His Dream Role (6 page)

She went to the door and paid the delivery guy. When she turned, Free was right behind her.

“I would've paid for dinner.”

“No big deal. You can get it next time.” The words slipped easily from her mouth. Although they'd only been on one date, she felt a connection to him. They hadn't had a serious conversation about exclusivity, but ever since their date, she hadn't thought about anyone else.

She handed the bag to Free. “If you take this to the living room, I'll get us some pop to drink. Sorry, I don't have anything else, unless you want water.”

“Pop is good.”

She took two cans from the fridge and grabbed some silverware and napkins. By the time she got back to the couch, he had the food spread out on the table, chopsticks waiting. It was all very comfy and cozy. And so different from what she'd had with her previous boyfriends. Wait until she told Jess about this.

They sat on the floor and ate out of the cartons, sharing food and chopsticks. She couldn't quite figure Free out. He'd been pretty hot in the elevator and at the door, but now that they were alone and sitting on the floor eating Chinese food, he didn't flirt or attempt to touch her in any way. He treated her like she was nothing more than a friend. He told her hilarious stories that had her crying with laughter.

Looked like it would be up to her to move things along. She scooted closer to him until her leg brushed his. “So. How do you feel about sleepovers?”

His eyes widened and he choked on his noodles. He continued choking, and Sam took the carton from him and set it on the table. His eyes started to water and he raised his hands high.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, but coughed some more. He reached for his can of pop and took a gulp. He inhaled slowly, coughing a little more. He slapped his chest and laughed.

“Sorry about that,” Sam said with a smile. “I kind of thought that's where we were headed.”

“No. I mean, don't worry about it. And yeah, I was hoping we were headed there, too. You just took me by surprise.”

She pressed closer, her boobs pushing against his arm, and ran her fingers through his damp hair. “Does that mean you prefer to take the lead with a girl?”

“No. I'm totally comfortable with you in charge. I wasn't expecting it.”

“Good,” she whispered and licked the shell of his ear.

A shaky breath eased from his mouth.

Sam twisted and straddled him, squeezing between him and the table. It was a tight fit and she liked the way their bodies notched together. She leaned over and kissed him. The heat between them lay thick with need.

Free surged up, which caused her back to crash into the table. She winced.

“Shit. Sorry.” He bent his leg and gave the table a kick, but it didn't budge. He released his grip on her and shoved the edge. It barely moved. “So much for my manly strength.”

She laughed and kissed him again. “It's the carpet. The legs dig in and it's tough to move.”

“You don't have to stroke my ego.”

“I can think of better things to stroke.”

He groaned and pulled her hips closer. His hard-on pressed against her. Her clit throbbed in response.

“Let's go to my bedroom.”

“Wait.” His fingers tightened on her hips. “I don't have a condom. I'm not one of those guys who walks around expecting to get laid.”

Her smile was so wide, her cheeks stretched. “You knew you were coming to my apartment, right? And you still didn't expect to get laid?”

“I tend to keep my expectations low.”

Oh man, did she like this guy. “It's okay. I have some in my room.”

“Thank God.”

She eased off him and stood. When he joined her, he took her hand and she led him to the bedroom. He stood next to her bed as if he was unsure of his next move. She tugged at the hem of his shirt. Sliding it slowly up, she took note of the slim line of hair on his belly leading into his jeans. It was one of those things that never failed to turn her on. She pulled the shirt over his head.

The movement seemed to spur him into action. He pulled her blouse from her pants and started to unbutton it. His fingers fumbled on the first two. He sighed and closed his eyes.

She covered his hands. “Let me.”

Taking her blouse and pants off took no time at all. She reached around to unclasp her bra. Free's hands stilled her. “No.”

“What?”

“I just want to look a minute. You're breathtaking.”

Her skin warmed everywhere by both the compliment and his hot gaze.

He cupped her jaw and kissed her again, aligning his body with hers. The denim of his jeans rasped against her bare thighs, causing an enticing friction. While he trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck and across her collar, she reached between them and unbuttoned his jeans.

Free nudged her bra strap aside and kissed his way down to her boob. As his mouth greedily latched on to her nipple, she slid her hand into his jeans and allowed her cool fingers to stroke his hot flesh.

He growled with her nipple in his mouth and sucked a little harder. She gasped, but when he tried to pull away, she held his head in place. “More,” she added, in case he didn't understand that her gasp was good.

He turned them so he could push her gently down on the bed. For a moment, they separated. She scooted across the bed to make room for him as he shucked his jeans and underwear. His dick was hard and bobbed as he moved onto the bed.

She spread her thighs. He nestled between them, the thin barrier of her silk panties almost unbearable. He tugged the cup off her still-covered breast and focused his attention on that nipple. Sam's hips wiggled. She needed more.

With Free on top of her, there was little room, but she slid her hand between them and wrapped her fingers around his dick and stroked. He lifted his hips a little to give her more room. He was smooth and hard and hot.

She had just gotten started and he pulled out of her reach. His mouth returned to hers and his hand slid into her panties. He stroked her already-slick folds. She rode his hand and the tension built. “I'm close, Free. Get a condom.”

“Where?” His voice was low and scratchy and incredibly sexy.

“Bedside drawer.”

He lifted off her and went into the drawer. When she heard the wrapper being opened, she shimmied out of her panties and got rid of her bra.

Free returned and settled between her thighs. She felt the head of his dick prod her opening. Still cautious and hesitant.

She lifted her hips, causing him to enter. As soon as he inched in, he sank deeper with a groan. He started to move and she hooked her calves around his hips. He tilted and swiveled, and like a homing device, he managed to hit the right spot.

Sam threw her head back and dug her nails into his shoulders. Her heels pressed him closer. He buried his face in her neck. Everything pulsed. She held on to Free as she rode out her orgasm.

As she came down from her high, he stiffened and his muscles flexed. The world felt like it stopped spinning. Time ceased to exist for one glorious moment. They didn't need to breathe or move. They could just be.

It was the one moment during sex that Sam loved the most, more than the stars behind her eyelids and the explosion of nerves. The feeling of weightlessness and freedom.

Then Free crashed against her and she discovered another feeling that she enjoyed: the weight of Free sprawled on top of her. She relished the feel of his body on hers, the soft tickle of his hair on her cheek, the racing of his heart against her chest.

Free propped himself on his elbows and looked directly in her eyes. He said nothing, just stared, and she felt it deep down inside. Then his face broke into a smile, and he dropped a quick kiss on her lips and jumped off the bed. “Be right back.”

For a guy who had a hard time with buttons, he moved sure-footedly through her room. She heard water running in the bathroom. Sam rolled to her side and kept her eyes on the door. This was when most guys came back into the room and started picking clothes up off the floor looking for an escape.

She wanted to see what Free's reaction would be. Would he want to spend the night? She tried not to get her hopes up, but she wanted him to stay.

He came back into the room looking less sure of himself than when he'd left. He sat on the edge of the bed. “So about this sleepover . . .”

“It's not a requirement.”

“Is it a real invitation?”

Her heart got tight. “Of course.” She patted the bed beside her and he crawled over.

On his way, he grabbed the blanket and covered them. He spooned her with an arm wrapped around her waist.

She relaxed into his embrace and hoped she wasn't making the same mistakes she often did. But then she realized that even though they had spent a lot of time talking over the past few days, this was technically only their second date. Like that was any better than sleeping with a guy on the first date. She had a habit of thinking things were more than they actually were.

“What are you thinking about?”

The question startled her. He'd been so quiet, she'd thought he'd fallen asleep.

“I was just thinking that this is only our second date. And we're in bed together.”

He shifted and turned her to face him. “Is that a problem?”

“I don't want you to think that because I have my own condoms that I'm not into monogamy. I am.” She blew out a breath that puffed her cheeks. “I'm not seeing anyone else. Are you?”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I didn't even come here with a condom. What do you think?”

She raised her eyebrow at him.

“No, Samantha. I am not seeing anyone else. I feel like we have a good thing going here.”

“We do.” She rolled back over. “And Free?”

“Huh?”

“Maybe you should start carrying condoms.”

S
amantha stretched out next to Free. Her naked body rubbed against him and her hair tickled his nose. But his morning hard-on demanded more than a cuddle. He rolled over and on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows.

She peeked at him from under heavy eyelids. Then she slapped a hand over her face. “God, don't look at me like that. I'm a mess in the morning.”

“You look fine.” To prove his point, he prodded her with his dick.

She giggled underneath her hand.

He kissed her neck and down to her tits. “Taste good, too.”

“Shut up.”

He worked his way down her body, kissing and licking. Her skin was warm and soft. He moved lower, crawling under the blanket covering her. Her body suddenly shifted as she sat up. “What are you doing?”

“Exploring.”

“No. Wait.”

He flipped the covers off his head and looked up at her. “You don't like oral?”

“It's not that, but—”

He shoved her shoulder. “Just lie back.”

She did and her hands covered her face again. Samantha was self-conscious about this? They'd spent the night naked in each other's arms. Hell, she'd stripped in front of him and she seemed fearless.

He nudged her thighs wider with his shoulders and let his fingers play with the juncture where her leg met her pelvis. He smelled her arousal. He lowered his mouth and kissed her. Her muscles were still tense.

Laying a palm flat on her belly, he swiped his tongue across her slit, tasting her fully. His fingers stretched up until he had a handful of tit and tugged on her nipple. Her thighs relaxed a fraction, opening wider, inviting him in.

She tasted like heaven. He swirled the tip of his tongue over her clit and her hips jumped. It was like a damn furnace under the blanket now and he threw it off. She gasped as the cold air hit them, but he sucked on her clit, eliminating any complaint.

His gaze traveled over her body. Her hands no longer covered her face. Her eyes were closed, but she was lost in pleasure. Her fingers tangled in the sheet as she rose up to meet his mouth. He slid a couple of fingers into her and stroked.

She began moaning and her thighs tightened around him.

A bell sounded and he paused.

“Don't you stop.”

If nothing else, he was good at taking direction. He flicked his tongue over her and drove his fingers into her until her legs climbed him and she clawed at his head. She released a high-pitched squeal and flopped down. He lapped at her, tasting her come.

He crawled back up her body and reached for a condom. He slid it on while enjoying the post-orgasmic glow on Samantha's face.

A door slammed in the apartment. “Samantha?” a man's voice called.

Free froze. Samantha's eyes bugged out. “Oh my God.” She slapped his arm. “Get up. That's my dad.”

“Your dad has a key to your apartment?”

She nodded as she jumped off the bed. “He pays for it.” Looking at the closed bedroom door, she yelled, “Coming.”

Free laughed. “Yeah, you were.”

She smacked his shoulder. “Not funny.” But she was smiling. “I didn't know he would show up. He never visits.” She gave Free a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don't move. Don't leave this room.”

He leaned back on the pillows. “Am I a secret?”

“No. But my dad has never liked any of my boyfriends. Ever. I don't want this ruined.” She wrapped a robe around her and slipped out the door.

Curiosity got the better of him. He removed the condom and followed to listen at the door.

“Still in bed?” her dad asked.

“I have a guest.”

That was it. No explanation. No offer to introduce him.

“We need to talk.”

“So you just show up at my apartment?”

“You didn't return my calls.”

“I don't want to talk about the car, Dad. My mind's made up.”

Free heard some rustling. What if her dad came in here? He looked down. Although his hard-on had subsided, he was still buck naked. Not the way to meet anyone's dad. He grabbed his jeans and hopped into them.

“My boyfriend's an actor.”

Seemed weird for Samantha to blurt that out. Then Free remembered he'd left his blaster sitting beside the couch. But she'd called him her boyfriend. It made him smile.

“Emphasis on boy.”

That stung.

“I'll be waiting in the car. Say good-bye to the
boy
and meet me in fifteen minutes.”

Free sat on the edge of the bed and waited. A minute later, Samantha opened the door.

“Sorry about that. He wants me to have breakfast with him so we can talk.” Without even looking at him, she added, “I'm sorry our morning was interrupted.”

Her movements were stiff as she moved around the room to gather clothes.

He stood and reached for her arm. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“Want to tell me about it?”

“My dad wants to run my life.” She inhaled deeply. “You know how men like him are. I imagine your dad is similar.”

Free thought about it, but didn't answer. His dad didn't try to run his life. “Can I help?”

“No. I need to handle this myself.” She turned from her dresser with an armful of clothes. “You can take your time and leave whenever you're ready. The door will lock when you close it.”

She sighed and her shoulders sank. He hated the defeated nature of her stance. Didn't her father see what he did to her?

“What does he want from you?”

“I'm not even sure. Today it's about the car. He bought it and I gave it back to him.”

Free didn't have a response to that. He knew the wrong words would make this conversation take an ugly turn.

“I know it sounds stupid. Trust me. He does it to exert control.” She stepped forward and laid her forehead on his shoulder. “I wish I could roll back the clock and be in bed with you.”

“Of course you do. I gave you a screaming orgasm and you gave me blue balls.”

His comment had the desired effect. She laughed. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Be strong. Tell your dad what's important to you.”

She leaned back and looked into his eyes. “That's not a quote, is it?”

“No, but this is.
We are who we choose to be. Spider-Man
.”

He kissed her until her body relaxed and her skin was flushed.

“You taste like sex,” she whispered against his lips.

“I taste like you.” He licked his lips. “You'd better go. Your dad's waiting and if you keep looking at me like that, he might come back here.”

“Call me later.”

“I will.”

While she was in the shower, he gathered the rest of his clothes and straightened up the bed. Samantha was dressed and ready faster than any other woman he'd ever seen.

She called out a good-bye from the door. He dashed over to catch her before she left.

“Hey. I know you're in a hurry, but I wanted to ask you about New Year's Eve.”

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What about it?”

“If you don't have plans, I want to spend it with you. My friends and I throw a party every year. Will you go with me?”

Her whole face brightened with her smile. “Of course.” She tilted her head up and kissed him. Then she ran out.

He had hours until he needed to be back at the theater for opening night. In Samantha's kitchen, he found her coffee and made a pot and then took a shower. While he drank a cup of coffee, he cleaned up their dinner mess from the previous night. They'd been too busy to think about the remainder of food. He tossed everything and looked around.

He didn't want to leave, but he shouldn't stay. He wanted to be here when Sam got home, but she'd told him to leave. She might not want him here when she returned. They would definitely talk more about her family. She talked about school and work, but rarely her parents. Now he wondered what the deal was.

He packed his bag and carried his holster with blaster. When he got to the door, he decided he didn't want to just leave, so he dug through a couple of drawers until he found pen and a piece of paper.

For the first time in months, he felt good. He liked having a woman in his life, and Samantha eased in as if she belonged there.

As he left her apartment, he sent Hunter a text.
I have a date for the party. Call off the craziness.

Sam sat in the restaurant and sipped her lemon water, waiting for her dad to lay in to her.

“You should've returned my calls.”

“It was one call. I've been busy with work for the end of the semester.”

“That's never prevented you from calling me before. Maybe it's this
boy
you're seeing.” He shook out his napkin and laid it across his lap.

“Please don't say it like that. Free is a good guy. He's an actor, but he's in college, graduating this spring.”

Her dad
hmph
ed at that.

“Free had nothing to do with me not calling you back. I didn't call because I didn't want you to try to bully me into taking the car back. I don't want it.”

“That's ridiculous. Why wouldn't you want a car?” He drank his water and waved the waiter over.

“Yes, sir.”

“Coffee, please.” He looked at Sam.

“Me, too.”

The waiter left and Sam folded her hands in her lap. “I don't need the car, Dad. Living in the city means I have access to pretty reliable public transportation. I won't have to worry about paying for parking.”

“There's something else.”

“That car makes me feel like a snob.”

“It's a good car.”

“I know. Try to put yourself in my shoes. I'm working in neighborhoods that make that car a target. I help people who don't know where their next meal is coming from. And then I drive off in a Mercedes. I feel like a phony and some of the people look at me like that.” Her mouth and throat dried as she spoke and she took a cooling drink of water.

“You shouldn't care what they think of you. You're helping them. That's all that should matter.”

“I can help them and take the train.”

“I worry about you. You're too trusting and naïve.”

“I'm not as dumb as you think I am.”

The waiter returned with coffee. Her dad waited until the man left before speaking again.

“I've never thought of you as stupid. You are too trusting. How many times has someone you're helping stolen from you?”

Damn. It was like he had her followed. She couldn't answer him or she'd lose the argument altogether. “I appreciate that you worry about me, but I'm okay. I take the train or bus, and if I'm in an unsafe neighborhood late or I feel uncomfortable, I call a cab.”

He said nothing.

She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. “I need to start living my life and taking care of myself.”

He shook his head. “I'm not going to convince you, am I?”

“Nope.” Holy crap. Had she just won an argument with her dad? She felt like whooping and hollering through the restaurant. Not only had she won, but he'd actually listened to her. He might not agree with what she said, but he'd listened. “Thank you, Dad.”

“For what?”

“For trying to understand where I'm coming from.”

“The car will be in the garage if you change your mind.”

“I won't. You should sell it.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get going. I have a paper I need to finish this weekend.” She stood and left her napkin beside her cup.

He joined her. “Are you going to school or back to your apartment?”

“My apartment.”

“I'll drop you off. I'm glad you haven't tried to give up the apartment.” He tossed bills on the table.

She looped her arm around his. “I will, Dad. I just can't swing it until I'm working full-time. I'm not going to live off of you forever. Don't you want me to grow up?”

“Not particularly.” He kissed her head and she leaned into him.

When she got back to her apartment, part of her hoped Free would still be there, but as soon as she opened the door, she knew he wasn't. It was a silly hope. He might've had class or work. He couldn't sit around waiting for her all day.