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“Sam!”
“Riley. Say it.”
“Sex! I want to have sex, because, well … because. Unless I’ve been lying for the past several years in my articles, it’s supposed to feel good. Great. Whatever.”
“Oh, it’s not whatever,” he said, his voice going low as his fingers tightened in her hair. “Not with me.”
“Yeah?” she asked, moving closer until her breast brushed against his chest. “Because all I’ve seen is a guy who chickened out the first time and freaked out the second time.”
“I’m not freaked out. But that was quite the bomb you just dropped on me. Here I was trying to figure out if I had any moves that you hadn’t already seen and analyzed, and now I find out you haven’t seen any. I don’t know which is more pressure.”
“So you’re still in?” she asked.
His hand slid from her hair to her face, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone, and she melted against him. “You going to write about this?”
She hesitated. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
She did need the story, but she needed Sam more.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, brushing his lips softly against hers. “It’ll depend.”
“On?”
“On whether I want to keep what’s about to happen between us all to myself.”
Chapter Fifteen
She’d kind of been hoping for something hot and heavy against the kitchen counter.
Something fast and furious where she wouldn’t be allowed to think.
But Sam refused to hurry. Even when her hands slipped beneath his shirt, fingers scraping over the contours of his abs, he never quickened the slow, seductive pace of his kisses.
He cupped her face, occasionally tilting her head one way or the other to allow his tongue better access to the sensitive parts of her mouth.
Riley had spent so many hours daydreaming about kissing Sam, she’d thought that if she ever had the chance, she’d never stop.
But kissing was no longer enough. She wanted more. Needed more.
And this is where her career came in handy.
Remembering a move that had gotten particularly rave reviews from commenters, Riley let her hands slide down to his butt as she lifted to her toes and put her lips to his ear.
“I want you inside me.”
The fingers that had been so gently cupping her cheeks tensed before he let out a terse “Christ.”
Then he was hauling her across the tiny apartment in the direction of the bedroom, and Riley allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction.
Maybe she could get by on book smarts after all.
Sam peeled his layered T-shirts over his head and dropped them to the floor.
Nope. Never mind.
The way her mind went fuzzy and her breasts went tingly was most definitely something best experienced in person.
“I’m scared to death,” she blurted out.
