Worth the Risk (7 page)

This was so not the position she should be in. But all eyes had swung to them, and she would not falter in front of strangers. Not completely sure what to do to keep her balance, she put her arm around Dean’s neck.

Being so close to him, touching him, sent a rush of warmth through her.

Crap, she was in trouble.

Dean wrapped one arm around her waist while the other fell across her thighs. They looked at each other, their faces only inches apart. If Samantha had to guess, she’d say the grin he wore meant he was pretty happy with their position.

“Two minutes, fifteen seconds,” someone shouted, drawing Samantha’s attention away from Dean.

The group shifted their eyes to the couple who had just finished kissing. They were each guzzling a glass of water while cheers and jeers passed among the witnesses. When they finished drinking, sly smiles spread across their faces.

“Not the best time, not the worst,” Joe’s booming voice acknowledged as he stood and looked around. “Who’s game to try next?”

Samantha leaned her head to Dean’s ear and whispered, “Try what?”

“How about Dean and Samantha?” someone shouted, followed quickly by more votes for the pair.

“What do you say, Dean?” Joe looked at them with raised eyebrows. “Up for a little hot-sauce challenge?”

“I’m game if she is.” Dean regarded Samantha’s quizzical expression then added, “Hot sauce is a kissing game where we each get hot sauce on our tongues, then make out to see how long we can last.”

Samantha gulped and looked at his lips. They were sinfully appealing, but she had no intention of connecting with them again. “No, thanks.”

“Aww, come on!” someone from the crowd shouted.

“You chicken?” Dean asked.

“What? No. I just see no reason to kiss you if I don’t have to.”

“I’ll do it!” a female voice shouted.

Samantha tried to stand, but Dean held tightly to her waist. “I’m not doing this with anyone but you.”

She relaxed against him. He always knew exactly what to say. This time, though, so did she. “Sorry, Dean. I’ve got to go.”

He cupped her cheek and looked deep into her eyes. “One kiss, Sam. I dare you.”

Damn him. If she didn’t agree, he’d think he won something here, and she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let him beat her over a silly kiss. Especially if he thought his kiss would distract her from the reason she was in town.

“Fine. I’m game.”

Whistles and sighs echoed around their corner of the bar while Joe grabbed two bottles of hot sauce off the table. “The rules are”—he looked at Sam as he spoke—“time starts when I say go. Your lips must stay in contact. Tongue is optional. As soon as you part, time stops. Ready?”

With eyes stuck on each other, they nodded. Joe stood over them with a bottle of sauce in each hand and they simultaneously tilted their heads back to receive several drops on their tongues.

“Go!”

The second Dean’s lips touched hers, she immediately forgot about the hot sauce. Not that it bothered her to begin with. She loved spicy food, but the burning sensation on her tongue held no comparison to the burn sweeping through her body as his lips pressed against hers.

The kiss started off slow, a gentle connection that reminded her of the first time he’d taken her mouth to his. Just as they’d paused to catch their breath while hiking up Yosemite Falls Trail, he’d gingerly leaned in for a taste. Something about the way the perspiration glistened on her lips, he’d told her, had drawn him in.

This time they weren’t alone, but as Dean’s mouth rubbed against hers, she lost all sense of time and place. His lips tasted sweeter than sugar. His touch awakened an eagerness she never wanted to give up.

She opened her eyes to take a peek at him and found his electric baby blues on hers. She blinked, hoping to communicate how much she was enjoying this, and felt the corners of his mouth lift.

The hand Dean had around her waist smoothed its way up her back, stroking her spine. It came to a rest at her neck, his fingers playing with her hair before they inched up to cup the back of her head. She closed her eyes as Dean brought her face tighter to his and parted her lips.

The thrust of his tongue in her mouth made her breasts tingle and a feel-good vibration settle in the pit of her stomach. He stroked the inside of her mouth, the combination of his taste and the hot sauce setting off pulses of pleasure from her head to her feet.

Dean continued to dictate the tempo of the kiss, pulling his tongue back so their lips could close for a quick breath before opening wide again and kissing her like he couldn’t get enough.

Music Sam hadn’t noticed before touched her ears. The soulful sound with a steady bass line influenced their rhythm. The swirl of their tongues, the tilt of their heads, the lean of her body into his, followed the soothing hum of the music and washed over her. Everything else around her faded—the voices, the bodies, the clinking of glasses, the smell of fried food—the only thing in the room was the two of them. So much for thinking Dean meant nothing.

Never letting up on the sweet pressure of the kiss, Samantha steadied her hands on Dean’s shoulders while she lifted her body from his lap. His eyes flew open, but she could see the confident, trusting stare he imparted.

That, and a good dose of lust.

His hands skimmed down her sides to her waist as she turned her body to face him. A moment later his hands were splayed around her bottom as she widened her stance and sat back down on his lap, now in a straddle position.

She relaxed her hands, let her arms fall around his neck. She shimmied in close, eliminating any space between their hips and torsos. The bar music that created a synchronized trance wafted back to her ears, and now with their bodies tight against each other she could feel their heartbeats in harmonious union.

As if he could feel it, too, Dean sucked harder. The gentle roll of his tongue disappeared. A whimper escaped her lips, a groan his. Her heart rate sped faster as their mouths entertained each other’s with a deeper connection.

His body felt so good that she didn’t care if she ever came up for air. She wanted this kiss to last forever. She knew after this weekend she’d never see him again and wanted to linger on his mouth for as long as possible, hoping he’d remember her taste as much as she’d remember his.

Oh God, how she wanted more, though. She wanted to nibble and feast on much more than his mouth. And she wanted him to devour her. A craving to have his naked body atop her, under her, moving inside her, intensified, and it sent potent heat waves down her spine. If she could lock them in a time warp right now, she would, forever losing herself to his hold.

Because this wasn’t a kiss between strangers.

This was a kiss between long-lost lovers becoming intimately familiar with each other again, desiring not only the physical contact but also something
real
. Samantha’s mind became a blur of happiness. Her brain registered a surge of rapture. She couldn’t have moved her body away from his if her life depended on it.

Forget being turned on. This man, this kiss, encompassed everything she ever wanted. The exquisite touch sent her mental faculties colliding with her sexual desires. She thrust her tongue deeper, pressed her mouth firmer, tried to extinguish any space between them. She kissed him with her entire heart and soul.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard, “Four minutes, fifteen seconds.”

They both shifted, as if they’d held their breath underwater and needed to finally come up for air. Knowing they’d significantly beaten the last couple’s time, they broke the intense suction and the buzz holding her body hostage faded. Then with eyes heavy on each other, they parted lips.

She heard the hoots and hollers around them, but she paid no attention. Dean’s glazed eyes never left hers. Somehow, he mustered the strength to say, “Spend the weekend with me.”

And she whispered back, “Okay.”

Because he couldn’t
not
be with her one more time.

After their mind-blowing kiss last night, she’d tried to practically bolt from the bar. But after he’d insisted on seeing her to her hotel, she’d relaxed and again agreed to spend the weekend with him. Her well-kissed lips had pressed gently to his cheek in good night, and he’d known he wasn’t the only one affected.

Still, he was an idiot. Or, more accurately, a selfish bastard idiot. He’d left her once and he knew he’d have to leave her again. But he didn’t want to regret not spending every possible moment with her that he could. Maybe after this time around, he’d get her out of his system.

Today he’d lined up just the thing to spark another memorable adventure.

Trying to calm his overeager nerves, he pulled his arms behind his back for a stretch. Every muscle in his body was tense, on alert, ready to sweep Samantha off her feet for a day she’d never forget.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he prayed it wasn’t her canceling. He tugged it out and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey yourself. Guess where I am?” Her youthful voice always made him forget that she was twenty-five years older than he was.

“Mountain biking?” His mom rode every weekend.

“No. I’m sitting in Elmer’s trying to decide between the French toast and Belgian waffle and wondering where the hell my son is.”

Shit
. “Damn. I forgot.”

“So I guess that means you’re not on your way?”

“You guess right. Sorry, Mom. I’ll make it up to you at dinner tomorrow night.” He rubbed two fingers across his forehead.

“Really?” she said, a mixture of surprise and shock in her voice. “You must be up to something pretty important this morning to surrender to playing a game of Scrabble with
me
. That is what you’re implying, is it not?”

Dean chuckled. “It’s not
that
bad.”

“Says the boy who told me he’d never play with me again.”

“Consider it part of your birthday present.” Dean glanced at the time on his phone. His mother might not be the only one stood up this morning.

“Deal. Have time to tell me what you’re doing today?”

Dean’s vision tracked a young couple with a toddler in a stroller, the young boy giggling at something his mother had said. After they turned a corner Dean swept back across the lobby to find Samantha, eyes focused on him, making her way over.

“I don’t. I’ll see you tomorrow. ’Bye.” He might’ve pressed end before getting the ’bye out.

“Good morning,” she said cheerily.

Good
didn’t begin to describe it. She wore a pair of knee-length beige pants and a red tank top over a white one, brand-spanking-new Nike tennis shoes, and a loose ponytail that carried her blond waves away from her face. Damn, she did more than send good vibrations through him.

“Morning,” he managed to get out.

They gazed at each other like they couldn’t believe they were together again.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long. I had a hard time waking up this morning. Lots of tossing and turning last night.”

Dean wondered if her lack of sleep had anything to do with him. He reached out and put his arm around her waist, bringing her in close. Her feminine frame fell into his body and their mouths connected for a proper greeting. Temporarily satisfied, Dean let go long enough to grab her hand and pull her toward the exit.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve got something special planned for you.”

“You do? What is it?”

“You’ll see. We’ve got about an hour’s drive. I’ll fill you in along the way. But trust me, it’s beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Why, Dean Malloy, are you whisking me away on another adventure?” Her voice chimed with an excitement Dean recognized from their summer together, and his own anticipation shot up a notch.

As they reached his car, parked outside the lobby doors, he tossed a sideways glance at her, not worrying about the look of adoration he knew showed on his face. “You’ll be over the moon about this one.”

He’d wanted to do this for a while. Lucky for him, after a call last night to his pilot buddy, all systems were a go for today. Looking over at Samantha, sitting so picture perfect in his passenger seat, his stomach flip-flopped.