Full Throttle (19 page)

Josh sighed and sat next to her on the bed, the soft
mattress giving under him, making Sammy fall closer to him.

“I’m sorry.” Josh muttered
,
shocked by how much he meant it. He’d been an ass. He knew that Sammy wasn’t
the one-night-stand kind of girl. He had known that all along. Yet he allowed
himself to think, like a fucking desperate case, that he could offer her more
than that. He should have gone with his first instinct and backed off. She was
too good for him to sully. Yet, sully her he had. She was still recovering from
a bike accident, for Christ’s sake.

Josh ground his teeth, rested his elbows on his
knees, and shook his head.
I bet posh-boy
wouldn’t have treated her so callously.

“Don’t
apologize
Josh.”
Sammy replied softly next to him.

Her gentle touch fell on his back and Josh,
shamelessly allowed her to keep her hands on him. He tipped his head sideways
and
huffed
a decidedly non-humorous sound.

“I asked for what we did.” Sammy shrugged,
delicately avoiding using any crude words to describe their sex games, and Josh
felt his pulse quicken at her innocent response. It shocked him how much her
shyness affected him. It called to him, yanked at his attention, dragging a
feeling from him Josh had never felt before.
Protectiveness.

“That’s not the point.” He huffed. “You’re
recovering from an accident.
A fucking nasty one.
And
all I could think about was bedding you.”

Aggravation tore at his temper until he had to stand
up. He paced away and turned back to Sammy ready to swear loudly, ready to drop
to his knees to ask for her respect, but what he saw when he turned back around
made his words stall on his tongue. Sammy sat on the edge of the bed, her hand
gripping the edges of the towel together and she had a big smile on her
beautiful face.

“
All
you
could think about?” She asked. Her voice was full of humor and her eyes danced
playfully.

Josh stopped and scowled.

And for some reason, Sammy’s smile grew wider before
she dropped her gaze as if suddenly realizing how long she’d looked up at him.

Josh sighed and his agitation melted away slightly
at the sight of her drooping shoulders. He had to stop scowling at her. Sammy
tugged her towel tighter around herself, as if reinforcing her barrier against
him.

She lifted her gaze and shrugged. “I didn’t hate
what we did, Josh. I kind of ... actually, I really liked that.”

Josh stilled when Sammy tilted her head to the side.
She blushed deeply and swallowed hard. Her eyes shone with honestly and truth, the
very first thing he noticed about her, and he buckled inside like fast-heated
metal, the steel core of his every idea bending and folding under Sammy’s
perfect gaze.

God, he had been a prick to think he could walk away
from this—from her. If he hadn’t admitted to the faint unraveling of his
control and pride when he’d been buried deep inside her, he definitely did now,
when she looked so utterly beautiful sitting on the edge of her bed, her towel
scrunched tightly in her hand and her hair hanging in wet strands over her
slender shoulders.

Beautiful.

Add that to the relief-filled knowledge that she turned
down posh-boy, and Josh knew he was in deeper than just a fling

“What do you hate, then?” he asked.

And just like that, Josh decided he had to know more
about her. Not half an hour ago, he made the decision to walk away from her
life, to go back to his old life and pretend he hadn’t met, or fucked Sammy.

Not half an hour ago, he had been resolved in the
knowledge that Sammy was too good for him. Did that mean posh-boy deserved her?
Did money and “mummy and daddy” mean posh-boy was a better fit for Sammy?

Josh couldn’t see it. The bloke on the answer
machine referred to her bike riding as her having a wild streak. Josh had seen
Sammy on her bike—watched her raptly, actually—and he saw firsthand that Sammy
was a true biker. She was born to be on a motorbike. It wasn’t a wild streak
phase .
It was Sammy. She
is
a biker.

Josh knew he was selfish. All his life he’d been
accused of
it,
and now as he stared down at Sammy, beautiful,
honest, innocent Sammy, he realized he was going to be more selfish than he had
in all his life. He was going to make Sammy his. Fuck what anyone thought. Fuck
trying to be the better man. Fuck posh-boy asking for a sedate date with her at
some swanky restaurant. He saw the passion in Sammy’s eyes. Shit! He’d sampled
her lusty desires, and there was no way he would walk away so Giles could tame
her and make her just like his mummy.

Decided, and strangely relieved, Josh dropped down
next to her on the bed and this time, he looped his arm over her shoulder.

Sammy looked up into his expression and
smiled,
a sad, rejected smile. She looked like a woman who
knew she was just being cajoled and Josh frowned, stunned by how pissed off he
was at himself for putting that look on her face.

He had fucked her and left just minutes after. He
was a dick. Well, no more.

“You don’t have to sit here and chat with me, Josh.
I can wait for Rachel to have a proper girly chat with.” Sammy turned her head
and tried to move away, but Josh tightened his hold on her shoulder and waited
for her to look back at him. When she did, he almost growled at the taunted
humiliation in her gaze.
The look of resignation, as if Sammy
knew rejection often.

“I want to know.” Josh reached up with his spare
hand and stroked his fingers across her jaw.

Sammy swallowed hard, and Josh watched her eyes flick
open with surprise.

“I want to know what
has
you angered.” Josh tipped his mouth into a slight smile and continued. “Because
I don’t think it’s easy to anger you. Am I right?”

Sammy blinked and then nodded. “I am a bit of a
pushover.” Seeing the way she accepted this flaw as her own made Josh seriously
angry. Sammy was forever putting
herself
down. She
flushed if she spoke her
mind,
as if she’d been told
her opinion didn’t matter. She dipped her gaze as confidence fled her when she
was bold. Sammy was intelligent, kind and beautiful. A woman like that should
ooze assurance, and it seemed Sammy had none.

“Why do you think that?” he asked, wanting to hear
more, see more of what she hid in her shy soul.

Sammy shrugged under his arm and turned her head, watching
her hands as they twisted in her lap.

Josh thought she retreated into her own mind and forgot
his question. He was just about to jog her when she began to speak.

“I was brought up to stay in the shadows. Never talk
unless expressly asked, and even then, I had to check for my father’s
approval.” Sammy glanced up and Josh saw her cheeks flooded with color and her
eyes filled with water.

Her words caused an uncomfortable ache in his chest,
and Josh instinctively stroked her arm as she took a few deep breaths. When his
mind filled with foul words, he clamped his mouth shut, feeling it to be imperative
that Sammy be allowed to continue. He would bet his shy Sam hadn’t confided in
too many people.

When Sammy briefly caught his eye contact, alarm
flared within her stare. “Don’t get me wrong, Josh, I was safe. I didn’t have a
terrible childhood, nothing sinister. I was just brought up very strictly. My
father treated me like a business deal. “Sammy grinned wryly and raised her
brows briefly. “My father was a hell of a business man.”

“Go on.” Josh sensed that his expression had made
Sammy back off from more details. But, damn it, if she was going to be his,
then he wanted to know all. All he could think, though, was what a dick her
father sounded.

Again, Josh clamped his mouth shut.

Sammy shrugged again.
“Well,
nothing, really.
Just that, when they died, I promised myself to step
out of the shadows and live a little. That’s why I got my bike.” Sammy glanced up
then, and Josh noticed a small ounce of pride. Sammy liked her bike.

Josh liked Sammy
on
her bike.

“So you’re rebelling?” he asked, smile on his tone.

Sammy laughed gently and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose I
am. Maybe a few years later than most people, but better late than never,
right?”

He tucked a stray lock of hair behind Sammy’s ear
and she glanced up into his gaze. He was floored by the tension that snapped
between them as their gazes locked. His body reacted to her stare almost
violently, and it took all his strength to maintain control of his thoughts.
Ideas of kissing her, tasting her, and pushing her back onto the mattress
swirled within his mind. Sammy broke the contact first. She looked back down to
her hands, where she picked frantically at her thumbnail.

Josh covered her hand with his. Dark, tanned skin
clashed with her pale, soft hands and he was struck by the vivid image of
female versus male. He cleared his throat. “You don’t need to rebel to live,
Sammy.” Josh finally knew the truth in his words.
Words
spoken from past pain, past mistakes, mistakes that haunt him to this day.
“Leave being a rebel to those who have no respect for themselves.”
Again, words spoken from experience.
Images of cowering
under his father’s strong fist flashed inside his mind and Josh blinked slowly.
Thoughts of finally raising his fist against his Dad rose, but Josh ruthlessly
shoved the memories back, they had no place here.

Sammy shrugged and breathed in deeply. “I’m not really
rebelling, Josh. I’m trying to be who I feel I am. The person I have always
been, but held back for fear of disappointing my dad.” Sammy looked up then and
he saw self-mocking in her gaze. “He would be very disappointed in me right now.”
Her mouth tipped into a half grin and he raised his brows.

Dick-head
should be proud.

“So what is it that you hate, then? If you are
living how you always wanted to?” Josh asked, bringing them back to what Sammy
had said a few moments ago.

Sammy lifted her cast, making Josh glance at it,
then
she wiggled her toes and sighed. “I hate being dependent
on somebody. This—” She wiggled her cast foot again. “I hate this. It makes me
feel like I failed at being the person I always wanted to be.”

Brave,
strong Sammy.

Josh tugged her closer and kissed the top of her
head. He breathed her freshly washed hair and glanced at her cast. “Yeah, you
gotta’ sort out that late-breaking problem.”

Sammy gasped and gently backhanded him in the ribs.
He feigned pain and grunted, causing Sammy to laugh. The tension built by the
heavy conversation evaporated just like that.

Josh put his hand under her chin and made her look
up. When her green gaze clashed with his, he could barely
breath
past the rush of need.

“I want to apologize.” His mouth dried when her eyes
dimmed a little, but he wasn’t going to be put off. When she tried to sit up
and move away, Josh held her and shook his head. “Earlier, I was a dick.”

“No, Josh, please don’t. You don’t have to.”

She looked
so
uncomfortable
as she blushed that he almost let her go, but he was determined to wipe that
hurt from her eyes.
Determined to let her know that he wasn’t
going to treat her like that again.
“Listen.”

Sammy sighed and nodded, but her demeanor was still
stiff, still guarded.
Still clearly expecting rejection.

“You’re not the only one with issues, Sam.”
Fucking understatement.
“And I am not the first one of us to have noticed the differences between us, between
our lives.”

He wanted to say more but Sammy sat up straight. She
tugged the towel tighter around her body and cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Look, I get it, Josh. You’re the kind of man that
can have any woman. I am not the typical one-night-stand kind of woman.” She
shrugged and the action seemed aggressive, even on Sammy.

Josh frowned and watched her as she edged further
away on the bed.

“But just because I come across as weak and
pathetic, I am not, okay?”

She raised both her brows at him, and Josh nodded,
feeling a little like he had missed the point.

“I never said you were weak, or pathetic.” He frowned.
“But Sammy—” he began, but she put up her hand and shook her head.

“I don’t need you patting my back and looking at me
with sympathy. I decided on this…” She flapped her hand towards him and paused
as if searching for the right words.
“One-morning-stand.”
She finished, and Josh couldn’t help but grin at her choice of words. She
hadn’t used the words fuck, or shag, or even sex for what they had done, like
any other person would have. Sammy found a way of making it sound innocent, and
not at all dirty, which is right, it didn’t feel dirty—it felt nice, good.

He let her continue because she was so damn cute
when she got all flappy.