Part 22 (2/2)

She backed him against the opposite wall by wrapping her arms around his thighs and giving him a nudging. And then she took in the brilliance of his beauty-his jeans around his ankles, his boots still on his feet. The hot sight of his desire made her quiver, and the deep ache he'd created at her very core began once again.

Sam's hand immediately went to her head, threading his fingers through her wet hair, letting his head fall back on his shoulders.

And then she was enveloping him, taking a long drag on his c.o.c.k, running her tongue along his thick hard shaft, s.h.i.+vering when his husky moan settled in her ears. Trembling fingers engulfed his engorged flesh as she drove down on him, twisting her hands to slide up and down and follow the path her tongue had taken.

Sam's hips jutted forward with a hard jolt. He drove his c.o.c.k into her mouth, tangling his fingers in her hair, grinding against the press of her tongue before he pushed her away with a grunt.

His hands grabbed at her shoulders and dragged her up along his hard frame so that she felt every inch of his cool flesh along the way. Her nipples tightened to sharp points, sc.r.a.ping against his chest with delicious friction. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s ached for his tongue to swirl the heated tips.

As though Sam could read her mind, he hauled her upward until their noses touched, slipping his tongue into her mouth for one more taste. Their eyes connected in a hot gaze and lingered for a moment, and then he was setting her on the edge of the sink's vanity, sliding his mouth along her neck until he made his way to her breast and found a nipple, swirling his hot tongue over it.

Phoebe bucked forward, wrapping her arms around his head, reveling in the molten achy heat between her legs.

Sam used forceful hands to spread her thighs, driving them apart before slipping his fingers into her wet folds and entering her.

Colors flashed before her eyes upon the impact, impact she couldn't get enough of. She lifted her hips to rock against him, sliding her a.s.s to the edge of the counter so he'd go deeper while his tongue lashed her nipples. The heel of his hand rubbed against her swollen c.l.i.t, making her head thrash and a harsh sound slip from her throat.

Just as that spiral of white-hot heat began to reach its peak, driving her sensitive nerves to a frenzied need for o.r.g.a.s.m, he left her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and kissed his way down to the tops of her thighs before removing his finger.

Phoebe whimpered her discontent, but when Sam laid his head on her thigh, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around her waist, she realized, this brief flicker of seconds ticking away was meaningful.

When Sam spoke the words that gave definition to the moment, Phoebe Reynolds fell in love.

For the very first time.

”If you'd been hurt ...” he mumbled, vulnerable and harsh in one bold statement.

She ran her hands over his hair in understanding, trembling and just as vulnerable as he was.

But Sam didn't linger. It was as if he needed to touch her continually to rea.s.sure himself she was really all right. His head dipped between her legs and his tongue was on her with rapid speed, licking, sucking, devouring every inch of her exposed flesh until she did exactly what she'd dared him to do just last night.

She screamed.

At the exquisite pleasure his tongue swirling over her c.l.i.t in slow strokes created.

At the bone-deep need only Sam had ever evoked in her.

At the way he loved every inch of her flesh with such powerfully desperate need.

Her back arched as her hips bucked upward, driving against Sam's face until the sweet-sharp release eased.

Yet, just when the tension had begun to ease in her body, Sam scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and sitting on the counter.

He sat her on top of his c.o.c.k, and with one swift upward thrust so forceful her body jolted, he entered her, making her cling to his neck. Hands at her waist, Sam drove upward harder still, stretching her, filling her, and leaving behind an ache that would have been painful if not for the heat.

That d.a.m.n wave of molten lava was.h.i.+ng over her, making her want to scream, it was too much yet not enough. The swell of him inside her consumed her, drove her to a mindless pleasure she would never be able to describe.

Phoebe made herself memorize every inch of his hard back, her hands roaming freely over it as the tension between them built. She explored his arms, clenching and unclenching her fingers to revel in the ridges of his flesh.

Sam's hand explored, too, cupping her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, tweaking her nipples, gripping her hips hard until he sensed she was at her breaking point.

Relief was but a hard stroke away, yet Sam teased until Phoebe felt the ripple of his muscles, the tightly coiled flex of his tendons.

The moment between them suspended for mere seconds, and then she was falling, driving downward on his delicious, rigid c.o.c.k until her teeth clenched and nothing else but release mattered.

They came together, hard, hot, greedy with pleasure. They took from each other. They gave to each other in a split second of spiraling relief.

Phoebe was the first to cave, sinking into the hard shelter of Sam's chest and pressing her cheek to his.

He reached up and bracketed her face, kissing her closed eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose.

”Yay again for vampire s.e.x, huh?”

His chuckle rumbled in the bathroom. ”Yay again.”

Lifting her head, Phoebe gazed into Sam's dark eyes so full of so many things she wasn't quite sure she could read them all. ”Are you okay?”

Rising with her still around his waist, Sam made his way into the bedroom and set her on the bed. He plopped down next to her, dragging his soggy boots off and kicking his wet jeans to the floor.

He pulled her to him, running his hands along the s.p.a.ce where her waist met her hips. ”That's my question you're stealing there. But it's one I'm too afraid to ask you because after what Wanda told me ... Well, I only experienced it secondhand, and even I'm not okay.”

Her lower lip trembled when she let her head fall to his shoulder. The deep, gut-wrenching anguish she felt over transporting out of there before she'd been able to help that poor soul began anew. ”We have to go back. We have to help that man. I won't ever sleep again if we don't help ... Oh, G.o.d ... what they were doing to him. It was ...” She fisted her hands together to keep them from trembling. ”I don't even know who he is, but he's being tortured and I don't even think he realizes it, Sam. I don't know if he has Alzheimer's but if he does, he must be so far gone, he doesn't know what's happening to him. They were laughing, those vile pigs. Laughing and chatting with him like everything was d.a.m.n well normal. Like throwing your guinea pig a social interaction bone is all part of the job. He was split wide open, Sam ...” She squeaked his name, then pressed her fingers to her eyes to wash away the unG.o.dly images.

Sam tucked her head under his chin. ”I heard, honey.”

Phoebe's voice cracked when she said, ”But I've got to get him out. I won't be able to bear it if we don't. I'm not even one hundred percent sure where he is, but we have to find him.”

”I've got someone on it.”

Her head shot up. ”Say again?”

”I said, I've taken care of it.”

Phoebe paused with a frown. Took care of what? ”You did what? How can you take care of this man's fate?”

Sam set her away from him. ”How about we talk about this tomorrow?”

Phoebe watched Sam's eyes evade hers, then return to her face. ”Uh, no. Yeah, yeah. I've been traumatized and you don't want to push poor, scarred-for-life Phoebe over the edge, but now I want to know what you mean by, you've got someone on it. Who could you, the bug guy, have on something like this, King of the Geeks? Mothra? The Fly?”

”About that ...” Sam took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers.

Phoebe's antenna was on red alert. The intonation of his last words implied guilt. She knew they did due to the fact that Archibald had told Wanda a little white lie about who'd eaten all of his angel food cake. He'd feigned no knowledge of the cake thievery and told Wanda to ask Darnell if he'd finished it.

That was because he didn't want her to beat him down about his very human cholesterol numbers and how high they were his last trip to the doctor. And when he'd fobbed the cake eating off on Darnell, Phoebe had heard the guilt in his words.

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