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“Poor Sam.” There was a definite lack of sympathy in her voice now. “Why don’t I go down on my knees and suck you dry again in recompense. Would that help?”

He narrowed his eyes. The memory of her on her knees, his cock pushing in her hot mouth, had his cock twitching in need.

“Would an apology help?” he asked her curiously.

“Would you mean it?” she asked him archly.

He sighed deeply as he moved closer, stopping at her shoulders then hunching down beside the lounger.

“Likely not.” He grinned as her eyes flashed with ire. “That was a damned pretty sight, Heather, and hot as hell. Watching your mouth move on me, driving me crazy.”

She snorted. “I’m sure it was, Sam. Too bad you don’t like returning the favor.”

His lips tightened as a grimace of regret flashed across his face.

“If I get my tongue inside you, my cock won’t be far behind it,” he warned her. “I want you too badly.”

“Really? Strange, I don’t feel so wanted, so I don’t think I’ll put myself out to believe it. Go see if you can convince Marly or Sarah. They might be willing to go along with your line of crap tonight.”

Sam winced. Hell, she was past mad.

“What do you want, Heather?” he asked her softly, regretfully. He understood why she was upset, knew he had pushed her when he shouldn’t have, knew his own demons were driving her away from him.

Her eyes widened with exaggerated surprise. “What makes you think I want anything? I was out here minding my own business. You’re the one intruding.”

The garden was dark, but the light of the full moon was enough to see the hard peaks of her breasts beneath her shirt. Her breathing was harder, and she appeared more than a little agitated as he raised his gaze slowly back to hers.

“I want you so bad I’m shaking with it.” He shook his head, more than a little amused at his own lack of control. “Surely that counts for something?”

She shrugged, watching him closely. “Not for much on this end, Sam,” she told him coolly. “Try me again tomorrow. Maybe I just need to think about it for a while.”

His eyes narrowed on her. She was provoking him and she damned well knew it. He looked at the lounger. The special build, like most everything in the August home, was wide and made for comfort. Before Heather could catch his intent, before he could give it much thought himself, he moved from his position quickly. Before she could do more than gasp, he had pinned her body to the thick pad, his elbows holding his weight from her chest, his legs parting hers as he settled quickly between them.

“How about I help you decide?” he bit out then and lowered his head.

Sam meant the kiss to be forceful. To show her, prove to her, his claim that he could only hurt both of them with his desire for her. But the moment his lips met the petal soft curves of hers, he hesitated. He held her still, his tongue stroking over the seam of her closed lips as he stared down at her opened eyes. He nudged at the soft curves with his own, stroked them with his tongue, fighting the compulsion to devour with greed as he savored the taste of her.

A small whimper of longing came from her as her eyelids lowered partially, sensually, a second before she parted her lips just enough to allow his tongue entrance. Sam couldn’t halt the groan that vibrated in his own chest. He couldn’t stop the need that burned in his loins like an inferno threatening to rage through his senses.

She was heat and soft, silky desire. Her lips opened to him with a hesitant wariness, much as she had with their first kiss. A tentative acceptance that had his body tightening with lust. His cock throbbed with imperative demand even as he fought its insistence.

“Heather.” He whispered her name as he sipped at her lips, then stroked inside her mouth once again.

His hands moved from hers as his need to touch her overcame his need to dominate her. Her skin was so soft, so silky and smooth. He wanted to feel it against his fingertips, luxuriate in her response to him. And she was responding.

Her thighs tightened on his. Her hips jerked against his, grinding her cunt against the length of his erection as his tongue stroked over hers, his lips sipping at her as he groaned at the erotic tastes he found there.

Before he ever realized his intention to do so, he had pulled her shirt from the waistband of her jeans, and his palm was sliding up her waist, his fingers trembling with the need to cup the swollen mound of her breast. Her nipples were hard; he knew they would be hot, knew she would cry out when he captured one between his thumb and forefinger.

Her nails bit at his skin through the fabric of his shirt as he rotated his hips firmly against her cunt. He could feel her heat through both pairs of jeans, and the need to sink inside her was nearly driving him insane.

“I could eat you up, right here,” he bit out as his lips moved to her throat, his hand cupping her breast as his fingers gripped her nipple, milking it and caressing the hard point as a strangled groan tore from her throat. “You make me lose all common sense when I’m around you, Heather.”

“What common sense?” Her voice was torn, ragged, as she arched into him, her neck tilting as his tongue raked over her collarbone.

Sam couldn’t help but smile. Her sharp tongue was lethal. But, he had his own weapons. He shifted back, exposing her breast further as he moved toward it, his mouth watering at the thought of the pleasure to come.

* * * * *

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