Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(36)

And while he was telling me this and I was giggling, he was running his fingers through my hair.

That felt nicer and, staring at myself in the mirror, it settled in my soul how much nicer it felt not only last night but right then, remembering it.

Okay. I was either seriously in trouble or…

I was seriously not.

I stared into my eyes in the mirror and as I did I found my lips whispering, “Fearless.”

Then I pulled in a breath, turned from the mirror, switched off the light and exited the bathroom, moving to the double, arched, windowed doors with their gossamer curtains, my eyes on a still sleeping, still beautiful Sam.

I got to the doors and opened them, stepping out on the small, stone balcony, the curtain falling behind me and I drank in the view.

Wherever you are, however you got there, if it’s good, you’re meant to be there either because you earned it or life led you there and you were smart enough to hold on.

Sam’s words came back to me and no longer drunk on champagne or the beauty of being held in his arms, I realized that Sampson Cooper was a great many things, nearly all of them good but one of them was wise.

On this thought, two arms closed around me from behind and I was pulled into a long, hard body as a stubbled chin swept my hair from the side of my neck right before lips whispered there, “Mornin’, baby.”

Those two words slid over my skin, coating it, again giving me a glorious moment of feeling invincible.

Wherever you are, however you got there, if it’s good, you’re meant to be there either because you earned it or life led you there and you were smart enough to hold on.

I closed my eyes.

Then I whispered back, “Morning.”

Sam’s arms turned me to facing him, I opened my eyes then his body pressed mine into the balustrade as I tipped my head back to look at him and see his eyes were already moving over me.

Then they came to mine and he whispered, “Right now, honey, I’m gonna kiss you.”

My stomach clutched.

Oh God.

Okay. Oh God. All right.

I was supposed to be fearless but right then, I… was… not.

“Sam –” I started but his head dropped until his lips were light on mine and I shut up.

“No,” he said quietly, his lips moving against my lips, my heart stopped beating and his voice dropped super low, super rough, it was rich velvet when he went on. “No, baby, you fell asleep before I could taste this mouth. I’m not gonna miss another chance.”

Then he slanted his head and kissed me.

I instantly freaked out.

This was not because Sampson Cooper, my fantasy man obsession was kissing me. Sam had become way more than just that, he wasn’t even close to that anymore.

This was because, except for a couple of guys in high school and some other guys who didn’t count during spin the bottle at parties in junior high, I had kissed no one but Cooter. I grew not to like the way he kissed then I grew not to want him to kiss me and I learned quickly that if I didn’t kiss him back in a way he’d like, he’d give up trying.

So I didn’t know if I even knew how to kiss. I’d forgotten or never really learned.

And I needed at that moment in my life not only to be able to do it but to be able to do it really, really well.

And needing it and freaking out about it, my head filled with garbage and I blew it.

I knew it by feeling it and I knew it when Sam’s mouth broke from mine, his head came up, I opened my eyes and saw his, for the first time since I met him, were guarded.

Oh God.

Oh God!

Sam had just kissed me, it was awful and it was also all my fault.

God!

I was mortified. Total humiliation. So bad, I couldn’t bear it.

So I didn’t.

I had to escape.

So I did.

I ducked my head, jerked sideways out of his arms and skirted him, heading toward the bedroom, all the while mumbling, “I need to find Luci and ask if I can use –”

I didn’t get to the bedroom and I didn’t finish mumbling.

I found my hand caught in Sam’s firm grip and my arm tugged, hard enough to change the direction I was going, not hard enough to hurt. I flew backward and as my body moved, Sam twisted my arm so my body twisted with it and my arm was held behind me, my front slammed into his, his other hand came up, his fingers sifting into my hair, then fisting gently to tilt it to the side at the same time he pulled it back.

This shocked me, not in bad way. Oh no, not bad at all.

It was hot.

Then his mouth slammed down on mine.

Oh man.

That was hot too.

Then his tongue thrust into my mouth.

Oh man.

That wasn’t hot.

That was scorching.

And it burned through me from mouth to toes and even up into my hair, blistering. My belly plummeted, my br**sts swelled, my body melted into his, my arm wrapped around his shoulders to hold on and my tongue tangled with his because I liked what he was giving me but I wanted more.

When I did this, he growled into my mouth, his fist in my hair twisted, his fingers laced in mine doing the same, both I felt, not with pain, but with a fierce kind of possession I liked, oh God, yes, I liked it a lot. So much, I felt wet and heat flood between my legs, my hand glided up his neck to cup the back of his head and hold him to me and I pressed deep, returning the gift by moaning into his mouth.