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Authors: Cari Quinn

Heart Signs (8 page)

BOOK: Heart Signs
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“Not all the time but yeah, until I find out if a guy knows what he’s doing. Some of them just jam inside and go to town. That’s not sexy. I don’t want to feel like my man’s trying to make a touchdown so he can move on to the good stuff. You wouldn’t be the type to do that though,” she added. “I can tell you’re the kind who takes their time. Yesterday you spent longer touching me than some guys do on sex.”

He winced for both of them. “You know, talking to you makes me feel better about not having sex for years. Since apparently I’ve been saving some hapless woman from my poor techniques.”

“Your techniques yesterday worked just fine,” she said quietly. “And I totally killed the mood, didn’t I?”

With a quick look at his erection, he shook his head. “Not hardly. If I was there and you could show me how to touch you…”

“I’d take your hand and bring it to my breasts. Just have you cup them, hold them in your big, rough palms. You do a lot of work with them, I can tell. On cars and maybe other stuff too.”

Stupid to feel pride over something so basic, but there it was. “Uh, yeah, I do.”

“And then I’d have you pinch the tips, gently at first then harder. Maybe even twist them a little. They’d stiffen up and I would bring your mouth down and push one between your lips. Then you’d bite them, like you did yesterday.”

“Only one. I don’t think I made it to both.”

“But both felt it, believe me.” Her sigh gratified him in more ways than he would ever understand. How could such simple appreciation do so much to make him feel…well, normal again? Not like a living, breathing, moving shell. “You have great suction. And when you pulled, the throb in my clit was so intense. Like right now.”

Almost without realizing it, he began to stroke his cock. Slow, hesitant brushes of his hand that gradually sped up to match his quickening breaths. “Where are your fingers?”

“Inside. All the way in. Two of them now, slipping on all the wetness.” She gasped. “Talk to me. Let me hear you. Where are your hands?”

“On my cock. One of them is. The other’s holding on to you.” Well, the phone, but he didn’t correct himself. “And I’m thinking about you kneeling in front of me yesterday, how big and gray your eyes were. Like you’d never done that before and you couldn’t wait to learn how it would feel to—”

“What? Sam, tell me. Please.”

It wasn’t weird. It shouldn’t be weird. He just had to close his eyes and keep sliding his hand and it all would fall into place. “You looked as if you’d never sucked a man before. But then you reached for me and your touch was so much more sure than your face that I knew you were nervous for a different reason. The moment your tongue met the head of my cock, I almost fucking lost it right there. Just looking at you made me so hard.”

“Like you are right now?”

The hope in her tone made him smile. “Yes. Believe me, baby, I’m like steel for you and I only have a memory and your sexy voice to guide me.”

“Touch yourself faster. Pretend it’s my tongue, scraping over every inch of you, up and down, getting you slick. Like my pussy is right now. I’m so wet for you.” Her statement ended on another gasp, this one broken. “God, feels so good. I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Don’t. Rory, it’s my lips on you. My tongue moving in and out, tasting everything you want to give me. Want to feel you gushing in my mouth.” He pulled on his cock, his grip unsteady. Already the ache in his groin had intensified to the point of agony. His balls felt like they would shatter if he didn’t finally get to come. But first he had to get her there. “I need it, baby. Every bit of you, so hot. Let me have it.”

She whimpered but he knew she wasn’t ready yet. He’d have to up his game.

“Then when I finished drinking you down, I would pull you up, spin you around until your hands are flat on the back of the couch. I bet you have a beautiful back. I’d take your ass in both hands, run my thumbs between to feel all that wet you’d made for me, then I’d pull back and slide in you. Not fast. Not the first time. You deserve slow and deep.” Her moan cut straight through him and he sped up his jerks on his cock, wanting to be right there with her. “I’d grab your hair and pull you back, but I wouldn’t rush. Your pussy would clench me, holding on so tight.”

“Yes. I’m on fire for you. My fingers are inside, but they’re not enough. Not thick enough. Not hard like you’d be, driving in and out. Sam, shit, I’m almost—” She broke off and let out a cry. “I’m coming.”

“Yes.” He kept talking as she panted and groaned, his dual mental images of her making herself orgasm and him fucking Rory against the couch making him wild. Roughly, he surged into his fist, again and again. “You’d cry out my name when I reached around to flick your nipples, to grip one of your soft, perfect breasts in my hand. God, Rory,” he whispered, his hips rising off the sofa as his orgasm bolted through him and out in hot spurts into his hand, squeezing through his fingers. “Baby, I—fuck!”

“Do it, Sam. Come for me. All for me,” she murmured, goading him on, somehow extending the spasms twisting through his body.

When his shudders finally abated, Sam rolled his neck and let out a long breath. He was still trembling like a strung-out addict but sanity was returning. Unfortunately. With it came embarrassment.

His damp, sticky palm taunted him, a disturbing reminder that he hadn’t managed to come when she’d been with him. Had he been reduced to this? Coming alone in the dark with a woman he barely knew on the phone?

“Sam?”

Don’t
.
Don’t fuck this up.
“Yeah. I’m here.”

“Are you okay?”

“Better than.”

“Me too.” Her happy sigh prodded him out of his recriminations and even made him smile. What was his problem? He’d just had his first orgasm in who knew how long. That was something to celebrate. So what if he hadn’t done it with a woman in person yet? He’d get there. With Rory.

“You’re so good at that. I don’t come that hard even with my vibrator. No fantasy I could make up touches the sound of your classy, deep voice caressing dirty words.”

His laughter flowed out, and with it, the leftover questions about his competency. Fatigue drenched him, just as if they’d had real sex. It hadn’t been his imagination. They’d come together. Separately, but still together. “Glad it worked for you. You, ah, worked for me too.”

“We should probably go clean up. Not that I really need to much, but you…”

And so the awkwardness returned. That it had taken longer to descend, he counted as a minor victory.

“Yeah.” He hesitated, needing to say more. “Uh, thanks.”

“No, thank you. You’ve fueled my dreams for a month.” Her wine-slurred voice wound around him, deepening his exhaustion. He could just close his eyes and sleep. No nightmares. No ghosts. Just blissful oblivion.

“So I’ll see you Saturday,” he said, surprised by how much he was looking forward to it. “Meet you there at seven?” The game would already be in full swing by then, but he’d be stuck at the shop for a while.

“Saturday,” she agreed. “Bye, Sam.”

Chapter Seven

Dani,

I saw a woman who made me think of you today. She smiled and I fell back in time to that place where love was new and you didn’t look at me as if I was a stranger. Then she asked the date and everything slid back into place, like a time warp straightening out. She wasn’t you. But that was a welcome thing, because I’m not the me I was when I was with you anymore either.

~ Sam

S
aturday came sooner
than Rory expected. Before she knew it she was standing in front of her bathroom mirror, futzing with her hair and hoping she’d struck the right note with her gray jeans and hooded sweatshirt. Not sexy, not date-like. Just friends catching a game and having some wings together.

After having amazing, incredible phone sex five nights in a row.

She hadn’t expected him to call last Friday night. She’d assumed he would need a buffer of at least a few days to assimilate what had happened. Apparently not. Pam had taken that day off so she’d stayed to cover office hours until 8 p.m. She’d only just made it home after stopping at a diner for dinner when the phone rang.

And there he was, waiting for her on the other end of the line.

They didn’t jump right into the naughty stuff. They’d talked about their days first. About Junior and how the weather had turned drizzly. Normal, breaking-the-ice conversation. By the second hour, when innuendoes turned to outright suggestion, she’d been squirming and ready to go.

She’d called him the next night and since then they’d alternated. As if by mutual agreement, they’d only talked over the weekend, no nudity on either side. But by Monday night, when he’d whispered, “Are you feeling what I’m feeling?” she’d been so eager to hear his dirty commands that she’d practically come the first time he said the word
pussy
.

She grinned and leaned forward to slick more gloss over her lips. They looked full and pouty, and she’d added a sweep of dark blue shadow to her eyelids. She might be casually dressed but her makeup said she wanted to impress. So be it.

It had been years since she’d had a crush. The heat of it seemed to beat inside her, fluttering between her legs whenever she thought about Sam and his deep, sexy voice. She didn’t want to think about what would happen tonight after they left Loki’s, but it was hard not to. He made her want in ways she never had before.

“Damn unattainable men,” she muttered, capping her gloss and slipping it into the fringed purse she slung cross-body.

Twenty minutes later she sauntered into Loki’s and glanced around, locating her usual table of pals near the pool tables in the back. She slapped hands with a few of the guys, laughed through a round of hugs, exchanged a couple hip bumps with two of the guys’ girlfriends. All the while, she kept an eye out for Sam.

It wasn’t seven yet, but she’d wanted to catch more of the game. She’d already missed part of it with her primping.

Guess she was more of a girl than she gave herself credit for.

“Patriots are fuckin’ killing ’em!” Josh yelled, pounding a surprisingly small fist on the table. His skinny body didn’t match his booming voice.

“Yeah and your guy’s been mugging right and left,” Pete said, leering at her. “You almost missed him at his sweaty best.”

Rolling her eyes at Pete, she nevertheless directed her attention at the closest TV as she grabbed a handful of popcorn from the communal bowl. She and Pete had hooked up a few times, as had she and Josh. At different times, of course. They’d been her friends for several years, and she’d never hesitated to go for the benefits part of that equation. Why not? They were just having fun. But she definitely didn’t want Sam to get the wrong idea.

“So,” Pete said a few moments later, coming up behind her and lightly resting his hands on her hips. “Haven’t seen you around this week.”

Discreetly, she tried to keep one eye on the door and one on the TV. “Yeah, been working and,” she flailed for an excuse, “uh, staying home.”

“No kiddin’.” Pete pressed closer and used his nose to push back the hair near her ear. “You been staying home alone, Ror?”

“Yes.” That at least she could answer honestly. As for any other questions, Sam and what she and Sam were about was off-limits.

For one, she had no clue. Secondly she wasn’t going to gossip. Not about Sam.

“Sure about that?” One of Pete’s hands drifted up her rib cage, fingers stretching toward her breast.

“Yes,” she said again, taking a deliberate step away. To cover her need for distance, she grabbed one of the barbequed ribs dripping all over a platter in front of Josh and teasingly held it over her mouth until the sauce hovered at the end of the meat.

“Oh yeah. Lick that, baby. Don’t forget the special sauce.” Josh laughed and again she rolled her eyes, biting into the tender pork. She was used to the guys and knew they meant no harm, but she didn’t want to encourage them tonight. She didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable.

Or make him hightail it out of here, once he thinks you sleep with all your friends?

She wasn’t like that. Far from it. In fact, she could count her lovers on two hands.

Even if they’d numbered more than that, she had nothing to be ashamed about. She always used protection, kept things honest and made sure both parties had a good time. Married guys were off-limits, no exceptions, and—

And Sam’s married. Or he might as well still be.

The thought made her frown down at the rib still in her hand. Josh poured her a beer from the pitcher and shoved it toward her, sloshing a healthy amount onto her sweatshirt in the process. Two wet splotches appeared disturbingly close to her nipples and her pal Aaron chuckled and handed her some napkins. When she grabbed them, a glob of sauce joined the beer.

Great. Sam hadn’t even showed up yet and she was already a mess.

“Want me to clean you up?” Pete murmured, his light-blue eyes gleaming as he grabbed another napkin.

“No, I can handle it,” she said, dabbing futilely at the splotches.

But he wasn’t listening. He dipped his napkin in his water and went to work, smearing the sauce and managing to tweak her nipple at the same time. She immediately pulled away. Tonight wasn’t the night for games and she wasn’t about to let another guy feel up her breasts while she waited for—

The man currently standing in the doorway to Loki’s, silently watching her.

She swallowed, barely conscious of the war whoops sounding around her. Nothing registered but the utter darkness of Sam’s eyes. And when her gaze finally made its way to his mouth, that he wore a little smile and not a scowl. Her heart lurched into a frantic beat.

He wasn’t annoyed. Not that he necessarily had any right to be, but men could be funny that way.

“Hey,” she mouthed, waving the lone clean napkin she’d snatched off the table.

Sam smiled, all the way this time, and ambled over, reaching their group just as the Patriots made another touchdown and everyone cheered. Popcorn went flying when an errant elbow toppled the bowl, but Rory only laughed and grabbed a couple of pieces to toss in her mouth.

It would be okay.

“Hi, you,” Sam said as he moved behind her, his greeting almost getting lost in the noise. The words still thrummed through her body. Especially when he followed them up with a quick, blink-and-its-gone kiss over the top of her hair.

“Hi.” She tipped back her head to smile up into those serious eyes.

Except he wasn’t looking at her face. All his attention was directed on the two wet circles on her sweatshirt. Specifically, the erect nipples poking urgently through the cotton.

“Happy to see me?”

She grinned at his low question. “Of course.”

He jerked a chin at her friends, most of whom had yet to notice him in the melee. “This your regular crowd?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat as Pete suddenly glanced at her, then swung his gaze toward Sam. There wasn’t any jealousy in the look—they weren’t about that—just open curiosity. “Here, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Sam’s big body tensed behind her, but he nodded. “Sounds good.”

After introductions had been made, everyone settled back into the game as the waitress came up to get drink refills and to take Sam’s order. He asked Rory if she wanted some cheese sticks and onion rings and she said yes, already feeling a little sorry that onion rings probably meant no making out later.

Okay, a
lot
sorry.

Sam settled on a stool beside her and grabbed some popcorn, idly discussing the game with a couple of her friends. But he always included her in the conversation, and when the topic shifted to what he did for a living, he reached out to sling an arm around Rory’s hips. She stood there in the shelter of his big, beefy arm like a beaming student who’d just been presented with an attendance award. Cinnamon-and-spice aftershave and the faint aroma of motor oil tickled her senses, an irresistible combination. Even the dark smudges on his blunt fingertips aroused her, dragging her into a reverie about him with his head under the hood of her car, a sexy smile creasing his face as he murmured how dirty her spark plugs were…

“You coming back anytime soon?”

She shook herself at his soft question, finding herself trapped in his amused dark gaze. “Yeah. I’m here.”

“Nice to know.” He rested his hand lightly on the curve of her butt. “You look cute tonight, by the way.”

Only the slight waver at the end of his comment alerted her to his nervousness. He seemed at ease, but he probably knew how to hide his emotions.

She didn’t want him to hide from her.

“Thank you.” Deliberately, she let her gaze travel from his V-neck navy sweater, sans shirt so that wispy dark hair curled along the edges of the cotton, to his bleached jeans, loose on his powerful hips. “You too.”

He reached for his beer then took two sips and set it aside, a smile twitching on his lips. “Never been called cute before.”

“You are.” Without thinking about it, she leaned in to nip his strong chin, her gaze flicking up to his face to gauge his reaction. He sucked in a breath at the quick rasp of her tongue. “Very.”

His hand slipped down to palm her ass. “Rory,” he said, his pointed glances around the table making her realize they were being watched. Pete in particular seemed fascinated.

She moved back a fraction. As much as she understood him not wanting to attract attention, she didn’t intend to pretend there wasn’t anything going on between them. These were her friends.

“So you work on classic cars. Is that how you met our Rory?” Josh asked, snatching a handful of popcorn. “She mentioned she’d dinged her car in a fender bender last week. Though her heap of a car is hardly classic.”

Sam swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. It would be so easy for him to say yes, to take their meeting out of the realm of the strange and awkward to something natural. He opened his mouth, shot her a glance. Asking for help maybe. Help she had no problem giving. The story of how they met belonged to them alone.

“Yes, we—”

“No, we met at Rory’s job. The sign place. I’m one of her customers.” The minute Sam finished, he let her go and reached for his beer, then gulped it down. She was surprised she couldn’t feel his heart beating even from a few inches away.

“Oh. Cool. So what kind of cars do you work on? Anything you get a lot of?” Pete asked, his expression even more friendly than usual. He was a car fiend.

Aaron banged down his empty beer. “I got a classic Mustang. Cherry red, ’76. Pristine, man. She’s a fucking beast.”

“Yeah?” All at once, Sam’s tension drained away and again, he cupped her butt. Somehow it felt more like he needed to hold on to her than an attempt to cop a feel. Not that she would’ve minded, but this was even better.

She caught his eye and they shared a smile, one that snatched her breath. Even after he looked away and began talking shop with the guys, she struggled to recover.

Her only consolation was that she hadn’t fallen all the way yet. There was still that rational part of her brain that said it didn’t make sense to have feelings for a man she barely knew, billboards and phone sex and long conversations aside.

They had only scratched the surface of getting to know each other. Hormones didn’t count. Liking the little glances he threw her way as he spoke to her friends didn’t count either. Nor did how comfortable his barrel chest felt behind her when he encouraged her to lean back into his embrace as they watched the game.

His arms tightened around her and this time when her friends looked their way, he didn’t flinch. While everyone else cheered the touchdown that ended the game in the Patriots’ favor, he leaned down and clasped her earlobe between his lips. “You usually stay past the end of the game?”

Her already budding nipples decided to answer for her by pressing against her still-damp sweatshirt. “We can go whenever. I’m easy.”

At his half-smile, heat rushed across her cheeks. “I mean—”

“I like you just the way you are, Ror.” After a quick kiss on her temple, he settled her back in front of him and offered their goodbyes to the group. Everyone seemed genuinely sad to see them go, but she couldn’t claim the same as she walked out into the perfect moonlit night with Sam.

Ror
. She probably shouldn’t have even noticed his impromptu nickname for her, but she wasn’t that cool. In fact, she felt decidedly bumbling around this man.

God, she needed to get a grip before she started hearing harp music whenever he glanced her way.

“Sure that was okay?” he asked as they started to walk toward the adjacent parking lot, his hand securely gripping hers.

“It’s fine. I was eager to leave.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m not saying I wasn’t having fun. I’m just ready for the rest of the night to get started.”

When he stopped walking, she realized she’d said the wrong thing. Again. “I mean—”

“I was hoping we could just hang. You know, be friends.”

“Friends. Right.” Disappointment coursed through her as she tugged on her suddenly constricting purse. “I’m good with that.”

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