I also had most of my makeup done.
This meant one of two things. One, Sam primped like a girl, though when he made it to me, I registered he smelled good so I figured he put on some cologne or aftershave, but other than that it didn’t appear his toilette was extensive except to shave. Or two, something held him up.
I watched him in the mirror as, eyes still on my ass, he slid a hand along my ribcage, he fit the front of his body to the back of mine and his eyes moved to my reflection in the mirror (specifically, the breast vicinity).
Before I could figure out whether or not to ask what took him so long, Sam, just like Sam, told me.
“Luci called,” he said, his gaze moving from my breasts to my eyes.
“She okay?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a woman. She wants to shop and bein’ a man that would indicate she’s not.”
I grinned then leaned forward a bit and went back to swiping mascara while explaining, “She’s perfectly fine.”
“Right,” he muttered and my eyes went from my wand to him watching me and suddenly I felt funny so I stopped.
“Are you saying she wants to shop with you or with me?” I asked.
“She wants to shop with both of us.”
I blinked into the mirror because not only was this voiced with dread; Sam was wearing a borderline look of dread on his face.
Yes, the mighty, huge, hot guy, ex-commando Sampson Cooper appeared to fear shopping.
“Are you…” I hesitated, studying him closely, “scared of shopping?”
His eyes had drifted down to my breast area again but at my question, they shot up to my face then both his arms closed around me, he shoved his face in my neck and burst out laughing.
Hmm. Maybe I read him wrong.
“Scared of shopping,” he muttered into my neck then burst out laughing again, his arms going so tight, they squeezed the breath out of me.
Yes, it would seem I read him wrong.
It appeared he didn’t fear it. He loathed it.
So noted.
“Sam, I need to finish with my mascara,” I told him, his head came up and he kept chuckling as his eyes caught mine.
“So finish,” he invited, his voice still vibrating with residual laughter.
“I can’t, you’re putting me off.”
His brows drew together. “How?”
“I don’t know, holding me, watching me, being hot. That puts a girl off.”
His brows relaxed but his body started shaking again, his mouth spreading in a huge grin through which he asked, “Me being hot puts you off?”
“Not, say, when I’m sitting, drinking wine next to you or, uh… other times. But when I have to concentrate on something important and get it right and you’re watching then, uh… yeah.”
His big grin became a bigger smile. “Mascara is important?”
“Sam,” I snapped.
His eyes left mine in the mirror because his head dipped and his mouth went to my ear and I watched as I listened to him whisper, “I was watchin’ you go down on me and I was a lot hotter then, baby. Now that was important and you didn’t seem to have any problem concentrating.”
Heat rushed between my legs, hot and wet.
Oh God.
“Sam,” I breathed.
“Fuck.” His nose brushed the skin below my ear as his hand at the side of my ribs slid up to the side of my breast. “You smell good.”
Apparently, Celeste’s perfume discovery tactic worked.
Also noted.
“You feel good,” he went on, his thumb extending and gliding under the swell of my breast.
I bit my lip and locked my shaking knees.
Sam’s arm around my belly dipped low, his fingers curled into the hem of my dress and his eyes came back to me in the mirror.
“And you look good,” he murmured, his hand ducking under my dress.
Oh God.
“Sam,” I repeated on a breath.
His hand slid into my panties.
“Can’t keep my fuckin’ hands off you.”
Oh God.
“Sam –”
I stopped talking as I sucked in breath and my head dropped back to his shoulder when his finger hit the spot.
Oh man. That felt nice.
His finger worked me, I moaned, turned my head and pressed my forehead into his neck and his other hand pulled down the top of the dress taking with it the cup of my bra and his fingers started working my nipple there.
God.
That felt nicer than nice.
“Jesus, fuck, look at you.”
I pressed my forehead in his neck.
“Fuckin’, look at you.” His finger at the spot slid down and filled me. “Beautiful.”
Both of my hands went to both of his, he kept playing with my nipple and finger fucked me before going back to my clit, pressing and rolling. I felt it with my hands and I felt what he was doing and both felt freaking great.
I whimpered.
His finger moved to slide back inside.
“Gotta have that again, baby,” he growled in my ear and I twisted my neck and did my best to focus on his eyes.