I See London 1 (34 page)

Samir’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t speak. I jerked my hand back.

“Sorry.”

I doubted his girlfriend liked other girls touching him. I shoved my hands in my jeans pockets, staring down at the cheap hospital floor.

“Are you around later?”

I jerked my head up. I nodded wordlessly.

Something flickered in his eyes. “Good. Maybe I’ll see you around.” The words were casual enough. But his eyes—

There was a world of promise in those brown eyes.

Chapter 49

I retreated to the common room, takeout sushi and a bottle of wine in hand. It wasn’t Krispy Kreme but it would do; besides, the memory of going to Harrods for doughnuts would forever be inextricably linked with finding Fleur lying unconscious on the floor. Tonight I needed another kind of release.

My bags were packed and ready to go. Our room was stripped of any sign that we had all been there. It was depressing to see it so empty and the memories in room 301 were too much to bear. The common room had seemed like the best place to spend my last night alone in London.

I definitely wasn’t sitting here waiting for Samir.

“Want some company?”

My heart pounded. I took a swig from the bottle of wine, turning to face the doorway. Samir stood in the entrance, wearing a black shirt and jeans. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

He hesitated for a moment, standing in the doorway.

“Sure.”

I didn’t know what I was doing, but I didn’t want to be alone tonight. No, that wasn’t entirely true—I wanted to be with Samir.

I gestured toward the screen in front of me. “Want to watch TV?”

Samir hesitated in the doorway for another moment before coming into the room. “Why not?”

Hands shaky, I tossed him the remote. It completely missed the mark, bouncing off one of the sofa cushions on the couch opposite mine.

Samir grinned. “Smooth move.”

“Are you going to play nice today?” I hadn’t intended for my tone to be flirtatious, but somehow it came out that way. The air fairly sparkled with some unspoken tension.

He cocked his head to the side, as if considering my question. “Sure, why not.” He turned his attention to the TV screen. “What’re we watching?”

I shrugged. I hadn’t been paying attention to the movie in front of me. “You pick something. I’m cool with whatever.”

Samir leaned over and grabbed the remote off the other sofa, flipping around between the channels. He closed the space between us, coming to sit next to me. “Is this okay?”

I gazed at the screen. An action movie flickered in the background. Mindless entertainment was exactly what I needed. “Works for me.” I held out the nearly empty wine bottle. “Want some?”

Samir took the bottle from me, taking a long swig. His face scrunched up. “Ugh. What is this crap?”

“It’s chardonnay.” I frowned at him. It hadn’t been that bad. “The guy at the wine shop down the street said it was the best Chilean wine they had.”

He grimaced. “This stuff is shit.”

My eyes narrowed. “It isn’t shit. Some of us don’t go around drinking thousand-dollar bottles of champagne.”

I knew I was being petty, but I had been spoiling for a fight with
someone
since Hugh broke up with me and Fleur wound up in the hospital. Besides, fighting with Samir seemed like a better idea than the other things I was thinking of doing with him.

Samir rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” His Rolex glinted under the harsh fluorescent light as he pulled out a cigarette, holding it out to me.

“Want one?”

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “No, thanks. No lung cancer for me.”

“Suit yourself.” He pulled out a fancy-looking silver lighter.

“You aren’t seriously going to smoke in here?”

Samir paused, the cigarette in midair. “Why not? School’s out. No one is around. I doubt the administration is going to freak if I light up.”

“There are fire alarms.” I raised my gaze up to the ceiling to illustrate my point.

Samir laughed. “You really are a good girl, aren’t you? The fire alarms don’t work. Just like everything else in this school, they’re there for show. I’ve done it plenty of times.”

He held the lighter to the edge of the cigarette until the paper lit up. He took a long, slow drag, smoke filling the room. The fire alarms remained silent.

I bristled, his words hitting way too close to home. “I’m not a good girl.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not. Just because I haven’t screwed half the student body doesn’t mean I’m a good girl. Maybe I just have standards.”

“I have standards.”.

“Really? I seem to remember some rumors flying around about you and Bianca earlier in the semester.”

As far as barbs went, it was kind of a cheap shot.

Samir groaned. “You should know better than to believe everything you hear. Especially here. I gave her a ride home after class one day. It was nothing.”

“Because of the girlfriend?”

Another shrug. Followed by a long pause. I waited for his answer, all of my concentration focused on Samir.

“Not really. Layla and I haven’t been serious for that long. A couple weeks at most.”

I turned to face him, full of annoyance at the cavalier attitude of the entire male sex and just drunk enough to want to make a point of things. “Let me get this straight. You have a girlfriend. Who is apparently enough of a girlfriend that you’re going to visit her in Beirut. But apparently not enough of a girlfriend to factor into your decision-making on whether or not you should hook up with some other girl.”

Samir’s lips twisted into a grin. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You’re disgusting.”

He shrugged. “I’m a guy.” His gaze lingered on me for a moment. “Besides, you’re one to talk—what about the British guy?”

I wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.

I grabbed the bottle of wine, taking another swig. Okay, he was right. It wasn’t the best wine. But it was cheap. And given the sad state of my bank account right now, cheap was good.

Samir turned up the volume of the TV, effectively terminating the conversation. His shoulder brushed against mine. We sat there like that for an hour, passing the bottle of wine between us. I barely paid attention to the movie, my thoughts drifting between my conversation with Samir and my break up with Hugh. I didn’t get guys. I’d never really thought I did, but now, after this year, I realized just how utterly clueless I was.

Samir lowered the volume on the TV, turning to face me. I could feel the full weight of his attention on me. “What happened with the British guy?”

I froze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why? I thought you really liked him.” There was intensity behind those words. “I thought he was the one. I thought you’d want to spend you last night in London with him.”

I blushed. The words just came out. “He broke up with me because I wouldn’t have sex with him. Partly.” I sucked in a deep breath, not quite believing I was going to share
this
much with him. Somehow I plowed through. “He said it was the age difference. And I’m sure that was part of it. But the sex thing was part of it, too. Even if he couldn’t admit it. And he had this ex-girlfriend who had perfect hair.” My eyes narrowed. “Does your girlfriend have perfect hair? I bet she does.”

Samir chuckled softly. “How drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk,” I protested, glaring at him.

“Good.”

It was a moment before Samir spoke, but when he did—

Samir’s voice was low, his tone strained. “Why wouldn’t you have sex with him?”

The TV was muted now. I stared at the flickering images on the screen, unwilling to meet his gaze. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.

“I don’t know. He was hot. Like seriously, seriously hot. Tall and built and hot. Really, really hot.”

“I get it.” His voice was terse.

I ran a hand through my hair, fidgeting with the ends. “I liked him—a lot. And I tried.” Embarrassment crept into my voice. Everything came tumbling out now. “I bought lingerie from that store on High Street Ken. But every night I thought to myself,
Okay, this is the night,
nothing happened. We kissed and stuff. But I could never move past that.” I shook my head. “I knew he was getting frustrated with me. I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost his attention. And I just couldn’t make myself do it. And then we saw his ex…” My voice trailed off bitterly. “It all just fell apart.”

For a moment Samir didn’t say anything. When he finally did speak, all I could see was the profile of his face.

“You shouldn’t feel pressured into having sex with someone.”

Confusion filled me. I never expected to hear something like that from Samir.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t have sex with him. It sounds like it wasn’t what you really wanted.”

Why did everyone keep saying that?

“I did want it,” I protested.

Samir shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t buy it. I don’t think you did. I’ve known you for what—almost a year now? Maybe you came here shy and feeling out of place. But that’s not who you are anymore. If you’d really wanted to have sex with this guy, you would have.” I blinked. “Trust me. You dodged a bullet on this one. You don’t want to have sex with some guy you aren’t that into.”

I laughed—a harsh, jaded sound that filled the common room. “That’s a little rich coming from you.”

“Believe what you want.” Tension sparked between us; the air now visibly shimmered with it. “You should expect more from some guy than having to fight for his attention. Don’t sell yourself short. You deserve more. You deserve everything.”

I had nothing. I just sat there staring at him. “Why?” I whispered, knowing it was the one question I shouldn’t be asking. I was starting something, something I had no business starting. Something I doubted I could see all the way through.

The question hung between us.

Samir’s eyes flared with heat. I watched the slow simmer before his lips curved and his face relaxed. “You’re a good girl. You deserve better than a one-night stand.”

So we were back to that.

“I only get involved with girls who can handle it. Someone like you will end up getting attached. I’m just looking for fun. Some girls are okay with that. But you aren’t one of those girls. You wouldn’t settle. You’re the kind of girl who deserves something better than a guy who just wants sex. You deserve better than a guy like him…hell, you deserve better than a guy like me. You need a good guy. A guy who will treat you right. A guy who can give you what you want, what you need.”

His words were so close to Hugh’s that they hit uncomfortably close to home.

My eyes narrowed. “I think I might hate you.”

We both knew how much I lied. He’d been right all along. This was how we handled each other. And in a strange way, we both liked it.

Samir laughed. “You don’t hate me. You just hate that I’m right. Look, there’s nothing wrong with the way you are. But know your limits. Find some nice, boring guy somewhere and date him.”

“I don’t like nice, boring guys,” I muttered between clenched teeth.

“Then you just might have a problem.”

No shit.

My mouth parted, frustration filling me. I wanted—something. I just didn’t know what.
It had been so long since we kissed.
And then I knew. At that exact moment—

I liked Samir. Couldn’t get him out of my mind, didn’t want to keep my hands off of him, wanted him and only him, liked him.

Make it count.

“What if I want something else? What if I’m tired of playing it safe?”

For a moment he didn’t answer me. And then words in French escaped Samir’s mouth. I may not have understood the words, but I knew the emotion behind them. He leaned in closer to me, a gleam in his eye.

He wanted me. I knew it in my bones.

“Samir?”

“Yes?”

It was now or never. Our bodies were inches apart. I itched to wrap my legs around him. To feel him pressing up against me—hot and hard.

“I don’t want to be a good girl anymore.”

Samir stiffened. For a moment he just sat there, his gaze devouring me. And then he moved closer..

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice tense and breathless.

“Breaking the rules.”

Chapter 50

Samir moved forward another inch, our lips so close they were nearly touching.

I leaned in, closing the gap between us. Rational thought fled, replaced by a need that would no longer be ignored. I wouldn’t see him for months. Now was all that mattered. My lips brushed against his, hesitant at first. Then, bolder. My tongue darted out, sliding into his mouth. It was all the invitation he needed. Samir’s hand traveled up, his fingertips brushing along the side of my face. His mouth opened, his tongue licking into my mouth.

Just like that, he took over the kiss.

It felt good. Really, really good. Mind-numbingly good.

I wanted more. I wanted
him.

I moved from my spot on the couch, letting Samir pull me forward onto his lap. My legs wrapped around his waist. I felt him—lean and hard against me. His hands moved along my body, cupping my curves, fisting in my hair. He was everywhere, his hands molding and shaping my body against his. He was sculpting me, learning every inch of me. Remembering it. His lips moved from my mouth, running alongside my neck. His tongue darted out, licking at the delicate flesh.

I shivered. Desire rammed into me. I needed more.
Now.

“Take off your shirt.”

I fumbled with my sweater, distracted by his lips and hands.

Impatient, Samir reached down, his hands gripping the edge of my sweater. He lifted the fabric up, the cold air hitting my skin. He tossed the sweater onto the common room floor.

For a moment, Samir stopped moving. He leaned back, his gaze roaming over my naked torso, his eyes lingering on my bra. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” He trailed a finger along the bra’s scalloped edge.

A grin escaped.

“I wanted to touch you here—” his fingers dipped lower, grazing my nipple “—the night we played rummy. I wanted to play with you, to kiss you, to lick every inch of your gorgeous breasts.”