Page 32 of Wild Card

“I can hope.” She didn’t dare dip her eyes back to his crotch. With gaze still locked to his, she kissed it.

Sam growled long and low. Used his other hand to pull down his zipper. Jen wasn’t surprised—and a hell of a lot of grateful—that he was commando beneath. His cock surged from the gap, bobbing in front of her, tip gleaming with the evidence of his need. As he slid the zipper lower, she greedily inhaled his distinct scent. Cedar, spices, sex…all man. Damn. He was so broad and powerful and virile—and right now, he was so hers. She prayed he’d let her prove it in the most primal way possible.

He pushed on her head, aligning her face with his erection.

Yes…

“Open your mouth, Jenny.”

Ohhhh, yes.

“Wider. Let me see your tongue.”

Please. Please.

“So perfect.” Exactly like her fantasy, he fitted his shaft into her mouth. “So warm. Fuck. So soft.”

She moaned, closing over him, drinking the tangy drops that hovered in his slit. His veins beat against her tongue. His flesh pulsed hot against her lips. His hips clenched as he struggled to ease into her slowly, but she hoped her impatient mewls would urge him otherwise. She didn’t want careful and tender. She wanted—needed—to feel all the force of his passion, every drop of animal lust in his blood.

Thank God he was a damn smart man.

He thrusted a little harder. A little more. The grip on her head grew tighter, more demanding, as he positioned her for each stab of his cock. Jen opened up the back of her throat, letting him invade even there, accepting every inch of lust he desired to give her. Still she wanted more. Told him so by moving her hands beneath his clothes, cupping them around his firm, perfect ass. With every lunge he gave her with his dick, his glutes tightened beneath her touch. The sensation made her groan, mesmerized with every inch of his powerful body.

“Damn.” It escaped him on a rugged grunt. “Damn, damn, damn, Jenny.” When she responded with a lusty little sigh, he continued, “My sweet a leanbh. You love me fuckin’ you like this, don’t you? Takin’ your mouth like this, with every inch of my cock?”

“Mmmmm hmmmm.” She’d read enough to know that the trashy little hum would stimulate him in fun new ways, especially if she hollowed her cheeks at the same time. She never anticipated what it would do for her own arousal, though—that hearing the evidence of her acquiescence would make her feel so much sexier.

Sexy.

Wow. Yes.

Maybe “sexy” really wasn’t just Mattie’s curves and blonde hair, or Tess’s svelte grace and sass. That maybe “sexy” had been inside her all along, and it just took Sam’s eyes to make her see it—but best of all, to believe it.

Nothing contributed more to the cause than the combination of growl and hiss he let out—just before increasing his pace and deepening his lunges. “Yes. That’s it. Take me deep. Take me down into your throat.” But as she closed her eyes, focusing on doing just that, Sam tilted her head back, compelling her stare back open. “Stay with me, girl. You’ll watch every shred of desire I have for you. Every dirty, wicked thought I have about you. Look at it all, Jenny. Look at every way I adore you…need you.”

Need you.

The words drilled through her body, pulsing into her sex…and all of her soul. Because that wasn’t an idiotic idea, right? Hotwiring one’s pussy to their heart? After all, it worked so well for the millions of other women who’d tried it before her…

But there was the not-so-small matter of keeping her gaze locked to his. Of watching every raw, wild expression on his face. The tear of each moan past his lips. The charcoal lust in his eyes, darkening as she made him swell and grow, thicken and harden. It all proved his words as truth, not just rote Highlander seduction.

And there’s some land down the way you might be interested in too, lady. Word says if you stand on it, click your heels three times and whisper “There’s no place like home”, an oasis will appear with cabana boys, dancing munchkins, and calorie-free margaritas.

And Sam Mackenna was really her soul mate.

That kind of fairy tale only happened in—well—fairy tales. And since she didn’t have to worry about the helicopter turning back into a pumpkin, she needed to enjoy every moment of this. Only this. Let every drop of its magic burst through her. Let every thrill of its arousal carry her. And yeah, let Sam see every ounce of it, too. The pleasure he brought her. The warmth he wrapped around her. The new vistas he’d opened for her, especially about herself. With him, she wasn’t geeky or gawky or clumsy. She was smart, sexy, and beautiful.

She just couldn’t get too attached to the feeling.

She reaffirmed the vow as he pulled from her, breathing shakily, dragging both hands through his hair. Didn’t help much with containing her vamp grin as he shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Stay,” he finally directed, pointing at her. “I’ll be right back. Surely there’s one box of condoms in this place.”

The moment he said it, Jen giggled. Sometimes, genius struck her at the strangest times. “Stay.” She trumped his bossy finger with a wagging one of her own. Reached for her makeup tote. Between her concealer and her lip gloss, exactly where it’d dropped earlier, was the packet emblazoned with the Nyte’s logo. “Courtesy of the wedding salon ladies room.” She offered it up in triumph.

One of his brows jumped. “And I had you marked as the lotion pilferin’ type.”

“It wasn’t pilfered.” She pouted. “It fell.”

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