by Rachel Lacey
“Ice on the power lines?” he asked.
“Or a tree may have fallen. Last winter, I lost power for almost three days.”
“That’s a long time.” He stood. “I wish I could say I was better prepared. The truth is, I’m sure there are candles and flashlights around here somewhere, but damn if I know where.”
“I saw a candle in the guest bath. I’ll go get it.” She stood and hurried down the hall, sliding her hands along the wall once she’d left the glow of the fireplace behind. She fumbled her way into the bathroom and felt around, her fingers eventually closing over the smooth, round surface of the candle.
She was halfway back to the living room when she collided with Sam’s warm, solid body. His hands settled on her shoulders to steady her. “Did you find it?” he asked, his voice so smooth and sexy in the darkness.
“Mm-hmm.” She was flush against him, absorbing the warmth of his body into hers. The scent of his cologne enveloped her, toying with her senses. She was alone in the dark with Sam Weiss, and it was hot. Feeling completely unlike herself, she leaned closer, tipping her face in what she imagined might be the direction of his.
“Carly.” His voice was lower now, raspy, and it scraped over all her sensitive spots.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out except a needy gasp. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, the sensation heightened by the darkness surrounding them. Her nipples hardened into aching peaks, her every breath seeming to bring her closer against him.
Kiss me. Please kiss me…
As if he’d read her mind, his lips brushed hers, and whoa. She might be able to light the whole downed power grid from the sparks ricocheting around inside her. His hands slid down to her waist, anchoring her more firmly against him. “Been wanting to do that,” he murmured against her lips.
“You have?”
“Since I met you this morning.” And then he kissed her again. Deeper this time. Harder. Her lips parted, and his tongue swept into her mouth. He tasted bold and spicy, like the wine they’d shared. His kiss was hot and sensual, needy but unhurried, and it ignited a powerful hunger inside her, burning her up from the inside out.
He let out a rough sound as his hands slid beneath her T-shirt, skimming her bare skin. The sweatpants he’d given her hung low on her hips. She’d rolled the waistband to keep them up, leaving a lot of bare skin, and Sam’s fingers scraped across every exposed inch. His hands slid up her back, branding her skin with heat everywhere he touched, and she was so turned on, it was all she could do not to climb him like a cat on a Christmas tree.
“So fuckin’ sexy,” he whispered.
She tried to speak, but her hands were on his ass, his very firm, tight ass, and…“Wow.”
He lifted his head, smiling wickedly. “My thoughts exactly. You are full of surprises, Carly.”
“Am I?” She almost laughed at the absurdity, but well…she was surprising herself tonight.
“Come on. Let’s eat before our food gets cold.” His hand slid into hers and led her back into the living room.
Sam was full of surprises, too. Here they were, isolated from the world, yet he’d been the one to slow things down just now. Not the shameless womanizer the media portrayed. This version might be even more dangerous, for her at least, because she liked him. A lot. But they didn’t know each other. Not really.
He lifted the candle from her hands. A match flared, and the candle flickered to life. He set it in the middle of the table. “Fine dining by candlelight.”
“Yeah.” The flickering candle, the fireplace crackling behind them, it was awfully romantic. And her lips still tingled from his kisses.
“Back to that little game we were playing earlier. I think it’s my turn.” He took a bite of meatloaf and chewed, his eyes never wavering from hers. “What do you do for fun when you’re not at the bakery?”
She scrunched her nose. “I read a lot. Listen to music. Bake. Boring, right?”
He pointed his fork in her direction. “Nothing about you is boring. Your turn.”
“Same question. What do you do for fun when you’re not making music?” She bit into the meatloaf, and O-M-G it was amazing. She had to restrain herself to keep from diving into it in a very unladylike manner.
“Don’t get as much free time as I’d like, but when I get the chance, I go surfing. Always loved the ocean. Who am I keeping you from tonight, Carly? Family? Roommates?”
A boyfriend? His unasked question hung in the air between them. “No one. I live alone.”
“Two solitary people stranded together.” His dark eyes glittered in the candlelight. “This could get interesting.”
Chapter Three
Sam leaned back on the couch, wineglass in hand. Carly had curled herself in the big chair by the fireplace. Already the house had begun to cool, but overall they were in good shape. After they ate, he’d called his manager, who’d called the property management company that owned the cabin and found out there was a backup generator outside that would power the pump to the well so that they had running water.
They had plenty of dry firewood, and he and Carly had gathered a table full of flashlights, candles, batteries, and matches after rummaging through the house. He also had a portable charger that should keep their cell phones going for at least a day or two.
He reached for the battered notepad on the coffee table. Just watching Carly filled his mind with all kinds of snippets of lyrics. Before he knew it, he’d filled four pages with hastily scrawled words. When he glanced up, she was watching, silhouetted by the fireplace, and he didn’t know whether to try to capture her beauty in his notebook or kiss her again.
The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. Its light danced over Carly’s features, making her eyes sparkle and her lips glisten. Shadows leaped across her face.
Shadow dancer, he wrote.
He set his notepad on the table and looked at her. “I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time to bust into some of those boxes you brought.”
She smiled. “We could eat ourselves into a sugar coma by the time we get rescued.”
“I’m down with that plan.” He stood, picked up the lit candle, and led the way into the kitchen. Inside the pantry, white bakery boxes were piled high. “Where do we start?”
She stepped closer to peek over his shoulder. “What do you like?”
He turned his head. “You.”
Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath. “I meant…”
He leaned in so that his lips hovered over hers. “I know what you meant. Surprise me.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She slipped past him and surveyed the boxes, finally selecting a medium-sized one on a shelf near the floor. “Close your eyes.”
With a grin, he obeyed. “I like the way you think.”
“Open your mouth.”
He did, feeling arousal tighten in his groin as he waited for her next move. Her fingers brushed his lips, and something sticky and sweet settled on his tongue. He closed his mouth and chewed. Thick, syrupy sweetness and something nutty and crunchy. Whatever it was, it was as delicious as the woman standing in front of him. He opened his eyes. “It’s like a bite of pecan pie, but better.”
She smiled. “A pecan tart.”
“My turn,” he said, waiting until she’d closed her eyes. “Let’s see how well you know your stuff, Miss Bakery Owner.”
“Oh, I know my stuff.”
He held in a groan. Damn, she was sexy, and she was turning him on big time right now. Yeah, he’d kissed her in the hallway earlier, but she was too sweet for a guy like him. Too innocent. He’d had his share of women throw themselves at him, more than his fair share. He knew what cheap, meaningless sex felt like.
Carly wasn’t cheap, and absolutely nothing about her was meaningless.
He went into the pantry and grabbed the first box he saw—cupcakes. He lifted the top and swiped his index finger through the thick, white frosting. Then he brought it to her
lips. She let out a sexy sound that sent a bolt of white-hot lust straight to his dick. She licked frosting off his finger, and he went hard.
“Caramel macchiato,” she whispered, opening her eyes.
He picked up the box, squinting to read the label in the dim light. “You got it.”
“Made it myself this morning.” She motioned for him to close his eyes.
He did, but in the darkness behind his eyelids, he was fantasizing about Carly, her tongue swirling over his finger as she licked the frosting. Her tongue headed lower, on his—
“Ready?” Her voice was closer than he’d expected, really close.
He opened his mouth, every cell in his body focused on her. She placed something rich and chocolaty in his mouth, and for a moment, he felt the warmth of her body brush against his. “Brownie.”
“You’re good. Black forest brownie,” she said.
He went back into the pantry, this time selecting some kind of little ball that looked to be dusted in coconut flakes. He held it to her lips so she could take a bite.
“Carrot cake bite,” she said.
He checked the label. “Okay, you do know your stuff.”
“In the kitchen, yes.”
He caught a hint of insecurity in her voice. “And outside it.”
She walked back into the pantry.
He closed his eyes, waiting. And waiting. Finally, he felt her finger brush against his lips. Something sweet exploded against his tongue. He licked cream from her finger, and the aching hunger inside him intensified. “I don’t know what that is, but I like it.”
“It’s the cream filling to my sinfully sweet cupcake.”
She probably had no clue how dirty that had just sounded to him. He opened his eyes, staring into hers. “I love your sinfully sweet filling.”
She shivered, from the temperature or the sexual charge in the room, he wasn’t sure. It was actually pretty cold in the kitchen now. The whole house would be cold as a tomb soon, all but the living room as long as they kept the fire going.
“Grab something and bring it back to the living room, where it’s warmer,” he said.
She nodded and went into the pantry, coming back with a box of cookies. “Chocolate chip.”
“My favorite.”
“I thought you loved my cream filling,” she said with wide, innocent eyes.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Damn, Cupcake. I have no idea when you’re messing with me.”
She let out a quiet laugh. “Me either. I don’t usually flirt with rock stars.”
“Could have fooled me. But I’m not a rock star tonight. I’m just me, and you’re you, and I’m having the best damn time I’ve had in years.”
She was quiet as they walked into the living room. He grabbed their wineglasses off the coffee table and handed hers to her.
“This is all kind of surreal.” She sipped her wine and watched him.
“You could say that.”
“But I like it.” She stepped closer, tipping her face to his.
“Me, too. I like pretty much everything about you.” As he watched, she licked her lips.
“You don’t even know me,” she whispered.
“I think I do.” He took her hand, set their wineglasses on the table, and drew her up against him. Her long legs allowed her body to fit against his just right. “You’re as sweet as your cupcakes. You tend to keep to yourself, but once life forces you outside your comfort zone, you roll with it. And right now, you’re surprising yourself with the things you’re feeling because we just met, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one thinking about getting naked together tonight.”
She stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, and then she kissed him. She tasted sweet, like all the sinfully delicious things they’d sampled together, but there was nothing sweet about the hunger flaring inside him. He wanted to devour her, then come back for seconds.
“You’re right,” she said. “You do know me. Right now, you might know me better than I know myself because I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Kissing,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re kissing me.”
* * *
Carly felt like she was about to melt. Or combust. Or both. Sam kissed her until her bones had liquefied and her body was on fire. He was tall, so tall. He had to be over six feet because she was five foot ten and Sam had to dip his head to kiss her. She liked that, really liked that. It was awkward when she was taller than the man she was with.
He held her close and kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. His hands slid beneath the oversized T-shirt, pushing aside her bra to palm her breasts. His thumb scraped across her nipple, sending a bolt of fiery need straight to her core. Regular Carly would never consider sleeping with him. She’d only met him that morning, and most of the things she knew about him, she’d learned from celebrity gossip sites. A lot of it wasn’t flattering, but none of it matched the man she’d met today.
They only had tonight. Tomorrow, the ice would melt. She’d go back to her real life, and he’d return to his. And she’d always regret it if she didn’t take this opportunity. What had he said earlier, that when life pushed her outside her comfort zone, she rolled with it? Yeah. She was rolling with it tonight.
She slipped her hands inside his shirt and ran them over his chest. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, and oh, there were a lot of muscles. She let her fingers trail down to the waistband of his jeans. Sam made a breathless sound that vibrated through her fingertips. His grip on her butt tightened.
“You sure about this, Carly?” His voice had gone all low and scratchy, and holy hell, so sexy. “Because I don’t want to do anything you’re going to regret in the morning.”
“I’m sure.” She looked up and met his eyes. “I’ve never felt like this before, Sam. I can’t even think straight, I want you so much.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than he crushed her against him, kissing her like crazy. They fell to the floor on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, their bodies a tangle of arms and legs. She tugged at his T-shirt, and he yanked it over his head.
She touched his left arm, admiring the tattoos that ran from his shoulder to his wrist. She hadn’t really had an opinion on tattoos until this moment, but Sam’s inked skin was about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Well, that and the gorgeous sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle with a smattering of chest hair leading down to the waistband of his jeans, strained in the front with a most impressive bulge.
Sam lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it onto the rug beside them. Her bra followed. He kissed along her neck and over her chest until she was about to lose her mind.
She moved closer, letting her knees slide down on either side of his hips. That bulge in his jeans pressed right where she needed it, and oh, it felt good. She rocked her hips against him, drawing a rumble of approval from Sam. He gripped her butt, urging her on, creating a delicious friction between their bodies.
“More,” she whispered.
He reached between them, sliding his hand inside her pants. His fingers skimmed over her skin, dipping inside her panties, and she whimpered. He stroked her with one hand while the other kept gripping her butt, moving her against him, allowing her to shamelessly use him for her pleasure.
Heat built inside her, tightening low in her belly, making her pant and squirm as she ground her hips against his. He pushed two fingers inside her, and just like that, she shattered.
“Whoa,” she whispered once she’d caught her breath. She opened her eyes to find Sam watching her, his blue eyes hooded, scorching her with his gaze.
“That was fucking intense,” he said, then pulled her in for another kiss.
His erection still strained against her, and now it was her turn to touch. She reached for the front of his jeans, running her palm over his hard length. He felt like steel beneath her fingers. She undid the button and pushed down his zipper, freeing him. He lifted his hips and scrambled out of his jeans. Now he wore onl
y a pair of black boxer briefs, and holy hell, he was the image of perfection. All that tanned, toned skin. Every inch of him was hard.
She slid her hands over his chest, reveling in the feel of his hot skin beneath her fingertips. When she reached his boxers, he sucked in a breath. She gripped him through the thin fabric. Desire blazed again inside her.
Sam tugged her pants down her legs, and she kicked them off. Then they were entwined again, kissing, touching. His cock pressed against her, teasing her through that thin layer of cotton. She pushed down his boxers and took him in her hand, stroking him slowly from base to tip. He groaned, thrusting himself against her.
“So good,” he whispered, his voice strained.
She cupped his balls, and his cock jumped in her hand. He swore roughly. So sexy. Her body burned for him. She hooked her leg around his hips, bringing herself against him, his cock pressed against her core, separated only by the thin, silky material of her panties. Sam let out a rough sound, clutching her closer.
She pressed her hips against him, and the sensation was almost enough to make her come again. “Now.”
“Yes,” he whispered against her neck. He slid her panties to the floor, and they rolled together, skin to skin. Finally. Her body clenched in anticipation. Then he sat up, a strained look on his face. “Protection.”
Crap. She hoped he had some because she sure as hell didn’t.
“I’ll be right back.” He kissed her again, then stood and headed for the stairs. She lay there on the rug in front of the fire, admiring the fine sight of his bare ass as he climbed the stairs and hoping like crazy he’d come back with a condom in his hand.
Chapter Four
Sam cursed a blue streak as he pawed through the contents of his bedside table. He was almost positive he’d brought condoms with him to the mountains—not that he’d been planning to get laid, but just in case. But they weren’t here.
Wait. His suitcase.
He hurried into the closet, wishing like hell he’d remembered to bring a flashlight upstairs with him, but he’d been thinking with his dick, and his dick was screaming at him to hurry. Now he was freezing his ass off up here in the dark, feeling his way around the closet for the suitcase. Finally, his hands encountered its smooth, leather surface. He went straight for the inside pouch, where his fingers closed over a small cardboard box. Halla-fuckin-lujah.
