Then, without another word, a goodnight kiss or even a gesture, he walked into the house as I watched in stunned silence.
Once he disappeared up the stairs, I twisted back to forward in my seat and looked down at Memphis who was still looking beyond me to the door. She felt my eyes, her eyes came to me and she yapped.
“Yes, baby, that was weird.”
She yapped again and I nodded.
“I didn’t like it either.”
She whined a little then settled in my lap.
I pressed my lips together, my mind harking back from now to the first night Sam and I slept together.
He’d never gone to bed without me.
And I’d never gone to bed without him closely following me.
Then I unpressed my lips when I lifted my Amaretto to take a drink.
I swallowed and whispered, “Shit,” to the sea.
Memphis concurred with a quiet, mini-yap.
Yep. Shit.
* * * * *
I woke up with Sam’s mouth at my neck and his hand sliding into my panties.
“Sam,” I whispered and his mouth came to mine.
“No talking,” he rumbled then he made this so by kissing me, his tongue driving into my mouth hard at the same time his finger slid inside me.
I wasn’t awake, I wasn’t ready and I whimpered with surprise mixed with the usual pleasure.
Sam read it, his finger slid out and hit my clit, pressing, rolling, my whimper this time was again surprised but now there was far more pleasure. My hips rose up into his hand as his tongue kept driving into my mouth.
Then his lips released mine and his torso twisted. My panties were torn down my legs and Sam rolled, his arm hooking me, taking me with him.
I didn’t know what was happening, I still wasn’t awake but I was turned on.
Then I was turned on more when Sam laid back, pulling me up, yanking me over him and maneuvering me to straddling his head.
Then his hands at my hips tugged me down and he was eating me.
My head fell back and my fingers searched for the headboard to hold on.
He was hungry, ravenous. God, he’d never done it like that before, not only in this position but also him being so damn hungry. His hands clenched at my hips, wrenching me down, grinding me into his mouth and tongue.
Oh God. God!
Before I knew it was coming, it came. My head jerking back again, I cried out as it seared through me.
But Sam kept pulling me down, crushing me to his mouth, taking.
Beautiful.
Sublime.
I moaned, whimpered, panted, held the headboard in a death grip feeling it, all of it, loving it and then orgasm number two soared through me.
Sam pushed me off before I was done and I tried to catch my breath, catch a thought but found myself on my knees with Sam on his knees behind me, his arms around me. His hand went back between my legs, torture, God, such beautiful torture. I was so sensitive my hips jerked and his other hand plunged up my nightie, his fingers curling around my breast, his thumb rolling my nipple.
“Sam, honey, too much,” I protested but my hips made my words a lie, rolling, pressing, seeking. I wanted it, wanted him, wanted more.
Sam’s teeth nipped the skin behind my ear and he growled, “No talking.”
“Sam –”
His hand between my legs slid away, his arm clamped around my waist, his other hand curled tight at my breast, I felt him move, adjust then drive up inside me, straight to the root, filling me.
My head again flew back, colliding with his shoulder.
“No… fucking… talking,” he commanded, deep and low in my ear.
Then his arms left me, one hand went to the middle of my back, pushing me down so I was chest to mattress. Both his hands went to my hips, fingers digging deep, he pulled me sharply back to meet his thrusts, pushing me forward, pulling back, slamming into me, slamming me into him.
Oh God. It was awesome. It was hot. And it was going to happen again.
Before it could, he pulled out. I moaned my discontent but he didn’t make me wait. He jerked me up, shifted me to facing him and turned us, moving up the bed. My back hit headboard, his hands wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms slid around his shoulders and his mouth slammed down on mine as his cock plunged into me.
Again and again and then he drove deep, grinding hard and groaned in my mouth as my limbs got tight, my third orgasm swept through me and I moaned into his.
I recovered slowly listening to Sam doing the same, feeling his breaths steadying against my lips, keeping him held close to me, held tight.
Then, even though I didn’t say a word, he ordered, “Do not speak.”
My heart started beating faster again.
He didn’t glide; he didn’t take me gently after he took me hard. He stayed buried and his lips didn’t leave mine as I stared into his shadowy eyes which were staring back at me.
“Burned in my brain,” he growled and I swallowed, keeping him held tight to me. “You in those sandals, that dress, sittin’ across from me, tryin’ to pretend I wasn’t there.”
At his words, emotion soared through me, a lot, too much. It felt my skin couldn’t contain it and my limbs spasmed around him.
Sam wasn’t done.
“Seein’ you sittin’ alone that night after dinner, so beautiful, so fuckin’ beautiful, speakin’ to you only for you to turn and face me and see you had tears in your eyes. Those tears, Christ,” he bit off the last word on a snarl. “Never in my life… never felt that. I didn’t fuckin’ know you and seein’ those tears in your eyes fucking undid me.”
Oh my God!
“Sam –” I whispered and his hips ground into mine.
“Do not speak, Kia.”
I closed my mouth.
“Burned in my brain,” he muttered.
God. What was happening?
“You opening the door to me wearin’ that white dress. You in my arms tellin’ me about your girl with her cardboard cutout. You lyin’ beside me tellin’ me about your Mom makin’ birthdays special. You on the boat, the wind in your hair. You at the table, your head in your hand, your eyes on me. You driving down on my cock after I set you on fire.”
He remembered everything. Everything about me. Every moment. Every word.
God, God what was happening?
His arms around me got so tight it was difficult to breathe even as he threatened to tear apart my heart saying, “Should have let you have your breakfast pretending to ignore me.”
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
Sam kept speaking. “I didn’t and now you’re mine, Kia. Mine,” he declared on another powerful arm squeeze that forced the breath right out of me.
Then suddenly his voice gentled but there was an edge to it that made my heart clutch. A hopelessness. A melancholy.
“Burn us into your brain, baby. Every second, every breath, burn us into your brain.”
I tried again, “Honey –”
That was all I got out before one of his hands drove into my hair, fisted and he rumbled, “No, Kia. Say nothing except to promise me.”
“We need to –”
His entire, massive body pressed mine into the headboard and he growled fiercely, “Promise me.”
I stared into his face in the dark, my heart beating, my lungs burning, my stomach hurting and I was lost. Clueless. I didn’t know what to do. What just happened, all he said, he was in the grip of something fierce and ugly and I didn’t know how to beat it back or let him know I was at his side to help him fight it.
So I took the only option available to me.
One of my hands slid up his neck to cup the back of his head and my lips brushed his before I left them there and whispered, “I promise you, baby.”
His arms got tight again then his mouth moved down my cheek and he pressed his face in my neck and held me. Even when he pulled out, he kept his fa
ce in my neck, my body pressed against the headboard and he kept holding me.
I held him back then finally, I turned my head and in his ear I whispered, “I need to go clean up.”
“No.” His head came up. “Tonight, you keep all of me with you. You don’t wash any of me away.”
“Okay,” I said instantly even as his words tore at my heart.
Then he pulled me from the headboard, shifting us so we were in our usual positions, Sam on his back, me tucked close to his side, cheek to his shoulder. But this time, his other hand crossed his chest and his fingers drifted through my hair and back and again and again.
I tangled my legs with his and pressed closer.
Then I turned my face to his shoulder, kissed his silken skin and whispered there, “I love you, honey.”
His hand settled on cheek a moment before it went away and he muttered in a normal Sam tone, “Good.”
I let out my breath, turned my head and laid my cheek back on his shoulder.
Sam’s arm got tighter.
He fell asleep way before me.
Hours later, I woke up alone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Listen to Your Heart
One month later…
I was standing at the basin in the bathroom, brushing my teeth when Sam walked in wearing running clothes. That was to say loose shorts, a loose shirt with the sleeves cut off and running shoes.
He walked behind me, stopped, kissed my shoulder then found my eyes in the mirror.
“Gonna run. Be back before your folks hit the road.”
I nodded, still brushing.
He held my eyes.
I tried not to hold my breath.
Then he shocked me when he suddenly whispered, “Love me?”
It took everything I had not to fall to my knees.
As usual, he’d figured me out. He knew I was struggling.
He knew.
I triumphed, pulled the brush out of my mouth and answered, “Yes.”
He closed his eyes but I knew he tried to hide it because his arm went around my belly, his face quickly disappeared in my neck and against the skin there, he muttered, “Good.”
What he did not do was tell me he loved me.
He never told me he loved me.
Never.
His arm gave me a squeeze, he let me go and walked out of the bathroom.
When I lost sight of him, my hand shot out to curl around the basin. I dropped my head and closed my eyes. Then I held on tight and I held on a long time.
Then, when I felt I could do it, I lifted my head, slid the brush into my mouth and resumed brushing.
* * * * *
The day of Luci’s breakthrough everything changed between Sam and me.
None of it… not one thing… was good.
At first, I almost didn’t notice. It was just a niggle. But I put that down to his weird mood when he got back from Luci’s and the episode when he woke me up in the middle of the night, made love to me then forced that promise.
It was easy not to notice but I had to admit, I was kind of in denial. Still, Luci was getting her house ready for the market, Celeste was still there and Luci was still processing, talking, working things through.
We also had a short visit from a man called Joe “Cal” Callahan, Sam’s security specialist. Like Tanner Layne and Lee Nightingale, Joe Callahan was tall, dark, built and unbelievably gorgeous. He also had a scar on his face that marred his perfect male beauty in a way that was hot but also made him more than a little bit scary. But in the short time he was there, although gruff and mostly monosyllabic, he smiled a lot which made him a bit less scary. He also openly took a phone call from his woman which became a call where he also spoke to his woman’s two daughters during which his face got soft, he smiled even more and he laughed often.
This made him not scary at all.
That was until he traced how my hit man breached his system. This clearly pissed him off. Definitely a man who took his business seriously, had built a reputation and was not fond of that taking a hit. He did not need to make adjustments considering how the hit man breached his system included the hit man bribing someone at the electric company.
Cal visited this unfortunate electric company employee then returned, announcing firmly, “Situation neutralized.”
He gave no further information.
Sam nodded. I shivered.
Needless to say, all of the above took a lot of attention.
But also during it I noticed that Sam’s runs were longer and his stays at the gym were too.
And I further noticed a couple of times when Sam would tell me he had to go meet “a buddy” or had “something to do”. He didn’t tell me who the buddy was or what he had to do. He’d just go, come back and, like the day after the night of my promise, pretend it didn’t happen.
I let this slide and practiced patience, listened to Luci, spent time with Celeste and hoped.
I also kept true to my mission. I didn’t shower Sam with attention or change anything about me. I gave him me openly and steadily.
But I told him I loved him often. Not ridiculous amounts but enough.
He never said he loved me back. He liked it, I knew, he made that clear.
But his response was always, “Good.”
Then Celeste was gone, Luci’s house was on the market and she started to prepare for the big move. I helped. Sam helped.
But Sam’s runs kept running long, his workouts kept getting longer and the times he had to see to something or help out a buddy, none of these ever explained, increased in frequency.
I thought about it and decided to stop letting it slide.
If he had to see to something, I asked what.
Sam would say, “Not a big deal, baby. Won’t be long.”
Then he’d kiss me and he’d be gone.
Then if he had to help out a buddy, I’d ask who.
And Sam would say, “You don’t know him, honey. We’re not tight but he’s called a marker. I’ll be back soon.”
Then he’d kiss me and he’d be gone.
One could not say I had an enormous amount of experience with healthy relationships.
That said, I knew this was simply not right.
But it was worse. He was still Sam, gentlemanly, affectionate, attentive, but something was there, something was on his mind or there was something between us. I didn’t get it, couldn’t put my finger on it. The only thing I knew, Sam wouldn’t share.
And I was right. He didn’t. He acted like nothing was amiss.
I let this slide, practiced patience and hoped. I also kept up the steady flow of giving me and sharing my feelings for him.
And to the last, all I ever got back was, “Good.”
And that started to hurt.
When Sam was gone, I spent time with Luci. I spent time discovering Kingston. I walked my dog on the beach. I cleaned Sam’s house. I went to the grocery store. I did the laundry. I ironed his shirts. I talked to my friends and family on the phone.
But patience wasn’t working. I was seeing Sam less and less and I was feeling Sam withdraw more and more.
Then the time had come for my family to visit and I couldn’t let it slide, I couldn’t practice patience, I couldn’t hope. They’d notice, I knew they would. I had to make something happen. I had to find out what the fuck was going on.
I timed it when I thought it was right. We were in a moment, they were coming few and far between but it was a moment like it used to be between us. Sam seemed mellow, laidback… Sam.
We were watching a movie on DVD. We’d had a good day out buying a pullout couch for his office so Gitte and Kyle could sleep there. Sheets. Gifts to give my family. Sam had made me dinner and I’d kept him company in the kitchen, drinking beer, being stupid, making him laugh. He hadn’t seen a buddy. He’d only run for an hour. He didn’t have something to see to. It was just us all day.
And as we lay on the couch, cuddled together, me with my back to the cou
ch, my front plastered to Sam, my cheek on his chest, my eyes on the movie; Sam with his arm around me, his fingers trailing my hip and waist in random patterns, his eyes on the movie, I took my shot.
“This movie sucks,” I announced and that was not a ploy. It did. It wasn’t bad. It was bad.
I heard and felt the rumble of his chuckle, his body shaking before he agreed, “It seriously fuckin’ does, baby.”
I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his smiling, beautiful eyes.
God, I missed that.
God, God, God, I missed seeing his eyes smile.
“Sorry,” I muttered because the movie was my choice.
“Punishment, next three flicks we rent, I pick.”
“Okay,” I whispered then pushed myself on top of him, reached out to the coffee table, tagged the remote and pointed it at the TV. I hit the button and the action paused. Then I tossed the remote back on the table and turned back to him. Staying on top of him, I placed my hands on his chest and caught his eyes. “Can we talk instead?”
The guard slammed down.
Oh man. I actually saw it slam… right… down.
Both his hands came up and sifted into my hair at the sides, holding it back and he replied, “Better things we could do, baby.”
It should be noted that through these nearly three weeks, our sex life didn’t suffer.
No. Not at all.
It was better than ever, like that night of the promise, hot, heavy, hard, intense, out-of-control… but desperate. It was the kind of sex I didn’t have to burn in my brain. Sam did it for me. Every touch, every taste, every stroke I’d never forget. It was beautiful. It was the only thing we shared that made me believe.
Even so…
“I’d rather talk,” I told him quietly.
His hands slid through my hair, down my back and his arms wrapped around me.
Then he invited shortly, “Do it.”
Not a good start.
“We’re…” I hesitated then pointed out, “Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Kia,” he replied instantly. So instantly I blinked.
He couldn’t possibly think that.
“Sam, since Luci had her thing on the beach, things have not been the same.”