Chapter Four
Samantha
Ididn’t remember getting out of the car and closing the door behind me, but there I was, standing on Max Remington’s postage stamp-sized front porch as he unlocked the door to his townhouse. I noticed that his hand shook a little, and somehow, that made me feel better.
He turned the knob, and the door swung open.
“After you.” He didn’t touch me at all, but as I passed close to his body, I swore I felt heat coming from him. Distracted, I nearly tripped over the threshold.
“Whoa there.” He caught my elbow and stepped inside behind me, shutting the door and turning the lock.
“Sorry. First day on the new feet.” We’d come inside directly into a high-ceilinged great room, and I stopped, turning in a slow circle. “Wow. This is gorgeous.”
“Thanks.” He jingled his keys in his hands and then dropped them into a wooden bowl on a long rough-hewn table. “I bought it as an investment when I was stationed here, but I have to say, I’m going to miss it when I’m rotated out.”
The casual way with which he spoke of moving away squeezed at my heart, but I ignored that for the moment. “Did you decorate it yourself?”
“I had some help from my mom and my sister, but the main ideas were mine.” He stuck his hands back into his pockets as I’d seen him do before. I wondered if that was his go-to move when he was nervous. Or maybe he wasn’t nervous. Maybe that was just me.
“It’s really beautiful,” I repeated. “It looks like something from out of a magazine.”
“Thanks. Do you, um, want a tour?” He stood a few feet away from me, leaning on the back of the sofa, looking so uncertain that suddenly my own jitters were washed away.
“No.” I shook my head. “No, I really don’t.” I advanced on him, stepping closer until I could feel his breath warm on my face. “There’s only one thing I want to explore here.” I laid my hands flat on his chest, reveling when it rose quickly under my touch. Keeping my gaze steady on his, I slid my palms lower until they rested on his stomach. He inhaled sharply, and I wiggled my fingers just enough to feel the shape of the steel muscles under the soft cotton of his gray T-shirt. “You look different in regular clothes. Less official, and less ... scary, I guess. But even yesterday, in whatever that camo suit you were wearing is called—”
“BDUs.” His voice was rough. “Battle Dress Uniform. That’s what I was in yesterday.”
“Right. BDUs. Even in that, I could see how built you are. I wanted to touch you here and see if I was right about how you’d feel under my hands.”
“Samantha.” His fingers circled my wrists, not forcing me away but not allowing my hands to travel further, either. “If we ... are you sure about this? You only met me yesterday. We could ... I don’t know. Drink coffee. Watch a movie.” He swallowed hard.
“I don’t want to drink coffee, and I don’t want to watch a movie.” I twisted my hands until they were resting within his. “I’m old enough to know my own mind, and you don’t have to worry. I won’t expect anything from you after. We’re both consenting adults who are attracted to each other. That’s all that matters.” I winked at him. “Besides, you only met me yesterday, too. Maybe I’m the one you should be worried about. Maybe I’m a witch who has you under my spell.”
His eyes went dark and dangerous, and in a move too rapid for me to anticipate, he’d captured both of my hands in one of his. With his other hand on my hip, he walked me backward until we bumped into the wall behind me.
“There’s definitely something magic going on,” he muttered, and then before I could take another breath, his mouth was on me. This was no gentle first kiss. His lips were aggressive on mine, seeking, tasting and taking. When I opened to him, moaning deep in my throat, his tongue teased the inside of my mouth, stroking me.
Max moved the hand not holding my wrists, skimming it up from my waist to cup one of my breasts. His thumb circled the nipple, not quite touching the bud. I tried to shift to make him touch me there, but he only braced his legs against me more securely.
“Ah, ah ... no moving.” He pressed against me, and through the thin cotton of my skirt, I could feel his turgid cock beneath the zipper of his jeans. “Don’t move until ... and unless ...I tell you.”
His hand tightened on my boob, and I closed my eyes, exhaling to keep from squirming with want. His thumb began to move again, still avoiding the part of me that was becoming desperate for his touch.
“You’ve got such perfect tits.” He bent his head to nuzzle my cleavage. “They were driving me crazy yesterday and tonight. And last night, in bed, I kept imagining what they would look like if I did this.”
He curled his fingers around both the cup of my bra and the neckline of my shirt and tugged down until my boob was bared.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “Even better than what I’d pictured.” With one finger, he stroked the soft skin underneath. “Full and beautiful. Perfect in my hand. And this part right here—” He blew gently on the peak. “It seems to want something more.”
“Yesssss.” I closed my eyes and arched my neck, willing him to touch me there.
“What is it that it wants, Samantha?” Max lowered his head to murmur against my ear. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what makes you wild.”
I panted. “Pinch my nipple. Suck on it hard. Don’t be soft. But touch me, goddammit.”
He laughed, but praise all the singing angels, he did what I asked of him. His fingers closed over the aching point, rubbing it between them before he pinched it. I was just catching my breath from that pleasure when he took the same nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while his tongue pressed it against the roof of his mouth.
It felt so damn good that my hips began to move restlessly, searching for more. But Max ignored that. Instead, he yanked down the other side of my shirt and gave that nipple the same excruciatingly wonderful treatment, sucking at me until I whimpered and begged.
