by Avery Flynn
“I'll be waiting.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.
A shiver skipped down her spine and made everything south of the border tingle. “What if I don't want to talk with you? It has been a month.”
“It's true I have a lot to make up for, but I think you'll give me an A-plus.” His thumb caressed the spot where his lips had been.
God, she didn't realize just how much she'd missed his touch. Since the day they met, they hadn't been able to keep their hands to themselves. It was as if their bodies had known this was something special long before their own stubborn wills were willing to admit it. Her stomach flipped and flopped. This was the beginning and she couldn't wait to get started.
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
Josie dropped off a few more orders, handed over her application to Claire and hunted down Sam in the dining room. She found him sitting at the bar in a side room, drinking a black cup of coffee.
Grinning like a fool in love, she sat down on the stool next to him. “Hey there, hot stuff.”
He didn't answer, but instead slid a wooden rectangle across the mahogany bar to her. The length of a business envelope, the intricately carved box had an inlaid oak R in the middle of the lid. She caressed the letter and recognition hit her like a splash of water.
Rebecca's Bounty. The cave. With everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten about it.
“How'd you get this?”
“Hank's deputies recovered it as evidence. With Snips' death, he closed the case and released everything. I told him I'd bring this to you.”
“But it's not mine. This is your family's legacy.” She glanced out at his parents, laughing about something as they ate their lunches. “Your mom, she'll want it.”
“No. You found it. Whatever is in here, it's yours.”
“You haven't opened it?”
“It's not mine to open.”
Her hands shook as she fiddled with the latch. She pushed a lever and it clicked. The golden clasp popped open. Inside were several gold coins with the profile of a woman with flowing hair imprinted on them. She picked one up and held it in the palm of her hand. The word “liberty” and several stars were engraved on it, along with the year eighteen sixty-five.
Sam picked one of the coins up out of the box. “It's a Liberty Head gold coin. Rebecca must have brought them West with her from St. Louis.”
A large bleached canvas pouch lay to one side. Its heft surprised her when she lifted it from its spot. She carefully untied the string at the top and reached inside, only to touch dozens of cool stones with sharp edges. When she pulled one out, the large bright-green emerald with small diamonds surrounding it shone in the light.
“Her earrings.” She didn't even bother to try to keep the awe out of her voice.
“You should try them on.” Sam pushed a curl behind her ear, exposing her lobe to his perusal. Lust and something that looked a lot like love brought out the gold in his tawny eyes and his thumb stroked her bare ear and trailed down her neck.
Although they'd seen much more of each other, the intimacy of the moment shook her.
“No way. I don't have the best record as of late. I can't imagine what would happen to these babies if wore them.” She dropped the earring back in the pouch and handed it to Sam.
Only the velvet lining and a rolled-up piece of paper remained in Rebecca's treasure box. Slowly, she opened the scroll, revealing a charcoal sketch of McPherson's Bluff. With a few strokes Rebecca had managed to showcase the true depth and foreboding hope the bluff represented.
A chill sent goose bumps running up Josie's arms. “If it would be alright, I'd like to keep this.”
“It's all yours. Everyone in the family agrees that the treasure belongs to you. People have spent decades looking for Rebecca's Bounty and you're the one who found it.”
“But it's got to be worth—”
“A lot, yeah.” He shrugged his broad shoulders.
Her mind raced. The gold and jewelry had to be worth millions. There had to be enough value in Rebecca's Bounty to finance several decades of painting, if not a lifetime. She'd be able to help with her mother's medical bills.
Finally, she was free to do whatever she wanted. Her whole life was about to change. She'd had to go through hell first, but everything had fallen into place. It wasn't just the treasure though, she'd found something much more valuable and completely unexpected. Sam.
“Look, you found it. It's yours. Take it as a sign that your luck is about to change.” His stool screeched against the floor when he scooted back and stepped down. “Come on, there's something else I have to show you.”
“You wanted to show me your house?” Josie didn't know what she'd been expecting, but parking in front of Sam's one-story house sure wasn't it.
He laughed, the honeyed sound warming her from the inside out. His fingers held hers as they walked hand-in-hand to the front door. “Close your eyes.”
The words tickled her ear and when she closed her eyes, all she could picture was her tongue flicking across his peach nipple. In response, her own nubs hardened against the smooth silk of her leopard-print bra.
“We're going to have to revisit this position.” Sam pressed against her back, his rigid cock nestling in the crack of her ass. “I like making you guess what's going to happen next.”
Sam reached past her and the click of the doorknob reached her sensitive ears. He eased her forward into the living room. Inside, he drew his lips down the side of her neck, ending with a gentle nip at her collarbone. “Take a look and tell me what you think.”
Gone were the eggshell-white walls and bland window blinds. In their place were bright, pale lapis-blue walls and soft gray curtains. Her bottom lip shook and her heart went into overdrive. “This is the equivalent of some people going out and getting a full body tattoo.”
“Yeah, I think I threw poor Ned at the hardware store into shock when I asked for a gallon of something besides white or cream.”
“I can imagine that. But why did you do it?”
He took her face between his large palms, burying his fingers in her hair. “Because I've always been horrible at saying what I feel. In my defense, I've never had much to say about my emotions one way or another. With you, there's so much I want to say, but I just can't put it into words.”
“You did just fine at the hospital.”
He shook his head. “The exception that proves the rule.” He paused, his gaze focusing on the painting of McPherson's Bluff above the couch as if he could find what he wanted to say hidden in the brush strokes. Expelling a deep breath, he turned his attention on her. “I'm not very good at saying how I feel about you, Josie, but I promise I'll always show you.”
“I'll show you too.” There were a million things Josie wanted to talk about, but it was the time for action. She leaned into him and captured his mouth, her tongue demanding entrance, and all the fear, uncertainty and hunger of the past few weeks rushed to the forefront.
Her hands snaked around him, sneaking underneath his soft red sweater. A T-shirt tucked into his jeans blocked her from skin-to-skin contact and she wanted to shred the cotton to get at him, to touch and taste his warm skin. She yanked the shirt from his jeans, exposing a slim patch of bare skin along his lower back. Electricity sparked between them, traveling from her fingertips to her clit in a bolt of passion. Weaving her hand between the cotton and his skin, she pushed the material higher, but not enough.
Sam broke the kiss and pushed her back a few inches, pulling his shirt and sweater off. “Take your clothes off.”
The bass vibrations in his voice turned her belly into molten want. She smirked and trailed her fingers down the deep V of her emerald-green shirt. Enjoying the pained pleasure reflected in his hazel eyes, she inched her fingers over her right tit, lingering on her nipple, before heading south until she grasped the shirt's hem between two fingers.
“And what if I say no?”
His Adam's apple bobbed at her question, but he met her challenging stare with one of his own. “Then I'll rip it off you.”
“That doesn't sound very professorial of you.”
“Right now I'm not teaching you anything, I figure that game will come later—unless you want me to get out my ruler.”
“Yes, sir.” She whipped the shirt off and stood before him in her bra and low-slung jeans. Again, she caressed her sensitive skin on the way back down to the button on her jeans and watched his cock jump underneath his zipper. “I think you like watching me touch myself.”
“God, yes.”
She flicked the button open. “I've spent so many nights since Vegas imagining it was your fingers sliding into my wet slit, making me come. Then when you finally did touch me again, that night after we danced at Robidoux Roadhouse, you were even better than my fantasies.”
Heat flushed his cheeks, deepening the pink of the new scar on his cheek, and he took a step forward. He grasped her waistband and yanked her to him.
Automatically, her hands went to his shoulders for balance. She skimmed her palms across his upper chest, his coarse hair rough against her delicate skin. Inhaling his musky scent, Josie tasted her way across his collarbone, ending with a nip on his pectoral muscle.
Sam's grip tightened on her jeans and he half moaned, half groaned her name. The sound only encouraged her to take it further and she scraped her nails across his shoulder blades, because making him lose some of that tightly guarded control turned her on. Rough and hard, he pulled her against his cock, rocking against her. Tension tightened in her belly as she met each stroke.
Fast as a whip, he turned her around and bent her over the back of the couch. Tall as she was, only the tips of her toes maintained contact with the floor.
“Are you sure you're up for this?” Sam pressed one hand between her shoulder blades, holding her in place with her ass in the air.
Anticipation rippled through her body. “As long as you're not planning to toss me into a walk-in freezer, we're all good.”
“No, I'm going to keep you hot and wet for some time.” He peeled her jeans off her legs, exposing the leopard-print thong framing her ass. Squeezing each globe, he pulled them apart. His thumb stroked down her wet center, her desire soaking her thong. “Fuck, Josie, you are so wet.”
The thick digit pushed aside the silky material and sank into her pussy. Pleasure arched her back as tight as a bow and she pushed against his hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on the little shivers making her body vibrate.
“Does that feel good?”
“Fuck yes.”
He laughed and increased his speed. Bright colors appeared on the edges of her vision as the shivers grew in intensity.
The sound of a zipper lowering pierced through her euphoria. “You have my dick so hard right now. I'm going to slide it into your wet pussy, but not until you orgasm first. I want you to come all over my hand. Then I want you to taste the wetness on my fingers while you stroke my cock. That sound good to you?”
And the man said he didn't know how to put his feelings into words. Damn, if he kept this up he could make her climax from across the room with only his dirty talk and attitude.
His thumb slowed but the pressure increased and he added the additional sweet torment of two fingers sliding on either side of her hard clit. “You have to say something, Josie, or I'll have to stop. And I don't want to stop. I want to fuck you until my body has told you everything I can't. Do you understand me?”
She mewled her assent as every muscle tightened.
“Tell me you want that.” He timed his thrusts with each word, going deeper and harder with each syllable. “Tell. Me.”
“Yes.” A lightning bolt of color snapped across her line of sight. Her walls clenched his thumb as her body became rigid with an orgasm that had her calling out his name.
Muscles melted, she slid down the couch, his arms around her, until they both ended up in a pile of naked limbs on the floor. The vibrant hues of her orgasm muted back into reality and her heart slowed to a normal rhythm as she rested her head on his bare chest.
Only Sam had ever made her come so hard the world glowed neon. That beat her solo fantasies by a long shot. Thinking of which, her nipples pointed at the memory of Sam's request, but he didn't make a move. Perhaps it was just the heat of the moment, or maybe he wasn't as confident in pushing boundaries as he’d said but she wasn't going to let it pass quietly into the night. They'd gone through too much together to go back to playing it soft and sweet.
Her hand snaked down to his and she raised it so that his thumb rested against the bottom lip of her open mouth. Watching his hazel eyes, she extended the tip of her tongue and licked the tangy wetness while circling her fingers around his hard cock. She closed her lips around his thumb and drew it into her mouth. His dick jumped in her hand. She squeezed and pumped it in a steady pace as she sucked his thumb clean.
Turning her focus to the prize in her hand, she spotted the pre-cum pooling on the tip. She leaned down and without slowing her pace, wiped the head across her lips as if she were putting on lipstick. Maintaining eye contact, she slowly and deliberately licked the liquid from her mouth.
She let go of his cock, reached around behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it drop to the floor. The hunger in his eyes started the electric buzz in her clit again. She stood up, spread her legs slightly more than shoulder-width apart and leaned over the back of the couch until her heavy breasts pressed against the back cushion. “Doesn't this pussy look good enough to fuck?”
Within two heartbeats, he was behind her burying his cock in her wetness. His strong hands clasped her hips, keeping her in place, as he slammed into her deep and at an angle that teased her G-spot. Her ass cheeks bounced with the impact of each stroke.
“You're so tight, so fucking good.” He reached around and teasingly pinched her clit. “Come for me again. I want to feel you squeeze my cock with that hot pussy.”
His fingers circled her nub in tight revolutions, robbing her of the ability to think or form words. All she could do was feel the pressure building inside her escalate to an almost painful level. Neon returned to the edges of her vision, brightening every hue to psychedelic levels.
She lifted her right leg, stretching it outward so her knee rested on the top of the couch. The change allowed him to plunge deeper inside her, every movement taking her closer and closer to release. The couch pressed painfully against her hipbones, but she was too close to try to adjust her position again. The colors heightened, blurring out everything else except for the kaleidoscope of glowing pigments as an orgasm shook her, body and soul.
“Oh my God, Josie.” Sam's fingers bit into her flesh and he yanked her back one more time before his climax exploded and he collapsed on her.
It took a few minutes for the real world to invade with a trio of shivers that had nothing to do with sex, and a mountain of goose bumps across Josie's forearms.
Sam rubbed his hands across her arms. “Come on, let's get you under the covers so I can warm you up again.”
Together they made their way into his bedroom, one wall now a burnt sienna. “My new favorite color.”
“Oh yeah, why's that?”
Josie wrapped her arm around his waist, relishing the flex of muscle underneath her fingertips. “Because it makes me think of you.”
Epilogue
Josie paused and stuck the end of the paintbrush in her mouth so she could stretch out the fingers on her right hand. She'd been at it for more than an hour, but something about the morning light in Sam's bedroom gave the rest of the world a soft glow, perfect for getting the image in her mind onto the canvas.
“Tell me again why I'm doing this,” Sam grumbled from across the room.
He looked perfect, exactly as she'd imagined that first night in Vegas. “Because I've been wanting to paint you since the moment I saw you and you've turned over a new, more adventurous leaf.”
>
“God, what was I thinking?”
Her concern he was really hating it evaporated the moment she looked up and saw the teasing glint in his hazel eyes. For the past month, he'd let his guard down a little bit more each day, and not just with her; his whole family had noticed the change. He'd even ordered something different for dinner at Juanita's, surprising the waiter so much that he'd spilled a drink.
She snarled her lip, mocking his sour expression. “Stop complaining and puff out your chest a little more.”
Across the room, Sam stood in his bright-green boxers, one hand gripping a makeshift shield of a trashcan lid and the other holding a broom handle pointed out as if it were a spear. A ray of light landed on his head, turning his light-brown hair to the burnt sienna color that had first caught her eye in Vegas and matched the far wall. Perfect. She whipped the brush out of her mouth, dipped it in the paint on her palette and recreated the reddish hue in his hair.
Sam squinted his eyes and shifted his weight.
“You just had a break ten minutes ago, are you getting tired already?”
“Tired is not what I'm feeling.” He adjusted his stance again.
“Oh come on, the eggs weren't that undercooked.” But they had been a mess.
He shook his head. “Wrong again.”
Her gaze dropped lower to the outline of his fast-hardening cock pressing against his boxers. An answering heat filled her and her nipples puckered under the thin cotton T-shirt. Then the light moved a smidgen, returning her attention to the Spartan warrior in front of her. “Damn, that looks good but I only have this light for a little bit longer.”
“I'll give you fifteen minutes and then I'm going to extract revenge for making me stare at you dressed only in one of my old T-shirts for the past hour.”
It was true, the threadbare white cotton undershirt barely reached her thighs and did nothing to disguise her freely swinging tits. Sam's revenge sounded very sweet.
“Now that sounds like fun.”
