Something Reckless(17)

I can’t make out anything in the darkness, so I click on the bedside lamp and find Sam in my bed, still dressed in his undershirt and dress pants. His hands are folded behind his head, his feet crossed at the ankles.

“I’m sorry you didn’t like what I had to say about your sister,” I say as I sit on the side of the bed.

He grunts. “We both know that’s not an apology.”

“I’m sorry I spoke poorly of your sister in front of you. That put you in an awkward position.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t cut his dick off when I found out he was sleeping with her,” he says.

“It’s not like he used her for sex and walked away. They’re a couple, and he loves her, even if their relationship is a little . . . dysfunctional.”

“There’s a code. Seducing my little sister was totally unacceptable.”

“Della’s my friend, but so is Connor. She’s a grown woman, and he’s a good guy. Seriously, if your sister was going to give it up to anyone, Connor’s a good choice.”

His jaw tightens, and when he raises his gaze to meet mine, I freeze. You said too much, Liz. But why should I care? It’s not like Sam wanted me, and Connor was . . . the sweetest guy I ever met. Maybe he still is.

“Why would you say that?” he asks softly.

“Because it’s true.” I shrug. “When you turned me down all those years ago, I was crushed. Connor cheered me up.”

“I fucking bet he did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know he’s wanted you since he met you at that party that night, and he was supposed to stay away from you.”

“Wait. What? You were telling your friends to stay away from me?”

“Just Connor. I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”

“You mean you didn’t like that he looked at me like I was a woman when you still wanted to see me as a child.”

“Sue me for being a decent guy.”

“You rejected me, and Connor was the one who talked me through it. Who’s the decent guy?”

“Did you sleep with him? Did you let him take care of your little virginity problem?”

“I—” I lift my palms. “Why are we talking about this? It was over four years ago.”

Some emotion I don’t recognize flashes in his eyes.

“I wanted you, Sam. Not some stand-in. You. And you broke my heart.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could take them back. I’ve just made myself too vulnerable to him. More vulnerable than I was when my hands were bound and I was at his mercy.

“I broke your heart?”

“Don’t worry about Della. Connor will take care of her.”

“You didn’t answer my question. You said I broke your heart.”

You don’t want me to answer your question. I stand and stare at my light pink wall. I should have kept my mouth shut. “I was young. Foolish. It’s not like I’ve been hung up on you all this time or something.” Much. Hell, who am I kidding? It’s very much like that.

“Rowdy.” The mattress shifts as he moves to sit next to me. “I told you I don’t do emotional strings.”

“And I told you that’s not what I’m looking for.”

He shakes his head. “I never wanted to hurt you.” He stalks toward me, and I stand frozen, waiting for him to decide what happens next.

The frustration in his eyes turns to heat then lust, and then something more dangerous. I stand still until he cups my face in his hands and lowers his mouth to mine.

Everything after that happens in a desperate rush. We shed our clothes, throwing them to the floor until we’re skin to skin. Sam presses me against the wall and hitches one of my legs around his hip.

“Condom,” I whisper.

“Done.”

I have no idea when during the frenzy of kissing and undressing he pulled on a condom, but I don’t care. His cock is between my legs, poised at my entrance, and I want him. Need him.

Almost in one fluid motion, he pulls up my other leg and drives into me. He’s big—almost too big—and my body tightens in protest, but when he tries to withdraw, tries to give me a moment to adjust, I claw at his back to hold him close. And then he thrusts, in and out, and I have to bite back a cry every time he sinks deep.

“Don’t do that,” he says in my ear. “Don’t hold back.”

“But Connor—”

“Let him hear. I want him to know that you’re mine.”

I love that. You’re mine.

“For tonight,” he says. “Just for tonight.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, denying the hurt that wants to flood me at those words. And before I can think about it too much, before I can dwell on any disappointment or hurt I feel, he’s sliding a hand between our bodies and finding my clit, stroking as he pounds into me.