Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Naomi
I t’s not long before my tears are long forgotten. Dry, or possibly just indistinguishable from the rest of the liquid now pouring down every inch of my body.
“It’s freaking hot out here,” I say, taking a break from raking to wipe my sweaty brow with my sweating, sticky forearm.
Sam grins over at me, setting down the weed-eater and stretching. As I watch, he peels off his own sweat soaked shirt, tossing it over the side of the wheelbarrow.
“Totally unfair,” I chide, even though I’m not a bit displeased by my new view.
I start to rake again with gusto.
I officially love raking. Who knew it could be so fun to move piles of plant matter from one place to another with a giant spiny fork? I can’t even explain the satisfaction of it. One minute the ground is covered in the remains of vines Sam butchered into little pieces, the next—clean.
I pause for a moment and lean on my rake as a thought occurs to me. I wonder if housecleaning gives this same kind of satisfaction? I’ve always heard people talk about stress cleaning, but I always assumed they were just getting the benefits of the exercise. Endorphins and whatnot. I certainly never gave more than a passing thought to my own clean house after returning from lunch each and every Thursday to find it thoroughly scrubbed and organized by Sara, my housekeeper.
The thought that I’ve spent my whole life letting someone else claim the satisfaction of turning my tornado of a room into their own personal Mt. Everest is sobering. No wonder all the rich people I know are so unhappy.
Because right now, I’m on top of the world. Sure, I have shirtless Sam to feast my eyes on, with his long, lean frame and knee length shorts sagging low on his hips, not a colorful, hipster tattoo anywhere in sight. I’m practically drooling as I imagine running my hands up his strong back, the lube of his sweat making my skin glide over his?—
He turns to look at me, eyebrows raised, and I snap back to work, raking like my life depends on it.
We load the brush into the wheelbarrow wearing leather work gloves. Mine are at least two sizes too big, causing me to smile whenever my freakishly large hands come into view.
Sam dumps the load back in the jungle, down a trail to where he tells me is his brush pile. I wait at the edge of the forest, unneeded, but not ready to stop helping.
This was so much fun.
We walk back over to the worksite to gather up the tools, and I stand back and admire how great it looks.
“Pretty nice, huh?” Sam asks, coming up beside me and leaning his shoulder into mine.
I nod up at him. “You were right. That was just what I needed.”
The truth of my words don’t hit me until I’ve spoken them. I feel so much better. Not just cheered up or having forgotten my problems temporarily. I’m a new person.
Covered from head to toe in sweat, dirt, and plant matter which, in itself, is another new experience.
“Why don’t you grab your rake, I’ll show you where it goes in the shed,” Sam says, tucking his clippers and gloves into his pockets.
“Sounds good,” I respond, just as the sky gives an ominous boom.
My head whips around to Sam, who’s grinning at me, eyebrows raised. “Looks like we finished just in time.”
As if timed to his words, the universe opens up at that very moment and what feels like an entire ocean’s worth of water starts to pour down on our heads.
I let out a scream and Sam grabs my hand, pulling me behind him toward the safety of the nearest outbuilding at least fifty feet away. We run through the pouring rain, avoiding where the water is already puddling, laughing as we get thoroughly drenched.
When we finally reach the tin overhang, I fall into his arms, exhilarated, dripping, and so, so happy. Sam holds me tightly to him, and I can feel his chest shake with laughter. When I glance up, he’s looking down at me, raindrops sliding off the ends of his lashes.
“I think this is the first time I’ve given a rake such a big hug,” he says with a smile.
I glance down and see that I never set my rake down. I’ve got it pinned between us in the embrace. I let out a laugh so pure and joyful that it almost brings tears to my eyes.
Have I ever, for a single moment in my life, been this happy?
“I really love my rake,” I manage and Sam’s grin just grows wider .
I start to lay my head against his chest, to curl into the warm, glowing feeling of this moment, this perfect embrace, but Sam’s fingers catch my chin, turning my wet face back up to meet his.
I see his lips coming and close my eyes, allowing the kiss to hit my other senses. I feel the softness of his skin against mine. I smell the rainstorm mingling with the earth and the jungle, the fresh scent of being washed clean. I taste the salt of our hard work, the clean water from the sky, the perfect sweetness of Sam as he deepens the kiss, pressing into my mouth.
I let the rake go, dropping my arm to let it fall to the side and rest against the building. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m pressed against the hard wood of the shed myself, Sam’s hands on either side of my shoulders as I relax onto the solid surface.
He’s kissing me so deeply and I’m chasing every swipe of his tongue, eager for more of this man in any way I can get it. I finally get to live my dream of running my hands up his wet torso, the rainwater mixing with sweat and dirt, creating a slick, gritty feel to him that I can’t get enough of. I grip the meat of him and pull him closer.
I know I’m just as wet and dirty, but somehow the thought of it doesn't make me shy away, exactly the opposite. I want to co-mingle our messy bodies. Right here and now.
“Sam, take my shirt off,” I say into his cheek as I manage to slide my lips away for a brief moment before he recaptures them, groaning into my mouth.
Our lips part for another second as he obeys, pulling my soaked tank-top and bra together up and over my head, gently freeing them from the tangle of my wet hair. I don’t see where the garments land, my eyes still closed, every nerve in my whole body bracing itself for the moment when his hands finally touch down on my sensitive skin.
I swear to god fireworks go off when he takes my pebbled nipples between his fingers.
Thunder booms so loud we both jump.
Sam recovers first, dropping to his knees in front of me, all attention focused on getting my nipples in his mouth. I decide if he’s not worried about the storm, I’m probably safe out here and allow myself to relax into it. He’s sucking and biting me in the most delicious ways, and I almost don’t realize how low his hands have slid on my hips, or how my shorts and panties seem to be coming down with them.
He doesn’t pause to ask permission, and I give no resistance, biting my lip and watching as he abandons my damp clothes around my knees and reaches both hands up to spread my thighs and touch the tip of his tongue down on my screaming clit.
I can’t help but laugh in surprise. “Jeez, Sammy. Just going for it, huh?”
His intense gaze meets mine, mouth still hovering centimeters away from my core. “This is all I ever think about.”
“Well,” I manage as he lays into me, tongue flat and broad, swiping the entirety of my slit. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I don’t think I could if I tried. Sam’s strong hands grip my hips as he feasts on me like a dying man, my moans of pleasure being periodically drowned out by a boom of thunder or the pounding of rain. I’m a whimpering, begging mess by the time he releases one hip to slide his fingers down to help.
He starts by grazing them from clit to entrance, teasing me so deliciously I actively work not to come on the spot.
I’m not ready for this to be over.
Holding back gets a lot harder when he enters me, his deft fingers finding my spot and rubbing me from the inside as his tongue flicks back and forth on my clit.
“Sam, I’m going to come,” I moan.
Sam groans in pleasure as another boom of thunder shakes the ground underneath us. I let out a tiny shriek, but the excitement of the storm does nothing to douse the flames he’s creating between my legs. If anything, it pushes me closer to the edge.
He holds me there a torturously long time, as if he can feel just the right way to string me along. Until he finally pushes me off. I careen into my orgasm, buckling at the core as pleasure spasms my entire body. I know I’m crying out, but I can’t hear myself over the sound of a fresh downpour on the tin roof above us.
Sam’s tongue and fingers don’t let up until I come through to the other side, laughing and shaking him off as my flesh turns ultra-sensitive.
As soon as my vision returns to normal, I look down at him, sitting on his heels in an increasingly large puddle of muddy water, watching me like I hung the damn moon.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
Sam shakes his head. “Are you?”
I’m freezing, but I don’t want to admit it. I still have a rainstorm blowjob ahead of me, so I woman up and shake my head, even as my teeth start chattering.
Sam runs his hands up my legs, and I can feel my goosebumps grow under his palms. “Let’s get you into the shower.”
I almost moan at the pleasure his words bring, but I hold my ground. “I want to…you know. Do you now.”
Another shake of his head, this time with a sly smile. “I’m fine, princess.”
The front of his shorts is telling another story, practically screaming it, considering how wet they are. He sees me looking and presses himself to his feet, bringing one hand to either side of my shoulders once more, pinning me back to the wall.
“Why don’t you let me put you in a hot shower, and I’ll let you watch me take care of this myself.”
I whimper, unable to help myself. I’m so beyond shame right now.
Sam just smiles. “I’ll take that as a yes.”