Hot as Sin
Page 36
Why hadn’t she stopped herself? Wasn’t she older? Wiser?
Shouldn’t she have known better than to dance this close to the scalding flames?
But just as she was trying to close the lid on her feelings for Sam, forever this time, she heard it again, a voice in her head saying, You fought for your sister. You fought for your career. Maybe this time you should fight for Sam.
A combination of feeling sorry for her and being scared shitless by almost losing her in the river had made him act stupidly. He’d been so glad she was alive, he’d given in to the urge to see if she tasted as good now as she always had.
Only to find out that she was so much sweeter than any of his memories.
Touching her, kissing her, hearing her cry out in ecstasy had taken Sam straight to the edge, even though his clothes were still on and he’d only gotten to third base. But then, when she turned the tables and started kissing him, it had been nearly impossible for him to stop, to take a frickin’ breath and remember why making love to Dianna was a terrible idea.
From deep in his subconscious, Connor’s voice rose up and nailed him. “She’s bad for you, man. And you were royally f**ked-up after she left. I don’t want to see you like that again.”
Jesus, how could he have forgotten? At this rate, he’d end up with far more than he’d bargained for when he’d agreed to help find her sister. Much more than some incredibly hot sex against a rock.
He’d end up back in love with her.
And then when she left him to go back to her glossy, celebrity-soaked world, he’d be staring straight into a black hole again.
Getting kicked in the heart once in a lifetime was enough for him, thanks.
The sick feeling in the pit of his gut grew as she scrambled away from him. He forced himself to stand up and take a step away from her, even though he was desperate to make her come again.
“I screwed up, Dianna.” Each repentant word was harder to spit out than the last. “I lost control and acted stupid.”
A heavy silence hung between them as she stared at him with unblinking green eyes, not saying anything.
“Fortunately, we’re almost to the end of the river,” he said, hoping that getting back on task would permanently halt this twisted game they were playing. “If all goes well, we might be able to get to the commune by tonight.”
Hurt and confusion flashed across her face at his emotionless, businesslike words. He was back to playing ass**le again. Making her come and then shutting down the second her orgasm was over.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t see any other way to proceed.
Needing to break out of her sexual force field, he turned around and strode into the water to retrieve the raft. Minutes later, he was disconcerted to note that her eyes remained glued to him as he dragged it through the cold water and up onto the shore.
“Maybe it wasn’t a mistake, Sam.”
She paused, licked her lips, giving him just enough time to run through everything that had happened against the rock, all the places he’d kissed and touched.
“Maybe what happened was inevitable. Maybe you and I are inevitable.”
Desire tightened around him with each word. He never should have kissed her. Never should have told her that he couldn’t stop himself from wanting her.
“No,” he said, acting instinctively to stop the pull. “You and I were over ten years ago. We’re here to find April. That’s it.”
He watched her flinch at his hard words, but instead of telling him he was a jerk like any other woman would have, she took a step closer.
“I wanted it just as much as you did,” she said, refusing to back down, to take no for an answer. “After everything we talked about last night and this morning, I think we agree that we’re different people now. We both lived through the miscarriage. We lived through the breakup. I know why you acted the way you did. And you know why I acted the way I did.”
Another step closer.
“I’ve never cared about another man, Sam. Only you.”
So close that he could reach out and pull her into a kiss.
“Tell me you love someone else—tell me you’ve loved anyone else like you loved me—and I’ll drop it.”
He knew the lie he needed to tell to shut her down forever, but standing on the banks of the Colorado River with her sweet scent lingering on his fingers, he just couldn’t do it.
“There isn’t anybody else,” he admitted. “There’s never been anyone else.”
Her eyes flashed hope, and he forced himself to say, “But whether we’ve loved other people doesn’t matter, Dianna. This is still a bad idea.”
He watched as she pulled back her shoulders, straightened her spine, and tilted her chin, gearing up for a battle.
“You say we were over ten years ago, but you touch me like we’re just getting started,” she challenged. “Give me one good reason we shouldn’t try again.”
Fuck. Thus far he’d been able to keep his period of self-destruction buried. But she’d never drop the notion of getting back together, of trying again, if he didn’t lay everything on the line.
“When you left—”
Shit, sacrificing his pride was harder than he’d thought it would be.
“I fought every goddamned fire this side of the Mississippi, but I just couldn’t get over you.”
She took another step closer, coming only inches away. “I couldn’t get over you either, Sam.”
He held up a hand to halt her forward momentum. “You asked for a reason and I’m giving you one. You went to San Francisco and grabbed a better life with both hands. I almost threw mine away.”
Confusion furrowed her brows. “What are you talking about? You’re still a hotshot. Still living in Tahoe surrounded by your friends, your crew, and your brother.”
“I almost lost it all, Dianna. I jumped straight into a black hole, wanted it to swallow me up.”
Shaking her head as if nothing he was saying made sense, she said, “I don’t get it. What do you mean, black hole?”
He ran his hands through his hair, hating every second of soul baring. He would have happily given up a limb instead.
“After you left, I reverted to the same place I was in during high school. But worse. More drinking. More all-nighters. Waking up and not knowing where I was. Skipping out on the rest of the crew. Not showing up for fires and working half-assed and hungover when I managed to get up the mountain.”
Shouldn’t she have known better than to dance this close to the scalding flames?
But just as she was trying to close the lid on her feelings for Sam, forever this time, she heard it again, a voice in her head saying, You fought for your sister. You fought for your career. Maybe this time you should fight for Sam.
A combination of feeling sorry for her and being scared shitless by almost losing her in the river had made him act stupidly. He’d been so glad she was alive, he’d given in to the urge to see if she tasted as good now as she always had.
Only to find out that she was so much sweeter than any of his memories.
Touching her, kissing her, hearing her cry out in ecstasy had taken Sam straight to the edge, even though his clothes were still on and he’d only gotten to third base. But then, when she turned the tables and started kissing him, it had been nearly impossible for him to stop, to take a frickin’ breath and remember why making love to Dianna was a terrible idea.
From deep in his subconscious, Connor’s voice rose up and nailed him. “She’s bad for you, man. And you were royally f**ked-up after she left. I don’t want to see you like that again.”
Jesus, how could he have forgotten? At this rate, he’d end up with far more than he’d bargained for when he’d agreed to help find her sister. Much more than some incredibly hot sex against a rock.
He’d end up back in love with her.
And then when she left him to go back to her glossy, celebrity-soaked world, he’d be staring straight into a black hole again.
Getting kicked in the heart once in a lifetime was enough for him, thanks.
The sick feeling in the pit of his gut grew as she scrambled away from him. He forced himself to stand up and take a step away from her, even though he was desperate to make her come again.
“I screwed up, Dianna.” Each repentant word was harder to spit out than the last. “I lost control and acted stupid.”
A heavy silence hung between them as she stared at him with unblinking green eyes, not saying anything.
“Fortunately, we’re almost to the end of the river,” he said, hoping that getting back on task would permanently halt this twisted game they were playing. “If all goes well, we might be able to get to the commune by tonight.”
Hurt and confusion flashed across her face at his emotionless, businesslike words. He was back to playing ass**le again. Making her come and then shutting down the second her orgasm was over.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t see any other way to proceed.
Needing to break out of her sexual force field, he turned around and strode into the water to retrieve the raft. Minutes later, he was disconcerted to note that her eyes remained glued to him as he dragged it through the cold water and up onto the shore.
“Maybe it wasn’t a mistake, Sam.”
She paused, licked her lips, giving him just enough time to run through everything that had happened against the rock, all the places he’d kissed and touched.
“Maybe what happened was inevitable. Maybe you and I are inevitable.”
Desire tightened around him with each word. He never should have kissed her. Never should have told her that he couldn’t stop himself from wanting her.
“No,” he said, acting instinctively to stop the pull. “You and I were over ten years ago. We’re here to find April. That’s it.”
He watched her flinch at his hard words, but instead of telling him he was a jerk like any other woman would have, she took a step closer.
“I wanted it just as much as you did,” she said, refusing to back down, to take no for an answer. “After everything we talked about last night and this morning, I think we agree that we’re different people now. We both lived through the miscarriage. We lived through the breakup. I know why you acted the way you did. And you know why I acted the way I did.”
Another step closer.
“I’ve never cared about another man, Sam. Only you.”
So close that he could reach out and pull her into a kiss.
“Tell me you love someone else—tell me you’ve loved anyone else like you loved me—and I’ll drop it.”
He knew the lie he needed to tell to shut her down forever, but standing on the banks of the Colorado River with her sweet scent lingering on his fingers, he just couldn’t do it.
“There isn’t anybody else,” he admitted. “There’s never been anyone else.”
Her eyes flashed hope, and he forced himself to say, “But whether we’ve loved other people doesn’t matter, Dianna. This is still a bad idea.”
He watched as she pulled back her shoulders, straightened her spine, and tilted her chin, gearing up for a battle.
“You say we were over ten years ago, but you touch me like we’re just getting started,” she challenged. “Give me one good reason we shouldn’t try again.”
Fuck. Thus far he’d been able to keep his period of self-destruction buried. But she’d never drop the notion of getting back together, of trying again, if he didn’t lay everything on the line.
“When you left—”
Shit, sacrificing his pride was harder than he’d thought it would be.
“I fought every goddamned fire this side of the Mississippi, but I just couldn’t get over you.”
She took another step closer, coming only inches away. “I couldn’t get over you either, Sam.”
He held up a hand to halt her forward momentum. “You asked for a reason and I’m giving you one. You went to San Francisco and grabbed a better life with both hands. I almost threw mine away.”
Confusion furrowed her brows. “What are you talking about? You’re still a hotshot. Still living in Tahoe surrounded by your friends, your crew, and your brother.”
“I almost lost it all, Dianna. I jumped straight into a black hole, wanted it to swallow me up.”
Shaking her head as if nothing he was saying made sense, she said, “I don’t get it. What do you mean, black hole?”
He ran his hands through his hair, hating every second of soul baring. He would have happily given up a limb instead.
“After you left, I reverted to the same place I was in during high school. But worse. More drinking. More all-nighters. Waking up and not knowing where I was. Skipping out on the rest of the crew. Not showing up for fires and working half-assed and hungover when I managed to get up the mountain.”
