I can't take you to be hanged.
There they were at last, the words Annie had prayed to hear for what had seemed an eternity, over days of agonizing over what Sam might do. She'd finally gotten what she wanted from this man. She'd won.
She should have laughed in triumph. She should have shouted her elation.
Instead she burst into tears. Not just tears, but wrenching, humiliating sobs—and this for a woman who couldn't bear the thought of crying in front of any man. But somehow, Sam's smile and the sweet way he'd spoken had touched something in her, bursting a dam of emotion, sending tenderness piercing through to her core when she'd thought her defenses were impenetrable.
He reacted in panic. "Oh, God! What's wrong? What'd I do?"
"Nothing," she wailed. "It's just I'm so—"
"So what?"
"Relieved."
"Relieved?" he cried incredulously. "And that's why you're bawlin' your eyes out?"
Staring down at Annie, Sam felt heartsick at the sounds of her sorrow. He'd seen this woman angry and feisty, but never falling apart. The sight was devastating. He could only clutch her close and groan as emotion shook her.
Her anguished voice reached him. "I've had to be so strong."
"Of course you have, sugar."
"I've been running on adrenaline."
"God, what is that?" Had he driven her over the edge?
"Guess I didn't realize I've been—"
"What, sugar? What?"
"So scared," she finally admitted in a choked voice.
Something inside Sam died at that moment. He could have shot himself. There it was at last—the cause of her pain. Of course she'd been strong—she'd had no choice with her life on the line. Now at last all the fear and vulnerability were pouring out of her. Fear he had caused.
And he loathed himself for it through and through.
"Christ, I'm a bastard," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Inexplicably she clutched him tighter. "Just keep holding me, okay?"
Tenderness tore at the deepest reaches of Sam's heart. She was so sweet, so trusting when he so little deserved it. He could have wept with her. All he could do was to try to soothe her as she'd asked. His lips roved over her face, tasting her tears.
"Sugar, please don't cry. Don't be afraid. It's over now. We'll get through this somehow—together."
A little sob escaped her, and Sam couldn't bear it. His lips caught hers in an aching kiss. He pushed his tongue inside her warm mouth, and something inside him claimed her at that moment.
Hands trembling with need, Sam unbound Annie's hair and kissed the soft tresses. He trailed his lips down her smooth throat and pulled at her shirt buttons. She did not resist and, if anything, only encouraged him with sweet kisses and soft shudders. Emotion tightened his throat as she stroked his chest with her soft, tantalizing hands and kneaded his tight shoulder muscles with her fingers. Impatiently, he tugged off her shirt, his eyes growing black with desire as he stared at her bare breasts, at her nipples already tight with arousal. He leaned over and hungrily took one of the tautened peaks in his mouth. She sobbed in ecstasy.
"Easy, darlin', easy."
By now, Annie wanted Sam so badly she hurt with the sheer intensity of it. The overwhelming intimacy of their joining—his wet mouth on her breast, his hard belly crushing hers, his manhood imprinting her pelvis—was almost more than she could bear. The roughness of his whiskery skin against her delicate breast sent shivers streaking all over her. She whimpered with desire, thrusting her fingers into his thick, soft hair. Even as she tried to catch her breath his mouth passionately seized hers, his kiss intimate and drugging.
When he pulled back, she leaned forward to kiss a tuft of dark hair on his chest, then planted her lips in the sexy notch in his chin, thrilling to his harsh moans. She reached upward to catch him about his nape, and she drew his mouth down to hers, inviting his plunder with her tongue.
She could feel passion shaking him then. When his fingers moved to the buttons at her waist, she shivered with anticipation. She reached between their bodies to touch his manhood through his trousers, feeling its proportions, its rigidity. Her mouth went dry.
"Heavens, you're going to feel so good."
Sam sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers reaching down to clasp Annie's. He was drowning in her. He kissed her ravenously as he pulled off her jeans and drawers, and quickly freed his stiff manhood. He reached down to caress the warm, downy place between her thighs, glorying when she opened to him and writhed shamelessly against his finger.
"You're damp. You want me," he whispered raggedly. "Now I want to feel all of you wrapped tight around me."
"You will," she promised hoarsely.
Kissing her again, Sam pushed his aching member inside her. Such heaven. There was no virginal membrane, but she was tight, warm. He penetrated her slowly, struggling to rein in his raging desires, listening to her little sighs and whimpers, alert to any sound that he might be hurting her. At last, with a frantic groan, he buried himself in her, felt her hot velvety womanflesh grip him, heard her ragged gasp . . . and looked down to see her face all lit up!
Incredible joy pulsed through Sam. "Why are you smiling, woman?"
"Because of you, bounty hunter," she whispered back. "You're larger than life in every way."
Sam's reply was a shout of jubilation, and then he became lost in her again.
Annie reeled in pleasure as Sam withdrew and plunged again. Incoherent moans escaped her as she felt the throbbing tension of her own tissues, the glorious pressure of being possessed by him so thoroughly. She tossed her head and shuddered, sensual shockwaves rippling downward through her body and ending in a sensual wiggle at the base of her spine. That unconscious provocation brought his mouth down hard on hers as he pulled back, then thrust repeatedly, devouring her.
She tossed her head and cried out, a sound caught between desperation and a wild need for fulfillment. His mouth eased over hers, both comforting and tenderly demanding her surrender.
After a moment she looked up to see him smiling at her, and overwhelming love welled in her. Wild, fierce, sexy, and strong, her bounty hunter possessed her with riveting power and vitality. How wondrous it felt to be one with him. Their bodies grew slick with sweat as he moved to and fro, rubbing her breasts, her belly, and deliciously abrading the velvety sheath that tightened about him even as he swelled relentlessly inside her.
Neither could bear the building excitement, their frantic cries finding release in an aching kiss. Annie felt the exquisite melting deep inside herself even as the first convulsions of her climax carried her away; she locked her thighs about Sam's, mated her mouth with his, and eagerly met his thrusts.
Perched above her, Sam could barely breathe. Annie was incredible, so hot and snug and passionate, her supple body coiled about his with an eagerness that touched his heart and stoked the hot fever inside him. He had known women before, but he'd never made love with a woman who had given herself to him so completely. His restraint broken; he held Annie to him desperately and pressed home, losing himself in a paroxysm of rapture that shook him to his core . . .
***
Later, while Annie slept, Sam donned his jeans and shirt and sat down on the blanket next to her, smoking a cheroot. He smiled at the sight of her lovely, content face outlined in moonlight, and reached out to smooth her mussed hair away from her face. Such pleasure she'd brought him tonight, even as her turmoil and vulnerability had torn him apart. He felt such tenderness toward her, and—dare he even think it?—such love.
He drew the cheroot to his lips with trembling fingers. This woman had certainly turned his life, and all his emotions, topsy-turvy. She had given herself to him in genuine passion, and he wanted to believe everything she'd told him. But she hadn't been a virgin, a fact that argued against her being a righteous innocent. Of course, Sam would have expected an outlaw to be a soiled dove, but in his experience, decent women were always chaste.
But then, Annie Dillon had certainly defied all Sam's previous notions about decent womanhood. Although she had broken through his defenses, he still wasn't sure he could believe her. Was she a liar, or could there be a grain of truth in the bizarre story she was telling him? Was she right that he couldn't deal with a woman who was as strong as he was? Assuming he could get her out of the mess she was in, could they make a go of a life together, or would they be like two shooting stars, colliding and burning each other out?
Sam had no easy answers. He only knew he recoiled at the thought of losing her now.