Page 73 of Takeover-
“He didn’t use those words, but the meaning was clear.” Sam’s leg seemed to vibrate. “And there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” A flush crept up Sam’s neck and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
Sparks traced through Michael’s limbs at the sight of Sam’s anxiety. He couldn’t tell if this was good news or bad news. “Shall we go grab something to eat? Or find somewhere private… ?”
“Both. But privacy first.” A faint smile touched Sam’s face.
Not bad news, judging by that expression. The tingling surged down into Michael’s balls and his cock shifted. He stood, so close that he towered over Sam. “My room, then?”
Sam tilted his head back to meet Michael’s gaze. “Yes.” His response was breathy. Then he grinned.
Maybe they could skip lunch. There wasn’t a presentation Michael wanted to see until two. He gave Sam a nudge with his shoulder. “Elevator.”
Sadly, they shared most of the ride up with an older couple obviously in New Orleans for sightseeing or Michael would have done far more than stick his hands in Sam’s pockets and watch the flush on his neck grow. That changed, the instant the door to Michael’s room clicked shut behind him. He caught Sam and pulled him backward, pushing his erection into Sam’s crack. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
Sam groaned and pressed against Michael. His words came out as a gasp. “I’m in love with you.”
Those words set every inch of Michael’s skin aflame. He kissed the back of Sam’s neck and rocked his cock against Sam’s ass. “Say that again.” He needed to hear it once more, just to be sure.
“Oh fuck.” Sam twisted in Michael’s arms, increasing the friction between them. “I’m in love with you, Michael.”
He loosened his hold on Sam and turned him around.
Sam shook with need, the flush now coloring his cheeks. His lips were parted. “I love you.” There was no hesitation in his expression, only open honesty.
Michael brushed his thumb against Sam’s lips, his fingers trembling. “I love you, too.”
“Do you?” Sam’s smile was dazzling. “Well, good.”
“Why the hell do you think I want to be with you? See if we can make this work?” Michael tugged at the knot of Sam’s tie, loosening it. He kissed Sam’s neck. “It’s not just your sense of style, you know.”
Sam’s voice was deep and full of gravel. “Well, thank goodness for that.” Sam cupped the front of Michael’s pants, and massaged the length he found there. “I wouldn’t want to think you love me just for my taste in suits.”
It was Michael’s turn to moan. “If you keep that up, lunch won’t happen.” Nor much in the afternoon, either.
Sam opened a little space between them. “You’re right. And lunch would be normal. A date, even.”
Even though Michael’s dick ached, he nodded. Very normal. Something a couple would do. “I suppose we could turn in early instead.” If he had to wait all day for Sam, he was going to spend all night making Sam thrash and moan.
Sam reached up and pulled Michael’s head down for a kiss. Not a burning or hard one—a taste of lips and tongue that was too short. “You have more tricks in that bag of yours?”
That didn’t help the state of Michael’s cock at all. “Just you wait and see.” He had more than enough toys to keep Sam just like he enjoyed him—breathless and shaking.
“Promise?”
“Yes.” For as long as Sam wanted and needed. “You sure about lunch?”
It was Sam’s stomach that responded, growling loudly. “Sorry,” Sam said. “I guess crises make me hungry.”
“I meant going out with me. In public. Together.”
Sam hesitated, but his smile didn’t falter—just softened. As did his voice. “I’ve wanted to bemefor so long. I should have told my colleagues to go fuck themselves years ago. Yes, I’m sure.”
Michael took Sam’s hand and pulled him toward the door. “Then let’s go.”
“I bet the concierge can recommend a place with authentic Cajun cuisine,” Sam said. “And maybe something French for dinner.”
He’d like that, except there were other considerations. “I’m still here to work, Sam. I should probably network. Go to dinner with Sundra folks.” They headed back toward the elevator.
Sam shrugged. “Invite them. Greta, too. I’d rather that than some lame strip joint.” He paused. “But lunch is for us.” He pressed the down button.
