Sam’s eyes drifted down. “Nana would never forgive me if I didn’t.” She lifted the lid. “Besides, I’m trying not to think about it. Or for that matter what else she had in there.”
Ignoring the alarmed look on Drew’s face, Sam flipped open the box and gasped. “Holy crap, Nana.”
The box was a smorgasbord of different types of condoms of every color imaginable, from a cheerful green, to neon pink. A few of the more brightly colored ones advertised the ability to glow in the dark. While others were Christmas themed, with red, white and blue, or one that purported to look like a reindeer with a red tip.
A few were labeled studded or tickling, while others promised to provide a warming sensation when activated by natural body moisture. There was a virtual buffet of flavored condoms, including tastes such as banana, strawberry, chocolate, orange, vanilla, coke and even a mint.
Drew reached in with two fingers and picked up one that was called a French Tickler. It looked like a bright, purple shower cap with little bubble things popping in all directions.
Sam grabbed it and tossed it back into the box. “No. Here, use the black. It’s the closest to normal.”
Drew took it and ripped it open. “For formal occasions, I suppose.”
“Here,” Sam said, setting the box aside and reaching for the condom. “Allow me.”
Sam reached down, gently taking him into her hands and sliding the condom on. If Drew had lost any excitement while looking through Nana’s condoms, he quickly recovered as Sam handled him.
“You keep touching me,” Drew said. “It’s my turn.”
Sam allowed Drew to pull her onto the bed. They lay side by side, their hands slowly exploring each other’s bodies as they continued to kiss. Sam gasped as Drew’s fingers found her nipple, playing, even giving her a playful pinch. He cupped her breast and caressed it as his mouth started to work its way down her neck. She reciprocated by nibbling on his chest and tracing the lines of his muscles with her fingers.
She moaned as Drew’s mouth found its way onto her breast, sending electric jolts of ecstasy through her. His tongue played on her nipple as he reached down between her legs and fondled her gently. The thrill of pleasure radiated through her, and she trembled with excitement.
Before too long, Sam couldn’t take anymore. She placed her hand on his shoulder and pushed him on his back. Quickly, she started to reposition. “I need you,” she whispered in his ear as she moved on top of him. “Now.”
Slowly, she moved down, allowing him to slip inside of her. His hands reached for her breasts as she crushed her mouth down on his. Gradually, she rose and fell on him as he started to move in concert with her.
Outside, the thunder boomed, shaking the house, but neither Sam nor Drew noticed as they continued to move, both against and with each other. She loved the sound of him moaning from her touch and desperately wanted to hear more.
She adored the fact Drew allowed her to completely control their first time together. Her rules, her choices and she could tell from the gleam in his eyes and his wicked grin every time she sighed or whimpered in delight how much he enjoyed her pleasure.
Sam had sex before tonight, but until this very moment, she’d never made love. Never been with someone who wanted to please her, where her happiness meant so much. In sync with each other, they both gave as much as they took. Waves of ecstasy rippled through her body as she slowly built to a climax. Drew moved faster, harder and the joy in his eyes was the last thing she saw before she closed hers and threw her head back as spasms of delight ripped through her.
As her orgasm slowly subsided, Drew slowed, but didn’t stop. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite catch her breath. She collapsed on him, as his hands gently caressed her. Her mouth found his and she could tell he hadn’t yet had his fill.
They switched positions and Drew was on top of her. He touched her face, kissed her tenderly, and stroked her hair. “I still want more,” Drew said, his voice full of need. “I need more. Please tell me you need more. Tell me you’re not ready to stop.”
Unable to speak at first, she nodded slowly. “Please,” she managed to say in a whisper. “Give me more.”
With his eyes on hers, he positioned himself to enter her again. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he found his way inside and slowly moved again. She was certain she would never reach that same peak. She’d never been able to go twice before, so why would tonight be different?
Drew patiently kept his pace steady, touching her in all the places she loved to be touched, tasting her skin and whispering in her ear about her beauty, she quickly realized she was wrong. He buried his face in her neck as the intensity built. Her legs curled around him as she felt herself climbed to a new, higher peak.
Drew lost any semblance of control and she lost all sense of reality. She had no idea where she ended and he began. Sam found herself someplace she’d never been before, where the world was only touch and sensation, and pleasure soared through her entire body. She closed her eyes for a moment, losing her sense of self in the indulgence of him, and moaned his name.
He made a noise from deep within, something primal that forced her to open her eyes. Her saying his name pushed him over the edge, as he buried himself deeper insider her than ever before. She was consumed, her body rocking from the intensity of her climax. She screamed as she reached up and grabbed his hair, and he exploded.
His eyes widened in shock as he emptied himself and she took as much delight in his pleasure as he had in hers.
Spent, he collapsed. She felt his weight for the first time as he continued to stroke and caress her. His lips found hers, her body tingled in aftershock.
Slowly, he moved beside her. She nestled in his arms, snuggled against his chest and smiled contently as he softly whispered her name.
Chapter 15
The Story of the Phoenix
The thunder finally abated, and the only sounds were the gentle fall of a light rain as the storm passed and Drew’s heartbeat. Sam had never felt as comfortable in her own skin as she did lying here next to Drew. And the fact she did scared her.
She believed in her heart Drew hadn’t lied when he told her earlier he was falling in love with her, but was he really? His entire life was in emotional turmoil. In the span of a few hours, he’d learned one sister had been murdered, reunited with the other and met his young nephew for the first time.
Drew decided without a second thought to uproot his entire life for that boy, which meant leaving the job of his dreams, and moving back to a town that held his worst nightmares. Earlier today, he’d spent a few hours in the holding cell of the local police department, one she worked for. And even though he’d won that battle, it had to have opened up old wounds.
Maybe he was holding on to her because he needed something to hold onto that was real. Maybe his heart was so broken, he was looking for anyone that might make it whole again. Maybe once he was able to feel balanced and back in control and his life made some sense again, he’d find he had no place for her in it?
Sam knew she should slow things down, and not commit her heart, but she wasn’t sure if that was possible. Not for her, not after tonight. But the thought of allowing herself to fully and completely fall in love with Drew was terrifying.
Looking up to Drew’s face, she realized he was watching her with something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place. Amusement? Contentment? More? Or maybe he just wanted to get out of here, like plenty of men did.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
She smiled and started to trace the pattern of his tattoo absently with her finger. It was a valid question considering every thought that was flying through her head, but she wasn’t about to ask them. Instead, she searched for something new, but her mind was blank.
“I’m just admiring your tattoo,” Sam said. “I like it. I’ve thought about getting a tattoo, but I’ve never been brave enough.”
Drew smiled. “You don’t strike me as the type who’d be afra
id of a little pain.”
She gave him a light smack on his chest. “It’s not that. Well, maybe a little. I hate needles. But when I’ve looked at tattoos, I can’t decide what it’d want. I mean, it’d be on my body the rest of my life. I’d have to really love it. It’s got to be something that really speaks to me, something I’d enjoy looking at on my body for the rest of my life, right?”
“Probably a good idea.”
Sam snuggled closer. “What about you?”
“I can honestly say, without a doubt in my mind,” Drew moved his face close to hers. “That I love your body.” He leaned in and kissed her quickly.
“Ha, ha,” she said. Not that she minded the compliment. It just added to the warm and gooey feeling she had inside right now. “No, I meant about your tattoo. How did you decide on it? Did you always think about getting a…” She used her finger to lightly trace the face of the bird that was on his chest again. “What kind of bird is that? Not an eagle or hawk. Maybe a really angry chicken?”
Drew looked down at his own chest, amused. “It looks like an angry chicken to you? Original or extra crispy?”
Sam snorted. “You’re going to get me hungry. What is it?”
Drew sighed. “It’s a phoenix.” His voice was quiet as he said it.
Sam re-examined the tattoo and tried to recall what she knew about the phoenix, but beyond knowing they weren’t real birds, she drew a blank.
“A phoenix is a mythological creature,” Drew said. “It bursts into flames to die and is reborn from its own ashes.”
Sam nodded as she continued to look at Drew’s tattoo. The face of the phoenix looked fierce, even savage. It was completely in black ink, but Sam was still able to see where the bird ended, towards the bottom of his upper arm and where the flames took over, an inferno that went to his wrist.
“Why the phoenix?” Sam said. “Was it just something you thought was cool growing up? Or did it have something to do with your childhood. You know, rising from the ashes and all that.”
Drew frowned for a moment, then reached forward and took Sam’s hand. “Here,” he said, guiding her fingers towards his chest. “Feel this here?” Her fingers touched a trio of tiny rough patches on his skin. “And here?” Gently, he steered her touch to the top of the shoulder. And again to three different spots on his upper arm, two places on his lower arm, his wrist.
“What are those?” Sam said, at first thinking perhaps scabs from chicken pox, but there were none on his left side. Lifting her eyes from his ink to his eyes, she realized before he responded that the answer would be much darker. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but rather off into the shadows of the room.
“Every now and then,” Drew said, his calm, controlled voice was like being in the eye of a storm, “when my dad was drunk enough and pissed enough to want to hurt us, but not so drunk that he didn’t realize my sisters were hiding, he’d tell me to call them. He figured they’d never come out if he called them and he wasn’t going to chance letting me get away, so he told me to call them. And when I wouldn’t, he’d light a cigarette and press it against my skin. He’d tell me he’d stop if I just called them.”
A wave of nausea hit Sam bad enough she physically cringed. What kind of hell was it to grow up in that kind of home?
“But they couldn’t come even if you called them,” she said.
Drew gave her a dismissive shrug. “He didn’t know, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that.”
Sam wrapped her arms around him. “No, of course not. You probably just gritted your teeth and took it.”
Drew actually let out a snort. “No, I really didn’t. I fought him, but my father’s a big guy. The first time he burnt me was actually on my ninth birthday. That was this one.” He tapped a spot, now covered by his tattoo, which was located just above his right nipple. “The last time he tried it, I was almost fifteen and I managed to kick him in the balls. But trust me, I screamed. I just refused to call my sisters.”
Sam started to sit up, outraged as the picture of a large man pinning a nine-year-old child to the floor and pressing the lit cigarette against his flesh while he screamed formed in her mind. “Didn’t anyone ever call the cops?”
“Sure,” Drew said, nonchalantly. “Twice. The house right behind ours was close. They called once. Cops came. Walked up to the door, never knocked or rang the doorbell. They knew my Dad, he was one of them, and the department was pretty damn corrupt at the time.
“About a month later, same thing happened. Same neighbors. Probably the same cops. Same fucking result, but this time, the guy who lived behind us got his ass kicked by my father in front of his wife and son, who I went to school with. The neighbor wasn’t a tiny guy. Next thing I knew, they up and moved.”
Drew looked down at his own body, reviewing the markings he’d had inked into him to cover the scars. “When I was in prison, well… You can’t really hide crap like this. I even thought about getting inked in prison, but to cover up all of the scars would take forever and everyone had already seen it. Then I got out, and I was on my own. I had finished high school in prison, joined the Marines, but I had a couple of weeks before training started. I was mostly just hanging out, waiting. Saw some place that did tattoos and went in. I didn’t think I’d do it, but I figured I’d check it out. That’s where I met Dan. He owned the place and he took it really seriously. It was an art to him.
“At first,” Drew said, looking at Sam for the first time since they’d started this discussion. “When I started to ask about getting a tattoo that would go up my arm to my chest, Dan refused to do it.”
“Why?” Sam asked. “Dan didn’t like people with big tattoos on them?”
“Are you kidding?” Drew laughed and shook his head. Sam realized he didn’t sound as haunted as he had when he’d first talked to her about his past. “Dan was covered in them. Each arm, chest, back. Legs. He was in a tank top and shorts so I was able to see plenty of what he had.”
“He didn’t think you were tough enough?”
Drew scowled, but there was a playful gleam in his eyes.
“No,” Drew continued. “Had nothing to do with that. Dan asked me if I had ever gotten any tattoos, which I hadn’t. I think he could tell from my questions I was a newbie. You know, people often look at you like there’s something wrong with you if you’ve got ink. So artists tell you start small, but someplace that won’t show in business attire or even casual wear unless you wanted it to.
“I was asking to start with this big ass tattoo. Dan told me I needed to be sure. I wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I started to walk out, but he called me back. Asked me why I wanted one that big. I hadn’t even picked out a design, but he could tell it wasn’t just a whim.”
Drew grinned, recalling the memory. “Dan was covered in ink, bald with a long beard, yet there was something about him I trusted. I think it was the pictures he had up of his kids and his nieces. So I took off my jacket and showed him. I didn’t go into detail, but the moment he saw the scars… I’m guessing he’d seen stuff like that before.”
Drew shrugged. “Next thing I know, we’re looking at patterns. I just wanted black.” He held up his arm, stared at the design. “I guess it just matched my mood about the reason for it. I took a while looking through designs, but couldn’t find anything. He asked how long I had and he said we’d have to get started soon if it was going to heal before I went to boot camp, but he made me promise not to pick one unless it felt right.
“He told me to go home and come in the next day. I didn’t really have a home, but there was a cheap motel down the road I was staying in for the next two weeks. I went back the next morning and Dan told me he put in a little research. He had over two dozen designs for me to look at, but I never got to most of them. He pulled out one he had custom designed for me. Said he thought it suited me.”
Tracing the pattern on his chest with her fingers, Sam had to agree with Dan’s assessment. She’d seen some people who had tattoo where
it just looked like a collage of various images that didn’t make. There were ones that held importance, like the name of a loved one lost, their memory forever etched on their bodies. Somehow, Drew’s seemed to be a part of him.
“So, Dan really came up with the idea of the phoenix,” Drew continued. “Told me all about it. What it meant. And when I heard it was a mythical bird that rose from its own ashes, well… I was sold. It just looked right. Like an abstract piece of art that you have no idea what it’s supposed to be, but it means something to you.
“Took him three and a half days. He really spent a lot of time with me since I was new with it. He was really patient, and he talked to me while he worked. Told me about his kids, his nieces, his family, never asked about mine. It was weird. The more he covered my scars with that phoenix, the more I became determined to be it. To rise from what I came from. It was like putting on a mask almost. So yeah, I guess you could say it did speak to me.”
Listening to Drew explain, Sam started to realize his ink wasn’t just sexy and alluring, although it certainly was, it was also quite beautiful. Drew was beautiful. He was a man who grew up with such violence, yet he still managed to become a man who could love and protect. She’d never forget that moment where he’d brought Cole in to see his mother’s body and showed the boy it was alright to cry.
Moving her gaze from his tattoo to his eyes, Sam came to another realization. She was so far beyond the falling in love part of the relationship. She had already fallen and now just had to figure out what to do with it.
“You still there?”
Sam smiled. “Yes. I’m just… I keep thinking about what you and your sisters went through. What poor Cole went through, and I wish there was something I could do, but I can’t change the past. Your childhood years should be about laughter and smiles and love, not the kind of ugly violence you came from.”
Gently, Drew tenderly touch her face. “I know, but you’re right, we can’t change the past. We’ve got to move forward. Nothing I do is ever going to bring back my sister, but what I can do is make sure her son doesn’t live in fear anymore. She wanted me back in her life. If I had just checked that damn email account a few days earlier, I would have been here. The General could have found someone else for that last job and he never would have stood in the way of my returning home. Hell, he would probably have kicked my ass if I didn’t come.”
Torn Away (The Torn Series Book 1) Page 25
