Page 20 of Touch of Innocence
“I’m fine. I know what I’m doing,” Sam said stubbornly, just as there was once more an ominouscreaaaakwhich came not from the car itself, this time, but from the jack which was holding the car safely above Sam’s prone body.
“Sam!”
The cry came just a split second after that creak, and then the jack started to fail. To Sam, it seemed like time slowed down to a crawl, but so, too, did the movements of his own terrified body. In that same slow motion, the jack buckled and the car slid down smoothly and easily toward Sam.
At the same time, the car was coming apart, or so it seemed to Sam. The abused underside came loose, and Sam struggled to roll himself out from under it, but all of the strength seemed to have left his muscles, robbed from him, perhaps, by his rapid, panicky breath.
The world blurred sickeningly around him, and for a moment, he was sure that he was dead. A huge chunk of metal was going to land on his head and torso, pinning him there, and there was fuel, oil, flammable material, everywhere. Just when he had accepted this and was sure that there was nothing that he could do to prevent it, he found himself drawing in clean, fresh air, his body crushed onto the wheeled dolly not by cold, tortured metal but by a body that smelled of masculine musk and safety and sweat.
Gunner. It was Gunner, who had pulled him out, Gunner who was hovered over him almost protectively, shielding Sam’s body with his own even though the danger had passed. There was a dull, metallicthunkwhich filled the whole work area as the car behind them failed, the undercarriage falling roughly to the ground like so much scrap metal.
In complete awe and wonder, Sam stared up at the big, strong, muscular man on top of him. The man who had saved him from being squashed like a bug under the car. The man who was still on top of him, the man who had really no reason to do what he’d done, and yet, he had.
Sam had been a prick to Gunner. No one had to tell him that because he had done it on purpose. So there was only one question to ask, one question right at the foremost of this mind, on the tip of his tongue.
“Why?”
Gunner growled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest, which was still pressed so close to Sam’s. Gunner’s hands were all over him, patting at his waist, his hips, stroking over his sides and shoulders, as if to verify that Sam was really okay.
“What do you mean, why? I wasn’t going to let you …”
All of a sudden, it was just too much. Sam, overwhelmed by the warmth which he could feel radiating through him, a heat that came not from his cock and balls, which he was becoming almost used to when it came to Gunner, but one that came from his heart.
Gunner had saved him. With everything between them, it had still happened, and Sam, before Gunner could say another word, wrapped his arms around the bigger man and kissed him with a savagery that surprised even himself.
Gunner responded, opening his mouth, and Sam didn’t even really know what this was anymore. He knew that it did have to do with desire, with arousal, with how much he found himself wanting Gunner, but it was more than that, too. He wanted to prove to himself, to them both, that he was really alive, that he’d survived.
So he kissed Gunner, and this time, he knew that he wasn’t going to hold back. That this was going to happen, and that Gunner could have as much of Sam as he wanted.
