Private Paradise(32)

He let out a satisfied sigh and his hand stroked lazily down her back and hip, paused to give her butt a squeeze before trailing back up her to her shoulder, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Carla closed her eyes and took a deep breath, absorbing the scents of him, of her, of sex swimming around them in a delicious, musky cloud.

Tried not to think about how good it felt―not the sex―lying here in Sam's arms, the way she had that summer under the stars. He'd spend hours pleasuring her, then cuddle her close. He'd made her feel so warm, so safe. So cared for.

Right. Try to remember how well he cared for you before you get all mooney again.

Yet she couldn't make herself pull away from the strong, muscular arms, the huge hands that stroked her so tenderly for of their strength and size. You can handle this. You aren't a naïve teenager anymore whose out of control hormones fooled her into thinking she was in love. You can enjoy this for what it is, an orgy of pleasure that you'll both forget about when the craziness ends and things go back to normal.

“Do you have any idea how long I've waited for that?” Sam muttered against the top of her head.

Carla propped her arms on his chest so she could look at him. “Let me guess,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “About a week?”

She didn't realize her mistake in looking at him until it was too late. With his thick hair rumpled and mouth quirked in a sexy half smile, he was every inch the naughty bad boy who knew how to do things to her she'd never even dreamed of.

But it was the look in his electric blue eyes that made her feel like a fist was squeezing her chest. Glowing with the warmth of banked lust, but there was something else there too. Adoration. At least, that's what she'd mistaken it for all those years ago before she'd realized that someone who adored her would never have treated her the way he had.

Yet she couldn't make herself pull away as he reached his hand out to brush a lock of hair back over her shoulder. Mesmerized by the way he was looking at her, with what she could only call reverence in his eyes, like he was the luckiest man in the world to be with her right now. “Try about eleven years. I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped wanting you.”

Her stomach flipped at the thought of Sam spending the past eleven years thinking about her, kicking himself, as he'd said before, for how he'd pushed her away.

Oh, Sam, you're good. I thought you were a master before, but now you've moved into champion player territory. She pushed herself off his chest and reached for her robe. “If that's the case it's only because I was the only girl who ever refused to actually fuck you.”

He caught her hand and tumbled her back onto the bed before she could pull the robe around herself. “That's not it. Besides,” he said, his eyes crinkling wickedly, “you got me off enough times it didn't matter if you fucked me or not.”

“Yeah, you were pretty clear about how satisfied you were with that,” Carla said tightly, her whole body going cold at the memory of his cruel assessment. She wanted to kick herself for being so weak, for letting the memory cut so deep after so long.

“Carla.” His voice was tight and when she looked at his face she saw that it had gone pale. Almost as though his pain mirrored hers.

No sympathy for the devil, she scolded herself and tried to jerk out of his hold but Sam was having none of it. He grabbed her shoulders and rolled her to her back, pinning her to the mattress as he settled his weight over her.

A gust of wind shook the villa. Carla heard a shattering sound as tiles from the roof were ripped off and shattered on the ground. The lamp burning on the bedside flickered and went out as the storm took out the electricity.

Sam continued like nothing had happened. “We need to get something straight,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I said horrible things to you, hurt you in ways that I will regret for the rest of my life. I would never ask you to forgive me because I sure as hell don't deserve it, but you need to understand the truth. There was nothing―and I mean nothing―I didn't love about being with you.”





Chapter 8





Carla's breath caught at his words, the look on his face. Though the light was out, she could make out his face in the gray light leaking in through the shutters, his gaze steady, unwavering as though willing her to believe in him. Oh, God, it would be so easy to fall for him again, even knowing he didn't mean a word of it.

“It doesn't matter,” she whispered. “That was a long time ago and has nothing to do with what's happening now.”

Sam settled his weight more firmly against her until his chest brushed hers and she could feel the heavy weight of his cock hardening against her inner thigh. “What is happening, exactly?”