The One She Left Behind (Harlequin Super Romance) (15 page)

“Do you really think that’s such a good idea since we’re both naked?”

“Probably not.”

With their gazes locked together, Savannah felt as if they were suddenly suspended in a defining moment,
where the good part of their past had collided with that continual chemistry. Right then, she didn’t care about the possible penalty attached to acting on impulse. She only wanted to satisfy her curiosity.

As she slid her palms over Sam’s back, she became keenly aware of the changes since she’d done this over a decade ago. His shoulders were much, much broader, his muscles much more defined. He’d definitely evolved into a man. An extremely tempting man.

He stopped moving and surveyed her face with intense blue eyes. “Do you remember when we used to do this?” he asked, his low voice resurrecting more than a few magical moments.

“Yes, but we always wore our swimsuits back then.”

He grinned. “Yeah, at least for a little while.”

“True.” He’d always managed to divest her of her bikini top if nothing else.

“How about this?” He lowered his head and softly brushed her lips with his, once, twice, before he kissed her in earnest.

Sam had always been such a good kisser—the best, in her experience. So many men believed that the way to a woman’s heart meant sticking a tongue down her throat. Not Sam. He used tender persuasion and unhurried exploration. She found herself clinging to him for dear life, fearing the control he had over her yet in some strange way needing to be controlled by him. Needing more from him than she should.

As if he’d read her thoughts, he nudged her until she was flush against him where she contacted the confir
mation that he wanted her. And he was very close to having her.

Apparently Sam had a brief moment of clarity when he broke the kiss and put some much-needed space between them without taking away his hold on her. “You better stop me now before this goes any further.”

The command hovered on Savannah’s lips, yet she could not force it out. She couldn’t manage even the slightest protest. “What if I told you I don’t want you to stop?”

He looked more than a little concerned. “And I don’t want to do anything we’ll both regret.”

She laid a palm on his cheek. “I don’t know how to explain this except to say I need to feel alive. I need to forget all the bad, even if it’s only for a little while. I just need—”

He halted her words with another brief kiss. “Trust me, I know exactly what you need.”

“I do trust you, Sam, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” And that was a truth she never planned to admit.

“Then, babe, that’s all I need to hear.”

Other men had used that
babe
endearment during Savannah’s lifetime, and she’d never cared for it at all. Yet Sam wielded the word with familiarity and so much power that she suddenly didn’t give a darn about regrets. She only knew she’d been alone for far too long.

As Sam kissed her once more, Savannah immersed herself in the sensations. She became that girl again, the one who reacted to this boy—this first love—as if time had stood still. And when he breezed his lips down the column of her throat, nothing else seemed to matter
except this moment and this man. Not all the old accusations. Not the hateful words. Not even the fact that this was only a temporary diversion from the stress of a hectic life that had had her in a choke hold for years. From the sorrowful reminders of loss.

As Sam closed his warm mouth over her breast, Savannah responded to the gentle pull of his lips with the same intensity as she had the first time he’d done this to her, with a surge of heat and an overwhelming longing for more.

He anticipated her needs by skimming his hand along her waist before sliding it to her belly and lower still. It all began to come back to Savannah, the realization that he did know exactly where and how to touch her. How to make her forget everything but him. How to make her tremble, which he did with every gentle stroke.

Too long, she thought as she began to slip into a welcome haze. Too long since she’d felt this way. Maybe never this way since him.

Sam brought his lips to her ear and told her how good she felt, how he’d been imagining this since the moment he’d seen her in the diner, and then softly whispered, “Let go, sweetheart.”

As much as she wanted the sensations to continue, Savannah couldn’t stop the powerful release, or the physical jolt that accompanied it. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking even as Sam held her close and kissed her gently while the climax began to ebb and her breathing returned to normal. Then came the tears, as unexpected as the quickness in which she’d responded to his touch.

She couldn’t quite peg why she’d begun to cry—shame
or sentimentality. She couldn’t seem to halt the emotions any more than she could stop clinging to Sam.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he stroked her hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He had hurt her, but not from his actions a few moments before. The wounds he’d inflicted years ago should have healed by now, but sadly they hadn’t, though Savannah had wrongly convinced herself they had. All that bottled-up pain had somehow worked its way to the surface, and she hated that she couldn’t temporarily live for the moment and let the past die.

“I’m okay,” she said as she tipped her forehead against his chest so she wouldn’t have to see his reaction. After she finally composed herself, she looked up at him and smiled. “I’ve developed a syndrome over the past few years. Orgasmic hysteria. Some people sing during the throes of passion, I bawl like a baby.”

That earned Savannah his notable smile. “That good, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky,” she said. “It’s just been a while for me.”

“I know what you mean.”

Savannah had a difficult time believing that. She also had one heck of a time ignoring the fact that he was still quite in need of attention. “Anything I can do for you?” she found herself asking against sound judgment.

He brushed a damp lock of hair away from her cheek. “Not unless you can manufacture some birth control.”

Now might be a good time to tell him she was on the Pill, even though she hadn’t needed it for a while. Then again, that would alleviate one major reason for
not completely making love with him right then, and she wasn’t quite ready for that.

In spite of her continued caution, a boldness Savannah hadn’t experienced in a long while overcame her. She reached between them and followed the same path down his abdomen that he’d followed down hers. She wasn’t that naive girl he’d once known, and she was determined to establish that fact with a little touching of her own.

Before she reached her intended target, Sam pulled her hand up and clasped it against his chest. Apparently he didn’t appreciate her taking the lead. “Sam, I—”

He held his hand over her mouth, whispered, “Be quiet,” then nodded toward the bank.

Savannah followed his gaze to discover a beam of light bobbing in the distance. A light that—to her absolute horror—suddenly swung around and landed right on her face.

“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, if it ain’t little Savannah Greer.”

“T
HAT WAS ONE OF THE MOST
mortifying experiences of my life.”

Savannah’s declaration broke through the cloud of silence that had hung over them since they’d climbed into the truck for the return trip to the farm.

As far as Sam was concerned, up until the interruption, it had been one of the best experiences he could immediately recall, even if he had momentarily forgotten his plan to prove he was a better man. “Do you mean getting caught or me copping a feel?”

“Both.”

He felt the need to defend himself. “Hey, I handed you the chance to stop me, but you didn’t take it. In fact, you encouraged me. It’s a little late to take it back now.”

She nailed him with a glare. “And you encouraged me to go into the pond without my clothes, knowing what might happen if I did.”

She had him on that. “Then let’s just say we’re both to blame and drop it.”

“Agreed.”

As soon as he pulled into the drive, Sam shifted the truck into Park and cut off the ignition. “We were lucky Frank Allworth caught us and not Chase’s dad. Oth
erwise, we’d probably be sitting in the county jail for trespassing and public lewdness.”

Savannah’s eyes went as wide as tire rims. “Lucky? Do you not remember who’s married to Frank?”

He’d been trying to forget. “Yeah, and Pearl’s got a big mouth. But that doesn’t mean Frank’s going to say anything to her.”

“Oh, sure. I’m surprised she wasn’t with him. And on that note, what was he doing there?”

Messing up a damn fine time. “Since he lives across the road, seems Wainwright hired him to sit on the porch at night to protect the place from trespassing teenagers.”

“And overage idiots.” Savannah powered down the window, leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. “I swear, the minute I stepped back into this town, I haven’t been acting like myself.”

Sam didn’t share that opinion. “You’re acting just like the girl I used to know.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but that girl doesn’t exist anymore.”

He draped his left arm over the steering wheel and shifted slightly to get a good view of her face. “I think deep down she still does.”

She shot him a dirty look. “Just because we used to be high school sweethearts, and just because I had a serious lapse in maturity a while ago and we made out for about ten minutes, that doesn’t mean you really know me.”

Made out completely naked and he gave her one hell of an orgasm, he started to remind her but thought better of it. Instead, he chose to prove exactly how well he
knew her. “I bet you still set your alarm an hour earlier than necessary because you hate to be late, but somehow you manage to make it wherever you’re going with only a couple of minutes to spare. I imagine you still eat cereal for breakfast, the fruity kind with the marshmallows. And it’s likely you still pretend you don’t care for pro football but you can rattle off statistics till the cows come home. Am I right?”

She muttered something under her breath that Sam didn’t understand, but he doubted it was flattering. “You don’t drink beer but you like your glass of wine on occasion,” he continued. “You own about a dozen pair of panties in different shades of pink even though you won’t admit it because it makes you seem too girly.”

She sent him a glare that could stop a schoolyard bully’s reign of terror. “Are you done yet?”

“Not until you admit I’m right.”

She shrugged. “Okay, you’re right. You know my habits. Again, that doesn’t mean you know me.”

She was dead wrong on that count, too. “I still know which of your buttons to push.”

She rubbed her temples as if she had one heck of a headache. “Let’s just leave my buttons out of this, okay?”

He ignored her acid tone and said, “I also know if you’re having fun or not. And lady, a little while ago, you were having a damn good time.”

“I don’t know that I’d qualify what we did as a good time.”

A surge of anger hit him full force. “I’d say by the way you were moaning, you enjoyed yourself just fine.
Or maybe you just didn’t get enough of what you
needed
from me.”

She fumbled with the seat belt for a second before finally releasing it. “I’m too tired to listen to this.”

Savannah’s sudden exit from the truck told Sam he’d hit a nerve, but that didn’t mean he was done with her yet. For some reason, he wanted her to confess that her life wasn’t all that great. That maybe she hadn’t found what she’d been searching for after all.

Sam slid out of the driver’s seat and followed her onto the porch, where he caught her arm, forcing her to look at him. “You can talk until dawn about how much you love going to work every day to your fancy job and coming home to your fancy condo,” he said. “But you sure as hell won’t convince me that you’re all that satisfied with your life. Otherwise, I don’t believe you’d be here with me.”

She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “You have no idea what my life is like. Yes, I spend a lot of time at work and yes, I go home at night alone. But what about you? You work like a dog from sunup to sundown to save a way of life that—by your own admission—is dying. And for what? To prove you’re a sucker for a lost cause?”

Obviously he was a sucker since he was still trying to sell her on small-town living. “Farming isn’t a lost cause, Savannah, and neither is Placid. It’s all about community. At least people around here have your back when you need them.”

“You mean they know your business.”

He couldn’t exactly argue with that. “Maybe so, but
I know I can count on them, and they can count on me if the need arises. This place also taught me to shoot straight and when I make a promise, my word is as good as gold. Can you say the same for your Chicago buddies?”

Her laugh sounded skeptical. “Your word is as good as gold? That’s rich, Sam. I’ve seen you break a promise without batting an eye.”

He sensed they were about to enter some fairly tough emotional terrain. “I’m sorry about the damn prom.”

“I’m not referring to the prom. You promised me you were going to apply to Northwestern so we could go to college together.”

“I did.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could take hold of them.

Savannah stared at him blankly before the comprehension light turned on. “When did you do that?”

He had no good reason to continue this conversation, but he’d already backed himself into the confession corner. Might as well lay it all on the line. “I applied about the same time you did, and I got rejected two days before you got accepted.”

“Rejected?” She sounded as stunned as she looked.

“Don’t act so surprised, Savannah. Unlike you, I only had average grades and I sure as hell didn’t have the means to buy my way in. But they were kind enough to invite me to reapply in the spring.”

Her face softened with sympathy and Sam hated that more than her anger. “Why didn’t you say something?”

He’d considered it before he’d come to his senses. “I didn’t see any point in telling you because it wasn’t
going to make you any less gone. You already had your head set on getting out of town as fast as that old Mustang would let you, with or without me.”

“But you could have come later,” she said. “You could have been the first in your family with a degree. You said that’s what you always wanted.”

“And that’s exactly what I got—a four-year degree in agribusiness with a minor in marketing right here in the fine state of Mississippi.”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm when she said, “Good for you. I’m so glad you had the decency to finally tell me.”

He’d failed to tell her a lot of things. “I just figured you didn’t care one way or the other, Savannah. You went on with your life and I went on with mine.” And that’s exactly how it would be when she packed up and left again in a few days.

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter now,” she said. “But it did that day in the diner when you went on your verbal attack as if I’d done something wrong by trying to better myself.”

And he’d been forced to live with his sorry actions for years. “I was a kid with too much pride, and you were a girl who thought her dreams were a whole lot more important than mine.” Just like it had been between his own mother and father. “You always thought you were too good for Placid and me.”

“If that’s what you believe, then I don’t see any reason to continue this conversation, even if you are wrong.” She whipped around and grabbed the door handle while Sam began the countdown.

Three…two…one.

As predicted, she spun around to get in the last word. “And for the record, I firmly believe all your talk about friendship is a ruse. You want more from me than that, but you don’t have the guts to follow through because you’re afraid it’s more than you can handle.”

He was on her in a flash, bracing both hands above her head, trapping her against the door with his body. “Lady, I’ve got twenty bucks in my pocket and some hard proof down south that says you’re dead wrong.” He pressed against her, driving home his point.

Her brown eyes reflected the heat that had been brewing between them since that day in the workshop. “Then prove it.”

Sam had learned a long time ago that anger was one hell of an aphrodisiac. It made a man do crazy things, even knowing he ran a huge risk on several levels. He had more than a few reasons why he should quit while he was ahead, but the way he felt right now, he probably couldn’t stop short of the roof caving in.

When they made it into the house, Savannah didn’t bother to turn off the light and Sam didn’t bother taking her to the bedroom. He did take off his shirt while she took off hers, and then shoved his jeans down while she did the same with her shorts. After that, he backed her up against the paneled wall with no regard for propriety, like the horny teenage kid he used to be.

Without formality, he lifted Savannah up, wrapped her legs around his waist and sealed the deal.

This wasn’t a rosy reunion or at all what he’d imagined when he’d fantasized about making love to her
again—taking her up against a wall, his pants around his ankles and his boots still on his feet, for a fast round of raw, mind-blowing sex. Normally, this whole scene would be fine with him—hurried and hot. But with Savannah, he’d wanted to take it slow, show her what he’d learned in her absence. Take her places she’d never been before, at least not with him. But their verbal foreplay and her challenge didn’t allow for a lot of leisure.

Sam wasn’t all that surprised when Savannah climaxed almost immediately since she’d always been fairly quick to fire. He just hoped the same didn’t hold true for him. But when she raked her nails down his back and made a noise that sounded a lot like a muffled scream, she didn’t afford him the luxury of taking his good, sweet time.

Sam closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and muttered a one-word curse when the force of the climax roared through him like a freight train. He fought for air, fought to recover, fought to remember the last time he’d felt this damn good. Probably back in their youth, when they’d been so wrapped up in each other that every moment they spent together was an adventure. When he’d convinced himself that he would never find another girl like her. That he would never feel that deeply for another girl. He hadn’t and most likely never would, something he’d take out and examine later.

After he slowly lowered Savannah to her feet, they just stood there for a few moments, the sound of their ragged breathing bouncing off the walls of the empty house. If he knew what was good for him, he’d put on his pants and head hell-bound for safety before he asked
to stay the night. But where she was concerned, he’d forgotten all the lessons he’d learned about the difference between wisdom and wanting. Speaking of a lack of wisdom…

“We forgot the damn condom,” he managed to grate out.

“I’m on the Pill,” she said.

“You would’ve saved me a whole lot of grief if you’d mentioned that sooner.”

“And you’ll save me a whole lot of worry if you assure me safety isn’t an issue.”

“Trust me, it’s not.” He hadn’t bypassed the condom route since his marriage ended.

When Savannah ducked under his arm, Sam yanked up his jeans and turned around in time to see her pulling her shorts back into place.

“I need to shower,” she said as she snatched the T-shirt from the floor and slid it over her head, much to Sam’s disappointment.

“I could use one, too.” And he wouldn’t mind compounding his mistakes tonight by joining her.

She put an end to that wish when she said, “I’ll use the bath upstairs and you can use the guest bath down here.”

So much for the afterglow of lovemaking. “Fine.” He picked his shirt up but didn’t bother to put it on. “I’ll meet you in your bedroom.”

“We both need some sleep, so you may let yourself out.” Then she rushed up the stairs like a house afire.

Savannah had gone from willing woman to ice princess in about ten seconds, and that really ticked him off.
Normally he’d welcome an excuse for a quick exit, at least with most women. But she wasn’t most women. She never had been.

For that reason, he opted to spend very little time in the shower in order to cut her off at the pass. After he was done, he scaled the stairs and entered her bedroom to await her return, probably at his own peril. He found it ironic that she was the one shutting down, which was usually his trick. But he also knew how to draw her out. At least he used to know.

For the next twenty minutes, Sam walked around the room and surveyed all the trinkets that had been there since the first time she’d allowed him inside. He made his way to the bed and picked up a pink teddy bear positioned on the pillow. The same bear he’d won at a midway booth at the festival—not long before everything had come apart.

When he heard approaching footsteps, Sam tossed the bear back on the bed and turned toward the door.

Savannah strode into the room while towel-drying her hair and stopped short when she spotted him, looking mighty unhappy that he hadn’t left. “Do you not remember how to find the front door?”

He didn’t like her attitude any more than she liked finding him still hanging around. “I’m not leaving until we discuss what just happened.”