Chapter Twelve

Well, it was done. She’d finally gotten what she’d wanted seven years ago. And all she could think was...wow. She hid her face against him, hoping he wasn’t going to be all moral and apologetic.

The last time he’d rejected her, he’d broken her teenage heart. Now, seven years later, it was clear to Samara that the feelings she’d had for him had not just been a girlish crush. Seven years later, those feelings were stronger and more intense than ever. She’d thought she’d gotten over him, but now she knew—she really hadn’t.

She’d gotten what she wanted. But maybe she wasn’t quite prepared for that. What happened next?

Although she’d mostly been reacting and hadn’t really thought about what they were doing, she had thought she could do it—have this one time with the man she’d always wanted, one night of no-strings-attached, scratch-an-itch sex. But she may have misjudged her own ability to do that without involving her emotions.

Her heart sank, heavy and full. Because if she hadn’t gotten over Travis in the last seven years, how on earth did she think she was going to get over him now? Now they’d actually had sex…

“Samara.” He lifted her chin to look at her, concern in his blue eyes. Then she shoved at his chest and pushed herself away from him. She scrambled to sit, glaring at him.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” she demanded.

His eyes widened, and his head lifted off the pillow. “What!” He gave his head a shake. “Jesus. Here I was worried that you’d think you seduced me against my will. And you ask why I didn’t stop you?” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back down.

Something inside her quivered, and she felt her heart tumble lower. She was taking out her worries and fears on him, and he didn’t deserve it. He’d been worried about her. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her again. But...had she seduced him against his will? Oh dear lord...“Did you really want me?”

He opened his eyes. They blazed with a blue flame. “You are the most irritating, frustrating female I have ever encountered!” He shoved himself up to sitting and they faced each other. “I can’t do anything right! When I try to do the right thing and resist you, I hurt your feelings. When I give into temptation, I piss you off. Then you ask that! How can you even ask? Did you not feel me inside you?”

Uh, right. Okay, that had been a stupid question. There was no doubt in her mind that Travis had wanted her with the same desperate hunger she’d wanted him. An aching joy, a wistful satisfaction filled her, along with budding hope. “I just wanted to make sure,” she whispered. And then she crumpled, remembering...remembering why she’d been so hurt, why they couldn’t ever be together. Why she should be hating him. She covered her face with her hands and bent her head, her hair falling around her.

“What? What’s wrong, Samara?” He reached over to try to push her hair back.

“I can’t get past it,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“Get past what?”

She drew a long shaky breath into her lungs. “You and my mother.”

She felt him go utterly still. After a tight pause, he said, “What about me and your mother?”

“The affair you had with her.”

He made a choking noise. “What!”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I know about your affair.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Seven years ago. I heard you and my mom talking. It was just after...after that night when I kissed you. I heard you two talking about Dad.”

His eyes narrowed, Travis shook his head. “Yeah. So? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Samara.”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t remember every word, but she said dad knew, and you said you were sorry, that you never meant to jeopardize their marriage, and she said it wasn’t all your fault and that she hadn’t handled things very well either, and then she said maybe it was best for all of you if you moved to L.A. even though she didn’t want you to go. And you sounded very...close.”

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” Travis closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “And you thought we were having an affair? Me and your mother? Oh Jesus. Jesus Christ.”

“Was...were you...Travis...?” He looked like he was in pain but wanted to laugh. Doubts swirled inside her as she stared at his expression.

“It’s almost funny, except it’s so goddamn stupid and tragic,” he said roughly. “Please, Samara, please tell me that’s not why you ran away and barely spoke to your mother for seven fucking years.”

Her heart picked up a heavy sluggish beat, her body pulsing in time to it. She swallowed tightly. “Yes. That’s why. I was so...hurt. By both of you. You’d rejected me, and then I found out that was why, and I was furious with my mother. I felt like she’d...stolen you away from me.”

He made another sound like a low growl.

“And I was angry at her for cheating on my dad like that. Angry at both of you, for betraying him like that. He was your partner. I didn’t understand how you could do that to him.”

“I didn’t do that to him.” He grabbed hold of her upper arms and gave her a little shake. “Are you insane? I never had an affair with your mother!”

“Shh. She’s just down the hall.”

“I don’t give a shit!” But he lowered his voice. “Samara, I swear to you, there has never been anything between me and your mother.” He gave her a hard stare. “Jesus, Samara. That is so fucked up.”

“Then...what...” She couldn’t even ask the questions because his words took her world and shook it up like she’d been pulled into a rip tide. Everything she’d known and believed for the last seven years shattered and rained down around her in tiny pieces.z

“Oh god.” She thought for a moment, remembering the tension between her parents, and how she’d attributed that to the affair. Her mind raced from one thought fragment to another. There’d been no affair. There’d been no affair. All those years when she’d been hurt and pissed off at her mother had been for nothing. A wrenching agony ripped through her at how stupid she’d been. Heavy regret washed over her, and her eyes stung. She lowered her head and stared at the pink, chocolate and taupe duvet, forcing back the tears.

She was an idiot. The biggest, stupidest idiot in the world. She’d not only trashed her own life, but her mother’s, and she knew her father’d been deeply hurt by the rift between them too. She wanted to die. She wanted to just curl up and hide her face in shame and never emerge.

“I should be so pissed off at you,” he murmured. “That you’d think I would do something like that.”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “You should. You should hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Samara,” he said wearily. “I know how pissed off at yourself you must be right now.”

She made a little noise of pain. “My mother...oh, god.”

“I know. I know. But you’ll talk. She’ll forgive you, Samara. She loves you.” He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve Travis’s comfort either. But he was giving it to her, and she wanted it, and she wanted him. So much. Gratitude for his forgiveness and understanding swelled inside her, hot and soft in her chest, feeling a lot like...love.

She couldn’t be in love with him. Not after all these years. After only her own stupidity and stubbornness had kept them from being together.

Well. That wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t run away all those years ago. She’d have gone away to college anyway, and even if she hadn’t believed Travis had betrayed her father and rejected her for her mother, they probably never would have ended up together anyway. Because―he’d rejected her. That still stung, but now, with the distance of time, she could finally admit Travis had been right. There was no way a twenty-five-year-old man would have had anything to do with a seventeen-year-old girl.

She’d been so young and stupid and blind.

She lifted her head from his now-wet chest and gazed up at him. “I’m sorry, Travis. I am so, so sorry. I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

The corners of his mouth tipped up, and he smoothed his fingertips across her wet cheek. “Yes, you have.”

“I’ve been trying so hard to show you I’m mature and responsible and capable, and the truth is I’m just an idiot who has no idea what she’s doing.”

“You’re not an idiot, Sam.”

“Thank you. For being so nice about this.”

“Yeah. Well. I might’ve jumped to a wrong conclusion once or twice in my life.”

“Really?” She stared at him. He swallowed tightly, watching her. She tipped her head to one side and watched the expressions move across his face as he looked back at her. Watched his pupils dilate and his mouth soften. There was no denying the chemistry between them, the heat, the sparkle, the zing of challenge and the fun of sparring. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for them. Maybe they could be together.

* * *

Travis could have drowned in those amazing eyes, the green, gold and brown a sparkly kaleidoscope in her irises. Long lashes, wet and spiky, framed them, and her pretty mouth, swollen from his fierce kisses, parted softly. He rolled her onto her back and rose up on one elbow. He looked down at her, holding her gaze steadily.

“Samara, we still shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” She blinked.

Only a million fucking reasons. His heart thudded. Telling her she was too young for him seemed inane now. Telling her that her father would freak out was probably not a good idea at this moment, seeing as he’d just died. Reminding her that her mother was just down the hall? Jesus. “We have to work together,” he managed to choke out.

She blinked again but said nothing. So unlike her.

“Aw, fuck it.” He kissed her hard. Her small hands reached for him, digging into his shoulders as she pulled him closer, a little frantically. “No.” He muttered the words against her lips. “Not this time, baby. This time we go slow. This time we enjoy.”

“I enjoyed it.” Her breathless words made him laugh.

“Yeah.” He brushed her mouth with his. “Me too. But this time...I want to actually know I’m enjoying it. You get me so hot I don’t know what I’m even doing.” The fucking weirdest thing was, when they’d been talking about coffee and coffee growers and co-ops and pricing structures, he’d been so hot for her he could have picked her up and done her right there on the restaurant table.

“Oh, god, me too.” Her tongue licked across his bottom lip as he kissed her again, and his blood surged. He slid a hand into her hair, cool and silky, and held her head against the pillow.

“Did I hurt you?” He nuzzled the side of her neck, tasting the tender flesh there with the tip of his tongue.

“Yes.”

He lifted his head and saw the smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “But I liked it. Oh Jesus.” Her eyes closed then opened. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Mmm. I can’t believe it either.” Maybe he’d just found the secret to controlling her. A little sexual domination apparently worked wonders. He’d have to keep that in mind.

More images of him taking her on the boardroom table at the office sizzled through his brain. Unusual working relationship, but hey, if it worked...

Yeah right.

He inhaled the exotic vanilla spice scent of her skin and hair as he sucked her flesh into his mouth in a love bite, releasing it before he left too much of a mark on her. Though he wanted to mark her.

He used teeth on her shoulder, making her shudder. This was crazy. She was so strong, so determined, so independent, who knew she would melt at a little rough play? Who knew he’d be so engorged he was going to burst?

Bah. He’d be that way no matter what if he was in bed with Samara. He knew it without a doubt. He’d always known it and had kicked his own ass over and over about it. He’d even thought he was a sicko pervert about it.

Maybe he still was.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he nibbled his way down to her breasts again, this time slowly, lusciously tasting her, sucking her, making her whimper and shift beneath him. This time he wanted to take his time with her and taste her everywhere.

But first he had to take his damn clothes off.

He sat up and stripped his shirt off over his head then shucked out of shorts and underwear. His cock was hard and throbbing and ready to go again. Already.

Kneeling between her legs, he gently pushed her thighs apart and studied her.

“Travis.” She inhaled his name on a long breath.

“Yeah.”

So pretty. So fucking hot. Bare and smooth, her pink folds glistened and pouted, her clit peeking out from between. His mouth watered, and he bent his head to press a kiss against one firm thigh, then the other.

Her fingers slid into his hair again. His scalp was sensitive, but the sensation of her tugging on his hair only added to the pleasure that sizzled over his body. He inhaled deeply, the warm feminine scent of her filling his head, making him almost dizzy. He kissed her mound, and she jerked against his mouth. Then he slowly licked and kissed his way down between her thighs, sucking the smooth flesh into his mouth gently, running his tongue up and down, up and down, around her quivering clit but not over it. Not yet.

Her hips lifted. Her fingers tugged. Her lips parted, and eyes closed, she made small mewling noises deep in her throat.

Then he kissed her clit, a firm kiss right over it, and she cried out.

Damn. They still had to be quiet. That was taking a lot of the fun out of the whole thing. He wanted her to let loose so he could hear her enjoyment.

He was going to have to get a place of his own, away from Dayna. Yeah.

In the meantime, Samara dragged a pillow over her face to muffle the cries and moans she couldn’t help but make as he dragged his tongue over her straining clit then sucked it into his mouth.

Her muffled scream almost made him come, and he sucked her climax into his mouth, pushing a finger inside her so he could feel her tighten and pulse. The snug ring at her entrance grabbed onto his finger so tightly that, again, he almost came.

When her small convulsions had stopped, he drew back and rolled her onto her tummy. She made murmur of protest, but her body was limp and boneless.

He just wanted to explore more. Sweeping his hands over the curve of her bottom, he leaned down to press damp kisses there. He spread her thighs again so he could still see all her girl parts, swollen and flushed dark pink, and the trickle of pale fluid easing from her center.

Christ. His balls tightened up to his body, and his skin crawled with an intense need for her. So much for his plan to take things slowly. At least he’d given her one orgasm first.

He took in a deep, slow breath, willed his body to slow down, and stroked his hands up and down the backs of her thighs to her knees, making her shiver, then back up over that sweet little ass.

He pressed a kiss to the small dimples at the base of her spine then licked his way up the furrow of her back, pushed her long hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck, soft and warm and fragrant.

“You’re killing me,” she moaned.

“Mmm.” He drew in her scent again and moved over her, ready to take her from behind.

“No.” Her whisper and her hand on his cock stopped him.

He swallowed.

She moved beneath him, wriggling, slipping out from under him.

He rose up on his knees to stare down at her, skin prickling all over, his cock so rigid it hurt.

She twisted around, all gleaming pale gold skin, tight little nipples and long curtain of flaming hair. She reached for him. For his cock. He watched open-mouthed as she took him between her palms, and when she stroked down, the top of his head almost burst off.

Samara crouched on her knees, leaned down, and took him in her mouth. Sensation exploded through his nerves. Her tongue swirled around him, hot and silky, and then her lips closed over him and she sucked, hot and wet and clinging. His mind went blank, his head fell back, and his consciousness narrowed to the feel of her mouth on him, sublime ecstasy.

He reached for her head, twisted his hand into her long hair and held on as she slid up and down the length of him. Heat enveloped him, pulsing warmth, as she greedily licked and sucked him, voracious, enthusiastic and so goddamn good. When she drew back and gazed down at him, her fingers curled around him, the head of his cock pulsing and dripping, flushed and swollen, he had to fight hard to control the orgasm that built inside. He buzzed and ached, his thighs tense and belly tight, vibrating with the need to come.

He watched her—mouth parted and shiny wet, eyes avid, hand sliding up and down on him. Then she leaned forward again, opened her mouth, and let saliva trail down over his shaft, a silvery thread that she slicked up and down with her hand. The slippery lubrication intensified the pleasure slamming through him, and he let out a string of curses that he tried hard to keep quiet.

“You feel so good,” he moaned, fingers tightening in her hair.

“You taste so good.” She bent and took him in her mouth again. Pressure built, and sensation sizzled, and he plunged over the edge.

“No,” he said hoarsely. He wanted to come inside her again, not in her mouth. Too late. There was no stopping it. It consumed him like a huge wave breaking on the shore, unstoppable, crashing over him, swamping him with pleasure. A long groan tore from him as she sucked him, swallowed him, licked him, held him.

“Shh,” she reminded him long moments later when she lifted her head, a mischievous smile curving her wet lips.

“Sorry.” Had he made noise? He didn’t even know.

They collapsed onto the bed in a heap of tangled sweaty limbs, her long hair twirled and snared around him.

“Christ, woman, your mouth is incredible.”

For someone he still thought of as young, too young, he did not want to know how she’d become such an expert at giving head. Jesus. He was destroyed.

But it wasn’t just by the blow job. It was the whole mind-blowing, speech-defying, heart-stopping experience of having sex with her. And wanting to do it again.

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