Page 54 of Wishing Hearts

He reaches up, removing my hat and then his own. “I just wanna kiss you. Is that all right?”

This man.

I nod, and Sam leans in, his lips hovering near the corner of my mouth for a long moment before he finally kisses me there. It’s a small touch, just a press, and then he’s moving to the other side. He places a kiss there, too, before his hand settles at my jaw. I just about melt into the floor when his lips whisper over mine in earnest, a brush stroke at most.

“Sammy,” I breathe, liking the way that word sounds more and more these days.

I think Sam likes it, too, based on the way his mouth shifts into a smile against my lips. When he kisses me for real, it’s hungry. Startlingly so. I react in an instant, grabbing Sam’s shirt tight as my lower back hits the tool bench behind me. Sam makes an apologetic sound, tugging me back against his body, but I couldn’t care less about the ache as his hands roam over my ass. He rumbles from deep in his chest, and I shiver.

“If I could,” he says, dropping his lips to my neck, kissing me there between words, “I’d spin you ’round and eat you out right here.”

“Jesus, Sammy,” I groan.

“I’d tug down your pants, spread you wide, and fuckin’ devour you. I adore this ass.” He punctuates his point by gripping my ass cheeks hard over the denim of my jeans.

“It adores you,” I answer, my words mostly breath as Sam’s stubble rakes across the skin of my neck.

Sam mmms as his lips come back up to mine, and his hands tangle in my hair. The strands are sweaty, as am I, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“God, Sam,” I manage between kisses. “You make me feel…”

“What?” he asks, pulling back enough to look me in the eyes. His are hooded, and his mouth is wet.

“Light,” I answer. “You make me feel light.”

Sam grins, eyes raking over my face and pausing near my cheek. He bites his lip some before rubbing his thumb over the spot. “Oops.”

“What?”

“You had some dirt,” he says, eyes dancing. “But I made it worse.”

Snorting, I give Sam a little shove, and he takes a step back, a near boyish smile on his face. He looks light, too. Like literal goddamn sunshine.

“Definitely an angel,” I mutter, swiping at my cheek. Not like it matters. I’m sure most of me is a dirty mess. Sam is, too. “You should shower here before you go,” I find myself telling him.

“Is that so?” he asks, grabbing our hats from the nearby shelf. He replaces mine before tipping his own back onto his head. “I don’t have clean clothes to change into.”

It doesn’t sound at all like an actual refusal. Not that I expected Sam to refuse my offer.

“You can wear mine,” I say. “We’re the same size.”

There’s that rumble again. “All right.” After a moment, Sam adds, “Hey, Harrison?”

I huff a laugh. “Yeah, Sam?”

“Can you tell me somethin’ I don’t wanna hear? I needa get rid of this before we head back outside.” He gestures down to where his jeans are tented, and I shake my head, smile wide.

“I could tell you about the time I found a two-foot-long tapeworm in a dog’s stomach. The owner thought the dog was pregnant. She was not.”

“Oh, God. Gross. Yeah, all right,” Sam says. “Keep talkin’.”

Sam makes the funniest faces as I tell him about that particular client, and even though his erection dies down quickly, we spend another ten minutes inside the shed before joining my family for dinner.

I can’t stop smiling the entire time.

Chapter 16

Sammy

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