Dangerous Tease (The Layton Family 3)

Finally, she was free to do whatever she wanted. Her whole life was about to change. She'd had to go through hell first, but everything had fallen into place. It wasn't just the treasure though, she'd found something much more valuable and completely unexpected. Sam.

“Look, you found it. It's yours. Take it as a sign that your luck is about to change.” His stool screeched against the floor when he scooted back and stepped down. “Come on, there's something else I have to show you.”

“You wanted to show me your house?” Josie didn't know what she'd been expecting, but parking in front of Sam's one-story house sure wasn't it.

He laughed, the honeyed sound warming her from the inside out. His fingers held hers as they walked hand-in-hand to the front door. “Close your eyes.”

The words tickled her ear and when she closed her eyes, all she could picture was her tongue flicking across his peach nipple. In response, her own nubs hardened against the smooth silk of her leopard-print bra.

“We're going to have to revisit this position.” Sam pressed against her back, his rigid cock nestling in the crack of her ass. “I like making you guess what's going to happen next.”

Sam reached past her and the click of the doorknob reached her sensitive ears. He eased her forward into the living room. Inside, he drew his lips down the side of her neck, ending with a gentle nip at her collarbone. “Take a look and tell me what you think.”

Gone were the eggshell-white walls and bland window blinds. In their place were bright, pale lapis-blue walls and soft gray curtains. Her bottom lip shook and her heart went into overdrive. “This is the equivalent of some people going out and getting a full body tattoo.”

“Yeah, I think I threw poor Ned at the hardware store into shock when I asked for a gallon of something besides white or cream.”

“I can imagine that. But why did you do it?”

He took her face between his large palms, burying his fingers in her hair. “Because I've always been horrible at saying what I feel. In my defense, I've never had much to say about my emotions one way or another. With you, there's so much I want to say, but I just can't put it into words.”

“You did just fine at the hospital.”

He shook his head. “The exception that proves the rule.” He paused, his gaze focusing on the painting of McPherson's Bluff above the couch as if he could find what he wanted to say hidden in the brush strokes. Expelling a deep breath, he turned his attention on her. “I'm not very good at saying how I feel about you, Josie, but I promise I'll always show you.”

“I'll show you too.” There were a million things Josie wanted to talk about, but it was the time for action. She leaned into him and captured his mouth, her tongue demanding entrance, and all the fear, uncertainty and hunger of the past few weeks rushed to the forefront.

Her hands snaked around him, sneaking underneath his soft red sweater. A T-shirt tucked into his jeans blocked her from skin-to-skin contact and she wanted to shred the cotton to get at him, to touch and taste his warm skin. She yanked the shirt from his jeans, exposing a slim patch of bare skin along his lower back. Electricity sparked between them, traveling from her fingertips to her clit in a bolt of passion. Weaving her hand between the cotton and his skin, she pushed the material higher, but not enough.

Sam broke the kiss and pushed her back a few inches, pulling his shirt and sweater off. “Take your clothes off.”

The bass vibrations in his voice turned her belly into molten want. She smirked and trailed her fingers down the deep V of her emerald-green shirt. Enjoying the pained pleasure reflected in his hazel eyes, she inched her fingers over her right tit, lingering on her nipple, before heading south until she grasped the shirt's hem between two fingers.

“And what if I say no?”

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His Adam's apple bobbed at her question, but he met her challenging stare with one of his own. “Then I'll rip it off you.”

“That doesn't sound very professorial of you.”

“Right now I'm not teaching you anything, I figure that game will come later—unless you want me to get out my ruler.”

“Yes, sir.” She whipped the shirt off and stood before him in her bra and low-slung jeans. Again, she caressed her sensitive skin on the way back down to the button on her jeans and watched his cock jump underneath his zipper. “I think you like watching me touch myself.”

“God, yes.”

She flicked the button open. “I've spent so many nights since Vegas imagining it was your fingers sliding into my wet slit, making me come. Then when you finally did touch me again, that night after we danced at Robidoux Roadhouse, you were even better than my fantasies.”

Heat flushed his cheeks, deepening the pink of the new scar on his cheek, and he took a step forward. He grasped her waistband and yanked her to him.

Automatically, her hands went to his shoulders for balance. She skimmed her palms across his upper chest, his coarse hair rough against her delicate skin. Inhaling his musky scent, Josie tasted her way across his collarbone, ending with a nip on his pectoral muscle.

Sam's grip tightened on her jeans and he half moaned, half groaned her name. The sound only encouraged her to take it further and she scraped her nails across his shoulder blades, because making him lose some of that tightly guarded control turned her on. Rough and hard, he pulled her against his cock, rocking against her. Tension tightened in her belly as she met each stroke.

Fast as a whip, he turned her around and bent her over the back of the couch. Tall as she was, only the tips of her toes maintained contact with the floor.

“Are you sure you're up for this?” Sam pressed one hand between her shoulder blades, holding her in place with her ass in the air.