Something Reckless
Page 15

“I fucking bet he did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I know he’s wanted you since he met you at that party that night, and he was supposed to stay away from you.”
“Wait. What? You were telling your friends to stay away from me?”
“Just Connor. I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”
“You mean you didn’t like that he looked at me like I was a woman when you still wanted to see me as a child.”
“Sue me for being a decent guy.”
“You rejected me, and Connor was the one who talked me through it. Who’s the decent guy?”
“Did you sleep with him? Did you let him take care of your little virginity problem?”
“I—” I lift my palms. “Why are we talking about this? It was over four years ago.”
Some emotion I don’t recognize flashes in his eyes.
“I wanted you, Sam. Not some stand-in. You. And you broke my heart.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. I’ve just made myself too vulnerable to him. More vulnerable than I was when my hands were bound and I was at his mercy.
“I broke your heart?”
“Don’t worry about Della. Connor will take care of her.”
“You didn’t answer my question. You said I broke your heart.”
You don’t want me to answer your question. I stand and stare at my light pink wall. I should have kept my mouth shut. “I was young. Foolish. It’s not like I’ve been hung up on you all this time or something.” Much. Hell, who am I kidding? It’s very much like that.
“Rowdy.” The mattress shifts as he moves to sit next to me. “I told you I don’t do emotional strings.”
“And I told you that’s not what I’m looking for.”
He shakes his head. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He stalks toward me, and I stand frozen, waiting for him to decide what happens next.
The frustration in his eyes turns to heat then lust, and then something more dangerous. I stand still until he cups my face in his hands and lowers his mouth to mine.
Everything after that happens in a desperate rush. We shed our clothes, throwing them to the floor until we’re skin to skin. Sam presses me against the wall and hitches one of my legs around his hip.
“Condom,” I whisper.
“Done.”
I have no idea when during the frenzy of kissing and undressing he pulled on a condom, but I don’t care. His cock is between my legs, poised at my entrance, and I want him. Need him.
Almost in one fluid motion, he pulls up my other leg and drives into me. He’s big—almost too big—and my body tightens in protest, but when he tries to withdraw, tries to give me a moment to adjust, I claw at his back to hold him close. And then he thrusts, in and out, and I have to bite back a cry every time he sinks deep.
“Don’t do that,” he says in my ear. “Don’t hold back.”
“But Connor—”
“Let him hear. I want him to know that you’re mine.”
I love that. You’re mine.
“For tonight,” he says. “Just for tonight.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, denying the hurt that wants to flood me at those words. And before I can think about it too much, before I can dwell on any disappointment or hurt I feel, he’s sliding a hand between our bodies and finding my clit, stroking as he pounds into me.
Behind his back, I lock my feet at the ankles and loop my arms around his neck, holding on tight as he leads me up to more and more pleasure.
Suddenly, he spins me around and settles my ass on the bed. In a smooth motion, he’s changed our positions, moving my legs so my ankles are resting on his shoulders and his cock slides even deeper.
When he drives into me from this new position, his eyes locked on where our bodies are joined, I do cry out, and he groans his approval and pumps harder.
“I needed my hands free,” he murmurs. His fingertips graze my breasts and he pinches my nipple. “I needed to touch you.”
I watch him, trying to memorize how dark his eyes are as he fucks me, the way they roam over me again and again, as if every part of me is fighting for his attention and he can’t decide where to give it.
But then his eyes drop between my legs and stop roaming altogether. He focuses on watching our bodies come together through thrust after thrust.
His thumb strokes my clit, and my back arches off the bed. He pumps into me again. Again. All the while, stroking that sensitive piece of me until it’s almost too much.
“Tonight, you’re mine,” he whispers again.
And it’s those words and the intensity in his eyes that pushes me over the edge and has my body contracting in orgasm.
He turns his head and places a tender kiss on the arch of my foot. Then he thrusts again, the head of his cock swelling inside me. His jaw tightens and he comes too, hand wrapped around my ankle.
After he goes to the bathroom to clean up, I curl into my bed and remind my heart that it wasn’t invited to this party.
I don’t normally do this. I’m not the kind of girl who tries to mentally rewrite every hookup into a happily-ever-after. My mind understands that sometimes I just need sex for the sake of sex. But this is Sam, and my brain has never been very good at showing up where he’s involved.
He’ll want to leave. Maybe he’ll take Connor with him out of some misguided protective instinct, but I don’t expect him to sleep over. So when he comes back into the room and slides into bed with me, when he pulls me into his arms so my back is against his chest and his arms are wrapped around me, I’m waiting for the goodbye. The thanks for the good time, see ya around.