Page 115 of Dallas

This was different. This was Samantha, and he was so acutely aware of that fact. Because she pouredherinto her kisses, and he knew her better than he knew anyone else on the planet. Her kisses were sweet, sensual, with bright spots and little points of quirkiness. Nips, licks, the way she sucked his lip between her teeth, things no one else would do.

Nobody kissed like Sam. Because no one else was Sam.

And it was Sam he craved. Had craved since he was sixteen years old and learning just how strong physical desire could be. Had wanted her every day, every hour, every moment since then, no matter how hard he’d tried to pretend he hadn’t.

The freedom now, to kiss her, just kiss her, was like balm on a wound he hadn’t known he’d had.

When she pulled away they were both breathing hard and her eyes were glistening, the confusion in her expression causing a wrenching his stomach. “I...Jace.” She closedher eyes and leaned in, kissing him again. “I need you to promise me something,” she said when she pulled away.

“What?”

“This won’t ruin us.”

“How could it?” he asked, even as he thought of a million different ways. But for him, their relationship was already changed. Because when her lips had touched his a moment ago he’d realized how much feeling he’d been holding back. And now that he’d seen it, now that he felt it, he couldn’t go back to pretending it wasn’t there.

It was too late for things to be unspoiled for him. And maybe it was selfish of him to want to push on through the feelings. If their friendship wasn’t changed forever for her, then maybe he should keep it that way.

But he felt selfish. Completely and totally ungentlemanly. And he was okay with that. Right now, he was very okay with it.

“Sam,” he said, “I care for you. I’m attracted to you. We’ll follow through and see what happens. It can’t ruin things. What we have is too strong.”

“Just sex?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. And he hated the answer. Because he wished he could give her more. He wished he could have more. But he couldn’t make those promises. And he knew Sam didn’t want them.

Sex was one thing, but bringing emotions in—that was one gamble too far. Friendship and sex, a change to excise the wanting that was starting to take over his body, his life.

He was just now realizing that Sam was the reason he hadn’t had sex in eight months. She was the reason none of the women in his life lasted for very long. He couldn’t get over the longing. The what if. And if they could just do it now, if he could take away the mystery, then maybe hecould get over that desire. Maybe he could go back to being the friend that he should be.

Yeah, somehow, in his lust-fogged mind, that made sense. A fix-it fuck. That was what they needed.

“Okay.”

She leaned in and kissed him again, that deep, sweet kiss that was like getting hit in the face with all the things he’d always wanted growing up but never had. A home that felt like comfort, spice and love. Companionship. Understanding. A place he could stay and rest forever. A refuge from everything ugly. She was so beautiful, her kiss so intoxicating, there was no room for bad feelings.

He closed his eyes and let it all wash over him, through him. This was more than lust. More than want. More than the F word he’d thought of a moment ago. This was more than he’d bargained for.

And they’d only kissed. But it was a kiss that had altered his whole body, from the inside out.

She pulled away, extending her hand, touching his lips with the tips of her finger. “I didn’t know how much I wanted this,” she said.

“I knew how much I wanted it.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her forward, leaning back and bringing her with him so that she was astride him. She shrieked and braced herself on the couch arm behind his head. His erection was cradled by the heat at the apex of her thighs, her legs draped over his. He braced his hands on her hips and looked up at her, at her wide eyes and open mouth and he thought that if he died then, he could die happy.

Almost. It would be better if he could be inside of her first.

Just the thought made his bloodpump hot and fast, made him feel like he was on the edge of losing it. His control, his mind. Everything.

Sam put her hands on his chest and leaned back, tilting her head to the side, her hair spilling over her shoulder, red with gold fire around the edges in the dim lamplight.

The movie was still on, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything right now. Anything beyond what it felt like to have Sam touch him like this.

“I seem to have forgotten how to do this,” she whispered. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I’m at your mercy, Sam. If this is you forgetting how, I’m in big trouble if you ever remember your moves.”

“Can we stop talking?”

“I’m in favor of that.”

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