Читать книгу The Watson Brothers - Lori Foster - Страница 7

Ariel had never felt so exposed in her entire life. She gulped and tried to find a little courage.

“I’m waiting.”

He just stood there, his arms crossed over his hairy chest, his feet braced apart. His silky dark hair was mussed, hanging over his brow and beard shadow darkened his jaws and upper lip. His long black lashes hung low over his piercing eyes, direct, taunting. Watchful and expectant.

She wanted to throw him to the floor and drag his slacks off his gorgeous body and kiss him all over. But he wanted to do things his own way and she knew Sam well enough to know it was his way or not at all.

“All right.” Feeling awkward and unsophisticated, she hooked her thumbs in her panties and pushed them down. Sam held her left elbow as she tried to step out, but she caught her stupid sandals on the leg bands, getting her panties twisted. She should have removed the shoes first but she wasn’t exactly an expert at stripping with an audience.

When she finally got them free, she dropped the panties on the floor with the rest of her clothes and started to sit down to take off her sandals.

Sam had other ideas. “I like the look.” His voice was gruff, raw. “Leave them on.”

She peeked at him, but he stared at her belly, or more specifically, below her belly. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he reached out and stroked his fingers through her pubic hair.

“Part your legs a little.”

This test of his was a killer. If he’d only kiss her again, hold her…but he wasn’t going to. She knew he wanted her to shy away, to run home scared. To prove she wasn’t a mature, experienced woman.

The experience part…well, hopefully he’d forgive her for that. But she was a woman, his woman, if he’d only stop being so pigheaded. She forced her chin up and set one foot several inches from the other.

“You’re not as blond here,” he said while still fingering her curls. “But then your brows and lashes are a few shades darker too. It’s pretty.”

Never in her twenty-four years had she expected such a conversation to take place. He was complimenting her on her…well, on something very private. This wasn’t at all as she’d assumed lovemaking would be. She thought there’d be a lot of reciprocal touching, breathless loss of control, and a simultaneous agreement to move forward in intimacy.

At the same time, being here with him like this was so wildly exciting, she knew she was wet and she feared he’d know it too in just a moment.

He stepped away from her. “Turn around.”

Her mind went blank. What in the world did he have planned now? Breath rushed in and out of her lungs. Feeling wooden and clumsy in the stupid shoes, she forced herself to move. When her back was to him, he said, “There. I want to look at you.”

She tried to stand straight and tall, but more than anything she just wanted to crawl into the bed under the covers and then convince Sam to crawl under them with her.

The touch of his breath on her nape raised her awareness another notch.

“I love your ass,” he whispered, and then both his hands covered her there, squeezing and cuddling. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until her eyes closed. Without thinking, she reached back for him. Her fingertips just grazed his fly long enough for her to feel the straining power of his erection.

“No.” He caught her hands. “No touching from you.” He placed her hands alongside her thighs.

“I want to touch you,” she said. “The same way you’re touching me.”

“Yeah? Like this?” His hands came around her and he caught her nipples in his fingertips.

Her back arched. “Sam…”

“You like that, don’t you?” He tugged, plucked, and rolled. He opened his palms and grazed them over her, then covered her breasts, gently holding them while he kissed her shoulder, her nape. Every damp warm touch of his mouth brought her temperature up another degree.

“Answer me, Ariel.”

“I like it, but…I’d like it more if I could touch you, too.”

He laughed, the sound masculine and satisfied. “I just bet you would. But then you’d be breaking the rules and we can’t have that.”

He went back to tormenting her nipples and he took so long she wasn’t sure she could stand it. Her every nerve ending was alive, sizzling. Stars danced in front of her closed eyes, her breasts ached and felt heavy, and between her legs she throbbed and burned.

And still he just played with her breasts and kissed her shoulders and back and neck.

In desperation, she whispered, “Sam, please.” She honestly didn’t know how much more she could take. An imminent explosion skirted through her, almost there, but not quite. Her hips moved, embarrassing her, shaming her but she couldn’t seem to hold still.

“All right,” he whispered. But he didn’t turn her to him. Instead, those tantalizing hands coasted down her ribs, over her belly, and between her legs. “Open them more.”

Trying but unable to get her legs to cooperate, she whimpered.

He helped her, putting one large foot between hers and nudging them open. “More. I want to be able to get to you.”

Oh God.

“How I teased your nipples? I’ll do that here, too.” His fingertips brushed against her clitoris and she cried out at the electrifying sensation—then felt his smile press to her shoulder. “Yeah, right there,” he said in deep triumph. “It’ll make you crazy, Ariel, and if we’re both lucky, you’ll come for me. I want you to, you know.”

Horrified by the thought of standing and performing to his demands, she stiffened. Surely he didn’t expect her to do such a thing with him detached, manipulating her but uninvolved?

“Don’t stiffen up on me.” Gently, using only his fingertips, he opened her. “We’ll get to the bed, I promise. No way in hell will this be it. Unless you tell me to stop.” Carefully, holding her open with one hand, he circled her clitoris again. She felt his fingers, his rough, warm fingers, moving over her and she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen into her starved lungs. For one brief instant, she thought she might actually faint.

“Breathe, Ariel.” He held still, waiting, leaning over her shoulder to watch her face. She did, gulping air and shaking from head to toe. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? I wonder if you can do this standing up. Some women can’t you know. That tidal wave of melting pleasure washes over you and your legs go weak and…” He shrugged. “I’ll hold you, though. Don’t worry.”

Staring straight ahead at the window opposite his bed, Ariel bit her lip, fighting the urge to plead with him again.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.”

“Yes.”

He opened his mouth on her neck, giving her a soft love bite—and pushed his middle finger into her.

Her head fell back, a deep, shuddering groan escaping her. He gave an answering growl of pleasure and pressed deeper and it was the most amazing thing, a little embarrassing, very arousing. Her hips moved again and this time she didn’t care.

“You’re small. And hot. And you feel so damn good.”

Ariel was well beyond words. She hung in his arms, her legs open, all her attention on his hands and how he touched her and the expanding pleasure that would ebb and then grow stronger as it rolled through her.

With his finger pressed deep inside her, he found her clitoris with his thumb and he began an incredible slick friction that sent her right over the edge. She cried out, stunned at what she felt, at her total loss of control. She couldn’t be quiet, couldn’t hold still.

True to his word, Sam wrapped one muscled arm around her waist and held her upright while he continued the press and retreat of his fingers, kept the pleasure flowing until indeed, her legs gave out and she slumped into him, boneless, exhausted, replete.

His arm stayed locked around her while he lifted the other hand. Ariel roused herself enough to turn her head and look at him. She saw his eyes close, saw him suck his fingers into his mouth, taking her taste, her wetness.

Their eyes met. Looking far too serious, he pulled his fingers out and touched them to her lips. She shuddered, but was too spent to pull away.

Gently, Sam lowered her to the bed on her stomach, then stretched out beside her. He stroked her head, found the few pins that still held her hair and pulled them out to flick them across the room. With an open hand, he combed out the curls, spreading them over the pillow.

“Sam?”

“Mmm?” Propped on one elbow, he continued to pet her, down her spine, over her bottom.

“Will you make love to me now?”

He slanted glittering eyes at her and said, “You just can’t be quiet, can you?”

Ariel felt hurt. He’d just done the most amazing thing to her and still he was apart from her. It wasn’t easy, but she got her sluggish limbs to work and turned on her side to face him. He stared down at her body, his gaze concentrated, hot.

She stared at his chest. Among a smattering of older scars randomly dispersed over his torso, there was a fresh, dark bruise coloring his ribs, evidence of the night he’d just had. Stricken, Ariel thought of how many times he’d been hurt, how much he must have suffered in his efforts to protect. Maybe, she thought, he physically wasn’t up to making love with her. Old wounds, new wounds…Was she being selfish?

He’d already given her pleasure without intercourse. She could do the same, sparing his sore body.

Wanting to make him feel as good as she did, Ariel leaned forward and brushed a butterfly kiss over the nearest scar, a small bullet wound that grazed his shoulder. Sam froze, not even breathing.

Encouraged, she spread her hands over his chest, tangling her fingers in his dark chest hair, stroking him as he’d stroked her.

Ariel noted a thin, light line near his collarbone, about two inches long. It looked like it might have been a deep cut, perhaps with a knife. Appalled at the awful risks he took, she kissed that, too.

This close, his scent was twice as potent. Those odd turbulent feelings roused in her again.

She kissed three bruises, one on his shoulder, his temple, another on his ribs. “Sam,” she whispered, and opened her mouth on him. His skin was deliciously warm and sleek, his flesh firm. Turning her head, she moved closer to a flat nipple hidden beneath his chest hair. Her tongue touched him.

Sam grabbed her shoulders. In a heartbeat, Ariel found herself flat on her back with Sam straddling her hips. “I said no touching, Ariel.”

She blinked up at him, unable to move, confused by how quickly he’d reversed their positions. He sounded so stern, looked so dangerous. “I’ll try…”

“Too late.”

Her eyes widened. Oh no. He was going to tell her to leave. He would throw her out and she hadn’t had a real chance yet to make him understand how perfect they’d be together.

He stretched her arms high until they nearly touched the slatted headboard, then reached across her for the nightstand and jerked open the top drawer. Ariel twisted, trying to see what he was doing…He pulled out handcuffs.

“Sam.”

“I haven’t had much chance to use these since going undercover.” He let them dangle in front of her face, waiting, she knew, for her to protest, to insist he release her.

They stared at each other, his expression lethal, hers uncertain, but neither of them backed down. Sam leaned over her.

One metal bracelet clicked around her wrist, then clicked and clicked again when he tightened it to fit her small bones. She had room to turn her hand, but she couldn’t slip it free. Her stomach fluttered in apprehension.

He glared down at her. “You ready to call a halt?”

Damn him. She wasn’t a criminal he could intimidate so easily, because she knew Sam would never hurt her. No matter his games, no matter his intent, she knew him, loved him, and trusted him. “No.”

His mouth tightened. “Make sure, Ariel.”

She would not let him scare her. She would not let him off the hook that easily, either. One way or another, she’d get through to him, even if that meant showing him her trust first by playing out these bizarre games of sexual dominance.

She stared him in the eyes. “I’m sure.”

Sam wanted to howl, to curse the moon and punch a hole in the wall. Ariel had taken his control and turned it back on him, openly sharing her pleasure, then kissing his injuries—old and new—as if she wanted to heal him.

Like a few stupid marks on his body really mattered to her.

He was so damn hard his guts clenched and his brain cramped. Watching Ariel come had been something he’d never forget. She was so sweet she made him break out in a sweat just by smiling.

Would she taste as sweet as she looked?

Jesus. Before he could change his mind he caught her other wrist, aware of how tiny her bones were, how delicate. He slipped the chain connecting the handcuffs through a slat in the headboard then snapped the cold steel around her.

Breathing hard in both regret and shattering lust, he looked down at her pale, slim body stretched out beneath him, shackled in place. He didn’t want to think about anything, he only wanted to devour her, to take everything she had and give her another mind-blowing orgasm.

He plumped up her breasts in his hands, thumbed her nipples roughly, watched her squirm.

“Not a word,” he warned, knowing if she started telling him what she wanted again, he’d lose the fight. He moved off her, opened her legs wide and repositioned himself between them, on his knees so he could drape her legs over his. “That’s better.”

Those beautiful hazel eyes of hers, now more topaz than brown, watched him without blinking, conveying some silent message that he damn well didn’t want to hear. Her mouth looked puffy and soft and kissable. Her small chin quivered, but not because she might cry. No, he knew Ariel wouldn’t do that.

Probably it quivered with stubbornness.

“I like to see a woman, all of her, when I take her,” he explained. Her legs draped his, white against his dark slacks, sleek and lightly muscled. He looked at her breasts. Earlier her nipples had been velvety soft, but once he’d touched them, they’d stayed puckered, begging for his mouth.

She lightly licked her lips, luring him. Bracing his hands on the pillow at either side of her head, Sam bent down and savaged her mouth with ruthless hunger, kissing her hard, thrusting his tongue between her teeth. She didn’t fight him or pull back. No, she accepted his tongue, sucked on it, returned his kiss with equal passion.

He groaned, aware of her straining up to him, trying to get more of him. Her thighs were tensed, her belly lifting into him.

He pulled himself away and took his pleasure at her breasts. He loved suckling a woman and could be content to spend an hour on her nipples alone. But not this time. As soon as Ariel started writhing, he moved lower, nibbling on her ribs, then lower still until he could dip his tongue into her navel.

She held her breath, anticipating what he might do, he knew. Did she like oral sex? Had any man ever kissed her between her thighs? He hoped not. He wanted to be the first.

“Wider,” he said as he pressed her legs farther apart and held them in place when she would have automatically brought them together again. He glanced up at her still face, flushed but uncertain. “Keep them that way.”

Using his fingertips, he opened her lips, exposing her glistening pink flesh. Her clitoris was swollen from her recent climax, extra sensitive. Gently, he kissed her, heard her shocked, eager gasp, and he closed his mouth around the tender bud.

With a hoarse cry, she nearly lurched away, but he cupped her hips firmly in his big hands and held her secure. Because he knew her nerve endings were already tingling, still alive from her last orgasm, he was very careful not to push her too fast, to cause her any discomfort. He suckled softly, easily, taking his time, stroking with his tongue. When she was ready for more, her legs stiffened and her arms pulled tight against her bonds.

“Sam,” she said, all breathless and low. “Sam, Sam, Sam…”

Her cries were raw, real, and he loved it, the way she responded, the pleasure he gave her so easily. She didn’t hold back at all, didn’t try to temper her response. He replaced his mouth with his fingers and raised his head to see her face.

Her neck was arched, her teeth clenched, her breasts heaving. “Beautiful,” he breathed, ready to come just from looking at her. After endless moments, she quieted, and Sam moved up beside her, smoothed her hair from her face, placed a kiss on her open lips.

“That was nice.” He waited, but she didn’t open her eyes, didn’t reply. Sam smiled. “For a youngin’, you come with a lot of energy. I like it.”

Sweat glistened on her chest, the tops of her cheekbones. A rosy flush covered her body and her heart still raced. With an obvious effort, she licked her lips, swallowed, and said, “Shut up, Sam.”

He grinned, fighting off a chuckle. “You’re not supposed to talk.”

She cast him a wanton look that nearly did him in. “No? I’ve never been handcuffed before, Officer. What should I be doing?”

Sam lowered his hand to her belly and felt it hollow out when she dragged in a breath. “Rest. You’re going to need your strength.”

“I am?”

“Mmm. I’ll give you a few minutes before we start again.”

Her eyes widened, darkened. “Start…? Sam, no. I…I can’t.”

He pushed his hand lower until he cupped her mound. She was slick, very wet and pulsing with heat. “Yes you can.” All the teasing left him. “I’ll see to it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Sam…”

“Crying uncle?”

A sob almost rose in her throat, but she managed to swallow it back. Sam watched her closely, waiting for the words he needed to hear, waiting for her to tell him to fuck off, to get out of her life once and for all.

“No. I’m not crying uncle.”

They watched each other, at a stalemate, until finally Sam cursed. “Fine. Have it your way.” His fingers curled against her, his middle finger sinking past her creamy wetness, into her up to his first knuckle—and someone rang his doorbell.

They both jerked to a breathless, astonished standstill. Their motions were frozen.

Ariel gasped, “You have company?”

Sam shoved himself off the bed and stalked to the window, barely moving the curtain aside to peer out. “Ah fuck.”

A loud knock sounded.

He turned to Ariel, took in the sight of her handcuffed naked to his bed and knew he’d just screwed up royally.

“Who is it?” she whispered in a fearful voice.

Sam rubbed his face. “It’s Pete.”

“Ohmigod.” She began jerking and twisting. “Let me loose!”

He walked past her. “No, just be quiet. I’ll get rid of him and be right back. I promise.” He snatched up his shirt and pulled it on.

“Sam!” Her face went white. “Don’t you dare leave me here like—”

He held a finger to his lips. “Shhh. You made a deal, Ariel. Now keep it. If you’re real quiet, Pete will never know you’re here.” He pulled the door shut, aware of her distress—and aware of his own regret. But she did fall silent, thank God.

He closed the door and trotted quickly down the stairs. His brain churned, trying to think of what to say, how to explain Ariel’s car in his driveway, how to get rid of his baby brother.

Pete knocked again, growing impatient.

“All right already, give it a rest.” Sam threw the door open. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

Pete, looking healthy and happy and in something of a hurry, burst in and said, “I need the keys to Gil’s boat.”

“What?”

His black hair was mussed, his shirt untucked and he had a hickey on his neck. “Gil’s out of town, but he said I could use his boat only I don’t have a spare key and you do.”

“Gil’s out of town?”

“Yeah. Business—don’t you remember? He’s been gone all week. Forget that part. Just give me the key.”

Suspicious, Sam leaned around Pete to look out the door. His brother’s sporty little Focus was at the curb, still running, and in the passenger seat was a cute blond. “Ah. Big plans?”

Pete bobbed his eyebrows. “Is she hot or what?”

Amazed that Pete apparently hadn’t even noticed Ariel’s car in the drive, Sam went to the kitchen for the spare key to Gil’s houseboat. “Yeah, she’s cute.”

“Cute? You’ve gotta be kidding me. She’s in my statistics class, smart as hell and sexier than that.”

“And willing?”

With a sly look, Pete said, “Oh yeah.”

At twenty-two, Pete was a good-looking kid with an athlete’s body that had yet to finish filling out, sincere brown eyes, and a sexual drive exclusive to young male animals of the human variety. Sam loved him so much that it sometimes hurt and in the three years since their father’s death, he’d felt more responsible for him than ever.

He held the key out of reach. “You got protection?”

“No, you wanna loan me a gun?” He grinned.

Sam didn’t take birth control lightly. “You know what I mean, Pete.”

“She’s got it covered.”

Scowling, Sam grabbed him by the ear and lifted him to his tiptoes. “She does? How many times do I have to tell you—”

Laughing and wincing at the same time, Pete pulled a condom from his pocket and waved it under Sam’s nose. “Hey, I was teasing, all right! It’s covered. Literally.”

Sam turned him loose. “That’s it? One?”

“With three more in the glove box.”

“Then don’t exceed four, you hear me?”

Pete snatched the keys from his hand. “Yeah, four.” He held his heart and pretended to stagger. “Four.”

Sam laughed and walked him back to the door. Not for a single moment was he unaware of Ariel upstairs, naked, waiting. “You like them blond, huh?”

Pete shrugged. “Or brunette or redhead or…”

“Well, I meant because both she and Ariel are blond.”

“She,” Pete emphasized, “is a lot more fun than Ariel ever tried to be.”

Sam’s knees locked. “Yeah? How so?”

“You kidding me? All Ariel could ever say was no, no, and no. No real dates, no kissing, and definitely no sex. Got to where I thought my name was No-Pete.”

Sam’s heart gave a heavy thump. “She cut ya cold, huh?” Now why the hell did that thrill him so much?

“She cut everyone cold, not just me. She told me she was waiting till she got married.” Pete rolled his eyes.

Dropping back against the wall, Sam said, “No shit?” His head started to pound.

“Yeah, real old-fashioned attitude, right? I think she just liked to lead guys on. You know, like a tease.”

Anger roiled up, making him want to take Pete by the ear again. He didn’t, because it shouldn’t matter to him what was said about Ariel. But as a big brother, he could say a few general things, and did. “I hope like hell you’re not repeating that to anyone but me, because if I hear of it, I’ll be royally pissed.”

“I know.” Pete winked. “Preserve a woman’s honor no matter what. I remember.”

Sam caught his arm. “I mean it, Pete.”

He looked down at the hand holding him with marked confusion. “No sweat. I liked Ariel a lot, still do as a friend. But she made sure it was never more than that, end of story.”

“You were really hung up on her.”

“I thought I was. Gil told me I was suffering lust, not love and I have to admit he was right. But hey, I’m not bitter and I’m not out to trash her.” He tipped his head toward the door. “I am out to have a good time tonight though, if this impromptu lecture is over.”

Sam opened his fingers by force of will. “It’s over. Just be careful.”

“I’m twenty-two, Sam. Not fifteen.”

“I remember. Make sure you remember it, too.”

Rolling his eyes again, Pete playfully punched him in the ribs—causing Sam considerable pain, which he managed to hide—and then Pete trotted out to his car. Sam propped himself in the doorway, waved to the young lady when she laughed and lifted her hand toward him, and once the car pulled away he closed and locked the door.

Ariel had wanted to wait till she got married.

His pulse raced, causing a wild thrumming in his ears. Breath held, he looked up the stairs at that closed bedroom door. Surely to God she wasn’t a virgin?

But even as he thought it, his balls tightened and his blood boiled. He could be her first. That upped the stakes even more, made the temptation nearly impossible to resist. He had a choice to make—take her and give himself a fantasy to last a lifetime.

Or send her innocent little butt packing while he still could.

There was really no choice at all.