The Watson Brothers. Lori Foster

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СКАЧАТЬ he warned, knowing if she started telling him what she wanted again, he’d lose the fight. He moved off her, opened her legs wide and repositioned himself between them, on his knees so he could drape her legs over his. “That’s better.”

      Those beautiful hazel eyes of hers, now more topaz than brown, watched him without blinking, conveying some silent message that he damn well didn’t want to hear. Her mouth looked puffy and soft and kissable. Her small chin quivered, but not because she might cry. No, he knew Ariel wouldn’t do that.

      Probably it quivered with stubbornness.

      “I like to see a woman, all of her, when I take her,” he explained. Her legs draped his, white against his dark slacks, sleek and lightly muscled. He looked at her breasts. Earlier her nipples had been velvety soft, but once he’d touched them, they’d stayed puckered, begging for his mouth.

      She lightly licked her lips, luring him. Bracing his hands on the pillow at either side of her head, Sam bent down and savaged her mouth with ruthless hunger, kissing her hard, thrusting his tongue between her teeth. She didn’t fight him or pull back. No, she accepted his tongue, sucked on it, returned his kiss with equal passion.

      He groaned, aware of her straining up to him, trying to get more of him. Her thighs were tensed, her belly lifting into him.

      He pulled himself away and took his pleasure at her breasts. He loved suckling a woman and could be content to spend an hour on her nipples alone. But not this time. As soon as Ariel started writhing, he moved lower, nibbling on her ribs, then lower still until he could dip his tongue into her navel.

      She held her breath, anticipating what he might do, he knew. Did she like oral sex? Had any man ever kissed her between her thighs? He hoped not. He wanted to be the first.

      “Wider,” he said as he pressed her legs farther apart and held them in place when she would have automatically brought them together again. He glanced up at her still face, flushed but uncertain. “Keep them that way.”

      Using his fingertips, he opened her lips, exposing her glistening pink flesh. Her clitoris was swollen from her recent climax, extra sensitive. Gently, he kissed her, heard her shocked, eager gasp, and he closed his mouth around the tender bud.

      With a hoarse cry, she nearly lurched away, but he cupped her hips firmly in his big hands and held her secure. Because he knew her nerve endings were already tingling, still alive from her last orgasm, he was very careful not to push her too fast, to cause her any discomfort. He suckled softly, easily, taking his time, stroking with his tongue. When she was ready for more, her legs stiffened and her arms pulled tight against her bonds.

      “Sam,” she said, all breathless and low. “Sam, Sam, Sam…”

      Her cries were raw, real, and he loved it, the way she responded, the pleasure he gave her so easily. She didn’t hold back at all, didn’t try to temper her response. He replaced his mouth with his fingers and raised his head to see her face.

      Her neck was arched, her teeth clenched, her breasts heaving. “Beautiful,” he breathed, ready to come just from looking at her. After endless moments, she quieted, and Sam moved up beside her, smoothed her hair from her face, placed a kiss on her open lips.

      “That was nice.” He waited, but she didn’t open her eyes, didn’t reply. Sam smiled. “For a youngin’, you come with a lot of energy. I like it.”

      Sweat glistened on her chest, the tops of her cheekbones. A rosy flush covered her body and her heart still raced. With an obvious effort, she licked her lips, swallowed, and said, “Shut up, Sam.”

      He grinned, fighting off a chuckle. “You’re not supposed to talk.”

      She cast him a wanton look that nearly did him in. “No? I’ve never been handcuffed before, Officer. What should I be doing?”

      Sam lowered his hand to her belly and felt it hollow out when she dragged in a breath. “Rest. You’re going to need your strength.”

      “I am?”

      “Mmm. I’ll give you a few minutes before we start again.”

      Her eyes widened, darkened. “Start…? Sam, no. I…I can’t.”

      He pushed his hand lower until he cupped her mound. She was slick, very wet and pulsing with heat. “Yes you can.” All the teasing left him. “I’ll see to it.”

      She squeezed her eyes shut. “Sam…”

      “Crying uncle?”

      A sob almost rose in her throat, but she managed to swallow it back. Sam watched her closely, waiting for the words he needed to hear, waiting for her to tell him to fuck off, to get out of her life once and for all.

      “No. I’m not crying uncle.”

      They watched each other, at a stalemate, until finally Sam cursed. “Fine. Have it your way.” His fingers curled against her, his middle finger sinking past her creamy wetness, into her up to his first knuckle—and someone rang his doorbell.

      They both jerked to a breathless, astonished standstill. Their motions were frozen.

      Ariel gasped, “You have company?”

      Sam shoved himself off the bed and stalked to the window, barely moving the curtain aside to peer out. “Ah fuck.”

      A loud knock sounded.

      He turned to Ariel, took in the sight of her handcuffed naked to his bed and knew he’d just screwed up royally.

      “Who is it?” she whispered in a fearful voice.

      Sam rubbed his face. “It’s Pete.”

      “Ohmigod.” She began jerking and twisting. “Let me loose!”

      He walked past her. “No, just be quiet. I’ll get rid of him and be right back. I promise.” He snatched up his shirt and pulled it on.

      “Sam!” Her face went white. “Don’t you dare leave me here like—”

      He held a finger to his lips. “Shhh. You made a deal, Ariel. Now keep it. If you’re real quiet, Pete will never know you’re here.” He pulled the door shut, aware of her distress—and aware of his own regret. But she did fall silent, thank God.

      He closed the door and trotted quickly down the stairs. His brain churned, trying to think of what to say, how to explain Ariel’s car in his driveway, how to get rid of his baby brother.

      Pete knocked again, growing impatient.

      “All right already, give it a rest.” Sam threw the door open. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

      Pete, looking healthy and happy and in something of a hurry, burst in and said, “I need the keys to Gil’s boat.”

      “What?”

      His black hair was mussed, his shirt untucked and he had a hickey on his neck. “Gil’s out of town, but he said I could use his boat only I don’t have a spare key and you do.”

      “Gil’s out of town?”

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