Resisting Samantha (Hope Parish Novels Book 10)

by Zoe Dawson

  With the fullness in my chest expanding, I just held her. She was so damn vulnerable. And I wasn’t sure how I was going to get us out of this without it becoming a complete wreck. I was so close to the edge that it wouldn’t take a whole hell of a lot to push me over. And she felt so good, and smelled so good, and damn, I wanted to feel her flush against me, skin to skin.

  Unable to control the urge, I widened my stance a little, pressing her against the hard ridge of flesh, turning my face against her neck and gritting my teeth. I hoped she was so far out of it that she wouldn’t notice the state I was in.

  I promised her slow, and by God she’d get slow.

  But she was well aware of my state. She went still in my arms, then she made a low, needy sound and twisted her head, her mouth suddenly urgent against mine. The bolt of pure, raw sensation knocked the wind right out of me. I shuddered, and widened my mouth against hers, feeding on the need that shifted back and forth between us. She made another wild sound and clutched at me, the movement welding our bodies together like two halves of a whole, and I nearly lost it right then. But the taste of tears cut through my senses, and I dragged my mouth away from hers, my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

  Dammit, I was an asshole. She was an emotional wreck, and she didn’t know what she was doing—she was just reacting, reaching for comfort. And it was dangerous. There was too much I wanted, and I still wasn’t sure how much she could give. And how could I give her a future when I hadn’t dealt with my past?

  Trying to regain some control, I held her tighter. Inhaling jaggedly, I nestled her head closer, turning my face against hers. “Easy,” I whispered against her hair. “Easy, darlin’. We’re okay.”

  “We are,” she whispered. “I want you, Chase. So much.” Her arms locked around me, she choked out my name; then she moved against me, silently pleading, pleading with her body—and any connection I had with reason shattered into a thousand pieces.

  The feel of her heat against me was too much, and I gritted my teeth, my entire body clenching with the surge of desire. I caught her around the hips, welding her against me. God, I needed this—the heat of her, the weight of her. I needed her.

  Sam made another low sound, then she inhaled raggedly and pulled herself up against my arousal, her voice breaking on a low sob of relief. “Chase. Don’t say no. Please. I know what I want.”

  She moved against me again, and I tightened my hold even more, unable to stop as I involuntarily responded. Suddenly there was no turning back.

  Shifting her head, I covered her mouth with a deep, scorching kiss, and she opened to me, her mouth moving against mine with urgent hunger. It was too much—and not nearly enough, and I lifted her higher and caught her behind the knee, dragging her leg around my hip. One twist and my dick was flush against her core. Grasping her buttocks, I thrust against her again and again, a low groan wrenched from me as she moved with me, riding me, riding the thick ridge jammed against her. But that wasn’t enough, either. I nearly went ballistic, certain I would explode if I didn’t get inside her.

  Making incoherent sounds against my mouth, Sam twisted free, and a violent shudder coursed through me when I felt her hand slip between cotton and my burning skin. The instant she touched my throbbing erection, I groaned out her name and let go of her, frantic to rid us both of the barrier of clothes.

  “Condom,” I croaked.

  “No need. Pill,” she gasped out.

  Somehow I got her pants off, and somehow I got her shirt over her head, but the instant she stroked me, I lost it completely. I held her close as I pivoted and dropped onto the bed, with her beneath me. On the verge of release, I dragged her legs around my hips, gazing into her eyes while I thrust into her, unable to hold back one second longer. The feel of her closing around me, tight and wet, drove the air right out of my lungs, the sensation so intense, I couldn’t move.

  Sam sobbed out my name and locked her legs around me, her movements urging me on, and I crushed her against me, white-hot desire rolling over me. Angling my arms across her back, I drove into her again and again, pressure building and building. A low, guttural sound tore from me, and I pulsated forcefully, coming deep inside her in a blinding rush that went on and on, so powerful I felt turned inside out. I wanted to let it roll over me, to take me under, but I forced myself to keep moving in her, knowing she was on the very edge. She cried out and clutched at my back, then went rigid in my arms while she finally convulsed around me, the gripping spasms wringing me dry.

  My heart hammering, my breathing so labored I felt almost dizzy, I weakly rested my head against hers, my whole body quivering. I felt like I’d been wrenched in two and hammered back together in a blacksmith’s forge.

  Hauling in an unstable breath, I kissed her on the neck, a feeling of overwhelming protectiveness rising up in me.

  I needed to get us under the covers, but I couldn’t let go of her yet. I had to wait for the knot of emotion to ease. With slow deliberation, I smoothed my hand up her back. “Hang on for a minute,” I whispered hoarsely.

  She nodded once and tightened her arms and legs around me. I withdrew my arms from around her back, gritting my teeth when she pressed her full breasts against my chest while I rolled and settled her on top of me, shuddering as she took me deeper inside her.

  Swamped with a rush of emotion, I nestled her tighter against me and closed my eyes, slipping my hand over the fullness of her breast, rubbing her taut nipple with my thumb. She gasped and rose a bit, just enough for me to get my mouth on her, sucking hard while she pushed her hips against my groin.

  She tasted like heaven, sweet and redolent of woman, and my tongue thirsted for more.

  I looked up at her sweet face, and my throat closed up when she opened her eyes, swallowing hard, clearly struggling with her own raw emotions.

  I covered her mouth with a soft, searching kiss, hands roaming over her curves. “Give it to me,” I demanded, feeling raw.

  Her breath caught, but she yielded to the pressure of my thumb, and I adjusted the alignment of my mouth against hers, deepening the kiss with slow, lazy thoroughness. Working my mouth softly, slowly, against hers, I drank from her, probing the moist recesses, savoring her taste. Her breath caught again; then she finally responded, and I grasped the back of her head, her hair tangling like silk around my fingers. My chest tightening, I cupped her breast again, pinching her nipple, and the rigid tension was back.

  She raked my stomach all the way down to the base of my shaft, sparking an electrifying weakness which radiated through my lower body. She did it again, and I groaned, my hips moving. I tightened my hold on her hair, feeling my dick harden inside her.

  Dragging my mouth away from hers, I sucked her nipple into my mouth again, tracing the taut nub with the tip of my tongue. Her breathing grew ragged and uneven, and I shifted to the other delicious breast.

  A soft sob wrenched from her, and she cupped the side of my face, her thumb rubbing hard over my unshaven cheek. My own breathing suddenly ragged, I caught her around the hips and rolled, drawing her under me. Shifting my weight so I was anchored deep inside her, I braced my weight on my elbows, kissing her mouth with a thoroughness that made my own heart stammer.

  I flexed my hips and she rose up to meet me, tightened her muscles around me, and my mind clouded with desire.

  I was a goner.

  There would be no more resisting Samantha.

  Chapter 9

  SAMANTHA

  I woke up suddenly, sharply awake, my heart pounding, tentacles of fear leaving me cold and shaking. But it wasn’t that unknown fear that had driven me out of sleep, it was the anxiety of not knowing how to handle the situation with Chase.

  I was snuggled up against him, his arm around my shoulder, his big hand in the center of my back and the other cupping my head. My hands rested against his chest, every cell aware of the comforting warmth and hardness of his big, male body, my own breathing synchronized with the even rise and fall of his chest. It was very ea
rly morning. I could still hear the rain coming down in torrents.

  It brought back yesterday, standing in the street, my chest heaving and my lungs on fire. After missing my chance, I didn’t know how long I stood there. Long enough for my breathing to level out and my mind to clear. Between the trembling and the sick dread, I tried to shut my mind off.

  I’d gone back to my car, emerging into the full force of the wind-driven rain, the heavy drops pelting against my face and running down my neck. Suddenly I remembered that harrowing night and the hate and vengeance in Kyle Mayhew’s eyes. I started to run.

  So much came back to me after chasing down that car and thinking maybe Kyle Mayhew was in Suttontowne. It had dredged up everything I thought I’d managed to come to terms with. But this uneasiness wouldn’t go away. I knew if this…thing…with Chase was something casual, something shallow and physical, I wouldn’t be having this panic attack.

  Chase shifted, his breathing changing for a second, then even again. He must be dreaming. I absorbed the feel of him against me, my leg between his, his scratchy stubble and soft lips against my forehead, his breath feathering my hair.

  It would be easy to just have sex and skip all the anxiety surrounding it. I wondered if my need to simply lose myself in his heat in the bathroom had caused my meltdown, or if it had been something deeper, something much more basic.

  But then why had the trip over here been a jumble of rain and the compelling need to see him? It wasn’t until I turned onto his gravel road that I realized I had no recollection of leaving Suttontowne, of passing Imogene’s, of making the turn onto the secondary paved road. Nothing. I remembered nothing. Except driving as fast as I dared, and the feeling of being watched tingling along the back of my neck, one that hadn’t left me, hovering nearby, ever since I saw AnnClaire’s ghost.

  I shied away from even thinking about having those kinds of feelings for Chase. I’d vowed I wouldn’t ever lose my heart the way I had with Jeff, but Chase was proving to be almost impossible to deny. On some level, for most of the past two years, I must have realized it would be like this between us.

  His noble actions still made my heart ache. Denying me in my frantic attempt to get comfort, he refused to take advantage of me, and maybe I had been trying to put what we felt for each other on that basic level. But when he said, Not like this, Sam, his words and the bleak look in his eyes had done terrible things to my already raw emotions and driven it home. I was responsible for that look, and it had upset me. It still upset me.

  Chase didn’t deserve that from me.

  He deserved to have someone who was completely committed, and I just wasn’t sure I could go down that road. Give him everything, and open myself to being annihilated again. It also wasn’t fair to keep him in the dark about it.

  I basked in the comfort of his arms and his breathing for a moment; then, careful not to disturb him, I eased up on one elbow and looked down at him. I raked my hair back, a strange kind of protectiveness unfolding in me as I gazed down at his handsome face, so peaceful in sleep.

  Most of his body was covered, the sheet resting against his ribcage. The dim light he’d left on in the bathroom illuminated his deeply tanned skin, the shadow and light defining the hard ridges of muscle across his shoulders and torso.

  The normal tough angle of his jaw was relaxed, the stubble accentuating his full, smooth, and oh-so-kissable lips.

  Careful not to disturb him, I sent my fingers feathering through the tawny abundance of his hair. With a catch in my heart, I thought about how easily this man anchored me. Absently fingering the silky texture of Chase’s hair, I glanced over at the window and froze. Had something moved? A chill tingle sliding down my spine, every sense on full alert, I stared at the darkened window, the grey and black of the bayou beyond obscured by the heavy condensation.

  Nothing moved, and I slowly relaxed. God, I was losing it.

  I slipped to the edge of the bed and grabbed my clothes, dressing with a minimum of noise, not wanting to wake Chase. Moving as silently as possible, I went to the window and, gathering my courage, looked out.

  Nothing moved in the rain-soaked darkness, and I could see it was just before dawn. I drew the shades and curtains. Pausing by the bed, I gazed down at him, a new wave of protectiveness stirring in me. Needing to touch him, I very carefully drew the sheet over him and trailed the back of my fingers over his scratchy jaw.

  Leaving the bedroom, I silently closed the door. The house was still and quiet, the faint tinkle of chimes the only sound besides the wind. I went to my purse and pulled out my cell. Settling into the comfortable cushions of his overstuffed slate gray couch, I pressed numbers, the sound of my phone beeping loudly. I could only hope the beeps wouldn’t wake Chase, and that the call would go through in spite of the weather.

  It connected and started to ring on the other end.

  “Bonneville, 12th Precinct.”

  “Theresa? This is Samantha Wharton.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. A blast from the past,” she said, her voice filled with pleasure. “How’s my old partner doing?”

  “Pretty well,” I said, filling in an abbreviated history of what had happened since I left New York City.

  “We wondered,” she said solemnly. “After a tragedy like yours, it’s best to make a fresh start.” I squeezed my eyes shut at the sympathy in her voice.

  “You were there for me, and I’ll never forget that, Theresa. It was…I needed to get away.”

  “I know, sweetheart, and we understood. I was just concerned about you, and wondering how you’ve been doing all this time.”

  “I appreciate it, but this isn’t exactly a call to catch up. I need some information.”

  I could feel her concern through the line. “Is everything all right?”

  “No. I think I saw Kyle Mayhew yesterday.”

  “That sonofabitch is out? When?”

  “I was hoping you could check for me.”

  “Sure, hang on.” I heard some typing, the minutes feeling like hours, and then she said with a sigh, “Good news. He’s still at Rikers as of yesterday.”

  I sagged in relief. “I thought so, but I only caught a glimpse of the guy, and I thought it might be him.”

  “Hey, he shot me, and I have the scar to prove it. He would have killed me if it wasn’t for you, Sam. I’ll never forget that. You ever need anything, you let me know.”

  A bad case of the shakes hit me after I hung up, closing my eyes tightly and dropping my head against the back of the couch. God, I had been so scared. So damned scared. Determined not to let fear overwhelm me, I made myself take deep, steadying breaths, making my muscles relax.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” Chase demanded roughly. He startled me and my eyes shot open to find him rumpled, frowning, and dressed only in those sexy, clinging sweatpants.

  The weight of him displaced me slightly as he sat next to me. His worried face was only inches from mine. He looked ready to do battle. Something gave way around my heart, and I felt almost too raw to speak. I reached out and caressed his face.

  His jaw relaxed beneath my touch, and without any warning my eyes filled up. “Everything is fine. I just called my old partner, and she confirmed that Kyle is still locked up.” I fought to contain my tears. “It was a false alarm. I should have just done that yesterday afternoon and saved you all this drama.”

  Chase shifted, then he cupped my jaw, lifting my face. “I like that you came to me. You can always come to me, Samantha.”

  I looked at him, my eyes awash with tears, and Chase trailed his knuckles across my cheek, then brushed at my hair. His expression tender, he curled a strand around his fingers, then met my gaze. Releasing a long, shaky sigh, he pulled me onto his lap, gathering me up in a tight, encompassing hug.

  “Thank you for last night,” I murmured. “I’m sorry about…losing control. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He released me and rose. “You didn’t. I just didn’t want you to do someth
ing out of fear and regret it later.”

  “No, I couldn’t regret being with you. It was—”

  He set his hands on his hips. “Amazing and mind-blowing, all rolled into an awesome ball of soul-shattering pleasure? When can we do it again?”

  I laughed, then sobered.

  He opened the cupboard and took down two mugs, one with a gator on it and the other with a bass. “Ought-O. She’s laughing at me, and I don’t really like that face.”

  Sensing how exposed he was right now, and knowing how much he was risking, I rose and went into the kitchen. Wrapping my arms around him from behind, I kissed his neck, pressing my weight against him. I didn’t know why, but the huskiness in his voice made me want to cry. My connection with him was unique, once in a lifetime, the second time around. I had to face myself head-on, and if I didn’t let go of my pain and my fear, I would die inside. If I couldn’t love again, it would be like dying. But I needed time to regain my strength, to find the courage to fight for this.

  “I want more with you than I have ever wanted with another man.” I pressed my face into his back and breathed deeply of his firm, smooth skin. I could feel the tension in him. “I’m still struggling, working through all my crap. We’re together. We mutually agree that we have mind-bending sex, and you love pie. So I have that going for me. How about we continue along this crazy course?”

  The tension left him, and he turned around to face me. “Where do I sign up for this rollercoaster of awesome?”

  I pointed to my mouth and he pressed his lips against mine. “Signed, sealed and delivered,” he whispered.

  The sound of someone on his porch made me stiffen.

  “It’s just the mail,” he said, untangling my hair with gentle strokes.

  “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Nope, the smell of coffee.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice when he answered. “See, it’s not just pie you have going for you.”