Hot Mess

by Anne Conley

  Her ears perked up at Sam's voice. "My mom used to take me fishing. Those were some of my favorite memories from childhood. I want to share that with 'Manda, now that we've got a place to settle." His hand squeezed her thigh affectionately, and Rachel wondered if she was a part of his "settling" plans. Her heart fluttered at the thought, then she panicked a little. She'd never envisioned a man in her future. Suddenly Sam had seemed to wiggle his way into her life and she wasn't sure how to cope with it.

  "I've got a good spot I go to when the weather's right. You should come with me some time." Juan's affable voice soothed her panic. Sam was making plans with friends, not her. The thought calmed her somewhat, but his hand on her thigh was a constant reminder of her thought of what might happen later tonight. She was an adult, a single female in the twenty-first century. She knew what events could lead up to.

  About half-way through dinner, an announcement was made that the silent auction would be closing its bids in an hour.

  "I never got a chance to look at the auction items. Do you mind if I go look?" Rachel turned to Sam, whose eyes immediately widened in surprise.

  "No, of course not. Let's go." Holding her elbow, he rose with her, and led her through the tables out into the area where the auction items were set up in a row.

  There were framed art pieces by local artists, a basket of wines from a local winery, baskets of jams from a local bakery, a basket of chevre from a local cheese-maker, a set of signed books from a local author, an autographed picture of the president of the United States, and several other nice items. There was a gift card for a spa in town that Rachel bid on. The entire time, Sam was behind her, holding her waist, looking over her shoulder, breathing in her ear, making it difficult to concentrate.

  He inhaled deeply at one point in her perusal.

  "What are you doing, Sam?" She asked with a giggle in the back of her throat.

  "You just smell so good. I could eat you up." His voice was guttural and low in her ear, and it sent a shiver to her tummy. His mouth on her earlobe tickled, and she giggled again.

  "I'm having a really good time, tonight. Thanks for making me come out." She turned to look at him. His pupils had widened, darkening his eyes, which stared at her with inscrutable intensity.

  Softly, he said, "It is my pleasure, Rachel." The way her name sounded on his tongue made her think of lying naked on a furry carpet in her living room in front of a roaring fire, with champagne in hand, and Sam feeding her strawberries. She shook her head to clear the vision from her mind. She couldn't go there, yet. But seeing him standing here in front of her, with his dress uniform clinging to his broad shoulders, his sandy blond hair, a little too long to be professional, his steady gaze boring into her, melting her insides, she couldn't remember why she couldn't go there.

  "I can't wait to get you home." Slowly, he lowered his head, and Rachel panicked momentarily, before his lips covered hers in a chaste kiss that held promises of so much more to come. "I want to kiss those beautiful legs all over."

  She blushed, suddenly intoxicated with his scent, his masculinity, and the fact that he wanted her. But she had to keep her head. "We need to talk, first."

  He squeezed her hand. "We'll have plenty of time for all that. Ready to go back to the table? Or do you want to sneak out of here now?"

  She needed to get her head on straight, before she sat in the car with Sam again. "Table."

  He nodded and led her back to where they'd been eating. She couldn't help but admire his backside, strong shoulders, tapered waist, firm butt. Too bad it was covered by his jacket. She sighed, and he threw a knowing grin over his shoulder at her, before pulling out her chair for her.

  "What's the bid up to for the Spa?" Veronica asked her.

  Rachel told her what she'd just bid on it, and Veronica jumped up and ran to put another bid on it, before it closed.

  Sam chuckled to himself as he sat down, having overheard the exchange. Rachel turned to him. "What?"

  "You girls and your spa days."

  "Everybody needs a little pampering, now and then." Rachel whispered to herself, not intending for Sam to hear.

  His hand inched back to her thigh. "I'd pamper you, Rachel." His voice was so soft, she barely heard it over the other guests talking, but the implications were clear. She took a sip of water to clear the sudden lump in her throat.

  They continued their meal, Sam talking to Juan and Rachel talking to Veronica, the group talking together. The other people at the table were men and their wives that Sam had met, and he'd introduced them all to Rachel, but he didn't seem to know them all that well, and she couldn't remember all the names. If someone spoke to her, she answered, and was as gracious as possible, but she really wanted to go home and talk to Sam. She knew what they wanted to do, but she needed to tell him first.

  So he could go ahead and reject her before she got too attached.

  As soon as the dinner plates were cleared, and before the dessert plates were set out, Sam excused himself. She discreetly admired his backside as he walked away, presumably to go to the men's room. A nudge in her side distracted her.

  "They clean up good, don't they? I wish Juan would come home in his dress uniform every night, if you know what I mean."

  Rachel blushed, embarrassed she'd been so transparent in her admiration of her date. She wondered who else had seen her trying to scope out Sam's butt. Furtively glancing around the table, she saw that no one else seemed to have noticed.

  "It's okay. Juan says Sam really likes you."

  "I hope so." Rachel muttered. Her life was suddenly getting complicated, and she had to admit the idea had possibilities.

  "Shut up, girl. Look at you. You are hot! Have you seen the way he's looking at you?"

  The deejay started playing soft music as Sam returned to the table, interrupting Veronica's flow of chatter about how much he liked Rachel, much to her relief. She flashed him a smile, and he squeezed her thigh under the table, as soon as he sat down.

  Dessert came, a cherry chevre tartlet, with a flaky crust. When she cut into it, creamy cherry goodness oozed out. It was delicious.

  "Do you have much of a sweet tooth?" Sam murmured in her ear.

  Rachel nodded. "Yes. I love sweets. Why?"

  "You didn't finish your chicken, and it looks like you're about to lick that cherry juice off your plate. And all those moans from over there are making me a little jealous."

  There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eye, and his thumb on her thigh, which had been mercifully still all night, now began drawing slow circles, while his fingers slipped toward her inner thigh and squeezed. Rachel stiffened.

  "Was I that loud? I didn't realize…"

  His mouth was on her ear again, sending shivers coursing through her. "I'm in tune with you Rachel. I can hear your breathing, your chewing, and yes, your moaning. Relax. I'm not going to do anything to you with my boss right over there."

  His hand slipped almost imperceptibly up her skirt, and Rachel shifted slightly, trying to get him to stop moving upward, but Sam persisted. He leaned over to say something to Juan about fishing, and Rachel tried to look nonchalant, while Sam's fingers continued torturing her thighs. Heart pounding, she weakly took a sip of water.

  His hand suddenly stopped moving up her thigh, and grabbed her hand instead. Rachel felt a moment of relief, until he whispered in her ear, "Let's dance." Pulling her up, Sam led Rachel to the dance floor before she could respond, and pulled her close to him. Of course, it was a slow dance.

  They moved together in rhythm, and Rachel could feel the length of his body against hers. She rested her cheek on his hard chest, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne, feeling the coarse fabric of his uniform on her face, listening to his heart pounding in her ear. His arms tightened around her, and he was silent as they moved around the dance floor.

  "Tell me more about your mother," Rachel said, desperate to calm her insides. Hopefully, listening to him talk about his mother would suppress this insati
able desire he was stirring in her.

  "She died of cancer when I was twenty-two." His voice was soft in her ear, as if what he was saying was for her only. "She was an amazing woman. An awesome mother, a dedicated wife, she was funny, a good cook. She lived for her family." He stopped talking, and she looked up at him.

  He was looking down at her, and his eyes held a tenderness that took her breath away. "You remind me a lot of her, in some ways." He squeezed her against his body briefly, "And not so much in other ways." A wry grin spread across his face, making her giggle nervously.

  Okay, so talking about his mother hadn't worked. "She sounds nice." Rachel rested her cheek on his chest again, feeling content to just be held by Sam, and move.

  Rachel listened to his heartbeat and imagined a life with Sam. Going to sleep in his arms, taking the girls to the park together, his breakfasts every weekend. She sighed, apparently a little louder than she realized, because he chuckled. She could hear it deep in his chest and feel it as he shook with it. She decided not to question him about what was funny. She knew. He was getting to her, and he knew it.

  As the song ended, he spun her around gracefully, warm hand on her back sending tingles up her spine, before leading her back to the table. Envelopes were passed out to the winners of the silent auction items, and to Rachel's surprise, Sam received one. She hadn't seen him bid on anything. He accepted it graciously, putting it in the inside pocket of his jacket, before resuming his ministrations on her thigh.

  Others began to get up and leave, and Sam leaned over to Rachel, whispering in her ear. "I believe that's our cue, Sweetheart."

  Back in the jeep, Rachel could smell Sam everywhere. The spicy, masculine smell distracted her beyond reason. When his hand resumed its lazy circles on her thigh, she shifted.

  "Sam…" She looked over at him, but his face was unreadable, in the dark with just passing streetlights for illumination. "I really need to tell you something."

  "Okay. Tell me." His hand moved slowly up her thigh, and again, she stiffened, trying desperately to focus on what she had to say. Her literature was at the house, and everything she had read and said about this said to educate as well as inform. She wanted to wait until they got back to the house, but Sam's hand was moving farther up her skirt, and it felt so good…

  "I can't tell you here. We need to be back at the house." Her voice was breathless, as Sam drove on.

  "Okay." There was a smile in his voice that she couldn't see.

  His hand dipped up her skirt, tracing the outline of her panties, and Rachel gasped in surprise.

  "I've been curious about them."

  "What?" She breathed.

  "What kind of panties you wear." His voice was husky.

  "Oh…" His hand continued tracing the elastic of her panty line, staying on the outside. Nobody had touched Rachel like this since high school, and she had to admit to herself, the memories of Kyle's fumbling, hormone-driven hands on her, were nothing compared to Sam's.

  "I want you Rachel. I've wanted you since I first saw you singing to yourself in your car at the school. I didn't bring you out tonight and buy you a dress and all because I want to have sex with you. I mean, I do want to have sex with you, don't get me wrong. But that's not why I did all that. I'm not trying to pay for services rendered or anything, if that's what your reluctance is about." His voice was low and laden with desire.

  "I know, Sam. It's not that I don't want you, too. It's just that, there's something I need to let you know about me."

  “There's not a whole lot to know that would change the fact that you are a beautiful, smart, sexy woman, and I want you." They had made it to her driveway, and he was staring at her, intently.

  "Well, come inside, and let's talk. Okay?"

  He smiled, cryptically. "Before I forget…" He drew the envelope from the silent auction from his jacket pocket and handed it to Rachel. "This is for going with me to the Ball. I had the most beautiful date there."

  Rachel opened the envelope, and saw it was the spa gift certificate she'd thought she'd lost to Veronica.

  "Sam, you shouldn't have."

  "Why not? Everyone deserves a little pampering," he threw her words back at her. "Besides, this is a pretty upscale place, I'm sure I didn't pay what it's worth."

  "But you've already bought me this dress, and I…" She sputtered into silence, as his intent gaze unnerved her. Taking a deep breath, she finished awkwardly, "Come inside, and let's talk."

  "Yes ma'am."

  He followed her to the front door, and as soon as she had unlocked it, and led him inside, he wrapped his arms around her. Rachel tried to push away, but her attempts were feeble, at best. She knew what would happen as soon as they talked, and she wanted to enjoy him while he lasted. She surrendered to his grasp, then to his kiss.

  Sam slanted his mouth over hers, and she opened up for him, knowing in her heart that this kiss would probably be their last. That was her last coherent thought for a while. His tongue invaded her mouth, conquering it with thrusts and swirls around hers. His hands gripped her waist tightly, pulling her close to him. Rachel dug her hands in his hair, unwilling to let go, seeking his heated mouth to take her, make her forget.

  He groaned into her mouth, a low, throaty sound that made her knees weak. Sam's hands reached around and grabbed her rear, lifting her against his erection, and setting her atop a Bombay chest in her entry way. She whimpered, and Sam's mouth moved to her jaw, branding her with hot, wet kisses to her earlobe, before pulling it into his mouth and sucking. A shiver of delight shot through Rachel. She grabbed his shoulders, and leaned back, giving him access to more of her skin.

  She moaned as his mouth continued trailing kisses down her neck, while his hands slowly pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders, leaving kisses in their place, freeing her breasts. He kissed one, then the other, while his hands toyed with them alternately. Rachel had never felt anything close to the exquisite torture that Sam's mouth was putting her through, and she didn't want it to stop.

  One of his hands traveled slowly to her skirt, pulling it up around her hips, then reached down between her legs. A gasping moan escaped Rachel, and it was a foreign sound. His hand found her heated wetness, and she could feel him smile around her nipple in his mouth. She suddenly wanted him everywhere, against her, skin on skin.

  Against her will, her legs opened, and Sam stepped inside, before she wrapped them around his hips, squeezing, pressing against him to relieve some pressure. Sam's mouth traveled back up her neck to her mouth, as his fingers went to work on other parts of her body. One hand stayed on her breast, twisting the nipple into stiff points. The other hand stayed in her panties, and began circling the nub there, eliciting a shocked gasp. Alarms clanged dimly in her subconscious, as she tried to sit up, to stop him.

  "…Wait, Sam…" Her hands moved to push him back.

  "No."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Just feel it, Rachel." He whispered into her mouth. His voice was so seductive, she had no choice but to comply. His tongue continued its merciless assault on her mouth, and she was helpless to interact with it. She just reacted, while he made love to her body with his hands and mouth. The alarms continued to clang dimly, a warning sound, saying, "Danger. Danger."

  When he slipped a finger inside her heat, she moaned into his mouth, and Sam began to move a little faster. His thumb circled her clit, while the inserted finger danced in and out of her slickness. He groaned against her mouth, as he pushed his erection against her thigh, showing her how turned on he was.

  When he slipped the second finger inside of her, and curled them both up slightly, the thumb continuing its circular motions on her nub, Rachel convulsed against him as waves of exquisite pleasure rocked her body. Sam's mouth swallowed her guttural moans and gasps as she came around his fingers. The shock of the intense sensations reminded Rachel of what happens when hormones ruled.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, unbidden. What had she done? This had gone way further
than the simple hug and kiss she had intended to allow before they had their talk, and now, here he was, planning to pick her up and cart her off to a bed, to make wild dangerous love to her.

  "Sam…I…"

  He did it. Sam's arms slipped around her, and picked her up, starting down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom.

  "Sam…Stop, please." He must have heard the sudden panic in her voice, because he put her down, and held her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes with lust-glazed eyes of his own. She could smell the scent of herself on his fingers, and it brought fresh tears.

  "What is it, Baby?"

  "I-I can't do this…We really need to talk about something."

  "I don't want to talk." His mouth was on hers again, hot and wet, and almost completely irresistible.

  "Well, you need to cool down, because we have to talk before we have sex." Her voice had returned, and she was sort of thinking again. Rachel tried to lead him into the living room, where she had the literature all laid out and ready to go. He resisted.

  "Rachel, there's not anything that you can tell me that won't make me want to make love to you."

  "You say that now, but you don't know what I have to say."

  "Then say it, Rach." His lust-glazed eyes had cleared, and she took a deep breath.

  "It's not that easy for me." She couldn't find the words to say what she needed to. She knew she was losing him, and she wiped at the edges of her eyes, where tears had sprung.

  "Why are you crying?"

  "Because I've messed it up. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen." They were supposed to come inside, have a cup of coffee, discuss it like adults. He would be understanding, and kiss her, and then they would make slow sweet love. They weren't supposed to have a quickie on the chest in the foyer, then talk. He would be pissed now, and she didn't want to make him angry.

  "Did I push you too far, too fast? I'm sorry, I can't seem to control myself around you…" His lips were on her neck again.