He leans out the window with a grin. “I’ll be back Wednesday. Try not to blow the place up before then.”
“No promises,” Sam calls back, and Liam drives off with a wave.
The three of us carry our bags across the freshly cleared path to Sam’s truck. The sky is a bright, startling blue, and everything smells like damp earth and pine. It feels new. Fresh. Like we stepped out of one world and into another.
As soon as we’re inside the house, Phern squeals from the hallway.
“Power’s on!” she shouts, bolting toward her room. “I’m going to check the Wi-Fi!”
Sam glances at me, grinning. “She’s going to disappear for the rest of the day if it’s working.”
I arch a brow, feigning innocence. “Oh? And however will we entertain ourselves?”
His smile turns wicked, slow and deliberate. “I believe I caught a glimpse of something pink in one of those bags. Pretty sure it’s been calling my name since you picked it up.”
I bite my lip, heat blooming under my skin. “Is that so?”
He takes a slow step closer, voice dropping low. “Ten minutes, darlin’. That’s all I’m giving you.”
My grip tightens on the bag as I back away, heading toward the bedroom with a coy smile. “Then you better be ready.”
“I’m always ready,” he calls after me, his voice full of promise.
And God help me I believe him.
I close the bedroom door behind me and set the bag on the bed, fingers tingling with anticipation as I dig out the lingerie. The pink, delicate lace set practically glows against the flannel sheets. It’s soft as air with just enough daring to make me blush.
I strip slowly, the air cool against my skin, every inch I uncover building the tension coiled in my stomach. I catch my reflection in the mirror. Bare legs, flushed skin, lace hugging every curve. I feel bold.
I crack the door and call softly, “Sam?”
His response is immediate. “Yeah?”
“You can come in now.”
The doorknob turns, and there he is, filling the doorway, eyes sweeping over me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
“Holy hell,” he breathes, voice roughened by awe.
He steps inside slowly, like he doesn’t want to startle the moment. His gaze tracks every inch of me, heat simmering behind those stormy eyes.
“You like it?” I ask, my voice soft but sure.
His lips twitch into something hungry. “Darlin’, I’m trying real hard not to drop to my knees right now.”
I smile, taking a step toward him. “Then don’t try so hard.”
And that’s all it takes.
He closes the distance like a man walking into a dream. His hands find my waist, fingers brushing reverently over the lace like it’s spun from something sacred. His gaze flickers up to mine, dark and undone, and then his mouth finds mine.
The kiss starts slow, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of me. But it doesn’t stay soft for long. Heat floods in, raw and aching, as his hands slide up my sides, curling around my ribs. He groans against my mouth as he lifts me effortlessly, laying me back against the mattress like I’m something precious. And then he’s on me, his mouth at my throat, breath hot, teeth grazing skin, and my bra coming off fast, leaving me in the panties.
The panties aren’t so much removed as pulled aside, kissed through, undone inch by inch with a kind of worship that steals my breath. Every brush of his lips over lace, every drag of his fingertips along skin is deliberate. Slow. Designed to unravel.
“You have no idea,” he murmurs into the hollow of my throat, “how long I’ve been thinking about this.”
His voice is low and wrecked, rough as gravel, and it makes my toes curl. I arch into him, hands tangling in his hair, his name already falling from my lips in a whisper that barely holds together.
