Repressed (Deadly Secrets) (13 page)

Great. She was worried about Jeff Kellogg? That was all Ethan needed to hear. He gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“She’s been pulling crap like this my whole life. If I have something and she doesn’t, she makes a point of worming her way in. She still can’t get past the fact Jeff and I went out.”

“You dated the guy?” The words were out before Ethan could stop them.

“Not really. I mean, he took me to my senior prom. We went out a few times after that, but it wasn’t serious or anything. Margaret wasn’t even interested in him until she found out. I don’t even know why the hell he married her.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched, and he forced himself to refocus on the road.

“And she knows I showed up with you,” Samantha went on. “That’s why she was out there coming on to you.”

Large white flakes flitted in front of the vehicle’s headlights, the snowfall thickening, cutting down the visibility. His pride took another direct hit. “Nice to know it had nothing to do with me.”

Samantha glanced his way, the first time since they’d climbed into the car. “I didn’t mean it that way. She thinks you’re hot. She mentioned it way before we started . . . ” She looked back ahead. “Well, you know.”

The lilt to her words caused Ethan to look at her. She smoothed the hair back from her face in that adorable anxious move that did weird things to his blood. “Since we started what?”

Samantha frowned. “You know.”

“Dating?”

“I was going to say hanging out.”

That little bit of hope he’d felt crashed and burned. Ethan frowned and refocused on the road.

“Look. I’m really not in the mood for a noisy restaurant anymore. Can we just head back to my house?”

“Sure.” Ethan tried to hide his disappointment. Maybe it was for the best. It was a stupid idea to get involved with anyone from Hidden Falls.

She was silent during the rest of the drive, her gaze focused on the snow falling around them. When he pulled into her driveway and stopped the car, she climbed out before he could walk around and get her door.

He held her at the elbow as they crossed the snowy yard so she didn’t slip in the strappy heels. Once they were on the covered porch, he let go of her and checked his watch. It was a little after ten. If he left now, he could be home and parked in front of ESPN in as little as ninety minutes.

Samantha turned the key and pushed the heavy door open with her hip. Grimly’s nails clicked along the hardwood floor as he barked and rushed toward her, his tail wagging wildly. Samantha bent to rub his ears.

“So I’m gonna head on out,” Ethan said.

“What?” Samantha turned quickly. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

“No.” Grasping the sleeve of his coat, she tugged him into the house and closed the door at his back. “I don’t want you to leave, Ethan. I’m just not in the mood for a lot of people.”

She pulled the scarf from around her neck and tossed it on the bench by the front door. Her coat followed. Peeling his jacket from his shoulders, she threw it on top of hers before heading down the hall toward the kitchen. Grimly followed with a bounce in his step.

Ethan stared after her, seriously confused. The woman was sending him all kinds of mixed messages. Or maybe he was just reading them wrong. He rubbed his forehead.

“Aren’t you coming?” she called.

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. Like he was leaving now. Just the sound of that sexy schoolteacher voice made him lose all common sense.

She stood at the kitchen counter pouring a shot of bourbon as he entered the room. Lifting the glass to her lips, she threw back the shot, licked her lips, and eyed him over the glass. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” God, she was gorgeous, and he bet she didn’t even know it. Light from the lamp across the room cast shadows on her smooth skin, accentuating her movements. He loved the way she moved. Jerky sometimes. Smooth at others. Unsure when she was around him, which he really liked. He could watch her for hours.

“Like I’m an alcoholic. I’m not. I rarely drink. But that woman . . . ” She lowered the glass and filled another shot. “I swear, she knows just how to push my buttons. Do you want one?”

Why the hell not? It’d been a pretty shitty night so far. He stepped into the kitchen. “Sure.”

She grabbed another glass from the cupboard, poured a shot, and handed it to him. Lifting her glass, she said, “Cheers.”

The golden liquid warmed his throat as it went down, a hard punch to the gut where it settled. Heat slowly spread through his limbs, warming his muscles one by one.

“I should have warned you about Dot Appleton,” Samantha said. “I saw she had you cornered.”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a big boy. I think I can handle one nosy bookseller.”

“She’s the town gossip. I’m sure you got an earful.”

More than. “Word spreads fast around here.”

Sam shook her hair back and ran her fingers through the curly locks, looking more relaxed with each passing second. The movement accentuated the swell of her breasts, the arch in her back. Either the alcohol was working or her temper was settling. At the moment, he didn’t really care which. He was just glad they were alone and that she seemed to want him around.

“Do you remember this Sandra Hollings?” he asked.

“Not really. I was just a kid when she lived here. I know she taught high school, and I remember hearing rumors about her, but I was, like, ten. I didn’t pay attention to anything important back then.”

He nodded. The name was vaguely familiar to Ethan, but he couldn’t place a face with it. So many of his memories from Hidden Falls were a blur, that one night overshadowing everything before it.

“I think I have a yearbook photo of her somewhere.” Pushing away from the counter, Samantha wandered back down the hallway.

Ethan followed her into what he could only imagine was a home office. At the moment it looked like a war zone. Boxes were stacked four high at every angle. A few sat open, half-packed. The large cherry desk near the window was littered with files and papers and the oldest computer Ethan had ever seen. To its left, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf cradled old, dusty books and various knickknacks.

Samantha’s heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she stepped over a box in the middle of the room and reached for another near the window. Muscles flexed in her trim arms as she lifted it from the stack and set it on a pile of papers scattered across the desk.

“What happened in here?”

“My mother happened in here,” she said, rummaging through the contents. “She saved everything. I’m trying to figure out what can be sold and what should just be burned for good measure.”

Dark, curly tendrils fell across her cheek, her posture accentuating her luscious cleavage in the strapless outfit. The soothing scents of lavender and vanilla wafted on the air, sending heat straight to his belly.

Tonight is not about sex. She’s keyed up. She probably just wants to talk and “hang out.” Don’t get any ideas.

Ethan cleared his throat. “What are you doing with a yearbook from eighteen years ago?”

“Um . . . my mother dabbled in photography.”

She didn’t elaborate, but the question was lost when she pulled out a black leather book from the box. “Here it is. I knew it was in here.”

She opened the book and flipped pages. Skirting the desk, she stepped over a half-packed box in the center of the room. “I remember she was really young. Right out of college.”

Ethan stepped toward her, but his shoe hooked the edge of a wooden chair he hadn’t seen sticking out from behind a box, knocking him off balance.

“Ethan!” Samantha reached for him. He grappled for something to stop his downward momentum, but his hand knocked into another stack of boxes. He hit the hardwood floor with a crack. Just behind Samantha, he saw the stack tip and sway. He lifted his arms just as they crashed to the floor.

“Oh my God, Ethan.” Samantha frantically swiped boxes away and climbed over him. “Are you okay?”

He blinked twice and looked up into her worried dark eyes. Silky curls hung around her face and tickled his cheeks, bringing his skin to life, making him acutely aware of her thighs brushing the outsides of his, of her heat and that sweet, sweet scent he remembered from when she’d been close like this in the supply closet of her classroom. “I’m . . . not sure.”

“I am so sorry.” She pushed the last box away with her hand and kicked one more at her feet. Thankfully, most seemed empty, or at least only partially filled with paper. Judging from the sharp ache in the back of his head, though, Ethan figured his skull was another matter. “How do we always end up on the floor?”

He didn’t know, but right now he wasn’t complaining. God, she smelled good. And this close, all he could think about was how soft her lips looked. How warm her mouth had been when he’d kissed her. The throb in his head faded. Maybe it was the bourbon, dulling the edges, or maybe it was just her, calling to him like she’d done since the first moment he’d met her.

“I don’t know.” His hands slipped to her thighs, braced on both sides of his hips, and he ran his fingers up the silky soft fabric of her jumpsuit. “But being on the floor does have its advantages.”

Her breath caught. It was a very subtle movement, but he heard it. And just knowing she was as aware of him as he was of her awakened places inside he knew only she could bring to life.

“Ethan,” she breathed.

“Yeah?” He slid his hands up to her hips. Felt the pulse beneath her skin speed up. Inched his fingers higher.

Her breath quickened. Several heartbeats passed before she said, “Where does it hurt?”

His fingers stilled their slow movements, and he looked from her lips to her eyes. Her mesmerizing, smoldering eyes. Blood surged straight into his groin. “My head.”

She rested her weight on one hand and tipped his head to the side with the other. Leaning close, she pressed a kiss to the base of his skull where he’d smacked it against the hardwood. “There?”

His throat grew thick. “Um. Yeah.”

She eased back and rested her hand on the ground again. But this time a mischievous twinkle sparked in her eyes as she looked down. “Where else?”

Holy hell. Was she going to kiss every one of his injuries? This could get interesting. “My forehead.”

She leaned forward and brushed her lips above his left eyebrow. “Anywhere else?”

“I think a box might have hit me on the cheek.”

Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip, making the blood in his groin absolutely throb. With slow motions, she kissed his cheek.

“No.” He might as well milk it for all it was worth. “The other one.”

Her grin widened, and she kissed the other side. “Is that it?”

“I think here too.” He tapped one finger against his mouth.

A sexy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. “We definitely don’t want you to be hurt there, now do we?”

He smiled, but when she pressed her mouth to his, all humor fled. Heat infused him the instant they touched. Heat and need and a desire he knew he should keep in check. But when her mouth opened over his, and her sweet little tongue swept between his lips, all he could think about was tasting her again, taking everything she was offering and losing himself in her for as long as she’d let him.

He slid his hands up to brush her hair back from her face, stroking into her mouth with slow, gentle sweeps. And when she lowered her weight onto his, any pretense he had of holding back slipped right out of his grasp. He moved one hand to the back of her head, trailed the other to her waist, and pulled her tighter as he kissed her deeper.

She drew her mouth from his way before he was ready to let her go and pressed soft wet kisses to his cheek, his jaw, working her way over to his ear. His eyes slid closed, and he groaned, flexing his hips so she could rub against him, loving her mouth on his skin, wherever she could reach. “Samantha . . . ”

“Mm . . . ?” She nipped at his earlobe then sucked it between her succulent lips.

Oh God . . .
If she kept that up he was gonna come, right here in his pants.

“I, um . . . think maybe we should slow down.”

She dragged her tongue over the soft skin behind his ear. “Getting cold feet, Dr. McClane?”

He chuckled, loving the feel of her against him, loving her mouth and that wicked rocking she was doing with her hips. “Not at all. But you’ve been drinking. And the first time I take you, I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

“The first time?” She pushed up on her hand and looked down, cheeks flushed with arousal, lips plump from his kisses. Absolutely delicious. “Does that mean you’ve been planning for this?”

“Hoping is more like it.”

“Me too,” she said softly.

Excitement surged inside him. But he held back. Barely. “When it happens, Samantha, I want you all in. No inhibitions.”

She leaned back, her knees locked tight against his hips, the heat between her thighs pressed right over his erection. Flashing a wicked grin, she reached for his belt buckle. “I have none now. I’m not wasted, Ethan. I want you.”

It was all he could do not to grab her and take her, right there on the floor. Instead, he searched her eyes for any indication she was inebriated. He didn’t see it. He saw heat and need and lust. The same lust boiling in his veins, overriding every other thought but her.

She slipped his belt buckle free, leaned forward, and whispered, “I want to feel you inside me now, Ethan. Right now. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

And when she kissed him, the last of his resistance finally disappeared.

CHAPTER NINE

“Hold on to me, Samantha.”

Ethan’s rough voice swept over Sam, sending shivers of anticipation straight down her spine. His arms closed around her waist, and he pushed to his feet, lifting her off the floor. Wrapping herself around him, she found his mouth again and kissed him with every bit of excitement pulsing through her veins.

It wasn’t the alcohol. This overwhelming need had been building since the day they’d been locked together in her supply closet. A tiny voice in the back of her head warned her to be careful, but she ignored it. She didn’t want to play things slow and cautious right now. She just wanted to feel as much as she could.

He lifted her over the box at their feet, his tongue sweeping into her mouth in a fast, hard, demanding kiss that kicked the fire deep in her core from smoldering to full-on flaming. When he reached the hallway, he drew back long enough to ask, “Which way?”

Her head was light. Her skin on fire. The couch was closer, but she wanted him in her bed. Threading her fingers up into his hair, she kissed his cheek. “Up . . . stairs.”

He turned toward the stairs, claiming her mouth once more, and she groaned as he deepened the kiss, his tongue scraping her teeth, tasting and exploring every part of her mouth. Tightening her fingers in his hair, she kissed him again and again, the way he was kissing her. Moved to the corner of his lips. His jaw. Kissed her way to his throat, memorizing the lines and angles of his body while she tasted the sweetness of his flesh.

“Samantha . . . ” Her name came out on a groan. Her feet hit the steps. The stairwell wall brushed her back while pictures swayed above. But she didn’t care, doubted she’d even notice if they crashed down around her. Nipping her way across his throat, she finally reached his ear and drew the soft lobe between her teeth.

It wasn’t enough. She wanted skin. Needed to feel every part of him. Her hands streaked down to his waist as he found her mouth again, kissing her until she was dizzy. She pulled at his shirt, jerking it free of his slacks, and made quick work of the buttons as their tongues tangled in a frantic kiss. Groaning into his mouth, she tugged the sleeves down his muscular arms and tossed the shirt away, then found the hem of the white T-shirt he wore under his dress shirt and pulled away from his mouth long enough to wrench it up over his head.

She had a quick flash of chiseled abs and toned pecs, but before she could take a closer look, his mouth was on hers again. Desire roared through her all over again, and her fingers moved over his skin, exploring every dip and angle and play of bone. But it still wasn’t enough. She kissed him deeper, harder. He groaned, and his hands streaked over her shoulders, down her back, and around her sides, sending those tingles into overdrive, making her want even more. Heat. Skin. Everything.
Now.

Ethan broke their kiss. “Tell me how to get this damn thing off of you.”

“It’s Lycra. Just peel.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before his fingers darted into the tight fabric at her breasts. With one swift movement, the stretchy material slid down her body and hit the floor.

She gasped as cool air washed over her bare skin. But that gasp turned to a moan when she saw the heat in his eyes as his gaze swept over her and the small black thong she’d worn under the jumpsuit.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He dropped to his knees on the stairs and pressed his mouth against her belly. His fingers slipped under the edge of her thong, tugging it down.

Oh yes . . .

She held on to his shoulders, dug her fingers into firm muscles as he wrapped one arm around her waist. His broad hand swept over her hips and down to graze her inner thigh. His lips paved a path of fiery kisses down her abdomen. Sensations overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the wall. Then his tongue was there, flicking over the sensitive nub between her legs, making her moan in pure pleasure.

The room rocked and swayed. She lifted one hand to the back of his head, trailing her fingers through his silky hair as she pressed against his mouth. That tempting tongue circled and swirled. His fingers brushed her stomach, then inched up to pinch and squeeze her nipple.

“Oh, Ethan . . . ”

Shards of electricity shot from her breasts to her center. His tongue moved faster. She rocked her hips to the sweet, hypnotic rhythm of his mouth. Her heart beat fast and heavy. Blood pulsed in her veins. Her breaths grew heavy and labored with every skillful stroke of his tongue, with every tantalizing touch of his fingers, but all she could think was
more
. And then it came out of nowhere. A release so strong, it crashed into her like a sneaker wave, dragging her down and under when she least expected it.

Every muscle in her body clenched, and she cried out as her knees buckled. His arm tightened around her waist, holding her up so she didn’t hit the floor while he drew out every last bit of pleasure from her body.

Tingles still ricocheted through her limbs as Ethan’s lips skimmed her stomach, moving higher until they closed over one breast. His tongue darted over and around her taut nipple, bringing desire raging right back to the forefront.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he said.

His husky voice made her stomach bunch with need all over again. One orgasm was not enough. Not even close to enough. “Hurry.”

He lifted her off the floor and quickly moved up the rest of the steps, then turned down the hall. “Where?”

“Last door. End of the hall.” Her hands fisted in his hair, tugged hard until his mouth opened, then she kissed him crazy all over again, tasting her desire and his all mixed together as one.

Boxes were stacked randomly through the hall. He continued to slide his tongue over hers while he maneuvered her around them. She rocked her hips into his erection, wanting, needing, craving every inch of him. He stumbled, and her back brushed cardboard. She lowered her hand, searching for the button on his slacks.

Her legs slipped free of his grasp. Her high heels hit the hardwood floor with a
thunk
. Without missing a beat, she dropped to her knees, yanked his pants open, and shoved his slacks and boxer briefs straight to the floor.

“Samantha . . .”

She wanted to give him exactly what he’d given her. But before she could close her hand around his steely length, he grasped her by the shoulders, pulled her up, and kissed her again.

“No,” he mouthed against her when she tried to pull away. “I want to be inside you the first time.”

Oh, she wanted that too. Right here, right now.

She opened to his kiss and ran her hands down his spine to clasp his firm, tight ass. Her tongue flicked wildly against his. Shifting one hand around to his front, she closed her fingers over his erection and squeezed.

“Shit.” He gasped. “Not gonna make it to a bed.”

He pulled her to the floor and kicked free of his shoes and slacks. Sam immediately rolled on top of him, pressing her body against all his strong, hard heat, then leaned down and kissed him again.

“Wait.” His hand streaked out to the side. “Pants. Wallet.”

She sat up and reached back for his pants. “Don’t you dare go anywhere.”

“Like I could,” he breathed.

Dim light spilled from the end of the hall, washing over his firm body as she straddled his thighs and pulled the wallet from his slacks. God, he was handsome—even more so with his eyes full of longing, desire making his face flushed, his hair all tousled from her frantic hands. Warmth flowed through her whole body at the knowledge she was what he craved, what he needed.

Smiling, she opened his wallet and shook. Two condoms and a fifty-dollar bill dropped onto his chest. She picked up the fifty and fingered the bill. “You’re not going to need this.” She tossed the money, then reached for the condoms. “Might need more of these.”

His deep laughter washed over her as she ripped open the foil packet, but it turned to a gasped breath when she rolled the latex over his arousal.

“Samantha . . . ” Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her mouth back to his and kissed her deeply. She straddled his hips. His hands shifted to her thighs. A shiver rushed down her spine as the tip of his erection brushed her slick core.

Tiny bursts of electricity sparked through her at the first touch. Bracing her hands against his chest, she lifted and lowered, just a fraction of an inch, working him over slowly, enjoying every slip and glide and tug and pull. Dropping her head back, she closed her eyes and groaned. “Oh my God, Ethan . . . ”

His fingers dug into her hips. “You’re killing me here, you know.”

She blinked several times, smiled, and looked down at him. He was so sexy holding back, letting her take the lead. Muscles strained in his neck and face as he looked down her body to where they were just barely joined. “Then do something about it.”

His gaze lifted back to hers, and his hand moved to the back of her head once more. And then he pulled her mouth down to his, and slid his wicked tongue into her mouth at the same time he thrust up into her body.

She gasped. Her heart rate quickened. He filled her in a way she hadn’t anticipated, not just physically, but with a warmth she couldn’t explain. Her breath grew shallow. He sat up, driving deeper inside her, and when he moved his hands to her hips and shifted her body into a rhythm with his own, all she could do was wrap her arms around his shoulders and hang on.

“God, you feel good.” He kissed her jaw, trailed his lips to her ear, drew the lobe into his mouth, and sucked.

He felt good too. But she couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t get her lips and tongue and mouth to work together. Sensations rocked her as he nibbled at her throat, as he continued to drive into her again and again until everything but him faded to the background.

She dropped her head back. Slid her hands into his hair. Clenched around him with every thrust. He shifted to the other side of her throat, nipped at a sensitive spot. Pain arced through her. Then he suckled, running his tongue over her skin until there was nothing but pleasure. And the combination—his thick, heavy thrusts along with the sweet tantalizing suction of his mouth—pushed her right over the edge. A hot, fast punch of ecstasy made her cry out, made every muscle in her body shake with her release.

He groaned against her neck, and in an instant she was on her back, cool hardwood pressing against her spine, hard, firm male at her front.

“One more time.” His mouth found hers again. He braced one hand on the floor near her head, used the other to push one knee back so he could drive deeper.

Sam groaned. Held on. Sweat slicked her skin. Mingled with his. The fire built again with every plunge, with every wild stroke of his soft tongue against hers.

“Come with me,” he mouthed against her.

She didn’t have a choice. His muscles flexed, and she closed around him, tighter. And when he let go, she went with him, feeling the pulse of him so deep inside, she was sure he had to be touching her heart.

They collapsed against the floor. His hot breath washed over her shoulder. Slowly, she became aware of his weight against her, pressing her into the hardwood, but it didn’t hurt. If anything, it felt good. Perfect. Right.

Her fingers streaked up into his hair, twirling the ends of the silky locks as the last threads of pleasure trickled through her.

God, she could get used to this. Ethan McClane didn’t just make love. He made a woman completely lose sense of time and place and purpose.

“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” he said against her shoulder.

Wrapping one leg around his so he couldn’t get away, she sighed. “Not at all. I like this.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can move just yet.”

A smile tugged at her lips. She loved that she’d wrecked him just as hard as he’d wrecked her.

Her fingertips slid over his shoulders as he relaxed into her. Sliding her foot down his calf, she held on to him, enjoying the moment. But her toe hit something rough, and she blinked several times, watching the aged ceiling dotted with water stains come into view. A giggle moved through her when she realized what she’d found.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re still wearing your dress socks.” She lifted her head and twisted to the side to see over his shoulder. “Very sexy, Dr. McClane.”

He trailed one hand down her side, sending shivers all across her skin. “And you’re still wearing those ice picks, Ms. Parker. Now that’s sexy.”

“I’m glad you approve. They made the outfit, don’t you think?”

He pushed up on one hand and looked down her naked body. “Oh yeah.”

Her skin warmed under his heated stare, and desire hummed in her veins all over again. She drew in a slow breath. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Dr. McClane, but I think I like it.”

His gaze lifted to her face, and one corner of his lips tipped up in a sexy smirk. “If memory serves, I think you liked it more than once.”

“I’m pretty sure I liked it three times, which, for me, is a first.”

His grin widened. “Is that unusual?” Pleasure arced in his green eyes. “It’s purely chauvinistic of me, but you just made my day. We’ll have to think about giving you four next time.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Does that mean you’re staying tonight?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

Want him to rock her world again? Absolutely. Want him to spend the entire night? That was something altogether different. Nerves rushed in, replacing all that sultry heat.

There was a reason she didn’t get involved in relationships. Ethan thought it was fear holding her back, but it wasn’t. It was self-preservation. If he stayed, and she had one of those horrendous nightmares, he’d see it. She risked opening herself up, baring her soul, and she didn’t want to do that. But she wasn’t ready for him to leave yet either.

Maybe she’d get lucky. Maybe sleeping in his arms would protect her from the dark.

Or maybe she could find a way to stay awake all night instead.

Decision warred inside her as she ran a finger along the crescent-shaped scar near his eyebrow. And though common sense urged her to be safe, desire—tonight at least—was stronger. “I want you to stay.”