Heaven and Hell (59 page)

He’d never gone to bed without me.

And I’d never gone to bed without him
closely following me.

Then I unpressed my lips when I lifted my
Amaretto to take a drink.

I swallowed and whispered, “Shit,” to the
sea.

Memphis concurred with a quiet,
mini-yap.

Yep. Shit.

* * * * *

I woke up with Sam’s mouth at my neck and
his hand sliding into my panties.

“Sam,” I whispered and his mouth came to
mine.

“No talking,” he rumbled then he made this
so by kissing me, his tongue driving into my mouth hard at the same
time his finger slid inside me.

I wasn’t awake, I wasn’t ready and I
whimpered with surprise mixed with the usual pleasure.

Sam read it, his finger slid out and hit my
clit, pressing, rolling, my whimper this time was again surprised
but now there was far more pleasure. My hips rose up into his hand
as his tongue kept driving into my mouth.

Then his lips released mine and his torso
twisted. My panties were torn down my legs and Sam rolled, his arm
hooking me, taking me with him.

I didn’t know what was happening, I still
wasn’t awake but I was turned on.

Then I was turned on more when Sam laid
back, pulling me up, yanking me over him and maneuvering me to
straddling his head.

Then his hands at my hips tugged me down and
he was eating me.

My head fell back and my fingers searched
for the headboard to hold on.

He was hungry,
ravenous.
God, he’d
never done it like that before, not only in this position but also
him being so damn hungry. His hands clenched at my hips, wrenching
me down, grinding me into his mouth and tongue.

Oh God. God!

Before I knew it was coming, it came. My
head jerking back again, I cried out as it seared through me.

But Sam kept pulling me down, crushing me to
his mouth, taking.

Beautiful.

Sublime.

I moaned, whimpered, panted, held the
headboard in a death grip feeling it, all of it, loving it and then
orgasm number two soared through me.

Sam pushed me off before I was done and I
tried to catch my breath, catch a thought but found myself on my
knees with Sam on his knees behind me, his arms around me. His hand
went back between my legs, torture, God, such beautiful torture. I
was so sensitive my hips jerked and his other hand plunged up my
nightie, his fingers curling around my breast, his thumb rolling my
nipple.

“Sam, honey, too much,” I protested but my
hips made my words a lie, rolling, pressing, seeking. I wanted it,
wanted him, wanted more.

Sam’s teeth nipped the skin behind my ear
and he growled, “No talking.”

“Sam –”

His hand between my legs slid away, his arm
clamped around my waist, his other hand curled tight at my breast,
I felt him move, adjust then drive up inside me, straight to the
root, filling me.

My head again flew back, colliding with his
shoulder.

“No… fucking…
talking,
” he commanded,
deep and low in my ear.

Then his arms left me, one hand went to the
middle of my back, pushing me down so I was chest to mattress. Both
his hands went to my hips, fingers digging deep, he pulled me
sharply back to meet his thrusts, pushing me forward, pulling back,
slamming into me, slamming me into him.

Oh God. It was
awesome.
It was
hot.
And it was going to happen again.

Before it could, he pulled out. I moaned my
discontent but he didn’t make me wait. He jerked me up, shifted me
to facing him and turned us, moving up the bed. My back hit
headboard, his hands wrapped my legs around his hips, my arms slid
around his shoulders and his mouth slammed down on mine as his cock
plunged into me.

Again and again and then he drove deep,
grinding hard and groaned in my mouth as my limbs got tight, my
third orgasm swept through me and I moaned into his.

I recovered slowly listening to Sam doing
the same, feeling his breaths steadying against my lips, keeping
him held close to me, held tight.

Then, even though I didn’t say a word, he
ordered, “Do not speak.”

My heart started beating faster again.

He didn’t glide; he didn’t take me gently
after he took me hard. He stayed buried and his lips didn’t leave
mine as I stared into his shadowy eyes which were staring back at
me.

“Burned in my brain,” he growled and I
swallowed, keeping him held tight to me. “You in those sandals,
that dress, sittin’ across from me, tryin’ to pretend I wasn’t
there.”

At his words, emotion soared through me, a
lot, too much. It felt my skin couldn’t contain it and my limbs
spasmed around him.

Sam wasn’t done.

“Seein’ you sittin’ alone that night after
dinner, so beautiful, so fuckin’ beautiful, speakin’ to you only
for you to turn and face me and see you had tears in your eyes.
Those tears,
Christ,
” he bit off the last word on a snarl.
“Never in my life… never felt that. I didn’t fuckin’ know you and
seein’ those tears in your eyes fucking undid me.”

Oh my God!

“Sam –” I whispered and his hips ground into
mine.

“Do not speak, Kia.”

I closed my mouth.

“Burned in my brain,” he muttered.

God. What was happening?

“You opening the door to me wearin’ that
white dress. You in my arms tellin’ me about your girl with her
cardboard cutout. You lyin’ beside me tellin’ me about your Mom
makin’ birthdays special. You on the boat, the wind in your hair.
You at the table, your head in your hand, your eyes on me. You
driving down on my cock after I set you on fire.”

He remembered everything. Everything about
me. Every moment. Every word.

God,
God
what was happening?

His arms around me got so tight it was
difficult to breathe even as he threatened to tear apart my heart
saying, “Should have let you have your breakfast pretending to
ignore me.”

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t right.
Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Sam kept speaking. “I didn’t and now you’re
mine, Kia.
Mine,
” he declared on another powerful arm
squeeze that forced the breath right out of me.

Then suddenly his voice gentled but there
was an edge to it that made my heart clutch. A hopelessness. A
melancholy.

“Burn us into your brain, baby. Every
second, every breath, burn us into your brain.”

I tried again, “Honey –”

That was all I got out before one of his
hands drove into my hair, fisted and he rumbled, “No, Kia. Say
nothing except to promise me.”

“We need to –”

His entire, massive body pressed mine into
the headboard and he growled fiercely, “
Promise me.
”

I stared into his face in the dark, my heart
beating, my lungs burning, my stomach hurting and I was lost.
Clueless. I didn’t know what to do. What just happened, all he
said, he was in the grip of something fierce and ugly and I didn’t
know how to beat it back or let him know I was at his side to help
him fight it.

So I took the only option available to
me.

One of my hands slid up his neck to cup the
back of his head and my lips brushed his before I left them there
and whispered, “I promise you, baby.”

His arms got tight again then his mouth
moved down my cheek and he pressed his face in my neck and held me.
Even when he pulled out, he kept his face in my neck, my body
pressed against the headboard and he kept holding me.

I held him back then finally, I turned my
head and in his ear I whispered, “I need to go clean up.”

“No.” His head came up. “Tonight, you keep
all of me with you. You don’t wash any of me away.”

“Okay,” I said instantly even as his words
tore at my heart.

Then he pulled me from the headboard,
shifting us so we were in our usual positions, Sam on his back, me
tucked close to his side, cheek to his shoulder. But this time, his
other hand crossed his chest and his fingers drifted through my
hair and back and again and again.

I tangled my legs with his and pressed
closer.

Then I turned my face to his shoulder,
kissed his silken skin and whispered there, “I love you,
honey.”

His hand settled on cheek a moment before it
went away and he muttered in a normal Sam tone, “Good.”

I let out my breath, turned my head and laid
my cheek back on his shoulder.

Sam’s arm got tighter.

He fell asleep way before me.

Hours later, I woke up alone.

Listen to Your Heart

One month later…

I was standing at the basin in the bathroom,
brushing my teeth when Sam walked in wearing running clothes. That
was to say loose shorts, a loose shirt with the sleeves cut off and
running shoes.

He walked behind me, stopped, kissed my
shoulder then found my eyes in the mirror.

“Gonna run. Be back before your folks hit
the road.”

I nodded, still brushing.

He held my eyes.

I tried not to hold my breath.

Then he shocked me when he suddenly
whispered, “Love me?”

It took everything I had not to fall to my
knees.

As usual, he’d figured me out. He knew I was
struggling.

He knew.

I triumphed, pulled the brush out of my
mouth and answered, “Yes.”

He closed his eyes but I knew he tried to
hide it because his arm went around my belly, his face quickly
disappeared in my neck and against the skin there, he muttered,
“Good.”

What he did not do was tell me he loved
me.

He never told me he loved me.

Never.

His arm gave me a squeeze, he let me go and
walked out of the bathroom.

When I lost sight of him, my hand shot out
to curl around the basin. I dropped my head and closed my eyes.
Then I held on tight and I held on a long time.

Then, when I felt I could do it, I lifted my
head, slid the brush into my mouth and resumed brushing.

* * * * *

The day of Luci’s breakthrough everything
changed between Sam and me.

None of it… not one thing… was good.

At first, I almost didn’t notice. It was
just a niggle. But I put that down to his weird mood when he got
back from Luci’s and the episode when he woke me up in the middle
of the night, made love to me then forced that promise.

It was easy not to notice but I had to
admit, I was kind of in denial. Still, Luci was getting her house
ready for the market, Celeste was still there and Luci was still
processing, talking, working things through.

We also had a short visit from a man called
Joe “Cal” Callahan, Sam’s security specialist. Like Tanner Layne
and Lee Nightingale, Joe Callahan was tall, dark, built and
unbelievably gorgeous. He also had a scar on his face that marred
his perfect male beauty in a way that was
hot
but also made
him more than a little bit scary. But in the short time he was
there, although gruff and mostly monosyllabic, he smiled a lot
which made him a bit less scary. He also openly took a phone call
from his woman which became a call where he also spoke to his
woman’s two daughters during which his face got soft, he smiled
even more and he laughed often.

This made him not scary at all.

That was until he traced how my hit man
breached his system. This clearly pissed him off. Definitely a man
who took his business seriously, had built a reputation and was not
fond of that taking a hit. He did not need to make adjustments
considering how the hit man breached his system included the hit
man bribing someone at the electric company.

Cal visited this unfortunate electric
company employee then returned, announcing firmly, “Situation
neutralized.”

He gave no further information.

Sam nodded. I shivered.

Needless to say, all of the above took a lot
of attention.

But also during it I noticed that Sam’s runs
were longer and his stays at the gym were too.

And I further noticed a couple of times when
Sam would tell me he had to go meet “a buddy” or had “something to
do”. He didn’t tell me who the buddy was or what he had to do. He’d
just go, come back and, like the day after the night of my promise,
pretend it didn’t happen.

I let this slide and practiced patience,
listened to Luci, spent time with Celeste and hoped.

I also kept true to my mission. I didn’t
shower Sam with attention or change anything about me. I gave him
me openly and steadily.

But I told him I loved him often. Not
ridiculous amounts but enough.

He never said he loved me back. He liked it,
I knew, he made that clear.

But his response was always, “Good.”

Then Celeste was gone, Luci’s house was on
the market and she started to prepare for the big move. I helped.
Sam helped.

But Sam’s runs kept running long, his
workouts kept getting longer and the times he had to see to
something or help out a buddy, none of these ever explained,
increased in frequency.

I thought about it and decided to stop
letting it slide.

If he had to see to something, I asked
what.

Sam would say, “Not a big deal, baby. Won’t
be long.”

Then he’d kiss me and he’d be gone.

Then if he had to help out a buddy, I’d ask
who.

And Sam would say, “You don’t know him,
honey. We’re not tight but he’s called a marker. I’ll be back
soon.”

Then he’d kiss me and he’d be gone.

One could not say I had an enormous amount
of experience with healthy relationships.

That said, I knew this was simply not
right.

But it was worse. He was still Sam,
gentlemanly, affectionate, attentive, but something was there,
something was on his mind or there was something between us. I
didn’t get it, couldn’t put my finger on it. The only thing I knew,
Sam wouldn’t share.