"Have you ever been fucked, goddammit?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin at his abrupt blast of outrage; then her own temper ignited and she jerked her arms away from him and came up on her knees to face him head on. Poking him in the chest to emphasize every word, she said, "No, all right? No, there's been no one."
His eyes widened over her attack and he leaned back out of reach.
More softly and with a little desperation, Ariel explained, "I only ever wanted you."
Looking equal parts pained and provoked, Sam started to rise from the bed. He'd turned halfway from her when resolve overrode her anxiety, and Ariel hurled herself at him, tackling him hard from the side.
Unfortunately, her surprise attack sent him right over the edge of the bed. Unprepared, he had no way to stop himself. Arms flailing, he crashed to the hard floor. Ariel landed on top of him with an "omph," forcing a loud grunt from Sam.
For five seconds, he just stared up at her, his face blank in shock at what she'd done. Ariel quickly took advantage. She grabbed his ears and kissed him.
When he tried to turn his head, she bit his mouth.
"Ow!" He wrenched back. "Damn it to hell—"
"You have a foul, but delicious mouth, Sam Watson." She kissed him again, licking her way past his teeth, rubbing her breasts against his naked chest. When he stopped fighting her, holding himself in a sort of suspended indecision, she ran her hands all over him, over his sleek hard shoulders, his wide, hairy chest, down his sides and back up again. She couldn't get enough of him and let him know with the way she touched him, how she crawled over him.
Sam groaned and in the next instant, his hands opened wide over her behind, gripping her tightly, grinding her into his erection. Thrilled, Ariel opened her legs to straddle his hips, and threw her head back with a triumphant moan. Beneath her mound, even through his slacks, she could feel the thick rise of Sam's erection. She had thought herself long done, half dead, uninspired toward anything else sexual.
But it took very little for Sam to have her wild again. A look. A touch. The two combined and she wanted to beg him to take her.
She kissed his chest and when his fingers gently laced into her hair and he said, softly and with apology, "Ariel," she bit him again, making him jump.
"Be quiet, Sam."
He half laughed, half moaned. "You're stealing my thunder, babe."
"I want you, enough for the two of us." She tenderly licked his discolored, sore ribs while inching her way down his muscled body. His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her back for only a moment before urging her lower with sublime surrender.
"Yes," Ariel whispered and she attacked the fastenings to his pants, hurrying before he could change his mind. Every time he shifted, she kissed him through the material, stroked him beneath the zipper, did her best to keep his lust at an urgent level so he couldn't concentrate long enough to reject her.
When she finally got his fly opened she snaked her hand inside, then paused with the wonder of it, the amazing way he felt, so alive and solid and yet velvety textured, flexing and pulsing in her hand.
Staring down at him, her lips parted to accommodate her fast breathing, Ariel examined her very first up-close and personal penis. What a revelation. "Sam."
"Kiss me, Ariel." The words were so guttural, she could barely understand him but she knew what he wanted.
Holding him now in both hands, she brushed a kiss up the length of him and heard his sharp intake of breath, felt the way his hands clenched in her hair, how his big body trembled.
Amazing. And exciting. She ran her tongue up to the very end, then over the glistening tip and he lurched so violently he nearly tossed her off. She quickly repositioned herself and did it again, this time lingering on the head, on that warm bead of moisture that tasted both salty and rich and not quite how she'd ever imagined.
"Oh God."
"I like this," Ariel purred, pleased with her discovery and Sam's reaction to her touch. She glanced up at him. "Do you?"
He laughed again, but it was a sound of agony, not humor.
"Will you like this?" She opened her mouth and drew him in, not real deep because he was big and she was new to this, but taking the head all the way inside to suckle at it, to roll her tongue around him. She tasted more fluid, felt him grow even more, pulse. Sam let out a growling rumble and his whole big body jerked.
Before Ariel could fully appreciate all that splendid response, she found herself on her back, Sam firmly between her thighs, his mouth covering hers. He was ferocious, breathing hard and fast, his hands everywhere, his tongue hot in her mouth, his hips stroking her.
"Protection," he groaned and, as if by a mighty effort, pushed himself up enough to fumble in the nightstand drawer until he snagged three connected condoms. He ripped one free along the perforated line, opened it with his teeth and sat back on his heels to roll it on.
"You asked for this," he told her as he shoved his pants down and kicked them off, then wedged himself back between her thighs before she could get a good look at him completely naked. "Remember that."
For an answer, Ariel twined her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and hugged him tight. She loved him so much that tears sprang to her eyes. "I won't ever forget it," she promised him.
He hesitated, his chest working like a bellows. Ariel was so afraid he'd just changed his mind that she tightened her hold.
"Shh." He smoothed his hand up and down her side. "Relax."
"Don't leave me, Sam." She hated pleading, but if he turned her away now…
"No, I won't." And then, with sober apology: "I can't." He eased his weight onto her and carefully coaxed her arms from his neck. "I don't want to hurt you, Ariel."
"You would never hurt me."
"I might if I take you like a crazed sailor on shore leave. But you set me off, honey, you really do. I need you to help me out here."
With complete and utmost sincerity, Ariel told him, "You can take me like a crazed sailor. I won't mind."
He smiled, the most tender smile she'd ever seen from him. "I'll mind. Now quit talking and kiss me. No, gently. Yeah, that's right."
Ariel melted. Sam's voracious, hungry kisses were incredible, but the way he kissed her now, almost as if he cared about her, maybe loved her just a little, too, was enough to fill her up for a lifetime. And he took his time, kissing her long and slow and deep until she was the one who demanded more by pressing her belly up against him.
"Sam?"
"Yeah baby?"
"I'm dying to feel you inside me."
He shuddered. "All right." After levering himself up on one elbow, Sam reached down with his other hand to guide himself in. Ariel saw that he was shaking, the high color in his face, how impossibly blue his eyes looked. The broad head of his penis nudged her soft opening, pushed marginally inside.
Sam locked his jaw. "You are so damn wet."
"I know." She flushed. "I can't help it."
"It's good. Damn good." He sank in a bit deeper with a groan. "Small and tight." His jaw worked as he forced himself into her. "And all mine."
Ariel's heart lurched at those possessive words. "Yes. Always."
But he didn't seem to know what she said, or even what he'd said. His eyes were glazed, burning as he stared down at her and she saw the acute pleasure in his face as her body accepted him. There was a stretching sensation, a little burning, but no real pain. She felt full, complete. Wonderfully alive.
Suddenly his shoulders bunched. He cursed, squeezed his eyes shut; then he snapped. He thrust into her, causing her to lose her breath in one startled gasp of mingled discomfort and joy.
"I'm sorry," he rasped, even as he slid back out, then stroked in deeper again, gaining a rhythm, harder and faster with each turn.
I love you, Sam. But the words were only in Ariel's mind. She held him, cradling his big body close to her heart while he thrust heavily into her, his arms locked tight around her, his face pressed into the side of h
er throat. He was sweaty, heat pouring off him, and then he arched his back, burying himself so deeply that Ariel cried out.
His face was beautiful, harshly masculine, etched with pleasure so sharp it mirrored pain. Ariel smiled at him, stroked his chest and shoulders until the tremors passed, his primal growls faded, and he slowly sank down onto her.
The carpet on her back prickled, her thighs ached, and Sam's weight pressed her down, making it difficult to breathe. But she didn't want to move. Not ever.
Without lifting his head, Sam said, his voice a sleepy rumble, "You probably have carpet burns on your ass now to add to your other injuries."
Ariel giggled.
Smiling, he forced his head up to see her. "That damn laugh," he said fondly. And he kissed her.
Ariel was so full of love, she couldn't imagine being any happier.
"You all right?"
Dreamily, she sighed. "I'm perfect."
"Yeah." He sat up beside her, his back against the side of the bed, one leg bent, and he looked at her body. He shook his head in chagrin. "That you are. But you'll be more perfect after a shower and some sleep."
Oh no. Panic twisted inside her, but she tried to hide it. "Sam, are you sending me home?"
He shrugged, scooped her up as he stood, groaned at the pain in his shoulder and ribs, and then looked at her. "Unless you want to spend the night. Up to you."
Her heart raced. "You don't mind if I stay?"
Taking that as an affirmation that she wanted to, Sam headed for the bathroom. "The damage is done—but I'm not. Be forewarned though. If you stay, I plan to take you at least a few more times." He looked down at her. "In a few more ways."
Filled with relief, Ariel put her head on his shoulder. "Maybe," she said, tugging at his crisp chest hair, "I'll just take you instead."
He stopped in midstride, groaned again, then rushed her into the bathroom and stood her in the tub. "Virgins are the very devil." He turned away as he removed the spent condom.
"Ex-virgins." When he joined her in the tub, Ariel admired his body with eyes and hands and a few well-placed kisses. She liked the way his dark chest hair tapered off into a long thin line down his body. It circled his navel, then arrowed down to his groin, surrounding and framing his heavy sex.
"Right." Sam took her mouth, smothering her screech of outrage when he turned the cold water on full blast and it hit her in the back. "An ex-pushy virgin who gloats when she gets her own way."
"Sam!" The water quickly warmed, taking away her chills.
He lathered her up, somehow always managing to keep a good hold on her soap-slick body. By the time he finished, Ariel was ready to learn about the new ways he'd mentioned. The night couldn't be long enough to suit her.
* * *
Sam awoke to a soft, damp kiss on his lower spine. His eyes snapped open but he didn't move. He was on his stomach, his legs sprawled out, his body heavy with sleep.
Deep shadows still filled the room, telling him it was early morning. His brain felt foggy, as if he'd been on a three-day drunk but with alarming clarity, he knew it was carnal gluttony that had him sluggish this morning, not booze.
Ariel was amazing. Everything he'd ever wanted in a sex partner. Everything he'd ever wanted, period.
He felt her warm fingertips tickling down his spine to the top of his ass. She hesitated, then stroked lower, until she found his testicles and could fondle him from behind. He bit back a rumbling groan.
After the excesses of the night, he should have been dead to the world, unable to rise to the occasion. But this was Ariel—and he was rising rather quickly.
"You're awake," she murmured, sounding more than a little pleased with herself.
"I am now." Sam rolled to his back and dragged her on top of him, appreciating her early morning, sleep-rumpled appeal. "Awake and ready, thanks to a certain little sexy lady who tried to molest me in my sleep."
She gave him a willing smile.
Sam sighed. "Unfortunately we're out of rubbers and I don't take chances, so quit torturing me."
Her face fell. "Bummer."
"Yeah." She sounded so forlorn, Sam almost laughed. "What time is it?"
"Six."
Aware of numerous aches and pains, he stretched beneath her. Laughing, Ariel almost slid off him. She grabbed him tight and managed to hang on.
Her giggle, which had once grated on his nerves, now seemed beyond adorable. "What time do you have to be at work?"
"Ten."
He swatted her bare behind. "Let's go get some breakfast, then. I'm famished."
He gently pushed her onto her back, gave her a smacking kiss on the mouth, and rolled out of bed. If he'd been alone, he would have limped to the dresser for his shorts because every muscle screamed in complaint as he moved. But with Ariel watching, he did his best to do the macho thing and hide his discomfort.
She came to her knees in the middle of the bed. "My dress is ripped and I never got around to fixing it last night, so can I borrow a T-shirt?"
He cast her a quick look. "Naw, I like seeing you naked."
Her face turned bright pink. "I can't cook or eat breakfast naked."
"Sure you can." He stepped into black boxer-briefs and hiked them up. "My house, my rules."
Her back stiffened. "Sam."
"Ariel." She was so damn cute, he couldn't resist teasing her. "You're such a spoilsport."
Her disheveled blond curls trembled in her agitation, forcing Sam to swallow a laugh. "All right, all right, don't start fuming. You can have a shirt." And then, just to tweak her anger, he added, "I suppose modesty in someone as young as you is to be expected."
He tossed her a white T-shirt, but it hit her in her glowering face, then fell to her lap. She didn't even attempt to catch it.
Sam leaned on the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying her. "Changed your mind?"
Her chin lifted; she flipped the shirt to the floor. "I believe I have." In lofty disdain, she slid out of the bed and strode naked to the door. "What's a little nudity among adults?"
Oh hell. Sam went after her, his gaze glued to her bare butt swishing and swaying down the stairs. He clutched his heart, thinking he was far too old to survive so much stimulation. He grinned at the thought, remembering that Ariel was the first one to fall asleep last night—and she'd had a fat smile on her face.
He'd literally worn the little darling out, and damn, that made him proud.
His grin died a quick death when, just as they reached the landing, an outraged knock sounded on his door. Ariel jumped a foot and dashed behind him, staring at the door as if it had suddenly become transparent and whoever lurked on the other side could see her. Scowling, Sam went to the peephole to look out. Ariel clutched at him, staying so close he felt her nipples on his back.
"Shit."
"Who is it?"
Dropping back against the door, he said, "Pete. And judging by the look on his face, he's finally noticed your car."
She covered her mouth with a hand. "Oh no."
"Oh no" was right. What the hell should he do now?
The door rattled again, and Pete yelled, "Open up, Sam! I know you're in there."
Sam gave Ariel the once over, then lifted a brow. "Now might be a good time to display that innate modesty, sweetheart. I somehow doubt Pete will believe anything I try to tell him if he sees you flitting around my house in your birthday suit."
Her mouth fell open and in a flash she turned around and dashed back up the stairs. What a sight, Sam thought, watching the way she bounced and jiggled in all the right places. He shook his head. He was an idiot, letting himself be ruled by his gonads instead of common sense. He should have sent her home last night.
Hell, he should never have touched her in the first place. But he had. And he'd more than enjoyed himself.
Now he'd have to pay.
Pete had his fist raised, apparently ready to pound the damn door down, when Sam drew it open. He took his brother off guard, saying
, "Hey Pete. What's up?"
Pete's look of surprise disappeared beneath censure. He shoved his way in, looking this way and that. "Where is she?"
"She who?"
Pete whirled around to face Sam. "Don't be an asshole. You know damn good and well I'm talking about Ariel. It didn't register last night, but that's her car in your driveway and now it's still there—"
"Yeah?" Sam leaned out the open door, looked at the car, and said, "Huh. So it is."
Pete's teeth clicked together. "Where—is—she?"
From the top of the stairs, Ariel said softly, "I'm here."
Both men turned to look up. Sam took a surprised step forward. Did she have to hit him with one emotional punch after another? He knew Pete gave him a startled glance, but Sam couldn't get his gaze off her, not even to reassure his brother.
Ariel had hastily dressed in one of Sam's extra large white T-shirts. It was so enormous on her, one shoulder hung down nearly to her elbow and the hem landed almost at her knees, more than adequately covering her. Still, she'd also borrowed a pair of his drawstring running shorts. She'd tied them so tight, the string hung to her ankles. She looked … comically precious.
It was a wretched situation for Sam to find himself in, and still he smiled.
Pete punched him in the arm, glowering and bristling and somehow looking protective. Toward Ariel? Well hell. He'd sworn he was over her, yet here he was with his shoulders hunched and his jaw jutting forward.
"You're in your damned underwear," Pete told Sam under his breath, as if Ariel might not have already known that.
"Yeah, and you know, Ariel just might be in my underwear, too. Are you, honey? Did you find the boxers, along with the shirt and shorts, in my third drawer?"
Not amused, Pete slugged him again.
In an odd way, Sam was proud of him. Pete was a man, and apparently he'd listened to at least a little of what Sam had told him about respecting women.
"This isn't funny," Pete said.
"No, I don't suppose it is." Sam wondered how the situation could get any worse. He found out when his neighbor, Hesper, and her bloated bulldog poked their heads though the open front door.
First family and now friends. You'd think he was throwing a party, rather than debauching one very sexy, too young, slightly ex-virgin.
BAD BOYS ON BOARD Page 6
