Dangerous Tease (The Layton Family 3)

The gimlets couldn't take credit for the firestorm of sensation. It was all Sam. His deliberate pace became blissful torture. She pressed his large hand against her overheated skin.

His fingers dipped under her V-neck, resting on the uppermost swell of her tits, but didn't move; their stillness more erotic than if he'd reached farther down to caress her straining nipples.

Sam swung her up in his arms as if she were a tiny, delicate thing. Hardly anyone challenged her dominant, bitch-please attitude, but he marched across the room with her as if he had every right and tossed her onto the bed. The change was freeing. She sank back into the soft, thick comforter, ready and ravenous for him. All of him.

He stood by the side of the king-size bed, watching her with a hungry look that emphasized the tiger-gold of his eyes. His long, strong lines tempted her to grab a pencil and make a quick sketch of a man starving for something more. Something hard and rough. But the throbbing between her legs overruled her artistic instinct. Later, she'd paint him half-dressed and hard. Everywhere.

He made quick work of the buttons on his conservative pale-blue shirt, revealing a sprinkling of brown hair tinged with dawn's orange. Her gaze traveled down to his cock pushing against its denim prison. Time for a jailbreak.

She rose to her knees and reached for his jeans, her tongue tasting the indent above his hipbone. If her history professors had looked like him in college, she would never have skipped class. Her fingers, clumsy with lust, fumbled with the stiff button while her mouth explored the hard plane of his stomach. Despite spending the past few hours in the Paris Casino's smoky bar, he smelled of warm leather, cinnamon and something she couldn't place at first.

It hit her at the same moment she wriggled his button through the hole—a new book, cracked open for the first time.

Holding her breath, she lowered his zipper at a turtle's pace, wanting to draw out the anticipation as he'd done for her, to take him to the same nearly delirious plane. The end result did not disappoint. Thick, hard and heavy, his dick was a woman's fantasy cock. She wrapped her fingers around his girth and lowered her head to lick the salty pre-cum from its tip.

Sam's fingers threaded through her hair. “If you do any more of that, I won't be able to control myself.”

She stroked him, enjoying its iron smoothness. “Control is highly overrated.”

He groaned and slid her up his hard body, until they were face-to-face. There was nothing sweet or soft about his kiss. Hard and demanding, it shot flames of need through her body. Her clit ached to be touched. She couldn't wait any longer.

Josie broke the kiss long enough to pull her T-shirt over her head and drop it to the floor, then sought his lips again. The air crackled around them with anticipation and something more—a yearning she hadn't experienced before.

They tumbled onto the bed. He swept one arm outward, shoving the overabundance of pillows to the floor. There were no words. Hands moved everywhere. Touching. Stroking. Squeezing. Tension in her stomach pulled tighter. Clothes disappeared, replaced by a condom that for all Josie knew had appeared out of thin air.

Her nipples hardened under his tongue. She writhed on the bed. His fingers traced lines down her sides, stopping at her hips and leaving a trail of fire on her damp skin. She wrapped her legs around his waist, twining her ankles at the small of his back, her heels pressing him forward.

“Fuck me, Sam, I can't wait.”

He growled in answer, a mix of triumph and relief that put her on the edge of coming undone. His buttoned-up exterior hid something wild, and she loved being the one to set it free. That they could both find a kind of escape tangled in the crisp white sheets of a hotel bed made the night even better.

Sam pressed his face into the curve where her shoulder met her neck. His teeth nipped at the tender skin and he slid into her wet pussy in one deep thrust. Pleasure ricocheted through her body. Her back arched like a bow. Their fingers intertwined, staying bound together even as their bodies separated and joined at an ever-quickening pace.

With a quick twist, she flipped him onto his back and rode him until her thighs burned. Sweat slicked, she bent backwards and grabbed her ankles, the angle allowing him to slide deeper, as if he’d always belonged embedded inside her.

Her climax started like an electric ball of energy in her lower back, enlarging in waves until her entire body buzzed. Sam groaned as he withdrew and entered, going deeper than before. The charged sphere snapped, her orgasm exploding like a lightning bolt with his body stiffening a moment later.

They collapsed next to each other, his arm draped across the curve of her waist. Eyes closed in a sublime state of relaxation, Josie promised herself she'd sneak off as soon as Sam's breath steadied with sleep. She'd just close her eyes for a minute.

Sam shifted beside her, bringing the fluffy comforter down over the two of them and securing her closer against his side. A weak SOS signaled from deep within, prodding her to stick to standard operating procedure, but she squeezed her eyes shut against it. The bed was too comfortable, the moment too easy and the man too perfect of a fit.

However, the more she ignored that inner voice, the louder it became, until it blared like a foghorn. Prodded by the self-preservation habits made over the past decade, Josie unwrapped herself from their warm cocoon and sat up.

“Don't go.” His fingers stretched across her taut thigh.

“I have to.”

Josie glanced over her shoulder at Sam, who had turned on his side to watch her. The fast flutter in her chest confirmed that somewhere between the bar and the bed, this had moved beyond the usual fuck-'em-and-leave-'em routine into something more interesting.

“Do you want to go?”

“No.” The word escaped before she could come up with one of her usual cover stories about an early work shift or her nonexistent dog that had to be walked because, for once, no was the truth.

“Then stay.”

His plea hung in the air until she relaxed back onto the bed.

Sam traced the tattooed vines winding across Josie's shoulders and followed a