Chapter Nine
Unclean
My eyes drifted open when I felt the covers drifting down.
Then I felt Sam’s lips at the small of my back, his hand light on my bottom and his lips drifted up while his hand drifted down.
I was on my belly and I turned my head just when his lips drifted over my shoulder and his hand pressed between my legs.
I sucked in breath.
Sam’s eyes caught mine.
“Mouth,” he growled.
Without delay, half asleep but fully turned on, I lifted up and gave him my mouth.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later I was grinding down on his cock, Sam’s head was tipped back, mine tipped forward and our lips were brushing, our heavy breaths mingling.
I moved to glide up but his arm around my waist tightened, holding me down.
“Baby,” I breathed.
“You’re stayin’ an extra day in Italy, I’m takin’ you to Parma to see the da Vinci,” Sam declared on a rumble that I heard as well as felt… straight through me.
“Okay,” I agreed instantly and tried again to push up but he kept me down.
“Then I’m goin’ to Crete with you.”
I froze; my half-mast eyes opened to full and looked into his.
“Really?” I whispered, uncertain whether to laugh or cry with glee.
“Really,” he whispered back.
I held his eyes and didn’t laugh or cry. I just experienced the glorious feeling of my heart leaping with joy.
Then I agreed, “Okay.”
He smiled.
I smiled back.
Then I tilted my head and kissed him, hard.
His arm loosened and I moved.
* * * * *
I was standing in front of the full-length oval mirror, swiping mascara on my lashes when I heard a key in the lock.
My eyes went to the reflection of the door in the mirror and I watched Sam walk in wearing another pair of faded jeans that fit really well and another shirt, this one light blue, and I knew it was made of linen because it was already wrinkly.
We’d showered in my room and he’d gone to his room to change, leaving me to do my gig in my room.
And I had, including blowing out my hair, doing the Celeste perfume business and donning a sundress I bought with Celeste. This one was shorter than the one Sam had seen, clingier, a lot like a tank top but in dress form, lotus pink and clearly it had Sam’s approval considering his eyes moved to it the minute he cleared the door and didn’t leave it (or, I should say, the ass vicinity of my back in it) as he walked across the room to me.
I also had most of my makeup done.
This meant one of two things. One, Sam primped like a girl, though when he made it to me, I registered he smelled good so I figured he put on some cologne or aftershave, but other than that it didn’t appear his toilette was extensive except to shave. Or two, something held him up.
I watched him in the mirror as, eyes still on my ass, he slid a hand along my ribcage, he fit the front of his body to the back of mine and his eyes moved to my reflection in the mirror (specifically, the breast vicinity).
Before I could figure out whether or not to ask what took him so long, Sam, just like Sam, told me.
“Luci called,” he said, his gaze moving from my breasts to my eyes.
“She okay?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a woman. She wants to shop and bein’ a man that would indicate she’s not.”
I grinned then leaned forward a bit and went back to swiping mascara while explaining, “She’s perfectly fine.”
“Right,” he muttered and my eyes went from my wand to him watching me and suddenly I felt funny so I stopped.
“Are you saying she wants to shop with you or with me?” I asked.
“She wants to shop with both of us.”
I blinked into the mirror because not only was this voiced with dread; Sam was wearing a borderline look of dread on his face.
Yes, the mighty, huge, hot guy, ex-commando Sampson Cooper appeared to fear shopping.
“Are you…” I hesitated, studying him closely, “scared of shopping?”
His eyes had drifted down to my breast area again but at my question, they shot up to my face then both his arms closed around me, he shoved his face in my neck and burst out laughing.
Hmm. Maybe I read him wrong.
“Scared of shopping,” he muttered into my neck then burst out laughing again, his arms going so tight, they squeezed the breath out of me.
Yes, it would seem I read him wrong.
It appeared he didn’t fear it. He loathed it.
So noted.
“Sam, I need to finish with my mascara,” I told him, his head came up and he kept chuckling as his eyes caught mine.
“So finish,” he invited, his voice still vibrating with residual laughter.
“I can’t, you’re putting me off.”
His brows drew together. “How?”
“I don’t know, holding me, watching me, being hot. That puts a girl off.”
His brows relaxed but his body started shaking again, his mouth spreading in a huge grin through which he asked, “Me being hot puts you off?”
“Not, say, when I’m sitting, drinking wine next to you or, uh… other times. But when I have to concentrate on something important and get it right and you’re watching then, uh… yeah.”
His big grin became a bigger smile. “Mascara is important?”
“Sam,” I snapped.
His eyes left mine in the mirror because his head dipped and his mouth went to my ear and I watched as I listened to him whisper, “I was watchin’ you go down on me and I was a lot hotter then, baby. Now that was important and you didn’t seem to have any problem concentrating.”
Heat rushed between my legs, hot and wet.
Oh God.
“Sam,” I breathed.
“Fuck.” His nose brushed the skin below my ear as his hand at the side of my ribs slid up to the side of my breast. “You smell good.”
Apparently, Celeste’s perfume discovery tactic worked.
Also noted.
“You feel good,” he went on, his thumb extending and gliding under the swell of my breast.
I bit my lip and locked my shaking knees.
Sam’s arm around my belly dipped low, his fingers curled into the hem of my dress and his eyes came back to me in the mirror.
“And you look good,” he murmured, his hand ducking under my dress.
Oh God.
“Sam,” I repeated on a breath.
His hand slid into my panties.
“Can’t keep my fuckin’ hands off you.”
Oh God.
“Sam –”
I stopped talking as I sucked in breath and my head dropped back to his shoulder when his finger hit the spot.
Oh man. That felt nice.
His finger worked me, I moaned, turned my head and pressed my forehead into his neck and his other hand pulled down the top of the dress taking with it the cup of my bra and his fingers started working my nipple there.
God.
That felt nicer than nice.
“Jesus, fuck, look at you.”
I pressed my forehead in his neck.
“Fuckin’, look at you.” His finger at the spot slid down and filled me. “Beautiful.”
Both of my hands went to both of his, he kept playing with my nipple and finger fucked me before going back to my clit, pressing and rolling. I felt it with my hands and I felt what he was doing and both felt freaking great.
I whimpered.
His finger moved to slide back inside.
“Gotta have that again, baby,” he growled in my ear and I twisted my neck and did my best to focus on his eyes.
“Take it,” I whispered.
His hands moved away instantly, both going to yank up my skirt. Mine went to yank down my panties. He lifted me up, they fell from my ankles then I found myself on my hands and knees in the unmade bed, Sam on his feet behind me, his hand brushing my ass as he worked the fly of his jeans then he was inside me.
He drove forward.
I reared back.
He did it again. So did I.
We’d had a lot of sex so this lasted awhile.
A good long while.
A freaking fantastic one.
I came on a moan, my hands going out from under me, sliding forward as my back arched into the bed, my ass to the ceiling. I heard his growl then his grunts as he powered in harder, faster then I listened to his groan when he came.
After, I remained in position, getting my wits sorted, feeling him glide in and out while the fingertips of one hand drifted over my behind and hip and the other hand stayed curled around my waist and I liked that, he did it often, showing me tenderness after he took me hard. Then he pulled out, hauled me to my feet, back to him, yanked my dress down, then he held me close to his frame with an arm around my ribs as he righted his fly.
Then he turned me, lifted me, stepped in, put a knee to the bed then we were down, me on my back, Sam on top of me.
And it was then he kissed me, long, deep and sweet.
I liked that too. A lot.
He lifted his head and I looked into his satisfied, beautiful, dark brown eyes, liking that they were satisfied but liking it more that I could give him that and I informed him, “I think I dropped my mascara wand.”
He blinked.
Then he grinned.
Then he muttered, “Tragedy.”
I grinned back then went on, “And my mascara tube.”
“I’ll notify the media.”
My grin turned to a smile but I said through it, “Shut up.”
He shut up but he did this by kissing me again, longer, deeper, sweeter.
Yeah, I liked that a lot.
He released my mouth but kissed my nose.
Oh. Wow.
He’d never done that before.
That was sweet too.
Very sweet.
Then something occurred to me and I whispered, “I have to go clean up.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, touched his mouth to mine and rolled off.
I rolled the other way, got up, tagged my panties from the floor then went to the bathroom and did my thing.
I was washing my hands and looking in the mirror when it hit me Sam always put on a condom. Always, no matter how heated it got and, so far, each time, it got seriously heated.
And he clearly didn’t just now.
This was not a big deal. I was on the pill.
But Sam was so careful he was probably concerned I wasn’t and was too much of a gentleman to ask.
I needed to set his mind at ease.
I wandered into the room to the mascara wand and tube I’d dropped, I retrieved them, inspected the wand, all seemed well then I slid the wand into the tube, turned to the mirror and went back to swiping.
I did this while, hopefully casually, noting, “You should know, honey, I’m on the pill.”
My eyes flicked to Sam reflected in the mirror, reclining on his side, elbow in the bed, head in his hand, eyes on me and I saw and heard him mutter, “Good.”
Right.
That was done.
Not hard at all.
I could do this, be in a healthy relationship, communicate, move on.
Easy.
I swiped the brush against the edges of my lashes. Three times one side. Three times the other.
Except for gloss makeup done.
I was screwing the wand into the tube and had moved to my cosmetics case to drop it in when Sam said, “Unless you’ve had one, we’ll find a clinic, here or Crete, get you a test.”
I dropped the mascara in my bag and dug for my pink lip gloss that would go great with my dress while asking, “A test?”
“AIDS, other STDs.”
I froze. Then I blinked at my bag. Then, woodenly, I straightened and turned to him.
“What?”
“AIDS and other STDs,” he repeated. “You already had one?”
Numbly, I shook my head.
Sam kept talking. “We’ll get you one. Make sure you’re clean. Then, since you’re on the pill, we can lose the condoms. Shouldn’t have done that just now, you in that dress, outta my hands. Won’t do it again until we’re sure you’re clean.”
I was… clean?
I didn’t know what to say.
But I knew what to feel.
Unclean.
I turned back to my cosmetics bag and blindly dug for my lip gloss. It was blindly because my eyes had filled with tears so I couldn’t see a freaking thing.
“Kia?” Sam called.
“Mm-hmm,” I answered but even my mumble sounded thick.
“Baby?”
I swallowed then answered, “Yeah?”
That sounded thick too.
I blinked to clear my eyes and my fingers had just found the lip gloss when Sam’s hand closed around my other one and he wrapped both our arms around my belly.
Then softly in my ear he said, “Your dead husband stepped out on you. It’s fucked but it doesn’t negate the fact that I’m fuckin’ you but I’m also fuckin’ whoever he fucked. I gotta be careful and you gotta make sure you’re safe.”
“Right,” I whispered, cleared my throat because my voice sounded croaky and then I requested, “Could you, uh… let me go? I need to finish getting ready.”
“Kia –”
“Just lip gloss, jewelry then my shoes and then I really need to get something to eat.”
“Kia –”
My hand holding the gloss pushed at his arm as my hand held in his tried to twist free even as I leaned away from him and assured, “I’ll be ready in two minutes tops.”
He pulled the gloss out of my hand, tossed it back in the bag then captured mine and he wrapped both arms around me.
I went solid.
His mouth went back to my ear and he deduced, “You hadn’t thought about that.”
I hadn’t.
No.
I already felt unclean enough at the hands of Cooter.
The thought of that, the thought that that was what was in Sam’s mind every time he made love to me, enough to remember to protect himself from me, made me feel filthy.
Of course, he was only being smart.
That didn’t make me feel any less contaminated.
I didn’t reply.
I listened and felt as Sam drew in a deep breath, his chest expanding against my back then I listened to his long sigh.
Then he said, “I fucked up.”
Yes. He did.
He could have handled that subject with a lot more care.
He didn’t.
Whatever.
Onward.
“Really, let me just –”
He let my hands go, turned me to face him then his arms closed around me tight.
I lifted my hands to his biceps, put on pressure and I tipped my head back to look at him.
“Sam, really, it’s lunchtime. We slept through breakfast. I’m hungry.”
“I should have felt you out, been more aware.”
Yes. He should have.
He didn’t.
Onward!
“It’s okay. Now –”
“It isn’t.”
I snapped my mouth shut and glared up at him.
His eyes moved over my face and he whispered, “I’m sorry, baby.”
I nodded. “Like I said, it’s okay. Now, really, I’ve had some coffee in the room but I have to have some food.”
He stared at me.
Then he noted, “You’re pissed.”
I wasn’t.
I was unclean.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’ve got a right to be pissed, honey.”
“Do I have to be hungry while I’m pissed?” I asked, his eyes studied my face again then he slowly shook his head. “Good, then can I put on lip gloss and shoes so I can go get something to eat?”
“Yeah,” he answered but didn’t let me go.
“Uh… are you gonna let me go so I can do those things?”
His eyes studied my face yet again.
I sought patience.
Then he said quietly, “Yeah.”
Then he let me go.
I retrieved the gloss, walked to the mirror, put it on and, considering that our abbreviated conversation about Luci intimated that I would imminently be shopping with her, and my few times spent with Luci indicated she was a fashionista, as she would be, of the tallest order, I added dangly, spiky earrings, a couple of thick, jingly bracelets and a long, thin-chained necklace with a jingly, spiky pendant at the end. Then I unearthed my bronze sandals, sat on the bed and strapped them on.
Sam had seen them before but… whatever.
He was a man. He didn’t care about shopping; he probably didn’t care about shoes.
Once they were on, I got up, went to my purse, hooked the strap on my shoulder and looked to him.
He was standing where I left him except now his arms were crossed on his chest, his legs were planted slightly apart and he looked like a gladiator who was in the ring, they just let in the lion, it was weak, sickly thus easily defeated and he was disappointed with the challenge.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.
He held my eyes a moment then answered, “Yeah.”
“Then let’s go.”
He held my eyes another moment.
Then he jerked up his chin, uncrossed his arms and swung one hand to the door.
Then we went.
* * * * *
I flipped my phone shut, slid it in my purse and then picked up my piece of bread, muttering, “Celeste and Thomas are good to have dinner with us tonight. Thanks for that.”
Then I took a big bite of bread, trained my eyes on the view of the lake and chewed.
Sam had no reply.
I put the bread down, picked up my fork and stabbed at my salad, saying, “Maybe, when Luci gets here, we’ll ask her and she’ll want to join us. Would that be okay with you?”
Sam again made no reply.
Since I asked him a direct question, I turned my head to him then stopped dead at what I saw.
He wasn’t eating. He was sitting back in his chair, forearms on the arms of the chair, hands dangling, eyes on me, face hard.
I’d never seen him look like that, ever. I’d seen him pissed. I’d even seen him angry.
But I’d never seen him like that.
“Sam?” I whispered.
“Yeah Kia, remember me?”
I blinked, set my fork down and straightened away from my food.
“Sorry?”
“Just to remind you, sweetheart, I’m the man who fucked you four times last night, twice today.”
Oh my God.
Did he just say that?
My eyes darted side to side at the busy tables around us then I leaned into him and hissed, “What on earth?”
“Good question,” he returned.
“What?”
“Not likin’ the wall, Kia.”
I felt my brows snap together and I repeated, “What?”
He leaned into me and it took everything I had not to rear back at the look on his face and he clipped, “Think I explained last night and I did it, incidentally, after I fucked you during which you came twice, somethin’ by your reaction at the time and after, he never gave you, Kia, my guess, not once, further evidence of what I explained last night and that is I am not that asshole.”
“I know that,” I snapped.
“You fuckin’ do not,” he shot back. “I fucked up earlier, pissed you off, maybe hurt you, I don’t know if it’s one, the other or both and I don’t know because you slammed up the wall to hold me back so I have no clue. What I do know is, you aren’t talkin’ about it to me, workin’ it out with me. I also know you’re sittin’ next to me but you’re so far away, I can’t reach you.”
“Sam, I said it was okay,” I reminded him.
“You lied.”
I sucked in breath and sat back.
Sam’s hand darted out, caught me behind the neck, pulled me back to him and I sucked in another breath, this one a whole lot different and I watched his eyes flare dangerously.
“Oh no, fuck no,” he whispered angrily. “First, do not pull away from me when we’re talkin’, especially when it’s about something important and second, again, do not fuckin’ mistake me for him. I’m not gonna hurt you, I want to talk to you.”
“Maybe you can do it without getting physical,” I suggested acidly and went on just as acidly, “Or without being a jerk.”
“Yeah? I asked earlier and you shut me down. Walked here with you, ordered, got served, started eatin’ and you shut me out. So I’m tryin’ other options to see if I can break through.”
My heart was beating wildly but right then my throat clogged with fear and this was not fear of Sam but a sudden, overpowering fear I was fucking up.
“I’m new to this, Sam,” I whispered. “To something being…” I paused to find a word then finished, “healthy.”
“Yeah? Well, let me clue you in, sweetheart. Shit happens, we talk it out. You do not shut me out.”
I stared into his glittering, no less angry eyes.
And there it was. I was fucking up.
“Buongiorno!” We heard called and I tore my eyes from Sam who dropped his hand from my neck and I watched Luci approach, she was fiddling with her purse, head down and talking. “I know I’m early but I’m also hungry and I like this restaurant. I’ll get some pasta, eat quickly and then,” she looked up, “shopping!”
Then she stopped dead and stared at us, her lips parting and her eyes darting between us.
Clearly, neither Sam nor I were doing a good job hiding the fact that she’d interrupted an intense conversation.
Then she muttered, “But, I think, I must go and…” she looked around her, “do something first. I’ll be back in –”
“No, that’s okay,” I said quickly, suddenly finding my body pushing back my chair. “Sit. Eat. I, um… we’ll…” I stopped talking, eyes glued to Luci, I surged up, panic controlling my movements, I grabbed my purse and whispered, “I suddenly don’t feel so well. I need to go back to the hotel and lie down. Enjoy shopping.”
Then I took off, dashing through the tables like the fraught heroine in a romantic comedy.
Enjoy shopping?
Ohmigod!
I was a nut. I was an idiot. I was a loser.
And I totally could not do this with Sam.
I wasn’t going to bore him away.
I was going to annoy him away.
God, he was so pissed.
And he couldn’t have sex with me without wearing a condom in case he caught something from me.
Something Cooter might have given me.
Before last night, I had one lover and still, he’d tainted me.
And if the tests didn’t come back clean…
I closed my eyes and nearly ran up the sidewalk, going as fast as my sandals would take me, my breath coming heavy and not from rushing, from holding back emotion. I didn’t know whether to cry, scream or find something to throw because I was so fucking angry.
At myself.
But especially at Cooter.
I slid through the doors to the hotel, raced up the stairs, pulling my key out of my bag as I went.
I was standing at my door, making my second attempt to slide the key in the lock when an iron arm clamped around me.
I choked back my surprised cry, twisted my neck and looked up to see Sam’s hard jaw, a muscle ticking in his cheek, the key was pulled from my hand, Sam inserted it and then we were in my room.
I tried to escape, pulling free from his arm but he caught me, twisting me on the way back so the front of my body hit his, his arm went back around me tight but his other hand slid into my hair, holding my head steady so I was right there when his face got in mine.
I expected him to blow, my body braced and I winced, preparing for it.
But when his voice came, it was soft, gentle but still velvet rough.
“Talk to me, baby.”
I stopped wincing and looked into his eyes.
Then I told him the truth.
“You don’t need this drama.”
“Kia –”
I cut him off. “Luci doesn’t either.”
And she didn’t. Neither of them did.
God.
God!
I ran away from the table like the fraught heroine in a romantic comedy.
How humiliating.
“Don’t worry about that shit; tell me what’s in your head.”
“Sam –”
“What’s in your head?”
“I can’t –”
His face got closer. “Tell me. What’s in your head? Tell me everything that’s goin’ through your head.”
“I’m unclean,” I blurted and his head jerked.
Then he asked, “What?”
“Sam,” I shook my head, “just let me go.”
“Kia –”
“Just let me go!” I shrieked, losing it, tearing out of his arms, taking four quick steps back, I yanked my bag off my shoulder and threw it on the bed.
He started toward me but I lifted up a hand as if to fend him off and he stopped.
“He hit me,” I whispered, it just came out and I watched Sam’s body go rock solid but I couldn’t stop the words flowing so they kept coming. “He backhanded me and he did it so often, I had a scale, how bad it was, I’d rate it. My head whipped to the side that was a one. He took me to the floor that was a ten. And that was the worst because if I hit the floor, more often than not, he’d kick me.”
Sam didn’t move, not an inch, not a twitch, his eyes didn’t even leave me.
“He wore steel toed boots to work.”
Sam moved then, or at least the muscle in his cheek did.
He knew what I was saying.
“I tried to leave, six times, Sam, and never, not once, did I call Mom or Dad, Kyle, Missy, Paula, Teri. Even Ozzie. What was the matter with me?”
“Kia –”
“They would have helped.”
“Kia –”
“It was like, like…” I shook my head and threw up my hands, “like I didn’t actually want to leave.”
“I need to come to you,” Sam said gently but I shook my head again.
“No.” I took another step back, compounding the denial and kept right on talking. “I… he… he’d get mad when I left and he… it was bad when he got me back, Sam. I learned. I learned not to leave. And he was mean and not just mean to me. I mean mean. I tried to figure it out, what changed in him, why he wasn’t who I dated in high school. He was always cocky but he was never mean. But, after he got kicked out of college because his grades were so bad and we got married and life wasn’t so easy, he wasn’t the glory boy anymore, he had to work at things; he got mean. And I worried he’d do shit like slash their tires or get them in trouble at work or follow them, mess with them, freak them out. My Mom had a heart valve replacement, like, seven years ago. She’s okay now but it was scary before we figured out what was wrong. She couldn’t take that. Teri and Missy are single. Paula only got married last year and Rudy would never let anything hurt her, not ever but that wasn’t… she hadn’t started with him until I… until after I gave up.”
“Baby –”
I kept talking, fast, my breath coming faster, speaking right over Sam.
“He had this guy, at work, he hated him. God, he obsessed about him. Everyone liked this guy, especially Cooter’s boss. It drove Cooter wild. Just wild. He started messing with him. Screwing around with his car. Doing crazy shit. God, he’d come home, tell me what he did, I couldn’t believe it, it was so crazy but he giggled himself sick. He loved it. Every minute of it. Then there was an accident at work and the guy got hurt. It was bad. So bad, he’s on Disability now, he hasn’t worked since. Cooter never said anything to me but he calmed down after that and I don’t think it was just because the guy wasn’t around. I think it was because he made the guy not be around. I couldn’t do that to my family. My friends.”
“No, honey, that’s understandable,” Sam said softly, moving a step toward me but I took a step back and he stopped.
“But all of them, Sam, I could have rallied all of them. I see that now. These past couple of days, it’s come to me. They were there to help. Some of them even told me they were there if I needed them and they told me this because they knew I needed them. It was hurting them, watching him tearing away parts of me. And, now, looking back, I know he couldn’t have taken them all on. Especially if I talked to Ozzie. Ozzie knew. Ozzie has seen a lot in his life, his job. I knew he knew what was happening to me. I should have talked to Ozzie. He would have helped me.”
“You weren’t thinkin’ then, you were scared and protecting them and yourself.”
I shook my head. Closed my eyes then opened them and looked at him.
“He was my only lover and he made me unclean.”
“Kia, we don’t know –”
“You fuck me, you fuck him and I can’t have that for you. I can’t do that to you. So I can’t have you.”
His face changed, like an understanding, it washed over his features leaving a beautiful warmth in its wake but it didn’t penetrate even when he whispered, “Baby, that’s crazy.”
“He contaminated me and he can’t contaminate you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“We know.”
His head cocked to the side. “You know?”
“I don’t know how many women he’s been with. It could be dozens. But it doesn’t matter.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.” He melted as the tears filled my eyes because it hit me and when it hit me it crushed me. “He’s already contaminated me.”
The weight of this knowledge was so heavy, my legs gave out but I didn’t hit the floor. Sam caught me in his arms, I was up then we were both down on the bed, Sam cradling me and I burrowed closer, sobbing into his chest.
“That’s right, honey, get that shit out,” Sam murmured into the top of my hair and my body bucked with another sob.
He cradled me closer and held me for a long time because I cried for a long time. Then finally, the tears came slower and I lay in his arms, held close, tight and sniffling.
“Took it too fast, movin’ on you, takin’ you to bed. Fucked up, mentioning that shit to you,” he muttered like he was talking to himself, his hand moving soothingly on my back.
I lifted my hand, dragged my fingers across my cheek, stared at his shirt and mumbled, “You should really go.”
His hand stopped moving and both arms closed around me as he asked, “What?”
“You should go.”
“Where?”
“Away from me.”
“Kia –”
I sucked in breath, lifted my head and looked at him. “I’m… you were right. He broke me and you need –”
“I know what I need, baby, you don’t. Don’t tell me what I need. Only I know.”
“Well I know it isn’t me.”
He held my eyes. Then he grinned.
Then he said gently, “Last night, I was pissed and losin’ it. That woman, rude. Takin’ our time then up in my space. She kept talkin’, I woulda said something that woulda made her kid not like me so fuckin’ much. You moved right in, sorted it out, got them what they wanted and us on our way. Been in that position too many times, Kia. Not one woman standing by my side has felt my patience go and stepped in for me. Not one woman… except you.”
I stared at him, stunned at this news. I mean, his hand got so tight in mine, how could his other women not know and, well, do something?
“Really?” I asked.
“Really,” he answered then went on quietly. “You wore those shoes you’re wearin’ now the first time I saw you.”
I felt my lips part.
He remembered.
Holy cow. He remembered my shoes.
Sam’s eyes went to my mouth and he muttered, “She gets it.”
“Sam –” I started but he immediately talked over me.
“Silver shoes the second time I saw you, blue dress.”
I closed my eyes.
I knew what he was saying.
He remembered everything about me.
“Gold when you went out with me.”
I opened my eyes and felt tears filling them again as he kept right on going.
“Your Lake Como bud, Kia, baby, she didn’t tell you about her kid because you remind her of her daughter. She told you about her kid because you remind her of her daughter and you are all she hoped her daughter would grow up to be. Beautiful, funny, friendly, classy. I know why Luci liked you at first, you looked good, pure class but effortless, not a wannabe; you looked like what she thinks would fit me. I don’t know what you did to take it beyond that but whatever it was, you did it. By the time I got to you with the champagne, you had Luci. Not one woman I’ve ever been with that she’s met has had her approval at all so definitely not that soon.”
“But –”
His arms gave me a tight squeeze and he shook his head.
“You did that, Kia, you. You talk about your family and your friends and they’re loyal to you, it’s obvious they love you and you inspire that. That fuckin’ asshole didn’t contaminate you. He was contaminated and I’ll bet he wanted to contaminate you but I know he worked hard at doin’ it. He looked at you, saw how gorgeous you are, how people care about you and he knew, you woke up, you’d see he was the piece of shit he was. So he had to drag you down so you’d never see him for what he was, leave him behind and find what you deserve.”
“But… you and me, when we’re, uh… intimate –”
His arms gave me another squeeze, pulling me up his chest so we were face to face and turning me deeper into him, tangling his long legs with mine.
Then he asked quietly, “All that you just gave me, you haven’t told any of your crew that shit, have you?”
I shook my head.
“Buried it.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
“Buried everything, didn’t deal, just thought you could move on.”
There it was yet again. He figured me out.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
One of his hands came up, his fingers gliding around my ear, tucking my hair behind it as he said, “Honey, shit like that, you can’t bury. You’ve gotta deal with it and part of what you gotta deal with is,” his arm went back around me and both closed tight, “that he stepped out on you and you gotta be strong enough to face another possible consequence of him bein’ a piece of shit. It’ll probably be nothing but you gotta face it, find out then put that behind you just like you need to face all this shit before you put it behind you. You can’t bury it, you gotta look right at it, see it for the shit it is, understand that completely and then put it behind you.”
I stared into his beautiful face knowing he was right. Knowing, as all this stuff came up and I couldn’t hold it back, that I had to deal with it. I wanted to bury it but that wasn’t working. So I had to face it.
And that sucked.
And I stared at his beautiful face and it came to me for the first time since we lay in bed at Luci’s house talking that this was Sampson Cooper.
And he could easily find a woman who was not a total mess, crying in his arms, running through sidewalk eateries like the fraught heroine of a romantic comedy, needing to get an AIDS test because her dead husband was a piece of shit.
And that was why I whispered, “You really should go.”
I watched his eyes flash before he muttered softly but impatiently, “For fuck’s sake, Kia.”
“Sam, you’re Sampson Cooper, you can find a woman who’s not a pain in the ass, easy.”
“Yeah?” he shot back. “Has it occurred to you that I’m thirty-five and I haven’t?”
Actually, no. It hadn’t occurred to me.
Sam kept talking.
“I got the bitches who are very, very aware I’m Sampson Cooper. Last night, you told me you like Sam Cooper better. Last night, I fucked you, I ate you and you sucked my cock. Not them. They do not see Sam Cooper because they don’t want Sam Cooper. They do not suck my cock; they suck Sampson Cooper’s cock and tell all their friends about it.”
Oh God. That stunk but I bet it was true.
He kept going.
“Then I got the bitches who look good, dress nice and think their shit don’t stink. They are not high maintenance. They are not divas. They define both. They get up and go to bed convinced the world revolves around them, even me. They knock themselves out to do one thing, lead me around by my dick like they have every other guy who’s taken a dip in their pussy then they get pissed and seriously fuckin’ bitchy when they can’t do that.”
That stunk too but I bet it was also true.
Sam continued his litany of his experience with the not so fairer sex.
“Then I got the bitches who play cat and mouse, twistin’ themselves in knots to convince me I’m the cat when I’m always the fuckin’ mouse. I’m not a mouse, Kia, no fuckin’ way. That shit doesn’t fly with me.”
Hmm. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
I didn’t get the chance to decide, he went on.
“Then I got the bitches who are so desperate to keep their claws in me, the whole relationship is a sham. They hide everything and show me nothin’ but what they think I want to see. Some of ‘em are good, even I can’t see through them. Luci can, but I can’t. Then they fuck up, they always fuck up, no one can keep that shit up without eventually fuckin’ up and I see through them and every fuckin’ second they spent with me is a lie because they haven’t given themselves to me.” His hand tangled in my hair. “Not you. Right off the bat, you’re shy, hesitant, you lay it out about your husband and you’re honest that you know who I am. Then you tell me you internet stalked me, your girl’s got a cutout of me and you got a yappy dog. With you, for the first time in a long fuckin’ time, maybe even all the way back to high school, I’m the cat. You are not gettin’ this so I’ll lay it out, I like the challenge and I like it because, even when you withhold from me, I like what I see but when I break through, I see what I’ll get when I finally get all of you. But even with this dance we got goin’, baby, you are not lying, you are not pretending, you’re just you and I’ve had a number of pains in the asses, I know when I find one who’s gonna be worth it.”
“Uh… Sam,” I started then pointed out, “when the cat catches the mouse it usually kills it and eats it.”
He grinned at me, it was different than the sweet, understanding grins he’d been giving me, lots different, so different I felt my nipples tingle just looking at it and his hand drifted through my hair as he pointed out in return, “Yeah, and you like it when I catch my mouse and eat it.”
This was definitely true.
My body melted into his and my eyes dropped to his mouth, his hand in my hair brought my face closer then my eyes shot back to his, my body tensed, my hand pressed into his chest and he stopped.
“I ran through a restaurant like the fraught heroine in a romantic comedy,” I reminded him on a whisper. “That’s crazy. That’s drama. That’s –”
“Real,” he cut me off. “Shit was overwhelming you, you had a reaction and you’re allowed, Kia. You didn’t hide that either.” He moved, rolling me and pulling us down in the bed so my head was to the pillows, his arms were still around me, his torso was resting on mine and his face was super close. “What you didn’t do was, when I fucked up, hurt your feelings, you didn’t call me on it. I keep tellin’ you I’m not him and I’ll keep doin’ it until you work him outta you, baby, but, in a healthy relationship, people fight and in a healthy relationship, a fight does not end with you on the floor takin’ a kick. That shit will never happen with me. In a healthy relationship, you’re allowed to get pissed and in my face. Fuck, I need you to do that so I know what buttons not to push, where I can’t go and avoid those places. And I’ll do the same for you. It’s part of learning how to take care of each other. It’s fighting but it’s a form of communication and it’s also a form of trust. We have words, we come to terms, we learn about each other and we move on stronger.”
This made sense, but…
“Sam, I’m getting that there’s a lot I need to deal with and –”
“I’m here.”
Those two words said so quickly, firmly, they settled in my soul, deep and they felt good there, very good.
But…
“You… I, you…” I hesitated then finished, “You should know that there’s a lot of it and I haven’t dealt with any of it. When Ozzie told me Cooter was dead, he told me it would hit me but he didn’t mean the way it’s turning out it’s hitting me. This, what just happened now, was the first time I cried since Cooter died and not because he’s dead but because I need to mourn the time he took from me. With all the stuff that’s coming up, I don’t think I’m done. I have to talk to my folks, my friends and deal.”
“Who’s Ozzie?” Sam asked.
“The Sheriff. I’ve known him since I was a little girl.”
“Right,” Sam mumbled but said no more.
“Sam?” I called and his arms gave me a squeeze to say he was listening to me. “What I just said, you… maybe you and me… maybe this isn’t the right time and –”
He started chuckling.
And I was so surprised at this reaction, I stopped talking.
Then he said through his chuckles. “Baby, I’m here. Honest to God, even you can’t twist in your head the last two nights we’ve had and the day we shared yesterday and think that it isn’t worth goin’ through some bad shit with you to get to those kinds of good times.”
Oh God. That settled in my soul too and it felt even better.
Sam continued, “We got the rest of Italy and we got Crete. When we’re in Crete, we’ll talk about what we’ll do after Crete.”
“After Crete?”
“Kia, you live in Indiana, I live in North Carolina and this is not a vacation fling.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
This was not a vacation fling. I hadn’t really thought it out beyond the present but it was safe to say the fact that Sam had felt good.
No.
Freaking great.
Sam kept speaking.
“But right now, we got that and what you gotta get is you’re safe to be real with me. Shit comes up, I’m here to help you sort it and, baby, I like where I am a fuckuva lot because you are real, that’s the whole reason I like where I am,” he grinned again, “outside the fact you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you got great fuckin’ legs, you look good in clothes and a fuckuva lot better out of them.” His grin faded, his eyes changed, they warmed in a way they warmed me and he finished, “So don’t worry about that. If it happens, roll with it, I’m here and I’ll roll with it with you.”
I stared into his warm eyes, they didn’t move, they held mine, firm and steady and the warmth didn’t cool.
He was going to roll with it with me. Like my Dad taking my hand in the haunted house, while everything around me was scary, Sam was offering to take my hand, make me safe and lead me through.
Wherever you are, however you got there, if it’s good, you’re meant to be there either because you earned it or life led you there and you were smart enough to hold on.
I needed, right then, to be smart enough to hold on.
I pulled in a deep breath.
Then I whispered, “Okay.”
He held my eyes, looking deep, assessing, I knew, where I was at.
Then he decided he liked what he saw and he whispered back, “Okay.”
“We left our food and Luci –” I started but didn’t finish.
Sam bent his head, touched his mouth to mine then in a fluid motion, he rolled us and I found myself on my feet and in his arms by the side of the bed.
I tipped my head back to look at him to see he was already looking down at me.
“You go fix your face,” he ordered and my hand flew to my face but he shook his head and his lips twitched. “Yeah, you’ll think it’s a mess when it’s not but I’m gettin’ from you you give a shit about the way you look so you’ll wanna fix it. I’ll call Luci and tell her you had a thing, it’s sorted and we’ll be back in fifteen. That work for you?”
I nodded.
Sam dropped his head and touched his mouth to mine again.
When he lifted his head an inch, he asked quietly, “Are we sorted?”
I nodded again but added a verbal, “I think so… for now.”
He bent his neck to touch his forehead to mine a second while murmuring, “Good.” Then he let me go, turned me, and with a his hand low at my back giving me a little push toward the bathroom, he muttered, “Face.”
I kept moving toward the bathroom but looked back to see Sam had his hand in his back pocket pulling out his phone, his long legs taking him to the windows.
My legs took me to the bathroom.
Then I looked in the mirror and swallowed a scream.
Eyes red and puffy, mascara everywhere. It was such a mess I had to start from scratch. And Sam had seen me like this and told me it wasn’t a mess.
He was wrong.
But I had fifteen minutes to sort it and get back to Luci which meant I really only had ten.
So I didn’t have time to think about how Sam could think me post-crying jag was not a mess or even how he could see me that way and not even so much as wince.
I had to fix it and get to the restaurant. Luci was alone and probably worried.
And, post-drama (again), I remembered I was still hungry.