Page 93 of Sing it, Sam

“For getting me out. The breeze on my skin, fresh air in my lungs, the water—oh my god, the water, and you? Everything’s been so perfect.” Sam squeezes his eyes shut and draws in a noisy breath. When he opens them, they’re filled with concern. His fingers dig into the meaty part of my hips.

“But? I’m sensing a but, here,” I say, breaking the heavy silence.

“I gonna miss this. Miss you,” he says in a quiet voice and turns his head.

My heart pumps harder in my chest, as Sam focuses on the trees beside him.

I stroke his upper arms with my fingertips. His gaze returns to me. “I’ll miss you too, Sam.” I struggle with what to say next. This distance is going to be tough.

Sam sighs and reaches up to run his thumb along my jaw. “I mean, let’s face it. You’re set up in Willow Creek. I’m moving three hours away. I’m still recovering.”

“Sam,” I bark. “Yes, I’m set up in Willow Creek.Yes, you’re moving three hours away, but I have this thing called a motor vehicle that goes places andyes, you big dummy. You’re still recovering, and you’re doing amazing.”

He pulls his hand back and chews at his thumbnail. “I don’t know what the next month looks like, let alone the next year.”

I unwrap the damp towel from my body and dump it beside us. “Neither do I,” I say in a teasing tone, leaning closer. “What I do know is that you and I are sitting pretty by the water and I’m in no rush to get back to—”

Sam’s lips smash into mine before I get a chance to finish. I slide down his body as he teases me with his tongue, stealing my breath in the process. I scoop my arms around his shoulders and draw him close. We lie side by side. Sam worms his way deeper into my heart with each kiss, each touch. His hand tugs at the hair at the nape of my neck. Sam rolls into me and presses his hardness against my hip.

My mouth waters at the thought of him naked, of us bared to each other. I throw my leg over him, desperate to get closer. I’ve never wanted somebody so bad.

I tug at the waistband of his shorts. For a split second, I worry that someone might catch us in the act, but that concern quickly leaves my thoughts.

“Jane,” Sam growls against my mouth.

I moan back in response, sliding my tongue against his. I smooth my palm down the front of his shorts. He fills my hand and then some. He’s rock solid.

The thought of giving Sam pleasure drives my own excitement. I glide my hand up and down his length, taking my time with each stroke. The thin fabric does little to hide his shape, and how hard he is. Sam’s body quivers. I tug at his shorts to pull them down.

Sam jerks his hand to stop me. He pulls his lips from mine and snorts out a breath through his nose. “Janie,” he whispers.

“What’s wrong?”

Sam rolls onto his back and looks up through the sheoak branches.

I blink repeatedly, looking up to the sky which holds his focus, then down to his tented shorts, and back to his flushed face.

I place my hand on his labouring chest. “Sam?” I squeak. I fail to get his attention, so I kneel beside him and sit back on my heels.

He glances up through his long lashes, opens his mouth, and then closes it again. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says after a pause. He slides his hands either side of my hips. “Because believe me, Janie girl, there’s nothing I want more.”

“I get it. It’s okay,” I say on an exhale.I don’t get it. I want you. I want you now.

“In my head we’ve been together a hundred times over, but the reality is, my body … it’s …” Sam lets out a mammoth sigh. Emotions swirl in his tortured gaze as the muscles in his jaw tick.

I took it too far. I should’ve let Sam set the pace.But I couldn’t stop myself.

“Like I said. It’s okay,” I assure him.

Perhaps I should try and lighten the mood. I don’t want him to beat himself up about this. Besides, I was probably jumping the gun thinking he’d be ready.

I lie down on my stomach beside him and nudge his chest with my shoulder. “You good?”

The tension in his jaw fades.

As the smile on my lips grows, the apples of my cheeks rise higher into my vision.

“What?” he blurts out.

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