A Piece of Texas Trilogy

by Peggy Moreland

  She flopped to her side and punched her pillow beneath her check, silently cursing him for telling her about the stupid condoms. If he’d kept quiet about his purchase, she wouldn’t be thinking about him right now. Or sex, either, for that matter. She’d be asleep and not twisting and turning in frustration.

  She heard a rustle of movement at the door and lifted her head. With the blinds shut tight to block the moonlight, the room was pitch-black, making it impossible for her to see so much as her hand in front of her face. She squinted hard, and her breath froze in her lungs when she saw a shadowed form moving across the room. She considered screaming, but before she could shape the sound, the sheet lifted and the shadow slipped into her bed. Though she still couldn’t see, there was no mistaking the feel of the body that cuddled up against hers.

  “Sam?” she whispered in disbelief.

  His lips spread across hers in a smile. “Is this spontaneous enough for you?”

  She wanted to laugh at his outrageousness, weep at his thoughtfulness in providing her the spontaneity she’d said was missing, but shivered instead as he slid his hands beneath the hem of her silk teddy.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she said, “Perfect.”

  He stroked his hands slowly up and down her back as they kissed, and she shivered again as nerves danced to life along her spine.

  Needing a connection, an anchor, she twined her legs with his and was shocked when her toes met bare skin. “You’re naked,” she said, wondering if he’d traipsed through her house in that state.

  Smiling, he bumped his nose against hers. “You will be, too, in a minute.”

  Smoothing his hands up her back, he dragged her teddy up and over her head, dropped it over the side of the bed. He settled his hands at her waist. “Halfway there,” he teased.

  Laughing, she lifted her hips, making it easier for him to peel off her tap pants, then snuggled close, weaving her legs through his again. “You’re full of surprises tonight, Forrester.”

  “I may have one or two more up my sleeve.” Lying opposite her, he cupped his hand around her breast. “If I remember correctly, your breasts are a turn-on for you.”

  He flicked a thumb over her nipple, and a low guttural moan slipped past her lips.

  “Yeah,” he murmured and dipped his head to catch the nipple between his teeth. Tugged. “That’s the sound I remember.”

  Desire shot through her, piercing her belly, and spread to a deep, aching throb between her legs. “Oh, Sam,” she groaned.

  He opened his mouth over her breast and sucked her in. Weakened by the sensations that whipped through her, she filled her fingers with his hair and clung. “Oh, Sam.”

  He lifted his head and pressed his mouth to hers. “There you go again. Stretching my name into two syllables instead of one.” He hitched himself higher on the bed. “Feel that?” he asked as he rocked his hips against hers. “That’s what hearing you do that does to me.”

  Satin and steel. Those were the only two words she could think of to describe the feel of his erection rubbing against her groin. But then he slipped a hand between her legs and she lost all ability to think.

  “You’re hot,” he whispered as he pushed a knuckle along her fold. “And wet.”

  She clamped her knees together, all but coming apart at his fingers’ teasing. “Sam—” She swallowed, her mouth dry as dust, then wet her lips, prepared to beg if necessary.

  He saved her that humiliation by sliding a hand down her thigh and drawing her leg up and over his. Anticipation quivered beneath her skin as he pushed his hips against hers, forcing himself between her legs. Every nerve in her body seemed centered on that one spot, tingling and burning with expectancy, with need. Closing her eyes, she arched her hips, and the tip of his shaft nudged her opening.

  The pressure was so erotic, so unbelievably pleasurable that she arched again, a silent plea for more. “Sam,” she whispered, barely recognizing her voice for the huskiness in it. “I want you. Now.”

  “Wait a sec.”

  She nearly screamed in frustration when he moved away and stretched to pluck something from the nightstand.

  She heard the crinkle of foil and knew he was opening the condom package and rolling the protection into place.

  “Okay,” he said on a sigh and dragged her leg back over his. “Where were we?” Before she could tell him, he pressed his lips to hers and pushed inside, stealing her breath.

  Jerking her mouth from his, she dropped her head back on a low moan as her body pulsed around him, then softened to accommodate him.

  He moved his hips against hers, his shaft spearing deeper and deeper inside her with each slow thrust. Instinctively she followed his movements, meeting the rhythm he set and demanding a faster pace of her own.

  Pressure built inside her, a smothering heat that slicked her skin, stripped much-needed oxygen from the air. She wanted to scream her frustration, beg for this moment to go on and on, weep at the glorious feel of him filling her so completely.

  His breathing ragged, he closed a hand around her breast. She heard the low growl that built from deep inside him, felt the quiver of his legs against hers, the tension that strained his body, and gave herself up to the explosion of sensation that rocked through her body. Desperate to squeeze every nuance of pleasure from the experience, she grasped his buttocks in her hands and held him to her, letting him send her higher, higher still.

  Like a leaf drifting in the wind, she floated slowly down, melting against him. She inhaled one deep, cleansing breath, then opened her eyes to find his gaze on hers. Awed by his rugged handsomeness as much as by what she’d just experienced, she touched a finger to his cheek to make sure she hadn’t been dreaming. “Wow,” she said, releasing the breath on a shuddery sigh.

  Smiling, he brought her hand to his lips. “Yeah. Wow.”

  She snuggled close. “Tell me—do Boy Scouts have a badge for something like this?”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Pursing her lips in a sympathetic pout, she tucked her head in the curve of his shoulder. “That’s too bad. You definitely would’ve earned yours.”

  Leah awakened slowly, vaguely aware of a slight soreness between her legs. Remembering the cause for the discomfort, she smiled and reached a hand out in search of Sam.

  When her fingers met only cool sheets, she lifted her head and looked around. Finding herself alone, she dropped her head back to her pillow, telling herself it was best he’d left without waking her, saving them both the dreaded morning-after awkwardness.

  In spite of her reassurance, tears of disappointment filled her eyes.

  Refusing to give in to them, she threw back the covers and climbed from the bed. Just as she started down the stairs, she caught a whiff of what smelled like coffee brewing. Quickening her step, she hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she found Sam standing before the stove.

  “You’re still here,” she said in surprise.

  He glanced over his shoulder, a brow lifted in question. “Was I supposed to leave?”

  “No. No. It’s just that…well, when I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I assumed you’d gone back to the apartment.”

  Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the stove. “It’s that internal alarm clock of mine. It’s set for five, and I’ve never figured out how to shut the dang thing off.”

  Relieved to know it wasn’t regrets that had made him leave her, she crossed to see what he was cooking. “Pancakes?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yep. Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  He shifted the spatula to his opposite hand and slid his arm around her waist. “Me, too. Guess we worked up a pretty good appetite last night, huh?”

  Reminded of her almost insatiable desire for him, she blushed to the roots of her hair. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

  He dipped his head to nuzzle her ear. “I believe I could go another round or two without dying of hunger. Ho
w about you?”

  She drew back to look at him, sure that he was teasing. When she saw the heat in his eyes, she melted against his chest with a smile. “I’m willing to chance it if you are.”

  Later that morning, Sam paused beneath the automotive store’s awning to put on his sunglasses, thinking what a wild night of sex could do for a man’s energy level. With only a couple of hours’ sleep the night before, he felt as if he could wrestle a grizzly to the ground and make him cry uncle.

  Chuckling, he stepped out onto the sidewalk but stopped again when a car full of teenagers pulled up at the red light, rap music blasting so loud the bass made his teeth ache.

  “They’ll be deaf before they hit thirty,” he grumbled, then frowned when he saw a cigarette being passed around. “If they live that long.”

  With a woeful shake of his head, he started for the parking lot where he’d left his truck but stopped short and slowly turned back around, sure that he’d recognized one of the boys in the backseat.

  “Craig?” he said, praying he was wrong.

  Setting his jaw, he strode to the car and yanked open the rear door.

  “Hey!” Craig cried and grabbed for the handle.

  Sam stepped into the opening and bodily dragged the boy from the car.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Craig cried, trying to wrench free. “Get your hands off me.”

  “Leave him alone,” the driver of the car yelled.

  Sam burned the driver with a look. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of here before I call the cops and report you for truancy.”

  The kid must have believed him, because he peeled out before the other passenger in the backseat had time to shut the door.

  Sam turned his anger on Craig. Seeing the cigarette that dangled from the boy’s fingers, he snatched it from him and threw it down on the sidewalk. “Don’t you know these things will kill you?” he said as he ground the cigarette out beneath his boot.

  “Gonna die someday,” Craig said arrogantly. “One way’s as good as any other.”

  “If you believe that, you’re dumber than you look.”

  “Are you calling me dumb?”

  “I said you look dumb.” Sam pointed a stiff finger at the crushed cigarette. “Especially when you’re holding one of those.” He narrowed an eye at Craig. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

  Craig ducked his head, shrugged. “So I cut a few classes. Big deal.”

  “You’re going to think big deal when your aunt finds out.”

  Craig snapped up his head, his eyes filled with dread. “You’re gonna tell her?”

  “Nope,” Sam informed him. “You are.” Taking the boy by the arm, he hustled him toward the truck. “But first you and I are going to pay a visit to your school principal.”

  Lying beneath the Mustang, Sam turned the wrench, tightening the last bolt on the new muffler he’d installed. Beyond him, the whirr of the lawn mower’s engine assured him that Craig hadn’t gone AWOL again.

  The trip to the school had been an eye-opener for Sam. He still couldn’t believe the punishment for skipping school these days was a few lousy hours of detention. The one and only time he had cut school, he’d gotten three licks for every class he’d missed. Three hard licks delivered by the baseball coach, who had spent some time in the minor leagues and had the swing to prove it. Sam hadn’t been able to sit down for a week.

  With a rueful shake of his head, he gave the tailpipe a tug, testing its stability, then pushed his boot heel against the drive and rolled the creeper from beneath the car. Standing, he dragged a rag from his back pocket and wiped his hands as he watched Craig make another sweep around the backyard. The lawn-mowing duty had been Sam’s idea, one he figured would keep the kid busy and out of trouble until Leah got home from work.

  And judging by the deep grooves that creased the boy’s forehead, it appeared Craig wasn’t looking forward to his aunt’s arrival.

  With a glance at his wristwatch, Sam decided to call it a day and began picking up his tools. Though it would have been a lot easier to leave everything out, he’d made a few concessions in his work habits in order to pacify Leah’s concerns about him turning her home into a junkyard. The first order of business had been constructing a canopy over the car to shade it—and him—during the hottest portion of the day. Second on his list had been the placement of a tarpaulin beneath the car to protect the driveway from any oil and fluid spills. The last concession he’d come up with—actually a time-saver for him—was storing the most frequently used tools in the car’s trunk.

  And he hadn’t made those concessions because he’d slept with Leah, he assured himself. It had simply taken him a while to figure out a compromise that would satisfy them both.

  After depositing in the Mustang’s trunk the tools he’d used that day, he stepped out into the yard to survey the work area he’d created. All in all, it wasn’t too bad a setup, he decided. Leah would probably still consider it an eyesore, but she’d just have to deal. He’d done all he intended to do to appease what he considered her anal need for perfection.

  Hearing a car door slam, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as Leah climbed from her SUV. He felt the stirring of desire in his groin and grinned, thinking of the night ahead.

  She strode beneath the breezeway, her gaze fixed on the canopy. “Wow. Somebody’s been busy.”

  Though he was a little disappointed she found the canopy more interesting than him, he turned to admire his handiwork. “You didn’t want me working on the car out front, and I couldn’t take the heat in the garage.” He lifted a hand, indicating the canopy. “This is the compromise I came up with.”

  She walked around the perimeter of the structure, studying it closely. “You put this up by yourself?”

  “Craig helped. He held the canvas in position while I secured it to the poles.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Craig helped?”

  “Yep.” He nodded toward the backyard, where Craig was working. “He’s mowing the yard, too.”

  She turned to peer at her nephew. “I can’t believe this. I’ve asked him a zillion times to mow the yard and he always has an excuse.” She glanced at Sam. “How in the world did you get him to do it?”

  He buffed his nails on his chest and preened. “Oh, I have my ways.”

  “Well, don’t be selfish. Share them with me. Nothing I’ve tried has ever worked.”

  Craig mowed the last strip and turned the mower toward the garage. When he spotted Leah standing with Sam, he stumbled a step, gulped, then pushed on, keeping his head down to avoid her gaze.

  “Hi, Aunt Leah,” he mumbled.

  Smiling, she ruffled his hair. “Hi, yourself. And thanks for mowing the yard. I really appreciate it.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “No big deal.”

  “I’ll put that away for you,” Sam offered and took the mower from Craig. “You go on into the house with your aunt. I’m sure y’all have things to talk about.”

  His shoulders drooping, Craig nodded and turned for the house.

  Leah looked at Sam in confusion. “What was that all about?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Leah tried her best to keep her anger in check as she listened to Craig’s explanation. When he finished, she sat in silence for a long moment, unsure what to say for fear whatever she said would distance her nephew even further.

  “Does your mother know about this?” she asked.

  “No. Just you. And Sam.”

  She curled her hand into a fist in her lap, curbing the desire to comb his hair back from his eyes so she could see his face.

  “You said that Sam took you to see the principal.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered sourly. “I got slammed with two weeks of detention.”

  A mild punishment, in her estimation, but she wasn’t about to share her opinion with Craig.

  “When do you begin serving them?”

  “Monday
. Seven-thirty to eight-thirty every day for two whole weeks.”

  She firmed her lips at his resentful tone. “Ten hours spent studying certainly won’t hurt your grades any.”

  He tucked his chin closer to his chest at the mention of his downward-spiraling grades.

  A horn beeped outside, and Leah glanced toward the front of the house, knowing it was Patrice. She turned to face Craig again. “Are you going to tell your mom about this?”

  He lifted a shoulder, dropped it. “She’s so wigged-out all the time, she probably wouldn’t even hear me if I did.”

  Leah made a decision that she hoped wouldn’t come back to haunt her. Reaching across the table, she covered her nephew’s hand with her own. “Let’s just keep this between us for now.”

  “Whatever.”

  The horn beeped again and Craig dragged himself to his feet. “I better go.” He hitched his backpack over his shoulder and turned to leave.

  In the doorway he hesitated a moment, and she held her breath, praying that he’d say I’m sorry or something that would indicate he regretted what he’d done. But he stepped outside, letting the door close behind him, without uttering a word.

  Leah watched him leave, her heart breaking. He looked so much like Kevin had at that age. Legs too long for his body. Hair long and shaggy. Eyes that harbored a sadness that nothing could reach. Like his father, Craig had no mother to turn to for comfort and reassurance. In her own way, Patrice was as oblivious to her son’s needs as Leah and Kevin’s mother had been to theirs.

  Tears filled her throat and she dropped her forehead to her folded arms, willing them back. Crying wouldn’t bring Kevin back or absolve her fears for Craig. She’d shed enough over the years to know they were nothing but a waste of time.

  “Leah?”

  She lifted her head and found Sam standing in the doorway. She quickly scraped her hands across her cheeks and rose, not wanting him to see that she’d been crying. “Craig told me what happened this morning.”

  His expression somber, he stepped inside. “I was hoping he would.”