The Break-Up Psychic (13 page)

Hell no, I’m not sure, but I can always blame it on the whiskey. I offer Sam a smile I hope is as alluring as the one I envision Clara giving out to her lovers, and he smiles back at me. I hop on the bike behind him and don’t bother to tuck the folds of my dress beneath my thighs. If the rest of the night goes according to plan, my shoes won’t be the only article of clothing I’ll be losing.

The ride to Sam’s place is fast.
Starship Enterprise
fast. I can’t stop my mind from undressing him, imagining what he’ll look like under the creamy leather of his biker’s jacket. Sam glides the bike onto his driveway and jumps off the moment the kickstand meets pavement. He pulls off his helmet before turning to help me unfasten mine. As soon as I’m free of it, he reclaims my mouth in a bruising kiss.

“That was the longest damn ride I’ve ever taken,” he says against my mouth. He tears himself away from me and pulls me along behind him toward his front door.

I wait as he uses his free hand to fish a key from his pocket and maneuver it into the lock. Before the door’s even open, he turns around and pulls me solidly against him, reluctant to go too long without feeling my lips pressed against his. We stumble through the doorway and he finally releases me, divesting himself of his jacket as I turn to take stock of his house. It’s a true reflection of him. The furniture is made of solid wood and supple leather. Frames hanging on the wall display pictures of Sam as a young boy, Sam with his family, and Sam with his friends.

He offers his hand to me, inviting me to come with him, to trust him, and I hesitate only a moment before taking it. He leads me down a short hallway and into his bedroom. His bed is made, which I admit surprises me a little. But there’s not much about Sam that hasn’t surprised me these last few weeks.

Sam drops my hand and places his hands on my hips, turning me toward him. His lips find mine again and he kisses me gently, his tongue brushing against my mouth. He pulls his head away and keeps his eyes on me as he walks us backward. His hands remain steady at my waist, holding me close to him. The backs of my knees hit the bed and he bends down to kiss me slowly, soundly. After a minute I break the kiss and lower myself onto the mattress, scooting back to make room for him to join me.

Sam bends down, not taking his eyes off my body as he removes his shoes and socks before joining me on the bed. “Now we’re both shoeless,” he says, grinning at me.

I try to return his smile, but I’m nervous about the position I find myself in. What happens if tomorrow morning I wake up and find this was all a terrible mistake? As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve got feelings for Sam that go beyond flirtation. I like him, maybe more than like him. He’s not setting off my bells, but every lesson I’ve ever learned is telling me this could be a mistake. What am I willing to risk to see if he’s the one?

He leans into me, sweeping the pad of his thumb across my lips once again. We stare into one another’s eyes, and I know he can feel my hesitation.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says.

I swallow, unable to keep my gaze from dropping to his mouth. I wonder if I kiss him now, will he turn into a frog? I move forward and pull his bottom lip between mine, putting as much trust and hope as I dare into the kiss. Sam responds with vigor, pushing me back into the bed and caressing my tongue with his. I feel him shift position on the bed, then his lips leave me. He hovers above me, holding himself away from my body so he can look down on me. He spreads my hair across the pillow and reaches out to gently rub the strands between his fingers, allowing them to fall back to the bed. He stares intently at me, his eyes roaming my face but never settling on any one place for long.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

My tongue darts out to moisten my dry lips. His eyes follow the movement and he makes a deep guttural noise before lowering himself down to again claim my mouth. His kiss is soft at first, his lips gently pressing against and parting my own, but he becomes more insistent with each contact. I reach up and place my hands against his chest which is a now a mere inch from my own. I can feel the steadiness of his heart beating beneath his t-shirt and I’m comforted by the fact that, magic whiskey or not, his passion matches my own.

His mouth is slanted, his lips working both with and against mine. I deepen the kiss and our bodies finally make contact as he presses me into the mattress. A moan escapes my throat and I raise my head to push against him, frantic in my need to feel every part of him. I have to remind myself to breathe and gulp in much-needed air between feverish kisses. It seems so trivial to draw a breath when he’s kissing me with such abandon.

He removes his lips from mine and finds my earlobe instead. When his mouth moves away from my ear and instead gently nibbles at the sensitive spot below my jaw, I nearly buck him off, but his strong hands hold my writhing body firmly in place. His hand moves down to find the hem of my dress and his fingers slowly inch the fabric upwards as he trails kisses down my throat. I move urgently beneath him and when he places one strong thigh against my center, I feel his excitement through the thick fabric of his jeans.

“Good Lord almighty, girl. Your moving around is driving me crazy,” he says, kissing his way back up to my mouth.

I decide there’s way too much talking going on and thrust my tongue deeper into his mouth to shut him up. His right hand grabs a fistful of my dress and he firmly pulls the fabric up, exposing my simple cotton panties. I can feel him holding back, perhaps out of some misguided attempt at chivalry, so I roll my hips up and down, urging him to relieve me of this obstacle of a dress. He obliges me immediately and uses both hands to bring the dress up around my waist.

I work quickly at removing my belt as he rocks back to tear off his t-shirt. His chest is tan and sparsely covered in sandy hair that’s begging my fingers to run through it. He grabs me at the waist, pulling me up to straddle him. I lean my head back so he can lick, kiss and caress my throat as his hands unzip me. When he lifts the material away from my body, I obediently raise my arms and he pulls the dress from me, tossing it onto the floor. He lowers us back onto the bed, reclaiming my mouth. I wrap my legs around his waist and exhilarate in the feel of his erection pressed firmly against me.

Sam pulls his lips from mine and uses his free hand to cup one breast then the other. His eyes are trained on the white cotton bra I chose for my non-passionate date with Ellery. Had I known I would end up in Sam James’ bed tonight, I would‘ve gone with a more risqué undergarment choice. He pulls the fabric of my bra down, over my left breast. His hand cups me. My breasts are heavy with desire and he gently sweeps his rough fingers over my nipple, making it harden. I can’t help the mewing sounds that escape me when he lowers his head to attach his eager mouth to me. I run my fingers through his hair as he attacks and then soothes the nipple before he moves on to pay the same attention to my other breast.

Reaching behind me, he deftly unfastens my bra, exposing my chest to his heavy gaze. “I want you so much,” he says.

“Then don’t stop.”

I bring his face back to mine, his soft lips back to my swollen ones, and use some unknown strength within me to shift us onto his back. He rolls over easily, never removing his hands from my breasts, and allows me to remove his belt. I straddle his lap, his excitement hard beneath me, and lean down to take one of his nipples into my mouth. I suck, bite, and pull at him for just a few moments before he lets go of my breasts, places his hands on my hips, and urges me to grind against him.

The motion makes me lose focus and he takes the opportunity to roll us back over so that he’s once again on top. I look up at him through hazy, lust filled eyes.

“If you want me to stop, I need to know right now,” he says.

I know I shouldn’t be doing this. He’s sexy, dangerous and he’s probably had a hundred lovers. I might wake up tomorrow and discover I’m just another in a long line of broken hearts, but right now I just don’t care. At this moment the only thing I want is to feel him inside of me.

In response to his question I move one hand down, place it on his hard and rather impressive erection, and gave it a little squeeze. His eyes smolder at the touch and he grabs my wrists, pinning both hands over my head, kissing his way down my neck through the valley of my breasts. As he reaches the sensitive skin of my stomach, he releases my hands so he can push the white panties down my legs, discarding them off the side of the bed.

I’m completely exposed to him now. He reaches for my neck and, using one big hand flat and warm against my skin, he moves it down the length of my chest and torso until coming to rest at the apex of my thighs, the place I want his touch more than any other. I know I ought to feel embarrassed by the way he’s taking in the sight of my naked body, but the lust pooling in my belly won’t allow for it. When he uses that same big hand to open my thighs so he can cup me and feel the wetness that awaits him, I close my eyes and give in to a deep moan.

Sam’s hands are gentle but firm and he obviously knows what he’s doing, though I don’t want to think about how he learned. He rubs his fingers against me, driving me wild, before sliding two inside. I buck against the welcome intrusion. He works them in and out, stretching and preparing me as he kisses the base of my throat. Slowly his hand leaves me aching for his return, and he divests himself of his remaining clothing. I take in the sight of him greedily. His body is broad and his muscles are thick and strong. I allow my eyes to travel down to his erection and, although I was raised to not speak in such a way, I can’t help the “Holy shit” that escapes my mouth.

Sam smiles devilishly and moves over me, seating himself between my legs. He claims my mouth for a kiss that’s so achingly gentle, it leaves me feeling lightheaded and weak when he pulls away. The soft tear of foil reaches my ears and then he’s back, his warm hand guiding my calf around his waist as he moves to slide himself inside of me. I feel my wetness coating him, making the passage easier, as his girth fills me completely. Once he’s fully encased inside of me he stops to look down at me and ask, “You okay?”

“Yes.”

That word is all he needs. He begins moving his hips back and forth, his erection leaving then filling me, over and over again. I hook a leg around one of his and he lifts my other to wrap around his waist. Our kisses become more passionate, our breathing arduous and interrupted frequently by gasps from me and grunts from him. He uses one strong hand to angle my hips upward, causing his body to come into complete contact with my own. The position and movement of his hips has me throwing my head backward in ecstasy.

I’ve lost all sense of time. The feel of his body pressed against me, inside of me, is making it impossible to concentrate on anything. I command my eyes to remain open and look at him. He holds my stare, the small crease between his eyebrows the only sign of his intense concentration. His breathing becomes heavier as he increases the speed of his thrusting.

The quick regularity of his movements brings a wave of deep pleasure to my belly. My orgasm knocks the breath out of me, and I release the air I’ve been holding through a deep groan. I have to close my eyes against the feeling of the strong current tearing its way through me. I grab the tight muscles of his back as he helps me ride out the most powerful climax of my life. Sam’s movements become hurried and jerky. I tighten the muscles wrapped tightly around him and he grunts feverishly into my neck as he loses control, and erupts within me.

We lie sated and joined for a long moment before Sam pushes himself up to kiss my forehead. They’re not the same fevered, passion-filled kisses from foreplay, but soft, sweet kisses that give me goose-bumps and force a smile to my lips. He removes himself from me and rolls over onto his back, using his right arm to scoop me up and draw me next to him. I’m spent, unable to do anything besides drape a sweaty thigh over his leg and relax into him. The room is quiet and I shut my eyes to listen for any psychic alarm bells, but there aren’t any. All I hear is the steady rhythm of my heart beating wildly in my chest. The heart that I’ve vowed will never be broken again.

“Well, look what the cat drug in.” Luanne, hand on hip, saunters out of her kitchen wearing a grin that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous. “I can’t say I’m
not
surprised. Old Ellery didn’t look like he had it in him.”

I knew when Sam dropped me off at the apartment that Luanne was home, but I was still hopeful I could avoid her interrogation until after I’d had a chance to process what happened last night. How on earth did I go from moths to toe-sucking to dancing on a dirt floor to Sam James’ bed? It had to be the magic-whiskey.

“Was it kinky?” Luanne asks, grinning wildly.

“Depends. How kinky would you rate toe-sucking?” I move past her and into the bedroom to change for work.

“I’d say it’s about a five,” she says, her excited smile fading into a bemused grin.

“A five?” I raise my eyebrows at her, tossing last night’s dress onto the floor.

“Honey, if some guy getting ‘French’ with your big toe is higher than a five on your kinkiness scale, you need to get out more.”

I grab a pretty yellow blouse and a pair of jeans from the closet and move into the bathroom. I have to admit, I have great post-sex hair. It’s full and bouncy and I run my fingers through it, admiring the color, the gentle curls, the way it hides my hickey. My fingers fly to my neck and touch the slightly bruised skin just above the spot where neck meets collarbone. Sam must’ve gotten a bit carried away last night and given it to me. Hell, he could have given it to me this morning just as easily. Despite the high school situation I now find myself in, I can’t stop the smile from forming on my lips at the memory of Sam waking me up this morning. A little bruising seems a small price to pay for getting woken up by a very hot, very excited Sam James.