Picture Me Sexy (11 page)

A fire ignited in her womb, blazed up through her belly and licked her nipples. The breath stuttered out of her lungs in a small whoosh of longing and every wickedly depraved wonderful thing he'd done to her the night before last immediately leapt to mind. He looked up, smiled and absently licked his lips.

Astonishingly, Delaney imagined that talented tongue of his licking her in the most intimate of places. Remembered what he'd felt like there, between her legs, feasting on her until her body had
bowed off the sheet and she'd screamed her release into the night.

She was standing in the middle of a convenience store in God knows where, holding a chocolate Yoo-Hoo and
this
was what she was thinking. It was crazy. Insane. She was hit with the almost insatiable urge to drag him into the bathroom, turn off the light and have him take her hard and fast against the damned door, the way she'd never been taken. Her sex slickened, drenching her panties.

Something about what she'd been thinking must have shown on her face, because a blatantly sexy oh-so-knowing gaze glimmered in those overtly hungry dark eyes and he carelessly put down his selections and stalked purposefully toward her. Delaney held his gaze, bit her bottom lip as a thrill raced through her, reckless and willing.

“Come on,” Sam said roughly. He threaded her fingers through his and determinedly tugged her back toward the bathroom. Anticipation sang in her blood, forcing a stuttered laugh from her throat. She thought she heard herself say okay, but couldn't be sure.

Sam opened the door for her, then followed her inside. He simultaneously backed her against the door and flipped the lock, then framed her face with his hands and his mouth came down hungrily on hers. The first taste of him exploded on her tongue, made a low purr of approval sound in the back of her throat. He answered her purr with a greedy growl, sucked at her tongue, fed at her mouth.

Delaney wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, shamelessly begging for whatever he could give her. Her body craved his, desperately needed an orgasmic fix. Her pulse beat hotly between her legs, making her squirm more closely to him. Her nipples were pearled, her breasts achingly heavy and need raked across every nerve ending.

She felt him hard against her belly and groaned into his mouth. God, how she wanted him. She couldn't get close enough to him, though she'd practically scaled his body and crawled under his skin.

Sam left off her mouth and trailed a hot brand of sensation down her neck, and then lower still into the valley between her breasts. He reached and tweaked a nipple, forcing a startled “oh” from her lips. He bent down, sucked her through the thin fabric and wrenched another sound of pleasure from her throat. He positioned his hips between her legs and rocked in that absolute perfect place, one of the brass buttons from his jeans hitting squarely on her throbbing clit. Delaney's mouth opened in a silent gasp, and she pressed herself even harder against him, frantically mimicked his thrusting hips in a perfect rhythm. The bright sparkle of release hovered just out of reach and she so desperately wanted it.

Needed it.

Breathing hard, Sam left off her breast and increased the pressure and tempo beneath her waist. “Tell me what you want.”

Oh, God.

Delaney whimpered softly. She wanted him, dammit. “You know,” Delaney said brokenly, her voice a pleading rasp. And he did. He just wanted to make her say it, wanted to hold her accountable this time.

Sam's mouth found hers once more, suckled and fed, a hot thrilling mating of the tongues that simulated the exact thing that she wanted.

“Say it,” he told her, his voice husky with want.

Delaney squeezed her eyes shut. She was mindless with need, was practically coming out of her burning skin. Her breathing came fast and sharp and every cell in her body clamored for him to fill her, for him to push her to the edge of ecstasy and back again. She felt hollow and empty and needed him inside her more than she needed her next breath. It was madness. Insane. Wonderful.

“You,” she gasped. “I need
you.
”

Sam smiled against her lips, then blindly reached over and flipped the light switch into the off position, sending the small room into immediate darkness. For her, she knew. The thoughtful gesture made her chest tight, and when she could think clearly again, she'd properly thank him for it. But right now—

Sam reached down and pushed her pants and undies down and off, then dragged a couple of talented fingers through her drenched curls, fragmenting her thoughts.

“God, you're wet.”

Delaney cupped him through his jeans. “You're hard.”

He strangled on a laugh. “Well, that happens when you look at me….”

Delaney made swift work of the button closures, worked his pants and boxers down and wrapped her hand around the long, hard length of him. “Look at you like what?” Delaney asked distractedly.

Sam pushed himself against her hand once, then growled, drew back and fished a condom from his pocket and swiftly rolled it into place. “Like…nothing. I get hard when you look at me.” He chuckled. “Have been hard since I met you.”

Warm delight bloomed in her chest. “Well, I guess we're even then. I've been wet since I met you.”

“Good,” he said thickly. “That means we'll always be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“This.” Sam lifted her off the floor, forcing her to anchor her legs around his waist, then leaned her back against the door and slid into her in one long, swift movement that was instantly satisfying, yet somehow insufficient. Delaney let out a small gasp, clenched her aching muscles around him and wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck.

Sam found her mouth in another searing kiss and pumped frantically in and out of her, harder and faster, then harder still. Her belly quickened, her thighs tensed and she hovered on the brink of release.
Seemingly sensing her nearness, Sam abruptly changed tempo, still fantastic, but not enough to give her what she wanted.

The greedy sadistic wretch.

“Sam,” she pleaded, the frustration sweet. She clamped her muscles around him, equally dreading and enjoying the hot seek and retreat of his body inside hers.

Sam sucked in a tight breath and squeezed her bottom. “Say please,” he told her, a trace of laughter in his tone, clearly enjoying the power she'd unwittingly given him.

Oh, no, Delaney thought. She'd already begged him once. She wouldn't do it again. She used her vulnerable position as best she could and arched up and away from him, limiting his access into her body.

Sam tried to push farther into her, but he'd failed to remove his pants and his effort was hampered. She, on the other hand, while braced against the door, could use his shoulders to lift herself up and away from his questing thrusts. He was still inside her, but not as deeply, and clearly, Delaney thought when she heard his dark chuckle, not as far as he wanted to be.

“Oh, y-you are evil,” he stuttered breathlessly, and this time a hint of admiration was there.

He tried once more to bring her hips down, but Delaney remained firm, pushed herself against his shoulders. This time, he was the one who half
groaned, half laughed in frustration. “Delaney,” he growled brokenly, desperately trying to lodge himself more deeply inside her.

A thrill of feminine power raced through her. She kept herself annoyingly out of his desired reach. “Yes?”

“Please,” he finally relented.

Delaney sagged and he plunged fully into her. He pumped hard and fast, thrillingly pistoned in and out of her until she felt the tight screw of release finally snap and the sparkling burn of sensation burst and rain through her. He caught her scream of release in his mouth, ate every long orgasmic syllable of it as her body spasmed around his.

Three, four, five furious thrusts later, her legs still quaking, Sam's big body tensed and she felt a pool of heat press against her womb, giving her another deep sparkler of pleasure.

An abrupt knock at the door startled both of them. “Is everything all right in there?” a man's voice called.

Delaney buried her head in his shoulder to keep from laughing, and she felt a chuckle vibrate Sam's chest.

“Er…yes,” Sam said brokenly. “Everything's fine.” Delaney detected a slight note of innuendo in his voice and had to smother another laugh.

“Okay,” the voice returned, somewhat hesitantly. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“We're fine,” Sam repeated.

“Sir, are you aware that you're in the women's rest room?”

Delaney couldn't help it. She couldn't suppress a chuckle.

Sam's forehead touched her shoulder. “I am now,” he told him.

“Ma'am, are
you
all right in there? Do I need to call anyone?”

Oh, Lord. The attendant obviously thought she'd been dragged into the bathroom against her will. Sam tensed, then she felt another laugh shake his shoulders as realization dawned.

“I'm fine,” Delaney called. “No need to call anyone. Everything is fine.”

“Okay,” he called hesitantly, and they heard him shuffle away.

They both dissolved into quiet laughter, then quickly dressed and hurried from the bathroom. Delaney double-timed it back out to the SUV and when Sam joined her, he was distinctly red-faced and wore an adorably grim smile.

“I'm so glad I don't ever have to see that man again,” he said fervently. He exhaled mightily and slid his soda into the cup holder, then tossed her the candy bar she'd asked for. “The way he acted, you'd think he was your father. Started lecturing me about premarital sex and social diseases.” He shuddered.

Delaney frowned. “Sam?”

He cast her a glance. “Yeah?”

“Where's my Yoo-Hoo?”

His expression turned comically pained. “Ah, hell,” he said, then opened the door and retraced his steps back into the store.

Delaney laughed. She might have been unforgivably stupid for accepting this invitation…but being stupid with Sam was a lot more fun that being smart alone.

At least, for the moment, anyway.

T
HE LONG WINDING DRIVE
over the rolling hills and gentle valleys, and over the occasional stone bridge toward the estate was absolutely gorgeous, but her first glimpse of the mansion pushed a reverent ooh of wonder from her mouth and made her lean slightly forward in her seat.

Pictures, while accurate, didn't do justice to the sheer beauty, the mammoth size, of the gorgeous limestone castle. The stonework, the incredible attention to detail was visible even from this distance.

Sam smiled over at her, clearly pleased with her awed enthusiasm. “It's amazing, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she breathed, unable to drag her mesmerized gaze away. “So you've been here before?”

He nodded. “Many times. I try to make the trip at least a couple of times a year. It's breathtaking in the fall when the leaves change in the mountains. I like to canoe down the river behind the estate and just take it all in. I've gotten several really good shots. Have even sold a few.” He lifted one powerful shoulder in a negligent shrug. “And at Christmas, it's absolutely spectacular. Over fifty trees through
out the mansion and every room is decorated to the nines.”

“It sounds fantastic,” Delaney said.

“It is. Then in the spring, when the gardens are in full bloom…” He cast her one of those sexy-as-sin smiles. “Now, that is something to see. The Walled Garden has something like fifty thousand bulbs, tulips, daffodils, and Dutch iris. It's supposed to be one of the best examples of an English garden here in the States.”

Delaney nodded absently and continued to stare at the house as they drew closer and closer. A huge oblong fountain sat in the middle of a large, perfectly manicured courtyard. In turn, the courtyard was surrounded by a tree-lined cobblestoned drive that stretched out before the house and highlighted the massive size of the house. Excitement bubbled through her, pushing her lips into an irrepressible smile.

“In the summer they hold concerts out on the North Terrace. I came up one year and saw Billy Joel.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was great.” He pulled through the wrought iron gates that led to the Grand Court. “There's always something going on up here and it doesn't get any more beautiful. I really think that you'll enjoy it.”

“Oh, I know I will.” She had no doubt and she couldn't wait to get up to the house and start ex
ploring. Delaney's spirits drooped when a thought occurred to her. “Do you have to get immediately to work as soon as we get here?”

“Nah, not immediately,” Sam said, to her vast relief. “I thought we could check in, grab a bite to eat and go ahead and tour the house today. There are a couple of other tours we can take tomorrow—the rooftop tour and a behind-the-scenes tour that's really worth seeing—then there's the winery and the gardens and there are a couple of antique shops downtown that I'd like to hit before we leave. Does that sound all right with you?”

“Sure,” she told him. In fact, she couldn't have planned a more perfect weekend if she'd arranged it herself, Delaney thought, equally delighted and dismayed. Honestly, it was downright eerie how he seemed to be able to do just the right thing, say the right thing and always do it at exactly the right moment. Her muscles clenched with remembered pleasure and a flush warmed her from the inside out.

Like the bathroom.

She'd looked at him and thought about making it against the bathroom door—she, who had never had sex anywhere but in a good old-fashioned bed—and he'd stalked across that store, looked at her like she assumed the Big Bad Wolf would have gazed at Little Red Riding Hood, then hauled her into the bathroom and had proceeded to do precisely what she'd wanted him to do—take her hard and fast against the door.

It was almost as if he had a direct line into her thoughts, some mystical connection. Delaney dismissed the fanciful thought as ludicrous. He couldn't know her thoughts. He was just extremely perceptive and shared some of her interests. That was the novelty, Delaney decided. She'd never met a man like Sam Martelli.

Her gaze slid to him, lingered puzzlingly on his handsome profile while she tried to find some category he would fit into, but she'd just as well try to fit a square peg into a round hole. Sam was a niche onto himself. Defied categorizing. Like her, an annoying little voice whispered in her ear.

Just then the Tahoe crested a small hill and the Grand Court immediately loomed into view, forcing her thoughts away from that curiously revealing line of thinking. Pale gray in color, the grand exterior closely resembled the look of the mansion. Lots of windows and turrets, and spectacularly landscaped. Very posh.

Sam pulled up under the porte cochere. He handed the key to the valet, while another attendant opened her door. Within seconds their luggage and his equipment had been smoothly removed from the SUV and wheeled into the lavish hotel lobby. Soaring ceilings, maple-paneled walls and dark cream marbled floors added a quiet elegance to the room, while rich shades of red, green, and gold lent a classically extravagant air.

Sam laced his fingers through hers and they
strolled up to the check-in counter. A cute blonde with a better than average set of breasts beamed irritatingly at Sam. An unreasonable surge of jealously barbed through her, leaving her with the irrational desire to tell the blonde that she'd just had fantastic, gritty sex in a convenience store bathroom off I-40 with the very man she didn't have the tact to covertly ogle.

“Welcome back, Mr. Martelli,” she said warmly, the slut. A few efficient keystrokes and then, “Your usual suite, I see.” She keyed the cards, then slipped them inside an envelope and slid it across the counter. “Okay. That's got you. Will there be anything else?” The hopeful “Like me?” implication hung unspoken in the air.

An altogether too pleased gleam lit his gaze. Sam smiled his thanks, picked the envelope up and tapped it once on the counter. “No, that'll do it.”

“Good.” She gestured toward a bellman. “Anthony will see you to your suite.” The blonde finally deigned to acknowledge Delaney's presence with a cool sweep of her gaze and the look seemed to take her measure and find her unequivocally lacking. “I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay.”

Irritation spiked. Delaney smirked, let her gaze linger pointedly on Sam, and said, “I'm sure we will.”

Sam chuckled under his breath and guided her toward the elevator. “Retract the claws, honey. She's only being friendly.”

“Yeah. To you.”

Sam laughed, a deep masculine rumble that shivered her insides. The bellman held the elevator door open for them and Sam guided her in with a finger snugged deliciously at the small of her back.

“Yeah, laugh now, you wretch,” Delaney said, whacking him playfully on the arm. “But I guarantee you, were the situation reversed, you'd have your claws out as well.”

Delaney was pleased to note that a little of the male satisfaction that had clung to his smile faded as he considered what she'd just said. Then it vanished altogether.

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Would it be horribly tacky of me to admit that I liked the fact that you seemed to be a little jealous?”

A little jealous? Hell, she'd been a great deal more than a little jealous. She'd been ready to dive over the counter and go for that girl's throat. Completely unreasonable and yet she couldn't seem to help herself.

“Yes, it's tacky,” Delaney said primly. She poked her tongue in her cheek and rocked back on her heels. “But no more tacky than me practically smacking a ‘taken' sign across your groin,” she said drolly. “So you're forgiven.”

A strangled laugh erupted from the bellman, reminding Delaney that they weren't alone.

Sam's eyes widened and another laugh rumbled from his chest. “Thank you,” he told her, sliding a knuckle across her cheek.

The elevator drew to a smooth stop on the tenth floor. She and Sam followed the bellman down the hall. Seconds later, they were ushered into one of the plushest suites she'd ever seen—and she'd seen many. On the rare occasions Delaney traveled, she did so in style.

This suite had been named after the current owner of the Ravenwood Estate, James Morgan Pierce, and was housed in the turret. A king-size bedroom, spacious living room, dining room, wet bar and pantry were just some of the amenities in the luxuriously appointed set of rooms.

Decorated in shades of pale yellow and light blue, with fine reproduction antique furniture and a bank of curved windows that drew one's feet across the thick cushy carpet, Delaney instantly fell in love with the accommodations. Breathtaking views of the Blue Ridge Mountains were visible from every room, making one feel like part of the landscape. It was aesthetically pleasing, fed the senses, and highly—unquestionably—romantic.

Despite the fact that there was so much to see and do, Delaney came to the abrupt conclusion that staying in the room with him for the duration wouldn't be such a bad plan.

Her gaze drifted to Sam, who'd just tipped the bellman, and a desire erupted, sending little rivers of heat coursing through her blood. He'd just treated her to another one of those chocolate-covered orgasms less than an hour ago, and yet were he to so much
as crook his little finger, she'd wrap her legs around his waist again and beg him for another helping. He turned, met her gaze and a ready smile leapt to his lips, making something in her chest alternately tighten and expand.

“This is incredible,” she told him.

“I thought you'd like it.”

She grinned. “You thought right.”

Those gorgeous lips curled into a sexy half smile and he quirked a tentative brow. “Have I thought enough things right for you to let me take a few pictures of you this weekend?”

Delaney smiled and bit her lip. “That depends,” she said cautiously. She thought she knew what he had in mind and, surprisingly, she found herself receptive to the idea. Had even packed a few special Laney creations just for the occasion. Another baby step, another little victory, she thought, pleased with her progress.

Humor lightened his dark perceptive gaze. “On what?”

Delaney settled herself into a chaise lounge and toed her shoes off with a grateful sigh. “On what kind of pictures you want to take.”

“That's easy enough,” he said. “I want to take any kind of picture you're willing to let me.”

“Hmm. I'll think about it,” she hedged, though a secret thrill had kicked her heart rate up. “So, we're going to grab a bite to eat and then go over and tour the house, right?”

Sam nodded. “Right. I have to shoot the after-rehearsal dinner tonight, and the wedding tomorrow afternoon, but we'll still have plenty of time to do everything else that we'll want to do.”

Good, Delaney thought, because in addition to seeing the estate and all it had to offer, she wanted to have plenty of time to do him.

Repeatedly.

 

S
HE HAD THAT LOOK AGAIN
, Sam thought. That same come-pump-me look that she'd gotten in the convenience store. Those bright green eyes had gone all soft and dark with desire and she'd bit down on that bottom lip, and he'd known—
known
—that she wanted him.

Right then.

He'd been more than willing to accommodate her then—hell, he'd hauled her into the bathroom and taken her against the damned door—and he was more than willing to accommodate her now, if she were so inclined.

Sam was no stranger to sex and had participated in more than his share of strange sex, particularly in his younger days. He'd made it in a movie theater, in a car—
while driving
—a memorable yet unforgivably stupid act, and he'd even made it one of those little photo booths in the mall.

In more recent years, he liked to think that he'd matured and that his tastes had matured as well. Rather than perfecting the quickie as so many of his
male counterparts seemed to enjoy, he'd wanted to perfect drawing out the pleasure. He'd made a game of seeing just how far he could push a partner, just how far he could push himself. He took his time, because in his opinion, half the fun was the anticipation. He considered himself a true hedonist, had a passion for the process of seduction. He enjoyed every aspect of it, from the first kiss—that first mingling of breath—to the final thrust and shudder of ultimate climax.

But one little melting look from this woman and every bit of that practiced, controlled mentality evaporated. He became an unprincipled animal with no thought for anything but seeing how quickly he could plant himself between her thighs. It was madness, sheer madness, and yet somehow—with her—it seemed right.

Being with her in any shape, form or fashion seemed right.

“I'm hungry,” Delaney suddenly announced.

Sam laughed at the abrupt statement. “I am, too. Do you want to order room service, or go downstairs?”

“Why don't we go downstairs? I'd rather order room service for breakfast. We'll have time to unpack later, right?”

Sam nodded and thoughtfully stroked his chin. He'd need time to set up his equipment, but so long as they were back by six, he should have plenty of time to get everything in order.

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” Sam told her. “I'll have to see to my equipment, then spend a couple of hours downstairs working. After that, we'll have the rest of the evening and, so long as I've got my camera out, I might even snap a few of those pictures I asked you about.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Persistent, aren't you?”

“It pays to be persistent…particularly when you know the risk is more than equal to the reward.”

Something wicked shifted in her gaze. “Ah, but it also pays to be patient. Patience, after all, is a virtue.”

She wasn't so keen on patience when she wanted him a couple of hours ago, but Sam didn't think she'd appreciate that little insight. Still… “Occasionally patience can be overrated.”