Page 50 of The Survivor
He closed his eyes, trying to banish the memories to that place in his gut where for more than a year he’d kept them hidden. “I acted like a lover when I should’ve been a cop,” he squeezed out.
“You’re human, Blake. And humans make mistakes.” She paused. “And who knows, maybe your hesitation wasn’t a mistake. Maybe the guy would have shot her anyway.”
“And maybe he wouldn’t have.”
“And maybe if my parents hadn’t been workaholics, they wouldn’t have been killed by a drunk driver when they’d decided to go into the office on New Year’s Eve. There’s no point talking about ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes.’ Bad things happen.”
He drew in a long breath as Sam shifted over and climbed onto his lap. She placed a hand on each of his cheeks and forced him to look at her. He did, and saw the unmistakable compassion swimming in her silvery gaze.
“But good things happen, too, Blake.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Look at what’s happening between us. A week ago I would never have imagined that I could feel anything but fear toward a man. And look at this room—it’s dark.”
He shot her a questioning look.
“I haven’t been in a dark room for six months. At the farmhouse I slept with three lights on, for God’s sake. Don’t you understand? You’ve made me stronger, Blake.”
“I haven’t done a thing,” he said quietly. “You’re a survivor, right down to the core. You were born strong, Sam.”
He tangled his fingers in her silky brown hair and pulled her head down so that their lips were inches apart.
“Hell, you’re probably stronger than I am,” he whispered before pressing his mouth to hers.
She melted into his kiss. Still cupping his face, she angled his chin to deepen the contact.
Sitting there, with Sam’s lush body straddling him, with her firm breasts pressed against his chest and her wet tongue flicking against his, Blake’s entire body hardened.
Whether or not they had a future together, he still couldn’t fight the attraction he felt for her. That overwhelming need that sucked the oxygen from his lungs and made him weak with arousal.
He deepened the kiss, drove his tongue into her mouth and savored the sweet taste of her. A soft whimper slipped from her throat, making his desire soar like a kite on a windy day. He pushed his hands underneath her sweater and caressed her breasts, while she unzipped his pants and freed him from his boxers. She stroked him gently, and suddenly he couldn’t think, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
He tugged at her jeans and underwear, pulled them down her legs and tossed them onto the floor. Heart thumping, he rolled her onto her back and parted her smooth thighs with his hands. He wanted to touch and explore and drive her as wild as she drove him, but she didn’t let him. Instead, she grasped his erection and guided it inside her.
He nearly came right then and there, just from the feel of her wet heat surrounding him and her sighs of pleasure filling his ears.
She moaned. He barely heard it, his blood drumming too loudly in his head. She was so slick, tight, eager. She was exactly what he needed. She wasallhe needed. Swallowing hard, he cupped the soft flesh of her bottom with his hands and lifted her hips, thrusting deeper into her.
Then he withdrew, slightly, aching to go slow but at the same time knowing he was fighting a losing battle. His skin was on fire, his body taut with the desperate need to let go.
“Sam,” he started, wanting to apologize, wanting to slow the climax building in his groin. He never got to finish that sentenceas he heard her sexy cry, felt her body clench and watched her come apart in his arms.
It was the most incredible sight he’d ever witnessed. The erotic glaze of her eyes, the way she bit down on her bottom lip, her flushed cheeks. She looked wild and wanton and so unbelievably satisfied he felt himself topple right over the edge after her.
With a cry of his own, he let himself go. Succumbed to the intense wave of pleasure that coursed through him, white-hot pleasure as powerful as a category-five hurricane.
He held her tightly, breathing in her intoxicating feminine scent, wanting the moment to last forever.
Forever.
His pleasure wavered at the word. Because forever wasn’t an option, was it? The life she’d described to him, the one she wanted to lead when all this was over, was so colossally different from the one he lived. He chased sadistic killers for a living, made himself and those around him a target each time he investigated a new serial homicide.
His heart began to pound. Sam didn’t deserve to be surrounded by danger. She was only now starting to put her pain behind her, to gather the shattered pieces of her life. How could he ever ask her to live with the constant threats, the knowledge that the man in her bed might get shot down by a psychopath every time he left the house to do his job?
But dammit, he was tempted to open his heart and his life to her. Once upon a time he’d wanted the same things she did. He and Kate had been engaged and planning their future, and in one split second Kate was gone and a wall had formed around his heart. The wall that Samantha had somehow penetrated.
Christ, whenever she looked at him with those gorgeous silver eyes, whenever her full lips curved into a smile, he was ready to hand his heart to her on a platter. If it weren’t so damndisturbing, he would have laughed out loud at the revelation that this curvy model scared him more than any serial killer ever could.
She shifted beneath him, her warm breath tickling his chin.
“You won’t be here when this is all over, will you?” she whispered.
