Brenda Jackson - Sleeping with the Sheikh - The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior

He was soon flush against her back, returning his hand to the place that wept for his attention. This time he delved into the damp folds until he found her center to caress and cajole with firm yet tender fingertips. She was soon caught up in a whirlwind of sensory details surrounding her—freshly cut hay, mingled with the scent of leather and Sam. She heard his shallow breathing and the sounds of horses chomping their hay. But all sounds, all smells disappeared as he fondled her straight into oblivion.

The climax began to build and build, and she only knew that she wanted him inside her now. Reaching back to grasp his hips, she pulled him forward, and he entered in one sharp, enthralling thrust, bringing about an earth-moving climax.

She turned her face toward him and accepted his deep, penetrating kiss. His tongue captured the rhythm of his body as he explored her eager mouth while he moved inside her, stifling her gasps as he filled her completely.

He continued to stroke her even after her release had subsided. “Again, Andrea.”

“I’m not sure—”

“I am,” he insisted. “You will.”

Amazingly, she did, moments before Sam found his own release. He gripped her hips, and a steady groan escaped his mouth as she absorbed the weight of his body against hers. Burying his face between her shoulder blades, he held her tightly. She couldn’t tell who was shaking more, him or her. They were so close it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. So close that Andi wanted to stay this way forever.

“You take me to limits I have never known before,” he whispered. “I have never known anything such as this.”

Neither had Andi. And she would probably never know anything like it again.

Reality took hold when she suddenly realized that someone had pulled up into the drive. And, considering the familiar sound of the noisy tailpipe, she knew exactly who that someone might be.

“Tess!”

Shoving Sam away with a push of her hips, she yanked the bandanna from her eyes and pulled her pants back up. She fumbled for her shirt, now covered in sawdust and straw, and pulled it over her head.

Awareness finally hit Sam but he seemed in no hurry. “Get dressed,” Andi hissed. “She might come in here.”

“I assume she would put away the groceries first,” he said, taking his sweet time redoing his jeans.

She shoved his shirt at him. “Your assumptions could be wrong, and we’d have the devil to pay.”

He had the gall to grin.

Sam Yaman was much too confident, Andi decided. Too practiced in his efficiency, she thought, when he calmly tossed the condom and package into the trash bin then covered it with a feed sack.

He turned his deadly grin back on her. “All evidence has been disposed of, and no one will know what deeds have been done in this room.”

Andi glanced down at her disheveled clothes and could only imagine how she would look to her aunt. “Guess I could tell Tess that we had an unexpected tornado come through the barn.”

He kicked the door closed, taking Andi by surprise. “We could lock out the world and stay in here the remainder of the afternoon.” He stalked toward her and pulled her into his arms. “After all, we still have much to learn about each other.”

“I’d be willing to spend a lifetime having you teach me.”

His expression went serious. “If only that were possible.”

Suddenly chilled, she backed out of his embrace. “Don’t look so worried, Sam. I told you I don’t expect anything. I was just spouting off.”

“You have no idea how much I wish that we could be together.” Her heart soared, then fell once again when he declared, “But that is not possible.”

She propped a hand on her hip and glared at him. “I’ve always believed that anything’s possible.”

“Not in this instance, Andrea.”

She forced back the unexpected tears burning hot behind her eyes. “Why? Because of your duty? Don’t you realize you could be happy here with us? I’ve seen your happiness, Sam. You smile more now. You’re enjoying yourself, especially with Chance. You might as well be wearing a blindfold if you don’t see it, too.”

He kicked the barrel containing the feed, causing a loud thump that would surely give them away if anyone were nearby. “Of course I am happy here. I have always been happy here. But that does not change my circumstance. I have to see to my obligations.”

How many more times would she have to hear this? “Obligations to whom? Your father?”

“To my…” He looked away. “Yes, to my father. To my people.”

Andi swiped away one rogue tear. “Well, great. I guess that doesn’t include your son.” Or me.

“I have told you I will provide—”

“Money. I know. But that won’t buy you his love, Sam. Your money and your station won’t buy you happiness, either.”

Without a word he yanked open the door and left Andi alone with her sorrow once more. If only he knew how much she loved him. If only he would consider the possibilities. But something was keeping him from doing that, and she wondered if there was more to his resistance than his duty. Something he was failing to tell her.

She intended to find out the sheikh’s secrets, even if it was the last thing she did before he left.

Sam spent the coming days working on the stable with Riley, but he spent the nights in Andrea’s arms. She had proved to be an uninhibited lover, wild in the ways that she pleased him. Each time they were together, he discovered something new about her, acknowledged that she was forever imbedded in his soul.

He engaged in a constant battle between guilt and desire, love and responsibility. His desire and love for Andrea had won out, at least for now. When he took Maila as his wife—if he took her as his wife—he was sentencing himself to a loveless union. And when he took her to his bed, he would forever imagine Andrea.

That would be doing a grave disservice to Maila. She was a good woman who deserved a man who could give more of himself. An educated woman who, like him, agreed to the union out of a sense of obligation to their families. Yet if Sam ended the arrangement, in doing so he would encounter his father’s scorn.

He would have to decide what would be best for everyone involved, a decision that would not come easily. And in a scarce few days, he would be leaving his son, and Andrea.

After his shower, he walked downstairs to find Andrea on the phone. She worried her bottom lip as she spoke quietly. “Okay, sweetie. You sleep tight now, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sam seated himself on the sofa and gestured for Andrea to join him after she replaced the phone in its cradle. The concern in her expression could not be denied, even when she smiled at him.

“That was Chance,” she said. “He wanted to make sure we’re going to pick him up in the limo.”

Sam returned her smile to mask his own worry. “And you assured him that we would?”

“Yes.”

Sam patted the seat beside him. “Come tell me what is troubling you.”

Instead of taking her place next to him, she curled into his lap. He held her tightly, savoring the scent of her shower-damp hair and the softness of her fragile body encased in satin.

“I’m worried about Chance,” she said.

“Is he not well?”

She glanced up at him, then tucked her head beneath his chin. “He says he’s fine, but he sounds tired.”

“I would assume he is tired.”

“I hope that’s all it is.”

He brushed a kiss over her forehead and stroked her hair. “What would lead you to believe otherwise?”

“Mother’s intuition. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid like always.”

“You are only concerned for his well-being, Andrea.”