Charitable Contributions

21: Accidents Happen

I pulled back before I followed through on what my body screamed for. His eyes piercing daggers through me didn't help. Torment burned in his pupils and willed me to feel his pain. It gave me as much whiplash as my push-pull bullshit.

My voice was weak and hollow. "I'm sorry too. So sorry. Sam, we should ta-"

His mouth covered mine. Heat from his lips rushed an airy sensation into my chest. I lifted my hands and fisted his shirt. The muscles in his chest tightened. He teased my mouth open with a tug on my bottom lip and slid his tongue along the seam. It wasn't the frantic, teeth smashed desperate version of a kiss my body ached for, but it was the kiss I needed – impatient, reassuring, and drew me in closer.

Fuck, I missed this.

The frailty of my thoughts dissolved under a rash of lightheadedness and heat that enflamed me. His apologies continued as his body closed the gap. His fingers dug into my hips, a grounding pinch that throbbed lines of excitement up my thighs. A quick tug compressed my lungs against his hard chest, shortening the breaths passing through my nose.

A slammed contact in my backside made my head spin. Or maybe it was the way his lips pressed and sucked mine like his life depended on it. They were warm, soft, and addictive. His angry, possessive hold clenched my stomach. I needed them more than I needed anything else at this moment. Except for the door being locked. That we both needed.

"You came." Shivers trembled down my spine when his legs slotted between mine and nudged them wider. The edge of my skirt curled up, but the air that kissed my heated skin was nothing to Sam's hand lifting my leg around his waist and pressing his swelling interest against mine.

His mouth moved to harsh, sloppy pecks down my jawline, approaching my ear. "Look at you. Beautiful." His groaned words vibrated down the side of my neck. "Do you know how much I missed you, darlin'?"

"I have some idea." I shifted my hips against the hard column, pressed long and thick between my folds. This was bad. So bad. But also, oh, so good. Ache swelled with sensitivity where we connected, a rub of warm friction that throbbed the nerves behind my underwear's flimsy barrier. Arousal tickled and pooled inside me.

"Fuck, I can't think straight with you wearing that." The way his hips rolled into mine, I wished my dress was also rumpled up on the floor. Two hours of prep tonight, including shaving off all the right hairs between mumbled practice apologies in the shower, were worth it to hear those words. The black lace edge of my skirt raised from hugging my thighs to bunched under Sam's grip on my hips. Soaked and ruined, I wanted my panties gone.

My answer was stolen by the shaky breath I took in. His mouth opened, fanning warm breaths down the small plunge of my neckline to where my breasts poked sharp points. His hand was warm under my skirt, fingers tracing up my thigh before squeezing the back of it and pulling me closer.

Dark determination burned in his eyes. My heart pounded at seeing them flooded with the same lust that surged through me. Curling my fingers over his shoulders, I wanted him. In the way he left me speechless, the way his stubbornness challenged mine, and despite all the ways I misjudged him, I wanted him. Speech wasn't my friend because, "I want you, Sam," came out in a desperate, needy whisper.

He shifted against me. His erection slotted between my legs, rubbing heated lines of friction over my nerves. They throbbed with need, slicking wet as his fingers hooked my underwear and dragged it down. Cool air hit my heated skin.

Oh fuck. "Sam," I whispered as his lips trailed hot down the side of my neck, then curved to my shoulder. My eyes stretched wide when his finger dipped into my wet heat, making my insides squeeze around the intrusion. "I'm sorry. We should-"