Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(118)

The only thing on the wall was a framed black and white photo of a headshot of Walter Payton wearing a white headband and looking over his Bears jersey covered, shoulder padded shoulder, his handsome face reflective.

It was an awesome picture.

Sam was asleep. I knew this from his breathing but also from the feel of him. You could sense his power always even if he was only in the vicinity. Now his power was shut down.

Memphis was also asleep. I knew this because she was pressed to the small of my back and immobile.

So I had time. Time to decide what to do about Sam.

But I didn’t need time. It came to me immediately.

And what came to me was that I had time.

Time to convince him he could trust me. Time to prove to him he could give me his secrets, open his heart, show me his soul and I’d take care of it just like he was taking care of mine. Time in his capable hands to put myself back together and give him the real me.

We were new, I reminded myself. I needed to give him time. I needed to give him me without expecting more than he was already giving me. And I needed to work toward gaining his trust.

No more tantrums. No more dramas. No more pushing.

It would come.

In the meantime, I needed to keep my promise and take him how he could give himself to me.

Because, seriously, what did I have to complain about?

On this thought I pressed into him, putting my lips to his chest, gliding them up to his shoulder, his neck then to his jaw.

His arm around my waist tightened and he pulled me mostly on his body.

He was awake.

Time to get to work.

I lifted my head and looked down into his beautiful eyes with their spiky, thick lashes, eyes that were now languid and thus hotter than their usual hot and I grinned.

“I like your picture of Sweetness.”

His arm got tighter and his lips turned up slightly at the ends. “You know Payton?”

“Who doesn’t know Payton?”

“Thought you weren’t into football, honey.”

“You don’t have to be into football to know Walter Payton was the best running back the game has ever seen.”

His lip turn got bigger. “You know what a running back is?”

“No, but my guess is they run and I definitely know Sweetness could run.”

His body shook with his chuckle as he rolled, taking me to my back, making Memphis scoot away and ending with him mostly on me.

My fingers started exploring his back as his hand ran up my neck, his fingers sliding into my hair from the bottom, his thumb extended to stroke my jaw as I kept talking.

“I like your bedroom too.”

“Good,” Sam murmured, dipping his head and running the side of his nose along the side of mine.

He’d never done that. I liked it. It was sweet.

“And your whole house,” I whispered.

His lips swept my lips then he whispered back, “Good.”

“And your view,” I kept going.

“Good,” he repeated on a mutter, his whole hand slid up into my hair, cupping then tilting my head, his slanted the other way and he kissed me.

I planted a foot in the bed, heaved up, Sam let me roll him so I was on top and I did this all while kissing him back.

Then I lifted my head and informed him, “But if you have a Ferrari in your garage, that’s a deal breaker.”

Sam burst out laughing. I watched for a couple of seconds, smiling down at him then I dropped my head and kissed him again. He laughed into my mouth for a second, I liked the feel of it, then he quit laughing, took over and it got heated.

When his mouth broke from mine, I was breathing harder and focusing on his lips gliding to my ear where he murmured, “Got a Ford F-150 supercrew cab. That work for you?”

My lips had landed on his neck, my mind vaguely processing I had no freaking clue what a supercrew cab was, though I did know what a Ford F-150 was, so I mumbled, “Mm-hmm.”

“Good,” he mumbled back.

My lips decided they wanted to move down, so they did. Then they decided they wanted to explore, so they did. Then they decided to further their exploration, so they did. Finally, I slid between Sam’s legs, he opened them and cocked his knees, giving me unfettered access. I took him in my hand and didn’t delay and sliding him in my mouth.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned, both his hands sifting in my hair on the sides, pulling it back and fisting in it.

My eyes tipped up to him to see his eyes on me. He always watched me working him. He liked how I worked him, he liked to watch and it must be said, so did I.

I slid him out, held him to my lips, rolled the tip with my tongue and he pushed off on his heels, taking himself (and me) up the bed until his shoulders were to the headboard so he could more easily watch.

Since he was in position, I gave him a show.

He was liking it in a big way which was about as much as I was liking it and I knew from experience he was close to ending the show and taking over. This was another way I considered Sam a gentleman. He always finished in me and he only finished after he made me do the same. He might allow me to give and in so doing take but he never took it all unless he’d given it all to me.

I loved that about him.

And just when his growls were going so deep I could feel them in my mouth through his cock, the feel corresponding wet gathering between my legs, his phone on his bedside table rang.