Decadent Desires

by Tawny Weber

  So Rose would finish this job, she’d pay off her mother’s debt.

  And that she’d do. For family.

  “I have to go, Mother.”

  “Now, Rose, I’m not finished.”

  No. Effe would go on and on for hours, layering the guilt over reminders of everything she’d sacrificed, sprinkling all that with passive aggressive drops of motherly love.

  “I have to work, mother. I’ll call you later.”

  Rose gave herself a few minutes to gather herself before heading to the café. To Sam. She’d be damned if she’d go in there showing off the cloak of pity she so often wore when dealing with her mother.

  It took all of those few minutes, a stern talking to and a reminder that she wasn’t a damned wimp to call up that glowing energy in her belly again. To empower herself enough to put on a smile and finish her walk to the café.

  She managed to get through the doors and to the stairs with only a wave for Anja, who colorfully manned the counter. And if her head was full of family drama and doubts when she stepped into the apartment, she figured she was due.

  But the minute she walked in, all drama, all thoughts, and most of her brain cells, fell out of her head.

  “Oh.” She wet her lips, her eyes traveling over Sam’s bare chest and broad shoulders. The golden sprinkling of hair bisecting his pecs made her mouth water and her fingers itch to touch. “Hi.”

  “Rose. Hi. Sorry, I was just getting dressed.” With that, Sam pulled on a button up shirt, his fingers moving way too fast to close it up.

  She wet her lips and sighed.

  He was so gorgeous. Pure temptation.

  You’d think his impact would be less after a week of constant contact. Instead, it was so intense that it took all of her willpower not to stride across the room, rip open his shirt and lick his chest.

  And given that she’d used up so much of her willpower already this morning, Rose didn’t hold out a lot of hope for resisting much longer.

  Chapter Five

  Oooh, boy.

  She had to stop lusting after the man.

  At least, that’s what Rose told herself as she bit back a sigh over the losing the opportunity to gawk at Sam’s bare chest.

  Wishing she’d accepted something—anything—to eat in the hope that it’d have filled this odd, aching need in her belly, Rose tried to smile. And to keep her eyes off the rest of his body. Even fully covered, just thinking about what was beneath that cloth, about the man naked in the shower, was enough to fog her brain with needs she barely understood.

  “Let’s get to work, shall we?” Determined to get this done before she ripped his clothes off—or potentially more embarrassing, her own—she grabbed the notepad tossed on the table. Even as Sam protested, reaching over to grab the tablet, a slew of papers fluttered to the floor.

  Cheeks warm, Rose let him take the pad while she knelt down to gather the fallen pages. Her name jumped out of the lines and lines of text.

  Her name. And sex.

  Lots and lots of ideas about sex.

  Even more ideas than she’d had, she realized as she read through them. Or at least a wider variety of options for the same basic ideas.

  Oooh, boy. Her cheeks stayed warm, but this time with desire as she read through Sam’s thoughts.

  “Let me take that,” he muttered, reaching for the pages. But Rose whipped them out of his reach.

  “Rose, give me those pages.”

  “No.”

  Before he could make another grab, she tucked them behind her back.

  Sure, maybe it was childish.

  So what.

  “What are they? What you wrote. What does it mean?” She wet her lips, tried to settle the nerves jangling up and down her spine like a mariachi band.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.” His eyes locked on her arm where it tucked behind her back, Sam swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “It means nothing.”

  Uh huh.

  Rose might spend more time with computers than people, and her skills with men might be on par with a sheltered debutante, but she knew subterfuge when it was shifting from foot to foot in front of her. Just as she recognized desire.

  Desire, like the kind burning in Sam’s eyes.

  Unable to resist, she pulled the pages out again and looked over the list of very sexy ideas. Oh, what a fabulous writer he was, she thought, wetting her lips. Her brain was spinning with images inspired by his clever words.

  But when she looked back up, she noted the tight look in his eyes and the furrowed brow. There was anger in there. Enough to bury the desire. Enough to have her handing over the wrinkled wad of papers.

  “Fine. Here.” Unable to resist, she tilted her head to one side and added, “Why don’t you tell me what they mean, now?”

  “Mean? Nothing.” He shrugged, not meeting her eyes as he tucked the pages behind the back of the tablet again. “This is nothing. Just a writing tool. Sort of a mental brain dump to get out the clutter.”

  The idea of sex with her was cluttering his brain?

  “Because of the storyline,” he said as if inspired. “I had love scenes on the mind and needed to work a few things out so I could write the story you need.”

  “So that’s, what? Research?”

  There was a buzzing in Sam’s head. He was sure it was a warning, but even with disaster clear in front of him, he couldn’t see any way out of it.

  “It’s a writing exercise,” he explained. Or tried to explain. For some reason, his words kept getting caught in his tongue.

  Sam wondered if he’d ever felt nerves like this before? If he had, he couldn’t remember. Usually he had a pretty damn suave way with the ladies.

  Until now.

  Despite having hid the offending pages away, he shoved the tablet in the side table drawer, closing it with a decisive snap. And wished he could close the subject as easily.

  “A writing exercise,” Rose repeated in a contemplative tone that assured him that, despite his initial concern, she wasn’t angry. For the first time since he’d known her, her expression was impossible to read.

  “Forget it,” he suggested. He didn’t add the pleading please, but he definitely thought it.

  “Well, sure I could forget it,” she said, her easy smile sending need tearing through him. When she pushed that long swathe of silken hair back off her shoulder and adjusted her blouse so the filmy fabric fluttered over her breasts, he wondered why his tongue didn’t fall out.

  “Good. Let’s get to work then,” he suggested, gesturing to the couch for her to have a seat. Thankfully, Rose dropped her leather messenger bag onto the furry seat. But instead of sitting herself, she gave him a fluttering look from under her lashes.

  “But what if I’d rather not forget it?” she asked, destroying all his hopes that he’d regained control of his wayward thoughts—and the conversation.

  His ass halfway into the chair furthest from Rose as possible, Sam froze.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Actually, there were a few things you’d listed that I’d be interested in trying.” Her smile fluttered with heat and power. “In the name of research, I mean.”

  “Research?” He had to repeat her word just to make sure his brain hadn’t melted in the heat of lust.

  “Mm, yes. Research. You wrote a number of things that interested me, some of them I think I’d need to try first hand before we put them into a game.”

  Her words were as strong with magic as her smile was a lure of delight. It was as if her every utterance wove a spell around his resistance. Tightening and smothering it until it all but disappeared. Tempting and enticing until he could all but taste the allure.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he dismissed.

  “I know that I want to know more.” She moved closer. Close enough to draw one finger down his arm, as if testing the strength. Her smile said she approved.

  Sam angled away from her touch, stepped away from her temptation.
>
  “Want?” He looked at her so intently, he wondered that he couldn’t see clear to her soul. But it was her eyes that cast the spell. Deep blue and demanding, they insisted on the truth. “I have some major wants, Rose. Ones I don’t think you want to know about.”

  “Wants, like those that you wrote about?”

  “Yeah. Wants like that. Wants that include you and me, naked. That involve the exchange of tongues, the sweep of hands, the heat of bodies sliding together.” Sam didn’t know what made him say those words aloud, but he couldn’t seem to stop the flow of honesty. “I want you, Rose. I want you so much, I can taste it. I can feel it. I want you enough to make you want me.”

  He waited for her to look shocked. To shove him aside and ride the insult train out the door. At the very least, to cuss him out for shifting the lines of their friendship and putting her in a lousy position of listening to a man whose help she needed proposition her with PG-13 suggestions.

  Hell, he’d accept a quick slap across the face.

  But Rose did none of that.

  Instead, she smiled.

  And walked across the room, that smile lighting her way like the gently rising sun. That smile turned him on even more than the sweet curves of her body. Before Sam could try to figure out what that said about him, Rose reached out, curled her fingers over his shirt. And tugged.

  His eyes locked on hers, Sam let her pull him closer.

  Close enough that the heat of her body reached out and teased him closer. For the scent of her to wrap tight around him, luring him into forgetting his final objection to seducing.

  Or being seduced.

  He reached out, wrapping his hands around the delicate curve of her hips, pulling her firmly against his suddenly aching body.

  He wanted her.

  She wanted him.

  He was through using excuses to deny that want.

  So he gave in. And took her mouth.

  Those soft, delicate lips. That rich, addicting taste.

  His tongue swept. His breath mixed. His body rejoiced.

  Oh.

  Oh, baby.

  Rose melted. With the only available brain cell she had left, she gave a deep and heartfelt thanks for Sam’s writing exercise. It was as if reading those words had set loose something inside her.

  Passion, yes. As his tongue swept over hers in an enticing dance, she knew passion.

  But there was something else.

  Something magical.

  It shimmered in her belly, tangling with the desire already stirred. It made her feel powerful. Like she could do anything, could have everything.

  Then Sam nipped at her bottom lip, his teeth scraping over the soft flesh and sending a spear of need through her that obliterated all thought, all sense of anything but the man in her arms.

  Rose gave over to the kiss, to the feel of him. The taste of his tongue as it danced over hers. His muscles, rigid and hard, beneath her appreciative hands.

  His fingers skimmed up her sides, then down again, teasing and tickling sensation after sensation until Rose felt as if she were drowning in them. It wasn’t as if she’d never been kissed. It wasn’t as if she’d never had sex. Rose had plenty of experience to call on. But none had prepared her for what was coursing through her body now.

  Nothing had prepared her for what she’d feel at Sam’s touch.

  “More,” she murmured against his lips.

  Her hands raced over his body.

  Her nails scraped over the incredible breadth of his shoulders, down the rigid muscles of his arms, along the rippled tension of his abs.

  “I want more,” she breathed again. When he didn’t give it to her fast enough, she dug deep into her belly for the power churning there and let it flash out in demand. The light—probably her imagination—shimmered gold as she scraped her teeth over his jawline. She called on that light, using it to add to her demand. “Give me more. Now.”

  Even if he’d been able to resist the magic, he couldn’t hold out against Rose’s need. Sam knew he had to dig—and dig deep—for control. It took a couple tries before he could get a hold of even the slimmest thread, though.

  “Stop,” he ordered breathlessly, gripping her wrists gently so he could shift her hands into a less dangerous location. But anywhere she touched him made intense need overcome reason.

  “No,” she breathed, her mouth racing like fire over his chest. “I don’t want to stop. And neither do you.”

  She was right.

  His hands skimmed under her frothy blouse, shoving away the fabric to find silken skin.

  She was so right.

  “Here,” she demanded.

  “Not this time,” he breathed, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom. “This first time, I’m treating you like a princess.”

  “A princess, is it?” Rose’s laughter bounced off the walls like glitter, delicate and joyful. “And how about next time?”

  Sam set her gently on the bed, watching as she realized it was suddenly covered in rose petals of the most delicate shade of pink. Her eyes widened, her smile delighted as she lifted two handfuls and let them rain down onto the pristine white sheets.

  “You did this for me?”

  Before he could respond, before he could point out that the petals had appeared when she touched the mattress, Rose skimmed those teasing fingers down his belly, over the zipper of his jeans, across the erection straining for release.

  She arched up, her mouth skimming over his, lips sliding and tongue swirling.

  “I want you,” she breathed against his mouth. “Now.”

  With that, she shifted just enough to grasp the hem of her blouse. This time she was a princess, Sam reminded himself as he watched her toss each piece of clothing aside with the skill of a stripper. Next time, he’d treat her like the witch she was.

  Chapter Six

  Sam had never wanted like he wanted Rose.

  Still, even as he tossed his clothes aside, he had to be sure. To give her a chance to change her mind. Because once he’d had her, he knew he’d never let go again.

  “This means something,” he said, even as his gaze roamed the alabaster length of her naked body. Her blonde hair flowed like silk, teasing pale pink nipples. “Beyond pleasure. Beyond the moment. This is more.”

  “Then give me more.” Her words were demanding, but her attention was clearly not on the conversation. Instead, her eyes seemed to eat him up, they were so hungry and filled with need. “Give me everything.”

  God, he wanted to. So badly.

  But even as Sam tossed his jeans aside, standing naked and fully erect in front of her, he hesitated.

  “This is going to change things,” he told her, his words intense with all the information he couldn’t say. He couldn’t tell her that if they made love, changes would happen. Not just changing their relationship with new levels of intimacy. But her life would change. The rose petals were proof of that.

  “Are you going to talk?” She angled up to rest on her elbows and gave him a long, slow look through her lashes. “Or are you going to come over here?”

  What else could he do?

  Sam went over there.

  His eyes locked on hers as he leaned across her body. He anchored his palms on the mattress on either side of her shoulders, but was careful not to touch her.

  Not yet.

  First, he breathed in her delicacy, the sweet mingling of her scent with the velvety rose petals. He nuzzled closer to her throat, the soft silk of her hair teasing his nose as he drew in the heady combination.

  Then he leaned back to stare at the perfection of her features. Her blue eyes were dark with desire. Her cheeks flushed with delight. Her pale skin pink from throat to belly button. His mouth went dry as he took in everything in between. The full, pouting breasts with their candy-pink tips. The gentle curve of her waist, the soft flare of her hips. The golden triangle of downy hair, shielding Heaven from his gaze.

  “I want you so much,” he whi
spered.

  “Then why aren’t you taking me?”

  Rose reached out to slide her hands over his chest, her fingers gently scraping. The silent demand in her touch broke his willpower, destroying his vow to go slowly.

  He angled himself over her, his knees digging into the mattress, cupping her body beneath his. Cradled in the now-bruised rose petals, Rose smiled her pleasure as Sam straddled her enchanting body. His fingers teased and tempted, swirling over her breasts in ever tightening circles until he reached the delicious peaks that so entranced him.

  He leaned down to sip at her nipples, his tongue swirling, gliding. Tasting. God, she was delicious. He couldn’t get enough, even when he sucked the hard nubbin between his lips, scraping it with his teeth until she cried out. Not willing to neglect any possibility for pleasure, he worked the other breast with his thumb, teasing it into hardness for his mouth’s satisfaction.

  Her taste was an addiction. One he willingly gave himself over to. As he took her mouth with his, savoring and losing himself in her, he realized that he’d never get enough of her. That he’d spend the rest of his life craving, the rest of his eternity needing.

  Oh, yeah.

  Rose reveled in the sensations rushing through her body. She’d never felt like this. Never realized she could feel so much. It was because of Sam, she knew. His touch, his mouth, his body were driving her higher. Were exciting her beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

  But she wanted more.

  Her hands skimmed his body, delighting in the hard muscles and soft hair of his chest. The rigid strength of his arms. The gentle slope of his back. The man’s body fit hers perfectly. The length of him, the weight of him.

  As need coiled tight in her belly, Rose wanted more. She wanted to feel the rest of him.