Careless Whisper

by Wendi Zwaduk

  “So you’re not complaining?”

  “No.” She brushed her fingers over his cheek. “So much has happened, things I don’t understand, but I don’t want to walk away. Is it bad I want to be with you after the lockdown?”

  “I get you, honey, and it’s perfect. I wasn’t planning on skipping out on you either.” Ryan gathered her close once again. “I’d like to give us a try, too.”

  Her even, sleepy breath fanned over his skin. “We need to crash.”

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

  A mumbled response was all he got. He slipped into her mind for a moment. “He’s the man of my dreams.”

  Ryan closed his eyes. “I love you, too, babe.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Ryan?”

  The scents were right—rose and powder, but the tone of the voice wasn’t Samara’s. On a sigh, he opened his eyes. Instead of Samara curled against him, Felicity lay swathed in navy silk, her breasts straining the delicate fabric. Strategic cut outs bared the most intimate parts of her body. She licked her crimson lips and giggled. “You’re up.”

  Her gaze roved down his torso to the waning tent in the sheet. She curled her fingers around his cock, tugging slightly. “For me?”

  He blinked and jerked from her grasp. “Where is she?”

  Felicity shouldn’t—couldn’t be there. His heart belonged to Samara. This had to be a nightmare. Life knew when to throw curveballs. And to think, he’d just worked out a tentative relationship with Sam.

  “Who?” Felicity fluttered her lashes. Her lips drew into a bow.

  “Stop, Felicity.”

  “So you do want me.”

  “No. I want you to move on to the great beyond or wherever the fuck you’re supposed to go.”

  She scooted closer, rubbing her breasts on his arm, her nipples prodding his bicep. “You can’t mean that!”

  “I want Samara.”

  The seductive fire in her eyes turned to hatred. If he wasn’t mistaken, red ringed her pupils. Her top lip curled in a sneer, revealing her perfect white teeth. The rumble of her voice ricocheted through the bedroom. “You vowed to love me above all others. You can’t break your vows.”

  “Felicity.”

  Sliding on top of him as Samara had only hours before, Felicity threaded her fingers around his neck. “You’ll never forget me.”

  “Felicity!”

  Ryan gasped for breath as the room grew dark. The damned Jekyll and Hyde woman! He thrashed against her grip, clawing at her fingers. Samara’s voice broke through the fuzzy in his brain.

  “Ryan, wake up. Ryan?”

  Felicity’s eyes glowed blood red as her body faded. “I’m not through with you.”

  “Ryan?”

  “You’re forever mine.”

  Jerked from sleep, Ryan rubbed his eyes, desperate to get out of the dream. He swept his hands over the bed. Instead of Samara next to him, he touched the cool sheets. He stared around his bedroom. Morning sunshine bathed the bland blue walls and heavy dark furniture in warm yellow hues. The air wasn’t as thick, but his heart thundered in his chest as if he’d run a marathon. If Felicity wanted to toy with him some more, he wasn’t having it.

  Not when he could have and lose himself in Samara.

  A light glowed from the living room. Dear God, please let Samara be out there. Forgoing clothes, Ryan scrambled into the hallway. “Samara?”

  “Right here.”

  Ryan grabbed the doorframe to gather his breath. Samara sat wrapped in his tan crocheted blanket at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of her. She cocked her head. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

  “I did.”

  “It was a rhetorical question.”

  “You saw her, didn’t you?”

  “You called her name.”

  Shit.

  Samara fisted her trembling hands, concealing them behind the blanket. Ryan shoved into her mind, sickened by the unease he saw. A few hours prior, he showed me sexual highs I didn’t believe possible, but he wants someone else. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and crossed the room to be near her. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

  “You didn’t sound happy, if that helps.”

  “I don’t get it.” Ryan knelt next to her and rested his head in her lap. “None of it.” The scent of her perfume and femininity offered comfort as he caressed her thigh through the blanket.

  Withdrawing from the crocheted blanket, she stroked his hair. “Get what?”

  Grasping her free hand, he twined their fingers. “Felicity told me to move on and I did. She said I was free.”

  “You did see her because she needs you.” Samara stilled her hand in his downy soft hair. She closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s eight-thirty and the power’s back on. Want me to leave?”

  “Hell no.” Ryan sat up and cupped her jaw. He feathered a kiss to her lips, needing her more than oxygen. “I don’t want you to go anywhere. I love you.”

  She sank back in her chair, her mouth opening and closing in shock. “That’s a snap decision.”

  “It’s a sure decision. No doubts, no regrets.”

  “Ryan, you don’t know me.”

  “I know my heart and it belongs to you. I can be myself with you—domineering and cautious, rough and soft. Only you respond to me.” He rested his forehead against hers, punctuating his words with kisses. Anything to get through to her. “How about we forget the investigation and run off to Vegas? Mr. and Mrs. Ryan Black has a nice ring to it.”

  She stared at him in silence. Instead of reading her thoughts, he examined his own, not liking the things he saw. God, he’d pounced on her with both feet with his declarations and expected her to agree. She needed honesty, yes, but she also needed time. “Okay, we’ll wait until afterwards. I’m a patient guy.”

  “You can’t be serious.” She snorted. “Everything is a joke to you.”

  “You’re right. I’m not a patient man, but I am very serious.” Ryan slid his hands down her arms, sending warmth through his system. The blanket sagged open revealing her pebbled nipples. He licked his lips, needing to taste the exposed flesh. “We’d better get dressed. If I stare at you much longer, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  Samara wriggled out of the blanket, until it pooled at her thighs. “No? I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

  She wanted to toy with him? Perfect. “You started this.” Ryan scooped her out of the blanket and into his arms, capturing her mouth in a kiss. Taking the lead, she sucked on his tongue caressing and teasing him. Sizzles shot straight to his cock. He gasped and strode across the room in two strides. “And I intend to keep it going until we both drop, naughty girl.” He placed her on the couch and stepped back. “On your knees. I want to see your sweet ass.” He’d never hurt her, but how far would she trust him?

  Without a word, she draped herself over the arm of the sofa and presented her bottom. She glanced over her shoulder. “Like this?”

  “You cooperate well.” Ryan smoothed his hand over her creamy flesh, pleased when goose bumps prickled her skin. “I’ll reward you when I come back.” If he wanted to take her in every way, he needed a few supplies.

  His heart hammered in his chest as he sped to the bedroom. As he rummaged through the bedside drawer, a slew of emotions bombarded him. Lust, desire, euphoria…love. He’d blurted his feelings only minutes earlier. Although she hadn’t reciprocated verbally, he read the passion in her eyes.

  Spirit Mate.

  The words sounded like bliss in his ears. He grabbed the bottle and foil packets and headed back to the living room. To some the idea of leaving Samara in the prone position might be considered torture. Seeing her obeying his command sent a tidal wave of craving through his veins. He crossed the room and slapped her ass with a loud crack.

  No yelp. No cry. Her strength in the face of challenge and the blossom of pink across her ass cheek spurred him on. “You deserve a reward.”

  Curling his fingers
between her pussy lips, he smeared her cream over her clit. The tiny nub throbbed against his hand. He moaned and rubbed the slickness on his cock. “You’re wet for me?”

  “Yes.” Her hands fisted on either side of her head. “More.”

  Ryan spanked her bottom three times, smoothing the pads of his fingers over the tender skin between each strike. Instead of silence, Samara gasped and writhed against him.

  Halting her movements, he caressed her asshole with his thumb. “Mine, and I’m not sharing.” Ever. Samara brought out feelings of forever he’d long buried. If she was his Spirit Mate, then he’d never love another woman until the day he died. Even more reason to prove she belonged to him. “Mine, beautiful girl.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, please, fuck me.”

  The insistence in her voice combined with the level of trust she held for him caused him to pause. “Have you ever taken a man here?”

  “No, but I want you to.”

  Holy hell. No pause, no catch in her voice; just pure desire and certainty. “Then I need to prepare you.” He knelt on the floor, eye level with her pussy. The musky scent of her arousal drew him. He rubbed his nose along her inner thigh, basking in her femininity. Grabbing the lube, he warmed it in his palms. “A small chill.”

  She tensed momentarily as he squeezed the clear liquid onto her tight pucker. Using one finger, he entered her. “Push out, babe.”

  Although her knuckles turned white, she did as asked, welcoming more of his slick digit into her anus.

  “Oh my God!” Samara rode his hand as he added another finger to the tight space. “Please.”

  Parting her labia, he caressed her clit. “Are you begging for me?” Her cream coated his hand as her hips undulated. He pulled out of her ass, needing to hear the words. “Tell me in your mind.”

  Once again, she glanced over her shoulder. Her pants filled the air, but her unspoken words rang out loud and clear in his head. “Yours.”

  Ryan ripped the condom packet with his teeth and sheathed himself with his free hand. He grasped her hip and guided his cock into the rosy ring of muscle. “Beautiful.” He moaned as his dick slid into her body. “I can’t last. Damn, you make me want you so much.”

  Pumping his hips and plucking at her clit, he pistoned in and out of her tight channel, thrilled with each moan and whimper escaping her lips. Perspiration dotted her back and glistened on her spine. “So good…I want to come.”

  “Come for me, babe.” A feral cry erupted from his throat and he slumped forward as the orgasm washed over him. He latched onto the tender bit of skin between her neck and shoulder, leaving a love bite. The salty taste of her skin lingered on his tongue. He gulped oxygen, his cock still in her ass. “Ho-ly fuck, that was good.”

  A cross between a sigh and a giggle passed between her lips. “You’re squashing me. I like it, but it’s hard to breathe mashed against the couch arm.”

  Withdrawing from her bottom, Ryan stood. He tossed the spent condom in the trash and scooped Samara into his arms. “Let me worship you.”

  Resting her head on his shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “You make it sound so simple.”

  He led her into the bathroom in silence. The thought of questioning her cryptic statement crossed his mind more than once. He turned on the searing spray in the shower. In what seemed like a trance-like state, she allowed him to run the soapy cloth over her body. Once he rinsed them both off, he shut off the water and shrouded her in a towel. “What are you thinking?” There. He’d broken the silence. Why did his heart rate thunder and his palms sweat. Had he pushed her too far?

  She stared at him with glazed eyes. “The power is back on, it’s morning, I’m relaxed and could fall asleep right here in your arms.”

  Ryan released the breath he didn’t realise he’d held. “How about snuggling with me in bed?” Taking her hand, he strolled into the bedroom and turned down the sheet. “I’ll hold you forever if you’d like.”

  “Sounds perfect,” she murmured.

  Less than three seconds after her head hit the pillow, Samara drifted off to sleep. Maybe it wasn’t his back she’d ground her ass into, still, he wouldn’t change a thing. Eddie, for all his bluster, had the right idea. Being with the right woman at the right time made all the difference. He loved her more than he thought possible. Burying his nose in her hair and twining his arms around her abdomen, he succumbed to blissful, Samara-filled dreamy sleep.

  * * * *

  The screech of her cell phone tore Samara from slumber. Drawing a deep breath, she opened her eyes slowly. A male groan rumbled along her back. Ryan. The warmth of his breath kissed her shoulder. “I love you, Samara, so much.”

  “Yeah.” One night combined with over a year of yearning culminated into bone-deep need. The words, I love you, teetered on her tongue just out of reach. The shrill ring of another cell phone broke the silence.

  Ryan groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Why is my phone ringing when I want to cuddle you?”

  “You’re popular.”

  He rolled over and rubbed his erection between her thighs. “Fuck it. They can leave a voice mail. I’d rather stay where it’s soft and sexy—with you.”

  “It could be an emergency.” She nibbled on his chin, licking and sucking her way to his ear lobe. “Go answer it. I’ll still be here.”

  “Yeah?” Ryan slid off of her in a huff. He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed something off the floor. “Will you wear my shirt?”

  Samara scooted across the bed and wrapped her arms around his torso. “If it’s yours, I’ll happily wear it.”

  Ryan turned, smoothing his palm over her cheek. A smile she’d never seen before twitched on his lips. “Ryan?”

  “I’ll be right back.” He stood and strolled nude out of the room.

  She hugged the soft fabric against her breasts, taking in the lethal combination of his grin and the earthy scent of his cologne. Committing the moment to memory, she closed her eyes. Waiting never got her anywhere. Maybe going with the flow was the ticket.

  Just tell him you love him.

  She opened her eyes and nibbled her bottom lip. Okay, so no other man ever told her he loved her. Samara yanked the shirt over her head. Her heart clenched and her hands shook. But twenty-four hours! And he said he was gun shy when it came to giving away his heart. She willed her heart rate to resume a normal pace and stood. Time. She’d give him a chance to really decide what he wanted and then go from there.

  Chapter Nine

  “Ho-ly fuck.” Ryan re-entered the room and snatched his boxer shorts from the floor. When life chose to intrude, it barged in like a damned elephant. “Seems when Tony Cox couldn’t get you, he had Matilda call my phone and now she wants to see you today at four.” When he glanced at her, he paused, his boxers held loosely in front of his cock. “Damn, you are one sexy woman.”

  How he got so lucky as to have her in his bed still shocked and amazed him. She gave him permission to play, explore, and push her to her limits without complaint. His heart swelled with love for her.

  Samara lay amongst the sheets, her body swathed in his Ghost Explorers shirt. He groaned. Beneath the cotton, her peaked nipples beckoned. If he raised the hem an inch or two, he could feast on her pussy all over again.

  “Flatterer.” She tossed his rumpled shirt from the day before at him. “But thank you.”

  “I tell the God’s honest truth.”

  “Why did Tony Cox need me?”

  “Everything’s cleared for the lock down. What Matty wants is beyond me.” After yanking the garment over his head and his shorts past his hips, he closed the gap to her and pinned her to the mattress, snuggling her in his embrace. “Explain to me again how you managed to stay on the market so long. You’re my drug, babe.”

  “I never told you in the first place.”

  “I’m listening, sexy girl.” He’d confessed his darkest secrets. Her turn. “Let me see the secrets in your heart.”


  “Tell my ex I’m sexy. He thought I was”—she averted her gaze—”a bit on the heavy side and less than pretty.”

  Ryan kissed her cheek to redirect her gaze. Whatever she had in her past, he’d help her face. “Gimme the asshole’s number. I’ll call him out.” Beat the shit out of him. Any man who couldn’t respect and desire a woman the way God made her didn’t deserve the love of a woman like Samara.

  “Nolan wouldn’t listen.” She shook her head and wriggled away from him. “He’s always right.”

  “One of those.” Ryan snorted and followed her to the living room as she escaped from the bedroom. “I don’t believe his description, but I’m damned glad he let you go.” Now if he could get her to loosen up and see the beauty she possessed.

  “Then you’re one of the few guys who cared. I don’t tend to draw men easily. I thought I had Nolan, until I found out what he wanted. He married my sister Jonquil.” Samara folded her hands in front of her mouth, like a prayer. “She gets everything she wants and most anything she thinks is valuable to someone else.”

  “Jonquil?”

  “My folks were ex-hippies. Willow and Jonquil were expected. I was an oops.”

  “You are not a mistake or an oops.” He breathed in the scent of her shampoo. If he could hold her, just touch her. “You’re soft, sweet, and adorable. The best a man could ask for.”

  “You act like you know everything about me.” She snorted and shook her head, offering little resistance when he smoothed his hands around her waist. “How is it possible?”

  “You’re my other half, I’m positive.” He nipped her earlobe, drawing a shiver from her as she snuggled closer. “I know more than you think—you have a submissive side I find extremely attractive—but you want something more obscure?” He kissed her jaw and rubbed his nose along her cheek. “You like Billy Joel.”

  Her eyes widened when she turned to face him and wriggled out of his arms. “Huh?”

  “Your iPod is full of Billy Joel’s music.” He inched closer to her, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You like the colour red and prefer to wear your hair away from your face when you transcribe.”