Page 31 of Wild Card

“A start? What the hell are you—”

A high-pitched whir stopped her. She jumped toward Sam as the floor and walls trembled—just before the roof started moving. No…sliding.

The “light switch” hadn’t been that at all. It was a button telling the roof to retract, revealing a skylight the size of the entire bed, exposing the billion stars in the sky overhead. A smaller door retracted directly over the bathtub.

Lights? Who the hell needed lights?

Sam, seeming to read exactly that thought, punched another button—dousing all the track lighting over the main room.

Her tote dropped from her grip. Her jaw felt like it followed.

“Oh my God.” The stars seemed to zoom closer. Unable to resist, Jen walked to the bed. Turned around and flopped back onto it. She gasped aloud, raising a hand toward the firmament, almost expecting the spectral fabric to ripple at her touch. “Holy crap. This is…whoa.”

Yeah, back to being the one-syllable wonder. She didn’t even feel obligated to apologize for it. Sam’s satisfied rumble gave her even more clearance. He walked to the edge of the bed but didn’t join her on it. His chivalry was adorable—and turned her body into five more flavors of pudding. Didn’t he know that from this angle, he was more spectacular than ever? His physique, even more perfect. His eyes caught the glow of the celestial magic from above. And his lips, quirking in a mixture of mischief and adoration, made her crave to feel them on her again. Everywhere on her…

It was so time to get off the bed.

She’d only managed to sit up when he folded his arms like a cocky genie and stated, “Had a little ken you’d like it.”

“Bullshit,” she volleyed. “You ‘had a little ken’ I’d love it.” She meant to say more but was blasted by a wave of emotion. Like the universe itself had retracted the roof of her heart, she couldn’t escape the light show it exposed. Everything tumbled in like a meteor shower, brilliant and blinding and burning. Damn appropriate, since that was exactly what happened to the backs of her eyes. “Shit.” She ducked her head, unable to even risk looking at him anymore. “Sam.”

Damn it. She shouldn’t have even risked that. The hitch in her voice caused the snag in his breath. “Jenny?” His hand, huge and warm, descended on her head. Threaded through her hair. “Hey, hey. What is it, mouse?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” His brogue turned even the slang to magic. She smiled but kept her gaze diverted.

“It’s—it’s nothing, Sam. I think I’m just tired.” And floored. And completely knocked out that you did all this…for me. It’s amazing and you’re amazing and I love you so damn much, it’ hard to breathe. To think. To—

“Jenny.”

His growl dictated one message. He wasn’t giving up. But she had to make him. Somehow…

Ohhhh, crap.

“Somehow” got its answer fast. The very option she’d been so confident about avoiding was now her only path toward derailing him off his quest for her truth. And at this moment, she wondered if it wasn’t just what she needed too. Maybe a hard, sweaty roll in the star-drenched hay would remind her Sam Mackenna was, under all his gallantry and beauty, just a man, not her damn destiny.

Enforcement intact, she let her head pivot beneath his touch—until her mouth rested on the zipper of his jeans. Silently, deliberately, she leaned in—and bit at the harsh fabric.

“Jenny!”

“Ssshhh.” She grabbed his empty belt loops, yanking him closer.

“But I didn’t bring you here to—” His second moan was louder than the first, as she rubbed her mouth up and down his surging ridge. The heat of his cock made its way past the denim, teasing at her lips.

“So…” She gave it a touch of brat mixed with a dash of coy. “You don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No.” She twisted the button beneath her mouth free. Tugged open the denim. Licked at the taut abdominal flesh beneath. “You certainly didn’t.”

She yearned to explore more. Slipped both hands up beneath his shirt, roller-coastering over the ridges of his abs, before descending again. Her nails scraped into his skin, following the muscled V that disappeared beneath his waistband. The second time she glided them up, Sam shucked the shirt, sighing roughly as her fingers pressed, caressed, claimed.

His whole body quaked as her hands came back to center. This time, she flowed her touch over his crotch, rubbing his perfect penis through the jeans. It was a powerful feeling, to know he throbbed and burned like this because of her…for her. If this was half of what he experienced when dominating her, she understood his fascination with the dynamic more clearly.

After she made several passes at his sex, Sam twisted his hand against her scalp. Another yank and her head was snapped back, until the brunt of his gaze swept over her. He took her breath away. His lips were twisted with lust, his nostrils flaring on full breaths…but his eyes were the hottest centerpiece. They burned, pure molten silver, until dripping through every inch of her quivering, needy body.

“So what will I say now, darlin’?” His voice was just as hot and liquid. “You know, don’t you?”

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