Lust on the Rocks

by Dianne Venetta

  Damn if Jen wasn’t right. Jessica needed to find her own way. This was her journey, no one else’s. It was a fork in the road to the woman she would become, and sisterly intervention would only hold her back. Frustration boiled. “Damn logic,” Sam muttered.

  But wisdom did nothing to ease her state of mind. What if Jess bungled it? Youthful idealism was a great concept, except when it rallied the troops and forged them ahead in the wrong direction. Then what? In this case, the results could be disastrous.

  “I only plan to advise her,” Sam called out.

  “Advise me on sandals,” she replied over her shoulder.

  “Sandals, she says.” Futility blew out with a sigh, but Sam followed, her heart dragging heavily behind. Not like she had a choice. The woman was a raging bulldozer on issues of the heart, though to look at her, you’d never suspect.

  Sam hurried to catch up. In fact, to look at the two of them, they were a study in opposites. Both were trim in physique, yet Jen was soft and conservative while Sam preferred bold and bright, much like her sundress today, with its melee of tropical hues and patterns. But on the inside, where it really mattered, their hearts beat in unison. Both held ambition, drive and fire—albeit Jen’s smoldered beneath the surface.

  Closing the distance, Sam tried again. “Listen—”

  “Let it go, Sam.” Jennifer slowed to a stop, her interest drawn to a display of designer handbags and luggage perched on an intricate tapestry. “It’s not healthy for you to fester.”

  “I have a lot of unhealthy habits and I’m doing just fine, thank you.” And there was no reason she couldn’t help Jess.

  Jess was the only baby who didn’t fight when she changed their diapers, never bit her when angry, or showered her in spit-up. Two weeks ago over the toilet had been the closest she’d come to that disgusting feat.

  Strange, but the memory brought a smile to her lips. There was a first time for everything and as promised, she had been there. Jess needed her and she had been there.

  Along with Sam’s handsome lover!

  What a gold mine of compassion he was, especially when it came to soiled toilet bowls and fool-smelling stench. Her commode had been downright dazzling after Vic finished with it. The image of him cleaning up after Jess touched Sam in an odd, warm-fuzzy sort of way. And it allowed her to let go of Jess’ plight, if only momentarily. The man was definitely a rare find.

  Determined not to ruin her afternoon with Jen, Sam effectively closed the subject. “I’ll take your advice under consideration, but I won’t guarantee anything.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Besides, she’d already stuffed Jen with an earful over brunch. Two Mimosas and Sam had worked back twenty years, rehashing family feuds and personal heartbreaks, trying to figure out how Jessica could have acted so irrationally.

  None of it was news to Jennifer. But Jen, being a lot closer to sainthood than she, heard her out like any dutiful angel would. Sam gave an inward grunt. Only this one walked and talked and offered unsolicited advice.

  Thank God.

  “C’mon,” Sam said, linking an arm through Jennifer’s. “I’m in the mood to buy something.”

  Jennifer hesitated, but only for a second. “My wallet is game!”

  “Good, because there’s a lingerie shop up ahead I need to hit.”

  “Lingerie? Good Heavens, why Sam? You own enough now to open your own shop! What on earth do you need with more?”

  “Very funny.” Sam faked a smile and hauled her forward. “My new man wants to see me in something fresh and exciting and you know me, I’m all sweets and accommodation when it comes to others.”

  Jennifer laughed as she tagged along. “No one would call you sweet or accommodating, Sam, but I am interested in hearing more about this new suitor of yours.”

  “What’s to tell?” Pleasure pulsated through her as she summarized, “He’s firecracker hot with sushi knife smarts and...he’s sweet.”

  “What?” Jennifer balked, pulling Sam to a halt with her. “A sweet man attracted to you? I don’t believe it.”

  It was Sam’s turn to laugh. “I know, but you know how the universe works—stranger things have happened!”

  Jennifer returned a glance virtually buzzing with curiosity. “I see...”

  “Let’s go ‘see’ somewhere productive,” Sam replied, and tugged her pal forward.

  When they arrived, Jennifer peered through the window, her eyes rounding. “Oh my, will you look at that?” She pointed to a next-to-nothing piece in sapphire blue.

  More see-through lace than concealing satin, Sam gaped at her friend. “Since when do you buy skimpy lingerie?”

  Jennifer visibly blushed. “I’m getting married, remember? And I discovered my man has a penchant for sexy underwear.”

  “And this is news to you? What man doesn’t want to see his woman spilling out of a tiny lace teddy? For that matter, any woman. It’s in the genes—” she gave a quick wink, “or jeans, if you know what I mean.”

  “Stop it.” Jen checked for eavesdroppers, her cheeks tinting red. “Let’s go inside.”

  “Before someone sees us, you mean?” Sam asked in her best conspiratorial tone, but couldn’t suppress her amusement. Jen could be such a prude when it came to the public eye.

  “No—before I throttle you.”

  Unaffected, she conceded. “Okay, I hear you, I hear you.”

  Sam swung the door open, instantly assaulted by an overwhelming potpourri of rose and dusky florals, scents she likened to Crabtree and Evelyn fragrance sachets, the kind her mother used to stuff in her underwear drawer.

  Most assuredly not her cup of chi.

  Adjusting her nose to the overpowering bouquet, she gave a polite smile to the heavyset woman behind the counter and meandered inside. Pretty, frilly, the décor was pure Victorian. Lovely, but why this industry insisted on associating a woman’s sexuality with a time period that prohibited the same, beat the hell out of her. Sam looked around. Embroidered mannequins, elegant paintings, there was not so much as a photograph of a real woman dressed in the sexy underwear.

  Men and women were getting together, no matter how you tried to pretend otherwise. Why not flaunt the body and stand proud?

  Jen began to peruse a front rack of blue lingerie, much like she had admired in the window. Sam opted for red. “What do you think about this little number?” She held up a shiny one-piece for inspection.

  “That it looks like the fifty other red outfits you own. Why don’t you try something new?”

  Sam was offended. “For starters, Vic’s favorite color on me is red. And second, are you insinuating that I’m boring and predictable?”

  “I’m only suggesting you try the element of surprise.”

  “Now you’re giving me advice on the fine art of seduction?”

  Jennifer shrugged and flipped back a smile. “Stranger things have happened,” she replied, and resumed browsing.

  Sam pushed the outfit back into place on the crowded rack and joined her friend in the blue section. “Maybe blue,” she said, feeling no attraction to the color whatsoever.

  “You sure do like him, that much is certain.”

  “Why? Because I take his taste into account when I buy lingerie? Hmph. I’m just looking for an excuse to buy.”

  “When do I get to meet him?”

  A flurry of nerves blew through Sam’s chest. “You don’t need to meet him.”

  “No?”

  “No. He’s a guy. Same as any other man I’ve dated. You’ve never felt the urge to meet them before.” Suspicion rolled through her. “Why now?”

  “Like you said, this one’s sweet. I’ve never seen you with sweet before. He sounds intriguing.”

  Sam’s nerves scurried up the back of her neck. “It was a comment in passing. Don’t put too much into it.”

  “And you don’t try to evade me.” Jen carried on in the most uncharacteristically nonchalant way. “I know better.”

  “Exactly what do
you know—or think you know?” Sam hoped she sounded demanding and not frantic, like the stage production of anxiety playing out throughout her body.

  “I know your voice changes every time you mention his name.”

  “It does not.”

  Metal hangers slid across the chrome bar as Jennifer rifled through them. “I know your eyes light up every time I mention his name.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She shuffled a few more and pulled one out for a gander. “I know you want to please him.” Turning it backward and forward, she scrutinized the one-piece in her hand. “Take his thoughts into consideration which is a sure sign of respect.”

  “You’re insane!” Sam’s laughter was hollow. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “And I know,” Jennifer said with an imperial flair, “that you only get defensive when I score a direct hit.”

  Sam’s throat grew rigid.

  “Tell me I’m not right.”

  “You’re not right.”

  Jennifer laughed lightly and shook her head in that infuriatingly maternal, know-it-all way. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sam.” She looked her in the eye and said softly, “There’s nothing wrong with caring for a man. Actually having feelings, originating from the heart and not the groin. I’m glad to hear it. In fact, I think it’s a refreshing change.”

  “I care about every man I date.”

  “Yes, but I’m talking about on a deeper, more personal level, as in having an investment past the bedroom door.”

  “I have no such thing.”

  “No?”

  “Not the kind you’re talking about.”

  Jennifer held the blue lace against her body. “What do you think about this one?”

  Sam had lost her enthusiasm for shopping. She tied her arms in a stiff knot across her chest, the lump in her throat becoming dry and uncomfortable. “You’re skirting the subject.”

  “As are you.” Jen tucked the lingerie under her arm and continued looking.

  “I’m doing nothing of the sort.”

  Jennifer stopped. “Sam Rawlings. You most certainly are and if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re in love.”

  “What?” Sam’s heart jumped into her throat, crowding the already tight space. She stepped back and said, “You are so far off-base you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do.” Jen challenged her with a clever smile. “And as to your lingerie selection,” she winked. “I think you should try white.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bathed in moonlight, Sam arched her naked body back within his arms and stretched out like a cat. Curtains pulled to one side, her skin was lit to creamy ivory perfection. Beautiful creamy ivory perfection, Vic thought. From the spread of her breasts to the flat of her stomach, Sam had everything he desired in a woman’s body. A body he wanted to taste, to savor, then exhaust beyond reason. He swiped his tongue around her breast, lingering along the plump curve, swirling around the nipple where he suckled her to a pebbly peak. Sam moaned and stretching further backward, sank her head into the pile of pillows stacked against the headboard.

  She squeezed her soft inner thighs around his torso and he could feel her wetness against his skin. His heart kicked up a beat. But what he found more attractive than her body was her free spirit, her confidence, and the things she could do with both. And that mind of hers. The thought zipped through, singeing his nerves with excitement.

  The two had been tested today. Things were not well with Dr. Pope, but Sam was giving him time. Leeway, to prove he could whip his witness into shape. If he couldn’t, she would discard the man like stale beer. But if he could, she would listen and follow and let Vic take the lead.

  One of the things he liked best about her was that Sam heard him out before just shutting him down. She gave him a chance. It was his to win or lose from there. And Scaliano. Sam was growing suspicious of his intentions, he could tell. It wouldn’t be long before his true connection to the man would be exposed—circumstance would necessitate full disclosure.

  Her fingers combed through his hair and pulled his face near. Vic nuzzled his face into the crevice of her neck. And when that happened, he’d have to tell all. Which he would. He would confess everything. But at the moment the scent of her faded perfume beckoned. Actually, it was the distinct smell of sex that dug into his arousal and pulled him to her—again. Discarding thoughts of work Vic crawled over top of her and her legs locked him against her. He smiled through the soft light and sought her ear, the wispy curls tickling his cheek. “You want more?”

  “I can’t seem to get enough of you,” she said, her reply husky and low.

  It was a sentiment he shared. They were a winning combination, he and Sam. Three orgasms and it wasn’t even midnight yet, this woman would have three more before dawn and three more in the morning. It was another thing he liked about her. Sam didn’t stop.

  Brushing auburn strands from her eyes, Vic feathered a kiss across her lips. It was a desire that matched his own. He wanted her. As much as he could get, he wanted her—in his bed, at the office, on his arm as they strolled along the beach… Whatever she would allow he would take. He knew this relationship was becoming more to him than sex, that Sam was becoming more to him than just a lover, but God help him, he couldn’t quit. His tongue slipped between her lips, slippery sweet, the inside of her mouth gently heated.

  Lust pulled at him. Sam Rawlings was like no other woman he had ever known and he was going to hold on to her for as long as he could. From the back of his mind, the temporary nature of his association with Baker, Schofield said different, but he didn’t dare listen. To do so would block the emotion coursing through his mind and body and dilute the intensity of feeling that heightened his sense of power and exhilaration.

  So he ignored it. Vic wanted to prolong the euphoria of reigning king over her body. Then she pushed her moist crotch into his and blood surged. Vic tried to concentrate on the kiss, the soft pleasure of her skin, her lips, but he couldn’t withstand the intense throbbing he felt as she reached up and around his shoulders and grabbed hold, grounding her hips into him. He was full staff, painfully erect. He needed release.

  Surrendering to need, Vic eased back and pulled her up and onto him, lowering her body to his. A wisp of breath escaped her lips in a rush and he groaned as the fragility of the sound ripped through him. Sam was a powerhouse, a woman of drive and aggression yet here she was, quivering beneath him. His chest thumped with exhilaration as her warm insides consumed him, sent shafts of pleasure deep into his abdomen. She may be a powerhouse but right now he felt the more powerful of the two.

  Steadying herself with hands to his shoulders, her hips swayed and he slowed. She writhed and he plunged. He persisted, intent on sending her to a climax that would drop her to her knees and when she was spent, when her muscles were reduced to shuddering, rubbery limp nothing, he would do it all again.

  “Vic, please...faster. I need it faster.”

  But he ignored her plea. In the veil of moonlight, in a room filled with desire and need he was going to take his time and make this the most memorable experience she ever had.

  Because she did the same for him. Each and every time. But when she started bucking her hips faster, harder, urgency overtook him. He tore away from her mouth and plunged himself deeper. Damn if she didn’t pump beneath him, forcing his speed to increase. Perspiration broke out across his body as she dug into his shoulders and cried out.

  “Yes! Yes!”

  Vic’s mind blurred to everything but the sensation of their bodies. Rocking together as one Sam was right there with him, matching him beat for beat. He felt the heat of her body, swore he could feel the pounding of her heart. Fast and furious the explosion was sharp, causing him to cry aloud before his body shuddered with spasm as he shot himself inside her. Then he collapsed flat into her, slick body to slick body in rapturous exhaustion.

  A few hours later dawn rolled in and with it, a satisfaction tant
amount to perfection. Head resting on Vic’s outstretched arm, Sam skimmed a light hand across the smooth mountain of his chest, over compact nipples, down the solid wall of his stomach. Vic was big. Very. And she realized she liked it. His size gave him an imposing air of strength, of masculinity. Add his gentle chivalry and fiery spirit and she had one irresistible combination. Lingering over the sole patch of hair that ran down from his belly button to his groin, she snuggled closer and tickled the sparse line of black curly hair.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Exploring.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call that un-charted territory.”

  “No, but there’s something new to be found in everything.”

  “Philosophizing again, are we?”

  Sam chuckled at his lazily spoken suggestion. “Just experiencing.”

  “You’re good at that.” Vic groaned as her hand ventured further south.

  “So are you.” She kissed the side of his chest and ran her finger along his thigh. “You’re an amazing lover.”

  “Because I’ve mastered all your hot buttons?”

  “Very funny.”

  Vic lifted his head and peered at her through thick black lashes. “And what was that move you pulled last night?”

  “Which one?” she asked, amused by his astonished tone.

  “The one where you stretched your leg to an unnatural length and then wrapped it around my neck.” He dropped his head back to the pillow. “How the hell do you do that?”

  Sam laughed again, pleasure swarming her insides. “I told you.” She encircled his belly with her fingertips. “Yoga is the key. It benefits every facet of your life.”

  “Then when are you going to teach me?” The arm beneath her moved to caress the rear of her hip. “You promised.”

  “When you’re ready, I’ll be happy to instruct you in the finer points of the practice.”

  “We’ll end up having sex, won’t we?”

  “With you, everything seems to end up in the same place.”