Run Wild With Me

by Sandra Chastain

  “Sam Farley here.”

  “Oh, Sam, I’m sorry about not telling you.” She hadn’t known what she’d say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Maybe we ought to talk about that, darlin’. Why don’t you come by tonight, and we’ll have some discreet conversation.”

  “Tonight?” Andrea couldn’t keep the breathlessness from her voice. “I don’t know, Sam. It isn’t—I don’t—I mean, you already know that I do. It’s …”

  “It’s been seven days, Andrea, and that’s six and a half too long for me. I could come into town if you’d rather.”

  “Ah, no. Maybe I’ll just drive out and see what you’ve done to the house.”

  A visit to see the progress on the house, that’s all it will be, she promised herself as she hung up the phone and went to the car. Nothing more. So he was repairing the house, becoming accepted in Arcadia, making friends. What did that mean?

  It meant that the hurt would be even greater when he left.

  Then why was she going to him?

  Because she wanted to see him again.

  Buck was ensconced in a chair under the plum tree, supervising. Otis and Brad Dixon were nailing Sheetrock on the new inside walls. A fresh coat of paint covered the rest of the house. On the roof Sam was standing upright, surveying the rusty tin.

  His hair had grown longer in the last week. It was banded into what Buck would call a ponytail, with damp ringlets curling all over his head in the sunshine. He hadn’t shaved in the last day or so, and his dark beard made him look like a member of a motorcycle gang. Across his forehead he’d tied a red bandanna.

  Glistening with perspiration, his thick mat of dark hair trailed across his chest and down into a pair of cutoff jeans slung wickedly low on his hips. As she got out of the car, she watched him lean down and pick up a leather carpenter’s apron, treating her to a suggestive view of a backside that was as lean and tanned as the chest and long legs he exposed to the sun.

  It was a pity he had to cover himself at all. It didn’t take much to imagine what was beneath that pair of formfitting cutoff jeans, and she felt a tingle of heat assault her that wasn’t caused by the sun. For a brief private moment she enjoyed her thoughts before Sam turned and caught her rapt expression.

  His lips rippled in amusement as he nodded his recognition of the open desire on her face. He hooked his fingers in his belt loops and waited. For a moment she was sorely tempted to start the car and drive away.

  And then Sam spoke. “Morning, darlin’. What do you think?”

  He wasn’t angry anymore. She didn’t know how she knew, but she did. “You’re making good progress,” she answered as calmly as she could, knowing that every eye had turned toward her.

  “Well, Andy,” Buck said, “it took you long enough to get out here.”

  “I … I was just going home to lunch and decided to drop by. The house looks good.”

  “Sam’s a fine worker. Takes real pride in his work.”

  “I see you’ve changed your opinion, Buck.”

  “Yes. Well, I thought to begin with that he wasn’t our kind of people. But, truth is, I’ve seen the sparkle in your eye since he’s come. I’d hoped that Ed would be the one to put it there, but I was wrong. When I saw how things were between you and Sam, I decided to give the boy a chance.”

  “No, Buck, you …,”—“you’re wrong,” Andrea started to say, then changed her mind. She’d lied to Buck once about David, and she’d sworn when she’d come back home that she’d never do that again. “I wish it had been Ed,” she finally admitted. “It would have been so much simpler.”

  “Love isn’t simple, Andy. And it isn’t easy. There are times when it hurts. But when it’s good, it’s worth any of the hurt, for as long as it lasts.”

  “For as long as it lasts.” That’s what Sam had said. Andrea risked one more look at the roof. Sam was standing on the edge, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as if he were waiting for her to ask him to come down.

  “Say, Buck,” Otis spoke up, “we’re gonna need more paint before we can do anything else. With the social tonight, maybe we’ll just knock off on any more work today.”

  Buck looked at Otis and back at Andrea. “You sure you’ll be all right here, Andy?”

  “No, but I might as well find out, Buck.”

  Buck looked at Sam and back at Andrea. “I guess I’m still just a father. I told you once that Sam reminds me a little of me. There was a time after your mother left when I might have hit the road if I hadn’t had you. I stayed, and I think Sam is thinking of staying too. He just doesn’t know it yet. Don’t let him hurt you, Andy.”

  “I think it may be too late for that, Buck.”

  “Maybe we’ll just run back later with the paint. So we’ll have it here tomorrow.”

  What Buck was saying was that she could have her time with Sam, but he’d be back later if she needed him. She nodded gratefully and watched him crawl awkwardly into the back of the Bronco.

  After Buck and Otis left, Andrea walked up on the porch. She might as well face Sam and get it over with. He might have played this kind of game everywhere he went, but it was new to her. Still, there was something to be said for honesty. Her mother and David had made promises that turned out to be lies. Sam wasn’t doing that. And maybe she wouldn’t lie to herself anymore either.

  Sam climbed down the ladder, came through the house, and met her in the hallway.

  Up close, the jeans were damp and pressed against him like a second sheet of wet satiny skin, outlining every part of what her mind had imagined earlier. Her lips parted as she followed the tattered edge of the jeans down his legs, taking in the muddy, laced-up, high-top work shoes and the stretched thick white socks that wrinkled around the muscular calves of his legs.

  “I’ve missed you, Sam. I thought you’d be angry with me.”

  “I was, until I realized why you didn’t tell me what Ed planned to do. You know how I would feel about the house being torn down. Nobody’s ever cared about that except my mother. I’m not mad anymore.”

  Andrea didn’t know what to say. She had been the one who’d been wrong, but it was Sam who was apologizing, Sam who was holding her with love in his eyes.

  She was so caught up in the fantasy of feeling that damp skin against her own that she didn’t answer. He was too close, and the feeling was too heady. This time she let it happen, the honest admission of her desire, the open response to the question he was asking without words. And when he kissed her, she didn’t hold back. The heat of the day was lost in the heat of two bodies melted together. Sam widened his stance, cupping his hands beneath her and lifting her roughly into the evidence of his need.

  Tearing his lips away, he looked down at her with wild-eyed intensity. “Lord, I’ve missed you, missed your prim schoolteacher reprimands, your stormy blue eyes when I kiss you, your shock when I touch your breasts. I’ve never wanted a woman so bad in my life, and it gets worse every time I see you all covered up in that man’s uniform,” he croaked, unbuttoning her shirt.

  “I know,” she murmured, reaching for the buttons on his jeans. “You’ve turned me into some wild creature that I don’t even know. And I don’t care. I want you too.”

  “No wait. Not here in the hall,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t want Buck and Otis as observers.”

  “Not to worry,” she said breathing heavily. “They’ve decided that everybody should knock off work for the day.”

  “You mean we’re going to be alone?”

  “For a while. They’re bringing the paint back later.”

  Sam groaned and reached for the clasp of her bra.

  “Wait, Sam, I have a better idea. Do you have a blanket?”

  He gulped. “Yes.”

  “Get it and come with me.” She pulled her shirt-front together and started out the door and across the porch.

  Sam disappeared into the house for a moment, then caught up with her, a
blanket under his arm. Beyond the sweet-gum tree he took her hand, looped it behind her back, and pulled her against him to kiss her again. She ripped the bandanna from his head, threading her fingers through his hot, wet hair as she felt his rough hand capture her breasts.

  “Not yet.” She pulled away breathlessly. “We aren’t there yet.”

  “I hope it isn’t far,” he said, relinquishing his hold on her breast as he allowed her to move again. “Otherwise I’ll never make it.”

  Past the sweet gum and behind the barn they moved, down a path of rich dark earth that gave way to the cool quiet of a pine thicket so dense that they were cut off from the world.

  “Here?” He questioned, swinging her around against him once more. There was a rippling sound that whispered through the quiet. The woods seemed to catch its breath, and Andrea felt dizzy as she fought to draw air into her lungs.

  “No.” She pulled away and ran forward. “Only a few more feet, to”—she pulled back a short stand of cedar trees and stepped beyond—“here.” She stopped and waited for him to take in the secret place she was sharing with him.

  In the center of the pine thicket a spring churned up from a wavy boulder-strewn hole in the earth. The water was mirror clear, dancing with the sparkle of bright sunlight that sifted through the trees. At the far end of the pool, the water spilled over a flat strip of mossy rock and ran off into the brush.

  Sam looked at the creek, then back at her with an expression of awe. Suddenly she was shy. She retreated, wondering where the passion had gone. Sam spread the blanket across the bed of pine needles and began to untie and remove his heavy work shoes and socks, exposing big feet that were several shades lighter than his legs.

  There was no turning back, and Andrea couldn’t understand her reluctance. For the past three weeks every time she’d closed her eyes, she’d seen him standing nude and aroused before her. There hadn’t been a man in her life since David, no matter what Ed Pinyon had led the world to believe. She waited, listening to the sound of the springwater boiling to the surface. She closed her eyes and wished he’d kiss her, wash away the panic that threatened her.

  “Come here, woman.”

  Andrea opened her eyes. He was standing before her, completely nude as she’d imagined him. His slow smile told her that he understood her hesitancy. “If it helps, I feel a little like a seventeen-year-old worrying about whether or not he can do what he’s supposed to do without making the girl laugh.” And then it was all right.

  Sweet sun-warmed kisses met her lips and teased her into that same seventeen-year-old feeling. Roughened fingertips fluttered across her shirt, turning her breasts into aching peaks. He slipped his hands beneath her pants, and slid them down to her ankles, where she stepped out of them.

  She expected an explosion of passion that would roar through them both. What she got was the slow tenderness of a gentle man, examining, touching with a spiritual wonder that swept away her last conscious reservation. The calluses on his palms acted as sandpaper against her nipples, and the erotic circle he traced on her abdomen sent fiery shock waves across her body. She was melting as the intensity of the heat of their love-making joined with the heat of the sun, creating a fiery sensation that threatened to erupt before either was ready.

  Sam drew her down beside him, pausing for a moment, breathing deeply to control that part of him impatient now to find its place inside her.

  Andrea heard the urgent beat of her heart pounding in rhythm with the rapid movement of a fat bumble bee hovering nearby, as though he were stunned by what he saw. Sam pressed her back against the blanket. The soft sweet smell of the yellow honeysuckle seemed to envelop them, and Andrea thought she’d never felt so at one with the earth.

  Then he moved over her, and she felt herself open to receive him. Slowly the miracle occurred as he filled her. At the same time the callused tip of one finger slipped between them, touching, coaxing until she was catapulted into orbit. In the blaze of glory that followed, she could hear him calling her name, over and over again, along with words that burned through her subconscious: “Andrea, my love, my love, my love.”

  As she drifted back to earth, he turned her face to his, tracing the little band of perspiration from her forehead with a finger. His eyes reflected his surprise, but his voice was warm and lazy, his breath a caress on her damp face.

  “I’ve made love to a few women in my time, Andrea, but that was special. You took everything I had to give and made it more than it ever was before. You wrung me dry, woman.” Sam paused, planting little kisses across her face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a long moment. “I guess that sounded crude. I didn’t mean it to be. I can do it, but I don’t know how to talk about making love to a woman. I’ve never done that before.”

  He outlined her bottom lip with his finger, leaning down and continuing the motion across her lips with his tongue. “Andrea, I have to know. I mean it’s a little silly to ask, but was it okay for us to make love?”

  “You’re right,” she said softly, “it is a little late. And I think you know that it was definitely okay.”

  “No, I mean, are you … was it safe? It’s never mattered much to me about that kind of thing. I figured most women know the score. But you … you’re different. I wouldn’t want …”

  “You wouldn’t want to leave me with a child?” Andrea felt the forest go quiet.

  “Oh, my Stormy lady,” he whispered, “I’d like nothing better than to give you a child. But I know what not having a father is like.”

  “And I know what not having a mother is like, Sam,” she answered with a lump in her throat. “It’s all right. I’m protected, though I don’t know why. You’re the first man I’ve …” She started to say “made love to,” then caught herself and changed her words to “slept with in a long time.”

  “Thank you for telling me that,” Sam said, capturing her lips in a kiss so tender that he couldn’t conceal the depth of his emotion. “You’re salty,” he teased finally, “and you’re too quiet for me to know how to deal with you.”

  He was still on top of her. She could feel the length of him along her body. He was magnificent, the most sensual man she’d ever known. And he’d just made love to her as he’d promised. And the earth had moved. And suddenly she accepted the truth. She’d wanted this as much as Sam. Once he left, the hurt wouldn’t be any less than the wanting would have been.

  “I might have done a lot of things, Sam,” she said with a newfound lilt in her voice, “but wringing you dry wasn’t one of them.”

  “Ah, you noticed.”

  All this was new to Andrea, and she gave herself over to the wild-looking stranger who had invaded her town and her mind. Everything about his touch was intoxicating until he reached over and casually dribbled icy springwater across her breasts.

  “Aiiiii!” she squealed, and rolled away from him, knowing what was coming next. She glanced at the water and back at Sam. He was going to do it, and she might just as well choose her own pace. Whirling away, she took a deep breath and jumped, steeling herself against the icy reception that awaited her. The explosion of water that followed her was the signal that Sam was right behind her. Breaking the surface, she gasped for air, feeling the icy prickles shoot through her.

  “Wow, lady. What do I need a refrigerator for when I have this?” He shook his head, slinging the water across her neck and shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me it was melted ice?”

  “Pure artesian water. The town’s drinking water comes from another one just like it south of town. Purest drinking water in the South. Have some.” Andrea treaded water, trying to adjust her body to the temperature. She still jumped when Sam reached out and drew her to him.

  Andrea looked down into the crystal-clear pool and watched the shimmering image of the two of them. The skin that had been covered by his cut-offs was the same pale color as his feet. With her finger she traced the line of color at his waist. The same lighter shade was evident on her where her
bikini bottoms had been when she’d sunbathed earlier in the spring. “Look, we match. But I’m losing my tan,” she observed, comparing their skin, “since I’ve had to spend so much time indoors on police work.”

  “That’s not the only place we match.” He slipped his knee between her leg and pressed against her.

  Andrea felt an answering tingle beneath his tough. “A police officer always gets her man, but I think this cold water might slow things down a bit.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been told that south Georgia is a pretty hot place, Officer Fleming.”

  “ ‘Officer Fleming’! Good heavens, Sam. I walked away from the CB without checking out with Agnes. That was at least an hour ago.”

  “Relax. I had a quick talk with Agnes on my way down from the roof and through the house.”

  “But suppose somebody needed me.”

  “Someone did,” Sam said slowly, drawing her back into his arms. “Someone still needs you.”

  But reality had intruded, and the magic had gone out of the moment. She’d allowed herself to forget everything but the black-eyed gypsy who was holding her. She’d wanted to forget. But suddenly she couldn’t. Suppose Buck was back?

  “Let me go, Sam.” She jerked frantically away and scrambled out of the pool. The heat hit her like a hammer, and she didn’t have to worry about not having a towel to dry off before she dressed.

  Before Sam could begin to get his boots on, Andrea was flying back through the woods to the house. She couldn’t believe what she’d done, giving herself to Sam in the middle of the day in the woods, neglecting her duty. Charging out of the pine thicket, she ran across the field and around the barn to the patrol car.

  “Enjoy your swim?” Buck looked at Andrea, the slight trace of a frown telling his concern.

  Andrea took a deep breath and raised her eyes in confusion. “I’m sorry, Buck. Have I had any calls?”

  She didn’t see Brad, but Otis suddenly began hammering wildly. If he was really hitting a nail, it was either ten inches long or only every other lick was connecting. Buck glanced up. Sam was coming down from the orchard, carrying his boots in his hand, his dark hair curling damply on his head.