by Ophelia Bell
He rewards me with an unamused chuckle. “It was pure torture being trapped here not knowing when you’d make it out, or if you ever would. I haven’t slept or eaten since Chris dropped me off this morning. I did manage a quick shower to rinse off my back, but that’s it.”
“Sam,” I admonish, “you need to eat. Can we order room service here?”
“I think so. I haven’t tried. There’s a full kitchen with a stocked pantry too, but I haven’t had the focus to think about cooking.”
I crane my neck to scan the kitchen, then rise and flip on a light. Its polished hardwood counters are so inviting that the idea of cooking for Sam distracts me from my other worries. I open the fridge and examine the contents, then the cabinets. My stomach rumbles, urging on the plan that’s forming.
I grab a handful of ingredients, and within a few minutes I have fresh chicken grilling in a pan amid peppers and onions, then start on grating cheese.
Sam wanders over and joins me, taking the avocados without comment and slicing them open, scooping the lovely green fruit into a bowl and crushing it with a fork. He adds salt and pepper, cilantro, and a little bit of onion, then holds a spoon up for me to taste.
“Perfect,” I say. “You’re good at this.”
“We make a good team.” He holds my gaze, and I think he’s going to say more, but he just swallows and turns away.
I grab his wrist and make him face me again. “Sam, I love you,” I blurt, startling myself as much as him.
He blinks at me and his lips part, but he doesn’t respond. I think I’ve broken him, so I charge onward. “It’s crazy, I know, but being with you is the only time I ever feel calm anymore. Like my entire world is off balance all the time, except in the moments when you are beside me. This . . .” I wave my hand at our kitchen mess. “. . . is just confirmation of how well we work together, and after the last few days, I know it can be more than just professional. I want it to be more.”
He stares at me, his face shifting from one indecipherable emotion to the next. Finally he swallows again, his eyes glassy. “Do you mean that?” he says, his voice low and gruff. “Because I don’t think I can take it if we get home and you change your mind.”
“Every word. And what’s to stop you from changing your mind when we get home? You’re still young enough to find someone your age . . .”
He drops the spoon he’s been holding all this time and laughs, shaking his head as he gives me a bewildered look. “God, Toni. Haven’t you figured out by now that I’m fucking wrecked over you? I’ve loved you my entire life. I’m not going to stop now. I’m never going to stop loving you.”
It’s my turn to stare like an idiot. “All this time?”
He nods slowly as he closes the distance, forcing me to crane my neck to keep looking at him. He can’t be serious, but why would he lie?
He takes my face in both hands, gazing deep into my eyes. “Ever since I knew you existed in the world. I saw you in a video interview one day and knew there could be no other woman for me. Getting to know you, becoming your friend—all these past three years have done is make me more sure that eleven year old kid with a crush knew what he wanted. I still know all I want is you.”
I start to laugh even as hot tears prick my eyes. “Then I guess we’re both crazy, aren’t we?”
“Crazy in love,” he says. Then he kisses me, and having his lips on mine is the sweetest feeling in the world.
The kiss only lasts a moment before the scent of burning food hits us both. I turn with a curse and cut the heat on the stove, then hurriedly remove the chicken and veggies onto a plate. The stove is equipped with a griddle, so we leave the pan in the sink and use the griddle to finish cooking.
By the time the plate loaded with piping hot, gooey quesadillas is on the table, we care about little but devouring our creation. Sam finds a pair of cold beers in the fridge and pops the caps, then joins me.
I indulge in touching him every second I get, needing the contact to reassure myself he’s really here. That I’m here. I don’t even care that our ordeal isn’t quite over. In this safe little house behind a locked gate no one else can open, I let myself forget that there’s anyone else in the world besides the two of us.
When we finish eating, I gravitate onto his lap and just sit, letting him hold me like a child.
“You’re like a lamprey,” he chuckles after finishing his beer.
“I missed you,” I say, as if that’s enough of an excuse for the fact I feel like I might wither and die if I lose contact with him for too long.
“I’m not complaining. The last few hours were torture, if I’m being honest. I’m happy to just hold you forever.”
I lay my head on his shoulder and sigh, and after a moment realize I’m on the verge of drifting off.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs, then stands and hoists me into his arms.
He carries me up the narrow spiral staircase and into a loft bedroom overlooking the water. There’s a fireplace up here too, which he turns on, then moves to the window. He still has me carefully cradled against him, which becomes somewhat comical when he fumbles for the window crank while trying to maintain his grip on me, so I take over and open it for him so we can hear the sea.
When he turns to the bed, I press my palm against the middle of his chest before he can put me down. “Take me into the bathroom first. Not sure how you managed to get our bags, but now that I know they’re here, I want a shower. I want to get rid of these clothes and into my own things.”
The bathroom has the same view as the bedroom, overlooking the Gulf of Mexico from beneath the thatched eave of the roof. Faintly glowing lights illuminate paths that twine around through the gardens surrounding this resort. The bathroom is equipped with a huge tub set in a tiled platform with a glassed-in shower beside it. A large, hand-carved armoire takes up one corner, but a different shelf holds towels, so I can’t imagine what that armoire is for. The tub and shower are both covered in hand-painted Mallorca tiles, similar to the dishes we ate off of. Sam finally sets me down on the cool tile and starts to turn back toward the door.
“I’ll let you have some privacy.”
“The hell you will,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him back. “I’m not letting you out of my sight again. Ever.”
His eyes flash when he looks down into my face. “Be careful what you wish for, Valentine.”
The implication of my demand hits me a little late and heat rushes through my body. I’m alone with him again, and this time we aren’t playing. It isn’t just a fun night away from home that we can pretend never happened when we get back to work.
This is the beginning of the journey I hoped to embark on last night, which now feels like eons ago. But it means so much more now than it would have then.
Tonight it means everything.
33
Sam
Toni’s breath hitches as she reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it up my sides. The fabric clings to my tattoo, pulling at my skin, and I wince. She slows down and gently tugs the fabric away from my back, then carefully peels it off. When my shirt is gone, her gaze drifts down to the faded body paint that covers half my chest. She lifts a finger and traces a line of the design, her tongue darting out to wet her lower lip.
Ever since her confession, I’ve felt like I’m floating in a dream. Wanting her has been so all-encompassing for so long, the thought of finally having her—all of her—consumes all my attention.
When she tosses my shirt aside, I take over, pulling off her sweater and sliding my hands around her back to unhook her bra. She exhales sharply when I drop down and unfasten her pants, tugging them as gently as I can, though the need to get her naked is as urgent as the need to breathe.
Once her clothes are gone, I take a moment to look her over, to make sure there’s no evidence of harm.
“Everything to your liking?” she asks, one eyebrow lifted.
“Just want to make sure you’re not hurt.” I stan
d, then reach into the shower to turn on the water.
“I’m perfect now that I’m with you,” she says. “You made me whole again, Sam. Anything else is superficial right now.”
She closes the distance between us and reaches both hands up to comb them through my hair.
“Fuck, I want you so much,” I grate out as I haul her into my arms again. She comes eagerly, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist. I find her mouth with mine and groan into the kiss, gratified to hear a similar sound rising from her throat. Her nails dig into my scalp and her legs tighten around me.
I blindly push the shower door open and climb in, realizing too late that I’m still in my jeans. But she’s naked, and that’s all that matters.
We move under the stream of water and she exhales a moan, leaning back to let the water cascade over her ink-adorned chest. I grip her by the waist, mesmerized by the flex of her tattooed belly and the rise and fall of her breasts as her shoulders rest against the thick glass wall behind her.
Impulsively I bend over and take one dark nipple into my mouth. She cries out and clings harder to my neck, arching closer. I switch to the other breast, relishing every spike of awareness of where our bodies are in contact. Her soft core rubs at my belly, and I feel like such an idiot for not taking off my pants.
Still supporting her with one arm, I move my other hand between her thighs. Eyes locked to hers, I slip my fingers between her folds and stroke through the slick heat. Watching her fevered gaze, I’m suddenly consumed by the need to make her come. I find the swollen ridge of her clit and rub with my thumb while I sink two fingers into her juicy channel.
She immediately clenches around me and gasps. “Ah! Yes. Don’t stop!”
Every ounce of my focus is homed in on her pleasure and I drop my mouth to her breasts again, sucking each nipple hard as I tease and rub between her thighs. She begins to writhe and buck, clinging with both hands to my neck and shoulders until she lets out a gasping moan and her body shudders, the muscles of her core spasming around my fingers and her tiny clit pulsing beneath my thumb. She pulls herself up and plants her mouth hard against mine, tongue delving deep, and I’m forced to grab her ass with both hands now to keep my balance.
Kissing her feels like sustenance. Like I could have done just this when she arrived and never needed food. All I have ever wanted is her.
Breathless, she relaxes her legs and drops her feet to the floor. “Let’s get you out of these,” she says, wrestling with the button on my soaked jeans then slowly peeling the wet denim down my thighs. It’s not an easy task, but she finally gets them off and shoves them to the corner of the shower, then pulls my boxer briefs down.
My cock is so hard and hot the water feels cold, but it lasts only a second before her mouth descends. I let out a curse and flatten both palms against the glass enclosure to maintain my balance as her tongue and lips threaten to destroy every ounce of sanity I have left.
“Toni. Jesus.”
I’m unprepared for the sudden surge of pleasure, and it takes her no more than three strokes before I’m shooting into her mouth.
She licks her lips when she releases me and peers up my body. I’m barely able to hold myself upright, but when she stands and presses herself against me, I wrap my arms around her and forget everything else.
“That was unexpected,” I murmur. “I promise I can last longer than ten seconds.”
She chuckles against my shoulder. “I know you can. So can I. This is just . . . easing stress. Something I think we both needed.”
I lean back and look down at her with eyebrows lifted. “You mean you don’t normally come in two minutes flat? I thought I was just that good.”
She shrugs. “I mean, you are, but I was especially primed.” She leans up and gives me a peck on the lips, then says, “Turn around and let me take a look at your back.”
I obediently spin, then feel the water shift as she aims the spray at the tops of my shoulders just above the top of the tattoo. The scent of the anti-bacterial soap the staff sent over earlier hits my nose, and she slides her hands in gentle circles over the design. It’s sore, but her touch feels amazing anyway.
“It’s healing fine. You shouldn’t wear a shirt if you can go without, though.”
When she stops rinsing my back, I turn and quirk a smile at her. “That’s as good a reason as any for us to stay naked until we’re rescued. You know this is a clothing-optional resort. We can pretend we’re moored on a desert island like in Blue Lagoon.”
“Are you sure you’re twenty-two?” she asks, giving me a bemused look.
“The only movie channel I can afford at home just shows stuff from the 80s,” I say. “That one was hot, though. First love.”
Her expression turns thoughtful, and a little worried as she looks up into my eyes. Before she can voice the warning I believe is on the tip of her tongue, I say, “I know what we have is different. You loved someone before me. I’m fine with that. Manny’s memory isn’t going away, and I don’t expect you to forget him. Especially not after this weekend.”
“Sam, stop.” She turns and cranks the knob to shut off the water, then heaves a breath as she faces me again. “I meant it when I said I love you. I don’t need to qualify it, either. But I also don’t want you to think that I’m thinking about him every time we make love, because I’m not. I haven’t thought about him most of the weekend. Not until I came face to face with Delgado this morning. I want that bastard to pay for what he did, for what he took from me. But I am also fully aware that Manny is gone, and he isn’t coming back. When we’re together, I’m completely consumed by you, and you need to know that this is a feeling I’ve never felt before.”
She grabs hold of my face and shakes my head a little. “Do you hear me? Never. I have never wanted someone the way I want you, and it isn’t because of the ordeal we just went through. I’d already realized this last night before I was taken, or I wouldn’t have offered . . .” She pauses and her cheeks turn pink.
“To make love with me,” I finish.
“Right,” she says, sighing, then turning to the door. She reaches toward the shelf just outside for a towel and hands me one before grabbing one for herself. She urges me to turn again, then gently blots my back dry before drying herself off.
I follow her towel-wrapped form out of the bathroom, where she fishes into her suitcase for a toiletry bag, grabs a comb, and then settles herself on the end of the bed in front of the fireplace, using another towel to dry her hair.
“You still want that, right?” I venture, leaning against the jutting wooden mantel and looking down at her, heart in my throat. Despite giving each other amazing climaxes mere minutes ago, I want more, and my dick is already tentatively rousing with hope for a second round.
“Did you finish your mission for condoms before they took you?” she asks, staring into the fireplace as she pulls the comb through her hair. “Because I kind of assumed we were out of luck locked in the way we are, and I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to order rubbers from room service.”
I smirk. “I’ve got it covered.”
She pauses with the comb clutched in one hand, her gaze shifting from the flames in the fireplace back to me. She licks her lips as her eyes track the length of my body from head to toe and back up, each sweep making more blood flow south. Then she stands and I reflexively straighten, my entire body on alert as she steps toward me.
When she reaches me, she tugs at the top of her towel and lets it fall to the floor, then hooks her fingers in the top of mine. The damp terrycloth slides down my legs, landing in a heap at my feet, but she’s already pressed flush against me, so I don’t have time to feel exposed.
She slides her arms around my neck, leaning up to press her mouth to mine. I bend enough to meet her, holding her tight as we kiss. It’s just our naked bodies, the heat between us stoked high enough to rival that of the fireplace.
My stiff cock is sandwiched between our bellies, and the
shift of her body sends jolts of pure pleasure through me. I slide a hand up to palm her breast, gratified by her moan when I thumb her nipple. That sound is enough to spur me on and I lift her up, arms slung beneath her backside. She’s eye-level with me now, fingers threaded through my wet hair, her hazel eyes bright with anticipation, with desire, and with something else that makes me silently praise every last god that ever existed.
I walk us to the bed and climb on, laying her against the pillows, then hovering over her. She slides her thighs along my hips and lifts her pelvis, grazing the underside of my cock with her wetness. I can’t hold back a gasp, and it’s tempting as hell to just sheath myself inside her now. But we can’t be stupid. I’m doing this right.
I dip my head and kiss her again, slowly and carefully, putting every last drop of my love for her into it before moving down her body to kiss my way across her breasts and her belly. Teasing my tongue down the inked path to her navel, I push her legs wide so I can taste her. Her clit’s a swollen little thing again, and she tastes like heaven when her juices start to flow.
I work her into a writhing frenzy with my tongue before rising onto my knees and reaching for the candy dish beside the bed. She turns her head, and her eyes go wide when I lift the lid and grab a condom.
“Perks of going all-inclusive,” I say, ripping open the condom and rolling it down my erection.
She’s grinning deviously when I finally press my tip to her entrance, but her smile disappears on a moan when I push into her. Then we’re both lost. The tight friction of her core wraps around me so perfectly. I want to fuck hard and fast, but at the same time I desperately want this to last. I want to savor every second of this first time, a moment I’ve fantasized about for more than a decade.
Toni reaches up to touch my face. “Sam. Look at me, honey.”
That’s when I realize I’ve got my eyes clenched shut and am hyperfocused on the act of fucking her. I obey, and when I open my eyes to gaze down at her face, the whole world snaps into focus.
