by Arianna Hart
“Really? I’ve never heard that before.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She could feel the blood rushing through her veins, desire bubbling through them like champagne.
“Trust me. There are many proven medical benefits to having orgasms.”
“Besides relieving, what was it? Toxic sperm back up?”
“Absolutely. Orgasms lower your blood pressure.” He leaned down, his lips a hair’s breadth away from hers.
That could come in handy right about now as she felt like her blood pressure was sky high.
“I’ve heard sex was a good stress reliever, too.” She licked her lips and could practically taste him he was so close.
“Oh yes. Have I mentioned I’m feeling particularly stressed right now?”
“That can’t be good for your creativity.” She gave in to the pull of attraction that seemed to draw her to him like a magnet and wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him down to meet her.
He slipped his tongue into her mouth, teasing hers and drawing her into the intimate fencing match. Faith melted against him, which pressed his erection hard against her stomach. He hadn’t moved his hands, but she couldn’t keep hers still. She wanted to feel his bare skin, so she lifted the hem of his T-shirt and dragged her nails along his rib cage.
“Bend down, you’re too tall for me to get this over your head,” she whispered frantically, wanting to expose his chest to her gaze.
“Happily, as long as you lose your shirt, too.”
For a second, she wanted to refuse, but then he whipped his shirt over his head and she saw the acres of muscle and tanned skin and wanted nothing more than to rub her bare breasts against him.
“Here, let me help you.” He slipped his hands under her pajama top and had it off her in no time. “Shit, I’ve been dreaming about seeing you like this, and it doesn’t come close to the reality.” He cupped her breasts and drew a nipple into his hot, wet mouth.
“You’ve been dreaming about me? Naked?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been walking around with a hard-on since the first time I saw you. I’ve had to learn creative ways to hide it every time I come within ten feet of you. Babe, the things I want to do to you, with you.”
Faith rubbed up against his chest, his hair teasing her sensitized nipples almost painfully. Her skin felt too small to contain all the things happening inside of her. “Tell me about them. No, better yet, show me.”
He stared into her eyes, as if searching for the truth, before capturing her mouth again. His hands cupped her mostly naked butt, pulling her against his jean-clad thigh. Her thong was not up to the task of protecting her from such an invasion. Desire flared along every nerve ending as she ground herself against his muscular leg. Tension coiled tighter and tighter, and moisture pooled between her thighs.
God, had she ever felt this level of need before? Her body was on fire for him and she couldn’t get enough skin to skin contact. “Take me to bed, Sam.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her the few steps to the stairs. “Ladies first.”
“You just want me to first so you can look at my butt.”
“Absolutely. I’ve developed something of an obsession with your ass.”
Heat rushed to her face as she started up the stairs ahead of him, but any embarrassment or lingering doubts about how her body stacked up against the other women he’d been with couldn’t last when he pressed his mouth against the dimple at the base of her spine.
“You should always wear thongs. Nothing but thongs,” he murmured against her back. His fingers were calloused, and the roughness against the soft skin of her behind added another sensation to the mix that was already overwhelming her. “I want to worship your ass for hours.” He pressed fevered, open-mouth kisses along the globes while his fingers traced the path of her lace thong.
Faith’s breath caught in her chest, and she could barely stay upright. She bent forward, holding onto the stairs above her to keep from falling over. He groaned as her position thrust her butt higher in the air. The vibration of his voice along her skin almost did her in.
Was this really happening? After weeks of wanting, was she really going to have sex with Sam? Was she ready?
His tongue traced the crease where her thigh met her butt and lust burned away any second thoughts or insecurities she had. This was Sam. He wanted her and heaven knew she wanted him.
“Bed. For the love of God, the bed.” She stumbled away from his far too enticing touch and practically crawled up the remaining stairs.
The glint of her purse caught her eye and she said a silent prayer of thanks to friends with dirty minds. Mary Ellen had shoved condoms in her purse before she left. Faith fumbled with the clasp, grabbing the foil packages while the rest of the contents went skittering along the wood floor.
“Condoms.” She held them up like a trophy.
“I love a woman who comes prepared,” he said as he wrestled his pants off.
Faith’s legs had all the strength of wet noodles, but she wanted to get a better look at him in all his naked glory.
And glorious it was. His legs went on forever, leading to narrow hips and a broad chest. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged, and his chest was lightly covered in hair that trailed down over defined abs and, wow.
His erection jutted out from his body, long and hard and practically pulsing with need. She didn’t have a large sample to compare him to, but his cock looked larger than average to her.
“Come here,” he ordered, holding out his hand.
Her legs shook, but not with fear. Desire thrummed through her, making the blood rush through her veins. She didn’t feel the slightest bit self-conscious as she stripped her thong off and tossed it aside. How could see feel anything less than beautiful when Sam looked at her with fire blazing in his eyes?
He yanked her against his chest and pressed fevered kisses along her neck. “I’m going to lick every inch of you. Every. Single. Inch. Then do it again.”
“Okay.”
“I wasn’t asking permission.”
The room spun as he pressed her down onto the mattress and braced himself over her. She ran her fingers over his chest, loving the way the dark hair curled and sprung back as she traced his pecs. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to lick and taste. She wanted to touch him, too.
She reached down between his legs, but he pulled away.
“Not yet. This is all about your desires.”
“But I want to touch you, to give you pleasure.”
“Trust me. I can’t handle much more pleasure. Let me be somewhat unselfish, for once. Just take what I give you.”
And give he did. His mouth was everywhere, his lips gliding along the sensitive underside of her breasts, his teeth gently nipping along her rib cage, his tongue tracing a trail of fire down the crease of her inner thigh. He licked and bit and teased his way between her legs, spreading her thighs apart so he could settle between them.
Faith felt exposed but too desperate to care. She was soaking wet with need, and when he blew a stream of air across her swollen core, she almost shot off the bed. His mouth was so close to the bundle of nerves just aching for his touch, but her brain was too fogged to form the words to ask him to touch her. All she could utter was, “Please.”
“Please what? Touch you?”
“Yes.”
“Like this?” He slid a finger inside her, filling and stretching her. “Or like this?” He traced his tongue over her clit.
“God.” Her head whipped back and forth as her hips thrust closer to his mouth. Tension coiled low in her belly, building and building toward explosion. When he shoved a second finger into her and thrust faster, she came apart, shuddering and shaking with the force of her release.
“Where are the condoms?” he asked, his mouth against her thigh. The vibration of his voice sent her quivering again. “Faith, babe. I’m holding on by a thread here. Where did you put the condoms?”
She patted the mattress weakly, searching for the crinkle of foil and found it under her hip. “Here,” she said weakly.
Vaguely, she heard the package open. She had an urge to cover him herself, but her body was so languid, so boneless, she could do no more than lift her heavy eyelids to watch him do it.
“I wanted to touch you. Taste you,” she said.
“Next time.”
“I have two more condoms.”
“I like the way you think.” He made room for himself between her legs and gently eased his cock into her entrance. “But not nearly as much as I like the way you feel. Fuck, you’re tight, and hot and soft. I’m not going to last. I’ve wanted you too much for too long. Faith, my Faith,” he groaned.
Slowly, so very slowly, he eased himself inside until he was sheathed to the hilt. Faith was full and stretched and so incredibly complete. She sighed and wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting to keep him close.
He clasped her behind in his strong hands and tilted her hips higher as he drove even deeper into her. She arched her back, trying to match his thrusts. When he captured a nipple with his teeth, she felt the storm build again.
“I want this to go on forever, you feel so fucking good.” He drove harder. “Too good.” His hip jackhammered against her, pushing the pace faster and faster.
Faith let out a wordless scream as another orgasm swamped her, drowning her in waves of pleasure so intense she couldn’t breathe.
“Yes, oh God, yes.” he bucked against her as he found his own release and then collapsed.
Chapter Ten
By the time Sam got back from disposing of the condom and washing up, Faith was curled up in a ball, sound asleep. A wry smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “There’s two more condoms, my ass. You’re all talk Goldilocks.”
He slipped into bed next to her and curled his body around her. Damn, but she was a delicious handful. Her ass was nestled against his groin, and he slid one hand between her plump breasts. She moaned softly and wiggled against him. It was probably too warm to be spooning, but she felt too fucking good in his arms to stop.
When was the last time he’d held a woman in his arms after sex? Hell, he didn’t even remember the name of the last woman he’d slept with. That was part of the reason he ended up in Dale. While he was on tour, if he wasn’t in the “on” phase of his on-again-off-again relationship with Bridgette, there were plenty of women more than willing to hop into bed with him. Sex became just one more need to be met, like eating or sleeping.
At first, that had been one of the great perks to fame. He’d sampled his share of groupies and felt not an iota of guilt. Sex had always come easily for him. By the time he was fourteen and realized boys and girls had interlocking parts for a reason, he’d been already almost six feet tall and still growing. During freshmen year, he’d had his pick of junior and senior girls more than willing to teach him what to do in the back of their daddies’ cars.
He enjoyed women, always tried to treat them well and make sure they got as much pleasure as he did from the experience, but he’d never wanted to give more to a woman before. He’d cared for women before. He didn’t delude himself into believing he loved them, at least not the way his father had loved his mother. That kind of all-consuming love baffled him and scared him more than a little bit. His father never recovered from his mother’s death. Sure, he’d dated. Sam came by his looks naturally, and his father had still been pretty young when he’d became a widower. But he’d never re-married.
Loving someone so much that losing them tore a chunk out of you scared the absolute hell out of Sam.
He didn’t think wanting to feel Faith in his arms meant he loved her, but he definitely didn’t want to lose her just yet, either. And it had nothing to do with her being the only female around. What was it about her that hooked him, though?
She was sexy as hell, but that wasn’t it. Or at least not just that. He’d be lying if he said her body wasn’t a big part of the attraction. He loved watching her cook and then eating what she made, even if it was only burgers and potato salad, but that wasn’t it, either. There was something more to her that he couldn’t identify. Something that was just Faith, and he knew no other woman would have it.
He settled himself closer to her, enjoying the way she fit against him. It pissed him off that someone had broken into her house and trashed her things, but if it gave him an excuse to sleep with her every night, he’d take it.
Of course, the kid would be back soon. That could complicate things. And he was headed back to L.A. eventually, too. He didn’t figure Faith would drop everything for a cross country booty call, whether she had a kid or not. Too bad he couldn’t record the album here, that would buy him more time with her.
Then again, he’d produced his own albums before. He could hire who he needed to fill in for studio musicians. There was no reason he had to record the album in L.A. Atlanta probably had everything he needed. He could go down there, rent studio time, and stay around Faith a little longer.
When his phone was fixed, he’d start researching possible studios. He’d wait to tell Dave his plan until he had a better idea of what was involved. Besides, he still had weeks left of his vacation. There was no need to rush it. He needed to get a few more songs down anyway.
Thinking about the song he was working on woke up the muse who’d been quiet ever since Sadie had alerted him to the attacker. Suddenly, sleep was no longer an option. As tempting as it was to snuggle up next to Faith, or maybe wake her up for round two, he had to get up. A new beat was pulsing beneath his skin, and he had to write it down before it disappeared.
He donned his discarded boxers and crept quietly back down the stairs. Faith didn’t even budge. Good thing he didn’t have an ego problem.
Sadie lifted her head from her spot on the kitchen floor and padded over to him as he made his way to the couch. “I’m glad someone misses me,” he said, rubbing her head. He grabbed the phone Faith had given him and made sure it was plugged in and the recording app turned on before he let the muse have free reign. He didn’t grab his guitar, there was no way he could play that and not wake Faith in a cabin this small. Instead, he tapped out the rhythm on the coffee table.
When the muse was riding him like this, he didn’t need fancy equipment or computer programs. He could write a song on the back of a city bus. He could hear how the instruments would sound as they blended together just from the tap of his fingers on the table. The song flowed out of him like rain. It started out low and slow, but built in intensity almost to a crescendo before slowing down again. Back and forth, ebb and flow. He could picture the give and take between two guitars, tossing the harmony back and forth. Words formed, and he sang them softly, not wanting to disturb Faith.
Give me what you’ve got, baby
Everything you’ve got, I want
Give it all, then give me more
’Cause everything I have is yours
He played around with a hook, thought about changing keys, and added a bridge verse before the muse let him stop. Turning off the recorder, he jotted down as many of the words as he could remember before working on the melody.
Reaching for the phone, he thumbed the playback feature while scribbling another phrase down. He couldn’t remember if that was the right phrasing or not.
Instead of hearing his lyrics, he heard something from a porn movie. Looking down, he realized he must have hit the video app instead of the voice recording one. Apparently, Faith’s dead husband had a thing for skin flicks. Smiling, he imagined asking Faith if this was one of the videos she didn’t want him to accidentally erase when she’d given him the phone. He was about to turn it off, when he got a look at the guy in the flick. It wasn’t a porno, it was the real deal. That was Faith’s husband, but the woman he was fucking certainly wasn’t Faith.
As soon as he realized it wasn’t a download, but an actual video, he fumbled around trying to shut it off. He accidentally hit the volume.
“I
s this what you want, bitch?”
Shit! Sam hit the end button, finally turning the thing off, but the damage was done. With a sense of dread riding him, he watched Faith’s descent down the stairs. Her hair was mussed and her lips swollen. She had his T-shirt on, probably because hers was still sitting on the kitchen floor.
“I’m sorry, it was an accident,” he said as soon as she took a step toward him. Her face was flushed, and he wasn’t sure whether it was from anger or embarrassment. “I grabbed the phone and hit what I thought was the voice recording app. I was trying to turn it off but hit the volume instead.”
She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and a death stare in her eyes. He felt himself squirming under that gaze just like a five-year-old.
“That was my husband and his boss at the law firm where he worked.”
“Did you know about it?” Some women looked the other way at their husband’s affairs, but he couldn’t imagine Faith being one of them.
“Good heavens, no. Do you think I could have stayed with him if I knew what a cheating, lying bastard he was?”
“Uh, no. When did you find out?”
“About a week after his funeral. I was organizing things, trying to decide what to do with his stuff because I couldn’t imagine getting rid of his belongings. I knew he had a ton of pictures on his phone because he always had it with him. I was flipping through them, crying my eyes out when I came across the video.”
“You must have been pissed.”
“Pissed doesn’t begin to cover it. I was hurt, angry, broken, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He was dead.”
“Did you confront the boss lady?”
Faith looked down, as if ashamed. “No. I didn’t have the courage. And then I found out I was pregnant. It was all I could do to get up in the morning, and then I had to figure out how to take care of not only myself, but also the life I was carrying. It took all my strength to do that, I didn’t have any left over to face Lydia.”
