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He clamped his hand behind her neck, holding her in place as he took over, gliding his tongue against hers. She moaned, the sound reverberating through him, and suddenly the lights and irritating sounds faded into the background. All he could focus on was Samantha, her plush lips and delectable taste, and his body thrummed with a need that wouldn’t be satisfied tonight.
But he wasn’t thinking about himself. Why would he when Samantha had lowered herself onto his lap, her breasts pressed into his chest? She rocked against his hard cock and he swallowed a curse. This was not happening here. In fact, this wasn’t happening at all, no matter how much he wished otherwise.
He removed his hand from behind her neck, giving her hair a tug, and receiving a shuddering moan into his mouth in return. Instead of slipping his hand beneath her skirt and gliding his fingers over her wet pussy the way he wanted to, he cupped her face between his hands and ended their kiss.
Her eyes were glazed with the same desire that flared inside him but he couldn’t do anything about it in a room full of people. Not with this woman. Before he could explain why he’d stopped, someone called her name.
They both looked as the group of bachelorette party women made their way toward them.
“Sam, come dance!” one of them yelled over the music.
Sam? He didn’t have to mull over the nickname to know a man’s version of her name didn’t suit her. Elegant and unique, she was Samantha.
She looked over her shoulder at the women, then back at him, obviously torn. Probably because her new friends didn’t appear to be leaving without taking her with them to the dance floor.
He slid his finger over her damp bottom lip. “Go. Have fun. I’ll be right here waiting.”
She waltzed off, hips swaying, and with his dick hard, he settled in to watch her.
An hour later, he’d decided they’d both had enough. Getting her to leave was no easy feat, so he scooped her into his arms and carried her out as she waved to her new friends and promised to keep in touch.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, Samantha nestled into the plush seat on the jet with the hangover of all hangovers. Her head pounded and her mouth tasted like cotton, reminding her of the nights she overdid it in college. She’d had some embarrassing moments back then, but none came close to what she’d done with Dex last night.
After he’d been gracious enough to rescue her from humiliation and had taken time off to accompany her to the Bahamas, how did she repay him? By kissing and mauling the man. She could still feel the hard ridge of his erection over her swollen, needy sex, desire pulsing through her as if her panties hadn’t existed.
She groaned and adjusted her sunglasses which she still wore on the plane. She’d already closed the window shades, the glare of even the clouds making her migraine worse.
“Are you feeling sick?” Dex asked from his seat beside her.
They hadn’t spoken much since they’d met up out front so Corey could load the car.
“No.” She shook her head and immediately regretted the motion. If she did that again, the answer to his question might become yes. She kept her eyes closed until the flight attendant walked over and offered them drinks.
Forcing a smile at the man, she replied, “A large glass of water, please.” If Samantha knew Asher, she’d soon be drinking a high-end brand. She shut her eyes again, still not ready to face Dex.
“Orange juice, if you have some,” he said. Probably because it was still early in the morning and he wasn’t nursing the hangover from hell, needing hydration desperately.
When she’d arranged for the jet to leave early this morning, getting as drunk as she had had not been on the agenda. But Dex made it so easy for her to let go and free her emotions. When they’d walked on the beach, she’d expressed her pain and anger, and he’d offered her a shoulder to lean on, making her feel like a priority in a way Jeremy hadn’t in years. If ever.
Knowing that Dex was watching her at the club gave her the safety to drink and enjoy herself. Then she’d met Katie, the bride, who was a New Yorker like herself, along with her entourage. The rest of the night was a little fuzzy but not enough that she didn’t remember trying to coax Dex to dance. She recalled his amusement. How sexy he looked in a pair of black slacks and white T-shirt that showed off his muscular, tanned skin. How delicious his musky cologne had smelled.
Then, thanks to alcohol-induced bravery, she’d kissed him.
And instead of pushing her away, holy hell, had he kissed her back. The entire interlude lasted just a few minutes but it was enough to remind her that she hadn’t experienced such passion in a long time.
Damn, she hadn’t had sex in a long time, either. Jeremy had always claimed they were too tired after a long day at work. They. As if he knew what she wanted… or didn’t want in bed. Now Samantha knew the truth. Jeremy had been getting his satisfaction elsewhere. She inwardly cringed at how stupid she’d been. How she’d allowed him to gaslight her in so many areas of her life.
She could try and convince herself that her sexual slump was the reason her body had melted for Dex, but she knew it would be a lie. Their chemistry had only grown stronger over the years, the kiss so explosive she was lucky she hadn’t come in public.
She wasn’t a virgin nor was she a prude. Though she hadn’t been overly experienced prior to meeting Jeremy, she’d had lovers, been kissed, been curious and tried out various positions with men she wasn’t in a serious relationship with. But she’d never experienced such overwhelming need after a simple lip-lock before.
But there was nothing simple about Dex Sterling.
He’d broken their kiss first and hadn’t tried anything when they’d returned to the house. Of course, that could be because he’d had to carry her out of the club while she waved like a pageant winner.
God, she was never going to live this down. The best thing she could do was open her eyes and get it over with. She pivoted in her seat and pulled off the polarized dark lenses, only to find him watching her.
