“If you don't kiss me soon,” she whispered against his neck. “I'm going to be forced to do something drastic.”
“I can't even imagine what fits into your definition of drastic.”
“It might involve stripping you down to your tighty-whiteys and having my wicked way with you while the band plays “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”.
He let go with a rusty laugh. God, it felt good just to…relax.
“That's the Sam I know.” She raised her head and brushed her lips against his. “I don't know why you pretend to be so stiff, but the only thing rigid about you right now is this.”
Her fingers grazed his hard-on. The denim of his jeans blocked skin-to-skin contact but the barrier only enhanced the hot factor. “That seems to be the case whenever I'm around you. Opposites attract, I guess.”
“Bullshit.” She nibbled her way up his neck. “We're so much alike on the inside that it scares the shit out of you.”
He stumbled for a moment and nearly ran over another couple. Smiling his apologies, he spun Josie over to the wall. “We need to get out of here.”
“Let's go, cowboy.”
Chapter Nine
Josie swept her palm along the wall, searching for the light switch inside Sam's front door. The simple act proved difficult because of the lightning bolts sizzling through her body as Sam's lips ravaged hers. His body pressed her against the open doorframe, his cock nestled against the zipper of her jeans. Buzzing from flash after flash of pleasurable sensation, she circled her hips against his hardness, searching for release.
Seeking to anchor herself to him, Josie threaded her fingers into his light-brown hair, which was as soft and yielding as the rest of him was rock hard and demanding.
“Fuck, Josie, you make me forget who I am,” he panted against her neck before kissing his way up, stopping at the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear. He sucked her earlobe between his hungry lips, nipping it lightly.
She stopped breathing. Heat and damp flooded her pussy; an itch building that grinding against Sam couldn't cure. Her need to feel him sliding between her slick folds hit her even harder than it had in Vegas.
Drawing on powers of self-denial she didn't even realize she had, Josie untangled her fingers from Sam's hair and slid one hand up the wall until she encountered the cool plastic light switch. By the time she flipped it on, he was licking the top of her collarbone and sending all kinds of tingling sensations across her skin. Her control flickered like a flame in the breeze. Usually a quick, hard fuck would be enough. Wham. Bam. Thank you man. But not tonight. Not with Sam.
Determined to draw out the anticipation, she pulled out of his embrace and took a few steps backwards. Taking in his living room and its matching beige couch and the identical silver lamps on the innocuous birch side tables, she flicked off her electric-blue heels—so out of place in this den of neutrals. Everywhere she turned were eggshell-colored walls. The only thing interrupting their perfect blandness was a large painting of McPherson's Bluff. Guilt rose as she stared at the reminder of her mission from Snips.
Her conscience struggled to be heard above the roar of lust, warning her to tell Sam the truth. All of it. Damn, she wanted to, but she had no doubt Snips would deliver on his promise to hurt her parents. She and Sam had declared a truce. This was just sex with a hot and willing partner. Nothing more.
“So are you going to offer me something to drink? Show me your etchings?”
“I have plenty to show you but it's not on paper.” He moved forward.
She stepped back.
Curious about how far she could push him, she popped open two buttons on her shirt, giving her boobs the breathing room they'd been dying for all night. “But I have an ongoing fantasy of putting you on canvas. Will you pose for me?”
“You know there's little I wouldn't agree to right now.” The hunger in his tawny eyes blazed as he stared at her tits.
Men staring at her chest had been a daily fact of life since she'd turned sixteen. Usually she didn’t have any response but annoyance. But not with Sam. Having his gaze glued to her boobs sent wave after wave of wanting through her. Pressing her arms together a bit, she pushed her flesh forward so her hard nipples barely stayed contained within her bra's leopard-print silk. Enjoying the mesmerized look on his face, she slipped a finger beneath the smooth material, warm from her overheated skin.
“So adventurous. Just how I like you.” Josie traced her finger across the tops of the curves capturing his attention.
“And what can I do for you right now?” He quirked an eyebrow.
Josie crossed the room and sat down on the plain couch, trying to ignore the wetness between her legs in favor of teasing him a bit longer. “Come over here and strip for me. Slow. I have to memorize each line and shadow. It's research, you know.”
He didn't move but his gaze flew to her face. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”
“Come on, Sam, stop hiding behind that stuffy professor image you've locked yourself into. We both know it's a load of shit. You can be yourself with me.”
He hesitated a moment longer, then pushed off the door and strode over to the couch, an intensity in his eyes that had Josie wondering what she'd just gotten herself into. Without saying anything, he slipped a button on his shirt through the buttonhole.
“Is this what you want?” He made quick work of his shirt, spreading it wide and showing off the kind of hard abs no history professor should have. “Should I stop here or go on?”