Page 41 of The Survivor
He removed his shirt, revealing a wall of solid, tanned muscle, a chest so spectacular her breath jammed in her throat. She found herself reaching out to touch him, skimmed the light feathering of dark hair that tunneled down and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. She stroked him for a moment, then awkwardly moved her hand, suddenly uncertain.
“It’s okay to touch me.” He chuckled quietly.
“I…” She bit her lip as trepidation bubbled inside her. “I’m scared, Blake.”
The way his features softened with empathy frustrated her. Dammit. Why was this happening? She’d been so sure just moments before, so certain she wanted to do this. Now as she lay in front of him, exposed and vulnerable, her fears rushed back and the only thing she could think of was the night she’d discovered a killer in her bedroom.
Her brain registered that this was Blake in front of her, but her eyes twisted and contorted his image until all she saw was gleaming red eyes and a face veiled by shadows. She slammed her eyelids shut, clamped her mouth so she wouldn’t cry out.Panic seized her body. She shuddered violently, and then…then Blake’s hand was stroking her cheek.
“I’m not him, Sam.” His gentle voice prompted her to open her eyes. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know.” Shedidknow, and yet her muscles refused to relax.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his gaze steadily meeting hers.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then we’ll take it slow, all right?”
She nodded wordlessly. Watched as he moved closer and stretched his long lean body next to her on the bed. He kept his pants on, but his bare chest still dominated the dimly lit room, making him appear lethal and appealing all at once. His muscles bunched and flexed at each movement, oozing with strength. And his abdomen was rippled, a six-pack so chiseled pioneer women could have washed their clothes on it. He was so unbelievably sexy, somale.
When he touched her again she didn’t flinch or shudder, just held her breath and let him caress her. His hand moved lower, grazing her neck, her collarbone, gliding over the cleavage jutting from her bra.
She shivered.
He pulled his hand away. “Too much?”
“Not enough,” she murmured.
She laced her fingers through his, brought his hand back to her chest and pressed it to one swollen breast. Her panic diminished as he slid a finger under the lacy cup and brushed it over her nipple, sending an exquisite shiver skipping across her body.
He unhooked the front clasp of her bra and her breasts spilled out. As the cool air met her skin, she shivered again, but Blake warmed her right up by lowering his mouth to kiss one pebbled nipple. She gasped as his lips brushed over the tight bud, as his tongue darted out to lick and explore.
Closing her eyes, Sam tried to focus on the delicious sensations coursing through her. Tried to lose herself in the feel of Blake’s mouth on her breasts and the teasing abrasions of his five o’clock shadow against her sensitive flesh.
And then his hand slid down her belly toward the juncture of her thighs, and she froze again.
Blake removed his hand. “Maybe we’d better stop.”
Disappointment flooded her. “No, I don’t want to stop. I just need…” Her voice drifted as she realized that she couldn’t even figure out what she needed, let alone vocalize it.
“You need to be in charge,” he said in a gentle voice.
“What?”
Without answering, Blake moved over so that he was lying on his back. He propped his arms behind his head. “I could easily have my way with you right now. I could take what I want from you, kiss you, touch you, drive myself inside you. But I won’t.”
Desire and distress mingled in her blood. The former, because the sensual image he’d just provided sent a spiral of heat to her core. And the latter, because he wasn’t going to follow through on it.
“Why not?”
He looked amused at the irritation in her voice. “Because I don’t want to take anything from you. I only want to give it. So the way I see it, if this is going to happen, you need to set the pace. Take what you want, Sam. Nothing will frighten you if you’re the one making it happen.”
A lump formed at the back of her throat. God, who was this man? How did he know exactly what she needed?
“And if I can’t go through with it?”
“Then at least you got one step closer.”
