“Yes,” I rasped, my voice so deep it barely sounded like mine. “Please.”
He took his time, torturing me with slow kisses as he undid the buttons of my summer dress. I shrugged so it would fall off my shoulders, then gave a hip wiggle that made it hit the floor. Sam trailed a finger from my shoulder to my hand. “Bed?”
“God, yes.” I reluctantly released his cock and followed him to the massive king-sized bed I’d been eyeing since we entered the room. He pulled me into another slow kiss, and I ground against him, aching to feel as much of him as possible.
His hands slithered down my back, a slow, sensual dance, then cupped my ass. He lifted me, and I instinctively locked my legs around his slim hips, the ridge of his erection nestling against my pussy. Two now-annoying pieces of cotton were the only things separating us.
I wove my fingers into his thick hair, increasing the pace of my tongue around his, trying to communicate the urgency. But Sam clearly wanted to take his time. Bastard. Deliciously hot, irresistible, teasing bastard.
He lowered me to the mattress and then knelt above me, eyes raking over me. A fresh wave of heat raced over my flesh from his look of untamed desire. When was the last time anyone had looked at me like that? Had anyone ever? If they had, I must not have cared, because the need I felt at that moment was unprecedented.
Sam chewed his lower lip as his hands explored, tracing my nipples through my bra, skimming across my stomach, fingertips slipping under the waistband of my panties, under the leg bands, just barely touching me.
“Fuck.” I whispered the word as an exclamation, a request, a demand.
Sam smiled but continued his maddeningly slow pace as I squirmed, pressing my feet against his bed so I could raise my hips, hoping for any hint of friction.
He moved aside, hooking his fingers under the fabric. “You want these off?”
“Yes. I want yours off too.”
He grinned. “That can be arranged.”
In seconds his boxer briefs flew to the floor, his long, hard cock finally free and bobbing just out of reach. He resumed his slow-motion approach as he reached for my panties and eased them over my hips and down my legs. I wriggled to speed things up and could tell Sam was enjoying my impatience.
Unwilling to wait any more, I unhooked my bra and cast it aside. Sam’s gaze flew from my now-bare pussy to my boobs and back again before settling on my face, the silver blue of his eyes eclipsed by enormous pupils.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He sounded so sincere my heart ached, while the rest of me felt ready to burst into flames.
I reached up, stroking his chest, abs, all the way down until my fingers curled around his erection. His hips thrusted forward into my fist, and a droplet of precum landed on my stomach. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Yeah?” He slowly lowered himself until he hovered above me, lips inches from mine.
I answered by pulling him into a kiss and hooking my legs over his hips with enough force to draw him down on top of me.
He hummed out a moan as his cock slid, hot and slick, against my bare skin.
He smoothed the hair off my face with two strong hands, continuing the sensuous rocking as his tongue circled mine. His sweetness was heavenly but I wanted so much more. My hand slipped between us, following the heat radiating from him.
A low groan rumbled out of him. “You’re so warm.”
My fingers curled around him again, and he pumped himself in my grip, warm wetness painting streaks across my belly with each thrust. “Do you have a condom?”
He nodded, silky hair tickling my neck as he kissed his way to my breast and ran his tongue around one hardened nipple.
It felt so good I didn’t want him to stop, but I wanted him inside me more, so I tugged at his hair until those silvery eyes met mine again. “Now. Please, Sam.”
His dick pulsed against my fingers, then he rolled to the side and pulled open the drawer of his bedside table. He ripped the packet with his teeth and then rolled the condom onto his erection. I shivered with anticipation, but instead of climbing back on top of me, he stayed alongside me, kissing my shoulder, my collarbone, my breast, as his hand wandered down my body.
I rocked up to meet his palm, and he sighed as his fingers slid through my wetness and started slowly circling my clit.
“Mmmm.” I didn’t trust myself to form words.
His tongue flicked around my nipple in perfect rhythm with the dizzying circle of his fingertips. The pressure built inside me, warmer, heavier, pooling between my legs until my hips flared wide, legs shaking.
“Breathe.” He whispered the word against my damp, puckered skin, the heat of his breath intensifying every sensation.
I inhaled, and he increased his pace until I panted, fisting the sheets with one hand and his hair with the other. It felt so good I didn’t even want to come, I wanted to ride the wave of pleasure as long as humanly possible, but I couldn’t. With a gasp and a cry, I tumbled over the edge, letting the intensity rocket through me. I clenched over and over against nothing, his fingertips keeping me coming until I stilled his hand with mine.
“Oh my god.”
“Good?” He gazed at me, eyes glazed with lust, bedhead worthy of a haircare product commercial.
“I’m so leaving a Yelp review.”
Laughter rumbled out of him, and I laughed with him, letting it prolong the blissed-out bonelessness. But I still wanted more. I reached for his cock, rock hard in its latex outerwear. He pumped his hips a few times and then kissed me, climbing on top of me, taking his time once again.
This time as he rocked against me, I was audibly wet, the sound echoing in the stillness of his room. “Sam, please. I want you.”
He held my gaze as his hand slipped between us, getting himself into place, teasing my entrance with the tip of his cock.
I whimpered, shifting my hips up as he slid inside, stretching my swollen flesh, slowly filling me.
Rocking gently, he eased deeper, grinding against me then withdrawing with the same sensual, unrushed pace. Dreamlike. Drawing out the pleasure for maximum anticipation and pleasure. My eyes drifted closed, hands clutching at his back, his ass, nipples brushing against his chest. He kissed his way back to my mouth, joining us in a complete circle.
His heart beat so hard I could feel it. Or was that mine? We moved together more in sync than I’d ever been with anyone. Our breaths. Our bodies. Like we were one.
Pressure built again, delicious and aching as he swiveled against me with each thrust. “Oh god, Sam.”
My fingers dug into his back as I cried out again, clamping down on his cock over and over. He swelled inside me, pumping faster and harder, then stilling as he grunted, pulsing deep inside me. Knowing he was coming tripped something primal in my brain, and I bucked against him, taking him deeper, grinding my clit against him until another orgasm shook through me.
He kissed me again, slow and deep, as he slipped out of me and rolled away. I heard tissues being plucked from the box and the snap of the condom coming off. I tingled from head to toe, that same glowing feeling from our first kiss pulsating from the top of my head to the base of my spine.
I’d come three times the night before, thinking about our first kiss. Now I’d come three times from his fingers and his cock. The bed shook as Sam flopped alongside me, then gave a tinier shake as Puck jumped up to join us.
Sam laughed. “Where did you come from?”
Puck ignored him and started kneading my thigh, politely keeping his claws in. I could barely lift my hand enough to stroke his soft fur. “Is he a voyeur?”
“I don’t know. First time I’ve had sex in this house. Well. With a partner.”
As physically sated as I was, the thought of Sam masturbating still managed to make me spontaneously Kegel.
“Just don’t take any photos, okay pervy kitty? I’ve had enough internet drama for one year.”
18
Sam
I could have happily s
tayed in bed all night, but Phoebe reminded me we still hadn’t had dinner, and there was a kitchen full of food that needed cooking.
She climbed out of bed, and I watched as she bent to pick up her dress. Man, was she sexy. Her brow furrowed, and she looked at me. “Seems someone got some honey on my dress.”
I laughed. “Sorry?” I wasn’t the least bit sorry for how any part of this evening had turned out.
“I guess I can either streak through the back yard to get a change of clothes, or you could loan me something.”
I padded to my dresser, aware that her eyes were on my ass as I walked and happy that she seemed as fascinated with my naked body as I was with hers. I pulled out a pair of basketball shorts for myself then grabbed two T-shirts, tossing her one.
“Oh my god,” she said as she caught it. “I have this shirt. This exact shirt.”
“You saw Weezer on that tour?”
She slipped the black shirt over her head, and I watched as her gorgeous body disappeared beneath it. “Not just this tour, this actual concert. I was in Boston that summer.”
“No way. That’s wild.”
I wondered what would have happened if we’d met at the show. Would this freakishly strong connection have been apparent if we’d met then? Or would she have been just another random stranger? That thought didn’t last long because she bent to pick up her bra and panties, and I was once again mesmerized by her ass. She balled up her undergarments and her dress, and I followed her downstairs, Puck trailing behind us.
My sex-addled brain functioned just enough for me to put together our salad while Phoebe seasoned and pan-seared the lamb steaks and sauteed some zucchini, then tossed it with the remaining mushrooms. She whipped up a dressing with the honey and remaining dill and some yogurt from my fridge. By the time the lamb finished in the oven, I was starving.
We ate at the center island, and I stared at her long bare legs between bites of perfectly cooked and seasoned lamb. The bitter arugula with the sweet and tangy dressing was the ideal balance to the richness of the meat. “You really have a knack with food. Speakeasy is lucky to have you.” I’m lucky to have you.
“Thanks. I hope I can knock their socks off. I’m kinda feeling like I need a professional win.”
I shook my head. “Don’t let what happened get into your head. It had zero to do with your skill. You’re really talented, and I know you know it. Just trust yourself.”
She seemed to mull that over as she chewed. “This is a really good meal. But maybe that’s because you helped me work up such an appetite and flooded my brain with feel-good chemicals.”
I was super glad I wasn’t alone in feeling that our connection had been pretty fan-fucking-tastic.
“How long were you in Boston? I was there for college and grad school. I left pretty much right after that concert.” Memories of my breakup with Camilla threatened to kill my high, so I brushed them aside.
“Just that summer. I worked for the Boston Premier Group with Audrey. They own a ton of restaurants. When I wasn’t working, I spent most of the rest of my time at Boston Burger Company or Modern Pastry.”
I nearly dropped my fork. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, why?”
“Those were literally my two favorite haunts. I went to Modern at least three times a week. I was addicted to their lobster-tail pastries.”
“Those are the huge flaky ones filled with the ricotta pastry cream, right?’
“Yes. So good. I’ve always wanted to learn how to make them, but sfogliatelle dough is a pain to work with.”
“If you were there that often, there’s a damn good chance we were there at the same time. Probably more than once.”
“I know, right? That’s very weird. I guess we were destined to meet at some point.”
The Lovers and the Two of Cups. Soulmates.
No. That was ridiculous. Coincidences did happen, even though my grandmother swore that there was no such thing as a coincidence.
We cleaned up the pans and dishes and stowed the leftovers in the fridge, but I didn’t want her to leave yet. “Any interest in a movie? Binge watch? Anything?”
“Sure. I don’t have a TV, and I get tired of watching things on my laptop.”
I pulled her into a hug, loving the feel of her in my arms. “Does it still count as Netflix and chill if you’re already wearing my T-shirt and nothing else?“
I slid my hand up her bare leg and caressed the smooth skin of her curvaceous ass.
“Not sure that’s covered in the official rule book, but I’d say yes.”
I cued up Netflix in the family room while she rinsed and dried the strawberries and poured balsamic vinegar into a small bowl and sugar into another.
The couch was enormous, but she sat right next to me, legs tucked under her, plate of berries balanced on her thigh. “Want one?”
I opened my mouth, and she fed me a berry. Sweet juicy flesh, the light crunch of sugar and the tang of balsamic vinegar. “You’re the master of perfect bites.”
She grinned. “I should put that on my business card.”
“You should.”
For the next two hours we laughed and binged Schitt’s Creek, but our hands were wandering more and more. By episode four, she was stroking me through my shorts, and I was ready to tug her into my lap. “Want to watch something else?”
She popped the last strawberry into her mouth. “I wouldn’t mind watching you climb back into bed…”
“Would you be joining me in this climbing expedition?”
She slipped my hand between her legs, dragging my fingers through her wetness.
“Let’s go back upstairs.”
“Maybe I’ll show you other kinds of perfect bites. If you’re good.”
“Oh, I’m good.”
She leaned in and nipped at my neck, and I scooped her off the couch. I couldn’t get her upstairs fast enough.
19
Phoebe
My body hummed. Not an annoying hum, but the delicious kind, like when you lick your lips after a decadent dessert and can still taste the residual sweetness. I reveled in the sensation as my brain slowly brought back one memory after another, like swirls of cream racing through iced coffee. Sam’s touch. His tongue. The softness of his hair ghosting over my skin...
And then that silky curtain actually was ghosting across my shoulder as sunlight danced through his window.
“Morning.” His voice was rich and thick with sleep and sexier than ever, but instead of enjoying the sensation, all I could feel was panic.
I had to get out of there.
So I did. With the lamest excuses.
“I didn’t mean to sleep over. I have a super busy day... I’m meeting Audrey at Busy Bean, then I need to get to Speakeasy. Sorry.”
I didn’t even remember what else I said as I put my still-sticky dress back on, nearly tumbled down the stairs, and left a groggy Sam looking very confused.
No no no no no.
Why had I slept with him? Twice. And spent the night.
Everything had been going so well since I got to Vermont. Good job. Great house. Fantastic people.
And I had to fuck it all up with literal fucking. I stomped into the guesthouse, struggled my way out of my dress and shoved it into the hamper as I turned on the shower. Without waiting for the water to heat up, I stepped under the spray, yelping as the cold water stung my skin. I didn’t care. Maybe the ice-cold prickles would manage to bring me to my senses.
I’d fucked my Landneighbor.
I’d fucked myself.
What had I been thinking?
That was a foolish question. I knew exactly what I’d been thinking. That Sam was one of the hottest guys I’d ever seen and one of the nicest people I’d ever met. That I clicked with him in a way I’d never clicked with anyone. That his touch did things to me that I’d never experienced before.
That he was the kind of guy who could actually maybe make me have the kind of feelings I’d been trying
to avoid my entire life.
And there it was. The reason I’d run. The reason I’d always run. Feelings were dangerous. They made you vulnerable. They made you stupid. They got you hurt. I didn’t want to be vulnerable or stupid or hurt.
I don’t want to fall in love. And with Sam I wasn’t sure that was possible.
20
sam
Sex with Phoebe had been everything I’d fantasized about and then some. But morning brought a heavy dose of reality. She clearly couldn’t wait to get away from me.
A hasty kiss, some muttering about a busy day ahead at work, and she’d raced out of my house without looking back.
The boneless feeling I’d had upon awakening was instantly replaced with low-key panic. I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t get where she was coming from. I’d spent the past five years avoiding relationships like the plague. From the way she’d described her ex and her mom’s relationship track record, it was crystal clear Phoebe wasn’t big on love. She’d just been through a trauma with her breakup and all the online shit.
But still. I’d managed to convince myself that all the special things I’d been feeling were mutual. She couldn’t have been more enthusiastic while we were going at it, and our connection was off the charts. I’d drifted into a sleep more peaceful than I’d had in longer than I could even remember, and I’d woken in the middle of the night with her curled against me, hugging me in her sleep.
I thought that was why it was such a shock to see how freaked out she was in the light of day.
I’d hated seeing that look in her eyes. Instinctively, I’d wanted to calm her. To reassure her that everything was okay and that we could go at whatever pace she wanted. But somewhere along the line, my heart had gotten involved and the fear of getting it broken kept me silent.
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