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One dark eyebrow lifted. “You don’t want me to go, Lacy, and we both know it.”
Frowning, she stared at him. “Sometimes we want things that aren’t good for us.”
“Been reading Kristi’s self-help books?”
A brief smile curved her mouth and was gone again in an instant.
The wind whistled under the eaves and sounded like a breathless moan. The fire in the hearth jumped and hissed as that wind passed over the chimney and the golden light in the room swayed as if it was dancing.
“You left once. Why can’t you just stay away?” she whispered.
“Because I can’t get you out of my head.”
She looked at him. “Try harder.”
Sam laughed shortly, shook his head and moved toward her. “Won’t do any good. Been trying for two years.”
Those memories, images of her, were so ingrained inside him, Sam had about convinced himself that the reality of her couldn’t possibly be as good as he remembered. And maybe that’s why he was here now. To prove to himself, one way or another, what exactly it was that burned between him and Lacy.
“Sam...” She sighed and shook her head, as if denying what he was saying, what the two of them were feeling.
“Damn it Lacy, I want you. Never stopped wanting you.” He moved in close enough to touch her and then stopped. He took a breath, drawing her scent deep inside.
Silence crowded down around them, the only sound the hiss and crackle of the flames in the hearth. His heart pounding, Sam waited for what felt like an eternity, until she finally lifted her eyes to his and said simply, “Me, too.”
In a blink, Sam reached for her and she came into his arms as if they’d never been apart. He fisted his hands in the back of her soft, flannel gown and held her tight, pressing her length against him until he felt her heart thundering in time with his own. Bending his head, he took her mouth in a kiss that was both liberation and surrender.
Fires leaped within, burning him from the inside out and it was still only a flicker of the heat he felt just holding her. His tongue tangled with hers in a desperate dance of need. She gave herself up to the moment, leaning into him, running her hands up and down his arms until the friction of his own shirt against his skin added a new layer of torture.
Lost in the blinding passion spinning out of control, Sam reached down for the hem of her gown and in one quick yank, pulled it over her head and off. Lacy’s blond hair spilled across her bare shoulders and lay like silk over his hands. His first look at her in two long years hit him hard. She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered and he couldn’t wait another second to get his hands on her. He tossed the nightgown to the chair beside him and then covered her breasts with his palms.
She sighed, letting her head fall back as a murmured groan of pleasure slid from her throat. His thumbs and fingers stroked and rubbed her hardened nipples and he watched those summer-blue eyes of hers roll back as sensations took her over.
Burying his own groan, Sam’s gaze swept up and down her body briefly before he shifted his hold on her, catching her at the waist and lifting her up so he could taste her. First one breast, then the other, his mouth moved over her sensitized skin, licking, nibbling, suckling. The warm, tantalizing scent of her wrapped around him, driving him mad with a hunger he had only known with Lacy.
She clutched at his shoulders and lifted those long legs of hers to wrap around his waist. Having her there, in his arms, was so...right.
He cupped her bare bottom and held her steady as she looked into his eyes, showing him the passion, the desire that he knew was glittering in his own.
“Sam, Sam...” she asked, her voice breathless, “what’re we doing?”
“What we were meant to do,” he murmured, dipping his head to nibble at the slender length of her neck.
She shivered and that tiny reaction reverberated inside him, setting off what felt like earthquake aftershocks that rippled through his system. Who would have guessed that as great as his memories of her had been, they weren’t even close to how good she felt in reality.
Her fingers threaded through his hair and she pulled his head back to meet his gaze. “What’re we waiting for, then?”
“No more waiting at all,” he ground out.
Sam squeezed and caressed her behind until she was writhing against him and every twist of her hips hardened his body further until he felt as though he’d explode with one wrong move. Not yet, his brain screamed, but his body was in charge now and rational or logical or slow didn’t come into it.
