smells of their evening meal wafted
from where it was being prepared over an open fire pit a short distance away
beside one of the small service tents.

Informed that dinner would be served just after sunset, Adam
and Sam were directed to the largest tent in the camp in order to wash and
change for their comfort. Ducking into the interior, he heard Sam gasp beside
him as their eyes adjusted to the dimness and revealed a boudoir straight out
of an Arabian Nights fantasy.

“It’s amazing,” Sam announced with delight, and as Adam
looked around, he had to agree. A selection of colorful kilim rugs covered the
hard-packed ground in overlapping layers, and decorated the canvas walls.
Folding wooden stools sat dotted around a central seating area, each topped
with a plump, tooled-leather cushion. A raised double bed sat off to one side,
mounded with silk pillows and throws and swathed in acres of mosquito netting
cascading down from the roof of the tent like a waterfall. At the foot of the
bed, the overnight bags they’d packed sat already waiting for them.

On the opposite side of the tent, a bathing area had been
created behind a curtain of yet more sheer netting, the ground there covered
with a wooden platform, cleverly slatted to allow for drainage straight into
the baked earth below. On a carved chest, a wide pewter bowl sat between two
large ewers that contained water warmed by the fire outside.

It was perfect, Adam acknowledged. Just the sort of
memorable, magical setting in which he’d envisaged making Sam the proposal of a
lifetime. But, of course, that had been—

“Oh, heaven!” Sam’s exclamation snapped him out of his
thoughts as she investigated a woven basket holding sea sponges and rose oil
soaps. Hardly waiting for the tent flap to be lowered for privacy, she began
pulling at her clothing. “Let’s get clean!”

But in typical male fashion, his mind instantly preferred to
get dirty—flashing an image of Sam standing naked, wet and slippery within easy
reach. His throat constricted. How could he take that and not touch her? How
could he ever touch her again after last night?

“You go ahead first while I try to get these damned boots
off.” As excuses went it was beyond pathetic, he knew. He had, after all, been
pretty adept at undoing his shoelaces on a daily basis since he was a small
boy. It was hardly fucking rocket science.

He could tell from Sam’s expression of hurt surprise that
she also saw the excuse for what it was—a badly disguised ploy to put some
distance between them. At least she refrained from calling him on it as he
retreated to the seating area and dropped down onto a stool with a heavy thud.

He sat there and set his fingers to work, wishing the
tangled mess of his emotions could be as easily unpicked as the knots in his
bootlaces. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Sam—stripping, filling
the pewter bowl with water, bathing—looking lovely as a dream through the sheer
net barrier that divided them. After the tumble of uncertainty she’d woken in
him yesterday, he wondered if he’d ever be able to see her clearly again.

“Adam,” she called to him after a while. “Would you come and
help me, please?”

Procrastinating with the intent of staying well out of her
way, he’d only managed to remove his boots and socks and undo half the buttons
on his shirt. “What do you need?” he asked warily.

“I need you,” Sam ducked her head around the side of the net
curtain and flashed him a smile, “to come and give my back a wash. Between my
shoulder blades feels all gritty and I can’t quite reach.”

While there was nothing remotely sexy in her smile, or
suggestive in the words, Adam knew he was being played. But refusing such a
simple-sounding request would be as good as admitting he was scared. And that
was something he never did. He was, after all, a powerful, well-respected
figure—CEO of his own multi-national company, responsible for a revenue of
billions and a staff of thousands. One small woman shouldn’t be a problem for
him. Gritting his teeth, he stood and went to her, determined to keep his eyes
at head level, determined to scrub the sand from her upper back and walk away.

As he passed through the sheer curtain, he found Sam turned
toward the tent wall, one shapely leg raised onto the chest as she leant over
and dipped her sponge into the pewter bowl before using it to rinse soap suds
from her foot. He did his level best to ignore the curves of her ass,
accentuated by such a position, focusing instead on the hair she’d caught up in
a messy bunch, from which the odd damp tendril hung down to curl about her long
neck.

She turned her head toward him and straightened, lowering
her foot back to the floor. “Thanks.” She smiled, reaching over her shoulder to
hand him the soap before facing away again. Tipping her head forward, she lifted
the sponge to the back of her neck and squeezed so that water cascaded down her
back.

As Adam slid the little bar of soap over her back, he
registered that of course her skin wasn’t the least bit gritty. It was soft and
smooth and satiny as ever. Sam groaned at his touch, the sound so full of
pleasure that it shot straight to his groin.

“Oh god, that’s so good,” she said, dropping her head even
farther forward to expose her neck. “Can you rub a bit harder? My muscles feel
in knots.”

He knew she was leading him on, knew he should stop, but for
the life of him he couldn’t. She felt too good under his hands, too right.
Letting the soap drop, he settled both palms over her shoulders and dug his
thumbs into the flesh of her nape, kneading at the muscle beneath.

Sam groaned again and swayed back into his touch, the
movement causing the rounded cheeks of her ass to brush ever so lightly against
the front of his combat trousers, which were growing tighter by the second.
Adam clenched his teeth harder, trying to ignore the sensation and the
temptation to look down to admire those pert little cheeks rubbing against him.
He closed his eyes and drew a deep, calming breath in through his nose.

Mistake.

“You smell like a summer garden,” he murmured, bending
forward to inhale the delicious scent of rose and Sam rising from the damp skin
of her shoulder.

In an instant she’d turned, winding her arms around his
neck. “And do I taste like one?”

She kissed him before he had a chance to pull back, slipping
her tongue into his mouth to flirt with his. Her naked body pressed up against
him, causing damp warmth to seep through his clothes and sink into his own
gritty-feeling flesh. Her nipples felt hard against his chest. Adam heard a
noise catch in his throat, soft and pleasured, but he didn’t dare move to
deepen the kiss or take hold of her. He wanted her so much in that moment, the
need to possess her was so strong it was almost painful. But after last night,
everything had changed. He had no idea how things would be between them now,
wasn’t even sure how to proceed. If he didn’t know himself better, he’d say his
uncertainty was down to fear. Ludicrous.

And he wasn’t the only one confused. Sam’s surprise at his
lack of action was obvious as she pulled back, and he rushed to answer her
question to avert the new one he could see forming in her eyes. “Mmm, you do.
Minty and fresh and sweet.”

Sam’s gaze narrowed a little as she considered him, and he
knew she wasn’t fooled for a moment. “Well, I’m sorry to say you’re more like a
compost heap, yourself,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him instead of issuing
the challenge he’d expected. “It’s definitely your turn to wash.” With that she
pushed the sponge at him, reached for a towel and left him alone in the bathing
area.

Adam knew there was no point feeling offended when he knew
she was right. Over and above the ripening smell of his own dried sweat, the
reek of that damned camel still clung to his clothes.

Stripping, he aimed to have the quickest wash of his life
and be fully clothed again before the romantic surroundings and the intimate
situation could get the better of either of them. Picking up one of the ewers,
he dumped a fair portion of the contents right over his head and reached for a
bar of soap, scrubbing fast and hard at the most vital bits. He’d made it to
the final rinse in double-quick time when the feel of Sam’s warm, small hand
coming to rest on his lower back made him jump. He hadn’t heard her approach.

“You forgot a spot here.” Her voice, no longer attempting to
hide the husky, seductive tone, floated over his naked flesh like a caress.
“Let me help you.”

“Sam,” Adam warned, holding himself stiff as a statue and
trying to keep the desperation out of his tone. “I don’t think this is a good
idea.”

“I know you don’t,” she said simply, beginning to trail her
fingers down his spine. “But I don’t understand why not.”

“Yes you do.” He clenched his fists into white-knuckled
balls and willed his body not to respond to her touch. “Because of last night.”

“Hmm, last night.” A slender, bare arm reached forward past
his hip to retrieve the sponge he’d left floating in the bowl of water. “Shall
I tell you exactly what I thought of last night, Adam?”

He was unable to trust his voice this time as the sponge ran
across his lower back, sending maddening rivulets of water trickling over his
buttocks and thighs. Taking his silence for consent, Sam told him how amazing
the experience had been, how amazing he had been. How, riding that rush of
power, she’d been nearly drunk on the heated taste of his frustration, his
desperation, and how his raw passion and need for her in the end had left her
giddy. She told him all that and more, keeping her voice and hands soft,
touching against his raw nerves, teasing his flesh, testing his resolve to
leave her alone until he could make sense of what had happened and how it
affected things between them.

“But I won’t lie and say that I don’t have any regrets, when
I do.”

Adam braced himself, wishing above all else that he didn’t
have to listen to the coming accusations, but ready to accept full
responsibility for his part in last night’s events. When Sam walked around to
stand in front of him, he nearly groaned aloud to see she was still naked.
Unable to resist, his gaze brushed over her nipples, pink and pert, and his
half-erect cock twitched.

Gathering both his wrists up in her hands, Sam stroked her
thumbs over the fading scratch lines running around them. “I regret having been
the cause of these.” Looking up in time to catch his frown as he prepared to
tell her again that his injuries were of his own doing, she continued before he
had a chance to speak. “And I really, really regret not having been able to do
this.”

Dropping to crouch in front of him, she released his wrists
and grabbed his cock firmly by the root, closing her mouth right around the
crown.

“Shit.” Even as he felt himself instantaneously swell
between her lips as all the blood in his body made a euphoric dash to his
groin, Adam stepped back and reached down to drag her off him. But although he
managed to release himself from the mind-blowing heat of her mouth, Sam kept
her fist wrapped around him as she looked up into his eyes.

“Do you remember me asking how deep you thought I’d be able
to take you?”

“Sam, don’t,” he groaned, remembering all right. Her teasing
had nearly killed him. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the memories and
the tempting sight of her supplicant before him.