Chapter 37 Sam
Tommy’s eyes take less than one second to stare down at my exposed skin now that my top half is only in my bra before he’s on me again, kissing his way along the fabric covering my breasts.
“I keep saying that,” he says, his lips barely making contact as he speaks. He continues his trail for a moment. “Because it’s true.”
Everything about him is driving me closer and closer to that edge without having done anything in my pants. Looking down at him, I see his cowlick that causes one part of his hair to fall in his face when his hat is off, and I know that I want this, I want him, for as long as he’ll have me.
All coherent thoughts leave my brain when his thumb slips under the bottom of my bra, swiping near my nipple. My entire body shudders at the close contact and when he runs that thumb in a circle around it, my back arches on its own volition, pressing myself towards his body. With that one hand, he deftly brings his fingers between my breasts where the clasp is and with a little flick, the tension around my ribs loosens.
Tommy’s moan continues as his mouth captures my now-exposed nipple, the vibration from his voice with the feel of his tongue causes a mewling sound to escape me. When his hand flips both cups out of the way, his fingers find my other nipple, rolling it, tugging lightly on it, and palming my breast, the sensation is almost too much.
Holy cow, I’ve never felt this much pleasure just from staying above-the-belt.
Worry creeps in as I think about the progression of what’s to come. What if I can’t have an orgasm with someone else very well? What if this doesn’t work?
A chill hits one breast when Tommy lifts his head. “Where’d you go just now? Is this okay?”
My mouth opens to respond but nothing comes out, so I nod.
“Tell whatever is going through your mind to take a hike, we have important business to attend to.” His grin is contagious.
Soaking in his cedar and garlic scent, I tug at the back of his head and tip mine down. His lips are on mine and I lose myself in the feel of how quickly our mouths move in sync. How eager we both are to connect like this. My tongue finds his and he seems to devour any sound that leaves me. His fingers deftly move from my breast and caress their way down my belly, brushing against the top of my jeans.
“Is this okay?” he asks, leaving kisses down my jaw.
Nerves try to consume me so I focus on the ones of anticipation as I nod. I’m well aware that he’s had girlfriends before, but the ease and speed that he has that top button undone has me wondering just how many people the so-called nerdy Landen brother has done this with and I stare at the ceiling. I push down the jealousy that automatically surfaces to make way for the self-doubt. What if he doesn’t like any hair down there? What if he likes a lot? Oh God, what if he thinks I smell or something horrifying like that?
“Samantha,” he whispers in my ear, which he then nibbles on, pulling me back in the moment. His fingers are at the top of my underwear. I can’t even remember which ones I’m wearing, for crying out loud… “What’s not working?”
Oh my goodness, he thinks he’s doing something wrong.
“Nothing,” I squeak out.
He pauses his progress and lets his finger trace a lazy circle right where it is, making me want him more than I thought possible. As he lifts his head so he can look at me, I already know the face he’ll be making: one eyebrow raised with a deadpan expression.
And I’m right.
My hand goes over my face and I let out a frustrated sound. “It’s not you at all. I’m worried that I’m doing something wrong, or did something wrong, or will do something wrong.”
He looks puzzled. “Why would you be thinking that?”
“I don’t know! I’m not used to being the center of attention.”
“We can stop,” he begins.
“Please, for the love of all that is holy don’t you dare do that.”
That earns me a smirk. “Alright then,” he says. “Then we need to change something up.”
Sitting up, he looks around the room for a moment. “Stay right here.”
It takes so much self-control to not reclasp my bra the moment he steps away, holding up a finger to keep me still. Tommy closes the door to the bathroom and pulls the blinds down over the windows, dimming the light in the room. He unbuttons his shirt on the way back, giving me a glimpse of his upper chest and the form-fitting tank he’s wearing underneath.
“This is all about you, Samantha, and I meant it when I said you can tell me the good and the bad. But I also want you to be able to do exactly as you please. All I ask is that you pace yourself because it’s been a while for me.” He gives a little self-deprecating chuckle but there’s a little hurt in his eyes, like there’s a reason for this gap for him. All I want is to make that insecurity, or maybe pain, go away for him.
When he’s in front of me, I sit up and allow my bra straps to fall down my arms, somehow keeping my mind clear. I reach up and remove his flannel shirt, letting my hands feel his shoulders, his biceps, his forearms, and his fingers before it falls to the floor. My eyes finally lock with his and the intensity of his blue gaze makes my heart race. Just as he did, I pull at the bottom of his shirt to untuck it, feeling heat roll off of him. But before I lift it, I shift so I’m kneeling on his bed, scooting backwards and tugging him with me. Once we’re closer to the center of his mattress, I lean back and bring his shirt over his head so he’s bent over me by the time it’s off his arms.
He catches himself before falling completely on top of me but settles so our skin is pressed together and I whimper.
“Are you ready now, Samantha Davies?” he asks, his nose running along my neck up to my ear.
“Yes, please,” I breathe.