Worth the Risk (10 page)

He didn’t linger long, instead tobogganing down her body until he reached her panties. With a flick of his fingers, he had the satin moving down her legs, his body sliding off the bed in the process. Once they were removed, he flung them like a slingshot into the air, where they landed on the arm of the light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

And there was that damn irresistible grin again.

Then, like a panther, he preyed on her. She sucked in her surprise as his palms eased her legs apart, wider, and wider still, so he could access the glistening folds of her sex.

His breath touched her first, and she almost thrust into his chin. The tip of his tongue grazed over her swollen flesh. She spread her legs farther, arched her back enthusiastically, bit down on her bottom lip.

Samantha bucked against his mouth. Endless vibrations wove their way through her body. Her legs shook. She couldn’t stifle her moans. Her heart throbbed so forcefully in her chest she thought it might rupture. Holy cow, this was better than she remembered.

“That feels soooo good.”

She felt a smile cross his lips while he remained tight against her. Grabbing the back of his head, she ran her fingers through his hair, holding him snugly. The pressure hit just right, and a climax hit her so hard she grabbed the bed sheets to stop from lifting off the mattress.

Dean backed off slowly, lingering for a moment to kiss her thigh. He reached down to his pants, pulled a condom from the pocket, and sheathed himself.

He kissed his way up her body until he was positioned right where she wanted him most. He paused for a second, as if wanting to drive her mad with desire. It worked. She wrapped her hands around his waist and pulled.

The second he slipped inside her, she cried out. He moved slowly, then faster. Controlled, then carefree. She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out further. His thrusts had delectable coils of pleasure bubbling in her womb. She linked her legs around his thighs and met his pelvic ride with her own give and take, creating friction that had her ready to explode again.

With his hands on the bed on either side of her head, he bent his arms and lowered his mouth to her ear. He nibbled on her lobe, then moved to nudge the corner of her jawbone with his nose. Pressing back up, he whispered sweet nothings before capturing her mouth with his.

While slow, steady thrusts stroked her, his mouth indulged hers with kisses that set her on fire. She lifted her eyelids and found him watching her.

He shifted his pelvis upward and pressed against her until she couldn’t hold out any longer. A second wave of climactic bliss swept over her. This time she yelled out his name.

That was all it took to get him to unravel. Before she was through, he met her at the peak of ecstasy and they tumbled over together.

…

Lying with her in his arms, her back and bottom nestled against his front, Dean realized Samantha had raised the stakes. She was far beyond ordinary…far beyond him. He reminded himself they were together for tonight only. He’d be on a plane back to California on Monday with the Route 66 project in his pocket.

He’d been determined to take his time making love to her, wanting to treasure her, make it feel like the first time all over again. It took every ounce of his resolve not to drive inside her from the get go. Her sinful body had developed new, shapely curves. She’d grown into a sexy-as-hell woman.

But besides her outer splendor, her inner beauty impressed the hell out of him. He loved how she made him laugh and how she loved to tease. She was smart, outgoing, willing to try new things. He didn’t think she feared anything. Save dropping a drink on her lap or tripping over something.

A chuckle escaped his lips.

“What’s so funny?” she murmured. She turned to face him, her satiated eyes settling on his.

“Nothing.”

She gave him a closed-mouth smile, accepting his answer without any further inquiry. “Be right back. I need to use the bathroom.”

As she left the bed and walked away, he couldn’t pull his gaze from the outlines of her naked body. Even in the dim light of the room, she stole his breath.

Dean sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard of the bed. He let his eyes drift shut for a couple of minutes before he reached over and flipped on the lamp sitting on the bedside table. When he looked back in the direction of the bathroom, Samantha stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip, the other on the doorframe.

“So big guy, getting hungry now?”

His dick twitched and started to rise. Her suggestive stance had all his synapses firing—he wanted round two. “I think I need to have you one more time before I think about food.”

“Oh, really?”

“Damn straight.”

“Well, that’s good, then, because I had the same thing in mind.” She sauntered to the bed and climbed on—literally.

“God, what you do to me,” Samantha purred. She raked a fingernail down his chest.

At that moment, Dean was speechless.

He still loved her.

But damned if he knew what to do about it.

He’d every intention of keeping Samantha within arm’s reach.

Her scent lingered on his skin. A mix of honeysuckle and gardenia driving him mad with desire this morning. Waiting for her to come out of the bathroom was pure torture. He wanted to jump her bones.

But he wouldn’t. He’d decided there would be no body contact this morning. He couldn’t think straight when she touched him. Even a simple brush by his arm sent do-me signals spiraling to his brain. He needed to put some distance between them, remind himself this was a weekend affair. Remember he didn’t do attachments.

Too late, bucko.

They’d woken up around eleven, Dean having slept more soundly than he could remember. He’d awoken to her head on his chest, her leg draped over him, and the cadence of her heart beating along with his. He could still feel it against his side, and a cascade of peaceful warmth spread through him.

“I hope you saved me something.”

She exited the bathroom wearing his T-shirt and a grin. A vision he could get used to. The curves of her body were evident, her long, lean legs painfully appealing. Golden locks fell around her shoulders like she’d simply run her fingers through the tousled strands. But her eyes. Oh, how they did him in. Her eyes sparkled like treasure in a shallow river flow.

Damn.

Taking the seat across from him, she studied the buffet left for her.

“I tried to leave you a little of everything.”

“
Little
being the operative word,” she teased, placing a napkin across her lap and picking up a fork.

“Hey, what can I say? I worked up an appetite. And it’s not like I haven’t been trying to get you out here.”

She smiled. “It’s the perfect amount. Thank you.”

Dean watched her eat, mesmerized by the simple act of Sam putting food in her mouth. He hadn’t spent the night with a woman and woken to have breakfast with her since, well…since Samantha.

The thought knocked around his head for a minute. He’d had plenty of dates over the years, but no one sparked enough interest to warrant his undivided attention. No one interested him more than the work he did, the travel he thrived on, or the projects he devoured with every ounce of energy he had.

Now, a little over a year into his own company, the Route 66 project on the horizon, he didn’t think life could get any better.

Could it?

“So, do you have anything planned for today?” he asked.

Samantha eyed him while she finished chewing her food. Her jaw kept moving for much longer than necessary to make the eggs ready for swallowing. Was she stalling? Trying to decide if she wanted to spend any more time with him?

His gut tightened.

Her captivating lips looked ready to answer when the telephone rang. Holding up a finger, she stood to get it. Dean watched her, his shirt reaching just below the curve of her ass, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep his hands-off vow. Reaching for the receiver, she plopped down on the bed, exposing more skin for him to drool over.

I need bacon.
With her occupied, he took the opportunity to sneak a piece. Anything to get his mind off her body. Like pork would do the trick? Only if he choked on it.

“Hello? Gretchen? Is everything okay?”

She glanced over at him, catching him in the bacon act. Titling her head, she gave him a look that said,
Paws off, buddy.

“What? When? I can’t believe he’d do that. I can’t believe he’d stoop so low.” She shifted uncomfortably on the bed and gave him her full back. “No, I haven’t talked to him. Not since I left four months ago.”

She’d lowered her voice, but Dean heard every word. Unease lanced through him. He noticed Sam’s shoulders drop and knew whatever news she’d just received had something to do with her father. He seemed to recall Gretchen was the name of her sister.

“Thanks for letting me know. I think… No. No news on the account yet. I’ll know tomorrow morning… Yeah, you too. ’Bye.”

Dean watched Samantha slowly hang up the phone. What felt like minutes passed before she stood and returned to the room service table.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, her guarded-yet-injured expression killing him. Despite doubts that anything he said would help Samantha, he had to try.
Wanted
to try.

“It’s nothing,” she said, sitting back down and scooping up a piece of bacon.

“Sorry, but you only get one of those.”

Confusion clouded her weary eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You said ‘It’s nothing’ to me last night. This morning, it doesn’t fly. Not after the last twenty-four hours we’ve had together. Maybe I can help.”

Her expression softened before resolve replaced it. She didn’t want to let her defenses down around him, and hell, he couldn’t really blame her for that. Whatever transpired between them, it didn’t go beyond tomorrow.

A deep breath that did really nice things to her chest preceded her answer. “My father decided to take back the present he’d given me for my last birthday. My sister stopped by my apartment yesterday to bring in my mail and found my
car
hitched to a tow truck. It seems he not only wants to leave me without any financial security, but without a means of personal transportation as well.”

“At least you’ll save money on gas.”

She arched an eyebrow. “There is that.”

“Sounds like he misses you. Wants you back at the company.” Dean’s dad had acted similarly when Dean told him about his plans to start his own business. His dad hadn’t let Dean go without a few choice words and reminders of what he was leaving behind.

Now the opportunity to work with the company that had taught him everything he knew filled him with bone-tingling enthusiasm
and
comfort.

“More like he wants to be in control of me. I told him when I left that I wanted to make my own way, but he just doesn’t get that. He likes to take care of people whether they want his help or not. I was miserable working for him, and he ignored it. All he could see was his own reputation, bringing in his daughter to lend more clout to his powerhouse firm.”

“Maybe he didn’t realize how unhappy you were?”

Sam’s gaze shifted over his shoulder, a faraway look in her unfocused eyes. After a few seconds she said, “He knew. He didn’t care. Never has. And I guess this whole situation is my own fault. I wanted to be left to my own devices, and he’s certainly making sure that I am.

“He told me when I left that I’d amount to nothing.” She flinched, as if hearing those words directed at her again. “I thought he meant professionally, and I was more determined than ever to prove him wrong. Now I realize he meant personally, too. God forbid he should leave me with something to fall back on as I start out in a new profession. It’s not like I didn’t work my ass off for him.”

Dean reached his hand out to take hers. The coldness of her palm burned him with the urge to keep her from feeling pain ever again. “I’ve no doubt you’ll prove your father wrong. You’re going to leave an extraordinary mark on the world of heritage conservation.”