His darkness froze her for a moment. That strong jaw and flaring nose, the deep intensity of his eyes that threatened to see too much. She suddenly felt full. Full of a feeling that she couldn’t understand. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt while at the same time, like something she’d only dared dream of. Her heart pounded and her mouth watered. Sam brought her hand up to touch his brow as he leaned in toward her so tenderly her breath caught.
She pulled back as if burned and he stilled, pinning her with his intense gaze. “Don’t worry, Miss Leighton, there is nothing to fear with me.”
“Who says I’m afraid?”
He leaned in and kissed the inside of her upturned palm. “It’s just you seemed a little startled for a moment.”
She shook her head and looked up at him, boldly wiggling against his still hard erection. “No, Mr. Thorn. I just had a little minor twitch. Nothing to be concerned about.” She wrapped a confident hand around his neck and pulled him toward her, looking him in the eye. “Now where were we?” she breathed close to his mouth.
She watched as Mark’s eyes briefly focused on her and then somehow through her and then past, taking in the room, their surroundings, and back to her all in the space of a brief second or two. She refused to flinch. “We were right where we are,” he finally said. “With you calling the shots. It will be hard, but I can still leave. All you have to do is say the word, but I’m warning you, one more of those sweet assed little wiggles and thigh tightening things from you, and I may not be able to be as gentlemanly as I have been.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she quipped back and wiggled against him boldly.
“And you test me again? Woman, you are going to be an interesting neighbor.”
“How about you let me show you just how interesting?”
And with that, Samara arched up, reaching around Mark’s neck to pull his lips down to hers once more. This time she noticed he didn’t hold back. It was as if he had been waiting for her invitation and now that he’d had it, he was ready to let loose.
Without hesitation he ran his tongue over the crease of her lips, forcing her mouth open, connecting with her tongue, swirling and twining, causing ripples of pleasure to undulate through her body. She moaned against him and he suddenly pulled back, causing her to gasp in unrestrained anguish.
All she knew in that moment was that she wanted to pull him right back down toward her, but he looked down at her with hooded eyes as he swiftly pulled off his tee revealing all those muscles that she’d only dared imagined.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she chided herself for her foolish musings. Damn. She’d never rightly envisioned what he’d really held underneath those tees. All those muscles, strong and well defined, but still somehow natural looking and not gym rat induced, but just there. As if he were made from God’s imagination and not man’s. He was lightly tanned with feathered hairs that ran across his dark brown nipples. Sam squinted and caught a hint of a scar just below his ribs, bringing to mind that incident he seemed to brush off so lightly only moments before. She looked up at him. “This looks pretty serious. You care to talk about it a little more?”
He grinned, raising a brow, looking every bit the devil. “Not right now I don’t.”
She raised her hands and ran shaky fingers across that maddening brow. Gently touching the small scar right above. “And this?”
It was then that the playful eyes went dark and bit more dangerous. Her breath caught. “No, Miss Leighton I definitely don’t. Let’s just say that one has taught me you shouldn’t play with fire.” He licked his lips and nudged at her, his erection hard and insistent. “Too bad, I’m a slow learner.”
Desire raged through Samara as Mark pierced her with his gaze. Her eyes trailed down to tapered abs and she found herself unconsciously swallowing. All thoughts of talk, scars, and anything else fluttered away. She let out a sigh then looked up, catching a glimmer of a smile playing on the corner of his lips. He knew he had her.
“Seriously, Miss Leighton. You keep looking at me like that and I just may blush.” His voice rolled over her, causing her to swallow once again. She had to get a hold on this.
“It would seem you have the upper hand, Mr. Thorn, and that doesn’t sit well with me.” With that she gave him a slight push and he leaned back further giving her an even better view of all that gloriousness, but she caught herself and gave him a good stare as she reached for the hem of her own top and pulled it up over her head. For her reward she got her own swallow, a low moan, and the faintest blush from him that had her grinning.
“Well played. Tables turned.”
She’d never seen a man so in awe in her life. And never had one actually blushed at the sight of seeing her naked. She was so used to them playing it cool or getting right down to the action that she didn’t know how to react.
Samara leaned up and kissed him. She knew this was wrong and that it would probably mean having to give up the best apartment she’d ever had, but Mark Thorn was worth risking prime New York real estate. She tenderly kissed the vein calling her from his collarbone. It pulsed under her tongue. Mark leaned his head back, giving her more access, and her kisses trailed lower, stopping over his nipples and then his heart. He reached for her head and held it close for a moment; she felt his life under her lips for one beat. Then another. Gently, he pushed her head back down toward the couch.
Mark’s eyes were full of dark fire as he leaned over Samara, going for her breasts with surprisingly gentle kisses through the lace of her bra that had her arcing up and rubbing her nipples against his teeth, aching for more. But still he teased and took his head further down, trailing those kisses toward the center of her stomach, causing it to flutter as the butterflies untangled and his thumbs came up to replace where his lips had been. One of her hands reached out to clutch the loose couch cushions as the other ran across his closely shaved head. Then he trailed back up, easily unhooking her bra and freeing her breasts, gently swirling his tongue over one and then the other. Sam’s center turned to molten liquid and she thought she would burn up from the inside out.
Both her hands came to his head as his tongue went to work nibbling and raking, then sucking and biting until she was a heart-skittering, erratic mess nearly bucking off the edge of the couch. “Mmm,” he moaned his satisfaction as one hand lowered to the button of her jeans and she threw her head back and spread her legs slightly wide.
His large fingers were gentle as they glided over her soft folds already glistening from his time up top. He eased one finger gently inside, stroking her top wall as an expert thumb flicked at her hard core. Bam. It was as if something snapped in her center and in her head and she was afraid to think of where else, so she pushed that to the back of her mind and bit down on her bottom lip. She would not lose it. Not this quick, not this easy. But still she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped.
“Not yet. Miss Leighton. I don’t want you there yet.”
Samara tightened her eyes shut and stilled her heart as Mark leaned back, pulled off her sneakers, then pulled her jeans all the way off. The immediate coolness and all around chill was quickly replaced as she heard him stand. She couldn’t resist opening her eyes and getting another look at him as he removed his own jeans. Sam resolved that she would not suck in a breath this time. No way. No matter how much she wanted to. But so what, her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. He was still just a man. A rather large, manly, and good looking man. But just a man nonetheless and when he stepped toward her she held up a warning hand.
Mark grinned and reached over to his jeans and wallet, coming back up holding up a condom triumphantly. “Don’t worry. You just relax. Like I’ve told you before, you’re safe with me in all ways.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but her laugh died on her lips when he dropped back to his knees and pulled her bottom toward the edge of the couch, lo
wering his head. No, there was no laughter at all when his tongue went to work. This time not on her breasts, but between her most private folds. Flicking, nibbling swirling, sucking. Holy hell, she was just about gone. Over the edge. Both on the couch and over the edge of her mind.
• • •
Mark was out of his mind. He could make love to her this way forever. She was all he ever wanted and all he ever would want. Never in all his imagination did he ever dream she would taste this sweet, be this responsive to him. But he was fast losing control and Mark knew that forever wasn’t going to be today. Samara was driving him wild. He inhaled her heavenly scent and kissed the smooth jewel that was her essence, giving it a gentle suckle. Samara responded with a small, strangled cry — she was almost there. And so was he. He tightened his hold on her thighs to keep her legs apart as he dipped his tongue low once more, readying to take her to the point of no return. He knew she was close. Her back arched and her hands fisted and the phone rang.
And rang and rang some more.
Mark slowed. Kissing the inside of Samara’s thigh as her breathing slowed too.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“Sammy baby.” Peter Moss’s voice was a cold splash of water causing an unwelcome chill to run through Mark that he knew went over Sam too, if her thigh tensing was any indication.
She groaned, this time not from pleasure, and looked down at him as he looked up at her from between her legs, dark eyes now full of something different. Something he couldn’t read and wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Peter droned on. “It’s me, Peter. Just reminding you of our date at your parents’ for dinner. I’ll have a car there at seven.” Mark’s hand went to Sam’s already spread center. He slipped a finger inside and she gasped.
Mark stroked and pinned her with his eyes, satisfied as she sucked in a breath. “I’m really looking forward to it,” Peter said as Mark added another finger. “I know your parents are happy with this alliance,” Peter went on and Mark swept his thumb across her hot button. “See you soon, beautiful.” Mark took that thumb joined it with his tongue and pushed down. “Goodbye.”
And then, in a perfect final moment, the world seemed to fly apart and come back together as Samara came. Like a flower opening in a beautiful rush and with a long keening she was all over, broken in Mark’s hand. Mark pulled back, reached swiftly for a condom and tugged it on. He fought to block out Moss’s voice and just concentrate on the woman below him. The moment ahead of him. This would not be an angry fuck. He would enjoy this. Enjoy it for what it was. Something he had wanted for a very long time. And he was going to make sure she enjoyed it too. Enjoyed it enough to forget Moss calling and reminding them both of just what this was and just who he was. That he was just a fuck and just the son of the hired help. Mark took a breath, looked down at Samara in all her glorious beauty, and plunged in.
• • •
Samara was gone. Splayed back against the couch with the enigmatic Mark Thorn draped over her as a very warm, very sexy, and very wrong kind of throw. She was also afraid to open her eyes. What had she gone and done? Sure, she knew what she was getting into when she invited him up for coffee, so she couldn’t go and play the dumb, “oops this kind of just sort of happened” card, because there was no way she could square that in her mind. But what she didn’t plan on happening was the screwed up feelings that were currently plaguing her. This was supposed to be an easy, love him and leave him or at least get him out of your system thing, but he had to go and give her that look and she twisted it with that feeling and well … well, damn, she was screwed. Literally and figuratively. Not to mention the dangerous, but exciting thrill she got when they really got into it and then when Peter called with his for crap timing.
It was practically mind blowing. But that was the problem. She didn’t want or need her mind blown. Samara bit her bottom lip as cold fear threatened to take hold. The weight of Mark’s body almost too much, but somehow just enough. She swallowed back a sigh. Mark was like a man on a mission. Yes, the sex was fantastic, but he was still somehow different. Shadowed, more possessive, something she knew she couldn’t control.
Finally Sam opened her eyes and looked down at him breathing. Slow and easy. Not sleeping but eyes thankfully closed. Examining his strong profile, Samara let her gaze sweep over the slope of his nose and go down to his beautiful lips.
“Why are you staring at me?” he grumbled.
“How do you know I’m staring at you?”
“I can feel your eyes.”
And she knew he could. She fought not to turn away, but shielded her gaze as his lashes swept up and his eyes lazily met hers.
Shit, it seemed she would need even more than shields. She countered with what she hoped was a cool stare of her own, accompanied by an easy grin. “That was delicious. Just what I tonight.”
Now his stare cooled a bit. “Why is it I feel like I’ve now served my purpose and this is my heave ho?”
Sam pulled away slightly, but didn’t get far, as his half tree trunk of an arm was around her waist and his just about full trunk of a leg was wrapped around her legs and thighs. Besides, where was she going with the couch at her back? She shimmied up a bit and looked down at him. “No, of course not. It’s just that it’s getting late and I have work to do so … ” She let the words linger, twisting her lips.
But it seemed Mark wasn’t going to just let it pass with a “so” and a linger. He leaned over, kissing her now over sensitive nipple, sending a painful thrill through her body. He then trailed a slow and steady finger down the side of her ribcage and let it graze along her thigh. She couldn’t ignore the feeling of his erection as it started to harden once again at her side. He studied her through hooded eyes then looked around the room, his eyes briefly sweeping to where her answering machine sat. He patted her thigh.
“So yeah, I understand. Seems my neighborly work here is done for the day and I’m sure you have business you’ve got to take care of.”
Sam pulled back at his tone, pushing at him, causing him to rear back and almost fall to the floor. He balanced, grabbing the edge of the couch. “Ouch, Miss. Leighton. Not so rough. That is, not unless you’re really willing to go there.”
“Fuck you. As if you could really handle it. It’s not like I hurt you anyway,” she said, not bothering to hide her anger. What the hell was that, neighborly work for the day bullshit?
He shrugged his shoulders and eased himself away from her, lowering to the floor. Suddenly cold, she fought to brush aside the immediate urge to pull him back into her embrace.
“I didn’t say you hurt me. Or could.”
“Well, what are you trying to say?” she asked, pulling up, suddenly feeling too exposed and reaching for the cashmere throw at the far end of the couch. He gave her an assessing stare that raked over her body as she pulled the soft fabric to cover her nakedness. “Well?” she said again, not bothering to keep the irritation from her voice.
He let out a low grumble that went through her. “Well nothing, princess.”
Her ire went up at that one, as did her eyebrow. “Princess?”
“Sorry, I meant Miss Leighton.”
Her brows shot up further. “You really are pushing it, Thorn.”
He let out a sigh. “Well, it would seem our, coffee, uh, is done. And now I’m being dismissed.”
Sam opened her moth to protest, but Mark stopped her with his sexy grin. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Like I said, I understand. You are you.” He then trailed a hand along her leg and around to her dangling foot, causing a shiver to run though her body.
“You make it sound like I’m a snob or something. Like I’m looking down at you.”
“I didn’t say that, Miss Leighton. But it is as it is. You are where you are. And here I am. At your feet.”
He then leaned over and gave the to
p of her foot a gentle kiss, causing the earlier thrill to ripple again through her body and settle in her belly, the butterflies coiling back up. He looked up at her through his dark lashes. “Just the neighbor, being neighborly.”
Sam kicked out at him, hitting him square on the left side of his chest. He pulled back and looked at her sharply, catching her foot. “Watch those claws, miss. You wouldn’t want to mess up our little agreement when it’s just getting started.”
She pulled her foot away. “Who said anything about this being a start?”
He grinned. “You’re right. Like you said, this was just evening the score. Now you don’t owe me a thing. Thanks for the coffee. Let me know if I can reciprocate sometime.”
With that Sam watched as Mark deftly cleaned himself off, eased back into his clothes, and left.
Her apartment door closed with a surprisingly low click. She leaned back on the arm of the couch and looked up at the double height ceilings then over to the windows and around the apartment that felt comfortable and warm just minutes before. It was like he had never been there. Hell, maybe he hadn’t.
Sam would swear he was just a dream if she wasn’t left with the evidence of two petite espresso cups, a discarded condom, and a twisted heart. Her eyes settled on the clock below the television. Eight thirty-five.
Screw you, Gabby. Buttons pushed indeed.
Chapter 12
“You mean by eight forty-five it was all over, and he was out?” Gabby gave Sam an openmouthed look of awe as they walked into Brick, a new downtown eatery, for a late bite and were immediately ushered past the waiting crowd at the bar to a newly vacated prime center window banquette. Sam ignored a particularly hot look from a cool blond drinking a martini with a man easily triple her age as she went on her way.
Seduction’s Canvas (Crimson Romance) Page 11
