Page 102 of And Then Came You

“Pardon?”

“At the auction.”

“I can’t afford you.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

Holy hell, he’s serious. “Why do you want me to buy you?”

“I don’t want any other woman to have me.”

I circle my fingers in his belt loop, pulling him close. “I like the sound of that.”

“You know what sound I like?”

“What?”

Sam bites his lip, his hand wrapping around my ponytail. “Your moans when I’m making you come. I could listen to that all night.”

“I could let you. I wonder what sounds you’ll make for me.” My lips graze his as I wind my fingers in his hair, wrecking it all to hell.

This whole friends with benefits gig? It has some major perks. For the moment, I’ll ignore the fact that I’m madly in love with the man and relish the memory of his head between my legs.

Chapter Eighteen

Lexi

Ihave to hand it to Sam, he sure knows how to generate a buzz. The man of the hour hasn’t even arrived yet, but he’s all the women can talk about.

It’s driving me insane.

He’s been a doll this past week, calling me every evening even though I know he’s working like a dog on this shoot. Hey, even Samuel Bernard has to sing for his supper.

“Do you hear them?” Ramona inquires, raising her brow at me. She knows that Sam and I are close, although she has no ideahowclose we now are. “They say men are bad, but women are a million times worse.”

“I know. They talk about him like he’s a piece of meat. Hell, remember when Sam and I met? It bothered me then, how they referred to him. Now? It infuriates me. He’s so much more than a pretty face.”

“You’re lucky. You get to know Sam on a level few people do. None of these women can claim that.”

She’s right, and I cling to that concept. Otherwise, I’d be going to jail for knocking out some uncivilized bitches.

“I’ve heard a few women claim to have cleared out their bank accounts, just for a chance to spend the evening with him. Apparently, they’re of the belief that they’re also entitled to a quick fuck, or so that’s the claim.”

My eyes widen at my assistant. “It’s for a date. He’s not planning on screwing the winner.” But although I say the words, I’m not entirely certainwhathis intentions are regarding the auction. He claimed to have signed up months ago, before we met, so he couldn’t have known that the two of us would be… whatever the hell we are now.

I’m not a jealous woman, namely because I’ve realized that jealousy doesn’t get me anywhere, except for a smack or two for daring to question my former lovers. But the idea of Sam sleeping with another woman while I’m under the same roof? That’s a bit more than I can stomach at this point. Hell, I haven’t slept with him, yet.

Although the memory of him touching me, his tongue caressing me, damn near makes me swoon.

Our nightly chats are fun and flirty, with one conversation centering on my tits. My magnificent tits, as Sam labeled them. But I’d be a fool to read into his ministrations as anything more than harmless banter.

In fact, I half expect Sam to show up this weekend with a new beauty tucked under his arm, our afternoon of play relegated to the memory box.

I’m not insinuating that Sam is a heartless asshole. Far from. But, despite his recent claims that he’s ready to slow down and settle down, I’m not sure that idea will stick once he’s surrounded by gorgeous and eager women.

Still, and I’ll barely admit this to myself, I dream about Sam. All the time. And it’s not just sexual escapades, although those are high on my list. I imagine a life with him by my side—as a husband and father.

Like I told Sam last week, a girl can dream.

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