Chapter Four
Sam
The month before the end of the school year was always crazy for any college student. But the month before graduation? It was a tsunami of activities, everything culminating at once. I was being pulled in a thousand different directions—classes and finals and meetings for student council and preparing the sailing team for my departure. Between school and my job at Bundt and Grind, I shouldn’t have had time to do anything but what was expected of me before face-planting into my pillow at night. I should’ve been focusing on my future, on graduating and moving out into the real world.
Instead, I thought about him.
I spent my shifts at the coffee shop waiting for Elliott and hating myself for it. From the moment I went in until the moment I left, I watched the door, both hoping and dreading he would walk through. Turned out I hadn’t needed to worry, because since the night in the boathouse, he hadn’t come into Bundt and Grind. Not once.
And when I wasn’t at the coffee shop? My thoughts were consumed by that goddamn text. The first one he’d sent that’d tipped over the rest of the dominos and had left me aching from the hottest orgasm of my life with nothing to sate this need except my own fingers.
When Elliott had texted he was sorry and he couldn’t see me, I’d assumed he’d meant that evening. I’d texted back, flirty and cute—which just made me cringe now as I thought back on it—saying I could wait a day. Then he’d spouted off about needing to stay away from each other for months. Until graduation and well after, so his bosses—my dad—wouldn’t get the wrong idea. The wrong idea, like the fact that he already knew exactly what I tasted like.
September, he’d said. We could talk again in September.
It would’ve been great if he could’ve come to that conclusion before he’d been tongue-deep in my pussy. So now it was radio silence on his end, and I’d followed suit. He may have been the hottest man I’d ever seen and had given me the best orgasm of my life, but I’d be damned if I went begging for it.
“Sam.” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of my face.
“What?” I asked, finally focusing on her.
With a laugh, she shook her head. “You’ve been zoned out for, like, five minutes. And that poor grass.” She pointed to the space in front of my crossed legs.
Immediately, I stopped tugging on the blades, letting the green pieces I’d torn fall through my fingers. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Just complaining about work. The usual. But what’s with the grass massacre? Stressed?”
That would make the most sense, considering everything currently on my plate. With only the briefest hesitation, I nodded. It wasn’t like I could tell her I’d ridden Dean Goodridge’s face last week in my parents’ boathouse and had come all over his tongue. Lucy was my best friend, but I wasn’t dumb enough to whisper a word about anything that’d happened between Elliott and me, not even to her. Not with the consequences that could be brought down on both of us if word ever got out—consequences like him out of a job and some of my credits questioned or even denied.
“Yeah,” I said. “Just a lot to do before graduation.”
“Have you figured out—”
“Heads up!” a deep voice called a moment before a football fell a couple feet to our left, then bounced toward us.
I reached out and stopped it, glancing up in time to see a guy running toward us. It only took a second to realize it was Matt, football player, one of the senior representatives for student council, and son of my parents’ closest friends.
“Oh shit,” Lucy whispered. “Seth is with him. Stall.”
He was also best friend to Lucy’s current crush.
Fortunately I could stall with the best of them, and I talked Matt’s ear off until Seth finally came over to find out what the holdup was. The rest was up to Lucy. Though from the look of things, she was doing just fine. Both guys were seated next to us on the grass, and she had one hundred percent of Seth’s attention while Matt talked my ear off about an internship he’d scored at the main marketing firm on the island.
It was a beautiful day, warmer than usual, which meant the quad was busy. I was half paying attention to what he was saying—marketing talk was boring as hell—and half scanning the crowd around us.
“—but it’s good to get my foot in the door, you know?” Matt said.
I nodded, turning to look toward him with a smile, when something caught my eye. Twenty feet away, wearing a dark red button-up shirt in a sea of black, stood Elliott, frozen with one foot on the concrete steps in front of the administrative building. Before I could tell myself to look away, to ignore the pull in my belly and focus on what Matt was saying, I let my eyes do a sweep of him, up that impressive body I hadn’t been able to see enough of, and ending on that beautiful face.
Only to find him staring right at me.
Jaw set, shoulders tense, he stood there just watching me. My breath caught at his heated gaze, feeling it all the way to my toes. It’d always been this way between us, since day one, except now there was another layer to it. Another layer we needed to ignore.
Elliott’s eyes flicked away from me for only a moment, toward where Matt sat at my side, then he locked his gaze on mine again. His black-rimmed glasses did nothing to hide his intense stare, and I was helpless to tear my eyes away. It felt like our gazes held forever before he finally looked toward the building and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time and disappearing through the door.
“Sam?” Matt asked, bumping my foot with his to get my attention. “How about you?”
I shook my head, tearing my eyes away from the door Elliott had gone through. “Sorry, what?”
“This summer? What’re your plans?”
I hated this question, because my answer was always met with pitying stares. Like the only reason I’d be working at the marina was because my parents were making me, or because it was the only place I could get a job. Truth was, the water was my home, and any career that got me close to that was one I’d love. “I’ll be working at the marina.”
Matt nodded. “That’s cool. You gonna wait to find a real job after the summer?”
Annnnnd, there it was. A “real” job. As if working my ass off for my family business couldn’t possibly be considered real.
My phone buzzed, saving me from saying something I’d no doubt regret. I glanced at the screen, not recognizing the number, but swiping to answer the call. “Hello?”
“Samantha?” a female voice asked.
“Yes?”
“Hello, this is Bonnie, the administrative assistant for the department of student affairs. Dean Goodridge needs to discuss an important matter with you. Are you available now? I’ve cleared his schedule.”
“Um...” I glanced around, though what I was looking for, I had no idea. Lucy didn’t know anything about Elliott, so it wasn’t like she could give me advice on whether or not I should go to this impromptu meeting. But, really, what choice did I have? When the dean wanted an appointment with you, you said yes. No matter the shady-as-hell circumstances. “Sure. I’m just in the quad. I can be there in five minutes.”
“Perfect, I’ll let him know,” Bonnie said. “See you soon.”
The line went dead, and I stared at the phone for half a second before gathering up my things. “Sorry, guys, I have to run. Lucy, I’ll call you later.”
With a wave, I shouldered my bag and walked away to their chorus of goodbyes, heading toward the building I’d seen Elliott escape into not even ten minutes before. Completely unsure of what awaited me as I walked to his office. Had someone found out? Or, shit, maybe it wasn’t anything at all about us, but about me. If he’d reconsidered things between us, he had my number. Surely he’d call me. But having his assistant contact me as if it were official school business made my stomach sink with dread. What if something had happened with my credits?
Thoughts racing a mile a minute as to what this meeting could mean, I headed to his office. Bonnie sat behind a desk in the reception area, gray hair pulled back into a tight bun and red reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Hello, Samantha. You can go right on back. He’s expecting you.”
I walked down the short hall to his office, took a deep breath, and turned the doorknob. It took only a moment to spot him, pacing in front of his desk, one hand in his pocket, the other tugging at his hair. I tried to ignore how hot he looked and exactly how aware I was of that. How his pants fit him spectacularly, his jacket pulled tight across broad shoulders. How he paced with an air of impatience and frustration. How he yanked at his hair, and how I remembered exactly how it’d felt when I’d had it clutched in my fingers only last week as I’d ridden his face...
Shaking my head of those thoughts, I cleared my throat. “Bonnie said you wanted to see me?”
He jerked his head up, dropping his hand as he let his gaze sweep over my body, cataloguing every inch of me. “Yes, I did. Come in, and please close the door.”
I slipped inside, shutting the door behind me and taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “She didn’t mention why you needed to see me.”
He leaned against his desk as he tore his gaze away and looked out the window. “No, she wouldn’t have said, would she? Not when no one can know.”
“Know what?”
Blowing out a deep breath, he turned his head toward me. “How are you, Sam?”
I stared at him, a disbelieving laugh flying from my lips. Was he seriously starting our conversation with that? How exactly did he think I’d be? “How am I? Well, let’s see. I thought I had a good thing going with this hot guy who came into my work, but it turns out he’s someone completely inappropriate for me to get involved with. Didn’t stop him from giving me the best head of my life, though. But then he decided to bail like it didn’t matter.”
“It mattered. Don’t think it didn’t.”
“I’m not sure what world you live in, but in mine when a guy runs away after getting you off, it’s a sure sign it didn’t mean anything.”
He pushed off the desk and started pacing again, a restrained tiger in a too-small cage. “You think I wanted to do that? Fuck, Sam—I wanted nothing more than to drag you back to my place and tie you to my bed for a week so I could learn every fucking inch of you. I wanted to have breakfast in bed while you told me funny stories from working at the coffee shop or why you like to sail. I wanted the whole goddamn thing, but we can’t have that. Not yet.”
I closed my eyes, trying to stop the images from coming to me, but it was no use. My brain conjured up every instance he mentioned, so vivid and real it was as if they were memories instead of daydreams. So vivid, my body went liquid, my nipples hardening and my pussy growing wet. On a shaky breath, I opened my eyes. “Then why am I here?”
“Because...” He ran a hand through his hair and looked toward the ceiling. “Because I can’t have you, but I can’t stop thinking of you either. I’ve never wanted a woman more in my life. I’ve never been so obsessed with pondering what she was wearing or how her hair was done when she wasn’t around me. I’ve never stayed up all night wondering how I could possibly pass so much time without her when she was all I craved.” He lowered his head, stepping closer until he was directly in front of me. “I called you here because I couldn’t stay away another second.”
My breath was frozen in my lungs, hope of what could be if I believed his words warring with the reality of what had already happened. What he’d insisted happen. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to see you...off campus.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, definitely not.”
“And things are suddenly different now because, why?” It didn’t make sense. It’d been nothing from him—no contact at all. No visits to the coffee shop, no texts, no covert meetings on campus. In fact, the only time I’d seen him since that night in the boathouse had been just prior to him calling me in here. When I’d been in the quad with—”Wait...is this because you saw me with another guy?”
He blanched. “I... It’s not all that.”
I stared at him for a disbelieving moment, before shaking my head and standing to leave. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You were fine waiting to do anything with me until you saw another guy was paying attention. You don’t want me, but no one else can have me either... Fuck that.”
I grabbed my bag and strode toward the door, reaching out to turn the knob. Before I could make contact, he grabbed my wrist and spun me around, tugging me against him until our bodies were pressed together. So much like that night in the boathouse my knees went weak. I rested my hands against his chest as he slipped a hand around my waist and pressed against the small of my back, pulling me tighter to him.
“I do want you,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine. “Never doubt that. I want you so badly, I can’t think of anything else. You’re mine, Sam. Let me prove it.”
My spine snapped straight, hearing him refer to me as his when he’d tossed me aside like I didn’t mean anything only days before. “I’m not—”
Before I could get out the rest of my words, Elliott slanted his lips over mine, capturing my protests in his mouth. I went boneless at the first press of his lips, sinking into him as he slid his tongue against mine. Where I’d expected it to be urgent, all tongues and teeth, he’d taken us in a different direction, slowly stroking his tongue against mine as his thumb rubbed constant circles against the small of my back. With his other hand, he reached down and cupped my ass, tugging me up on tiptoes and pressing me against his cock, hard as steel in his pants. A little bit sweet, a little bit naughty.
I moaned into his mouth, wanting him desperately. Wanting him to strip me down, lay me on his desk, and sink inside me. Wanting to do nothing but be with him. Another second and I may have asked him to do just that.
But I wasn’t going down that road. Not today.
With a hand against his chest, I pushed him away and stepped back, my breaths coming fast and harsh. “You can’t just...” I shook my head, pressing my fingers to my swollen lips. “You can’t just say that and kiss me and think it’s all okay. You can’t say I’m yours when you’ve spent the past week avoiding me.”
“Sam, wait—”
I help up a hand to cut him off. “I’m not a plaything, Elliott. You can’t pull me in and toss me aside, only to decide you want me again. And you certainly can’t do it all the while claiming I’m yours.”
He stood rooted to the spot I’d left him, his hands yanking relentlessly at his hair. “You may not like me calling you mine, but I’m yours, too, Sam. Completely.”
With one last glance, I opened his office door and said over my shoulder, “Prove it.”
And then I walked away.
* * *
The buzz of incoming texts went off before I’d made it across the quad and to my last class. I didn’t even have to look to know they were Elliott, the messages coming one right after another.
Once I’d gotten into my class and settled in a seat at the back of the room, I pulled out my phone and stared at the notifications. Seven texts. All from Elliott.
It wasn’t him that made me call.
You have to know that.
Tell me you believe it.
Those had come in rapid succession, all stamped at the same time. Then there was three minutes of nothing before another set, one right after another.
Seeing you with another man wasn’t why I called—it was just the knife that cut the thread holding me back.
I would’ve called you today even if I hadn’t seen you and him together.
I’ve missed you.
I’ve always wanted you.
I rolled my eyes, debating with myself on whether or not to answer. In the end, I decided on a short I’m in class and left it at that, placing my phone facedown on the table in front of my seat. Vowing I wouldn’t look for the next fifty minutes, regardless if he texted again or not.
While I tried to pay attention as the professor spoke, the buzzing of incoming texts kept distracting me, but I wouldn’t allow myself to look. Which meant my mind wandered to all the messages he sent. Was he still pleading? Had he turned sweet? Dirty? Filthy?
When class was dismissed, I packed up my things and left. It took a herculean effort, but I didn’t peek at my phone on the walk home. Didn’t even glance until I was tucked away in my bedroom, glad I hadn’t run into my parents at the marina on my way to my apartment.
I dropped my bag, then collapsed on my bed, finally allowing myself to look at my texts. And he hadn’t disappointed.
He’d gone sweet—I miss you. So fucking much. I miss seeing your smile every morning. I miss spending too much money on coffee just to have you write on the side of my cup—making me melt. He’d gone dirty—You said you’re not a plaything. I think you would be for me. I’d love to play with you again—which made me sigh and close my eyes, remembering the kiss earlier. And then he’d gone filthy—I dream of you riding my face again. I can’t keep my hands off my cock when I think of the taste of you—his words burning me up inside, making me crave his kiss, his touch.
And while those were all amazing, each one serving to chip away at my reservations, what sealed the deal was the text that came in as I lay in bed, staring up at his messages.
I know I was an idiot. I’ll fall on my knees and beg you to forgive me if that will heal the pain I’ve caused. Anything you need, anything you want... I’m in. Completely. Let me be yours.
Bringing the phone to rest against my chest, I closed my eyes, remembering the past two months. Our encounters at Bundt and Grind which started something neither of us had been prepared for. Forbidden or not, our connection was undeniable. And it seemed as though he was finally in it and willing, rules be damned.
I thought over what it’d felt like when we’d finally given in at the boathouse and again in his office, how he’d gripped me so tightly, owning my mouth like no other man had. There was no stopping my reaction. No deterring my decision.
Every bit of me—even my heart that had somehow gotten tangled in the mess—was all in.