Carly Phillips - Brazen

Sam didn't like the way her thoughts were going, and she tried to concentrate on her feet instead, which wasn't difficult, since he'd pulled off her other shoe and settled in to work. His hands massaged and coaxed along her arch and up her calves.

Long, sensual strokes alternated with short, deep thrusts of his fingers into her tender muscles. "You surprised me tonight," he said.

"You mean you aren't used to being mauled by women?" Sam held no illusions. He might have taken charge, but she had definitely approached him first.

He laughed. "I was talking about you helping out around here. You pitched in when I needed it most. I appreciate it."

His hands had moved higher, working their way up her thigh. She tensed, but under his continued ministrations, she began to relax again and enjoy.

"I can pay you Theresa's salary," he said.

"You already paid Theresa her salary," she reminded him.

"Because her family needs the money and Bear won't mind. You don't need to work for free. It isn't much, but…"

Sam could barely concentrate on anything but the feel of his hands on her bare skin and the thought of where they were headed next. But through the tingling sensations and the desire, she got a solid view of Mac. A special, caring man… hers for the duration of her stay, if she wanted him to be. And she did.

In return, he needed to know what she wanted from him, and that didn't include cash. "I don't want your money, Mac."

He muttered something she almost missed. Something that sounded like "That would be a first," but his agile fingers had reached the hem of her skirt and she knew she couldn't trust anything she heard except her own rapid breathing.

"Why not?" he asked. "You earned it."

"I don't take payment for things I enjoy, and I enjoyed helping you."

"I'm sure you picked up a lot in tips tonight, anyway," he said.

"I didn't do too badly for my first night." She grinned.

"You're a hell of a woman, Sammy Jo." His drawl was deliberate, she knew, as was the way his finger dipped beneath the lace in her panties. At that first intimate touch, she let out a slow moan, accompanied by a tremor her body couldn't control.

"Is this the way you show your gratitude?" she asked, trying to keep the moment between them light even as his finger moved over the lace, rubbing back and forth with unerring accuracy. It didn't work. Fire shot straight through her body, making her burn.

"No, sweetheart. I'm doing this because it turns you on and I enjoy that." To her disappointment, though, he slipped his fingers out from beneath her skirt. His hand shook as he placed it on her thigh. That telling gesture made his withdrawal easier to take. She wasn't alone in this swirling, all-encompassing state of desire.

"But I want you wide awake and participating, not exhausted from working behind the bar." He placed a gentle kiss on her lips before bending to retrieve her shoes.

"Go on up and I'll meet you after I've cleaned up."

Sam blinked, her mind unable to comprehend his words because her body was strung so tight she thought she might explode. She could attempt to seduce him, but she didn't want their first time to be in the bar.

Despite her inexperienced technique, she'd made it this far. She was more than content to let him take the lead. As she offered a wave and headed for the stairs, she realized Mac was right. She was exhausted. From the look of things down here, he might be a while and she could put the time to good use. After she relaxed, she would set exactly the right mood.

Mac hit the top step at a run. When was the last time he had a woman he'd invited warming his bed? Okay, not his bed, but he'd make do. Because not only did he like what he saw, but he liked what he'd learned about her, too. She wasn't selfish and greedy, but considerate and giving beyond belief. Not only to Mac when he needed a hand, but to Zee and the other regular customers, who made it a point to mention how much they liked his new waitress . She fit in, which surprised him, considering he'd bet his last dollar she'd never waited tables in her life.

They generated such instant and spontaneous combustion, it was hard to believe he'd only known Samantha for a couple of hours. When he opened the door, he walked into a candlelit room. He had to give her credit for ingenuity. She must have snuck back downstairs while he was cleaning and swiped the red candle holders from the tables. Thick white candles flickered in the darkness, casting a muted glow, creating a sexy atmosphere.

Mac's gaze went straight for the bed to see what other surprises awaited him. Samantha had crawled on top of the covers fully dressed, cuddled up with one pillow… and had fallen fast asleep.

His gaze fell on her sleeping form. Light from the candles shimmered over her face, drawing his attention to her delicate profile, high cheekbones and full lips. Lips he'd like to sample again. It wouldn't be happening, he thought, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Which was a good thing, considering he'd promised himself to take things slowly and read the subtle signs she gave out. Not the overt ones, like the candlelit room decorated for seduction.

He eased himself beside her on the bed and tucked a wayward strand of hair off her cheek. She sighed softly and cuddled close to him. Interesting how she instinctively went toward him, even at her most defenseless. His heart gave a lurch.

In sleep, she looked more lost than she had when she'd wandered into the bar. Judging from the trouble she'd gone to setting up this seduction, he sensed, as he had earlier, that she considered a sexual encounter an answer to her problems. It would be too easy to succumb to temptation and take what she offered. If he did, he'd never see her again.

Mac didn't know how he knew this to be true. He just did. Losing Samantha before he got to know her wasn't an option. For now, he would take care of her and give her time to confide in him. Even if he had to sit on his hands and pray, he'd damn well do his best not to muddy the waters with sex. At least not yet.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her soft skin and she murmured to herself in her sleep. A bad dream? Mac pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the throbbing in his groin brought on by even that innocent touch. Because more than he wanted her, he wished he could make whatever she was running from go away.

He wasn't anybody's white knight, and he didn't normally look for the nearest damsel in distress to rescue. But he wanted to protect this woman. He wanted to take care of Samantha. Mac didn't question why. He had a week to find out.

When his internal clock woke him early the next morning, he realized he hadn't slept much at all. How could he with Samantha's small but firm body tucked into his and her hand wrapped around a morning erection that had nothing to do with the time of day and everything to do with the woman beside him?

Good intentions aside, he'd gone to bed wanting her and awakened wanting her even more. Last night's erotic episode after closing stayed with him. He could still recall her moist heat against his fingertips and could easily envision his body sliding into hers. The soft noises coming from beside him told him she slept soundly, which put off the inevitable test of his resolve.

With a groan, he rolled over and dragged himself out of bed. He couldn't help but glance back once more. She'd rolled to his side of the bed and wrapped herself around a pillow. His pillow. And damned if she didn't look like she belonged there. Mac shook his head. A cold shower would take care of his problem at least temporarily. It would also clear his mind to face the start of his week with Samantha.