He leaned toward her then, until he was nearly in her face. “I respected you and your family too much to do that to you, Georgie. To screw you in the front seat of a beat-up truck out by the lake when you deserved diamonds and silk and champagne?” He shook his head, hard. “No fucking way. You were trying to be a rebel and trying to use me to do it. And that’s not a good enough reason.”
She sat back in her chair, stunned. His words rang in her ears. Diamonds and silk and champagne. “You thought I was using you to rebel?”
He dumped pasta on a plate for himself. “Why else? You could have had anyone, but you chose me. Your parents were good to me, but do you think they’d have been thrilled to know their little princess was out fucking the boy who, only by the grace of God and their good influence, wasn’t as much of a loser as he was destined to be?”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Sam. Every bit of it.” She could barely push the words past the tightness in her throat.
He glared at her. “Have I? You wanted me because I was wrong for you, because I was the bad boy. You spent years building up that fantasy in your head. I saw it every time you looked at me.”
She’d known when they’d been kids that he’d been lonely and sad, but she hadn’t known he’d felt like he was bad. How could he be bad? He’d been a part of their family, and her parents weren’t poor judges of character. Oh, he’d gotten into trouble here and there—but never anything serious, and never anything that lasted for long.
He had been expelled once, but her dad had gone and had a long talk with the principal—and Sam was back in school again. She’d never doubted his character for one minute.
“I wanted you because you made my heart sing. Yes, I was infatuated with you. I spent years being infatuated with you. None of it had anything to do with you being a bad boy. Were you a bad boy? I didn’t know it. All I knew was you were there, in my house, looking handsome and broody and sexy. You played guitar and sang, and you were nice to me—when you weren’t telling me what to do. I adored you for those reasons, no other. When you came home again, I was so certain you’d finally see me as a woman, not Rick’s annoying little sister. Yes, I came after you and I wanted you to be my first—hell, I probably wanted you to be my only, but I did have a healthy fantasy life back then and the idea of marrying you and moving from Army base to Army base seemed like an adventure.” She shrugged to cover her discomfort. “I’m sorry if you felt like I was using you. It was the furthest thing from my mind, believe me.”
He was staring at her. “It’s post.”
“I’m sorry?” She’d said all that, and all he could say was something nonsensical?
“Army post. It’s an Air Force base. An Army post.”
She picked up her fork and twisted it into the pasta as if she had no cares in the world. Inside, she was trembling. She’d just bared some of her most private feelings to him and he was treating it like it was nothing.
“Well, I’ll have to remember that. Thanks for the lesson.”
“Georgie.”
She looked up. He reached over and took her free hand in his. Squeezed. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. I was trying to protect you.”
“It’s not your job to protect me, Sam.”
He gave her a lopsided grin that made her heart stutter. “Actually, it is. Right now anyway.”
“I appreciate that, really. But it only applies to this situation with Jake and those men, not to anything else. Please remember that.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.”
He blew out a breath. “I wasn’t right for you then. I hope you realize that. I wasn’t in a good place, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You might not have wanted to, but you did anyway. Self-esteem can be a fragile thing at that age and you shattered mine pretty badly when you pushed me away.”
“I was trying to do the right thing.”
“I know that now.” She took a bite of pasta to cover her raw nerves. “Oh my God, this is good. So much better than sex.”
It wasn’t a good segue, but it would have to do. Because it didn’t do any good to talk about the past with Sam. She still felt like the annoying little kid.
And the fact that he’d been trying to protect her when he’d turned her away twelve years ago? It only made her heart squeeze a little tighter and her emotions twist into knots.
Sam shook his head and laughed. “Now you’re just trying to bait me into saying something contradictory.”
“Maybe.” She took another bite and closed her eyes. “Or maybe not. Seriously, who needs a man when you have this? It’s an orgasm on a plate.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick, G.”
She grinned at him. “So you think. But really, sex is a bit overrated. Even you have to admit that. We get all worked up based on our hormones—and then what? It feels nice for a while and then it’s over.” She shrugged. “I’ve been living without it for over a year now and I’m no worse off.”
Intense dark eyes raked over her face and something throbbed deep inside her. Suddenly, sex seemed a whole lot more important than she wanted it to be.
“Eat the pasta, G, and shut the hell up.”
“You’re growling again,” she said.
He only glared at her.
10
There was a thunderstorm later that night. The crack of thunder and sizzle of ozone woke Georgie up. She bolted up in bed, feeling disoriented until she remembered where she was. Sam was on a fold-up Army cot in the living room. He’d given her the bed and stationed himself in the small room right off the front door. She didn’t ask if he was armed. She didn’t have to.
He must have seen the concern on her face because he’d told her it was simply SOP—standard operating procedure. He didn’t expect a threat, but he prepared for one because that’s what he did.
She’d gone to bed feeling only marginally better since she suspected he wouldn’t tell her the truth anyway. There could be a whole boatload of bad guys out there and he wouldn’t let her know it. Except she had to admit that she was pretty confident in the men she’d met earlier today. They were on top of this, whatever this was, and they’d find the person—or people—who’d killed Jake.
Thunder cracked again, and Belle scrambled under the bed. Georgie threw the covers back and went into the bathroom. When she came out, she realized she’d finished the bottle of water she’d set on her bedside table so she went into the kitchen to get another one.
She could see Sam lying on the cot, one arm thrown over his face, the other beside him. Lightning flashed and illuminated the room for a split second, and Georgie had to stifle the groan on her lips.
God, he was beautiful. He lay on top of the covers, clad in a pair of shorts, and his bare chest was a sight to behold. Far more muscular than when he’d been seventeen—or even twenty-one. And he was inked. She couldn’t tell what the designs were in that brief flash of light, but she’d seen them there and they made her mouth go dry.
What would it be like to trace them with her tongue? Wetness flooded her at the thought, and her temperature kicked up a degree. She’d told him sex was overrated—and she hadn’t been kidding—but what if it wasn’t overrated with him? What if he possessed the ability to make her feel something more than just the sweetness of a release?
Georgie shivered with awareness. It had been so long since a man had touched her. So long since she’d cared. And now here she was, panting over the one man who had always seemed determined not to have anything to do with her.
She crept toward the cot. She just wanted to see him up close, wanted to know if the ripple of muscle was as impressive as it had seemed in that flash of light. Wanted to see him breathing and know he was really here and that she wasn’t somehow imagining the whole thing in a fevered dream.
“What are you doing?”
His voice startled her. She stopped, clutching her water bottle, and swallowed. “Just making sure you’re okay.”
He re
moved his arm from over his face. She could see the glitter of his eyes in the darkness. “I’m fine.”
He sounded prickly as usual, and it got to her. “Your virtue is safe with me, Sam. You don’t have to get all edgy about it. I wasn’t coming over to take advantage of you or anything.”
He swung his legs to the floor and sat up. “I’m not worried about my virtue.”
“No, you’re worried about mine. Or about what Rick or my parents would think if you did what you really want to do.”
He tilted his head to the side. “How do you know what I really want to do? Maybe I’m not attracted to you. Did you ever consider that?”
She felt those words like a blow. After everything with Tim, after the heartbreak and betrayal, the idea that yet another man found her less than appealing hurt more than she could say.
Yes, she’d done it to herself. She’d poked and prodded and pushed—and for what? So he could tell her he didn’t want her? So she could suffer the sting of humiliation yet one more time?
Georgie couldn’t think of one damn thing to say. Instead, she turned on her heel and fled toward the bedroom. She was inside, throwing the door closed, when a big shape wedged itself between the door and the jamb. She didn’t fight. She just let go and stepped back, arms around herself as he loomed big in the room.
Thunder crashed harder than before, but she didn’t take her attention from Sam.
“Goddamn you, Georgie,” he said softly. “You push and push and push, and then when I push back, when I try like hell to keep you from making a mistake, I say something so fucking rotten even I can’t believe I said it.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. You’re beautiful and hot, and any man would be crazy not to want you.”
She held up a hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear another word. You don’t mean it. I know you’re just trying to make me feel better. And it’s my fault for putting you in that position. I do keep pushing, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s Tim and the marriage…” Here she actually had to swallow down a load of tears. “…And the humiliation of being left for someone else. I don’t know, but you have my word I won’t do it again.”
His voice, when he spoke, was low and hoarse, as if it were being dragged from him. “I do want you, Georgie. I’ve wanted you since that night twelve years ago. I want to spread you out beneath me and make you come so many times you can’t do it anymore. I want to taste your pussy and feel your legs wrapped around me as I pound into you. I want to see you swallow my cock and hear you cry out in ecstasy. I want all those things, and the only reason I don’t take them is because you deserve better. I can’t give you anything, Georgie. I’m nothing, nobody—”
She closed the distance between them and put her hand over his mouth, trembling with anger and something more.
Desire. Want. Need.
“Shut up, Sam. Shut the fuck up right now. You are somebody. To me. You always have been. I’ve loved you since I was thirteen, and I’m not an idiot. Rick loves you. My parents love you. None of us are stupid.”
She was crying now, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She put her hands on either side of his face, cupped his hard jaw with shaking fingers. “You aren’t a nobody. You’re amazing and wonderful and perfect just the way you are. And if your parents couldn’t see that, if they made you think differently, then you need to believe me and not them. Because I’m right, dammit, and they’re the ones who’re stupid.”
He spanned the back of her head with one broad hand. She could feel the tremors running through his body as he held her there. “You’re so fucking sweet, Georgeanne. I’ve always wanted you, since I first noticed you grew breasts. I’ve had a helluva time keeping my hands off you all these years. But I had to do it. You were meant for more than I could give you, and I couldn’t disrespect your parents that way. They trusted me. I couldn’t break that trust.”
Her breasts were tingling, her nipples tightening, and her core had grown impossibly wet. “They aren’t here now,” she said, stepping into his big body, bringing her aching breasts in contact with his naked chest. The thin cotton of her pajama top wasn’t much of a barrier, but it felt like the most torturous wall between them at the moment. “And even if they were in the next room, they have no say in my life. Nor should they have a say in yours. We’re adults, Sam. We do what we want. With whom we want.”
“I know that, but—”
She put her hand over his mouth to stop him from talking, from ruining this moment. She needed this. Needed him. So damn much. She’d felt empty for so long, and here was this man who made her feel like a sexual being again. Like she was made of lightning and flame.
“No one is here but you and me, and no one ever has to know if that’s what you really want. What I want is you—inside me, making me come. Making me feel like I’m beautiful again. Like I’m worth wanting.”
She didn’t think he would do anything, but then he lowered his head slowly, almost as if he were fighting himself. Right before he kissed her, he muttered against her mouth, “Tim was a fucking idiot, do you hear me? No woman is more beautiful than you.”
11
He was damned. He knew it, and he didn’t really care right this moment. Georgeanne Hayes was in his arms, her pretty body pressed tight against his, and he didn’t fucking care about anything else.
Her mouth parted beneath his and his tongue slipped inside, drawing her into a delicious stroking that made his body harder than it already was. She said he was worthwhile, important, and he believed her.
For right now anyway, he believed her.
He’d fought himself twelve years ago, and he’d fought himself today—Jesus, was it just today?—and he wasn’t fighting anymore. Georgie knew what she wanted and he was going to give it to her at least once before he died. He couldn’t have her permanently because his life was too unpredictable, but he could have this.
He’d spent the day worrying over her safety, wondering what her relationship with Jake Hamilton had been before she’d insisted there’d been nothing between them, and imagining what would have happened if those assholes had really meant for her to die last night.
She wouldn’t be here in his arms, so vibrant and alive and willing.
Georgie’s hands roamed over his hot flesh and then slid beneath his shorts until she grasped him. He groaned softly, his body so hard it hurt. Her hand was small and soft as she stroked him and pleasure began to sing inside his brain. He felt the familiar tightening at the base of his spine and knew he had to stop her before he embarrassed himself and spilled in her hand.
He broke the kiss and pushed her back until he could pull off her little pajama top and matching shorts. Her curves beckoned, a banquet for his hands and eyes and mouth.
“Oh, Georgeanne, the things I want to do to you,” he said, his voice a soft sizzle in the night.
“Don’t talk about it, Sam. Just do it.”
“Remember you asked for it,” he said, pushing her back onto the bed and coming down on top of her. He nipped her earlobe, slid his tongue along the column of her throat, and then fastened his mouth around one tight nipple while she gasped and arched herself into him.
Her fingers clutched his shoulders, dug into his muscles, and he loved the feel of it. Loved that she clung to him, making little noises while he sucked her nipple. He alternated the pressure, a little soft, a little hard, finding just the right amount she liked. Then he moved to her other nipple and repeated the performance.
He slid a hand down her smooth skin, came to the mound of her sex—and found it clean-shaven. He nearly choked on his own tongue at that little discovery. He could feel her panting and, yes, even laughing a little.
“Not what you expected?”
He left her breasts and trailed his mouth down her abdomen. “No. It’s very naughty of you, G. Very sexy.”
“I’d tell you I did it for you, but that would be a lie. I did it for me. Because I wanted to, because I like the way it looks and feels. It’s the
only thing that’s made me feel sexy these past few months.”
He reached her mound and placed a kiss there. “You are sexy. Incredibly sexy.” He ran a finger down the seam of her pussy. “So hot and wet, Georgie. What do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you inside me.”
“All in good time.”
Because he wasn’t stopping now. Once before, he’d managed to step back from the brink. Not this time. This time he was doing it all. Every little thing he’d been dreaming about.
He pushed her legs open and settled between them. And then he ran his tongue the length of her pussy while she cried out.
She tasted like honey to him—sweet, sweet honey. He spread her open with his fingers and licked his way around her slick folds. And then he touched the point of his tongue to her clit and she arched up off the bed with a sharp cry. He held his tongue against her while she writhed, stunned that she’d come so quickly.
When her tremors subsided, he built the tension again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, sliding in and out of her with short, hard strokes. She shattered again, his name a broken sound on her lips.
It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, and he’d heard a lot of women say his name in bed. But none of them were Georgie.
He kissed his way up her body, his hands gliding over her sweet soft skin, learning her by touch, mapping her for his memory so that he could call up these moments when she was out of his life again. So he could remember how it felt to make love to Georgeanne Hayes.
“You’d better not be planning to leave now that you’ve made me come,” she gasped.
Her skin was slick with perspiration, and he laughed low in his throat. “Oh no, not this time. I’m too hungry for you.”
Too far gone.
“Thank God for small favors.”
HOT Mess (Expanded Edition)(Hostile Operations Team - Book 2) Page 6
