Seducing Sam

by Verdenius, Angela

  That produced another kind of tingle that was just a little, well, perverted. Delightedly appalled, she could only reply rather stupidly, “Really?” At his sudden grin, she hastily amended, “Sam, stop it. This is serious.”

  “I am serious.” Shockingly, he raised his hand and delivered a light slap to her bottom.

  It didn’t hurt, it barely made contact, but nevertheless she jumped. “Sam!”

  His head dipped lower, his gaze locked on hers. “Honey, you have no idea what I’m capable of in regards to you.”

  This was that side of Sam that had appeared when they’d made love - had sex. A little dangerous, a lot tantalizing, a bit threatening, and barely leashed. It was as though inside lurked a darker, more sensual Sam.

  Shit, inside did lurk a darker, more sensual Sam. She’d already had a taste of that side. She yearned for more, no doubting that, not when the tingle deep inside her turned a little hotter, however much she tried to control it.

  “I can do a whole lot more, Carly.” His tone was low, darkly silky. “And I want to do it with you.”

  “I don’t see why.” She tried to remain calm, but the tremble in her voice was a dead giveaway. She knew it by the way his eyes darkened.

  Pushing away from the car bonnet, Sam turned fully, both arms sliding around her to pull her flush against him, one hand at her waist, the other still curved over her bottom. The position had her arching slightly into him as she looked up.

  Surrounded by his heat and strength, his height and breadth of shoulders and chest making her feel so much smaller and protected, she couldn’t stop herself from pressing closer, seeking his touch even as part of her told her she should back away before it was too late.

  “I want a woman who will still care about me when I’m old and grey. I don’t want a woman who wants me only while I’m young and handsome enough to satisfy her vanity. Youth and good looks don’t last.” Sam leaned down, his gaze sliding across her face, lingering on her lips before moving back to look into her eyes. “I want someone to laugh with, to share the good times and the bad, to be there for each other. To support and love and grow old with. To still see each other as the most important person in the world when looks and youth have long gone.”

  His words made her heart melt.

  “I think you’re that woman.”

  Shocked, she could only stare up at him.

  “Carly, go out with me. Let’s get to know each other better.” Sam lowered his head further. “Please.”

  “Sam.” Closing her eyes, she drew a shuddering breath. Oh God, she wanted to, she really did, but two things stopped her, two things that had her warning bells ringing.

  “Talk to me, honey. Tell me what troubles you.” His voice was almost hypnotic, twining through her senses, a threat to her common sense.

  “Those women…”

  “They don’t mean anything.”

  “Sam, you’ve probably had beautiful women trying to seduce you ever since you hit your teens. Maybe before, as sick as that sounds. There’s no way I can compete with that.”

  “Look at me.”

  Lifting her lashes, she met his gaze. It was still hot, but there was quiet confidence there as well.

  “They try to seduce me with their bodies, but they don’t succeed. They’ll never succeed. But you, Carly, you’re slowly seducing me without you even realising it.”

  “I never tried to seduce you.”

  “I know, and that’s seductive in itself.”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m sure there are a lot of women out there who never tried to seduce you.”

  “And yet, you’re the one I’m falling for.”

  That was scary. And titillating. And downright frightening.

  “Tell me what else,” he said.

  “What?”

  “What else is holding you back?”

  Unable to meet his knowing gaze, her head tilted forward until she stared at his chest which was on eye-level, those mouth-watering pecs behind that slightly crumpled, white shirt. “What makes you think there’s something else?”

  “Because I can feel it.”

  “You don’t know me well enough for that.”

  “Tell me about the man who hurt you so much, who tore down your confidence.”

  She stiffened. “Who said anything about my confidence?”

  “Honey, I’m not a fool. I’m a good judge of people. You dress confidently, you dress brightly, you dress to suit yourself. Your attitude when I first met you. You had a load of confidence then, but whenever anything intimate starts to happen, you close up. I feel it, I see it.” He paused. “Tell me about your ex.”

  Chapter 7

  Immediately, she tried to pull away. “No.”

  “Tell me.” His tone brooked no argument, his arms ungiving.

  Unless she struggled fiercely, she wasn’t going anywhere, so she held herself as stiffly as possible, refusing to meet his gaze.

  His next movement surprised her. In a hold as gentle as it was strong, Sam gathered her right into him, cradling her head in one hand, snuggling her cheek against his hard chest, his other hand pressing her against him until her belly was snugged against his hips. Not knowing what to do, unaccustomed to being held almost lovingly, she stayed stiff.

  Slowly, he began to stroke her hair with long, gentle sweeps of his hand. It was blissful, and against her better judgement she closed her eyes.

  Just for a minute, just for a little teeny, tiny minute. She almost groaned when he started to massage the back of her neck, his fingers working slowly but surely, steadily, and before she even realised she was doing it, she relaxed, melting against him.

  Now she knew how SJ felt when Sam stroked and massaged behind his ears. If she was a cat, she’d be purring her little heart out.

  But still… “Sam, I can’t do this.”

  He just continued to stroke in silence.

  “I can’t…”

  Stroke.

  “I do have confidence.”

  Stroke.

  “I just…”

  Strong fingers massaged behind her ears and she sighed blissfully.

  “This is really unfair of you,” she whispered.

  Did he just kiss the top of her head?

  Dreamily, she reached up to rest one hand on his upper arm that was wrapped around her waist. His hand flexed gently against her spine, making the muscles beneath her palm pull and bunch a little at the movement.

  Silently he continued to stroke her hair, his peaceful patience trickling through her, lulling her as nothing had ever done in her life. Closing her eyes, she rested against him, enjoying the feel of him against her, around her, soothing her.

  So relaxed that when he whispered, “What was his name?” she automatically whispered back, “Jonathon.”

  “Were you together long?”

  “No.”

  His fingers moved up each side of her neck, squeezing and rubbing gently.

  “A couple of months.”

  “Was he good to you?”

  “At first. Wined me, dined me, made me feel good.” Not beautiful, she realised suddenly. Just good.

  Not beautiful like Sam made her feel. He had a gift for making people feel special.

  “What happened?”

  She didn’t like to think about it.

  “Tell me.” His hand lifted, massaging the base of her skull, slipping beneath her hairline.

  She almost groaned in pleasure.

  “Tell me, honey.” He nuzzled her hair.

  Drifting in a haze of relaxation, she murmured, “I found out he was seeing other women behind my back.”

  “Was he?” His voice rumbled soothingly in his chest, reverberating pleasantly in her ear. “Stupid man.”

  She smiled. “You’d never do that, Sam.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” He rubbed his chin, or cheek, on the top of her head. She didn’t know which and didn’t really care. “How did you find out?”

  “Ed tried to warn me,
but I wouldn’t listen. I was so sure Jonathon cared about me. Gave me gifts, showered me with flowers. But…”

  “Mmm?” He smoothed his hand down her spine and up again, fingers pressing each side until his hand returned to her nape and again started massaging. “But?”

  She snuggled a little closer, and he responded by somehow seeming to curve around her protectively. “I went around to his house to give him his birthday present. He didn’t answer but I could hear voices. I went around to the back, thinking he was there. He wasn’t, but the back door was unlocked so I went inside and called out.” Just the memory had her tensing.

  “Easy, honey.” Sam shushed her gently, resumed stroking her hair. “Easy.”

  When he didn’t ask anything more, she relaxed again, soothed by his quiet acceptance.

  Yet for some reason, now she wanted to tell him. Now that she’d brought those painful memories to the surface, she found them not as distressing as simply…distasteful. Hurtful, true, but without the sting they had previously.

  Now she just wanted Sam to know, wanted to get it out into the open.

  Especially while she was sheltered in his arms.

  Opening her eyes, she looked out towards the blue waters of the ocean glittering beneath the sun.

  Even now the memory made hr insides almost curdle with shame. “He came out into the kitchen, half dressed. Started yelling at me, and then right behind him were two women wearing only suspenders, stockings and stilettos. They took one look at me and started to make excuses, gathering up their things.”

  Sam’s lips brushed the top of her head, his hand on her bottom flexed slightly.

  “Jonathon just laughed. He started mocking me, told me he needed a woman with a real body to please a man, not a fat tart. I was just a way to pass the time. An amusement. He said that I should have known that no man would really take a woman like me seriously, not for anything more than a sexual experiment, and I’d failed even that.” Carly swallowed. “He had to hire prostitutes to really satisfy him, to have sex with a nice body. He said a fatty just wasn’t doing it for him. I found out he was seeing other women as well. One of them was a friend of mine.”

  When Sam’s fingers in her hair flexed, she smoothed her hand down his arm in a gesture of comfort. “It’s all right, Sam. I’m all right. I took tests to ensure I was clean. Knowing he cheated, I couldn’t risk it.” The memory made her shiver. “I didn’t know if I’d caught an STD, but thank God all the tests came back clear.”

  “He wasn’t worthy of you, Carly.” In a sudden, fierce motion, Sam hugged her tight. “The stupid bastard was blind not to see your worth, but his loss is my gain.”

  “It’s over now.”

  “Is it?” Lifting his hands, he cupped her cheeks to tilt her head back. Fury burned in the hazel depths of his eyes. “He hurt you, he smashed your confidence in yourself. Those scars are still there.”

  “Sam-”

  “He scarred you, Carly, but I’m going to erase them.” His gaze was serious, the fury dying back to be replaced with tenderness. “I’m going to treat you the way you should be treated.”

  “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

  The words fell between them.

  In silence, Sam looked steadily down at her. The hush lengthened but still he didn’t speak.

  The sound of the ocean waves gently lapping at the shore filled the air, the raucous shriek of sea gulls. A soft breeze stirred several strands of hair that had escaped the confines of his ponytail.

  His eyes were so intense.

  So intense as he bent down over her, lowering his head until he was close enough that those loose strands tickled silkily along her cheek.

  Thick lashes lowered, covering his eyes as he studied her mouth, and when he met her gaze again heat simmered within the depths, picking the green out from amongst the grey of his irises. “Do you really think I feel sorry for you, Carly?” His lips brushed across hers, leaving a tingling in their wake. “I don’t kiss women I feel sorry for.” Another press of his lips, a little firmer. “I don’t voluntarily kiss any woman I don’t have feelings for.” Another kiss, more definite. Longer. His breath warm against her lips. “Tell me, Carly; does this feel like a sympathy kiss?” And then he kissed her with a sensuality that had her grabbing onto him for support as her knees buckled.

  A firm kiss, lips moulded to hers, his hands tilting her head to give him more access as he swept inside to taste her, drinking from her, drawing heat through her so easily, so effortlessly, pulling it from deep within her centre to saturate every part of her, every vein, every pulse beating out rising arousal.

  When he lifted his mouth she couldn’t help but follow, seeking more, wanting him so much that her heart beat out a tattoo against her ribs that was almost painful.

  Willingly he gave to her, opening for her to taste him, welcoming her, sliding one hand around to cup the back of her head in his big palm. Winding her arms around his neck, she pressed into him, arching mindlessly, yearning to feel his hardness, his already familiar, hot body moulding to her soft curves.

  Breaking the kiss, Sam leaned his forehead against hers. She could only look dazedly into his eyes, seeing within the heat for her.

  “That wasn’t a sympathy kiss.” His voice held the huskiness of desire. “And you didn’t kiss me back like a woman accepting sympathy.”

  Hell no, she hadn’t, no way. She’d kissed him hungrily, wantonly, wanting him so much she was surprised she hadn’t tried to climb him like a bear after a pot of honey hanging high up a tree.

  “I know you felt something,” he continued. “I can see it in your eyes. Did you know your eyes go like hot chocolate when you’re aroused, Carly? All hotly decadent, like hot syrup poured over cold ice cream, melting every bit of it. That’s what you do to me. You melt me with one look.”

  It felt like they were in their own little world, the sound of the sea, the warmth of the sun, the scent of Sam, a mix of clean male, soap, and disinfectant from the hospital.

  The feel of him.

  The taste of him.

  She didn’t want it to end.

  “Tell me,” he said softly. “Tell me why you know what’s between us, yet you hold back.”

  About to deny it, she found herself whispering instead, “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “That you’ll leave me.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “That someone more your type will come along.”

  “I don’t have a type, Carly.” His gaze never wavered. “Not until you came along.”

  “Sam…” She didn’t know what to say, wanting to put distance between them so she could think, so she could shift past the desire coursing through her, his disturbing presence that both soothed and excited her.

  Even as she wanted to put distance between them, she ached to get closer.

  “I’m laying myself before you, Carly,” Sam said softly. “I’ve never done that with another woman, not ever in my whole life. I’m laying my soul bare, my feelings. It’s spread before you. All you have to do is take it.”

  She wanted to, God how she wanted to, she could almost reach out and touch it. But still…still…

  “You know what kind of man I am, you told me so yourself.” Sam kissed her softly on one eye, making her lashes flutter shut before he pressed another kiss, as light and breathy as a butterfly, on her other eye. “If there’s one thing I beg you to take a chance on, Carly, it’s me. Take a chance on me.”

  The deep voice was a hypnotic mix of heat and seduction, winding through her and deeper, making her open her eyes to look once more into his. To see the truth, the plain, honest truth that was so much a part of Sam.

  No hidden traps, no lies, no secrets. Just Sam.

  “Give us a chance.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Please, Carly.”

  Seconds ticked past as she searched inside herself, struggling with her past hurt and the becko
ning promise of something so much more, so much better.

  Could she do it? Could she trust herself to a man once more, place her confidence, her feelings, in a man’s hands?

  In Sam’s hands?

  They’d be so safe there, his hands so gentle, his nature so easy-going, so patient, so sweet. She’d be safe there in his hands.

  One more chance. One more time.

  Once more with Sam.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, Sam.”

  Relief spread across his handsome face and he gathered her close, so close against him, turning his head to bury his face against her neck and inhaling deeply. “Thank you. Thank you, Carly.” Pressing a soft kiss to the pulse beating in her throat, he promised, “You won’t ever regret it.”

  ~*~

  Standing in the gardening centre, Sam studied the statues. He was down to three choices. A Greek-looking goddess, only she wasn’t voluptuous enough to suit his taste. A goanna, which he thought would look awesome in the garden peeking out from amongst the daisies. A chubby cherub holding a wide, flat, round basket which would hold bird seed or water.

  Frowning, he walked around the statues, studying them from different angles. Nope, the goanna was still a firm favourite.

  “’Morning, Sam.” A shop assistant with a tag reading ‘Bert’ walked up. “Into statues now?”

  “Hi, Bert.” Hands in his pockets, Sam rocked back and forth in his sneakers. “It’s a gift.”

  “You know, you could just say it with flowers.”

  “True, but that’s a bit clichéd.”

  Bert’s bushy grey eyebrows rose. “Must be some woman.”

  “What makes you think it’s a woman? It could be for a bloke.”

  “Because blokes don’t put so much thought into buying presents for each other. Usually a slab will do.”

  Sam grinned. “Your friends have discerning tastes.”

  Bert lifted the cap from his head, scratched through his sparse hair and replaced it, tugging the peak down before pushing it back up. “Whatever. So, you going for the Greek statue? The women love that.”