“Few pairs. Right.”
I followed into her bedroom, set her suitcase down at the foot of the king-size bed, and cursed the fact that I’d promised my mother I’d sleep at home. That mattress was going to swallow Sam’s tiny frame whole if I didn’t hold down one side. Stop making excuses and admit that you’d kill to sleep next to her.
I glanced around the room. It was a typical OBX rental, decorated in soft blues and whites. “And remind me why you had to have the room farthest away from everyone?” I asked, turning to see her open the wide French doors that led to a private balcony overlooking the Atlantic. The ocean breeze blew her hat toward the bed.
That impish grin made an appearance again. “It has the best view.”
She brushed her hair from her face as we stepped out onto the deck, easily fifty feet in the air. She didn’t look down, only rested her hands on the polished wood of the banister and looked out at the waves. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Yeah. Beautiful,” I said, my eyes locked to the delicate lines of her face.
Sam caught me staring and smiled, then trailed her fingers along the railing as she closed the distance between us. My hands cradled her head, and I brought my lips to hers, kissing her gently, trying to show her without words how much it meant to me that she was here. I struggled to keep myself in check. With Sam, one taste was never enough.
Our lips lingered a breath apart until she made the next move, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt and arching up on her tiptoes. Her curves crashed against me, and I took her mouth without hesitation, sweeping inside to taste her. She rubbed her tongue along mine. Damn. She felt so right in my arms.
Her whimper frayed what little restraint I had left, and the kiss spiraled as I sank deeper into her, losing myself along the way. I let go of her face, only to slide my hands up the backs of her thighs. Her skin was hot and softer than silk. “Samantha,” I whispered against her mouth.
“Touch me,” she pleaded. “Just…touch me, Grayson.”
We were crossing the line, and I couldn’t bring myself to give a fuck. I let her thighs slide through my hands until I palmed the perfect globes of her ass—holy shit—by her bare skin. My thumbs grazed upward, feeling the tiny, easily breakable straps of her thong, and I groaned as I lifted her higher against me so she could feel my raging hard-on against her stomach. She brushed her palms along my cheeks, trusting me to carry her full weight, and kissed me with abandon.
I lost my common sense to the feel of her under my hands, the sweet slide of her tongue with mine, the press of her breasts against my chest as she arched to get even closer. Blood pounded in my ears, keeping rhythm with the crashing waves beneath us. She wound one hand around the back of my neck, licked along my lips, and I sucked her tongue into my mouth. She stroked the roof of my mouth and ran the sensitive ridge behind my teeth. Fuck. Just like that.
Her sweet little moan snapped the last of my control. I pivoted her slight weight into a bridal carry and made my way to her bed, laying her in the center without so much as breaking our kiss.
Careful to keep my weight on my elbows, I licked and sucked my way down her neck, inhaling the scent of vanilla that was becoming home to me. I pressed my lips along her collarbone and nudged the spaghetti straps of her sundress down her arms.
My eyes locked onto hers as I pulled her dress down, looking for the slightest hint that she didn’t want this. Instead, she arched her back to make it easier and exposed the nude lace of her strapless bra. “Please?”
Damn. This gorgeous, brilliant woman was actually asking me to put my hands on her. My mouth watered as I tugged her bra down just enough for her breasts to spring free, and my breath caught. Everything about her, from her pebbled nipples to the way she filled my hands was perfect.
Her gasp filled the silence as I swirled my tongue around one nipple, her nails biting into my scalp as she held me to her. Make her do that again. Now. I switched breasts and repeated the treatment, savoring her reaction. “Oh my God, that feels incredible,” she whispered.
“You’re incredible,” I told her, blowing lightly across her wet skin. She jumped and I immediately warmed her again with my mouth. Her legs parted, and she brought her knees up, settling me right…fucking…there.
Damn. A couple tugs of fabric and I could be inside her. Just the thought had me painfully hard. I thrust my hips against her once, matching with a pull at her breast and she moaned. “Again.”
Yes, ma’am. This time the moan was torn from my throat. I felt her heat through my board shorts and counted to ten to keep control as I thrust against her in a gentle rhythm.
Then my thoughts ceased as she pulled me into her kiss. Nothing existed in the world outside Samantha and my craving to be absolutely everything she needed. One of her hands took mine and placed it on her thigh, then slid it up under her dress.
My fingers grazed the lacy scrap of underwear. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are.”
“I want you,” she said without embarrassment.
I plunged my tongue into her welcoming mouth, as I slipped my finger under the lace just grazing—
“Hey, you two! We’re going to be late!” Jagger’s voice echoed up the stairs through the open door.
“Damn it. Fucking Jagger. Fucking family dinner.” The only thing I fucking wanted was already under me.
I rested my forehead against hers and tried to calm my breathing, but she was looking up at me, those green eyes hazed with lust, and then she had the nerve to giggle.