by Tawny Weber
Not that Bryanna had anything to hide, he acknowledged as he crossed the room. Nope. Everything about her was right there, out in the open. Honest, direct and so damned beautiful.
“I missed you,” he murmured when he wrapped his hands around her waist. Realizing he still held the beer, he gave her a sheepish grin as he leaned to the side to set it down. “Really missed you.”
Her smile flickered for a second, something flashing in her eyes that made Sam want to frown. But it was gone too fast for him to decipher. Then her body pressed against his as she hugged him close and he forgot all about it.
Forgot all about everything except tasting her.
Lifting one hand, Sam tucked his finger under her chin, raising her face to his. Eyes locked on hers, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. She was so soft. So sweet.
He rubbed her lips once. Twice.
Her mouth welcomed him. He could feel her smile, as smooth as the fingers she skimmed over the back of his neck. He knew it was that smile she got sometimes when she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. The one that did weird things to his belly.
Since he didn’t know what those things were, he opted to focus on the kiss instead.
Only this time, because she was his answer to every doubt he’d ever had, the third time he went for broke.
Chapter 3
He looked so good.
He felt even better.
Bryanna wrapped herself around Sam, reveling in the feel of his arms holding her close, the taste of his mouth on hers. He was here. Really here.
A part of her wanted to cry with relief because she’d missed him so much. But she easily buried that part. Not only because she learned by the age of three not to show any emotion over someone she loved leaving or returning from duty. But because it was so easy to lose herself in the feel of Sam.
His mouth was soft, an erotic contrast to the sandpaper texture of the hint of whiskers scraping her chin. She knew he’d likely shaved when he’d gotten off duty. But Sam would have to shave twice a day to keep his face smooth. She skimmed her palms over his cheeks, reveling in how manly he was. So sexy, so manly.
So damned perfect.
Her lips raced over his, her tongue dancing along his. Sweeping and swirling before she sucked his into her mouth.
He gave a low growl, the sound sending tiny shudders of excitement through her body.
She gave a soft hum of appreciation.
He returned the favor, nipping gently at the tip of her tongue as he did.
Her thighs trembled, wet need pooling between them.
Oh yeah. She ran her palms along the corded strength of his throat, over the rigid power of his shoulders and down the length of his very hard, very buffed arms. She purred deep in her throat at the feel of all those muscles.
“Mmm,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “You have the most incredible body.”
“BUD/S,” was all Sam said before taking her mouth again. Even though his tongue danced a sweet and tempting dance over hers, Bryanna’s belly tightened with misery.
Even as hot need clawed through her belly, Bryanna fought the feeling that she was betraying herself. It was as if she were worshipping at the throne of her own heartbreak. The very body she wanted more than her next breath was honed by the very thing that would take Sam away from her.
Still, she couldn’t resist.
Desperate to make him want her, to need her, as much as she did him, Bryanna’s mouth grew hotter. She nipped and sucked, licking and teasing until Sam’s mouth was voracious against hers.
She felt as if he were eating her up in big, starving bites.
And she wanted more.
His hands were hot through the cool satin that slicked, tight, over her torso. Because the satin was so heavy and thick, she gave a brief moan of regret when he cupped her breasts because she couldn’t feel more than pressure.
It was like being trapped, her nipples hard and aching inside, his hands hard and tempting outside the corset. Bryanna arched her back, pressing tighter, pushing into those big hands of his.
“Touch me,” she demanded against his lips, her fingers digging into his arms as if she held tight enough he’d move his hands, slide them under the fabric, stroke her aching flesh. “Touch me, now.”
“Anything you want, baby,” he murmured, his mouth skimming along her jaw.
Anything she wanted?
Oh, she wished.
Focus on the pleasure, she ordered herself.
Just the pleasure.
With that in mind, she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back as if her hair weighed a ton. And waited.
Would his touch be as gentle as his lips were as he pressed kisses along her throat? When his fingers skimmed, so soft and sweet, along the sharp curve of her corset where it dipped between her breasts, she figured he would.
The he moved.
The cool air hit her a moment before the whoosh of ripping fabric sounded in her ears. Was she naked?
She did a quick mental scan and realized that, yes.
Except for her tiny satin panties, she was naked.
Her eyes flew open, her shocked stare meeting the passionate intensity in his midnight eyes.
That powerful gaze was locked on hers as his hands cupped her bare breasts. Sam had big hands. Wide palmed, long fingered and hot. So hot.
He simply held tight while staring into her eyes.
Bryanna trembled.
Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse racing as her mind blurred with desire.
She wanted to say something—anything—but she couldn’t find her voice. She couldn’t even find words. She was completely under Sam’s spell.
As if he’d just been waiting for her to realize it, he smiled. A slow, wicked smile echoed by the triumphant look in his eyes.
“Mine,” he claimed in a low, guttural voice just before he buried his face between her breasts.
Desire, already coiling low and hot, snapped then and there. Pleasure climaxed low in Bryanna’s belly, the orgasm making her clit quiver and her breath come in strangled gasps.
“Inside me,” she begged. “I want you hard and deep inside me.”
But Sam was too focused on his what he was doing to listen to her plea.
His eyes shifted down to watch his hands as he rubbed his hands over her breasts. The work-roughened palms brushed, swirled, rubbed her nipples into rigid delight.
“Sam,” she gasped, her own hands sliding down to grasp his wrists. She wanted more. Needed so much more.
“Not done, yet.”
Desperate to change his mind, she slipped her hands over the back of his, their fingers tangling as she tried to make him move.
And he did, but not the way she’d planned.
As if she wasn’t hanging on to them, his hands slipped lower to cup her breasts, lifting them for his heated perusal.
He shifted their entwined fingers, his swirling around her aureole so her fingernail scraped along the edge of her nipple, making her gasp and press her thighs tight together and squirm.
Then he lowered his head.
His mouth moved from breast to breast, his tongue swirling one nipple then the other. His teeth scraped left, then right, sucking hard, then soothing soft.
She came in wave after quaking wave.
It was like being pulled into a whirlwind of pleasure, the intensity of it spinning her around and around until Bryanna was dizzy and helpless.
She felt incredible.
But she wanted more.
His dick pressed, hard and tempting against her belly. Her hips pushed and swiveled as she tried to tempt him lower, tempt him inside.
Releasing his hands, her fingers raced down, sliding between their bodies to struggle with his belt, his zipper, the button on his jeans. It felt as if it took forever, but finally—oh, baby, finally—she rubbed the pads of her fingers over the velvet head of his dick.
Her mouth watere
d to taste.
Her nether lips ached for a touch.
Her body throbbed with need.
Tired of waiting, she pressed her hand deeper into his jeans, her fingers wrapping around the impressive width of his erection. She couldn’t bring them together to touch. So she slid them up, then down, grasping tighter with each glide.
Then she rubbed her thumb over the head again, moaning when it slipped over a drop of pre-cum.
“Mmm,” she moaned, sliding over it again.
Then, her eyes locked on his, she slipped her hand free again and waited until he opened his eyes. Then she licked it off her thumb and smiled.
A slow, seductive smile.
That’s all it took.
Faster than she could blink, her panties were gone. Sam’s clothes flew this way and that, his mouth never leaving her tingling nipple.
She shifted as if to move toward the bed, but before she could, Sam had her pressed between his body and the wall.
His hands cupped her butt, lifting her, angling her.
Then he plunged.
Hot and hard.
Oh, God. So hot and hard.
Lights exploded behind Bryanna’s closed eyes as he thrust deeper. She pressed her shoulder blades flat against the wall, angling her waist higher so she could wrap her legs around his hips. The heels of her feet dug into his butt cheeks as she met every pounding thrust with one of her own. Her body held his tight, gripping as if to keep him there, inside her, forever.
He lifted his head from her well-pleasured nipple to bury his face in the curve of her throat. His mouth was hot, his teeth gentle as he bit, sucked, enticed.
Bryanna exploded.
Even as pleasure burst through her body in hard, pounding waves, everything around her went black. A ringing filled her ears, drowning the sound of their labored breath.
Then Sam stiffened.
He dove, hesitated, then dove deeper.
And once again.
Then he erupted.
The feel of him coming inside her sent Bryanna over again with a keening cry.
She didn’t know how long it was between her orgasm and her gentle return to awareness. It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour. Hell, it could have been a day before Bryanna could feel her toes again and realized they were on the floor. The only thing keeping her lax body upright was Sam, with his hands anchored to the wall on either side of her head and his hard length pressed tight to her softer curves
“Damn, Bry,” Sam breathed, his words warm against her throat. He nuzzled in for a moment before lifting his head to grin at her. Bryanna’s heart melted at the sight of his smile, so sweet and sexy at the same time.
She didn’t know what it was about the guy that had her so hooked. She just knew she felt as if her heart would curl up in misery and whither away without him.
Blinking away hot tears, she made a show of rubbing her hand over the rigid muscles of his pec instead.
“Seriously, wow,” she said, trying to smile.
Before she could tell if her attempt worked or not, Sam swept her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed. Without letting her go, he dropped so they both bounced on the mattress, making her giggle.
“I missed you,” she admitted, curling into his body. Her fingers tiptoed through the soft scattering of black hair on his chest, then got distracted by the hard muscles there.
“Babe, I missed you like crazy,” he said against her hair as he hugged her tight.
The intensity of his words hit her hard, making her chest ache with need. Needing to ignore it, knowing emotional ties were the last thing he wanted right now, she tried to lighten the mood.
“I missed this amazing body, too,” she said, tapping his bicep. “You’ve always been hot, but let me tell you, Sam Morelli, you’re amazingly hot now.”
“You like?” Sam shifted upright, straddling her body. His knees were warm against her hips, his abs so hard and ripped that Bryanna could barely focus on his words.
Then he lifted one arm and flexed.
His bicep rippled.
It freaking rippled.
Holy hell, he was gorgeous.
She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. Her gaze slowly, reluctantly lifted to meet his.
“You look good,” she murmured with a shudder as a delicate orgasm rippled through her at the feel of his muscles. “Good, hard and ripped.”
“Not so much now, but give me a few minutes,” he said with a grin as he pressed his already growing erection against the wet curls between her thighs. Still riding on waves of the many delicious orgasms, Bryanna was surprised to feel the need coil again, juicy with need.
“I’m all for whatever you can get up in a few minutes, or a few hours,” she teased, slanting him a wicked look through her lashes. “But in this instance, I was referring to your other muscles. You know, the less important ones.”
“Thank BUD/S for those,” Sam said, grinning at her reaction. “I won’t have an ounce of body fat left after I get through Jump School and SQT.”
She gave a soft hum, hoping he’d take it as agreement, even as she lowered her eyes to hide her misery.
“Did I tell you I set a record?” As he went on about his tests and times, the heady glow of pleasure that’d surrounded her faded. Despite the warmth radiating off of Sam she shivered inside, and missed most of his words until he said, “Sweet, isn’t it?”
“Mmm, sweet.”
“We should celebrate.” At her arch look, he winked. “After. We’ll celebrate after with something to eat.”
Bryanna couldn’t help it. Despite the pain in her heart, she had to laugh. He was simply the most amazing combination. A sex god, a strong alpha male and a cuddly little boy all rolled into one gorgeous package.
“Ice cream?” she suggested. Since she knew his sweet tooth, she had a quart of Chunky Monkey and another of Peppermint Swirl in the freezer.
“Perfect,” he decided. But before she could shift out from under him, though, Sam leaned down.
His hand tunneled into her hair, cupping the back of her head and lifting her just enough to meet his mouth. His lips swept over hers,
“After,” he repeated.
Then he took her all over again.
Chapter 4
His lust satisfied—at least temporarily—Sam sauntered into the kitchen with a smile on his face and the warm beer he’d forgotten in hand.
“What can I do to help?” he asked, coming up behind Bryanna to wrap one arm around her waist. When he pulled her tight against him, he realized his lust wasn’t nearly as satisfied as he’d thought.
“Sam,” Bryanna protested with a laugh as he nibbled his way down her throat. He nuzzled her robe aside so he could taste the sweet silk of her shoulder. But before he could lift his hand to get to the rest of her curves under that robe, she pulled away. “It’s almost dinner time.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he said with a wicked grin, reaching out to play with the collar of her robe. She wore a real one this time, the berry colored fabric soft and silky and not a bit see-through.
“You shouldn’t be in here. You should be out there,” she said, turning to wave her hand toward the living room. When she spotted the beer still dangling from his fingers she grabbed it and had it turned upside down, draining in the sink before he could protest. She skirted around him and opened the fridge while he was still frowning at the empty bottle.
“Here. Here’s a fresh beer,” she told him, sliding it into his hand while turning him toward the exit. “You go on out and relax. I’ll have dinner done in just a few minutes.”
He wanted to protest.
He didn’t want to relax. He wasn’t even sure he wanted dinner. He did want Bryanna, though. He wanted to watch her slap together her famous tuna fish or attempt to do something edible with canned soup. To talk with her about what she’d been up to, or what he’d been doing while he was away. To simply enjoy her company the way he usually did.
Bette
r yet, he wanted to decipher the look in her eyes, to figure out what was wrong.
Because something clearly was.
“Bry—”
“I’m sure you worked your butt off during—” she broke off, a combination of worry and dismay flashing in her eyes before she corrected, “over the last few months. You should relax. Go into the living room, put your feet up. I DVR’d some football games. Watch one, or check out the new Patterson novel I picked up for you.”
“I’d rather stay here.” He added his most charming smile. But before he could reach out to use any of his other charms, Bryanna stepped back.
“I need to cook dinner, Sam. You know it’ll take all of my concentration. So go. Just,” she made a shooing motion with her fingers, “Go.”
Obviously, he had no choice.
He and his beer went into the living room to relax.
He scrolled through the games and appreciated that she’d caught all the ones he’d have wanted to see. Then he turned off the TV.
He lifted the stack of four novels from the coffee table, the books clamped between his thumb and pinkie. They all looked good. But he set them back down, unread. He drank the beer in three swallows, then paced the room.
It looked the same.
When he’d been growing up, not a month went by that his mom didn’t change something. The furniture arrangement, the paint on the walls, the curtains on the windows. She had bins of pillows and doodads she’d alternate regularly. It’d always freaked him out to have to stand in the doorway for a good long second before he was sure he was in the right place.
But not Bryanna.
Pacing back toward the kitchen, he grabbed the stuffed penguin from the couch, tossing it in the air as he walked. Bryanna had the good sense to know that her place looked great. Comfortably stylish, he supposed. And when it was right, she didn’t screw it up changing pillows or scratching the hardwood floor when she hauled the couch across it. His girl, she knew when she had a good thing, and she appreciated it.
