her inexperience. But it wasn’t mocking. Neither was his tone as he circled the hard nub at the top. “So nice and wet for me. I like that.”
When Isabella opened her eyes and checked his expression, she found merely an openness that comforted. Sam was enjoying touching her. Enjoying the effect of his touch on her. It gave her the courage to ask, “The wetness is normal?”
“When you’re having a good time, yes.”
He made another pass with his finger. The tingles flared to fire. She caught his hand, stilling the caress. There was something she had to know. “It does not repulse you?”
The arm supporting her back shifted, sliding up her back until his big hand cupped her shoulder. Her torso naturally shifted into the hollow created by the curve of his arm. She might be innocent, but she recognized desire when it stared at her, and Sam desired her.
“If you weren’t such an innocent, I’d show you just how much I’m not repulsed.”
She didn’t know if she could survive it. Sam clearly came from a different world than she. She’d always been pampered and sheltered from the coarser side of life, tucked away from reality, whereas Sam clearly kept his boots firmly planted in daily life. He was as earthy as he was dangerous, and, madre de Dios, he appealed to her.
Sam changed the angle, forcing her to lean back. Off balance, she felt her thighs splay farther, his hand cupping her more fully.
It was as if another person possessed her. A wanton woman who burned for the stroke of his fingers, who lived to see the satisfaction in his face when she pleased him. A woman who yearned to burn at his command.
She just didn’t know how to burn, but looking up into Sam’s face with his sensual mouth set above that square jaw and strong neck, she bet he knew how to set the fire. She licked her lips. If she was brave enough to hand him the sulphur.
His hand cupped her cheek. He held her now cradled against him, anchored at her most vulnerable points—her face and her groin. Again, she should feel threatened, and yet again she just felt…cherished. His thumb tilted her chin up.
“Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Are you giving yourself to me because you think it’ll guarantee you protection?”
She had to think about it.
“Would this matter if it were true? You would still have a willing woman in your bed.”
His thumb stroked her lips, pausing in the dent in the middle. “You hinting I’ve been hitting a dry spell?”
She couldn’t even find the coordination to swallow. She wrinkled her nose. “Probably not.”
“So what would be the draw?”
“I am a virgin.” Everyone knew men lusted after virgins.
“That means you lack experience.”
Shaking her head, she twisted her hand until she could grab his wrist. “Even I know that is not a negative to a man.”
“It is if you’ve reached a point where you’re not wanting to do all the work.”
“You are telling me you are lazy?”
“Laziness is a highly underappreciated quality.”
The man had not stopped moving since she had met him. He must be teasing her. She could tease, too. “But just think about it—you could train me to what you liked.”
He canted his head to the side, his gaze still on the point where his thumb touched her lip. “That would take a long time.”
“I could be a woman who learns fast.”
He pulled her lip down, seemingly fascinated with her mouth. “You have the look of a woman who’d be a lot of work.”
“I might be worth your while.”
“Keeping you around could get me killed.”
She caught his finger between her teeth. “Letting me go without teaching me will definitely get you killed.”
“By who?”
Nipping his thumb, she answered, “By me.”
Some of the seriousness slipped from his expression. “Is that a fact?”
She nodded, looking as mean as she could. “A rocksolid one.”
The smile she suspected was lurking just out of sight teased the corners of his eyes. “You think a little bit of a thing like you could make me shake in my shoes?”
She scooted down into his embrace, clutching like a talisman the inner conviction that said she fascinated him the way he fascinated her. “I think if you taught me right, I could make you quake.”
“Hell.”
He was imagining. So was she, but she did not think her images were as clear as the ones putting the heat in his eyes.
“So that is a yes?”
“Not yet.”
She liked the fact that he did not prevaricate. “But you will think about it?”
“I doubt I’ll be thinking of anything else.”
Neither would she. Her whole body was a restless ache for the satisfaction he withheld. She ran her fingernail down the placket of his shirt. “Maybe you would like me to convince you to a yes?”
His nostrils flared. Oh yes, he would like that.
“What I’d like is for you to think over the invitation while I consider it.”
Watching him watch her, seeing the goodness in him that he hid behind a cold exterior, she realized why he was hesitating. He worried she had not thought this through. He was wrong.
She knew what she was doing. Her mother had warned her that there would come a time when she would not be able to run anymore. She had finally reached it with this man, in this wild place. And it felt right. “You think I’m running away.”
“Yes.”
“I am not.”
“Then what are you doing?”
She curled her fingers over the hand that cupped her cheek, holding on. “For once, I am taking what I want.”
“And you want me?”
She had never been more sure of anything in her life. “Very much.”
His eyes narrowed. “For how long?”
She would not ask him for more than he could give, and he was not a man who gave a woman promises. “As long as it lasts.”
His
