Crazy Ever After (16 page)

He kissed her until they were both gasping for breath. He released her hands and dragged his out from beneath her then pulled the straps of the cotton dress she wore down her shoulders to free her breasts. His dick surged at the sight of them, perfect round mounds of softness, tipped with sharp little nipples that begged to be sucked.

So he did.

Shifting his body, he lowered his head and took one nipple in his mouth. He ran his tongue over it, loving the velvety texture of her skin, the sweet warm taste of her. He sucked then sucked harder, bringing a gasp from her, and her fingers slid into his hair and tightened. He scraped his teeth across the puckered tip, and she writhed beneath him, yanking on his hair.

“Yes.” The word was a breath, feather light, barely audible. “Oh, yesssss.”

He moved to the other breast, using his fingers to tease the damp one he’d left, and played there until the need spearing his balls was almost unbearable.

He kissed his way down her tummy, pushing the dress as he went, hoping like hell it would go over her hips. It did, the stretchy top giving way and leaving her beneath him in only a pair of gold lace boy shorts, almost the same color as her pale golden skin.

“Are you wet, Samara?” He murmured the words against the sensitive flesh just above the lace.

“Oh, god. Yes.”

“Let me see.” He slipped his fingers beneath lace to satiny flesh. Her pussy radiated heat, and he longed to pause there, just holding her, so sweet and tiny and soft, pulsing against him, but he was desperate to be inside her. He slipped his fingers into the folds and found silky moisture, oh god, so much moisture. She was ready.

He stripped the panties off over smooth, slender thighs, tossing them who knew where, and fumbled at his shorts to get his cock out. Not even bothering to take his clothes off, he pulled a condom out of his pocket, rolled it on, moved over her, and thrust into her hard.

She made another choked noise, this one louder, and he hissed, “Sorry.”

She covered her own mouth this time, parting her thighs to let him in as he pushed into her, her other hand gripping his biceps.

“Ah, fuck, Samara.” He tried to whisper the words because he couldn’t hold them in. “You feel so good. So goddamn good, hot and tight and wet around me.”

She just blinked up at him, swallowed, and met his thrusts with her own hips lifting as he pounded into her hard, fast, desperate. Small whimpery noises escaped both of them as they tried to be quiet as they fought for release. Bodies straining together, their soft sounds of desperation mingled with the slap of flesh against flesh.

Travis swallowed the harsh groan that rose to his lips as sensation sizzled from the base of his spine outward to his toes and fingers and his brain. He labored for breath, gritting his teeth. Then he went still, holding her hips as heat exploded and rushed through his body, and he poured himself into her in long hard jets. His head went back, jaw aching, eyes closed as he emptied himself into her body.

His need had been so urgent, so overpowering, he only vaguely realized he hadn’t made sure she came too, but then she did, rippling and pulsing around him. Her tiny whimpers filled the silent room, her fingers digging into him, and he managed to tear his eyes open and watch her face as she came, hips lifting against his.

He held himself in place, his chest burning, body tight, giving her the pressure she needed to push against. When she stilled, he collapsed over her then shifted to the side and tugged her with him. His hand went to her head, cupped the back of it, and pulled her face against his chest.

“Jesus,” he gasped. “Jesus, Samara.”

Her head moved in what might have been a nod, their harsh breathing the only sound. Sweat dampened his face and his T-shirt. He was still dressed. Hell.

He got rid of the condom, climbed back into bed with her, and pulled her into his arms. There was no stopping the tsunami of emotions that raged between them. Whatever the hell those emotions were, there were so many. He wasn’t even sure if he could name them all—good ones, bad ones, confusing ones.

He stroked a hand down her bare back, loving the sweep of smooth skin and how it curved into her delectable ass. This wasn’t how it should be. He’d wanted to take his time with her. Explore her. Taste her. Inhale her.

He hadn’t even taken his clothes off, for fuck’s sake.

He’d been brutal, hard, fast and selfish. He might even have hurt her.

He should leave. Go to his own room. His heart thudded against his ribs, waiting for her to push herself away from him, to kick him out.

“That was insane,” she mumbled against him.

In more ways than one. His gut seized with guilt. Again. What the fuck was he doing here? Guilt slammed into him like an ocean wave on a bad surfing day, in spite of himself. What the fuck had they just done?

Chapter Twelve

Well, it was done. She’d finally gotten what she’d wanted seven years ago. And all she could think was...wow. She hid her face against him, hoping he wasn’t going to be all moral and apologetic.

The last time he’d rejected her, he’d broken her teenage heart. Now, seven years later, it was clear to Samara that the feelings she’d had for him had not just been a girlish crush. Seven years later, those feelings were stronger and more intense than ever. She’d thought she’d gotten over him, but now she knew—she really hadn’t.

She’d gotten what she wanted. But maybe she wasn’t quite prepared for that. What happened next?

Although she’d mostly been reacting and hadn’t really thought about what they were doing, she had thought she could do it—have this one time with the man she’d always wanted, one night of no-strings-attached, scratch-an-itch sex. But she may have misjudged her own ability to do that without involving her emotions.

Her heart sank, heavy and full. Because if she hadn’t gotten over Travis in the last seven years, how on earth did she think she was going to get over him now? Now they’d actually had sex…

“Samara.” He lifted her chin to look at her, concern in his blue eyes. Then she shoved at his chest and pushed herself away from him. She scrambled to sit, glaring at him.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” she demanded.

His eyes widened, and his head lifted off the pillow. “What!” He gave his head a shake. “Jesus. Here I was worried that you’d think you seduced me against my will. And you ask why I didn’t stop you?” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back down.

Something inside her quivered, and she felt her heart tumble lower. She was taking out her worries and fears on him, and he didn’t deserve it. He’d been worried about her. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her again. But...had she seduced him against his will? Oh dear lord...“Did you really want me?”

He opened his eyes. They blazed with a blue flame. “You are the most irritating, frustrating female I have ever encountered!” He shoved himself up to sitting and they faced each other. “I can’t do anything right! When I try to do the right thing and resist you, I hurt your feelings. When I give into temptation, I piss you off. Then you ask that! How can you even ask? Did you not feel me inside you?”

Uh, right. Okay, that had been a stupid question. There was no doubt in her mind that Travis had wanted her with the same desperate hunger she’d wanted him. An aching joy, a wistful satisfaction filled her, along with budding hope. “I just wanted to make sure,” she whispered. And then she crumpled, remembering...remembering why she’d been so hurt, why they couldn’t ever be together. Why she should be hating him. She covered her face with her hands and bent her head, her hair falling around her.

“What? What’s wrong, Samara?” He reached over to try to push her hair back.

“I can’t get past it,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“Get past what?”

She drew a long shaky breath into her lungs. “You and my mother.”

She felt him go utterly still. After a tight pause, he said, “What about me and your mother?”

“The affair you had with her.”

He made a choking noise. “What!”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I know about your affair.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Seven years ago. I heard you and my mom talking. It was just after...after that night when I kissed you. I heard you two talking about Dad.”

His eyes narrowed, Travis shook his head. “Yeah. So? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Samara.”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t remember every word, but she said dad knew, and you said you were sorry, that you never meant to jeopardize their marriage, and she said it wasn’t all your fault and that she hadn’t handled things very well either, and then she said maybe it was best for all of you if you moved to L.A. even though she didn’t want you to go. And you sounded very...close.”

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” Travis closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “And you thought we were having an affair? Me and your mother? Oh Jesus. Jesus Christ.”

“Was...were you...Travis...?” He looked like he was in pain but wanted to laugh. Doubts swirled inside her as she stared at his expression.

“It’s almost funny, except it’s so goddamn stupid and tragic,” he said roughly. “Please, Samara, please tell me that’s not why you ran away and barely spoke to your mother for seven fucking years.”

Her heart picked up a heavy sluggish beat, her body pulsing in time to it. She swallowed tightly. “Yes. That’s why. I was so...hurt. By both of you. You’d rejected me, and then I found out that was why, and I was furious with my mother. I felt like she’d...stolen you away from me.”

He made another sound like a low growl.

“And I was angry at her for cheating on my dad like that. Angry at both of you, for betraying him like that. He was your partner. I didn’t understand how you could do that to him.”

“I didn’t do that to him.” He grabbed hold of her upper arms and gave her a little shake. “Are you insane? I never had an affair with your mother!”

“Shh. She’s just down the hall.”

“I don’t give a shit!” But he lowered his voice. “Samara, I swear to you, there has never been anything between me and your mother.” He gave her a hard stare. “Jesus, Samara. That is so fucked up.”

“Then...what...” She couldn’t even ask the questions because his words took her world and shook it up like she’d been pulled into a rip tide. Everything she’d known and believed for the last seven years shattered and rained down around her in tiny pieces.z

“Oh god.” She thought for a moment, remembering the tension between her parents, and how she’d attributed that to the affair. Her mind raced from one thought fragment to another. There’d been no affair. There’d been no affair. All those years when she’d been hurt and pissed off at her mother had been for nothing. A wrenching agony ripped through her at how stupid she’d been. Heavy regret washed over her, and her eyes stung. She lowered her head and stared at the pink, chocolate and taupe duvet, forcing back the tears.

She was an idiot. The biggest, stupidest idiot in the world. She’d not only trashed her own life, but her mother’s, and she knew her father’d been deeply hurt by the rift between them too. She wanted to die. She wanted to just curl up and hide her face in shame and never emerge.

“I should be so pissed off at you,” he murmured. “That you’d think I would do something like that.”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “You should. You should hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Samara,” he said wearily. “I know how pissed off at yourself you must be right now.”

She made a little noise of pain. “My mother...oh, god.”

“I know. I know. But you’ll talk. She’ll forgive you, Samara. She loves you.” He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve Travis’s comfort either. But he was giving it to her, and she wanted it, and she wanted him. So much. Gratitude for his forgiveness and understanding swelled inside her, hot and soft in her chest, feeling a lot like...love.

She couldn’t be in love with him. Not after all these years. After only her own stupidity and stubbornness had kept them from being together.

Well. That wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t run away all those years ago. She’d have gone away to college anyway, and even if she hadn’t believed Travis had betrayed her father and rejected her for her mother, they probably never would have ended up together anyway. Because―he’d rejected her. That still stung, but now, with the distance of time, she could finally admit Travis had been right. There was no way a twenty-five-year-old man would have had anything to do with a seventeen-year-old girl.

She’d been so young and stupid and blind.

She lifted her head from his now-wet chest and gazed up at him. “I’m sorry, Travis. I am so, so sorry. I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he smoothed his fingertips across her wet cheek. “Yes, you have.”

“I’ve been trying so hard to show you I’m mature and responsible and capable, and the truth is I’m just an idiot who has no idea what she’s doing.”

“You’re not an idiot, Sam.”

“Thank you. For being so nice about this.”

“Yeah. Well. I might’ve jumped to a wrong conclusion once or twice in my life.”

“Really?” She stared at him. He swallowed tightly, watching her. She tipped her head to one side and watched the expressions move across his face as he looked back at her. Watched his pupils dilate and his mouth soften. There was no denying the chemistry between them, the heat, the sparkle, the zing of challenge and the fun of sparring. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for them. Maybe they could be together.

* * *

Travis could have drowned in those amazing eyes, the green, gold and brown a sparkly kaleidoscope in her irises. Long lashes, wet and spiky, framed them, and her pretty mouth, swollen from his fierce kisses, parted softly. He rolled her onto her back and rose up on one elbow. He looked down at her, holding her gaze steadily.