“Is she coming to any conclusions?” I asked.
“Sellin’ her house, movin’ back to Italy. It’s all about Gordo here. She’s got friends but her life here is her life with him and that’s gone. She’ll come back and visit but family and home is not here. Family and home is Italy. She’s puttin’ the house on the market tomorrow.”
Whoa.
“Shouldn’t she wait? Think about it awhile? This is a fragile juncture and moving on sudden decisions might not be good,” I suggested and at that, Sam’s head turned to me.
“Sudden?”
“Well, yes. Sudden as in, coming to terms with Gordo dying one day and putting their house on the market the next.”
“Nothing sudden about this shit, Kia. He’s been dead awhile. It’s about f**kin’ time she moved on. She’s movin’ on.”
I stared at him and said nothing. This was because I didn’t have to try to read his mood and tone. He was frustrated, tired, impatient and over it.
I was shocked.
That was not Sam.
“Wiped,” he muttered, got up and moved Memphis to my lap. Then, without touching me, no kiss, not even meeting my eyes, he went on, “Hittin’ it. Got shit to do early so may be gone when you get up. Be back late afternoon, early evening. You don’t feel like cookin’, text me and on my way home, I’ll pick up fried clam platters from Skippy’s. Not as good as crab sandwiches, still can’t be beat.”
Then, without another word, a goodnight kiss or even a gesture, he walked into the house as I watched in stunned silence.
Once he disappeared up the stairs, I twisted back to forward in my seat and looked down at Memphis who was still looking beyond me to the door. She felt my eyes, her eyes came to me and she yapped.
“Yes, baby, that was weird.”
She yapped again and I nodded.
“I didn’t like it either.”
She whined a little then settled in my lap.
I pressed my lips together, my mind harking back from now to the first night Sam and I slept together.
He’d never gone to bed without me.
And I’d never gone to bed without him closely following me.
Then I unpressed my lips when I lifted my Amaretto to take a drink.
I swallowed and whispered, “Shit,” to the sea.
Memphis concurred with a quiet, mini-yap.
Yep. Shit.
* * * * *
I woke up with Sam’s mouth at my neck and his hand sliding into my panties.
“Sam,” I whispered and his mouth came to mine.
“No talking,” he rumbled then he made this so by kissing me, his tongue driving into my mouth hard at the same time his finger slid inside me.
I wasn’t awake, I wasn’t ready and I whimpered with surprise mixed with the usual pleasure.
Sam read it, his finger slid out and hit my clit, pressing, rolling, my whimper this time was again surprised but now there was far more pleasure. My h*ps rose up into his hand as his tongue kept driving into my mouth.
Then his lips released mine and his torso twisted. My panties were torn down my legs and Sam rolled, his arm hooking me, taking me with him.
I didn’t know what was happening, I still wasn’t awake but I was turned on.
Then I was turned on more when Sam laid back, pulling me up, yanking me over him and maneuvering me to straddling his head.
Then his hands at my h*ps tugged me down and he was eating me.
My head fell back and my fingers searched for the headboard to hold on.
He was hungry, ravenous. God, he’d never done it like that before, not only in this position but also him being so damn hungry. His hands clenched at my hips, wrenching me down, grinding me into his mouth and tongue.
Oh God. God!
Before I knew it was coming, it came. My head jerking back again, I cried out as it seared through me.
But Sam kept pulling me down, crushing me to his mouth, taking.
Beautiful.
Sublime.
I moaned, whimpered, panted, held the headboard in a death grip feeling it, all of it, loving it and then orgasm number two soared through me.
Sam pushed me off before I was done and I tried to catch my breath, catch a thought but found myself on my knees with Sam on his knees behind me, his arms around me. His hand went back between my legs, torture, God, such beautiful torture. I was so sensitive my h*ps jerked and his other hand plunged up my nightie, his fingers curling around my breast, his thumb rolling my nipple.
“Sam, honey, too much,” I protested but my h*ps made my words a lie, rolling, pressing, seeking. I wanted it, wanted him, wanted more.
Sam’s teeth nipped the skin behind my ear and he growled, “No talking.”
“Sam –”
His hand between my legs slid away, his arm clamped around my waist, his other hand curled tight at my breast, I felt him move, adjust then drive up inside me, straight to the root, filling me.
My head again flew back, colliding with his shoulder.
“No… fucking… talking,” he commanded, deep and low in my ear.
Then his arms left me, one hand went to the middle of my back, pushing me down so I was chest to mattress. Both his hands went to my hips, fingers digging deep, he pulled me sharply back to meet his thrusts, pushing me forward, pulling back, slamming into me, slamming me into him.
Oh God. It was awesome. It was hot. And it was going to happen again.
Before it could, he pulled out. I moaned my discontent but he didn’t make me wait. He jerked me up, shifted me to facing him and turned us, moving up the bed. My back hit headboard, his hands wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms slid around his shoulders and his mouth slammed down on mine as his c**k plunged into me.
Again and again and then he drove deep, grinding hard and groaned in my mouth as my limbs got tight, my third orgasm swept through me and I moaned into his.
I recovered slowly listening to Sam doing the same, feeling his breaths steadying against my lips, keeping him held close to me, held tight.
Then, even though I didn’t say a word, he ordered, “Do not speak.”
My heart started beating faster again.
He didn’t glide; he didn’t take me gently after he took me hard. He stayed buried and his lips didn’t leave mine as I stared into his shadowy eyes which were staring back at me.
“Burned in my brain,” he growled and I swallowed, keeping him held tight to me. “You in those sandals, that dress, sittin’ across from me, tryin’ to pretend I wasn’t there.”
At his words, emotion soared through me, a lot, too much. It felt my skin couldn’t contain it and my limbs spasmed around him.