Page 51 of The Love Lie
“Did you sleep with my sister?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“And the dream suite?”
“We threw some shit on the floor, and then she spent most of the night crying to me about her ex.”
“Thank god.”
Sam wriggles her hands free and yanks off his shirt.
Holy man chest.
There’s just so much muscle. She doesn’t even know where to begin. Michelangelo himself couldn’t carve it better. The rippled contours. The firm, hot skin. The sinewy curves. She places her palms on his wrists, then slowly runs them up his forearms and over his biceps to his broad, sculpted shoulders. His muscles flex as she passes over them. She dips low, trailing her fingers over the ridges of his washboard abs, tracing every stacked crevice. Finally, she pauses at the deep V disappearing into his waistband. She swallows, throat dry as his muscles tense. He sucks in a soft breath as she grazes the top edge of his worn jeans. It would be so easy to dip her fingers beneath the denim. So easy to wrap them around him. So easy to fast-track to the good stuff the way she usually does.
But with him, it’s all good. And if they only have one night, she wants to savor it.
Sam looks up.
He’s watching her, eyes nearly black. The termsmoldermust’ve been created for this exact moment. His expression burns her from the inside out. He puts his hands against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in every way possible, body, mind, spirit. The intensity of his gaze overwhelms her. There’s a dare buried deep inside that look, a silent challenge, as if he’s giving her one last out. She flattens her tongue against his pec in response and glides it all the way up to his throat. He slides his hands beneath her shorts and tightens them around her ass.
Suddenly, Cooper swings them around.
Without the pressure of the wall against her back, she feels airborne, as though she’s being launched out of the real world and into some sort of a fever dream. She tightens her arms around his neck. His mouth finds her ear.
“If you won’t give me your lips, Sam, I’m going to claim every other goddamn inch of you before the night is through.”
Then she actually is flying. He tosses her onto the bed and leaps after like a panther on its prey. Her shorts disappear in an instant. Then his mouth is on her stomach, his scruff deliciously rough against her soft skin. Calloused hands find their way to her panties and pull them off. True to his word, he devours every bare inch of her skin, teasing her with his lips as they drift closer and farther then closer and farther from the center of her need. He licks her hip bone, kisses her inner thigh, works his way over her knee and down her calf to pull her fuzzy socks dramatically off with his teeth, earning a laugh. She knows exactly what he’s doing. Trying to drive her wild and it’s working. Luckily, she’s always been the sort to give as good as she gets.
As he makes another taunting pass along her lower abdomen, Sam grabs him through his pants. He jerks with a groan. While he’s distracted, she hooks her legs around his hips and flips them so she’s the one on top. Then it’s her turn to striphim. She works his pants slowly down his thighs, momentarily distracted by the rather impressive bulge on display beneath his boxer briefs as she runs her fingers softly over his muscled thighs. The idiot still has his cowboy boots on, so his pants bunch around his ankles. He tries to kick them off but it’s a no-go. So she hops off the bed and yanks at the heels in what has got to be the least seductive pose in the history of sex, but gets the job done. He’s practically cackling by the time the secondthudsounds. Her lips curl. She’s determined to make him pay. But right as she fondles elastic, he sits up and wraps his arms around her back, pulling her tight to his chest. Her arms go instinctively around his neck. He grins up at her as she arches a brow.
“I wasn’t finished yet, cowboy.”
“Too damn bad, darlin’.”
He pulls her breast into his mouth. She grinds her hips as he works his magic, that point of pressure growing harder, wetter. The desire mounts within her. At some point he flips them so she’s on her back, but she’s too far gone to notice. He works her with his fingers, then his mouth. For every move of his, she mounts a counterattack. It’s like a battle, each one fighting to gain more ground. The first time she cries out, it’s a concession. He growls against her skin.
“Say my name.”
“Cooper.”
“Like you fucking mean it, Sam.”
She arches her back as stars dance across her eyes. “Cooper!”
“Good girl.”
He’s focused, relentless, making her scream his name again and again, until it’s no longer a surrender but a plea to keep going, to not stop, to give her more and more and more. When he sinks himself deep inside her, she finally understands what that look in his eyes was before. Not a dare, but a promise. Tomake this night count. To break down her walls. To wreck her for anyone else.
And dammit, that’s exactly what he does.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
cooper
Sam runsher fingers softly over his chest, tracing invisible lines along his skin. They’ve been quiet for a few minutes, recovering. One of her legs rests casually over his hips. Their limbs entangle. He keeps her close, holding her around the shoulders as if at any moment she might run away. Hopefully, she lacks the energy for it.
Cooper, at least, is completely spent.
