I jerked back, not at the vehemence of his words but in his saying that he loved me now. How was that possible? And why did my heart do a loop in my chest at the idea?
He looked away for a moment, his jaw tightening. He took in a breath before looking back at me. "I called them this morning about demolishing the place. But you don't just go in and knock a building down. They have to figure out what could be in there that's dangerous. What needs to be removed first. They need to study the structure to figure out the best way to bring it down safely. And before you accuse me of planning to build something in its place, you're damn right something is going to go in there, but it's not going to be a club. Next question."
Crap. I hated that Harper was right. I hated that I looked like such a bitch. I scraped my hands over my face and leaned back against my desk.
A long moment later, he stepped closer to me, and I could feel that the tension in him had dissipated. "I wish there were a way that you didn't have to always think the worst of me." His tone was soft and sincere.
"I can't help it," I admitted.
He filled the gap between us, his hands going to my arms and rubbing gently. "I know." His hands slid up to my shoulders and gently rubbed. "You're tense."
"Yeah, well." It felt like the story of my life. I suppose I'd always been an intense person, even as a kid. But I became more so over the last five years.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing along my ear. "You know, I could help with that."
I closed my eyes as a rush of erotic sensation sped straight to the area between my thighs. I should push him away, but I didn't have the strength. I'd gone from a thousand on the pissed off scale to below zero.
"You think an orgasm is going to cure what ails me?" I asked.
He moved his head, bringing his face right in front of mine. "I hear it's really helpful in easing tension. Couldn't hurt."
I arched a brow at him. “Here? Now?"
He gave me a sexy smile. "Why not? You're tense here and now." His hands slid up my sides, stopping just outside my breasts. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, which were already hard and aching.
"I haven't decided whether I want to do this."
Immediately, his hands stopped. He pulled them away and took a small step back. "Sorry."
I looked at him, and for the first time since he'd come back into my life, I saw the man I knew five years ago. I don't know why that at that moment that I could look at him that way. Was it the immediate respect he showed me by stopping touching me the minute I said I wasn't sure I wanted it? Was it the way he kept coming around even though I kept pushing him away?
No. It was his eyes. His sage green eyes watched me intently. When I looked into them, really looked deep into them without my immediate bias against him, I could see the truth of everything he'd been telling me.
You saw this five years ago, and he still walked away.
It was true. It was the reason I couldn't fully forgive him. But at this moment, I wanted to feel the way I had felt with him five years ago. I wanted to feel his love, his touch.
It wouldn't change anything, I promised myself as I reached forward, gripping his shirt and tugging him to me.
"Does this mean you've decided?" he asked as his lips hovered a whisper away from mine.
"Kiss me before I change my mind."
His lips fused against mine, sending me spiraling. I gave myself completely over to him. I’d regret it later, but right now, I wanted this. Him.
His mouth devoured mine as his hands went to my shorts, unbuttoning them. In seconds, my shorts and panties were on the floor, and so was Sam, with his lips now doing the most marvelous things to my pussy.
“Oh, God, Sam.” I gripped his head, holding him to me. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” I tried to tell myself that the hold Sam had on me was physical. That it was his expertise with his mouth and tongue, the size of his dick and how well he used it. Deep in the recesses of my mind, though, I knew I was losing the battle at keeping him out of my heart.
“Yes, oh, God... right there.” I could barely breathe as I hovered on the edge of orgasm. My hips rocked against his mouth. He flicked his tongue through my pussy as his thumb pressed on my clit, shooting me to the stratosphere. I cried out. Later, I’d have to figure out whether the entire place had heard me.
He lapped at my pussy a few more times as I came down. Then he rose, and I had to grip his forearms as I worked to catch my breath.
"All better?" he asked.
My hands went to his belt, tugging to undo it. He gripped my wrists and pulled them up to his chest. "How are you feeling now?"
I gazed up at him, not understanding why he wasn't shoving his pants down and taking care of the erection tenting his slacks.