CHAPTER NINE #2
“So come to Hemmer’s with me so we can play,” she murmured.
“I’m in no mood to be teased tonight,” he warned.
She did not look away from him. “Then why is she on your sofa?”
“Challenges,” he shrugged. He whispered, “I’d never let ye go to Hemmer’s alone.”
Her heart soared. Sam was acutely aware of his hard body against hers now, throbbing. “I didn’t think so.”
For one moment, his gaze became searching. He released her. “Some fear would serve ye well, Sam. So would caution.”
Sam laughed softly. “From one reckless soul to another.” She grinned at Jan. “So have you two reached an understanding? Got the position all mapped out? I mean, all laid out?” She was aware of his hard hip, his hand still on her waist.
Jan stood, clearly annoyed. “In a way, we have. We’re going to finish our drinks, Sam. Privately. He was much calmer and more reasonable until you showed up. Your evening at Hemmer’s can be postponed.”
Like hell, Sam thought. She opened her purse. Ian watched her like a hawk as she handed him the DVD. “I think she’s kicking me out.”
“What’s that?” he asked warily, staring at the DVD before looking up at her.
She knew in that moment he hadn’t seen it. She was triumphant. “Oh, something you might like—a lot. I’d check it before you go to bed. Hell, maybe you can watch it with her over that white wine. Meanwhile, I am really late. Why don’t you come over when you’re done with her?” She turned to leave.
But he caught her arm again, jerking her back against his stiff body. His gaze was narrow with speculation now. Behind them, Jan said, “What are you up to, Sam?”
“Oh, I’m pretty good at providing entertainment. Call it negotiating, call it foreplay, hey, call it sealing the deal, if you want.”
“What’s on the DVD?” Jan asked carefully.
“It was a gift,” Sam said softly. She looked at Ian. Desire sizzled between them. “From our favorite bad guy.”
His eyes widened. Then he let her go and strode across the living room with the DVD in hand. Sam saw a laptop sitting on an antique desk. Her body was humming and hot. The aching had begun some time ago, maybe way back when they’d first met in Oban. It was explosive now.
Jan followed Ian across the room, her expression distasteful. She gave Sam a dark look as she passed her, clearly not trusting her.
Sam tried not to laugh. “What are you, his shadow?”
“If I understood you, the DVD is from Hemmer,” Jan said. “Have you mentioned it to Nick?”
“Not really,” Sam murmured as Ian sat down at the desk.
Jan walked over to him and said, “You should be careful.” She glanced up at Sam. “Why do I have the feeling that this is a trap?”
“I was given the DVD, Jan. It wasn’t my idea.”
Ian slid the DVD into the drive. “She can trap me any time.”
Jan said, “I hope your jealousy hasn’t shredded the last of what used to be your good judgment.”
Sam couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, and pigs can fly like his taxicab did yesterday. I am so not jealous.” She wasn’t exactly certain about how Jan would react to the tape, but she hoped she’d be embarrassed—no, mortified.
And Ian was going to be on her hook, squirming. Ian was going to lose all control.
Jan looked from her to Ian and back again as the PC whirred.
“You know,” she finally said, “you can be a bitch—but I don’t hate you—even though you hate me.
You only hate me because I’m attractive and closer to Nick than you are.
I actually respect you, Sam, even if you’re hung up a hundred different ways. ”
“Gee, I’m touched,” Sam said, and then she heard her own gasp of pleasure.
Ian had been waiting for the DVD to play, his gaze on the screen. He went still.
Jan glanced at the monitor and turned red.
Sam forgot Jan. She watched Ian. He was rapt. His expression was hard, his gaze riveted now. She knew exactly what he was watching. She’d replayed that first scene and a few others a few times.
Jan walked out; Sam barely noticed.
The air in the room had changed. It was charged now, on fire.
Ian’s gaze never left the monitor as his eyes darkened impossibly. He sat down. She saw his chest rise and fall beneath the dark T-shirt he wore. “Come here,” he said softly.
This was it, she thought. “Only if you say pretty please.”
His shoulders stiffened and he tore his gaze from the monitor. His eyes were blinding, as bright as lightning. “Do ye really think ye can tease me with a tape?”
“I sort of know it,” Sam said dryly. “Wouldn’t you rather come with me to Hemmer’s than stay here with a born-again virgin?”
His gaze skidded back to the screen. He breathed hard. “Come here.”
She usually hated taking orders, but not this time.
That harsh command sent desire cascading through her, from her hollow rib cage to her shaky legs.
Sam walked slowly over to him, reminding herself that this was what she’d wanted to set in motion.
But he was going to squirm—a lot. Not that she wanted a way out.
She just wanted him to beg and plead for it.
Sam paused beside the chair where he sat. Before she even looked at the couple on the screen, he seized her wrist. “How many times have ye watched?”
Sam wet her lips, trying to speak, but she couldn’t. His hand was fire on her skin. His face was hard and tight, strained. Sam looked at the monitor and inhaled, her heart thundering, her thighs impossibly tight.
He was rubbing that steel ring over her, everywhere, with his massive and broad length.
He hit the Pause button.
Sam stared at his hand. His knuckles were white.
She looked lower, at the huge bulge in his jeans.
It had to hurt. But that was okay, because she hurt, too, and she’d been hurting for a while…
Then she looked at the screen. “Too bad the cameras were mounted. A zoom shot would have been great,” she said thickly.
He slowly looked up at her. “Oh, I can zoom in.”
She wet her lips. “We’re going to a party.”
“The party’s right here.”
It was hard to remember why she wanted to make him pant for her—why she’d decided to hold out until he did.
He caught her hips and pulled her closer, then smiled up at her.
For one moment, Sam was certain he was going to move his face against the jersey of her dress, between her thighs, against her sex.
“You can come with me, or I’ll go alone.”
“Threats.” He released her and stood, reaching for the zipper on his jeans. Sam’s heart lurched. He slid his hand over the huge bulge there, watching her, then snagged the zipper. He slowly lowered it, his gaze on her face.
Sam knew she was fixated. She could hear her own heavy, wild heartbeat. She should pretend nonchalance, but she couldn’t look up.
She felt his mouth curve. She knew he smiled, and knew there was amusement, too. His arousal sprang free of the jeans. The steel ring, pierced low on the head there, glinted.
She felt her thighs clench, her knees buckle.
“What’s wrong? Will ye faint?” he taunted.
She was dizzy, she thought, inhaling sharply. He made a soft sound, took her hand and slid it over the shaft, held it there. Sam tried to breathe and failed. The ring lay on the edge of her thumb now.
He caught the hem of her dress. “I’m not leaving this room,” he said. “Neither are ye. Not until I say so.”
It was so hard to speak. It was even harder to think.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Sam heard herself say thickly.
She ran her hand down his entire length.
He was silent, throbbing heavily there. Her own body was on the verge of implosion.
She wondered if the ring hurt. There was a fine line between pleasure and pain.
Too late, as she pushed up at the ring, making him gasp, she realized she was not the one in control. She was lusting insanely for him now.
“Dinna stop,” he warned, tugging the hem of her dress up her thighs.
She somehow tore her gaze upward.
He smiled arrogantly at her. Triumph was reflected in his eyes.
“Sonuvabitch,” she managed. He had won.
“Did ye really think to play me with a sex tape?” he murmured. “Who’s being played now?”
Sam looked from his gorgeous, hot eyes to his full, slightly open mouth. She cursed. She bent down, gripped him more firmly, and pushed her tongue at the ring. He went still; she cried out. Then she started to taste him, the ring against her tongue.
His entire body trembled and he jerked convulsively. “How many times did ye watch the tape?”
She sucked hard, unable to speak. The ring fluttered against her tongue.
He tightened his grasp. “How many times?”
She choked off a moan. The pressure was building impossibly now. She began to tremble, her cheek pressed against him now, the ring digging into her skin. “Do you really want me to answer—and stop?” she managed hoarsely.
His hand moved to the bottom of her chin, and he forced her to look up at him. “Ye’ll never want a toy again.”
Their gazes locked. His was fierce, triumphant and blinding in its lust. And then he jerked her upright. Sam reached for his shoulders instinctively. She was ready to jump him. It should be the other way around. “Damn you, Maclean,” she said harshly, leaning fully against him.
“But yer ready to die.”
He was right. Sam hooked her calf around his waist. He turned her backward over the desk, began to force her down. Sam wrapped her other leg around him.
“Hang on,” he whispered.
“Bastard,” she said.
He impaled her.
His huge length and width filled her, stunning her almost senseless—except for the crescendo of pleasure that instantly began.
Sam cried out. There was so much heat. The pressure was impossible.
He laughed, pushed her down on the desk so she was flat on her back, sending objects and papers flying. “I told ye I was the best.”
My God, she thought, he was right. Her mind glazed over as the waves of pleasure crashed and broke. He seized her shoulders, held them down and began moving urgently, into her, hard and deep. Sam felt the ring. It sent her over another precipice and he cried out, too.