wanted, knowing it was only there, in his deepest thoughts, that he could really make her his for keeps.
13
Sam lay in the dark. She was cushioned by Jack's bed and his body, which was wrapped around her. The clock glowing by the bed said twelve-fifteen.
She felt as if she'd lived five years since the fire, but it had only been a few hours. She knew Jack had waited, awake in the dark, stroking her softly, until she'd drifted off, before finally allowing himself to fall asleep.
She'd faked it. Sleep, that is. There'd been no reason to fake anything else with the man, certainly not anything in the sexual department. She'd already known he could be crazily enthusiastic when it came to basketball, or learning new things, or Heather's charity-and now she knew he was as wildly passionate in bed as well.
Jack Knight had treated her body like a temple, worshipping her into a limp noodle. Even with the crushing sadness and despondence of losing Wild Cherries, she knew that she'd shared something different with Jack. Something deeper.
Soul deeper.
That would probably terrify her later. But for now, she could only see the flames, feel the smoke choking her lungs and remember what her home had looked like as they'd driven away.
Throat tight, she slipped out of bed. She grabbed whatever piece of clothing she could find on the floor, which turned out to be Jack's shirt, and slipped into it, then found her way to the massive kitchen and the phone on the wall. Sitting on a bar stool, she lifted the receiver and dialed Red's number.
He didn't answer, so she left a message. 'I messed up really good this time. Nothing as simple as a call to the principal or a trip to the police station is going to get me out of this one.' Her voice thickened. 'I burned your place down, Red. I know you won't be surprised, I was bound to screw up sooner or later.' Her voice cracked and she bit down on her lower lip. 'I'm so sorry. I'll meet you there in the morning.'
She hung up and stared at the phone, her vision blurry. Damn it, she wasn't going to cry now. She dialed again. 'Lorissa.'
''Lo,' came her friend's sleepy voice.
'I'm sorry to wake you…'
'Sam? Hey, hon, what's up?' Muffling the receiver, Lorissa murmured something out of range, and Sam heard Cole's low reply. Lorissa came back on the phone with an apologetic laugh. 'I'm sorry. You caught me in the middle of-'
'Wild Cherries is gone.'
Lorissa stopped laughing and the sleepiness disappeared from her voice. After all they'd each been through in their lives, separately and together, neither of them ever joked about things like this, ever. Sam heard her say, 'Cole, baby, I need a moment.' Then she was back. 'What do you mean gone?'
'Burned. To the ground. Or at least I think it is. It was looking pretty shaky when I saw it last.'
'Oh my God. Where are you, are you okay, what happened-?'
'I'm at Jack's now, and I'm fine. More or less.'
'More or less? What does that mean?' Panic and fear filled her voice. 'I'll be right there-'
'No, really. I'm okay.' Sam looked down at her bandaged hand, which was beginning to throb like a son of a bitch. 'Just a few stitches in my hand, that's all. Lorissa, we're both out of a steady job.'
'Hey, we've been poor before.'
Sam leant on the countertop and closed her eyes. The adrenaline was finished. The sexual excitement was gone. And she was left with nothing but a bone-deep weariness. 'But this time, it's bad. I have nothing. Nothing left.'
'Honey, being jobless, that we can manage. Homeless, too. You know you'll stay with me. But being without you… nope. No can do. So I figure everything is damn good. Now tell me where Jack lives, I'll be right over-'
'I'll be okay but can I meet you at the cafe in the morning?'
Lorissa was quiet a moment. 'Is he taking good care of you then?'
Sam felt a hand settle on her shoulder, a big, warm, comforting hand, and her eyes filled. Was he taking good care of her? He'd held her hand in the ER, even after turning an entertaining shade of green when they'd brought out the needles. He'd carried her into his house, given her his bed and then had caved when she'd thrown herself at him, loving her body and soul into the oblivion she'd asked for. 'Yeah. He is.' Her voice trembled. She still didn't look at Jack, standing behind her, using two hands now to massage the tightness out of her neck and shoulders, moving his fingers in a soothing, circular motion, up and down her spine. 'I'll see you in the morning.'
'You promise you're okay?'
'I promise I will be.'
'Oh, Sam.' Lorissa started to cry. 'I love you.'
She bit back her sob. 'Love you, too.' Reaching out, she hung up the phone, but kept her head down. 'Sorry,' she managed to Jack. 'Didn't mean to wake you.'
'You didn't.' With his long fingers, he scooped her hair out of his way, baring her neck to him. 'I knew you weren't sleeping. I was just trying to give you your space.'
That was so unexpectedly sweet, she felt a tear break loose. She kept her head down until she thought she could control her emotions. 'Thanks.'
Again he stroked his hand over her back. 'I think you've had enough space, Sam.'
Lifting her head, she turned on the bar stool so that she could face him. He'd pulled on a pair of sweat bottoms and nothing else. In the harsh glare of the kitchen light, his hair stuck straight up-probably from her own fingers. He had a five o'clock shadow on his jaw, and his shoulder sported a red mark that looked suspiciously teeth-shaped-her teeth.
He looked sexy as hell, and she wanted him again. Standing, she slipped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against him. 'You're right. I don't want any more space. Not for the rest of the night. Take me back to bed, Jack.'
'Your hand-'
'Will be fine, as long as you've got yours on me.' She sighed when he scooped her up against his warm, hard chest. 'I guess I need to reconsider this he-man thing. I think I like it.' Her arms slipped around his neck. 'I like it a lot.'
Back in his bedroom, he set her on the rumpled bed. The only light came from the hallway, slanting shadows across the room as he lowered himself over her, bridging her body with his arms. He stroked the lone tear from her cheek. 'I don't suppose you'd take a pain pill and get some rest.'
She ran her hands up his bare, sleek back, then down again, slipping them beneath his low slung sweats to hold on to the sweetest, hardest male buns she'd ever seen.
A low laugh escaped him as he cupped her face and moved his hips against hers. 'Okay, so you're not ready to sleep, yet.'
'Don't tell me you are.' A little moan escaped her when he rolled his hips again, his body unmistakably responding to their play. 'Oh, goodie.'
'And this time when we're done,' he murmured softly, dropping a sweet, clinging kiss on her lips, 'if you still can't sleep, you'll tell me.'
'I don't want to keep you up all night.'
'You'll tell me,' he said firmly, kissing her again, then lifting his head and looking into her eyes. 'And I'll keep you company until you can.'
'What will we do?'
'Whatever you want.'
'Jack-'
Again he lowered his mouth to hers, and she met him halfway. It was what she wanted, the mindlessness of it, the easy release. Hot, fast, sweaty sex-just what the doctor should have ordered.
Only it was as if he already knew her too well because he changed tactics on her, giving her the one thing she couldn't resist, or hide behind. Gentleness. Tenderness. An unfathomable soul-wrenching connection, lingering over
