No Place to Run (KGI #2)(47)

Puzzled by the sudden discomfort that crossed Sam’s face, she cocked her head to the side.

“Did I say something wrong?”

He recovered quickly and shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m glad you feel safe. I want you to feel safe.”

She glanced around at the empty cabin and lifted her hands. “So what do we do? Play cards? Monopoly?”

Though it was a joke, a tingle of excitement jolted through her at the idea of doing something so simple as play childhood games, games that Sam had probably played a million times growing up. She’d never done such mundane things. Never had those moments of playful, mindless fun.

He chuckled. “I need to get back with Steele and make sure the perimeter is secure, see what if any concerns he has. I’m afraid I didn’t pack cards or Monopoly, but we can always play truth or dare.”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and grinned. It transformed his face from serious hard-ass to light and playful. Her heart fluttered. He really was extraordinarily good-looking.

“I’ve never played truth or dare, but it sounds interesting.”

His eyes widened in mock horror. “Never? Your education has been sorely neglected. What about spin the bottle?”

She solemnly shook her head.

“I can give you the abbreviated version of both games. You end up in a closet kissing me with my hand up your shirt.”

She held a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle. “If that’s supposed to warn me off, I’m afraid it didn’t do the job.”

His blue eyes went molten, and he swaggered closer to her. He chucked her chin upward with his knuckle and then fused his lips to hers in a long, hot kiss.

She leaned in closer, her knees going weak. She loved his taste. Loved the slight bristle of beard stubble over her chin. She loved how he smelled—couldn’t put a name on it—but it was a heady mixture of blatant masculinity and comfort. If she could bottle it, she’d make a fortune.

He drew away long enough to touch her swollen lips with the tip of his finger.

“Hold that thought,” he murmured. “I’ll be back and we can take up where we left off. I’ll even trade the closet for the bedroom.”

She parted her lips and nibbled at his finger, then sucked it inward. He stiffened and his pupils dilated. Let him imagine her mouth around his cock. It would give him something to think about.

With a saucy grin, she let his finger fall away, and she started in the direction of the bedroom.

“I’ll be waiting,” she called back. “In the closet.”

His bark of laughter followed her as she stepped into the small bedroom.

She hadn’t seen anyone when they’d driven up, but there had been another vehicle parked on the side of the cabin. She knew they were here—somewhere—but she was happy to hold on to the illusion of privacy for her and Sam.

Sam could do his thing, check in with his team. She knew he’d see to their safety. She trusted him, which was an odd—and new—sensation for her. Trust wasn’t a word she’d even contemplated before. But she decided she liked it. She liked it very much.

SAM entered the bedroom to find it empty. The sound of running water reached his ears, and he followed the trail of clothing on the floor from the bed to the bathroom. He smiled when he stepped into the bathroom and saw Sophie’s silhouette behind the glass door of the shower.

He ducked back out and positioned his radio and the sat phone on the small dresser for easy access, and then he went back into the bathroom. When he heard the water turn off, he swiped a towel from the rack and waited for Sophie to open the shower door.

A fist slammed into his gut when the door swung open and he saw her standing there, her water-slicked body glowing in the light. She looked up and her wide, startled eyes met his gaze.

God but she was beautiful. Droplets slid down her neck, over the swell of her br**sts and then to the swollen mound of her belly. He couldn’t get enough of simply watching her.

Mechanically he moved forward and held the towel open for her to step into. Shivering, she melted into his arms, and he wrapped the towel around her and then rubbed briskly to dry her.

The towel fell to the floor, and his hands glided over her warm, soft skin.

“I just want to touch you,” he said. “I can’t get enough of how you feel.”

She moaned and arched into his hands like a cat wanting to be rubbed. The tips of her br**sts brushed over his shirt, and he suddenly wanted to be as naked as she was.

He positioned his hands underneath her br**sts and then turned his palms up to cup the swells. The motion plumped them up and her ni**les puckered and grew hard. He had to taste them, wanted them in his mouth. He wanted to suck them and let her sweet taste explode on his tongue.

Impatiently he hoisted her into his arms, swiveled around and started to set her down on the counter next to the sink.

“Shit,” he murmured.

He put her down, grabbed the towel and quickly spread it over the cool tile. Then he lifted her again and eased her down on the towel.

“Perfect.”

He lowered his head to one pink-tipped breast. He blew over it gently, watching it in fascination as it puckered again. She shivered in reaction and leaned back to give him better access.

He swiped his tongue over the crest. Velvety. He loved the way it felt in his mouth, loved the way she tensed and danced under his touch. She was so honest in her response and didn’t shy away. She gave everything to him.