A/N: Mature content.
"Mia?" A round pair of dark brown eyes, framed with silver smokey shadow and black liner opened Sam's door. His porch light cast golden highlights on her high cheekbones. Her tight black dress hugged her curves, but her shoulders drew my attention. Her clavicle, etched with shadows, was perfectly straight and steady. As someone who constantly corrected compressed postures, her shoulders were drawn down, lifting her chest in a proud, defiant position. As if the world had slighted her, but she refused to bow down. Her natural hair was a wild, untamed halo around her head and her voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "Wow, you're tall."
Music and hummed conversations filtered from behind her, along with a faint whiff of her half-empty red wine glass.
"Simone?" I frowned at her being the hostess. "How are you?"
"Great. I'm greaaat." She tipped her glass and drained it in two chokes. A blood red nail flashed as her thumb flicked a drop off the corner of her lips and she eyed where her red lipstick kissed the rim of her glass. "My divorce was finalized last week, so my ex is now going public with his mistress."
"Oh, fuck." I shut the door and steered her inside. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." She wobbled on her six-inch heels. My hand cupped her arm, and I led her into the kitchen, where I sat her down and handed her a bottle of water from the island. "I got full custody of our son and he was a lying, cheating sonofabitch."
"That's... Congratulations?" I took her empty glass and locked my eyes on Jeremiah. "No more wine for you. Trust me, it won't help."
Turning around, there was no sign of Sam, but Jeremiah smirked when I gestured with a throat slice that Simone was cut off. Warmth and red nails pressed into my upper arm. "Hey," her whisper-yell into the side of my shoulder fanned a warm, tannic breath over my face. "I'm so happy to see Sam and you together."
Together. The word dried up my mouth. Six days since Sam and I... I couldn't say the memories rushed back because they'd never left. My forearms prickled with goosebumps. Pulses traveled from the tips of my fingers to nestled in between my legs.
Sam awoke a wildness inside me, a reckless lack of ambition that left me equally grateful as terrified. Heat simmered beneath my skin at the smell of his house. Its warm, casual vibe welcomed me as always, although I felt unworthy of its reception.
Despite being drunk off her tits, Simone's words warmed my cheeks. "We're not together-together... I don't know. Have you seen him?"
"He's upstairs. Hang on. This is important." Her talons sank deeper, and her dark brown eyes rounded. "After the accident and Candy left, I'm so glad Sam has you on the team. He needs more people who have his back."
I was the last person who deserved that acknowledgement. All I'd done to his back was cling to it in desperation. The pulse between my legs hummed. "Uhh... thanks." I patted her shoulder and weaved through Sam's kitchen to the back steps. Friendly smiles blurred and Abby and Michael's quadruple thumbs up made me roll my eyes.
Heaviness pulled down my legs, making each step harder. I gripped the railing and took a slow breath. All week, I cursed my feelings. I should have been riddled with guilt for cheating on Nate, but I didn't. That constant mindfuck forced me into bed hibernation.
A tall, leggy blonde bombshell in a fire engine red cocktail dress smiled at me from the top of the steps. Full of scrutiny, her brown eyes dragged over me. Whatever test she administered, I must have passed because she smiled. "Amelia?"
What was she doing on this floor? My eyes flitted down the hallway, which showed no Sam. Petty satisfaction filled me when I climbed the last step and she was six inches shorter. A pink flush spread over her face, her mascara was smudged at the corners, her red lipstick was absolutely perfect, and her pupils were round enough to eat the brown out of her irises.
"Ashley." Her arms choked me into a tight, breasts meet breasts, hug. Mine were bigger. "I'm so relieved Sam's shoulder is healed."
"Right," I rasped out under her gorilla grip.
"Sorry, I'm a hugger." She released me and squeezed my arms. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person. And this is my husband, Rick."
My eyes followed her gaze, to a hallway bathroom that a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out of and smoothed his hands over his black hair. He tucked his blue polo shirt into his gray pants and approached with the same red cheeks. Once near us, he roped an arm around Ashley's waist.
Oh. They've been... Good for them? This was why I was antisocial. "Hey." I whooshed out an exhale at Sam's publicist. His married publicist. "Where's Sam?"
"Bathroom, I think." She leaned closer and murmured in my ear, "He'll be happy to see you."
"Right. Let me go say hi then." I pulled a tight smile and made my way down the hall. I struck out in two guest bedrooms, both of which had a view of the back yard. Soft lights were strung around the covered porch and his pool lights illuminated the soft water ripples. Each room was dark and empty.
I gasped at Sam's bedroom. A warm mix of spice and faint stink of sweaty gym clothes was all Sam. I smiled at a picture of him and his parents on his dark wood dresser and paused at his massive four-poster bed. If I wasn't wearing makeup, then I would faceplant into his puffy, white comforter. "Sam?"
"In here," his voice called out of the cracked open bathroom door, followed by the sound of running sink water. I dragged my lead feet across the floor. The closer I approached his bathroom door, my heart became heavier than my steps and my stomach twisted around itself. I pushed the door handle, to a sight that dropped my jaw.
Sam stood at the sink, drying his hands with a white towel. Compared to his casual workout clothes, Sam's formal wear was a visual feast. The bitch between my legs ached for her piece. He was hotter in person than the blurred phone screen I clicked through like an obsessed fangirl. The black pants painted on his tree stump thighs sent hot throbs through me. His black dress shirt hugged that muscular frame that drilled me into oblivion, outlining his broad chest, rounded shoulders, and narrow waist.
With his beard trimmed to a clean jawline, he was devilishly handsome. But his eyes pinned me in place. The warm browns brightened, chased by a heat that swayed me against the door.
"I'm sorry." Sam's blurted out words dissolved any uncertainty I had following Michael's mandate that I come tonight. Sincerity slipped through the crack in his tone, as rich in tone as it was in relief.
I blinked. He wasn't mad?
My moment of boldness ended when I closed his bathroom door behind me. Both legs locked up and my ankle rolled. I wobbled worse than a newborn deer and accepted Sam's help. His palm cupped my elbow, his fingers sending goosebumps up the back of my arm. The other hand's fingers lifted through my hair and cupped the nape of my neck. His touch burned my skin in a hold that was both supportive and invoking.
I pulled back before I followed through on what my body screamed for. His eyes piercing daggers through me didn't help. Torment burned in his pupils and willed me to feel his pain. It gave me as much whiplash as my push-pull bullshit.
My voice was weak and hollow. "I'm sorry too. So sorry. Sam, we should ta-"
His mouth covered mine. Heat from his lips rushed an airy sensation into my chest. I lifted my hands and fisted his shirt. The muscles in his chest tightened. He teased my mouth open with a tug on my bottom lip and slid his tongue along the seam. It wasn't the frantic, teeth smashed desperate version of a kiss my body ached for, but it was the kiss I needed – impatient, reassuring, and drew me in closer.
Fuck, I missed this.
The frailty of my thoughts dissolved under a rash of lightheadedness and heat that enflamed me. His apologies continued as his body closed the gap. His fingers dug into my hips, a grounding pinch that throbbed lines of excitement up my thighs. A quick tug compressed my lungs against his hard chest, shortening the breaths passing through my nose.
A slammed contact in my backside made my head spin. Or maybe it was the way his lips pressed and sucked mine like his life depended on it. They were warm, soft, and addictive. His angry, possessive hold clenched my stomach. I needed them more than I needed anything else at this moment. Except for the door being locked. That we both needed.
"You came." Shivers trembled down my spine when his legs slotted between mine and nudged them wider. The edge of my skirt curled up, but the air that kissed my heated skin was nothing to Sam's hand lifting my leg around his waist and pressing his swelling interest against mine.
His mouth moved to harsh, sloppy pecks down my jawline, approaching my ear. "Look at you. Beautiful." His groaned words vibrated down the side of my neck. "Do you know how much I missed you, darlin'?"
"I have some idea." I shifted my hips against the hard column, pressed long and thick between my folds. This was bad. So bad. But also, oh, so good. Ache swelled with sensitivity where we connected, a rub of warm friction that throbbed the nerves behind my underwear's flimsy barrier. Arousal tickled and pooled inside me.
"Fuck, I can't think straight with you wearing that." The way his hips rolled into mine, I wished my dress was also rumpled up on the floor. Two hours of prep tonight, including shaving off all the right hairs between mumbled practice apologies in the shower, were worth it to hear those words. The black lace edge of my skirt raised from hugging my thighs to bunched under Sam's grip on my hips. Soaked and ruined, I wanted my panties gone.
My answer was stolen by the shaky breath I took in. His mouth opened, fanning warm breaths down the small plunge of my neckline to where my breasts poked sharp points. His hand was warm under my skirt, fingers tracing up my thigh before squeezing the back of it and pulling me closer.
Dark determination burned in his eyes. My heart pounded at seeing them flooded with the same lust that surged through me. Curling my fingers over his shoulders, I wanted him. In the way he left me speechless, the way his stubbornness challenged mine, and despite all the ways I misjudged him, I wanted him. Speech wasn't my friend because, "I want you, Sam," came out in a desperate, needy whisper.
He shifted against me. His erection slotted between my legs, rubbing heated lines of friction over my nerves. They throbbed with need, slicking wet as his fingers hooked my underwear and dragged it down. Cool air hit my heated skin.
Oh fuck. "Sam," I whispered as his lips trailed hot down the side of my neck, then curved to my shoulder. My eyes stretched wide when his finger dipped into my wet heat, making my insides squeeze around the intrusion. "I'm sorry. We should-"
"Sam?" A loud knock at the door signaled my cock-blocking brother. One look at my inflamed face showed I needed a cold shower. Sam's second finger slipped inside. Inward curls rubbed the right spot and parted my legs wider. I slacked my head against his chest and screwed my eyes shut.
"Ten minutes," he called. His fingers pushed deeper in until his palm bumped my outer folds. My clit pulsed. A moan strained the chords of my throat.
Michael sighed. "I'll give you twenty."
Before my lusty mind sobered up, Sam had me hinged over the counter. The exposure prickled awareness over my slicked entrance, and I crooned another needy whine at his reflection. My elevated breaths were the only sounds until he spoke.
"I like this." His eyes burned dark, and his finger spread arousal up to my clit. He brushed the sensitive apex of nerves in slow swipes. Up and down, he moved with infinite patience while I tightened and flinched. "Wet. Needy. Wanting me."
I groaned under the tightness from my insides swelling. Tickles of arousal seeped out my entrance, which he collected and painted up my seam to where my clit erupted in electric tingles beneath the swollen skin.
A wall of heat towered over my back, followed by his lips on the side of my neck. "We'll have to be fast." A quiet knock of his knuckles hit the counters on either side of my hips. The need to feel us connected trembled down my spine where his palm splayed. "But I'll make it up to you tonight when the house is empty except for your voice screaming my name."
His dirty words, and the mouth he spread them with, spread wildfire across my skin. "Sam... We shouldn't..." Why was I talking and what was this shit coming out of my mouth?
My whispered threat died when his fingers returned between my seam and pressed into my heated skin. Finding the nerves at the apex, he rubbed until my fists curled and my head bowed. With one hand stroking my outside skin, one of his other fingers plunged inside.
"No," his voice hummed warmth into my shoulder. "We shouldn't. But I need to. And the way you're soaking my fingers, so do you."
"Mmph." I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes closed. A pinch on my folds snapped them open.
"Let go," he whispered and pressed his palm into my mound. My legs were jelly, all my weight pressed on my elbows and his palm. "So, I can bury myself in you and watch you come apart all over again."
With half-closed eyes, redness all over my face, and lust-blown pupils, I was a hot, panting mess. Sam's hooded eyes stared at me like I was his obsession. His gaze warmed my skin where he looked. He mapped the arch of my lower back, the line of my jaw, and the swell of my ass. Clothed with my skirt rolled up to my waist, only the intimate part of me was splayed open and exposed.
Hot tension built inside me, sparks erupting where Sam's finger rubbed. My eyelids were heavy, but I focused on his reflection. Unlike his stoic posture, his gaze was dark and unbridled. They issued a silent challenge, but it was the, "Let go, darlin'" that released my orgasm with a crash that wracked shudders down my spine. My entrance quivered and choked his finger. He stopped moving once I gasped for breaths. Relief seared through me, swelling my insides and trickling fluid out of my entrance.
A whimper twitched my lips when his finger pulled out, replaced by a stifled moan when he slicked my entrance. A drawer near my hip opened and he pulled on a condom.
The warmth of his pelvis spread over my backside and his hands adjusted my shirt at my hips. Soft fingers prodded my folds open, and he entered me with one smooth, slow push. I stretched around him, faint beats tapping at our contact point. My knees trembled, prompting me to lower onto my elbows. The resurging need shifted my hips back to push him deeper. His reflected face morphed from tensed to satisfied in one push.
It was beautiful. I envied his transformation.
One of his hands gripped my hip, the other's fingers rubbed at my clit. The combination of his touch, his fullness, the body heat radiating off his chest into my back, and the scent of his deodorant and soap made my head spin. His hips rolled in tandem with his fingers clenching into my hips.
His slow and hesitant pushes became harder, faster thrusts that drilled into the spot where more ache swelled like a scream for relief. With a pinched grip, he dragged me across the counter. Wetness on my throbbing flesh magnified each smack of contact with licks of pleasure. I bit my cheek to hold back the moans that tapped on the back of my teeth.
He was too fast, too punishing, and morphed my body into a pliant, greedy state for more. My second peak surged with a rush of lightheadedness and stolen breaths. Ache tightened our connection, curled my fingers into my palms, and brought my chin to my chest. I clenched around him, squeezing down and receding the euphoric swell with a low cry and deep inner spasms.
A shudder weakened my thighs and my spine locked up. Weakness rendered me useless. Sam pushed deeper, faster, taking what he needed for his own relief. He groaned my name in between pants and came with a grip so tight on my hips, I hoped he branded the skin. His damp forehead met my shoulder, then his lips with more raspy breaths than kisses. "I... didn't plan that. Seeing you here totally unraveled me."
Another drawer opened, followed by softness pressed into my hand.
"I'm sorry," I whispered while cleaning between my thighs with the washcloth he handed me. Sam smirked at how I clung to the counter, unable to stand fully upright. "I need to tell you-"
A second knock at the door preceded Michael's impatient voice. "Sam? Sorry, but the caterer needs you."
"Take as long as you need," he whispered and pressed his lips into mine in a slow, languid kiss. "We'll talk tonight. I'm all yours."
All mine. Warmth spread into my chest. One freshly fucked reflection glance and I locked the door. My previously curled hair looked like I'd been electrocuted. After using the toilet and washing my face, I opened a few drawers to find another towel. My first attempt revealed Sam's condom stash, which I closed with a snap.
My fingers clenched around the handle of the second drawer down. A note nestled inside peered up at me. My cheeks chilled under the traces of water.
Sam,
I'd say that I hate leaving this note but I don't. I should've written it sooner or, even better, had the guts to tell you myself. I'm leaving for good this time and I don't want you to contact me.
I thought I could believe you. I love you, Sam. I trusted you with my love, my future, and you shattered it.
Even worse, I can't stomach seeing you with them anymore. It makes me sick to my stomach. Simone and Ashley were our friends! You've all betrayed me. I love you, but I'm not strong enough to forgive you. Even if I can't prove you cheated, I'm done playing the fool.
Candace
This wasn't my business. An acidic taste coated my tastebuds. The drawer handle trembled in my grip. Why had he kept this note? And Simone and Ashley? He was... with them!?
With a sway in my stance, I curled my hands into fists around the counter edge. The room blurred and spun around me. Constriction squeezed my throat, and a sickening sensation filled my stomach. Candace's words ran together. A tremble vibrated my lower lip. My heart tumbled inside my chest. I heaved a raspy breath. Then another. And another, but I couldn't breathe.
Don't jump to conclusions, Mia. Get the truth from Sam.
My entire forehead throbbed, but I pushed the drawer closed. It bumped against an obstruction, so I pulled it back open. An orange pill bottle with a white cap rolled forward. A chill trickled down my spine at the label. My heart dropped in a rushed plummet, stopping only when it bottomed out in my nightmares.
No.
A heavy sensation filled me, and my mind went blank. My body became pumped full of lead. I sank my teeth into my lower lip and burst the flesh with pain. Strain swelled behind my eyes, but I couldn't blink. I curled my fingers around the bottle. It rattled with trembles I couldn't control. I threaded the pad of my thumb around the cap and depressed the familiar bottle into the flesh of my palm. A chill surged deep into my bones. Dryness coated my tongue and choked my throat to strangulation.
"No."
It was the same. I dumped my purse's contents onto the counter, then dug through them to retrieve my phone. It shook in my hand, so I set it on the counter and peered at the screen. A quick search pulled up article after article about Sam's accident.
Sam Pearson suffered a horrific car accident. Last night, Pearson, 26, was found with two unidentified women. Person's car ran off I-45 near Ennis and a tree collision left him in critical condition. Sources have confirmed neither was his longtime girlfriend, Candace Wild, who wasn't present at the Dallas-based party Pearson left. Toxicology reports revealed a mix of alcohol and-
It's... it's... No.
The identities of the girls in Sam's car accident hadn't ever been identified. I assumed Simone had gotten to them with her NDA cuffs, not that she and Ashley were them.
His publicist and his lawyer?
Sam slept with his staff.
And I was no better.
Disgust coated my skin and seeped into my pores. I retrieved Candy's note, whose words focused the more I blinked. With hasty hands, I scooped my purse items back and picked up my lipstick. The berry red color looked better in the message I scribbled on Sam's mirror than on my lips. I slammed the bottle of pills on top of Candy's note and got the fuck out of there.
A soft hand caught my elbow as I stomped down the hallway. "Mia?"
I blinked Abby's face into focus, concern filling her eyes. "No," I whispered, her face blurring under the tears that coated my eyes. With trembling fingers, I grasped her hand and dragged her down the steps.
"Did you see Sam? He sent me to check on you."
His false concern crushed my heart, as did my eyes lifting in the direction of Sam's laugh. "Yes."
In a semicircle of acquaintances, Ashley stood next to him. Her head tipped back, and a bright smile spread across her lips. She leaned over, whispered in his ear, and squeezed his arm. "I'm so glad he's recovered!" Ashley exclaimed, hugging one arm around Sam. "Not just because I'd be out of a job!"
Out of a job.
My stomach twisted as the group laughed at her words. I hadn't eaten but nausea threatened to make me dry heave. Two single tears spilled over my cheeks and congestion flooded my nose.
No.
"Mia?" Abby's hand on my elbow brought me back to her worried expression. "What happened?"
"This was a mistake." I squeezed her hand with a bone-crushing grip. "I need to leave. Now. Please."
She nodded without a blink or a question, but Michael's frown stepped into my line of vision. "What's wrong?"
"Who was he with?" A hot, harsh whisper slipped from my dry lips. "The night of Dad's party. The accident. His shoulder. Who did Sam leave with?"
"Mia, I can't..." Michael's words faltered, but his glance back at Sam was the only verification I needed. Simone had joined his group, sandwiching Sam with Ashley in a sickening sight.
I thrust my car keys into Abby's hand. "Get me the fuck out of here."
A hot, stale breeze kissed my skin and crickets chirped their night song. Abby's feet hurried behind me, followed thirty seconds later by Michael's more polite exit. My cheeks warmed under the wet trails my ears left behind. I couldn't put enough distance between me and Sam's house, Sam's guests, and in particular Sam himself.
How could I be so reckless? He unpeeled his banana and my vagina slipped right over it. So fucking stupid, Mia.
Of course, Sam had other ideas than letting me Cinderella flee with my last shreds of dignity. "Mia!?"
My name in his confused voice broke the dam of tears behind the slow rolling trickles. Streams dribbled down my cheeks, tipped over my chin, and blotted my chest. The cars stacked in Sam's driveway blurred into black forms. I sniffed.
"Mia?" Abby's soft call fell on my deaf ears.
"No!" I side-stepped a BMW that exceeded my annual earnings and broke into a run. My vision blurred under tears and my heels wobbled my ankles, but I ignored them both. Step for step, a slow heat burned in my calves and loud clomps thudded from under my feet.
Gigantor's longer legs and snowshoe feet rushed behind me with the sound of a trampling buffalo on my trail. "Mia!" The slip of irritation in his voice hunched my shoulders up. Overly committed to the idea that I could outrun a professional football player in my high heels, I clomped faster.
I got six strides away when my heel hit a cement groove and pitched me forward. Sam's hand caught my elbow. Forward momentum wasn't my friend, but a strong hand splayed into my stomach and caught me. Curling around it, my torso dipped, and my hips bucked up.
"Ugh." I grunted and slacked around his forearm.
He hauled me to halt as if I was weightless and pinned my back into his chest. The same wall of heat that aroused me into a pool of Jell-o now turned my stomach. His touch, the same warm, strong comfort, now disgusted me.
The dim lighting from his garage cast shadows over his eye sockets. Confusion marred his handsome features - fuck, of course now I found him handsome. His eyebrows squeezed together, creasing lines around the inside corners of his eyes. Beneath his dark-haired beard, his jaw ticked. "Why the fuck are you running off?"
I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. Only my eyes worked, and I stared at the yellow glow on his rounded shoulder. It was recovered. He didn't need me anymore, except for... He was a womanizing prick who slept with his staff. I couldn't have picked a worse rebound after Nathan.
Yes, rebound. Bounce away, Mia.
Pain wrenched my stomach and ticked my jaw into a locked position. My teeth lodged together, and my jaw ached. Only my mounting frustration pried them open. "I can't help you!"
He recoiled from my shrill screech. I deserved the pained look that struck his face. "Mia? What?"
"Stay away from me." The hot night air paled compared to the heat simmering under my skin. "This was a mistake."
I made the mistake of looking behind me. The yellow garage light fell on his chiseled features. Concern and confusion battled in his dark eyes.
Sam, being Sam, couldn't leave the conversation at that. Wedging himself under my skin, he turned my shoulders around. Because, of fucking course, he wouldn't let me leave without poking and prodding for an explanation. "Look." The chords in his neck tightened with his hoarse voice. "I get that your ex-boyfriend fucked you up, but that's no reason to project your shit on me. I'm trying-"
My eyes fluttered closed, and I swayed on my feet. I was too open, too exposed. The hairs on my neck raised. Increased blood flow buzzed my veins, tingling the tips of my fingers as I clenched them. "He's not my ex-boyfriend!"
His jaw set harder than cement. "Are you still seeing him."
It wasn't a question. The hardened edge wrapped around every word rendered them into a demand. I curled back the corner of my lip. "Are you still sleeping with them, Sam?"
With double accusations left unanswered, the air thickened between us. It was too thick. If I breathed, then I choked. I never knew how explosive silence could be until now. Red-faced, eyes slanted in narrow slits, nostrils flared - he was a baited bull, and I was the red flag. I kept my chin and eyes lifted.
"Fuck, I thought you were better than assuming shit without asking." His hands dragged over his face and over his chin. "Every time I try to crack through, you deflect or push me away. Do you even like me? You run away every time when I try to make you happy."
Happy.
The single word stole all of mine. I wasn't allowed to be happy but how to explain that escaped me. He couldn't have feelings for me. I would only poison him like Nate.
My dry lips parted but his heated accusations continued, "You don't trust anyone. No wonder your ex-boyfriend-"
"Husband," I muttered then snapped my mouth shut. Taking back the word was impossible, so I turned and conceded a sliver of the awful truth. "He... was my husband."
Too much, Mia. Too, too much.
"Doesn't make a difference." Sam looked at me as if I was certifiably insane. His anger surged forward, curling malice around every word. "No wonder your husband left you."
Abby and Michael's gasps behind Sam offered no comfort. I sucked in a sharp breath that whistled in my windpipe. His correct words struck my chest like a sledgehammer. It exploded into shards of pain, gouging deep into my chest walls. I pricked my thumbs over the closest cuticles.
I deserved this pain, this mistake. Three years ago, love left my life. And I didn't deserve to get it back. My last response was a whisper as broken as I was.
"He did."
Lots to unpack here, sorry for a delay on this chapter but I added 1K words into it while editing. Any theories on the hints about these two dropped here? I promise we'll find out VERY soon about both their pasts, and it won't be the last chapter... even if it feels like it.
Thank you so much for commenting, voting, & adding the story to reading lists. I see and appreciate every notification.