Chapter Five
Smart Enough to Hold On
I woke feeling warm, content, comfy and something else, something that felt strange, something I knew didn’t feel strange once upon a time in my life.
It was a feeling I registered and understood when I was six years old.
It was the feeling I used to have all the time, every second of every minute of my life but I understood it when my Dad took my brother Kyle and me to that haunted house.
I’d been terrified, completely, even though, looking back, it was meant for little kids like me so it was seriously tame. But I’d never experienced anything like it until then.
And as I wandered through that haunted house with Dad and Kyle, monsters popping out, the bloody bride and groom gruesomely murdered on their blessed day, I got more and more scared when, suddenly, my father took my hand and that feeling of fear evaporated completely.
Dad was with me. Dad was close.
I was safe.
Dad wouldn’t allow anything to harm me. Not monsters. Not zombie brides.
Nothing.
And I felt that upon waking, I felt it again for the first time in ages.
I opened my eyes and saw the corded, dark-skinned column of a man’s throat and I felt my legs tangled with long, heavy ones, my arm resting around a man’s waist, my other hand pressed to a hard chest and two strong arms around me, holding me close to a solid, steady heat.
I tipped my head back and saw Sam’s head tipped slightly forward, his eyes closed, his handsome face relaxed, his power at rest and I stared, immobile, such was his beauty. His eyelashes were black, short and spiky but they were thick, so many of them, their fan seemed a unit, not individual lashes and, instantly, I was transfixed.
Then, as they had a tendency to do, memories washed through my head taking my mind away from feeling warm, comfy, safe and fascinated by Sam’s eyelashes and forcing it to last night.
I tipped my head down and, I didn’t know why but automatically my body sought more contact with his by pressing forward.
When it did, Sam’s arms convulsed, going tight and staying that way a moment before they partially released. My head tipped back again, thinking I woke him but he was still asleep.
He was still asleep.
This meant Sampson Cooper hugged in his sleep.
Oh man.
I sighed.
Then I closed my eyes tight and sifted through my memories of last night.
* * * * *
After I giggled myself silly at Luci’s cars while Sam watched and smiled, he took me back to the party. Thus commenced me meeting a variety of Luci’s friends and acquaintances, very few who Sam knew, almost all of whom knew Sam. I did this while drinking and, several times, Sam led us to the dining room where Luciana had indeed put out a spread.
Even though the food looked gorgeous, luckily Celeste had primed me for this so I nibbled and enjoyed rather than gorged myself which was probably what I would have done not having lunch or dinner.
Before my fifth glass of champagne, I realized a number of things.
One, I was having fun.
Two, Sam did not leave my side.
Three, he did this not in an overbearing way but in a way that simply said he liked being there.
Four, I liked this, like, a lot.
Five, Sam was funny in a dry, blunt, observational way.
Six, because of this, I laughed a lot.
Seven, Sam thought I was funny and I knew this because he also laughed a lot.
Eight, I liked it when Sam laughed mostly because it sounded good, he looked beautiful doing it but also because he was making a habit of touching me when he did, either sweeping an arm around my waist and pulling me tight to his side or sweeping an arm around my waist, his other arm joining it, pulling me tight to his front and holding me close.
Nine, Luci liked it that Sam and I were laughing and touching a lot and I knew this because, either when she was with us or she was across the room, any time I noticed her, she was smiling at us like a happy sister who, after years of putting up with her brother’s girlfriends who she loathed, she’d finally met her soul mate who she could shop with, gossip with and instigate regular margarita nights and get drunk with.
And ten, Luci’s friends and acquaintances were awesome. I knew this because they were obviously rich, obviously well-traveled, obviously well-educated but they were also nice, welcoming, entertaining and easy to talk to. I also knew this because I caught her friends openly and often glancing her way with concern on their faces. She wasn’t hiding anything from them either and they were worried. I liked this too even though I didn’t like the reason they were feeling it.
But after glass of champagne number five, Sam handed me glass of champagne number six which, with the bottle I shared with Celeste, was actually glass of champagne number nine.
And, I learned last night, that was one glass too many.
This I learned when, three sips into glass number nine, Sam led me out to the balcony. There were others out there but by that time it was dark, the lake was set in moonlight and for those who wanted privacy (like, clearly, Sam) Luci had not turned on the outside lights and thus it seemed romantically secluded.
Sam settled us at the stone balustrade, me facing front, Sam fitting his body into mine at the back, his arm stealing around my ribs, the other one around my chest and I felt his jaw come to rest at the side of my head.
Like his voice, like his laughter and like the now gazillion times he’d demonstrated his gentlemanly behavior (for instance, I did not have to ask for a glass of champagne, Sam always procured them for me, I did not have to walk unguided or unprotected, Sam always was close with a hand at the small of my back or arm curled around my waist and I did not have to introduce myself to anyone and start conversation, Sam did it for me and was certain to lead any discourse so I never, not once, felt left out or ill-at-ease), the position he held me in settled in my soul, deep and warm.
And when he settled us, he didn’t speak, he just held me and we both took in the view.
I found myself sighing.
And I sighed right before I panicked.
Because in that moment it came to me with drunken clarity that I wanted this, all of it. This life that led me to wearing beautiful gowns, meeting interesting, friendly people, giggling over silly but unbelievably expensive cars, eating delicious food while drinking dry, crisp champagne and, most especially, standing outside in the moonlight on the terrace of a beautiful home on an even more beautiful lake with a man who would hold me like Sam was holding me after treating me like Sam had been treating me.
In fact, the bottom line truth of it was, I really liked all the other stuff but it was Sam holding me like he was holding me and treating me like he was treating me, if it was in a fantastic villa in Italy or if it was getting bitten by mosquitoes and not caring even a little bit on a deck in Indiana, that was what I really wanted.
I wanted it then. I wanted it the next day. I wanted it forever.
And I couldn’t have it.
This was Sam’s world, not mine.
But he couldn’t possibly know that, not with me staying at our swanky hotel and wearing fabulous footwear every time I saw him.
And, right then, into my sixth sip of glass of champagne number nine, I completely forgot all of Celeste’s worldly advice and drunkenly decided he had to know who he held in his arms.
Full disclosure.
For the sake of my sanity because, if he found out later I was not a jet-set, high heels wearing socialite but instead a… well, not jet-set, flip-flop wearing non-socialite, I knew he’d be angry. He’d think I’d duped him.
So he had to find out now so, if he so chose, which I drunkenly decided he would, he could move on and so could I (maybe).
“My friend Teri has a life-size, cardboard cutout of you.”
Yes. That was me. That was what I said into the moonlight, breaking the comfortable, cozy, romantic silence Sam had guided us to.
His arms gave me a slight squeeze and he muttered, “What?”
“My friend, Teri, has a life-size, cardboard cutout of you,” I repeated.
No arm squeeze and also no reply.
“In her bedroom,” I went on.
Again, no response whatsoever.
“You’re in your Colts gear.”
Nothing.
Hmm. I wasn’t sure if this was working or not.
I took a sip of champagne.
Sam remained silent.
I drunkenly blathered on.
“At an average of thirty-five percent, we’ve calculated it, the men she takes in that room can’t go the distance.”
More nothing.
“As in, they can’t bring it home,” I clarified, just in case he was not instantly revolted by these words and setting me aside never to touch me again because he didn’t get.
Still nothing.
I kept sharing.
“In other words, they can’t bring it home for her, obviously, but also for them.”
Nothing.
“We think it’s you or, um… the cardboard cutout of you in your Colts gear. We think they find it intimidating. Still, although this is disappointing for Teri and, as I mentioned, an alarmingly frequent occurrence, she hasn’t moved it.”
That was when I got something.
Sam’s body started shaking so violently, my body started shaking with it. Then his jaw left my hair because he shoved his face in my neck and roared, yes, roared with laughter as his arms went super tight.
It felt nice.
Well, that didn’t work.
Onward!
I sipped through my mind drunkenly attempting to latch onto a new strategy, it found one and I sallied forth.
“I don’t have a college degree,” I informed him when his laughter died.
His face went out of my neck and his jaw went back to my hair and he muttered, “You don’t?”
“Nope.”
His jaw left my hair so his lips could go to my ear where he murmured, “Hmm.”
That felt nice too.
Like, really nice.
Argh!
Onward!
“You graduated from UCLA,” I told him though he had to know this fact unless he had patches of amnesia and forgot bits of his life which was highly unlikely because, since I borderline internet stalked him, I would know about it if he had.
His mouth went from my ear and he agreed over my head with a, “Yep.”
“You grew up there,” I kept telling him about his life. “In LA, that is.”
“Yep,” he agreed again but his voice was vibrating like he was laughing but yet not.
Undeterred, I carried on.
“You grew up in a not very good neighborhood so within weeks of you signing your contract with the Colts, you bought your Mom a house in Malibu.”
Sam went back to silence.
I didn’t.
“On the beach,” I continued.
Sam said nothing.
I kept going.
“Because of the lessons you learned from your Mom, you told Sports Illustrated you wouldn’t accept any endorsement contracts for products you didn’t actually use and feel good about endorsing.”
“This is true,” he muttered, completely unperturbed at the extent of knowledge I held about him.
I sighed.
Then I sipped more champagne.
Then another tactic came to me so I announced, “I have a dog.”
“You do?” Sam asked.
“Yep, her name is Memphis.”
Sam said nothing but he moved away from my back though only so he could pull me gently from the balustrade while turning me. When he did, he took the glass of champagne from my hand and set it on the balustrade then he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the terrace.
I kept talking. “She’s a King Charles spaniel.”
Sam led me through some doors and I looked up at him, intent on my course so only vaguely noting he tipped his chin up toward someone and when my eyes went in that direction, I saw Luci grinning madly at us. I gave her a wave so as not to be rude because her eyes had moved to me but I did this still talking as Sam guided me along the outskirts of the partygoers.
“A King Charles spaniel, just in case you don’t know, is a small dog. She’s soft all over, brown and white; she has fluffy, floppy ears and big, sweet, dark brown eyes. But she’s also yappy. She talks a lot, she has a lot to say and, unless you’re her Momma, you wouldn’t get it, it would just seem like yaps to you. She’s also overly friendly. Many people find that annoying.”
This last was a lie. Everyone loved Memphis.
Sam guided me to some stairs and up them. What he didn’t do was speak.
I decided to get direct to the point.
“How do you feel about small, overly friendly, yappy dogs?”
At my direct question, because he was a gentleman, Sam answered it.
“I prefer big, not overly friendly, not yappy dogs who can sense danger and bark loud.”
“I don’t think Memphis can sense danger,” I told him. “I think Memphis likes everyone, including criminals. Though I can’t say that with any certainty since I don’t think she’s met any but if I had to guess, my guess would be, she’d like them.”
“That’s too bad,” Sam muttered as if it was all the same to him and he guided me into a room, closing the door behind us.
Then he moved me through the dark room as I abandoned Memphis and found another topic.
“I live in a small town,” I told him as the room lit dimly when Sam turned on the lamp beside a bed.
“Yeah, baby, you told me,” he said quietly.
I noted he was shrugging off his suit jacket then I noted him tossing it to the end of the bed. Then I noted his shirt looked even better without his jacket on. Then he sat on the bed and instantly pulled me in his lap then just as instantly fell back, taking me with him and twisting so we were lying side by side, facing each other.
I was drunkenly determined to follow the path I was on thus found nothing amiss in our current situation. I simply settled my head into the pillows and found his eyes.
“Outside my wedding gown, which was gorgeous, by the way, though not as gorgeous as this dress and seriously Cooter was not worth how gorgeous my wedding gown was but, obviously, now you know that, so outside of my wedding gown, this is the first gown I’ve ever worn in my life. I didn’t even go to my proms because Cooter thought they were stupid and I was seeing him all the way back then.”
I noticed Sam’s brows had drawn together slightly but, surprisingly, not at the stunning news I didn’t traipse through life in fabulous gowns, instead he asked, “Your husband’s name was Cooter?”
Excellent!
I should have started with that!
Cooter having the hick name to beat all hick names said it all about me.
“Yep,” I answered.
“Was that his real name?”
“No, his real name was Jeff but no one called him that.”
“Ever?”
I nodded, my hair sliding on the pillow, “Ever.”
“Not even when he became an adult?”
I shook my head.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“Yep, he was a hick. He was, like, the definition of a hick.”
Sam just held my eyes.
“He was a fan of yours too, considering you were good at what you did and you played for the Colts, which was his team. That was, he was a fan of yours until you quit and went into the Army. He thought that was crazy. He couldn’t believe you gave up the chance of earning that kind of money to join the Army,” I shared.
“Kia, honey, I think it’s clear the guy was a dick,” Sam replied softly.
“This is true,” I muttered.
Suddenly, Sam took control of the conversation by asking, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” I answered.
“Jesus,” he muttered again.
“What?”
“You look it but your eyes say you’re older.”
I latched onto that. “Am I too young for you?”
He grinned but didn’t reply.
I felt his grin slide along my skin in a sweet way but powered through it and suggested instead, “Too old?”
He started chuckling and again didn’t answer.
I sighed.
Sam’s arms, which I belatedly noticed were wrapped around me, gathered me closer.
“So, this is the first time you’ve worn a dress like that?” he asked quietly.
“Yep,” I answered, nodding my head on the pillow again at the same time tilting it back because it was now closer to his.
“You wear it like you were born to it.”
Wow. That was nice.
“Wow. That’s nice.”
Yes. I thought it then I freaking said it.
Idiot!
He grinned.
Then he asked, “You think, you wear it like you were born to it, maybe you were born to it?”
I blinked. Then I considered this.
Then I answered, “No.”
“No?”
I shook my head.
“Why not?” Sam asked.
“Well, because that’s crazy. I live in the small town I lived in my whole life. I married a hick who cheated on me and beat me. He didn’t have a college degree and worked for a sheet metal factory and not well, if his performance evaluations and the nasty moods he’d get into after he got them were anything to go by. I also don’t have a college degree and, until recently, when I came into some money, I worked as an administrative assistant for five accountants and my job was b-o-r-i-n-g, boring in a way it was a wonder I didn’t lapse into a coma daily by three o’clock. I mean, they were nice guys but seriously, accountants and the work they did…” I trailed off and faked a yawn.
Sam grinned again.
I kept babbling.
“I got my first passport delivered two months ago. I had my first manicure, pedicure, facial and massage two days ago. I think, with all that, it’s safe to say I was definitely not born to wear a gown like this.”
“I was born in the barrio,” Sam returned immediately. “My father came and went as he pleased, he was gone more than he was there but when he was there, he was more of a dick than your dead husband. He took my mother’s money, ate her food, drank himself sick, cheated on her openly, beat the shit outta her and slapped my brother and me around. He didn’t work, not once that I knew but she did. She worked hard, she kept us fed, she kept us clothed but that was all we had and, it sucks, but you feel that as a kid no matter how hard she worked so we wouldn’t. But, even with all that shit, since we were kids and maybe before when we couldn’t even understand what she was sayin’, she told his we were bigger than the shithole that surrounded us. We were better. We were meant to live large. And she believed we’d do it; find some way outta that fuckin’ place. And by the time we got old enough to make decisions, she’d been fillin’ our heads with that so long, it sunk in. We believed her and we both worked our asses off to get out. I had added luck; God saw fit to grant me a talent that would lead my way. But Ma told me over and over, the talent He gave me was fleeting and fragile and I should not rely on it so I didn’t. I studied. I didn’t drift through college, I earned my degree. My brother wasn’t born with something like that so he found his way out and joined the Army about two days after he graduated high school. He stayed in it, they gave him the means; he got himself his degree and got on the officer track. He was going to be career Army, that was his goal, even his dream. But whatever his dream, like Ma said we would both do, we made it so we got the fuck out right after high school and never looked back.”
Touched by this as well as awed, I whispered, “That’s very cool.”
“Yeah,” he said through a smile, “but you don’t get me, honey. I’m here beside you wearin’ this fuckin’ suit and I wasn’t born to be here either. But I’m here, same as you. And 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.”
Nine glasses of champagne or not, I found this concept profound.
Therefore, I shared that with Sam.
“That’s very profound.”
His body shook mine and the bed when he chuckled then replied, “It isn’t profound, Kia, it’s the God’s honest truth. You’re tellin’ me the woman I met at breakfast, saw last night and I’m holdin’ in my arms right now is a fraud. But I’m tellin’ you you’re wrong. She isn’t. She’s you.”
That was profound too.
I studied him then shared, “I think I need to ponder this.”
His arms gathered me closer as he chuckled again and muttered, “Yeah, you do that.”
“I will,” I agreed, tipping my head back further to look at him.
“Good,” he murmured, tipping his chin down further to look at me.
Then, suddenly, I didn’t know why and drunkenly didn’t care, I whispered, “I think I love your Mom and I don’t even know her.”
“She’s the kind of woman you love, even if you don’t know her,” Sam replied.
“She sounds like it.”
“What’s your Ma like?”
I pulled in breath and let it out softly then said, “Like a Mom. She cooks comfort food. She goes overboard with Christmas decorations. She knocks herself out for you every birthday because, for her, that was a day that changed her life in a way she liked a whole lot and she wants you to know it. We did the whole stereotype thing. Kyle, my older brother, was Mom’s little man and still is, even though now he’s big. I was Daddy’s little girl. So Mom was the one who was tough on me and Kyle got away with everything with her. And Dad was the one who was tough on Kyle and I could get anything I wanted if I ran to Dad. But, when I say tough, I mean in the sense that parents are supposed to be tough. They were good parents, then and now. I love them both and they both love me.”
“And how’d they feel about your husband?”
“They hated him,” I answered instantly.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“They tried,” I whispered back quickly, not wanting him to think they didn’t. “That was what I was thinking about last night when you saw me. I was thinking how I should have noticed they were trying and let them help me.”
Sam’s face warmed, his eyes grew understanding and his arms gathered me closer.
Then he said gently, “We’re not goin’ there, baby, not now. Now is for us. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Okay,” I agreed readily because I didn’t want to go there, not now, not in Sam’s arms, not after drunkenly remembering to warn him about me and then drunkenly forgetting I was supposed to be doing that and, instead, loving living this moment with him, so much, there was no way I was letting it go.
“Okay,” he whispered.
And that was when I pressed closer rather than Sam gathering me closer and I lived that moment with him, talking about my brother, my Mom, my Dad, Paula, Teri and Missy and listening to him talk about his Mom, his brother Ben, Luci and his friend and brother-in-arms Travis “Gordo” Gordon.
And apparently falling asleep living that moment with him because, hours later, still wearing my gown, I woke up in much the same position, in his arms, pressed close and feeling something I hadn’t felt in years. Something precious I lost and, even precious, I didn’t notice it was missing but something I recognized as precious instantly when I got it back.
Safe.
* * * * *
And this brought me to now, awake, in my gown, the sun shining into the bedroom where Sam and I slept together.
And I had done everything Celeste had told me not to do (except gorging myself on food). I had drank too much and shared too much.
Shit.
I pulled in a silent, steadying breath and, eyes glued to Sam’s gorgeous, sleeping face, carefully I disentangled myself from his body, slid away, rolled and found my feet at the side of the bed.
Twisting the instant I did because I heard him move, I looked to see he simply settled more onto his front and one of his hands had gone up and disappeared under my pillow.
I let out my breath.
Then I scanned the room that also had a tiled floor and a scattering of plush, attractive, lush, comfortable-looking furniture but, obviously, in the bedroom it absolutely invited you to take a nap.
Amongst other things.
Hmm.
I tiptoed to an armchair so my thin heels wouldn’t sound on the tile and sat on it. Then I bent forward and unstrapped my shoes, not believing I’d slept in them, much less my fabulous gown, and trying to remember when I drifted off to sleep hoping that I didn’t do it when Sam was talking as that would be rude at the same time hoping I didn’t do it when I was talking because that would be embarrassing and realizing, either way, I was screwed.
I set the shoes aside and did another scan of the room, seeing it had a huge, polished wardrobe and two doors. One was the one we used to enter the room. The other, I hoped was a bathroom.
Careful to be quiet, I made my way to the door, opened it and discovered I was right. Then I slipped into it, closed the door, turned on the light, did my business and then, while washing my hands, I froze when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
Not because I was wearing last night’s makeup, which, thankfully, didn’t look smudged and scary.
But because my hair was down and falling around my shoulders in messy, curly waves and I remembered something about last night that I forgot.
I remembered getting into telling Sam the story of Kyle and his buddies taking me and Paula (who had been my friend since high school) to our first kegger whereupon me and Paula got totally hammered and when they brought us home, both Paula and I hurled in Mom and Dad’s backyard, causing Kyle and his buddies to tell us repeatedly, loudly and without any hope of success to be quiet which resulted in Mom and Dad catching us. I was giggling at this, Sam was smiling at it and throughout telling him the story, his fingers were working in my hair, pulling out the pins.
It felt nice then and, staring at myself in the mirror, it felt nice remembering it.
But it was more.
After I finished that story by sharing with Sam that Mom and Dad had forced Kyle and his buddies to apologize in person to Paula’s parents and then mow their yard free for the summer as penance, Sam shared with me the story of the first time his brother called him when he was hammered to ask Sam to come pick him up. Sam did but Ben hadn’t shared that it was not only Ben who was hammered, his girlfriend and her three friends were with him and also needed rides home. They were not hammered but completely shitfaced and Sam unwisely loaded them all into his car whereupon three of the four females and Ben hurled in his car and he had to sell it because he could never get rid of the smell.
And while he was telling me this and I was giggling, he was running his fingers through my hair.
That felt nicer and, staring at myself in the mirror, it settled in my soul how much nicer it felt not only last night but right then, remembering it.
Okay. I was either seriously in trouble or…
I was seriously not.
I stared into my eyes in the mirror and as I did I found my lips whispering, “Fearless.”
Then I pulled in a breath, turned from the mirror, switched off the light and exited the bathroom, moving to the double, arched, windowed doors with their gossamer curtains, my eyes on a still sleeping, still beautiful Sam.
I got to the doors and opened them, stepping out on the small, stone balcony, the curtain falling behind me and I drank in the view.
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.
Sam’s words came back to me and no longer drunk on champagne or the beauty of being held in his arms, I realized that Sampson Cooper was a great many things, nearly all of them good but one of them was wise.
On this thought, two arms closed around me from behind and I was pulled into a long, hard body as a stubbled chin swept my hair from the side of my neck right before lips whispered there, “Mornin’, baby.”
Those two words slid over my skin, coating it, again giving me a glorious moment of feeling invincible.
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 closed my eyes.
Then I whispered back, “Morning.”
Sam’s arms turned me to facing him, I opened my eyes then his body pressed mine into the balustrade as I tipped my head back to look at him and see his eyes were already moving over me.
Then they came to mine and he whispered, “Right now, honey, I’m gonna kiss you.”
My stomach clutched.
Oh God.
Okay. Oh God. All right.
I was supposed to be fearless but right then, I… was… not.
“Sam –” I started but his head dropped until his lips were light on mine and I shut up.
“No,” he said quietly, his lips moving against my lips, my heart stopped beating and his voice dropped super low, super rough, it was rich velvet when he went on. “No, baby, you fell asleep before I could taste this mouth. I’m not gonna miss another chance.”
Then he slanted his head and kissed me.
I instantly freaked out.
This was not because Sampson Cooper, my fantasy man obsession was kissing me. Sam had become way more than just that, he wasn’t even close to that anymore.
This was because, except for a couple of guys in high school and some other guys who didn’t count during spin the bottle at parties in junior high, I had kissed no one but Cooter. I grew not to like the way he kissed then I grew not to want him to kiss me and I learned quickly that if I didn’t kiss him back in a way he’d like, he’d give up trying.
So I didn’t know if I even knew how to kiss. I’d forgotten or never really learned.
And I needed at that moment in my life not only to be able to do it but to be able to do it really, really well.
And needing it and freaking out about it, my head filled with garbage and I blew it.
I knew it by feeling it and I knew it when Sam’s mouth broke from mine, his head came up, I opened my eyes and saw his, for the first time since I met him, were guarded.
Oh God.
Oh God!
Sam had just kissed me, it was awful and it was also all my fault.
God!
I was mortified. Total humiliation. So bad, I couldn’t bear it.
So I didn’t.
I had to escape.
So I did.
I ducked my head, jerked sideways out of his arms and skirted him, heading toward the bedroom, all the while mumbling, “I need to find Luci and ask if I can use –”
I didn’t get to the bedroom and I didn’t finish mumbling.
I found my hand caught in Sam’s firm grip and my arm tugged, hard enough to change the direction I was going, not hard enough to hurt. I flew backward and as my body moved, Sam twisted my arm so my body twisted with it and my arm was held behind me, my front slammed into his, his other hand came up, his fingers sifting into my hair, then fisting gently to tilt it to the side at the same time he pulled it back.
This shocked me, not in bad way. Oh no, not bad at all.
It was hot.
Then his mouth slammed down on mine.
Oh man.
That was hot too.
Then his tongue thrust into my mouth.
Oh man.
That wasn’t hot.
That was scorching.
And it burned through me from mouth to toes and even up into my hair, blistering. My belly plummeted, my breasts swelled, my body melted into his, my arm wrapped around his shoulders to hold on and my tongue tangled with his because I liked what he was giving me but I wanted more.
When I did this, he growled into my mouth, his fist in my hair twisted, his fingers laced in mine doing the same, both I felt, not with pain, but with a fierce kind of possession I liked, oh God, yes, I liked it a lot. So much, I felt wet and heat flood between my legs, my hand glided up his neck to cup the back of his head and hold him to me and I pressed deep, returning the gift by moaning into his mouth.
When I did, he pressed forward, arching me backward over our arms, deepening an already deep kiss, demanding more and my moan turned to a whimper, not of fear, pain or weakness, but open, unadulterated need.
Sam tore his mouth from mine, my eyes flew open and my lips immediately protested on a breathy plea of, “Sam.”
But not a second later, his fist in my hair was an arm behind my knees, his other hand released mine but held on tight at my back, I was swept up in his arms and he made it to the bed in two strides of his long legs. Then I was down on the bed, the warmth and weight of Sam’s body was on mine, his mouth was back to mine and this was better, way, way better because it came with his hands on me, all over me, and it came with the opportunity of my hands being all over him.
He felt good, God, so good. I was right. He was hard everywhere. And I liked it.
He pressed his hips into mine, tight, deep, I felt them, I liked what I felt and more heat rushed through me.
God, yes, yes. I was right, he was hard everywhere.
I forced a leg out from under him and wrapped it around the back of his thigh, reciprocating the gesture, lifting my hips to fit them to his, his lips left mine to trail down my cheek to my ear where he whispered, “Fuck, baby.”
I liked that too.
A lot.
So much I arched my back, turned my head and ran my tongue up his neck to his ear.
God, he tasted as beautiful as he just was.
“Fuck,” he whispered then his teeth nipped my ear and I trembled instantly, top-to-toe.
Then, no joke, no freaking joke, I heard the creak of a door swinging open and a sultry voice crying, “Buongiorno!”
Sam’s head shot up and his neck twisted.
Seeing as my head was to the bed, just my neck twisted.
And there was Luci, wearing a fabulous outfit, looking stunning, holding a stack of fluffy folded towels and grinning at us unrepentantly.
This went on awhile, Sam and I tangled in a carnal clench on the bed staring at Luci, Luci standing a step inside the doorway gazing at us with a huge grin and not moving.
Finally, Sam asked on a growl that was clearly frustrated, clearly impatient and clearly angry so it was also clearly very scary, “Are you serious?”
“You’re in luck,” she announced. “I have exactly two unused toothbrushes.”
I blinked.
Sam growled again but this one was unintelligibly.
“Sam, caro,” Luci said, striding in (yes, striding in!), “Kia can see the lake from that bed but she’ll see more of it from the boat.”
Was she serious?
And, was this happening?
And, if it was, why?
I didn’t ask these questions. Instead I stayed silent as Sam rolled off and sat up, pulling me with him so I was sitting up too, but close and he settled us with my back to his chest and one of his arms wrapped around my belly.
He did this saying, “Woman, you know I’m trained to kill.”
She smiled at him then ignored him and looked to me.
“And Kia, cara,” she dropped the towels on the foot of the bed and two toothbrushes in their plastic wrappers and a tube of toothpaste bounced off the top of the pile and onto the bed, “it’s morning and you have something to look up on my computer.”
I stared up at her having experienced all of this still snug in the warmth of heated, brilliant foreplay the like I’d not only never experienced at the hands of a (now I knew) seriously not very talented Cooter but also the like I didn’t even know existed and the mistaken belief that, in short order, I would return to that.
Suddenly that disbursed, what was happening intruded and, what could I say?
It was admittedly a little weird and it was definitely crazy.
But it was also hilarious.
So I burst out laughing.
Luci’s sexy chuckle joined my laughter and, honest to God, it actually sounded like it was accented with Italian which was way cool.
Sam dragged my laughing body across his lap and both his arms clamped around me as he declared, “Just to be clear, I’m not finding anything funny right now.”
This made me sober but I did this unfortunately with my eyes on Luci. Then the sultry, sexy, smack you back beautiful Luci snorted.
That’s right! I saw and heard a famous model snort!
I burst into giggles this time and Luci was right with me.
“Fuck me,” Sam muttered.
I giggled harder.
So did Luci.
Sam allowed this.
For approximately two point five seconds.
Then he clipped, “You came, you interrupted, you annoyed now you wanna get out?”
I swallowed my laughter, slapped a hand on his chest and cried, “Sam!”
Sam didn’t even look at me. He kept scowling at Luci.
“Certamente,” she muttered.
“Well?” Sam instantly countered when she didn’t immediately vanish in a puff of smoke.
I pressed my lips together.
Luci planted her hands on her hips. “Breakfast is in half an hour, Sam, you need to get back to your hotel and sort yourself out. I’ll sort Kia out. Then you can enjoy your day together.”
“We were enjoying it before you walked in,” Sam shot back, I smacked his chest again but this time snapped, “Sam!”
He looked at me. “What?”
“What?” I returned.
“Baby, she walked in on us. She’s got eyes, she didn’t miss it.”
I looked at Luci and griped by using universal female griping language, “Ohmigod!”
Luci smiled at me.
“You still haven’t left,” Sam prompted Luci.
“All right, all right,” she mumbled, flicking her hand, turning and gliding like the catwalk model she used to be to the door. “See you at breakfast.”
“Close the door,” Sam ordered.
She closed the door.
I turned my head to look at him in order to say something to him about being rude but I didn’t finish turning my head and got nowhere near saying anything because I found myself on my back, Sam’s solid, heavy torso pressed to mine and his face an inch away.
“Sam,” I breathed, suddenly not feeling snippy but remembering our kiss, not the first one that was crap, the second one that was everything.
“Today, I show you Lake Como even though I don’t know fuck all about Lake Como; I do know how to drive a boat. Tonight, no parties, no friends, no nothing. You, me, dinner. Later tonight, just you and me. You with me?”
“I’m with you,” I whispered, and I was with him. So with him.
His face got even closer and his voice got that sweeter, deeper rough-like-velvet I liked so much when he said gently, “Baby, when I say just you and me, I need you to get I mean just you and me. Now, do you get me?”
“I get you.” This time it was a whisper that sounded a lot like a wheeze because I got him. I so got that I was going to get him.
His eyes held mine then I watched with a deep fascination that affected me systematically when they heated and he whispered, “You taste even better than you look and you’re unbelievably fuckin’ beautiful. Christ,” his head dipped so close I felt his breath on my lips as his blazing eyes burned into mine, “I can’t fuckin’ wait to taste the rest of you.”
Oh man.
Oh God
Oh man.
I couldn’t either.
While I concentrated on breathing and not doing anything stupid like pushing him off, running to the door, locking it, ripping my expensive dress off and then launching myself across the room at him, he twisted us again so he was seated and I was in his lap.
Then, his hand gliding up my neck into my hair, he turned my head to look at him and he ordered, “Give me your room key and tell me what you need. I’ll pick it up.”
This threw me and it mostly threw me because what I needed included panties and I might have just gone at it hot and heavy with Sam, not to mention slept in his arms, not to mention spent hours yammering on telling him my deepest secrets and my not-so-deepest secrets but I wasn’t ready for him to see my panties.
Still, I needed them and, if I was correct, to save myself from the nightmare that would end in me vowing never to eat again that I knew would be me trying on any of Luciana’s clothes; I needed an entire outfit.
“Kia, baby,” Sam called into my frenzied thoughts and I focused on him.
Then I mumbled, “Um…”
To which he grinned, his hand left my hair so both arms could give me a squeeze and he proved yet again that he could totally figure me out.
I knew this when he whispered, “In case you didn’t get me when you told me you got me, honey, just you and me means I’m gonna be in your pants tonight before I take them off so, right now, get over what’s polluting your head, tell me what you need so I can get to the hotel, get it, get back and get your fine ass on a boat and far away from a now up in both our business Luci.”
I stared at him. Then I forced myself to think about this. Then I made some decisions. Then I told him.
When I was done telling him, he stared at me.
Then he burst out laughing.
I was perplexed as I watched him and when he stopped I asked, “What?”
“You need all that to go on a boat?”
I tipped my head to the side not thinking “all that” was all that.
“Well, yes.”
He grinned, then he stood at the same time he slid me off his lap and put me on my feet but he didn’t take his arms from around me and, looking down at me, he muttered, “I’m gonna brush my teeth. You’re gonna find Luci to get a paper and pen and write me a list.”
“Sam, it isn’t that much.”
“Baby, I need underwear, jeans, a shirt, shoes and deodorant. I’ve got a good memory but lost track when your list became five times that.” His arms gave me a squeeze. “Find Luci. Paper. Pen. List.”
“I’m not high maintenance,” I informed him quickly. “All women would need at least that.”
“Not true. You are high maintenance and before you twist that to pollute your head, I don’t care about that either. I like it. I get to best the challenge then enjoy the benefits. But, right now, to move us on, what I need is a list. Yeah?”
I studied his face thinking that it appeared Sam Cooper could get grumpy.
So I felt my best course of action was to agree with a, “Yeah.”
He grinned. Then he dipped his head. Then he touched his mouth to mine.
Seriously sweet.
Then he lifted his head, turned me out of his arms and gently pushed me toward the door.
I accepted the prompt and kept moving but I looked back to see him bent at the waist, his long arm stretched to the toothbrushes, one of his hands in the bed.
God, I was a freak because I thought he looked hot even reaching for a toothbrush.
Then I thought it prudent to look where I was going so I didn’t run into the door.
I was leaving the room but eventually coming back to him.
I was coming back to him.
On that thought, I left the room.
And I did it smiling.