Saving Sam (The Wounded Warriors Book 1) (3 page)

“You've already said yes and no in the last two minutes,” he pointed out in his husky, passion-slurred voice. He pulled her closer to him and laid soft kisses along her neck below her ear, sending thrilling shivers through her. “What do you want, pretty Amy?”

She glanced at the peeling paint on her bedroom door. The answer to his question required no contemplation. “I wouldn't stop you.”

She felt him smile against her jaw as he worked his way to her earlobe. He suckled lightly. A whimper escaped her.
His desire is more potent than any wine… and the hangover is much more painful.
“Would it be you taking advantage of me again, or are your intentions different this time?” Her voice sounded thin and wispy.

Sam pulled away to look her in the eyes. “I have no further intentions than to lose myself in you tonight,” he said, his voice flat.

“Why?” Amy demanded, heart clenching at his brutal honesty.

“I'm too messed up to give you what you need. I'm only capable of taking.” The bleakness had spread from his eyes to his voice. It sounded like the echo over a vast chasm.

Desperate, her body and heart burning with conflicting desires, Amy tossed out another painful truth. “I don't care. I won't ask for anything. I can only give, at least where you're concerned.”
I would tear my heart to pieces for another moment in your arms.

They stared at each other in silence, each wanting to succumb to the carnal desires that inflamed inside them, but both knowing the guilt that would consume them in the morning if they did. This was the game they played; her wanting him while he was always on the prowl, unable to be the man she deserved, yet unwilling to let her go completely.

“Doesn't that work?” she asked quietly, glancing at her bedroom door with as she ached with longing.

The empty, soulless eyes flared briefly with sorrow. “No, and it shouldn't. Believe in yourself, Amy. Believe enough to say no… or yes, because it's what you want and not because you want to give me what I want.”

Without flinching, without retreating from the pain his agony chewed into her heart, she stared deeply into him and said, “You can't give me what I want.”

“Then tell me no,” he demanded softly.

“I can't,” she whispered truthfully, “but I'm not sure I can say yes either.”

Sam retreated from her brutal honesty, couching his next words in gently amused irony, but beneath his teasing tone, a hint of mirroring intensity began to trickle into his expression. A flash of hope flared deep in his eyes. “Then at least tell me this. Have you slept with anyone else since that night, or do you still belong only to me?”

“Don't ask stupid questions, Sam,” she snapped.

The comment was so harsh, so out of character that he blinked, startled by the verbal blow. “Amy?”

“Come on.” She pursed her lips. “I've known you my whole life and I can barely talk to you. Half the time we spend together we sit in silence, so how the hell do you think I could manage to hook up with someone else?”

* * *

Holy shit! How am I supposed to fight this, act like a gentleman, when she's offering that sweet body on a platter, no strings attached?

His conscience woke up and nagged, “If being a gentleman isn't enough motivation, how about not wanting to hurt the one person whose company soothes you?”

Amy nibbled one fingernail as she regarded him. He imagined her mouth on his lips, sliding down his chest, closing around his…

Sam's will broke and he smiled seductively as his smoldering eyes sought to melt her from the inside out. “Not all conversations require words.”

The quickening of her breath invigorated his hope, as did the visible wave of heat that flushed her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from desire. No matter what Amy said, her body betrayed what she really wanted to do. Shy or not, she was his and her body never failed to submit to its need of him.

“I remember… touching you,” he murmured as he began to trail kisses along her neck again, nestling against her. She made no move to resist. “It only took a few minutes, baby.”

Amy closed her eyes, and shivered. He could see her sliver of resistance collapsing. Her lips parted easily as he kissed her, penetrating her mouth with a sharp stab of his tongue. She groaned.

“Do you remember?” he urged. “Once I had your clothes off, you were purring and moaning just like anyone else. You weren't shy then, were you?”

Amy could only moan in response as he nibbled her lower lip. As it had been in the past, she was his and only his.
A good girl who only wants you should mean more than an easy lay.
And though he hesitated to admit it, there was more than lust in his urge to join their bodies again.
I need her too.
He continued seducing her with hot words and hotter memories. “When I was going down on you, when I was sliding up inside you,” he recalled, stoking her undeniable need by trailing his fingers over the heated skin of her throat. “You remember, baby. You remember how I made you scream!”

* * *

Sam's seduction, now that he had fully committed to it, proved too hot for Amy's comfort, especially when it was accompanied by his hand sliding between her thighs, caressing her in a tantalizing stroke. Her breath caught at the light touch, almost completely muted by her clothing. Her nerves fired wildly and she remembered those moments against her will, when he'd clumsily stripped her holiday dress from her slender body and laid his mouth… there. A swell of arousal sent her whole body pulsing. She strived for anger, to temper the temptation he presented, but she was almost too far gone to fight – almost!

“And then what happened, Sam?” Amy asked breathlessly, clawing her way back to awareness. “The next morning, when you woke up, hung over…”

It seemed her comment chilled his desire, as he hid his face against her chest. His hand, still resting against her mound, remained motionless. The devastating truth not only stifled their progress, but it effectively reduced their drive. The temporary cooling of their desires allowed them to pursue the conversation they so desperately needed to have. A conversation that was probably meant for another time and place, but was so over-due, it had become unavoidable.

“I was still lying beside you and you pretended not to remember how I had gotten there,” Amy reminded him. “There was blood on your sheets, and you didn't remember?”

He gave her a brief, sheepish look, but it appeared desire was still controlling him. His voice caressed her with an intimacy beyond the touch of hands. “I remembered, Amy, but I didn't know what to do about it.”

Sam looked at her, his eyes pleading with her, asking for so much more than just her understanding. He moved his hand from between her legs and began to run his fingers up and down the length of her arm. The movement tickled with sensations that touched Amy in places too deep for such an innocent caress. Again, she closed her eyes, but this time it was in an effort to contain her desires and not merely bask in his touch.

“I was leaving for the Air Force,” he explained. “It wouldn't have been fair… to have slept with you the right way, asked you to be my girlfriend… and then just left.” His fingers stroked her arm one last time. They trailed along until they reached her hand and he could lace his fingers through hers.

“I would have waited.” She squeezed his hand.

“I didn't want you to.”

The words stabbed like a knife in her belly. She bit her lip and forced painful words between her lips “I did anyway.”

“Why?”

She dropped his hand and cupped his face between her fingers. “Because there's never been anyone else, Sam. When you were a careless, lazy boy, I loved you. When you were an adorable, sloppy-haired mess of a teen, I loved you. When you were a selfish, thoughtless youth on the verge of manhood, I loved you.”

“And now?” His eyes pleaded, for what, she wasn't sure.

“Now I don't know you.” Amy sighed as she traced her finger over his eyebrows and added, “You're a hard-eyed soldier. You're gorgeous, I'll give you that - built, and beautiful, but different.”

“And?” Again, that pleading tone, but this time she knew what he wanted.

“And,” she complied, “I still love you.”

He pulled her close again. “Sweet Amy,” he rumbled, the evidence of his need straining against her leg, “say yes.”

The best she could offer was, “I won't say no.”

He lifted her easily, hardly needing to flex his muscles. She wrapped her legs around his waist, curling her arms around his neck, pressing her mouth down on his. Her living area was so little that he crossed it in two long-legged strides, to her bedroom door, and through, to the bed with its pink and blue flowered sheets, crumpled and unmade. It looked like someone had already made love on it.

“Sam?”

“Yes Amy?”

“Will you remember in the morning?”

“I'll remember,” he promised. “I remembered the last time too. I've never forgotten.”

His words thrilled her.
And it's that hope that has kept me going all this time.

He laid her carefully on the bed, and climbed on top of her, sliding his arms underneath her. She remembered that other time. It had been fast, hot and wild. It had been the quenching of a primal thirst. This time, he was cherishing her, luxuriating in their closeness and taking his time. This time it wasn't about carnal cravings, but something deeper.

It felt wonderful and satisfying. It had felt amazing the other time too, and she couldn't deny it. There just couldn't be anything unpleasant about sleeping with Sam Wallace, except perhaps the aftermath. But she wasn't going to think about that. And once his hands slid under her dress, lifting it over her head, she didn't think about anything anymore. She simply gave herself over to her body and to his.

Sam's eyes glowed as he looked down at her. A corresponding glow seemed to ignite in her core. He kissed her throat and just like that, her shyness melted. It was hard to feel insecure when Sam was looking at her with such admiration and appreciation.

“Tell me what you don't want, Amy,” Sam urged.

She caressed the roughness of his cheek. “I don't want you to leave, ever. I don't want you to go away from me. I don't want you to forget me.”

“I won't leave. I won't go away. And I've
never
forgotten.” He punctuated each phrase with a touch of his lips to her face. “You were always with me, baby. Thoughts of you are what carried me through.”

“They did?” she whispered in awe.

Sam ignored her question and asked one of his own instead. “What do you want, Amy?”

Undone by his tenderness, she poured out her deepest desire. “I want you, Sam. You're all I've ever wanted.”

“I'm here. Are you brave enough to reach for me?” he asked.

“Will you be there for me to take hold of?” she countered.

“Try it.”

Her arms wrapped around the solid muscles of his shoulders and broad back. She smiled at the pleasure of feeling his powerful body between her legs and wrapped in her arms. She looked at him, happiness exuding from every fiber of her being.

“See,” he hummed. “I'm here. You have me.”

He kissed her passionately, pressing her against the mattress with his muscular weight. She thrilled at the way his body felt as it melded into hers. Then he nibbled gently along her jaw and tickled her exposed shoulder with his masterful lips. She gasped.

“Tell me how you want this,” he demanded as he arched his hips a bit, letting her feel his thickness against her mound.

“It doesn't matter, as long as you're in my arms.”

His expression turned wry. “I'm such a mess. It's going to take time for me to be right for you, baby. I'm not there yet, but… this time I'm asking, can you wait for me? I'll come right to you when I'm ready, I promise.”

“No, Sam. I won't wait for you.”

One eyebrow quirked as his body tensed. “No?”

“I'll wait
with
you,” she replied.

He grinned as his body relaxed once again.

Amy beamed at him in return and said, “Don't you think… while you process what you've gone through, it might help to have someone who loves you nearby?”

“Are you saying you love me?” he teased with a knowing smile.

“You've always known the answer to that,” she retorted. “And didn't I just say so?”

“I like to hear it,” he rumbled with a devilish grin, and then Sam's smile faded, revealing a hint of something dark and excruciating, which he quickly suppressed.

“What is it?” Amy demanded, worried.

“I'm… damaged,” Sam whispered. “You'll never understand, you can't relate at all and I can't explain things to you. I wish I could, but…”

“I know that,” she said quickly. “I can't offer empathy because I have no idea of the things that haunt you. I know you don't want sympathy either, but what about company?”

“Company?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes, just company,” she replied. “You know, hugs and kisses… and more when you need it, until you're ready to move forward.”

“And you would believe it?” he asked, seemingly unconvinced. “You would believe that I was really going to get there someday?”

He knows me too well.
“It doesn't matter.”

“You sell yourself short, baby.” He said as he rolled over, pulling her along and easing her on top of him. He sat up, keeping her straddled over him as he hugged her tenderly. Then he looked pensive as he added, “Maybe helping you with your shyness and self-worth will help me.”

“What do you mean?”

He didn't answer, just opened her bra in one easy move and tossed it to the side of the bed. He cupped her breasts in his hands, giving her a seductive smile that drove all her concerns from her mind.

“I remember you liked this,” he told her and then he tugged her down so his mouth could take her erect nipple. He gently suckled it before catching it gingerly between his teeth, lashing it with his tongue. The stimulation sent heat shooting straight to her loins, flooding her with anticipation.

Nothing had changed. Within moments, Amy was panting pleasure. He moved to the other side, but his hand was still close enough to reach the first one easily, teasing the wet nub, pinching, and rolling it while he devoured the other side. His skills drew quick gasps of delight from her.