His bed. Had he really said his bed or was she hallucinating? “Will you be in it?” She felt hot, unbearably hot at the thought of sharing his bed. She had trouble swallowing.
“As long as you want me to.” His hand on her chin pulled her closer to his face. “Last time I kissed you, I forced myself on you. I don’t want this to be the case tonight. So I beg you, Delilah, please kiss me.”
As she brushed her lips against his, she could feel him inhale sharply. The instant her lips touched his, everything around her seemed to disappear and melt into the distance. She barely felt the movement of the car or the leather of the seats. His arms pulled her into a tight embrace, and his lips gave her all the attention she wanted, nibbling on hers and sucking on her as he hijacked her kiss. She felt his tongue slide gently over her lips, so tentative she thought he’d never invade her mouth with it, until he finally did, and did so with a masterful sweep. His tongue encircled hers, demanding she play with him, dance with him.
His kiss sent scorching hot flames through her body, so hot she thought she’d dissolve from the inside. The fire burned deep in her belly, sending warmth and moisture trickling from between her legs, pooling in her panties which would be soaked thoroughly within seconds. She was a quivering mess in his arms. She shivered violently at every passionate assault of his tongue on her mouth, unable to control her reaction to him. She hoped he wouldn’t notice how lost she was in his arms, how completely and utterly under his spell. Abruptly he pulled away.
“Are you okay?” Samson’s voice sounded concerned, but also breathless and rough.
“Please don’t stop,” she begged and pressed her mouth onto his. Without missing a beat, he continued where he’d left off.
His hand moved down to her lower back, shifting her and draping one of her legs over his thighs. He softly caressed her firm cheeks before moving down her thigh to the seam of her skirt. She felt how he stroked her naked skin and how his hand traveled upwards underneath her skirt. Higher, and higher still. His fingers reached the seam of her panties where they hesitated for a second, until she moaned almost inaudibly. As if he’d waited for her sign, he slipped his hand underneath the fabric, stroked her bare skin and squeezed her gently.
Delilah knew this man was a virtual stranger to her, and it wasn’t normal to allow him to touch her like this when she barely knew him, but she couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want to. His touch aroused her, and she hadn’t felt that aroused in a long time. She couldn’t deny her body the pleasure he was promising. As his hand slipped lower to search out the warmth and moisture which pooled between her legs she released another moan.
If he continued for much longer, she’d come in the car. She had to pull herself together, try to get some control over her body, but how could she? His hands promised pleasure she hadn’t felt in a long time, and her body’s response was automatic and uncontrollable. Even if she had wanted to resist him, she wouldn’t have found the strength. Why did she allow him to touch her so intimately?
Another sigh escaped her mouth just as he separated his lips from hers.
“We’re here.” His voice was as breathless as she felt, and his eyes were dark when she looked into them, almost as if his pupils were fully dilated. The hazel color was completely gone.
She looked around. Carl held the car door open. She hadn’t noticed that they had stopped or that anybody had opened the door. She had completely and utterly lost all of her senses with just one kiss.
SIX
Carl stood waiting patiently while Samson took out a pad of plain paper from the antique bureau in the living room and sat down. Delilah watched him as he started drawing an image on the paper. His movements were swift. Within minutes, the picture of a man leapt off the page. Samson raised the sheet for her to see.
“Is this close enough?”
She couldn’t believe her eyes! The drawing showed the spitting image of the criminal who’d attacked them. In addition to the face of the man, Samson had drawn the image of the tattoo: two circles with a cross in the middle. “It’s as if you’d taken a picture. How did you do that?”
“Photographic memory,” Samson explained and handed the paper to Carl. “Fax this over to Ricky. He’s waiting for it. And then …” He looked at her. “Carl can pack up some of your things and bring them here if you tell him what you need for the next few nights.”
Next few nights? She liked the sound of that. “That’d be great. Just bring everything.” Delilah fished for her key in her bag. When she glanced up, she looked into Samson’s face, frozen in apparent shock, eyes widened. His adam’s apple moved as he swallowed hard.