The Touch of Magic Series, page 91
He no sooner had grabbed a handful when she sneezed. He felt her chest contract against his legs.
“You okay?” It wasn’t his voice. His mouth was stuffed with popcorn.
She nodded, but held up a hand as she sneezed again, then went into a coughing fit. It was all he could do to keep from whacking her on the back, but after a moment she turned around to look at him. Her eyes were red, but she managed to speak. “Thanks for not whacking me on the back. I’m fine. It’s just a little cold.”
Sheree waited until the commercial, before speaking. “I told her to take something but she won’t.”
“I hate cold medicine. It says it tastes like cherry, but it tastes like lies.” Sam laughed even though she’d said the sentiment to the room in general. Then the show started up again, and they all got still. Except Rae who coughed or sneezed every few minutes.
At nine they changed the channel, but Rae kept sneezing. Then she coughed over a line that explained exactly how the evidence showed who the killer was, and it was all Sam could do to keep the others from massacring her.
“Hey, go back, listen again.”
They did, and she managed to sneeze this time.
“Dammit, Rae!” Jack and Lisa offered it up in perfect sync as Jack hit the jump back button yet again.
Sam fended them off by promising to put cold medicine in her, and dragged her to the hall bathroom before any damage could be inflicted.
CHAPTER 19
Rae whined at him, looking pitiful and slightly sick. “I don’t want cold medicine.”
Sam had her elbow in his hand. “If you don’t take some you’re going to get drummed out, and I can fight one or two of them—I’d do it for you—” He mockingly put a solemn hand to his heart, even though he really would have done it. “—but I can’t take on all four of them.”
She almost pouted. Even with her nose red, that lip looked inviting, but he held himself back. It was not the right time. It was never the right time.
“Have you ever taken that stuff?” She eyed the bottle of thick red syrup that he pulled from the cabinet. “It tastes like nasty candy and a hospital had a baby.”
“Wow, that’s a serious indictment.” He put the bottle in her hand. “Stay.” And went out to the kitchen for a cup of ice water, then returned to find her in exactly the same position he had left her in. He held the cup out to her. “You can wash it down.”
She nodded and sighed, clearly resigned to the horrible tasting liquid. Rae watched warily while he poured her a shot in the plastic medicine cup. He could almost hear her counting as she eyed the cup for a few seconds before tossing it back, then she made the foulest face he had ever seen while gesturing wildly for him to hand her the water. She guzzled the whole thing before slamming the empty cup bar-style onto the counter.
“There. I hope everybody’s happy.” She stalked out of the bathroom, making little disgusted shivers as though she could still taste the cough syrup. It was all he could do to stifle a laugh. She was adorable.
Everyone in the living room turned to him. “Did she really take it?”
“You’re not covering for her are you?”
He swore that she had, in fact, swallowed the syrup, but no, he had not checked to be sure she wasn’t faking it. Rae offered for anyone to smell her breath. No one took her up on it, and Sam settled back into his spot on the couch with Rae tucked right in front of him on the floor.
Eventually she melted back onto his legs, leaning her head on his knee. He figured that the medicine had worked, as she hadn’t so much as sputtered in the last twenty minutes. A little while later they all realized that it had worked too well.
“What happened?” Her head popped up from where it had been ‘resting’ on his leg.
Sheree explained to her how the bad guy had done himself in. But Rae just pouted as Sheree shook her head. “You aren’t going to be able to drive yourself home, are you?”
“What? No. I’ll be fine.” Rae lowered first her arms, then her head onto his lap completely negating her statement.
Well, Sam thought, at least he was content with her there. But his mouth opened before he could stop it. “Do you want to go sleep it off on my bed?” Where had that come from?
“Bed?” Her eyelids fluttered.
“Come on.” He half lifted her and guided her toward the back room. “Sheree can drive you home when we’re done.” She mumbled something about ‘bed’ again, then half-tumbled/half-crawled along his sheets, before tucking her arms and legs around his pillows. Sam sighed to himself. Of course, she was voluntarily in his bed, but it was because she was medicated and tired, of all things. Hell, she was stoned. He reminded himself to word his wishes a little more carefully in the future.
An hour later, when everyone was packing up, Sheree wandered out of his room. “She told me to ‘go-way’. She’s out cold, and I can’t lift her.”
“I can carry her down to your car.” Sam volunteered. He didn’t think he could stand to have her sleeping here. It would be better if she were a real guest.
Sheree shook her head. “Sure, but that’s not enough. Unless you ride home with me, how will I get her out, and up to the second floor?”
Jack just grinned, a wicked male grin. “Sam, just climb in with her. You finally got a woman in your bed again!”
“That’s gross, Jack.” He made a fist at his friend. “She’s drugged.” Luckily, Lisa punched him in the arm so Sam didn’t have to. But he did think he’d have to leave Rae there. “I’ll send her home in the morning when she’s slept it off.”
When Jack raised his eyebrows again, Sam glared. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Thanks.” Sheree hugged him and headed out the door. “Tell her I tried to wake her up but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
He nodded and found himself alone a moment later with Rae curled up on his bed, the light glaring over her head. Standing in the doorway, he tried hard not to stare, afraid that she would wake up and catch him. He had already admitted to himself that he had it bad. He was in way over his head. But there she was. Auburn hair floating around her face on the pillow. Looking even more red against the black of his sheets. Her hands curled around his pillow, long artists’ fingers pale against the dark fabric.
Sam shook his head to break the stare, before making his way into the room and pulling his shirt over his head. There was a blanket in the hall closet. He kept it for friends who wanted to crash on the couch. He figured no one would be able to fault him if he slept in a tee shirt and sweats, so he went to grab them quietly, but the closet door creaked awfully as he tried to open it.
He’d never noticed that before. But then again, when had he ever tried to be quiet? There was no one to not wake until now. He’d oil it in the morning. Admittedly in hopes that he’d be in a similar situation soon. Minus the cough syrup, of course. He left the closet door where it was—barely open at all—and decided that sleeping in his jeans would have to do.
“Is it time to go home?”
Her voice startled him and he jumped around to face her. Rae was propped up on her elbows, her hair wild around her face, her eyes half closed against the bright light. “No, go back to sleep. You can drive home in the morning.”
She half started to push herself upright. “I should go now.”
She mumbled the words unconvincingly. She clearly wasn’t safe to operate heavy machinery. Or maybe even a toaster.
“You’re not in any shape to drive, baby. Go back to sleep.”
“Okay.” She fell back against the pillow, instantly even more deeply asleep than when he had come in, it seemed.
Sam walked as softly as he could across the room then reached up and flicked out the light.
“Where are you going?” Clearly, she hadn’t been anywhere near as deep asleep as she looked. But she still sounded very groggy.
“I’m going to go sleep on the couch.”
She was slurring her words, but he still understood her. “You’re too big for the couch.”
Got that right. But he didn’t say it.
“You should stay here. The bed’s plenty big.”
Sam froze, his back to her, on his way out into the hall. She hadn’t just asked him to climb in with her, had she?
When he turned, she was passed out again. Unsure if he was relieved or disappointed, he turned again toward the living room. He didn’t make it more than three steps before her voice caught up with him. “You’re too big. You can’t sleep on the couch.”
“I’ll be fine.” His voice protested.
“No. Stay. I dond wanna kick you outta your own bed.”
His mind told him he shouldn’t. He told himself to firmly say he would be fine sleeping on the couch, but the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. His feet turned and started walking back to the bed. She was curled up to one side of the mattress. Although, if he could stay off her side, he didn’t know. Lifting the covers, Sam slid in, the king size bed plenty big enough for the both of them. As long as he stayed on his half.
It turned out he could stay on his side. It was Rae who scooted across and tucked herself into him, her head on his shoulder. She sighed as she placed her hand on his chest. Sam felt her body go entirely limp again. He, on the other hand, was wound tight as a spring.
CHAPTER 20
Rae rolled over, not wanting the haze of sleep to retreat. But against her will the world around her pushed into her senses and formed itself. The bed was magnetic and the warm smell and heat beckoned her back into the soft folds of her subconscious. She snuggled down under the covers, a small thought trying to take hold in her brain. She rolled over into the luscious heat and rolled smack into a wall of muscle.
She blinked. Twice.
And froze.
Sam.
The heat was his. The deep smell that she hadn’t been able to put her finger on, it was man. And not just any man, either. Sam. And not just any Sam, shirtless Sam. Oh, Lord.
After a moment, realizing that he was still asleep, she tried to think through how she had gotten here. Vague memories of crawling into his bed pushed to the surface. Along with hazy feelings that the black satin pillow was her new best friend. Rae could only find a few clear thoughts from the night before, and one of them was Sam saying he would sleep on the couch. But he wasn’t on the couch now.
He shifted in his sleep, causing her breath to suck in, just a little, even though she didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The arm that had been loosely draped around her waist now burned a slow journey along the side of her hip. The heat rattled loose a memory of lying in this bed on her back, her arms out at her sides, and asking him to stay. No, make that arguing that he should stay. And then a fuzzier memory of curling up into him.
Well, at least it appeared he had no complaints.
Rae stayed stock still, whether it was from fear of being found out, or fear that he would stop the rich torment, she wasn’t sure. Her slow breathing stilled as his hand stopped midway down her thigh then began to slide back up, over her hip, up her side, fingers feeling each rib. Her eyes and mouth widened as it approached her breast.
Suddenly she was jolted to action and, without input from her mind, Rae tucked and rolled away, as though it was a sniper after her and not Sam. The breathing she had so carefully controlled just moments ago set up a rapid intake and she perched on the side of the bed, legs dangling, chest heaving. She already knew that she wanted Sam that way, so why had she ducked and run?
Because she wouldn’t be able to stand it if she found out he had been dreaming about someone else.
“Rae?” Her name was soft and long on his lips, his voice still slurred with sleep. “Morning.” He slowly pushed himself up on his elbows where he lay.
Without even turning her head she answered him. “Morning, Sam.” And wondered if her voice sounded half as good to his ears as his did to hers. Somehow, she conjured the nerve to turn and take a look at him. But there was something magnetic about the man on the bed behind her, and the glance turned into a thorough perusal. The sheets didn’t cover him, his jeans peeked out from satin edge, the only thing telling her eyes he wasn’t completely naked. Rae didn’t dare move as he rolled himself to a sitting position, his thigh brushing hers. Her train of thought derailed as her eyes swept the rumpled man beside her.
He stretched his neck, arms resting on his knees, still waking up, wearing only his jeans. His bare chest moved with each breath, and she forced her eyes up to his hair, seriously suffering from morning head. She watched as her hand reached up to touch it and tried to cover the unauthorized action with words. “You’re getting blond streaks again.”
He moved as though to duck away.
But she grabbed his arm. “You look great either way.”
Sam’s eyes opened all the way, finally. But they were burning holes in her. Rae sat dumbfounded as he reached up to her cheek and pulled her to him. His fingers curled into her mussed hair, and she began to think that she must look a fright. But the thought disappeared as his lips closed over hers.
His skin beckoned her hands, her fingers tracing their way up the back of his arms, finally resting on his shoulders. She leaned into him hard. Sank into the kiss. Into his hold. But in a moment, it was over. And Sam looked like he didn’t know what to do. She probably did too.
Willing her mouth to say, “kiss me again,” Rae only managed to stare at him. She couldn’t force the words to come.
It was Sam who broke the contact as he stood and walked to the closet before turning back. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night, but my mother wants to know if you can meet this coming Friday evening. She thought the two of you might go to the Webber Gallery and see about getting your own show.”
Rae blinked again, her brain desperately searching for the missing link in their conversation. But it was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she had simply dreamed that kiss. Maybe she still had a narcotic level of cough syrup in her blood and she was hallucinating. So she focused on the topic in reach. “She can just do that?”
He nodded and grabbed a shirt from the neatly folded piles inside. He spoke again while she was still befuddled by the fact that someone could just walk into the Webber and demand a show for an unknown artist.
“Rae, I’m really sorry about last night.”
“What?” Her confusion ballooned, taking her down new paths, and odd thoughts raced through her head. Had she slept with him? She didn’t remember! She glanced down quickly to see that she was still fully clothed.
“You asked me to stay in here with you, and I just didn’t want to sleep on the couch.” He shrugged his way into the t-shirt while he spoke. “I don’t even know if you’re dating anyone who might get mad.”
She smiled in automatic response to the relief that coursed through her system. “No, I’m not dating anyone who might get mad.”
“Good.” He turned away from the closet and came back to the edge of the bed. She hadn’t been able to move, while he’d wandered the room restlessly.
But now he was back, cupping her face in his hands again. Then his face was close to hers, his breathing coming in shallow sighs. She could hear her own breath escaping her. Then he closed the distance and he was kissing her until she was butter. Butter desperately trying to melt into him. Onto the floor. Anywhere.
His mouth sought hers and she leaned into the sensation, the soft touch of his lips working some kind of magic on her. It held her in place and at the same time made her bend and move toward him. His lips opened over hers, moving restlessly, his tongue chasing the sensations. His hands held her in place as though she might actually want to move away. Never. Rae kissed him back, forgoing all rational thought.
Her fingers crept up the front of his chest, now covered with the soft cotton of a shirt washed too many times. The heat and the hardness of him were evident behind the thin layer and she let her hands wander.
His breath sucked in, moving his chest beneath her touch and she felt her fingers clench at him of their own accord. Her hands slid up to his neck, pulling him closer as though she might devour him. And she wanted to. She’d waited for this. Known it would be so good. But she hadn’t anticipated it would be this good.
Sam caught her lower lip in his teeth and softly made his way to the side of her mouth. Her head tipped slightly, following his lead in a way she’d never been able to on the dance floor. Right now, in this moment, she had nothing more to care about, no right steps to hit, no one watching, only the desire to not stop, to move wherever he led.
Then, when she led, he followed. Her hands had slipped, open-palmed down the front of his chest until she hit the bottom edge. The frayed cotton moved like sand through her fingers and she scooped it into her grip and tugged upward.
Sam’s mouth was on the side of her neck, his lips and tongue tracing erotic zones she didn’t know she had. Then he was gone. Blue eyes caught hers, fire making them burn, one last moment before he raised his hands and let her tug the shirt off him. For a moment, she stilled at the sight of him. He’d been bare to her just minutes ago, lying next to her in bed, she’d even had her hand on his chest. But it was different now with permission to touch him, to feel, to explore.
With her right hand, she kept pulling upward on the shirt, but her left reached down to trace lines on his skin. Her mouth followed, sucking and tasting, licking at the little hollow at the base of his neck. He moved then, his arms pinwheeling to get out of the shirt and at last tossing it to the side without even a glance to see where it landed.
His hands stroked her hair, small sounds coming from his chest as she nipped at him. Then, with a gentle tug on her hair, he silently implored her to look up at him. No sooner than she’d made eye contact with him, his mouth was on hers again. Where before he’d been hungry, now he was ravenous.
Her whole body tipped back, all thought centered on his mouth on hers, his tongue begging her to open her own mouth and meet him halfway in this quest. Her fingers clutched the hot, bare skin at his waist and she held on for dear life until his own hands made contact with the skin along her ribs.
