This was because, except for a couple of guys in high school and some other guys who didn’t count during spin the bottle at parties in junior high, I had kissed no one but Cooter. I grew not to like the way he kissed then I grew not to want him to kiss me and I learned quickly that if I didn’t kiss him back in a way he’d like, he’d give up trying.
So I didn’t know if I even knew how to kiss. I’d forgotten or never really learned.
And I needed at that moment in my life not only to be able to do it but to be able to do it really, really well.
And needing it and freaking out about it, my head filled with garbage and I blew it.
I knew it by feeling it and I knew it when Sam’s mouth broke from mine, his head came up, I opened my eyes and saw his, for the first time since I met him, were guarded.
Oh God.
Oh God!
Sam had just kissed me, it was awful and it was also all my fault.
God!
I was mortified. Total humiliation. So bad, I couldn’t bear it.
So I didn’t.
I had to escape.
So I did.
I ducked my head, jerked sideways out of his arms and skirted him, heading toward the bedroom, all the while mumbling, “I need to find Luci and ask if I can use –”
I didn’t get to the bedroom and I didn’t finish mumbling.
I found my hand caught in Sam’s firm grip and my arm tugged, hard enough to change the direction I was going, not hard enough to hurt. I flew backward and as my body moved, Sam twisted my arm so my body twisted with it and my arm was held behind me, my front slammed into his, his other hand came up, his fingers sifting into my hair, then fisting gently to tilt it to the side at the same time he pulled it back.
This shocked me, not in bad way. Oh no, not bad at all.
It was hot.
Then his mouth slammed down on mine.
Oh man.
That was hot too.
Then his tongue thrust into my mouth.
Oh man.
That wasn’t hot.
That was scorching.
And it burned through me from mouth to toes and even up into my hair, blistering. My belly plummeted, my br**sts swelled, my body melted into his, my arm wrapped around his shoulders to hold on and my tongue tangled with his because I liked what he was giving me but I wanted more.
When I did this, he growled into my mouth, his fist in my hair twisted, his fingers laced in mine doing the same, both I felt, not with pain, but with a fierce kind of possession I liked, oh God, yes, I liked it a lot. So much, I felt wet and heat flood between my legs, my hand glided up his neck to cup the back of his head and hold him to me and I pressed deep, returning the gift by moaning into his mouth.
When I did, he pressed forward, arching me backward over our arms, deepening an already deep kiss, demanding more and my moan turned to a whimper, not of fear, pain or weakness, but open, unadulterated need.
Sam tore his mouth from mine, my eyes flew open and my lips immediately protested on a breathy plea of, “Sam.”
But not a second later, his fist in my hair was an arm behind my knees, his other hand released mine but held on tight at my back, I was swept up in his arms and he made it to the bed in two strides of his long legs. Then I was down on the bed, the warmth and weight of Sam’s body was on mine, his mouth was back to mine and this was better, way, way better because it came with his hands on me, all over me, and it came with the opportunity of my hands being all over him.
He felt good, God, so good. I was right. He was hard everywhere. And I liked it.
He pressed his h*ps into mine, tight, deep, I felt them, I liked what I felt and more heat rushed through me.
God, yes, yes. I was right, he was hard everywhere.
I forced a leg out from under him and wrapped it around the back of his thigh, reciprocating the gesture, lifting my h*ps to fit them to his, his lips left mine to trail down my cheek to my ear where he whispered, “Fuck, baby.”
I liked that too.
A lot.
So much I arched my back, turned my head and ran my tongue up his neck to his ear.
God, he tasted as beautiful as he just was.
“Fuck,” he whispered then his teeth nipped my ear and I trembled instantly, top-to-toe.
Then, no joke, no freaking joke, I heard the creak of a door swinging open and a sultry voice crying, “Buongiorno!”
Sam’s head shot up and his neck twisted.
Seeing as my head was to the bed, just my neck twisted.
And there was Luci, wearing a fabulous outfit, looking stunning, holding a stack of fluffy folded towels and grinning at us unrepentantly.
This went on awhile, Sam and I tangled in a carnal clench on the bed staring at Luci, Luci standing a step inside the doorway gazing at us with a huge grin and not moving.
Finally, Sam asked on a growl that was clearly frustrated, clearly impatient and clearly angry so it was also clearly very scary, “Are you serious?”
“You’re in luck,” she announced. “I have exactly two unused toothbrushes.”
I blinked.
Sam growled again but this one was unintelligibly.
“Sam, caro,” Luci said, striding in (yes, striding in!), “Kia can see the lake from that bed but she’ll see more of it from the boat.”
Was she serious?
And, was this happening?
And, if it was, why?
I didn’t ask these questions. Instead I stayed silent as Sam rolled off and sat up, pulling me with him so I was sitting up too, but close and he settled us with my back to his chest and one of his arms wrapped around my belly.
He did this saying, “Woman, you know I’m trained to kill.”
She smiled at him then ignored him and looked to me.
“And Kia, cara,” she dropped the towels on the foot of the bed and two toothbrushes in their plastic wrappers and a tube of toothpaste bounced off the top of the pile and onto the bed, “it’s morning and you have something to look up on my computer.”
I stared up at her having experienced all of this still snug in the warmth of heated, brilliant foreplay the like I’d not only never experienced at the hands of a (now I knew) seriously not very talented Cooter but also the like I didn’t even know existed and the mistaken belief that, in short order, I would return to that.
Suddenly that disbursed, what was happening intruded and, what could I say?
It was admittedly a little weird and it was definitely crazy.
But it was also hilarious.
So I burst out laughing.
Luci’s sexy chuckle joined my laughter and, honest to God, it actually sounded like it was accented with Italian which was way cool.
Sam dragged my laughing body across his lap and both his arms clamped around me as he declared, “Just to be clear, I’m not finding anything funny right now.”