Samurai Game (39 page)

She complied, pulling the stopper to allow the water to flow out. Sam wrapped her in a towel and lifted her out, drying her thoroughly before working the knot out of her hair so it could fall free down her back. He buried his face in the silky mass.

“I love your hair.”

She smiled up at him. “You always make me feel beautiful, Sam.”

He hugged her tight. “You
are
beautiful. Hell, woman, get a clue.”

She snuggled against his chest. “I’m glad you think so.” She put her arms around him and held him tight. “You know I can’t help being protective of you, Sam.”

He laughed and scooped her up. “I feel the same way toward you.” But he heard that little caution in her voice. She was serious about something and didn’t think he was going to like it—which meant he probably wouldn’t.

He carried her to the bed and tossed her onto the mattress, coming down beside her and dragging up the covers. “Just say it.”

“Do you think General Ranier is working with Whitney?” When he remained silent, she lifted her hand to his face. “I ask because he appears to be some of the time, but I can’t be certain. Would he betray you to serve Whitney?”

Sam swore to himself, detesting that he couldn’t give her a straight answer. “General Ranier is a patriot. He loves his country and has dedicated his life to serving it.”

She continued to look at him, not saying a word, yet answering him very eloquently with her silence.

Sam pulled her close, kissing her hard. “Go to sleep, baby. I’m waking you up in an hour or so.” He kissed her again, his throat aching. “Just go to sleep.”

CHAPTER 15

S
am kept his eyes closed, afraid if he opened them, he would know everything had been a drug induced illusion. His hand reached out and beside him, the bed was empty. His heart skipped a beat and his mind rejected the idea that making love with Azami had all been a dream. For a moment, he was the young boy in the darkened doorway, terrified of moving, of breathing even, because the world would come crashing down.

He inhaled, and her fragrance still lingered in the room mixed with their combined scents. He’d made love to her three times, waking her again and again and still, it wasn’t enough to sate him. He wanted her again with every bit as much intensity and passion as he had the first time. There was no doubt in his mind, he would always feel that way about her.

Be real, baby,
he murmured in his mind, reaching for her. Needing her to be real.

Silly man. I’m fixing your coffee.

He let his breath out slowly and opened his eyes.
You’re a goddess.

Her soft laughter warmed him, and he lay there a moment just savoring the feeling of being cared for—of love and laughter.

Morning light poured through the window, glowing through a light mist. Outside, tree branches swayed gently, the leaves rustling to add to the music of the running water. The rays of the sun streamed through the tree branches, golden spotlights playing over the rippling stream. The fine layer of mist added a feeling of being cocooned in his own world. He picked up the pillow beside him and took Azami’s scent deep into his lungs before stroking a caress over the pillowcase as he replaced it neatly beside his own. Throwing off the covers, he stretched lazily before padding barefoot and naked to the window to look out into the forest.

A small herd of deer moved along the trail leading to the stream. Dipping their muzzles, some drank while others served as guards. His world. He’d never really seen and appreciated it before. The forest and outdoors had always brought him a semblance of peace, but having Azami in his life had changed his perspective on things. He found himself smiling for no reason at all as he turned back to pad across the room to the bathroom.

When he emerged from his shower, a towel riding low on his hips, she was there, looking so beautiful he couldn’t breathe for a moment. She carried a mug of fresh coffee. The aroma blended with her scent, a welcoming start to any morning. He found himself smiling like an idiot as he took the mug and bent to kiss her.

“You look beautiful this morning.”

Her hair was back up in that twisty thing she liked, each ornate pin in place, with those few artful long strands hanging down around her neck and shoulders making her look sexier than ever to him. He wanted to remove those pins slowly all over again. She wore her silken robe, and clearly nothing else beneath it, but she smelled like heaven, so she’d had her bath. Even her hair had a fresh, citrus fragrance he couldn’t quite place but he found alluring. His free hand curled around the nape of her neck. She looked serene, demure even, yet her eyes, when she looked at him, held liquid heat, bumping his pulse rate up.

“How can you look so innocent after last night?”

She gave him her mysterious smile. “A woman must have her secrets, Sammy.” Her smile widened and she walked on bare feet over to the neatly folded clothing on top of the dresser.

Sam took a slow sip of coffee, watching her intently. She moved like water, a flowing, fluid motion so effortless she seemed not to displace the air around her. He had a difficult time detecting any surge of energy whatsoever around her. She was at such harmony with her surroundings, she blended in, rather than stood out.

The silk slid from her shoulders inch by inch, slowly revealing the rising phoenix, the long intriguing tail feathers, so lacy, curling along the curve of her buttocks. He nearly choked on his coffee, and his body reacted instantly to the sight of her naked body.

“I’m going to have a hell of a hard-on all day, thanks to you,” he accused.

She turned her head, a graceful movement, her long lashes fluttering as she observed him with her dark eyes. “I am glad, Sam. I want you to think of me throughout the day. That will please me, knowing you are looking forward to our bath tonight.”

His cock jerked hard at the memory of the way she’d cared for him. He groaned. “You’re killing me, honey.”

She took a scrap of lace in her hands and slowly pulled it up over her legs, lace shaping her buttocks lovingly while a single lacy strap disappeared between her rounded cheeks. Sam groaned again and stepped close to grasp one firm cheek in the palm of his hand. She smiled at him and moved her bottom more snugly into his hand. Both her hands went to the back of her head, lacing her fingers together, and her lashes lowered, her lips parting slightly.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength. Hot blood rushed to his groin and the memory of the taste of her filled his mouth. She was naturally sensual, every movement as precise and flowing as when she was in battle or pouring tea. His body had gone so hard he was afraid to take a step, afraid he might shatter. He swallowed hard and dropped the towel from around his hips, one hand closing around his aching erection briefly before reaching around her with both hands to cup the slight weight of her breasts.

He bent his head to her inviting neck, kissing his way down to her shoulder while his fingers plucked and teased at her nipples. Her small body shifted back against him, her skin rubbing along his like a cat.

I am picturing you at my feet right about now, with that pretty mouth of yours filled with my cock.

Really?
Her head went back against his chest. Her arm came up around his neck to draw his head down to her lips. She kissed him, drawing his tongue into her mouth until he was groaning at the simulation of what he wanted.
You had only to say so. It will be my pleasure.

The joy in her voice, in her mind, made his body all the hotter. He hadn’t known until that moment that his enjoyment was off the map because of her enjoyment. That was the reason his body responded to her the way it did. Crazy hard. Hot and pounding with urgent need. So close to loss of control. Mind-blowing.

Azami turned in his arms, her breasts brushing enticingly against his chest. She pressed a kiss over his heart and then on various scars along his ribs and down to his belly. His breath caught in his throat as her hands cupped his balls, rolling and squeezing gently before sliding up to circle the girth of his cock. His breath left his lungs in a rush.

She took her time, just the way she did everything. Careful. Fully engaged. Complete concentration. And so damned loving he felt he’d died and gone to heaven. Her soft lips brushed over the sensitive velvet head, small kisses, her tongue swirling around to catch the pearl droplets. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she went to her knees in front of him, her gaze locking with his. The sight of her sent his heart pounding and his hips rocking. She was the most beautiful woman—the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

One hand slipped between his legs, massaging along his inner thigh, her fingers moving progressively higher as her mouth slid over the head of his cock. Hot. Wet. Tight. Her tongue danced over and under, hitting that sweet spot that sent a shudder of pleasure down his spine. Fire raced through his veins and raged in his groin, roaring like a firestorm in his belly. Her mouth tightened around him and her fingers found that spot right behind his balls, caressing and massaging while her mouth worked over him.

This moment was for him—all for him; he could see it in her eyes. The giving. The gift of her body to him. The selfless act of passion. The joy in her vibrated through her mouth straight to his hard flesh. The small hand at the base of his cock began to squeeze and release in time to the pull of her mouth and the massaging of her fingers. The suction was hard and tight, and then slow and easy, shallow and then deep with that clever little tongue teasing at the one spot that kept his body shuddering with pleasure.

Sam couldn’t take his eyes from her even as his hips began to take over the rhythm, his cock on fire in that silken, wet tunnel.
Take a breath.
Because he needed this now. He couldn’t stop the small thrust that took him deeper and damn it all, he’d been proud of being long and thick, but he was pushing her to the limit and he couldn’t stop the need building in him—
raging
in him.
Another.
He pushed deeper each time, holding there for just a moment while she squeezed and massaged his cock, while the fire burned out of control in his cock.

She gave herself up to him, coughing a little, but following his command each time he told her to take a breath. The heat built and built, the pressure never ending, never letting up. He could feel the fiery storm in his balls, and those clever fingers never stopped massaging, pressing deeper just as she took him deeper, her mouth so tight, so silky, he couldn’t stop the hard thrust of his body as she took him over the edge.

Her long lashes fluttered as her throat worked, but she was valiant and determined, her mouth loving him as he poured into her. He stayed for as long as possible in pure ecstasy before slowly softening while her tongue washed him the way her hands had done, with meticulous care and total commitment.

Sam’s knees threatened to give out. He stood on shaky legs waiting for his brain to work again. Azami stood up gracefully, a small pleased smile on her face as she leaned over him, her hands cupping him gently so she could place a kiss on the head of his cock.

“Thank you, Sammy. I love pleasing you.”

Before he could find his voice, she padded barefoot into the bathroom, and he could hear her rinsing out her mouth with the unhurried, fluid movements he had come to expect from her. He stood in the middle of the bedroom, breathing deep, shocked that his life had changed in the blink of an eye, shocked that a woman such as Azami could possibly give herself to him the way she did—so completely.

She reentered the room, looking just as innocent and demure as she had earlier, as if she hadn’t just taken him to heaven. She reached for the small lacy bra that matched her underwear. “The garrote is such a thin wire it doesn’t show up on airport security. And if it did, it simply appears to be an underwire. It’s very comfortable, so much so, I forget it’s there most of the time.”

The moment she began to talk weapons in that sweet, soft voice, heat curled in the pit of his stomach. He sank down onto the bed to prevent himself from making a total fool of himself and falling at her feet. “Nice. I have mine sewn into the seams of my jeans.”

She nodded. “I do that as well.” She drew a pair of soft, straight-legged black trousers up her slender legs. The material was deceiving, stretching, easily moving with her body. She added a red silk blouse and picked up an intricate belt. She smiled and handed it to him.

Sam took the belt into his palm, lifting it carefully to weigh it. The belt was made of several strands of woven rope. The weave was artwork, decorative and attractive. The belt buckle was small to fit her size, a flat silver, sturdy, with what appeared to be a sunburst carved into it. “Very lightweight.”

“And handy. The rope can hold up to a thousand pounds and yet is easily shot from a crossbow to be used as an anchor to reach another building. The belt buckle is actually a throwing star, or, in a pinch, a grappling hook, reinforced titanium.”

“Very handy. That’s my woman, the walking arsenal.”