Seeking Vengeance (6 page)

Molly's heart thundered in her ears as she fought the impulse to twist out of his grip. She had to prove to him that he wasn't bad. His fingers worked into the hair at the nape. She couldn't suppress the shiver that rippled down her back, but she lifted her chin in defiance.

His gaze lowered to her mouth, and her heart sped up, only it wasn't fear this time. When he leaned towards her, she raised on tiptoe to meet him.

She expected a rough kiss, but his
lips brushed hers teasingly. Closing her eyes, her other senses came alive. His scent filled the air she breathed. Shaving cream, soap and a light muskiness. It was completely male and all encompassing. She pulled his head down with one hand, wanting more. The kiss, begun in anger and defiance, grew bolder as she touched his chest. It felt warm and firm beneath her fingers, his heart thudding against her palm.

The kiss deepened as he pulled her against his body and tilted his head. When he began nibbling a path down her throat, she thought her knees would buckle.

“Mommy!”

The screen door slammed and Molly shoved away from Sam. He turned from her without a word and stalked to the front window.

She smoothed her hair away from her face and faced the kitchen doorway just as Kelsie burst through.

“
Hey, hon—what are you hollering about?”

“
I caught a lightning bug!” She had her hands cupped and lifted them in front of Molly's face.

“
Wow! You must be faster than a greased pig at a sausage factory to catch one of those by yourself.”

Kelsie beamed.
“I am.” She skipped towards the window. “Want to see, Mr. Sam?”

Sam turned and when Kelsie opened her hands to show him, the bug flew out.

“Oh no! He's getting away,” Kelsie squealed.

His hand shot out, catching the escapee.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” He gently put his closed hand over Kelsie's and Molly was struck by the contrast of his strong tanned hands and Kelsie's small pudgy ones.

“
Thanks!” Kelsie's tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on not squishing her prisoner. “Can I keep him for a pet?”

Molly crossed her arms as she shook her head.
“Hon, don't you think his family will miss him?”

Kelsie's lip jutted out like she was going to protest, but after a moment, she nodded.
“Yeah. His mommy would miss him, just like you'd miss me.”

Molly winced at
Sam's stricken look. She ushered Kelsie towards the kitchen, throwing a glance over her shoulder. He once again had his back to the room. “That's right, sweetie. Why don't we go return your little guy to the backyard and tomorrow night, you can visit him again. How does that sound?”

“
Sure, Mommy.”

Molly ruffled Kelsie's curls, thankful for her daughter's easygoing nature. 

Kelsie beamed up at her. “I named him Buggy.”

Only half-listening, Molly said,
“That's a perfect name.” She held the door as Kelsie ran out to the middle of the yard and consulted with Gavin, who was still pouncing on hapless lightning bugs. A few seconds later, after some whispered message into her hands, Kelsie released Buggy back to the wild.

When the boy ran to catch i
t, Kelsie yelled at him. Molly leaned against the doorframe, a smile curving her lips at her daughter's protectiveness of her Buggy. She couldn't imagine life without her sweet little girl and swallowed a lump in her throat at what Sam must have gone through—was still going through. For a brief moment, when he had pulled her close, she had felt a spark of fear, but thinking back, his grip had been firm but not forceful. It was a world of difference from other experiences she had endured. The taste of his kiss lingered on her lips.

The twilight deepened and Molly
pushed away from the doorway, taking a few steps into the yard. She squatted beside her daughter who was watching a lightning bug glow in a tuft of grass. She put her arm around her shoulders, drawing her up. “Bath time, hon.”

* * *

Sam sat on the sofa and worked on his boot. The leather was stiff and he swore as he bent it back and forth. He should have asked Molly to pick up some cheap boots, just something to get him on his bike and out of here. There was no denying it. If he stayed any longer, he'd end up doing something he'd regret. His chest seemed to burn where her hand had rested. Sam sucked in a breath and yanked at the leather, hoping that if he concentrated on the boot hard enough, he could forget the way the defiance in her eyes had flamed into something more— a passion and fire that threatened to consume him. He swallowed hard. And her body. She'd melted against him and he'd felt every curve. It felt so right, but it couldn't be. He slammed the door on the possibilities. There wasn't time for complications. 

Pain washed
over him as he heard Kelsie chattering in the bathroom. Every time he spoke to her, he thought of his son. Sean would be eight now, but when he'd died, he was just a little older than Kelsie. It wasn't the little girl's fault, but every giggle and innocent question felt like someone ripping the scab off a wound. He wasn't ready to be around kids, that much was certain.

With a muttered curse, he turned his attention back to the task at hand, and pushed against
the toe of the boot to loosen it. The effort caused pain to pulsate through his shoulders and he lost his grip on the boot. It thudded to the floor.

“
Sam?” Molly hurried into the room. Her skin glowed from the heat and steam of the bathroom. 

He ached to caress
it. “Sorry. Just dropped my boot.” The pain in his back forgotten, he tried not to stare at the damp spot on the front of her shirt. It caused the fabric to cling in all the right places.

Something of what he felt must have shown on his face, because her cheeks turned rosy
and she backed down the hallway before she ducked into the bathroom again. “Hurry up and brush, Kels. You're already up past your bedtime.”

For the next twenty minutes, Sam sat in the li
ving room. He pretended it was because his back and leg hurt too much to move, but the soft murmurs and giggles coming from Kelsie's room sounded like the sweetest music to his ears. Despite the ache centered in his chest, he relished the memories that rushed to the front of his brain. He saw himself making his son’s breakfast, supervising his baths and best of all, tucking him in at night. On evenings like this, Sean would play outside until the last ray of sunlight had been swallowed by the horizon, and then he'd fight sleep. It was as if he was so afraid he'd miss something that Sam would have to corral the boy and throw him over a shoulder kicking and hollering. By the time they reached Sean's room, the child would be belly laughing and pounding on Sam's back.

Sam would toss him like
a sack of potatoes on the bed, then he'd tuck him in. He inhaled, remembering the scent of his son's hair. It was a sweet mixture of little boy sweat, sunshine and fresh air. 

His breath caught as his throat swelled. It hurt so damn bad. He bent his head and tried to swallow the knot of pain. Tears sprang to his eyes and he blinked them away. He was a grown man, for Pete's sake.

The sofa cushion dipped and he felt Molly sit beside him. Embarrassed, he refused to look at her. He hadn't cried since the funeral. Now, in the space of a few hours, he'd been reduced to tears twice for no reason. 

Molly' rested her hand on his forearm, stroking gently. She didn't speak, just touched. Her fingers
, feather-light, seared a path on his skin. He held his breath when her hand dropped to his leg. She applied more pressure, running her hand up the outside of his thigh.

Grief and desire collided, merging into a supernova of emotion. Sam stood and pulled her up against him. She offered no resistance as he covered her mouth with his own.  His hands roamed her back as they kissed. He shivered as her fingers ran through his hair. She tasted so good, and he couldn't get enough. He soaked up her touch and taste like parched earth in a summer storm. He slid a hand beneath her shirt and thrilled at the shudder that swept her as he cupped her breast.  Her skin was smooth and warm. She offered her neck to him as he trailed kisses to her collarbone.

“Wait. Not here.”

Sam dragged his mouth away.
“What?”

“
My room. Not here.” Molly tugged his hand and led him down the hall.

He admired the fit of
her jeans as she led the way. Inside, she shut the door and pressed him against it with a kiss as she worked at the buttons of his shirt. Surprised, but turned on more than he thought possible, he allowed her to do what she wished. He groaned when she licked his chest and grinned at the impish gleam in her eyes.  

He decided two could play this game as he reached for the hem of her polo and tugged it over her
head, tossing it to the side. Her arms draped around his neck, and he slid his hands over her shoulders and down her back as he claimed another kiss. He needed her skin against his, and he sought the clasp on her bra, making short work of it, easing the straps down her arms. She pressed against his chest and he groaned, wanting to savor every new sensation but needing even more.

He ached to taste and
touch every inch of her. As though reading his mind, she backed up until her legs hit the edge of the bed and then she lay back. The impish smile was gone, instead her eyes burned into his as she undid the snap on her jeans. Sam swallowed. Hard.

* * *

Molly gripped the edge of the bathroom vanity. What had she done? Her nerves still tingled. The few times she'd been with men since Kelsie had been born had been brief, disappointing encounters. One had been a fellow paramedic that Molly had been attracted to for months. When they'd gone out, she'd been too eager. When she saw him a few days later, she'd been devastated when he'd treated her no differently than before. She'd been so wrapped up in her crush on the guy that she'd been blinded to the fact that he didn't feel the same way about her. She was just an easy lay to him. Embarrassed at her behavior, she'd only dated one other man since then. That time, she'd let him pursue her, and after several months, they slept together. It had ended in a disaster of awkwardness. It had been worse before Kelsie’s birth, but she rarely allowed those memories to surface. There was no comparison to what she and Sam had done, with the act that had resulted in Kelsie’s birth. Technically, it might have been the same thing, but emotionally, they were polar opposites. Unwilling to spoil tonight’s magic, Molly pushed the painful memories from her past back into the vault in her mind where she kept them under lock and key.

After that, she swore off men, sure that there must be something wrong with her. Sex wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, and she didn't miss it. Or so she'd believed, until now. 

Sam had taken things slow, allowing her desire to go from simmering to a full boil before he’d entered her. He kept her on the edge until she wanted to explode—and then she
did
explode. At least, it felt like it. Molly blushed at her reflection in the mirror. The feeling had been like nothing she'd ever experienced before. What must he think of her? Covering her face with her hands, she felt heat climb her cheeks as she remembered how she had moaned and whimpered without shame at the time, but now? Now, she wanted to die of embarrassment.  

The second Sam finished, Molly had rolled off the bed and escaped to the bathroom, mumbling about cleaning up. She opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed her birth control pills, popping out the one for today and down
ing it with a handful of water. She splashed some more water on her face, brushed her teeth and combed her hair. She glanced at the back of the door, relieved to see her sleep shirt hanging there. It wasn't much, just a comfy old t-shirt, but she didn't think she could parade in front of Sam nude—even if he had already seen all of her. 

Now what should she do? She couldn't very well banish him to the cou
ch after what they'd shared. Molly hugged the t-shirt to her chest.  Had he really shared himself with her or had she just been a convenient emotional outlet? Did she have feelings for him beyond that of being grateful that he'd saved Johnny? It wasn’t just gratitude, she knew that, but it might have been that mixed with an incredible attraction. Balling the shirt up, she buried her face in it. What had she done?

Molly
pulled the shirt over her head and took a deep breath before opening the door. She needn't have worried about covering herself because Sam dozed, his dark hair brushing over his forehead, giving him a boyish look. Padding to the side of the bed, Molly tried to slip under the covers without disturbing him.

His bare chest rose and fell with each breath and his pulse beat steadily in his neck. She'd seen him sleeping before on the sofa, but this was different. He wasn't burning with fever or grimacing in pain now. Instead, he was dead to the world, completely relaxed. Molly smiled and longed to run her fingers over his chest and explore him as he'd done her. She'd been too shy to indulge her desires and she wondered if there would be a second opportunity. His wounds had healed enough for him to ride his bike and she
knew he'd be leaving tomorrow. Now might be her only chance.