The Last Time We Kissed

by Ann Roth

  “I sure did.” Amy snuggled against his side, resting her head on his chest. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too,” Sam replied. The thick rug was reasonably comfortable, and the woman against his side warm and soft. He shut his eyes and slept.

  Sometime later, a clock chimed softly, waking him. What time was it? He pushed the light on his watch and squinted at the dial. Not quite midnight. He should leave, he thought, idly stroking Amy’s hip, the side of her breast, her shoulder.

  She murmured in her sleep, then turned toward him. Her fingertips brushed across his groin before settling on his belly. Desire licked through him, and just like that, he was rock-hard. Sam scrubbed a hand over his face and swore silently.

  His plan had seemed so logical: make love with Amy and satisfy his desire for good. Too bad things had backfired. Instead of getting Amy out of his system, he only wanted her more.

  AMY AWAKENED SLOWLY. Though it was dark, she knew where she was—cuddled up with Sam on the living room floor. Against her better judgment she’d made love with him. She tried to summon up panic or at least a trace of worry, but with her head pillowed on his warm, solid chest and his arm anchoring her close, it was difficult to chide herself about her foolish behavior. She drew in a slow, deep breath, and the familiar smells of pine-scented soap and Sam’s unique scent filled her senses. He smelled so good, and this felt so right.

  Longing flared in her. She knew she shouldn’t want Sam again. But she did, too much to pretend otherwise. She flicked her tongue across his nipple, then flung her thigh over his hips. He was aroused. A low groan rumbled in his chest, and then she was flat on her back, her hands pinned to the floor by his. His shadowed face loomed inches above hers, so close that they shared the same breath. He liked to wake up making love, she remembered. So did she. Desire flamed through her. She wanted him so much. But they’d agreed to make love once and only once.

  “We shouldn’t,” she said.

  “You’re right. Unfortunately we have a problem.” He sounded strained, as if his teeth were gritted. “I still want you.” He stopped talking to kiss the tender underside of her arm. “And you still want me.”

  It was pointless to argue when her bones had just melted. “What should we do?” she asked on a shuddering breath of need.

  “Change the rules,” he said, shifting closer. “Maybe we need one, full night of making love.”

  With Sam so close and her need so urgent, it was hard to think. “That sounds like an excellent idea,” she managed.

  He blew out a huge breath. “I’m glad you agree. But when morning comes, we stop. For good.”

  “For good,” she repeated.

  “I’ll find the condoms.” He released her hands. “Don’t go away,” he said, kissing her lips lightly.

  She heard rustling as he searched for his clothes. “Just how many condoms did you bring with you tonight?” she asked.

  “A handful,” he said. He made a satisfied sound and ripped open a packet.

  Despite her desire, his statement bothered her. Her mouth tightened. “So you didn’t just stop by to apologize. You knew you’d get ‘lucky’ tonight. You planned out this whole thing, didn’t you?”

  “Not exactly. But I was a Boy Scout, remember? I’m always prepared.” He dropped down beside her and gave her a long, passionate kiss. “Aren’t you glad?” he whispered, nuzzling her breasts.

  Gasping, she arched her back. Preoccupied as she was, she couldn’t find fault with his reasoning, nor did she want to. “Oh, yes.”

  His clever fingers found the aching bud between her legs. “You want to go upstairs, to your bed?”

  “I can’t wait that long,” she said breathlessly.

  “Next time, then,” he said.

  WHEN AMY AWOKE Sunday morning, she was on her side, facing the bedroom window. Sam lay curled around her, spoon-style. He was still asleep, she knew by the even sound of his breathing. Unwilling to wake him just yet, she remained motionless. She opened her eyes to a bedroom bright with daylight. The yellow lace curtains provided scant protection from the morning sun. She should have closed the blinds.

  But by the time she and Sam had made it upstairs, she’d been too preoccupied with him to remember.

  They’d made love all night long—passionate love tempered with tenderness and once, when they were both panting with need, desperately fast. They’d tasted every inch of each other’s bodies with wild abandon. Just before dawn, they’d used up the last of the condoms. Exhausted, they’d fallen asleep.

  And now it was over.

  She would never again make love with Sam. Last night they’d agreed—one night and only one night. A smart decision, but at the moment, Amy felt anything but smart. She bit her lip.

  Unfortunately, she’d screwed up. Sometime during the night she’d lost her heart to him. She’d fallen in love all over again. No, that wasn’t quite true. She’d never stopped loving Sam. Only she’d refused to admit it to herself. But now she could no longer hide the truth.

  What in the world had possessed her to spend the night in his arms? He wasn’t right for her, and she wasn’t right for him. They were too different. They didn’t want the same things. Good, logical reasons for not losing her heart. Trouble was, her heart didn’t care a whit about logic.

  No longer able to lie still, she tried to scoot away. Sam’s arms tightened around her.

  “Rise and shine,” she prodded brightly as she managed to slip from his grasp.

  He released her, cracked open one eye and groaned. “What time is it?”

  Suddenly shy of her nudity despite what they’d done to each other during the night, she sat up, pulling the patchwork quilt with her. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “Almost nine.”

  Sam swore. “I meant to sneak out early this morning, before any nosy neighbors saw my car out front.”

  “Too late to worry about that now,” Amy said. “Besides, it’s Sunday. People sleep in. Maybe no one noticed.”

  “In Forest Hills? Fat chance. Well, we’re adults. What we do is nobody’s business but our own.” He rolled onto his back and sat up beside her. The sheet bunched around his hips, leaving his chest gloriously bare.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Even now she wanted to run her hands over his skin, feel his muscles quiver as her fingers traced a path to his groin… Jerking her gaze up, she pinned her attention to his morning beard. He needed a shave. “What time are you supposed to pick up Mariah?”

  “At ten.” He studied her openly. “You okay?”

  “A little tired, and maybe a little sore. Aside from that, fine.” If you didn’t count the ache in her chest. She forced a smile. “What about you?”

  “The same. I really enjoyed last night.”

  “Me, too.”

  They shared a warm look, and Sam offered a sexy, crooked grin that melted her heart. But this was no time for foolishness. She managed a casual shrug. “At last, we’re out of each other’s systems. Thank goodness, huh?”

  “Right.” His grin slipped as he nodded several times.

  A sudden, uncomfortable silence sprang between them, dispelling the heated intimacy of the night before.

  Searching her mind for something to say, Amy angled her chin toward the clock. “It’s almost time to pick up your niece—”

  “I should get moving—” Sam said at the same moment. He swung his legs over the bed, then glanced over his shoulder at her. “Mind if I shower here? Or a bath, if you have only the tub.”

  “There’s a shower, in the guest bedroom down the hall, and fresh bath towels hanging. The soap and shampoo are in the medicine cabinet.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tossing back the covers he rose, unselfconscious as he padded across her bedroom naked. He’d always been like that, a man comfortable with his body. Amy gave him an admiring glance. He was beautiful and strong, but not overly muscular. And she would never again smooth her palms down his long, straight back or feel his heartbeat agai
nst her breasts. The knowledge made her feel empty and alone.

  She swallowed her sadness and pinned a smile on her face until she heard the guest bathroom door close. Then she moved mechanically into her own bathroom for a quick bath. When the water rushed loudly into the tub, she let the tears flow.

  Chapter Eleven

  SAM WAS NOT happy, he acknowledged as he toweled dry after his shower. He thought he might be falling for Amy all over again. Not smart. Loving her meant pain, and he did not want to experience that kind of misery ever again. Besides, she was over him now. She’d said as much a little while ago. “At last we’re out of each other’s systems.” He frowned, remembering.

  He’d left his clothes downstairs, so he wrapped the towel around his waist and strode toward the staircase. He didn’t fault Amy for what she’d said, since the whole reason for making love was to get over their mutual physical need.

  It just hadn’t happened for him.

  On the way to the stairs he passed her bedroom. She was no longer there, but the bed was a rumpled mess, a testament to the night he’d never forget. The sex between them had been better than he’d remembered, the best sex of his entire life. He’d never made love so many times in one night and with such intensity, never forgotten where he ended and his partner began. But it was over now, he grimly reminded himself.

  He moved silently down the carpeted steps. His clothes and socks lay neatly folded beside his sneakers. He retrieved them and dressed quickly. The throw pillow and afghan were back on the sofa. She’d straightened up as if nothing had happened.

  Which underlined her statement earlier. She really was over him. Sam envied her. He stared at the rug where plenty had happened.

  They’d made love twice here before moving upstairs. Then they’d moved to Amy’s clawfoot tub for a wet and wild bath. After that, several more times in her bed. Yet after all that loving, crazy as it was, he still wanted her—even more than before. He gave his head a firm shake. Amy had taken their agreement to heart, and so would he. There would be no more sex with her, and if he knew what was good for him, he’d stop wanting her right now. Resolute, he nodded at the condom wrappers in the waste basket. Goodbye, wrappers, and goodbye misguided lust.

  Time to leave. He knew exactly where Amy was by the rich aroma of fresh-brewed coffee. Following the scent, he found the kitchen.

  She was standing before the coffee maker at a white-and-blue tiled counter, staring out the window that overlooked the postage-stamp-size backyard. Her back was to Sam, and she didn’t seem to know he was there. He took advantage of that to study her for a moment, knowing he’d likely never see her again like this—never again, period, after the recital the week after next. She’d re-braided her hair and the ends were damp, as if she’d just bathed. She’d dressed in loose, faded jeans and a heavy pink T-shirt that fell to her hips. No shoes or socks. Hidden under the plain clothes and simple hairstyle was a woman with the passion of a lioness.

  Suddenly, a heavy sigh issued from her lips, and her shoulders slumped as if she carried the weight of the world. Probably worried about the upcoming recital.

  Sam wanted to come up behind her, kiss her nape and make the worries disappear. But doing that would violate their agreement. Instead, he cleared his throat, letting her know he was there. She spun around, straightening her shoulders and lifting her head as she faced him. “That was fast.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for the use of the shower.”

  “No problem,” she said without quite meeting his eye. “Coffee’s about ready. Would you like a cup before you go?”

  He wasn’t up to sitting around, making small talk. “Better not.”

  “Okay,” she replied, looking relieved.

  He shifted awkwardly. “Mariah’s parents get back tomorrow night. Now that the sets are done I probably won’t see you again until the night of the recital.”

  “It’s best that way,” she said, fiddling with the ends of her braid. “Don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You’re still going to help backstage, right?”

  “I said I would,” he muttered.

  “You don’t have to sound so grumpy about it.”

  Dammit, he felt grumpy. But he was not in the mood to argue, so he let the incendiary comment slide. “I’ll be going now.”

  “I’ll see you out.”

  She unlocked the latch and pulled open the heavy oak door. “Goodbye, Sam,” she said.

  Her eyes searched his before she bit her lip and stared at her feet. A thick lump formed in his throat. He swallowed hard around it. “Take care, Amy.” He started to touch her cheek, then thought better of it.

  Before he was down the front steps, the door clicked firmly behind him. Looked as if she couldn’t wait to get rid of him. Then what she said was true. Last night had worked for her—she’d gotten him out of her system.

  He’d done the same with her, he told himself.

  Liar.

  “DID YOU HEAR?” Nina asked the moment Dani answered the phone on Sunday. She’d waited as late as possible to call, but couldn’t hold off another moment.

  “Hear what?” Dani said.

  “Sam was seen leaving Amy’s around nine-thirty this morning. I think he spent the night there.”

  “Really? Whoopee!” Dani shrieked. She covered the mouthpiece but Nina heard everything. “Guess what, Russ? Nina says Sam left Amy’s at nine-thirty this morning. He probably spent the night.”

  “How does she know that?” came Russ’s muffled and skeptical comment.

  Nina pictured her friend shrugging before she removed her hand from the mouthpiece. “And just how do you know this?” Dani asked.

  “Susan Andrews drove past Amy’s on her way to church this morning. Get this: she actually saw Sam walk down the front steps and head toward his car. He parked the Porsche right out front. Susan says he needed a shave, so of course he stayed the night. She was worried he’d see her, but doesn’t think he noticed her. She said he seemed preoccupied.” Nina laughed. “I wonder why? Anyway, Susan phoned Connie from the church phone, then Connie called me around ten.”

  “Ten! That was a good two hours ago. Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

  “You’re carrying twins,” Nina explained. “I wanted you to get your sleep.”

  “I can do that any time. This is important. It’s Amy we’re talking about, our best friend.” Dani paused. “I thought there was something going on between them. Heck, every time his name came up the other night, she blushed like crazy.”

  “She wouldn’t look at us, either. Wonder why she didn’t confide in us?” She thumbed through her dog-eared astrology guide until she found what she sought. “Especially now. Her chart indicates this is a good time to share news with friends.”

  “I don’t know, but I’m real glad she and Sam are seeing each other again.” Dani gave a dreamy sigh. “They belong together. She’d better break her date with Bob.”

  “I’m sure she will. Connie and Bob are friendly enough to talk about who they’re dating. She’ll find out what she can and let us know.”

  “Sounds good,” Nina said. “Should we call Amy on the three-way?”

  “Better not. We don’t want to get too pushy, and besides, she’s got the recital to worry about. She’ll tell us everything when she’s good and ready.”

  “Smart thinking. We’ll just sit tight and let the romance unfold.”

  “Oh, this is so exciting.” Nina cupped the receiver between her ear and shoulder so she could rub her hands in glee. “I can’t wait to see them together the night of the recital.”

  MONDAY EVENING, Sam welcomed his sister and her husband back with relief. Between problems with the manager at one of his burger locations, lack of sleep and chauffeuring Mariah around this afternoon, it had been a hell of a day. He looked forward to slipping back into the comfortable role of taking care of himself and nobody else. No more playing Mr. Mom. No car pools and no trips to Amy’s studio. He could a
void her as he had before he’d taken charge of his niece. Once he stopped seeing Amy, he had no doubt he’d soon forget her completely. The thought eased the knot of tension that had stayed clamped in his belly since Sunday.

  Standing back, he watched the joyful reunion between Mariah and her parents. Despite what she’d said about not really missing them, now that they were home, the kid was ecstatic. From the moment Jeannie and Mike had walked through the door minutes ago, she’d lodged herself like a bullet against her mother’s side, only ungluing herself to jump into her father’s arms for a welcoming hug.

  Though a loved member of the family, Sam wasn’t a part of this. He hung back, watching with a pang of envy. At this moment he almost wanted a family of his own.

  His thoughts flashed to Amy, but he shook them off. He’d tried the marriage route. It wasn’t for him. She wasn’t for him. She was out of his system, and he was out of hers. He’d repeated that to himself so many times, he almost believed it. And he needed to leave. “I’m sure you’re tired,” he told his sister and her husband. “So am I, and I want to get home.”

  Jeannie nodded, her short blond hair bleached almost white by the Hawaiian sun. Unlike Sam, she’d inherited their mother’s blond hair and their father’s brown eyes. “You handled Mariah’s strep throat like a pro. Thanks for that, and everything else, Sam.”

  “No problemo.” He winked at his niece. “We had fun, didn’t we kid?”

  “Uh-huh.” Cuddled between both parents, the girl beamed as she gave a thumbs-up. “Uncle Sam read me stories when I was sick, and we played games, too. He’s the best uncle in the world.”