Crazy Ever After (17 page)

“Samara, we still shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” She blinked.

Only a million fucking reasons. His heart thudded. Telling her she was too young for him seemed inane now. Telling her that her father would freak out was probably not a good idea at this moment, seeing as he’d just died. Reminding her that her mother was just down the hall? Jesus. “We have to work together,” he managed to choke out.

She blinked again but said nothing. So unlike her.

“Aw, fuck it.” He kissed her hard. Her small hands reached for him, digging into his shoulders as she pulled him closer, a little frantically. “No.” He muttered the words against her lips. “Not this time, baby. This time we go slow. This time we enjoy.”

“I enjoyed it.” Her breathless words made him laugh.

“Yeah.” He brushed her mouth with his. “Me too. But this time...I want to actually know I’m enjoying it. You get me so hot I don’t know what I’m even doing.” The fucking weirdest thing was, when they’d been talking about coffee and coffee growers and co-ops and pricing structures, he’d been so hot for her he could have picked her up and done her right there on the restaurant table.

“Oh, god, me too.” Her tongue licked across his bottom lip as he kissed her again, and his blood surged. He slid a hand into her hair, cool and silky, and held her head against the pillow.

“Did I hurt you?” He nuzzled the side of her neck, tasting the tender flesh there with the tip of his tongue.

“Yes.”

He lifted his head and saw the smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “But I liked it. Oh Jesus.” Her eyes closed then opened. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Mmm. I can’t believe it either.” Maybe he’d just found the secret to controlling her. A little sexual domination apparently worked wonders. He’d have to keep that in mind.

More images of him taking her on the boardroom table at the office sizzled through his brain. Unusual working relationship, but hey, if it worked...

Yeah right.

He inhaled the exotic vanilla spice scent of her skin and hair as he sucked her flesh into his mouth in a love bite, releasing it before he left too much of a mark on her. Though he wanted to mark her.

He used teeth on her shoulder, making her shudder. This was crazy. She was so strong, so determined, so independent, who knew she would melt at a little rough play? Who knew he’d be so engorged he was going to burst?

Bah. He’d be that way no matter what if he was in bed with Samara. He knew it without a doubt. He’d always known it and had kicked his own ass over and over about it. He’d even thought he was a sicko pervert about it.

Maybe he still was.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he nibbled his way down to her breasts again, this time slowly, lusciously tasting her, sucking her, making her whimper and shift beneath him. This time he wanted to take his time with her and taste her everywhere.

But first he had to take his damn clothes off.

He sat up and stripped his shirt off over his head then shucked out of shorts and underwear. His cock was hard and throbbing and ready to go again. Already.

Kneeling between her legs, he gently pushed her thighs apart and studied her.

“Travis.” She inhaled his name on a long breath.

“Yeah.”

So pretty. So fucking hot. Bare and smooth, her pink folds glistened and pouted, her clit peeking out from between. His mouth watered, and he bent his head to press a kiss against one firm thigh, then the other.

Her fingers slid into his hair again. His scalp was sensitive, but the sensation of her tugging on his hair only added to the pleasure that sizzled over his body. He inhaled deeply, the warm feminine scent of her filling his head, making him almost dizzy. He kissed her mound, and she jerked against his mouth. Then he slowly licked and kissed his way down between her thighs, sucking the smooth flesh into his mouth gently, running his tongue up and down, up and down, around her quivering clit but not over it. Not yet.

Her hips lifted. Her fingers tugged. Her lips parted, and eyes closed, she made small mewling noises deep in her throat.

Then he kissed her clit, a firm kiss right over it, and she cried out.

Damn. They still had to be quiet. That was taking a lot of the fun out of the whole thing. He wanted her to let loose so he could hear her enjoyment.

He was going to have to get a place of his own, away from Dayna. Yeah.

In the meantime, Samara dragged a pillow over her face to muffle the cries and moans she couldn’t help but make as he dragged his tongue over her straining clit then sucked it into his mouth.

Her muffled scream almost made him come, and he sucked her climax into his mouth, pushing a finger inside her so he could feel her tighten and pulse. The snug ring at her entrance grabbed onto his finger so tightly that, again, he almost came.

When her small convulsions had stopped, he drew back and rolled her onto her tummy. She made murmur of protest, but her body was limp and boneless.

He just wanted to explore more. Sweeping his hands over the curve of her bottom, he leaned down to press damp kisses there. He spread her thighs again so he could still see all her girl parts, swollen and flushed dark pink, and the trickle of pale fluid easing from her center.

Christ. His balls tightened up to his body, and his skin crawled with an intense need for her. So much for his plan to take things slowly. At least he’d given her one orgasm first.

He took in a deep, slow breath, willed his body to slow down, and stroked his hands up and down the backs of her thighs to her knees, making her shiver, then back up over that sweet little ass.

He pressed a kiss to the small dimples at the base of her spine then licked his way up the furrow of her back, pushed her long hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck, soft and warm and fragrant.

“You’re killing me,” she moaned.

“Mmm.” He drew in her scent again and moved over her, ready to take her from behind.

“No.” Her whisper and her hand on his cock stopped him.

He swallowed.

She moved beneath him, wriggling, slipping out from under him.

He rose up on his knees to stare down at her, skin prickling all over, his cock so rigid it hurt.

She twisted around, all gleaming pale gold skin, tight little nipples and long curtain of flaming hair. She reached for him. For his cock. He watched open-mouthed as she took him between her palms, and when she stroked down, the top of his head almost burst off.

Samara crouched on her knees, leaned down, and took him in her mouth. Sensation exploded through his nerves. Her tongue swirled around him, hot and silky, and then her lips closed over him and she sucked, hot and wet and clinging. His mind went blank, his head fell back, and his consciousness narrowed to the feel of her mouth on him, sublime ecstasy.

He reached for her head, twisted his hand into her long hair and held on as she slid up and down the length of him. Heat enveloped him, pulsing warmth, as she greedily licked and sucked him, voracious, enthusiastic and so goddamn good. When she drew back and gazed down at him, her fingers curled around him, the head of his cock pulsing and dripping, flushed and swollen, he had to fight hard to control the orgasm that built inside. He buzzed and ached, his thighs tense and belly tight, vibrating with the need to come.

He watched her—mouth parted and shiny wet, eyes avid, hand sliding up and down on him. Then she leaned forward again, opened her mouth, and let saliva trail down over his shaft, a silvery thread that she slicked up and down with her hand. The slippery lubrication intensified the pleasure slamming through him, and he let out a string of curses that he tried hard to keep quiet.

“You feel so good,” he moaned, fingers tightening in her hair.

“You taste so good.” She bent and took him in her mouth again. Pressure built, and sensation sizzled, and he plunged over the edge.

“No,” he said hoarsely. He wanted to come inside her again, not in her mouth. Too late. There was no stopping it. It consumed him like a huge wave breaking on the shore, unstoppable, crashing over him, swamping him with pleasure. A long groan tore from him as she sucked him, swallowed him, licked him, held him.

“Shh,” she reminded him long moments later when she lifted her head, a mischievous smile curving her wet lips.

“Sorry.” Had he made noise? He didn’t even know.

They collapsed onto the bed in a heap of tangled sweaty limbs, her long hair twirled and snared around him.

“Christ, woman, your mouth is incredible.”

For someone he still thought of as young, too young, he did not want to know how she’d become such an expert at giving head. Jesus. He was destroyed.

But it wasn’t just by the blow job. It was the whole mind-blowing, speech-defying, heart-stopping experience of having sex with her. And wanting to do it again.

Chapter Thirteen

Travis had left her bed around four o’clock, and despite feeling cold and alone, she’d drifted back to sleep until her alarm went off at seven. She didn’t see him as she grabbed a quick cup of coffee and a bagel, although every sense was on alert waiting for him to appear.

On the way to the office, her tummy quivered and fluttered whenever she thought of seeing him there. This wasn’t how she’d planned things to go. She’d been convinced she could keep her feelings for him separate, that they could work together at Cedar Mill Coffee and it would all be fine. She hadn’t planned on jumping into bed with him, but whoa... Now that she had, it was hard to regret it. Well, she would show him how mature and professional she could be, by maintaining separate relationships. At work, they were colleagues. Away from work they were...what? Lovers?

“Hooo.” She blew out a breath, the flutter down low inside turning into a warm ache as she thought about being Travis’s lover. Wow.

But that didn’t change anything at the office.

She straightened her shoulders. She was still determined to show them all she could lead the company and pick up where her father had left off. Her bottom lip quivered a little as she thought about making him proud of her. She and Travis might be sleeping together, but that meant nothing when it came to business.

She nibbled her bottom lip as she walked into the office. Paulette was already there as usual, dubiously studying a large cardboard carton on her desk.

“Morning, Paulette. What’s that?”

Paulette looked up at her and didn’t answer. Her mouth flattened then she said, “It’s your father’s things. From the hotel in Matagalpa.”

Samara’s heart flipped over in her chest. “Oh.” She stopped short. “Well. I’ll take it and go through it.”

“Are you sure?” Paulette’s brows slanted down. “I could ask Travis...”

“No. That’s fine. I’ll do it.”

She hefted the box off Paulette’s desk and carried it into her father’s office. Her office. They still had to fight...er...discuss...that small issue.

She closed the door and then turned to the box. Taking a pair of scissors from the drawer, she slit the tape and lifted the flaps of the box open.

She pulled out a small carry-on size bag, which must have been all he traveled with. Not a lot, but then it was supposed to be a short trip, only a few days. Beneath it sat a briefcase. She gazed down at it. That was likely what she was most interested in, but just to make sure, she set the carry-on on the floor and unzipped it around three sides. She flipped it open, lifted out some of his clothes, feeling strangely like she was snooping through someone else’s things. But he was gone.

A few shirts, a couple of pairs of pants, underwear, a small black leather toiletry bag that held his shaver, a small bottle of shampoo, toothpaste, and toothbrush. Just the usual things you’d expect to see. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes at the thought that he’d never use these things again.

She sniffled and bent her head for a moment, hugging one of his shirts, then rose and returned to the briefcase. She lifted it out. It was heavy, and she realized it held his laptop. It was amazing that it had been returned. Something like that would have been so easy to steal. She had to admire the hotel staff who’d packed his things and sent them home.

Was there more information on the laptop than had been on his desk computer? Although she’d found some details, she didn’t have enough to finish whatever he’d started there. Nor had she seen any mention of the amazing coffee bean her mother had mentioned.

There was also a day planner, and she flipped through it, looking at the notes in his illegible scribble, half printed, half cursive. She smiled. A note to meet Javier. The fiesta. Nothing odd there.

She opened the laptop, but of course the battery was dead, so she dug into the bottom of the bag for the cord and plugged it in. When she’d powered it up, she awaited a prompt for a password, but there was none. “Dad,” she muttered. “That’s not smart.” But it worked out well for her, and she began searching through directories, folders and files, and immediately zeroed in on the folder labeled “Matagalpa”.

She heard voices in the office outside her closed door and froze.

Travis?

She didn’t know exactly why, but she didn’t want him to know she had her father’s things. She wanted to do this on her own. She was determined that if there was something her father had being doing there that was worth finishing, she was going to find out, and she was going to finish it.

She quickly lowered the lid of the computer and set it on the floor behind her desk, packed up the box and shoved it into a cupboard in case Travis— or anyone—walked in. She would wait and take it home, study it at leisure there in the privacy of her bedroom.

Curiosity burned inside her and she bit her lip. Better safe. It was the weekend, and she could take her time exploring the contents of the laptop without jumping every time she heard a noise.

When Travis did appear at her door, it was with a soft knock. She looked up from the spreadsheet she was studying on the computer screen to see him leaning against the door frame, all big and gorgeous, arms crossed over his chest.