More to Give (25 page)

By the end of the day, Callie’s feet ached, her back wasn’t speaking to her, and her cheeks hurt from laughter. When the locals weren’t telling jokes or making fun of each other, they took aim at Sam, who played the good sport and even gave as good as he got. More than once, Callie wondered if he’d downed a bottle of liquor on his way to the inn.

But his breath was normal, his eyes clear, and his full attention on her was making her feel all the things she shouldn’t be feeling about a man who would likely dump her in a matter of weeks.

Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. This new Sam acted more like he couldn’t get enough of her. He’d taken every opportunity to touch her. To brush by her or tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. And he looked at her differently. Sam rarely dropped his guard completely, outside of the moments when he was buried deep within her, and even then, Callie never felt as if he gave her everything.

Let her in all the way.

Maybe that was changing, though for the life of her, Callie couldn’t figure out what had brought on the shift. Was she imagining a difference? Was the hope that Sam would be happy to know she might stay clouding her mind and making her see things that weren’t there?

If that was the case, Callie needed to wake up from her dream world now, because in one afternoon Sam had knocked more holes in her defenses than she was comfortable with. She was already struggling to remember this affair had an end date, but at least if she’d lost her heart before then, there would have been distance between them to help her get over him.

Seeing him every day would make getting over Sam Edwards downright impossible. Maybe the real estate company wouldn’t offer her much. Perhaps she should leave no matter what. But she really did like this island.

“You look like you’re a million miles away,” Sam said, sneaking up behind Callie where she stood at the stove—though, to be fair, he probably wasn’t sneaking at all. She was too preoccupied trying to figure out her exit strategy for their relationship to have heard him enter the room.

“Just thinking,” Callie said, sliding too easily into the comfort of Sam’s arms.

Dropping a kiss on the side of her neck, he asked, “About what?”

Sharing her dilemma of living around him but without him didn’t seem like a good idea. So Callie lied.

“The renovation. I keep running the timetable in my head and coming up short.”

The second part was actually true. Nothing was exact, since she couldn’t know how many more islanders would show up in the next few weeks, but even the best-case scenario had them running over schedule.

“You’re off the clock,” Sam said, pulling her tighter against his chest. “Leave that alone for tonight.”

It was a good thing Sam couldn’t see her face, because Callie knew she must have looked shell-shocked. “I’m starting to believe you ran into some body snatchers this morning. Seriously,” she said, spinning to face him, “who the hell are you?”

The question didn’t seem to faze him. “I’m the man about to give you a bath.”

Callie blinked. “Uh . . . what?”

Without explanation, Sam reached around her to turn off the stove.

“Wait,” she argued. “That’s for the spaghetti.”

“The spaghetti can wait.”

Sam dragged Callie through the cottage, past the bed she’d failed to make that morning, and into the master bath. To her surprise, the giant soaker tub was filled nearly to the top, the water covered in a thick layer of bubbles. Instead of the harsh overhead lights, the scene was lit by a series of candles spread around the room.

“Where did you . . . ,” she started, but then Callie noticed that the condoms had been placed conveniently near the tub faucet. “Are we both getting in there? I thought you wanted a shower.”

“What I want,” Sam said, “is you. Covered in bubbles and nothing else.”

Her mouth went dry as Callie swallowed the knot that formed in her throat. He kicked off his shoes without taking his eyes off her. Mesmerized, she couldn’t look away as he reached for the hem of his T-shirt. Slowly, he revealed his incredible abs and then his chest, with its dusting of light brown hair.

The jeans were loose and hung low enough on his hips for Callie to worry her brain might actually ooze out her ears if he kept going.

“Unless you plan to get in with your clothes on,” Sam said, dropping the shirt to the floor, “I suggest you undress.”

Callie would have taken the suggestion, only she’d forgotten how to use her arms. And her legs. Her eyes continued to work perfectly, thank God.

“Do you need some help?” he asked, completely relaxed, as if he were offering to open a door for her, instead of getting her naked.

Nodding up and down, Callie remained silent. Clearly, her body was focusing all its energy on making sure not to miss a single movement of the man in front of her.

“I hope you plan to participate in this at some point.” His hands glided over her hips, then pulled the shirt up her torso, gracing her with his touch all the way up. “I like it when you tell me what you want.”

Callie had no doubt that what she wanted was written all over her face. But just in case, she whispered, “You could go a little faster.”

Sam shook his head. “Not tonight,” he said, putting word to action as he lifted the shirt over her head, then stood watching her, running his fingertips over her shoulders, her breasts, and the line of skin above her waistband.

“I feel like I’m melting,” she said, closing her eyes as he slowly drew the straps of her bra over her arms. “I don’t know if I can endure this.”

Sam nudged her chin, and Callie opened her eyes. “You can endure anything,” he said, his stormy eyes locked on hers. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

CHAPTER 25

T
hat wasn’t a line meant to get what he wanted. Sam believed what he was saying. And that made Callie believe it, too. Once again unable to speak, she nodded her agreement, and Sam returned to admiring her body.

He lingered around her breasts, touching and testing but not tasting. She wanted his mouth on her more than Callie wanted her next breath. “Please,” she mumbled, knowing he would understand.

And he did. “Not yet. Let it build.”

If she let it build any more, she was going to explode. The fact that Sam clearly had a plan was the only thing that kept Callie from demanding he move things along. It wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy what he was doing. She was enjoying it quite a lot.

“Can I touch you?” she asked, feeling meek and vulnerable for the first time since they’d fallen into bed together. “I want to touch you,” she said more forcefully.

“You can have anything you want, Callie.” Sam trailed his knuckles down her spine, then undid the clasp on her bra.

One shimmy of her arms, and the blue lace hit the floor. Callie slicked her hands over Sam’s abs the moment she was free. “So hot,” she said, exploring his ribs and then his chest. “Your skin is burning.”

“For you,” Sam replied, reaching for the button on her jeans.

Callie let him slide the jeans down her legs, sitting on the side of the tub so that Sam could remove them, along with her socks. Remaining seated, she reached for his zipper, relieved that he let her proceed without a struggle. What she hadn’t expected was to find nothing else to remove.

Looking up with a smile, she said, “Now who’s trying to kill whom?”

“I knew they were only going to come back off.”

Helping him step out of the jeans, Callie said, “Very practical choice.”

How she was even carrying on a light conversation, Callie didn’t know. There was nothing light going on in that bathroom. If anything, Sam seemed darker. More determined. Like a man about to claim something he’d fight to the death to keep.

After admiring his strong thighs, Callie looked up to see fire in Sam’s eyes. They’d gone beyond gray to black, and the teasing smile was gone. “Stand up, Callie,” he ordered, his voice sending tremors through her limbs. “We don’t want the water to get cold.”

Something told her that Sam’s stepping into the tub would have the water boiling in seconds. Heat radiated from his body as his mood grew more intense. For a split second, Callie felt a shiver of fear. This wasn’t playful sex. Sam was giving her more, but he demanded more in return.

How much could she give him and still have something left when they were over?

“You’re thinking too much,” Sam said, pulling her up with one hand. Pressing her palm flat over his heart, he covered it with his own. “No thinking tonight.”

His pulse beat a steady rhythm against her skin, strong and quick and full of life, and she knew what he was doing. Sam was offering her his heart. And Callie had only a split second to decide if she would take it.

He knew he’d gone too far by the look on her face, but Sam had no intention of turning back now. That didn’t mean he couldn’t retreat a little. No sense in scaring Callie away.

“You’re still thinking,” he said, his tone lighter. More teasing than intense.

“I’m a little curious,” Callie said, confusion and concern clear in her eyes. “The bubbles. The candles. They don’t seem like your style.”

Sam had clearly miscalculated. Though he didn’t doubt he could change her mind, Callie was still intent on keeping their relationship sex only. Admitting that he wanted more before she was ready was an amateur move, and he knew better.

Hoping to slow down that brilliant mind of hers, Sam touched all the places he knew would get a reaction. A knuckle over her nipple. A palm along her hip. A finger grazing along the band of her lace panties.

“There are sides to me you’ve never seen,” he said. “I thought I’d reveal a new one tonight.”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes growing darker, more hazy, as he maintained contact. “I’m starting to see that.”

Dropping kisses along her jaw, he whispered, “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

Callie locked her hands on his upper arms. “I’m not wearing anything but my underwear.”

“And that’s too much.” Sam laid his palms against her sides, slid them beneath the strip of elastic, and drove the delicate fabric down her legs in one swift movement. Without prompting, Callie stepped out of them, then pressed against him.

“Is that better?” she said, before clasping his left nipple between her teeth and taking the hardest part of him in her grasp.

Sam could only nod as the blood left his brain in a rush. He was supposed to be the seducer here, but she was taking over.

“What’s that?” Callie asked. “I can’t hear you.”

Because he was about to say the three words that would bring this encounter to an abrupt halt, Sam jerked Callie’s head up and took her mouth in a kiss that expressed everything he couldn’t say. The more he demanded, the more she gave, until he thought he might die from the need to drive into her.

Breaking the kiss with a growl, Sam stepped into the tub, taking Callie with him. They sank into the water together, and she settled on top of him instantly, as mindless with desire as he was.

“Oh my God,” she said, her head falling back as she lowered herself onto him. Sam lifted his hips to give her more. Callie gasped, her head popping back up and meeting his gaze. She continued to stare into his eyes as she rode him, smooth and slick, the water swirling with her movements, bubbles clinging to her breasts as they bobbed along the surface.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Callie pressed her mouth to his, nipping his bottom lip, sucking on his tongue. She was in full control now, and all Sam could do was hold on. But he wanted to give her more. Slowing her down, he broke the kiss and took her face in his hands.

He didn’t say a word, but Sam let her see what was in his eyes. See that this time was different.

Lowering his hands to her breasts, he molded them with his touch. Her eyes slid closed again, but her movements remained slow. Then his hands dropped lower still, until he was grasping her hips, thrusting with her. Finally, he pressed one finger to her clit, determined to send her soaring.

He selfishly wanted to watch her come against him. He wanted to give her pleasure, but Sam wasn’t beyond taking his own. Her panting turned to moans. Her nails dug into his skin. And then they both got what they wanted, as Callie’s body convulsed with a scream and Sam watched her visit the stars before he flew after her.

It wasn’t until they were both breathing heavily, and Callie’s face was tucked against Sam’s neck, that he realized they’d forgotten about the condoms.

Callie sat curled up in the blue chair, sipping her tea and watching the waves in the distance. There wasn’t much moonlight, so she could barely make them out in the darkness. But she could hear them. She needed to hear them in order to block out the screaming in her head.

She’d had sex with Sam without a condom. No, strike that. She’d made love with Sam without a condom. The chances were slim that she would actually get pregnant. She and Josh had been trying for months before that fateful weekend when he and Meredith had been killed.

Which was another reason the affair had been such a blow. She’d thought they were happy. That she would give Josh the beautiful babies that he wanted and then she would feel like she’d really done something, she’d contributed in some way.

But every month her period arrived and the light in Josh’s eyes dimmed that much more. He had hardly even looked at her by the time it had all ended so tragically.

Quite the ironic twist from then until now. Now Callie prayed her period would show up so she wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s looking at her as if she’d trapped him. Truth be told, she felt a bit trapped herself. A baby would put a serious damper on her career aspirations.

Callie could barely take care of herself and a bird. How the hell would she take care of a baby?

“You okay?” Sam asked, dropping onto the ottoman. Callie had left him to get dressed in the bedroom.

It had taken everything she had not to ask him to go home. She needed time alone to think. After what they’d done, she felt closer to Sam than ever before, which was the reason she wanted him to leave.

This was too much for one day. The possibility of staying on Anchor. A shot at stability and the chance to do what she loved. And then there was Sam. Precious, generous, never-going-to-marry-again Sam.

Add in the baby blip, and her brain was on overload. Though her heart wasn’t feeling all that great either.

“Things got a little out of hand in there,” she said, keeping her eyes on the waves. If she looked at him, she might say something she’d regret.

“That’s my fault,” he said, drawing her attention. None of the confidence he usually displayed was there. If anything, he looked scared.

Of course he was. He could be an unwilling father in nine months.

“Don’t worry,” Callie said. “I won’t hold you responsible.”

His brows slammed together. “What?”

Callie shook her head. “Josh and I tried for months, with no luck, so I’m sure it’ll be fine. But either way, you don’t need to worry.”

“Exactly what don’t I need to worry about?” Sam’s jaw was tight, as were his words.

“I mean—” she started, but he cut her off.

“Do you think I would turn my back on you if you were having our child?”

“No. I—”

“Or that I wouldn’t have a problem with you shutting me out of its life?”

This wasn’t going right at all. Why was he so mad? They didn’t even know if there would be a baby, and he was accusing her of shutting him out?

“I wouldn’t do that,” Callie argued, her anger growing to match Sam’s. “I don’t want you to think I’d trap you like this, okay?” Storming out of the chair, she didn’t even care that she was spilling tea everywhere. “I know you don’t want to get married again. I knew that when we started and this was supposed to be just sex, not love and marriage and babies. Good Lord, when did this get so nuts?”

Sam followed her into the kitchen. Why wouldn’t he give her some space? She needed to think, damn it.

“Are you saying you won’t marry me?”

Callie tossed her mug into the sink, then waved her hands over her head. “You don’t want to get married. I don’t . . . want to marry a man who doesn’t want to get married.”

“But what if—”

“What if there’s a baby?” Callie finished for him. “I don’t know. If there’s a baby, then I’ll deal with it.” She rubbed her forehead, struggling to keep the panic from taking her under. She would not have an attack. Not now. Not in front of Sam.

“
We’ll
deal with it,” Sam said, tugging her against him. “I have plans. It’s all going to be alright.”

She wanted to stay there, safe in his arms, feeling protected and cherished and as if she’d never have to worry about anything again. But then his words soaked into her muddled brain.

Pulling back, she asked, “What do you mean, you have plans? Plans for what?”

“For us,” he said, with a sappy grin on his face. “I’ll take care of everything.”

It was happening again. Someone else trying to dictate what her life would be, and all she had to do was smile and follow along. Callie couldn’t let that happen. Would
not
let that happen.

“Who asked you to take care of anything?” She bolted away from him. “I have plans of my own,” she said, poking herself in the chest. “And I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“Calm down, please,” he begged. “If you’ll hear me out, you’ll see that this is a good thing.”

All Callie could see was her weakness being thrown in her face. Her failure to stand on her own. And then there was the fact that Sam only wanted more now that he thought she might be pregnant.
She
hadn’t been enough to change his mind, but add a possible Edwards heir, and he had
plans
.

“You need to go,” she said, feeling the heat crawling up her neck. Breathing was getting harder, and she could feel a cold sweat coming on. If she could get rid of him, Callie would be able to get a grip. To stop the attack before it took over.