Chapter Seven
Sam held Sheri still as he lowered his lips to her ear.
“It’s just me,” he whispered. “You ran into me before I could let you know I was here, and I didn’t want you to scream and wake the boys.”
She sagged against him, and he resisted the urge to savor the lush, slippery heat of her body pressed against his. He released her, and she stepped around him, moving out of the boys’ room and into the hall.
“Oh,” she gasped, reaching for the tie on her robe. Somehow it had come undone in the collision, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to steal a glimpse at what was underneath.
F*ck it. He wasn’t that strong. He looked down and saw an endless expanse of creamy skin. No nightie. No T-shirt. No sleep shorts. Just Sheri.
His heart throbbed hard. Among other things.
“Now I know,” he murmured.
“Know what?” she asked, cinching the waist belt on the robe and peering up at him in the darkness.
“Know what you sleep in.” He swallowed.
She let go of her robe and studied him, close enough that her breath grazed his chest. “That’s something you were wondering?”
He nodded, too dizzy to speak.
“You were in your bed thinking about me?” she whispered. There was something conflicted in her eyes, something uncertain.
But there was something heated there, too.
He gritted his teeth, knowing he should step back but unable to make his feet move. A small ghost of a smile crossed her face in the dim light, so faint he might’ve missed it.
But he didn’t miss the note of desire in her voice when she spoke again. “Dammit, I want you.”
Then she lunged for him.
He might’ve staggered if he hadn’t been braced for her. Instead, he moved back against the wall, letting the warm, smooth weight of her body press him back against the doorframe.
He hadn’t bothered with a shirt when he’d gotten up to check the boys, and he thanked the heavens for that now. He could feel every inch of her warm, lush flesh pressed against the front of the silky robe, the only thing separating him from all that beautiful nakedness.
“Kiss me,” she gasped, not waiting for a response. She arched up on tiptoes and found his lips with hers, kissing him with a dizzying heat that made Sam groan low in his throat.
He responded by sliding his hands over her hips and up, savoring the heat of her body beneath the smooth satin. His fingers traced every curve, trying to memorize her as he kissed her softly at first, then harder.
Sheri wriggled against him, her breasts pressing firmly into his chest. He could feel her nipples through the satin, and the minty taste of her mouth made him dizzy with need. His hands had continued their journey up her torso, and he found himself gripping her rib cage, feathering his thumbs over the undersides of her breasts.
“I shouldn’t do this,” she murmured, then did it again, kissing him harder as she pressed her body against his.
“God,” he whispered back, slipping one hand down to find the tie she’d just fastened. He gave it a tug and felt the material slip back, baring her shoulders. Sam reached up to brush the fabric back and broke their kiss to trail his lips over that warm, freckled curve. He kissed his way across the plane of her shoulders, dipping low above her collarbones until he came to the soft, fragrant hollow under her ear.
He was light-headed now, all the blood in his body having surged to his groin the instant she’d whispered, I want you.
Sam groaned as her fingers danced over the front of his boxers. He could feel her grazing, stroking, squeezing until he thought he’d lose his mind.
He fought to remember why he wasn’t supposed to do this, fought harder to keep himself under control.
He wasn’t winning in either case. He moaned again and kissed her hard on that warm, soft mouth. Her breasts were full and tight pressed against his chest, and he swore he’d never felt anything so mind-blowingly soft in his life.
“You’re killing me,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “We shouldn’t—”
A plaintive cry from the next room stopped him from articulating whatever it was they shouldn’t do.
Not that it wasn’t clear to both of them.
She took a step back, blinking in the dim glow of the hallway night-light as she reached down to retie her robe. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me—”
“Not your fault,” he said. “I’ll handle the boys. Please. Go back to bed. You need your sleep.”
The look in her eyes told him that wasn’t all she needed. He felt the same way, but Mac’s words echoed in his head.
Keep your hands off my sister.
“Good night,” Sam whispered, and stepped away from her into the darkness of the tiny bedroom.
…
On her lunch break the next day, Sheri scurried out to a private spot on the beach near her office and dialed Kelli from her cell phone.
“I was hoping I’d hear from you!” Kelli yelled cheerfully over the cacophony of barking at her vet clinic. “How’s the first day at the new job?”
“Good. I just called home and Sam says the boys are doing well.”
“That’s a relief.”
She toed off her shoes and settled on a log, careful not to wrinkle her new skirt as she buried her toes in warm sand. “Look, there’s something I want to ask you.”
“Fire away. The bulldog who swallowed a sock isn’t due for another fifteen minutes.”
She bit her lip, not sure where to start. “That seminar you took a few years ago—the one about sexual harassment in the workplace?”
There was a long pause, followed by an exasperated groan. “Seriously? You’re being harassed on your first day of work?”
“No! Of course not. I was just wondering about the laws concerning sexual relationships between employers and employees and whether—”
“Oh my God, you slept with Sam!”
Sheri cringed and pulled the phone away from her face, then worried Kelli’s shouts might carry all the way to Hanalei even without the phone. She put the phone back to her ear and lowered her own voice.
“I didn’t sleep with Sam,” she insisted, surprised to find the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. There was something deliciously naughty about saying the words aloud. “But I would have.”
“What on earth stopped you? Jesus, I had to restrain myself from jumping him on your front porch when he said hello.”
She rolled her eyes. “There are these two small people living in my house. Maybe you’ve met them? They tend to cry at the drop of a hat and wake up at the most inconvenient times—”
“Got it. Say no more. So the babies interrupted you before you could bump uglies with the manny, and now you’re wondering if you could be arrested?”
“Pretty much.” She picked up a piece of driftwood and began poking holes in the sand, wondering about the prospect of spending time behind bars for a few innocent kisses.
They weren’t that innocent.
Kelli laughed. “Unless you handcuffed him to the bed and groped him against his will, I think you’re okay.”
Sheri’s brain veered a little at that, and she caught herself picturing his massive hands shackled to either side of her headboard, his broad chest glistening with baby oil as she lowered herself onto his—
“No!” she said. “I didn’t handcuff him. But still, I’m his employer, and he’s my subordinate and I’ve been reading the PMRF staff handbook and it has all kinds of scary language about workplace relationships and sexual harassment and how to handle inappropriate fraternization. It has me worried.”
Kelli was quiet a moment, and Sheri pictured her at the vet clinic neutering a rottweiler with one hand while she gripped her phone with the other. Her friend was efficient like that.
“Didn’t your brother hire him?” Kelli asked.
“What?”
“Mac. I thought he hired Sam. And he said the other night that he’s the one paying him, not you. Doesn’t that make him your brother’s employee?”
“I guess.”
“So there’s no problem then. As long as Sam doesn’t nail your brother.”
“I don’t think there’s much risk of that.”
“Good. Because I’ve got dibs on Mac.”
She laughed and poked her stick into the sand again. “I suppose sexual harassment is the least of my concerns. God, I can’t believe I lunged at him like that. Can you think of anything dumber?”
“Not lunging at him?”
Sheri sighed. “Seriously, it’s a bad idea. I just moved here to take this job, and I’ve finally gotten my life together. The last thing I need is to screw everything up by—”
“Screwing the help?”
“Exactly.” She flipped the sand around with her stick, annoyed with herself for wanting him so badly. “God, I feel dumb.”
“Don’t. Abs like that would bring any woman to her knees. A convenient place to be, actually.”
“I can’t. I definitely can’t. I’m not going to sleep with my manny.” She winced at her own words, glancing around to make sure no one heard. There was a family about three hundred yards down the beach to the left, and some old guy with a fishing pole and a red-and-white-striped hat standing in the parking lot stuffing his tackle box into his truck. He looked up and gave her a friendly wave, and Sheri waved back, hoping her voice hadn’t traveled that far.
“No sex with the manny,” she insisted, ordering herself to comply. “End of story.”
“I don’t like stories with unhappy endings.”
“Neither do I, but I’ve already had one unhappy ending with Jonathan. I can’t risk another one.”
“Seems a shame to let that prime piece of man meat go to waste, but I get it.” There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, and a loud yowl that was either an angry tomcat or Kelli’s latest conquest. “I’ve gotta go. Call if you need anything. Or if Sam takes his shirt off around the house. I can be there in five minutes.”
“Thanks, Kel. Love you.”
She hung up the phone and plunged her stick deep into the sand, swirling it around a few more times for good measure.
“No sex with the manny,” she repeated, forcing herself to hear the words. “No matter what.”