Page 63 of And Then Came You

“Let’s go,” Sam grunts, and I watch him walk across the room with Mike, wondering if I committed the ultimate faux pas by letting the man I want go frolic with half-clothed beauties. Beauties who made it very clear how much I don’t belong in their world.

* * *

Mike is a liar. It’s been almost an hour and Sam is still posing for photographs, although I can tell by the forced smile he’s about had it with charitable giving.

Poor man, such is the price of beauty.

My biggest concern isn’t the half-naked women hanging on him, their hands stroking along his chest as their bodies press against him—although I’m sure as hell not enjoying that view. It’s the copious amounts of alcohol that Sam has imbibed in the last sixty minutes.

He’s not a heavy drinker, and I’ve watched at least five shots slide down his throat, poured by fans eager to get their favorite eye candy tipsy. At this rate, they’ll be lucky if the models can stand upright for much longer.

I shift my weight, my feet screaming about their unethical treatment, being squeezed into stilettos when they’re far happier in flats. I’m tired, a minor headache is brewing from the champagne, and if I’m honest, a bit bored watching models preen.

To be blunt, watching their perfectly formed bodies rubbing against Sam’s only heightens my own shortcomings. Namely, the curves I’m none too sure are sexy, no matter what Sam claims.

Models are stick thin for a reason, and men drool all over them. So, no matter what menclaim, I’ve never seen a model hard up for a date. Us regular chicks? The ones with tits and an ass and a bit of jiggle? We have a much harder time.

Stop it, Lexi. He thinks you’re beautiful, and you’re hardly tipping the scales. Just breathe.

I catch Sam’s eye, pointing at the ceiling and making a sleep gesture. With a wave, I turn on my heel, desperate for my slippers.

I don’t make it out the door when Sam grasps my elbow. “You can’t leave, E.T. I still have a few more shots.”

I half walk, half limp to the closest wall and slip off my heels. “My feet are killing me, Sam. I just want to sink into a bubble bath and then my pajamas. Leave being beautiful to you.”

“I have a better idea. Go take your bubble bath, and as soon as I’m done, I’ll join you. Just don’t put on any pajamas. I want to see all of you when I arrive.”

My heart races at Sam’s statement. It’s ironic. An hour ago, it was all systems go. But now, the harsh lights of reality shine on the situation, along with the sneaking suspicion that Sam is drunk.

My greatest fear is that we’ll sleep together whilst he’s under the influence, only to have him regret it immediately the next morning. It took me weeks to recover from the Montauk incident. I’d never recover if I gave myself to him, only to have him wish it was someone else.

“Stop thinking, Lexi. I want to be with you. I want to touch you.” He clears his throat, rubbing his brow.

“Sam, how drunk are you? Maybe you should get some water.”

He grimaces at my question. “I’m not drunk, Lexi. Promise. The lights are getting to me.”

I’m not entirely convinced, and he knows it. “Sure it isn’t the tequila?”

“I’ll drink some water. I’m almost done. Let me get back and then I’ll be upstairs before you know it.”

Forcing a smile, I nod, my mind distracted by the course of events. This whole second fiddle to Sam’s lifestyle is getting old, and I’m not even dating the man. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey.” Sam rests one arm on either side of my head, caging me in as his mouth seizes mine, the taste of tequila on his tongue.

I want to resist him, play hard to get, but let’s get real. The man is the sexiest package I’ve ever seen, and I’ve yet to see his package. I want that opportunity.

“Lexi, I can’t wait to be upstairs with you,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down my neck. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Those words, coupled with the feel of his mouth on my body, damn near sends me over the edge. “You’d better hurry, then. Don’t want to keep me waiting.”

“I’ll make it up to you. We have the rest of the night… and all day tomorrow. I’m not letting you leave that bed.” With a final nip to my neck, he backs away, those emerald eyes flashing all manner of promises.

“We’ll see,” I murmur as I head for my room.

* * *

An hour later, I’m still alone, and the bubble bath has been cold for ages. I’m trying really hard to keep my wits about me and not let my mind wander down dark avenues.

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