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ELEVEN
Scarlet couldn’t catch her breath. Nor did she relinquish her hold on Sam. She wanted him to stay right where he was, buried inside her, his hulking body covering hers.
God, that felt so wonderful!
She still quaked beneath him. Still rode the residual high of a powerful release. Still savored the scintillating sensation of him filling her.
Whether her heart rate would ever return to normal was debatable. Certainly not while she was around this man, she suspected. Or his stepbrother.
She could only imagine what it would have been like to be Misty Ferrera and Pembroke Peterson the night of the art theft. Those were two seriously lucky women.
So, too, had been Cassidy Harkins, she had no doubt. Even if Sam and Michael hadn’t both been involved with her, knowing what she knew of Sam, Scarlet was sure his fiancée had landed herself one hell of a man.
Said man was currently leaving feathery kisses along Scarlet’s throat when the back door swung open and Rudy yipped again.
Scarlet’s eyes flew open. Sam slowly lifted his head and gazed beyond the end table and the lamp sitting on it.
“Well, hello there, Jesse,” he said.
Jesse? Scarlet mouthed.
Sam grinned at her as he casually reached for the fur blanket on the back of the sofa and draped it over them.
He said to the intruder, who was obviously a friend, “You’re a bit earlier than I expected.”
“Your tire came in an hour ago. Thought I’d bring it out to you. Help you pull the dent while I’m here.”
“I appreciate that,” Sam said. “Meet the woman who needs that tire. Scarlet Drake. Scarlet, this is Jesse Wilks. From Lakeside.”
“Nice to meet you, Miss Drake.” She heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor and—wholly mortified because she was naked and lying beneath Sam—she thrust an arm over her head for Jesse to swoop in and give her hand a gentle shake. “Sorry for the interruption.”
“Nice to meet you as well, Jesse. And Scarlet’s fine.”
She didn’t dare look at him since he’d only see the horror on her face. Instead, she glared at Sam. Who chuckled.
He told her, “Darlin’, I’m gonna have to leave you for a few minutes so Jesse and I can fix up your SUV.”
“I’ll try to survive without you,” she caustically said.
Sam’s laugh was heartier this time. “Trust me, I have a preference of where I’d rather be. But Jesse did come all this way.”
“And I’ll be outside gettin’ the tire from my truck,” Jesse chimed in.
When the back door closed behind him, Scarlet narrowed her gaze on Sam. “Stop looking like the cat that ate the canary.”
He kissed her, then said, “Any man on the planet with air in his lungs would get a kick out of being walked in on when he had a woman as beautiful as you underneath him.”
“Save your flattery,” she told him in a dry tone. “I’m likely turning three shades of red.”
“And it’s damn pretty.” He kissed her forehead. Then hauled himself off of her, though he covered her back up with the blanket. “I won’t be long.”
Scarlet watched him scoop up his jeans and boots and strut bare-ass naked to the kitchen sink, where he washed his hands and then dressed. He ducked into the storage room for his T-shirt, put his jacket on, and shot her a brow-wagging look before walking out.
A long breath blew through her parted lips.
Sam Reed was sexy as hell.
And she was thoroughly captivated by him. So much so, it took several minutes for her to compose herself and toss off the blanket and retrieve her clothes.
