Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(140)

His body went solid under mine.

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Shit!

I didn’t know what I expected but that was not the response I was hoping for.

“You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to pretend to feel it,” I said quickly moving my hand from his face to his shoulder. “I just wanted you to know –”

“Shut up,” he growled and I blinked.

“Sorry?”

He rolled so I was on my back, he was on top and he repeated, “Shut up.”

“Sam, I –”

His mouth hit mine. “Shut… up.”

Then he kissed me, hard, wet and demanding. Then I didn’t have my nightie or panties, all I had was Sam, his lips, his tongue, his hands all over me. Then, when I was whimpering into his mouth, my legs wrapped around his waist, arms clutching his back, his arm wrapped around the top of my hips, his finger building heaven between my legs and my whimpers got desperate with need, Sam felt it, heard it, knew it and being Sam, he gave it to me.

His arm around me tightened as he lifted up to his knees, taking me with him. He fell back to his calves, holding me suspended, one arm still around my hips, the other arm slanted across my upper back, fingers curled at my neck, tipping my head down. Then he drove his c**k up inside me, hard and deep as he drove me down on it, impaling me. Keeping my mouth to his, he kept powering deep at the same town he yanked me down and I gasped against his lips each beautiful time I took him.

Suddenly he stopped, grinding deep, mouth moving on mine, and asked, “You feel that?”

Oh yeah, I felt it. Definitely.

“Yes, baby.”

“That feel real?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Open your eyes, Kia,” he ordered, voice thick and I opened my eyes, looking into his so close, they felt like they were a part of me. Then he said, “I’m not pretending to feel anything.”

I felt my eyes get wider.

Ohmigod!

Did that mean –?

“I told you you have me and, Kia, honey, you have me.”

It did.

He loved me.

My limbs tightened around him, I opened my mouth to speak but he slanted his head and kissed me. Then he f**ked me. Then he made me come. Then he came.

And it was the best ever not because it was the best ever.

But because for the first time in my twenty-eight years I had fabulous sex with the man I loved…

The man who loved me.

* * * * *

Almost to dreamland, tucked close to Sam, feeling freaking phenomenal, Memphis sprawled on her side of the bed, in a voice gruff with oncoming sleep, Sam muttered, “It’s good you didn’t find a place in Heartmeadow, baby. Now you got nothin’ to sort back there and you’re just plain home.”

My eyes shot open.

Sam fell asleep.

Oh man.

Chapter Twenty-Three

You’ll Do

Two days later…

I stood at the bathroom basin brushing my teeth while Sam showered wondering how I got myself in my current mess.

This was to say, Sam thinking my declaration of love meant I was moving to North Carolina and then him telling everyone I was moving to North Carolina.

And I mean everyone.

Yesterday morning, I went downstairs only to be greeted by an excited Maris who pulled my surprised, uncomprehending body in her arms and cried, “How exciting for the both of you! Setting up house!”

Yes. That was what happened. My wide eyes moved over Maris’s shoulder and I saw Sam, who had been downstairs three whole minutes longer than me, was leaning against the counter, sipping coffee and grinning at us indulgently and he’d obviously shared this news right off the bat.

Maris’s embrace was followed by Hap wrapping his arms around me, picking me up off the floor, shaking me half a dozen times and stating, “I hang down here a lot, babe, so I hope you can cook.”

I had barely recovered from these when Luci and Celeste arrived and I knew Sam had made a call, I just couldn’t fathom when, because they arrived and Luci was beside herself with glee. This was evidenced by her racing straight to me, skidding to a halt on her stylish, flat sandals, grabbing my biceps, jumping up and down and shouting, “We’re practically neighbors!”

Celeste’s response was a little less exuberant but still openly happy.

What could I do?

I went with it.

It got worse.

And how it got worse was, over coffee and Maris’s pancake breakfast, while everyone was chatting about how fabulous it was that Sam and I had moved in together (yes, past tense), Sam’s phone rang and, for once, he didn’t move out of the room to take the call.

No.

Instead, standing by me where I sat on a stool at the kitchen bar, Sam swept my hair off my neck, left his arm around my shoulders and said, “Yeah, Ford, things are still cool. All good. Listen, Kia talked with me last night and she wants you and Essie, Kyle and Gitte to come out for a visit. Can you talk to Kyle and Essie about that? Set somethin’ up?” Pause then, “Right. Whenever you want, we got plenty of room.”

Yes, he said we got plenty of room. We!

Then my lungs froze when he went on to say, “Kia’ll need to arrange to have her shit moved here. We might come out and sort it or we might need you.” Pause then, “Yeah, she’s movin’ out here.” Pause then on a grin down at me which meant my father had somehow communicated his utter joy at Sam’s statement in the three seconds Sam was silent, “Yeah, Ford, it’s all good.”