Chapter Thirty-Two

Stuck on her back, Meg pushed herself up on her elbows, struggling to get off the sofa. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Sam heeled off his boots and tugged his t-shirt over his head. “What I should have done last night instead of letting you go to bed alone. Maybe if I had you wouldn’t have got arrested and things wouldn’t have come to this.”

Mouth opening and closing a couple of times, Meg grasped for words. Did he think stumping up the cash to spring her from the clink meant he could take payment in kind? Hadn’t she told him already they wouldn’t be having sex anymore? He mustn’t have been paying attention. No way, no matter how gorgeous his abs, and they were fine, fine abs, and his pecs weren’t exactly flabby either.

She dragged her eyes away from his toned body and finally found her voice. She glared at him. How dare he think he could railroad her into sex just by getting naked? “Don’t even think about taking your pants off, mister. This is so not happening. You can’t toss me on the sofa and have your way with me. I’m not your fuck buddy anymore.”

A grin teased the corners of his mouth as he unbuckled his belt, flipped the popper on his jeans open, and unzipped.

She should get off the sofa. She should stop him. She shouldn’t watch him drop his… oh my! Her voice barely a whisper she squeaked out, “Sam, I mean it.”

He kicked his jeans aside. “About not being my fuck buddy?”

Her eyes focused on what she would be giving up, erect, proudly throbbing its intentions. Her pussy ached, her panties had become damp and she couldn’t stop her tongue wetting her lips but she wouldn’t lose the battle. If she gave in now they would be back to square one. She slowly nodded her head.

He shoved her onto her back, grabbed her feet, tugged off her shoes then pulled the bottom of her sweatpants. “Good, because I don’t want you to be my fuck buddy either.”

He didn’t? What was wrong with her? So, she had a bit of trouble with the cops but her bits were as good as ever. How dare he dismiss her out of hand? And if he didn’t want her, what was with the nudity and bobbing dick? Did he want to give her one last look at what she would be missing? Well, screw him. She didn’t care if she never had him again. He should be the one sobbing or at least look a bit put out at her rejection. His attitude was pissing her off. “Why not? I thought I did a fantastic job?”

He chuckled. “I thought you’d be pleased. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

In one fluid movement he left her naked from the waist down. Her temper flared. If they weren’t fuck buddies why the hell was he undressing her?

“Hey, dipshit, put my pants back on right now. I don’t know what your game is, but it’s not fucking funny.”

Before she could escape, he landed on top of her. Now his erection ground against her stomach. How was she supposed to keep her head under such duress? Sam supported his weight with one hand planted on the sofa; the other held her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“I’m not fucking you anymore.”

She snorted, “Really, so that huge boner giving me a do it yourself appendectomy is just your way of saying hello?”

He chuckled. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a real way with words? Don’t worry; I fully intend to put my boner to good use…but not fucking you.”

Meg was surprised at the wave of disappointment that washed over her. He didn’t want to screw her? Well, good then. Because that was exactly what she wanted, although, it didn’t explain why he was lying naked on top of her.

“Fine, so get off me.”

Slowly he shook his head. The humor had drained from his face. His eyes were darker, he looked serious, scary serious. Meg struggled to pull in a lungful of air.

“No, Meg, I won’t get off. I plan to do what I should have been doing from the beginning. I lied about being happy to share you. I won’t share you with anyone. You’re mine. No more fucking. From now on I’m going to make love to you.”

Without waiting for a response, he pressed his lips to hers and she melted into the kiss. He slid his tongue over hers, drawing it back into his mouth to play as he slipped a hand inside her sweatshirt. Freeing her left breast from its Lycra casing, he pinched her nipple, sending a pulse of lust straight to her center.

Hand still firmly planted on her boob, he broke the kiss and stared at her. “So, don’t tell me you’re lost for words?”

She was. Her mind reeled. Did that mean he loved her? Had she heard right? Was it just a tease?

“Are you serious?”

He grinned. “There are some things even I don’t joke about.”

“And making love is one of them?”

“Absolutely. Maggie Riley, I love every crazy inch of you.”

Every nerve ending in her body tingled. He was hers, all hers. She could ride the pony whenever she wanted. And she wanted, boy, did she ever! No one had ever made love to her before. She wiggled her hips and smiled at him. “I love every inch of you as well, hard and soft.”

She tugged his face to hers and devoured his mouth. In a tangle of arms and legs they tumbled off the edge of the sofa onto the floor, leaving her on top.

Screaming brought them both to their senses. Sam stared up at her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Fine, it’s just my phone.”

He grabbed his jeans and pulled a silver condom wrapper from his pocket. “Leave it.”

Sitting up and sliding down his body so he could sheath himself, she shook her head. “I can’t concentrate. It’s my mother. She’ll just keep calling if I don’t switch it off.”

Sam nodded his agreement and she scrambled off him. On all fours she reached under the table, rescuing the phone from where it had fallen when she dumped her bag. She pulled the phone toward her with her fingertips just as she felt Sam’s hand rest on her back and his cock thrust deep inside her.

Hitting the button to silence the phone, she groaned and pushed back, willing him to impale her. Apparently lovemaking didn’t involve much foreplay, not that she needed any, she was hot for the taking the minute he dropped his drawers revealing his veined steely shaft.

Sam’s hand appeared next to her head, another snaked its way between her thighs. The only sounds to fill the room were the slap of damp skin against damp skin, her moans of pleasure, and Sam’s guttural voice urging her to come hard for him.

Rush after rush of orgasmic power ripped through her whole abdomen. Unable to contain the joy of her first love-induced climax she screamed Sam’s name. Two thrusts later he joined the frenzy, his cock stiffening, and pushing deeper he released jet after jet of seed inside her as he praised the Gods for her hot snatch.

Spent and shaking, she was relieved when Sam wrapped an arm around her and pulled them both onto the carpet. Lying on the floor still tangled together, she turned to face him and he smiled. “I love you, Meg.”

She smiled. “I love you, too. When can we do that again?”

He laughed and captured her mouth for a kiss. His tongue, hard and demanding, pushed her libido into overdrive.

“Meg? Meg? What’s going on? Why are you screaming Sam’s name? I need to talk to you about your Aunt Maud. There has been some trouble at St Andrews. They want to throw her out. Meg? Meg? Are you even listening to me?”

They pulled apart and stared at each other. “I thought you turned the phone off?”

Meg chewed her bottom lip. “I must have hit the wrong button.”

Sam got to his feet and handed her the phone. “Good luck explaining what you were just doing to your mum.”

“Coward.”

He chuckled. “Guilty as charged. I’m going for a shower. When you’ve finished up, why don’t you and your sandals come join me?”

Meg watched his toned butt disappear down the hallway before lifting the phone to her ear. “Mum?”

The End

About the Author:

Born and bred in the UK, Lillian Grant’s whole life was turned on its head when, at the tender age of eighteen, she met and fell instantly in love with her darling husband. She knew the minute she met him she was going to marry him and, fortunately, he came to the same conclusion less than six months later.

She has travelled the world with her husband and currently calls Australia home. It didn’t take her long to turn native. She became an Australian citizen and dropped the British accent. However, her wanderlust didn’t stop with moving to the other side of the world. With her husband and two sons she has moved from state to state, always ready for a new adventure. Her stories reflect her love for travel and exotic locations, along with a quirky British sense of humor. Well, you can’t give up all of your heritage now, can you?