Текст книги "Crazy Ever After"

Автор книги: Kelly Jamieson

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

“I think...someone was following me.”

He sucked in a breath. “Oh, for Chrissake.” He closed his eyes. His chest started to hurt again. She was determined to give him a heart attack.

“I don’t know if it was the same guy, but whoever he was, he was dark like him, wearing sunglasses. I started driving around, just to see, and he kept following me. He was staying back, and he was actually pretty good at it, but I got nervous, so I decided to come back to the hotel.”

“That’s why you looked like that when you walked in. Jesus.” He should have made her tell him right there and then what was going on, but his emotions—and hormones—had gotten the better of him, and instead, he’d dragged her up to her room to spank her and fuck her. Hell.

“That’s it,” he said determinedly. “We’re getting out of here. Right now. Next flight back.”

“No. I told you no, Travis.” She set her small jaw. “I’m going to see Javier and see if I can still make that deal. It’s going to help get us back on track.”

“It’s not worth our lives,” he gritted out. “Don’t be stupid, Samara.”

“You just told me I’m not stupid. You just told me you know I’m all grown up. I know I’ve made some mistakes. But I want to do this.”

He strode across the room and picked up the phone. Ten minutes later, he’d discovered the next flight back to the States was tomorrow night. He sighed, but booked them on it anyway.

He hung up and turned to face her. “We’re leaving tomorrow night.”

“We have tomorrow, then, to go the estate.”

He slowly shook his head. “Samara.”

“Come with me. Please, Travis.” Her eyes held his.

Hell. His resolve disintegrated beneath her clear green gaze. And the enticement of an incredible coffee bean. “Fine,” he growled. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

She smiled. Tipped her head. “Thank you. So, what should we do to pass the time until then?”

She slid off the bed, moved toward him, and dropped to her knees.

“Oh, hell.”

Her fingers encircled his cock, which swelled and lengthened at her touch. His blood surged hot in his veins, and lust exploded in his brain as her tongue played with the head, circling, rubbing against that sweet spot on the underside, licking up and down, getting him wet so she could slide the tight ring of her lips over him and down. Up. Back down. He closed his eyes, let his head drop back, and fisted her hair in his hands. Her mouth was a dream, a hot, wet, sucking dream. Sublime sensation consumed him, a fiery tortuous ecstasy, making his legs go weak. He widened his stance, bare feet planted on the thick carpet, and when her fingers slipped between his legs to fondle his balls, he almost lost it right then.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned. “Oh yeah. Lick them, honey. Lick my balls.” He released her hair with one hand and held his cock up and out of her way. She eagerly complied, her teasing tongue sending fiery waves over him, his skin tingling, his testicles drawing up so tight at her touch.

“Love this,” she murmured. “Love your cock. I love the taste of it, the feel of it in my mouth, so thick and heavy.”

Her words inflamed him, ecstatic sensations sliding through him.

“And I love your balls,” she continued. She nuzzled the hair at his groin, kissed his thigh, licked tenderly over the taut sac again and again, then took one testicle into her mouth and sucked. Pressure built, and tingles slid up his spine, his fingers tightening in her hair. “How big and tight they are. Mmmm.”

Her pleasure at giving him pleasure was like the biggest imaginable stroke to his ego, making him feel fucking on top of the world. There was nothing, nothing in the world, hotter than a woman who loved sex like this. Samara, usually so bossy and in control, now on her knees in front of him clearly loving what she was doing, should have seemed subservient, but at that moment, he was the one who felt at her mercy, completely, utterly vulnerable, like he’d do any damn thing in the world for her.

He was crazy about her.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her as she took him in her mouth again, his swollen girth stretching her lips, her fingers again cupping his balls, her fingernails gently scraping and torturing him. He gritted his teeth, and the muscles of his ass tightened. He resisted the urge to thrust harder into her mouth, deeper into her throat.

“So good,” he groaned. “Your mouth, Sam. God, your mouth on me...so hot.”

She drew back and dropped her gaze to his cock, dripping and flushed. She smiled then tenderly rubbed the sensitive head of his dick over her wet lips. Heat flashed over him, and he moaned again. She looked up at him, long lashes framing her big eyes, hazy with lust, hot for him. So beautiful. So sexy.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked hungrily on him again, and everything inside him exploded in a hot violent burst. He held her head, trying to pull her back in case she didn’t want to do this, but she gave a small shake of her head, her eyebrows drawn together, and held him in her mouth as he came in long exquisite bursts.

She swallowed and let him slide out of her mouth, gently licking around the head, all shiny and super sensitive, then sucked him into her mouth in one last gentle pull.

“Jesus,” he croaked, and he went to his knees on the floor, too, and wrapped his arms around her. “Jesus Christ.”

They stayed like that, kneeling in front of each other, hugging, emotion swelling up inside him so big it almost choked him. He felt both an overwhelming sense of gratification and...love.

He rose to his feet, picked her up and carried her over to the bed, where he gently laid her down, so precious and valuable. To him. So important. So...everything.

She drove him crazy, yeah, but he wanted that kind of crazy, needed it like an addict needs a drug, needed her, needed her craziness, forever.

He parted her legs and knelt between them as she watched him with heavy-lidded eyes and a sultry smile. He leaned in to her to lick her sweet folds, slick with arousal, sweet and heady. He kissed the crease where thigh joined hip, brushed his lips over the puff of auburn curls, drew his tongue down over the softest skin in the world. She opened her thighs wider for him and moaned her delight. She tasted as sweet as sin, like desire and delight. Delicate. Delectable. He swallowed her taste, suckled on her soft flesh, kissed her clit, and then licked over it. Her body shuddered, and she whimpered, and when he drew her clit into his mouth and so gently sucked, she cried out, fisted her hands into the sheets and came in his mouth. So beautiful. So sexy.

* * *

They slept in her room that night. She awoke in the darkness, unsure of the time, draped over him, legs twined with his. She moved against him, rubbing with a latent need that quickly grew. She petted his chest—hard muscle, silky hair, hard little nipples– and made him twitch. She slid her hand lower, caressed his belly just beneath his navel, tangled her fingers in the rough hair below that, then reached lower still. Semi-hard, his cock swelled eagerly into her fingers. She smiled.

She stroked him, velvety skin over his hardening shaft and thick pulsing veins, and rubbed her thumb over the wet tip. His groan rumbled in his chest where her head still rested. She kissed his chest, tasting his skin with her tongue. His arms tightened around her, and then he rolled her to her back, coming over her, big and strong and powerful.

She gazed up at him in the dark, the moonlight streaming in the balcony doors where they’d left the curtains open, casting his body into highlights and shadows, emphasizing his high cheekbones and strong jaw, his dark eyes, his firm mouth. Silver and blue shadows sculpted his shoulders and biceps into powerful curves and dips as he parted her thighs and pushed her knees back. He moved between her legs, his knees spread wide, his thighs thick with muscle, the dark gold curls at his groin gleaming faintly, his cock thrusting up with erotic demand. Her lips parted at the sight of it, so engorged and beautiful. Feminine satisfaction swept through her that she did that to him, that he wanted her, and she blinked at a sudden prickle in the corners of her eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Samara,” he whispered, his gaze holding hers. “So beautiful.”

“So are you.”

His mouth curved in a wry smile, and she smiled too, her mouth tremulous.

Heat washed over her body in slow, luscious waves, pulsing from deep within her.

He laid his palm on his groin, his cock between his middle and index finger to help guide him into her. She watched, breathless and hot, then closed her eyes as he pushed inside her. Never enough. Never.

He eased himself in, slowly, in and out. “Take me, honey. Take me...like that. Oh, yeah.”

“Yes.”

When he was in and they were pressed as close as they could be, joined there so intimately, he set his hands on her waist and held her, his hands so big on her body his thumbs almost met on her abdomen, and he began to move in her, sliding in and out in slow strokes. Then he moved over her, took her hands in his, and pressed them to the bed beside her head, taking his weight on his elbows, and he kissed her. He licked into her mouth, dragged his tongue over her teeth. He nibbled her lips and sucked her tongue, all the while rocking into her with his hips in a drugging, enthralling rhythm. She curled her fingers tightly around his and kissed him back.

“You feel so good,” he whispered in her ear. He nuzzled her hair, kissed her cheek and the side of her neck when she turned her head.

So good. So very, unbelievably good. Flames licked over her body, and pleasure bloomed inside her, spreading all the way to her fingers and toes, consuming her.

He rose up on his knees again, set his hands on her inner thighs and continued his relentless stroking in and out of her, a sweet ache building and building inside her. She opened her mouth, gazing up at him, so powerful above her. Sensation so acute it was almost pain built inside her.

“Travis.”

“Sam.”

He took her hands again, clasped them in his, and held them in front of her chest, steadying her body for his harder, faster thrusts, and their eyes met and held as he moved in her.

The man he was...was everything to her. His strength, his sense of purpose, his confidence. His loyalty to the company. His aura of competence and power that made her feel like she could always count on him.

The man he’d been when he’d rejected her all those years ago. Though it had hurt her, she knew now he’d done the right thing. Because that was who he was. The man he was now, who’d let her have a chance in managing Cedar Mill when she’d thought he was going to try to shut her out. The man he was to follow her to Matagalpa because he was worried about her. The man he was, driving her crazy with his bossy protectiveness, even though deep down inside...she loved it.

She watched, entranced by the molten heat in his eyes, the sensuous curve of his mouth, the muscles rippling over his body as he moved against her. His cock inside her hit every nerve ending, hit tender places so deep inside her it hurt. So good.

He lowered himself on her again, his body hot and heavy, though again he was on his elbows. One arm curved around the top her head, his hand caressing her hair, stroking her forehead, tipping her head back so he could kiss her throat. He suckled her flesh gently then licked there. “Sam,” he murmured. “Sam.”

He whispered words against her hair, his mouth burning a trail on her skin. Their soft sighs of pleasure mingling, he pushed into her again and again. Flames burned hotter in her womb, and pressure built, pleasure vibrating through her. She strained up into him, and one more time, he rose to his knees and found her clit with his thumb. Their eyes met and held, his so full of tenderness and worship she had to close hers as emotion rose up inside her in huge swamping waves.

He touched everything inside her—including her heart.

Sensation inside her spiraled up, tightening into a sharp point of need, so tight, so high she was almost scared of what was going to happen, and then he took her higher still, higher than she’d ever been, and she shattered, sweet sensation cascading over every nerve ending, sparks flashing in front of her eyes. She cried out and reached for him, and he fell over her, pressed the side of his face to hers, and found her hands again with his, his fingers clutching hers like he’d never let go. His body went tight and still against hers, and he pulsed into her.

“Sam.” He kissed her, over and over, his mouth on her forehead, her eyebrow, her cheek. His nose rubbed against hers, and they breathed in tandem, sharing air. Her heart thundered, and her body pulsed around his cock, still buried in her.

It all became so beautiful in that moment, so exquisite, so important she knew everything in her life had changed.

Chapter Eighteen

“Do you really think I’m spoiled?”

They lay twined together on top of the bed covers in the quiet darkness, the ceiling fan sending air stroking over their damp skin in soft, rhythmic waves. He dragged his fingers through her long hair.

“No.”

She lifted her head from his chest to look at him. “You said that, though.”

“Yeah. I did.” He pursed his lips and expelled a breath. “When you were a teenager, I thought you were spoiled because you had such an easy life. Compared to what I had.”

She gazed at him, eyes full of warmth and gentle curiosity in the moonlight. “Tell me about it.”

He told her. Told her about the father who’d knocked up his mother, never to be seen again, his mom barely able to take care of herself, never mind a kid, all the odd jobs he’d taken from the time he was ten years old to try to help, including the job in a coffee shop that had sparked his interest in coffee. He told her about dropping out of college because his mom got sick and he’d had to look after her, how he’d had to get a full-time job —okay, two full-time jobs—to try to pay the medical bills, and how she’d died when he was only nineteen, leaving him alone in the world.

He told her how Parker had filled a hole in his life when he’d caught Parker’s attention after winning all those barista competitions while working for Cedar Mill and how Parker had been both a friend and a father figure to him. And how he’d felt when Parker and Dayna had invited him into their home to become a part of their family, a family like he’d never had.

“I guess I was envious,” he finally said, sliding his hand down the curve of her back. “It seemed like everything was just handed to you like a princess, when I’d had to work my ass off to get where I had. The truth is you never were spoiled. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked. How you’ve worked your way up in the company. Nothing’s been handed to you just because you’re Parker’s daughter.”

Her radiant smile sucked the air out of his lungs. “Thank you,” she whispered, and touched her lips to his. When she drew back, her smile faded. “Is that why you don’t want me to be CEO?”

He gazed back at her, his thinking fuzzy. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t think it should be handed to me.”

He let that idea circle around in his head. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but maybe she had a point. Maybe his belief that goals were accomplished with hard work had influenced him. But it wasn’t the only reason.

“When Parker and I had that falling out and I moved to Los Angeles, I felt like I’d lost my family,” he said, remembered pain lancing through him. “The only real family I ever had. Parker was adamant that he wasn’t involved in anything illegal, and I felt like an asshole for even thinking it. I was afraid I’d screwed up my career, the business I’d worked my tail off for. It was a shitty time in my life.” He searched her face. “I buried myself in work. When I said I helped grow the company, I meant that, Samara. It’s been my life ever since I started there, and even more so after that happened. I had to prove myself all over again to Parker. I was desperate to get back his approval, his trust. So I threw myself into work. That’s why it’s so important to me to not lose the company. That’s why I want to run it. And yeah...I’ve worked for it.”

He asked for her understanding with his eyes, and relief rolled through him when she nodded.

“I get it,” she said softly. “But surely you can understand why it’s important to me too?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I do, Samara. I do. I was never trying to shut you out. At first I just wanted to make things easier for you when you were planning the funeral, with everything you were going through. Then I honestly didn’t think you were ready, and I was worried about what was best for the company.” Her eyes narrowed, and he smiled. “Then you stepped up and showed how smart you are. Jesus, when you came up with that idea to change our traceability system, I...” He searched for the words to tell her how much he’d admired her and respected her, and once again, her face softened. She nodded and pulled his head down for another kiss, this one full of mutual respect and understanding and...yeah...love.

* * *

The next day, the drive to the coffee estate belonging to Javier Alvarez took nearly two hours. Two hours of bouncing over potholes in the road. They’d driven through a sudden downpour, the wipers on Travis’s rental Jeep barely able to keep up. Then the sun had come out again, and the jungle turned steamy.

They climbed in altitude, and Samara felt the effects of it. When she’d arrived in Matagalpa, she’d felt a mild nagging headache at her temples and a slight fatigue. It had disappeared after yesterday’s sexual activity but returned now.

The air grew cooler as they ascended. Samara kept a lookout behind them, only a little paranoid after what had happened the day before, but it didn’t seem they were being followed.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Travis muttered, steering around a particularly large hole in the rustic road. “Don’t you wonder why we could never get hold of Alvarez?”

“Yes.” She nibbled her bottom lip, watching the lush greenery passing by. “You know phone service isn’t always reliable here. Maybe that’s why.”

Travis shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”

She told him more about the Paquita coffee bean, the aroma, the tasting notes, the mouth-feel.

“It sounds amazing,” he agreed grudgingly. “You’re making my mouth water to taste it.”

She grinned at him. Their mutual love of coffee was another thing drawing them together. She reached out and squeezed his firm biceps. “Thank you again for coming with me.” For once in her life, she was happy to accept help, relieved and grateful that he was there.

He shot her a look, and the corners of his mouth deepened like he was trying to repress his smile. Probably thinking the same thing she was.

It was hard not to feel optimistic and enthusiastic after everything they’d shared. Knowing there really was nothing standing between them anymore, knowing Travis actually did want her, and knowing there might be a rare coffee bean that was going to make Cedar Mill Coffee Company tons of money buoyed her spirit. Even her nervousness about the man in the hotel and the possibility that he’d been following her yesterday faded away in the bright sunshine, cool mountain air and Travis’s reassuring presence.

“I think this is it,” Travis said, turning off the road onto an even narrower, rougher one. Neither of them had ever been to the estate, but Samara had detailed instructions how to get there from the concierge at the hotel.

They bumped and jounced down the road for a few minutes and then arrived at the farm. Samara knew it was large and had only started direct sales to roasters recently. The varietals they grew—besides the Paquita—were all top quality.

Travis parked the Jeep in the yard, and they looked at each other before climbing out. Samara smiled at him.

A man—dark skinned, dark haired, stocky and probably an inch or two shorter than Samara—emerged from one of the buildings. He started walking toward them. “Hola,” he called.

“Hola.”

Travis held out his hand. “Are you Javier?”

“Yes. Javier Alvarez. And you are?” Javier took Travis’s hand and shook it, an expression of hesitant curiosity in his dark eyes.

“Travis Murray. And this is Samara Hayden.”

She held out her hand and smiled. “I believe you knew my father. Parker Hayden.”

Javier’s eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and he dropped her hand. “Parker Hayden. You’re his daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Madre de Dios,” Javier muttered. “What are you doing here?”

Samara shot a sideways glance at Travis. Despite the question, she got that he wasn’t really asking her what she was doing there. He was telling her she shouldn’t be there.

“My father left some business unfinished when he died,” she said. “I hoped to talk to you about it.”

Javier’s gaze darted around. “No. No. We cannot talk. That is out of the question. No.” He stepped back. “You must go. Right now.”

“But we came all this way. I’d love to talk about Paquita. I think it could be very profitable for both of us. I’m sure my father told you what kind of price he can pay you for that bean.”

“Yes. Yes. But...” He took another step away and wiped his hands on the dark green cargo pants he wore. “I cannot do that now.”

“Perhaps we could go inside to your office to talk.”

“No!”

Samara’s insides tightened with frustration, and she pressed her lips together. She glanced at Travis for some help. His sunglasses didn’t hide his frown.

Javier’s eyes went to the jungle behind them then flicked back to their faces. “Please,” he said, a pleading tone in his voice. “Leave, now.”

A faint drone of an airplane reached Samara’s ears. Huh. She looked up at the clear blue sky above the trees. Javier noticed and looked too. Desperation filled his eyes, and now he moved forward. He took hold of Samara’s arm and started walking her to the vehicle.

She shook him off. “Hey.”

“I’m telling you, you must go,” he said. “Mierde. It is too late. Come with me.” He took hold of her arm again and started walking toward the building.

The buzz of the plane intensified as it drew closer. Samara stumbled along behind Javier over the dirt of the yard and turned to look at Travis.

“Hey,” Travis said, running up to them and releasing Samara from Javier’s grip. “Hands off the lady. Would you tell us what the hell is going on?”

Javier muttered and strode rapidly toward the building he’d just come out of, a small wooden structure with a tile roof. “Come.”

Samara looked up and saw the plane like a silvery insect in the bright azure sky, the sun glinting off it. It was descending and apparently about to land, and not very far from there. She frowned.

Javier was acting very weird. Tension coiled inside her as she and Travis followed him into the cool dimness. It was an office building, with ancient desks and filing cabinets arranged in the small room they stood in.

Javier strode through the room and yanked open a door. Before he could walk through it, a man appeared. Tall, deep-set eyes, hard bodied. The man from the hotel who’d told her to go home. And he was carrying a gun.