With Me in Seattle Bundle One (137 page)

“Bullying you?” I round on her, the rage rising anew. “Bullying you. I fucking stuck up for you, Samantha.”

“No, my brothers did that,” she responds, her eyes on fire. “You betrayed me.”

I stumble backward, as if she physically struck me. “You know, for a smart woman, you can be unbelievably stupid.”

Her eyes flash, but I glare at her, shutting her up. “You want to talk this out? Fine, I’ll talk, and you’re going to listen to every motherfucking word I say.”

~Samantha~

If he swears at me like that one more time, I swear to God I’m going to throw him out on his ass.

“Who the hell do you think you are to treat your family like that?” He plants his hands on his hips and pins me in a glare. “You have a family who adores you. Your brothers would do anything for you. Jesus, Sam, even the Montgomerys would kill for you.” He stomps away and begins pacing about my living room, his face tight with anger.

“Do you know what I would have given for just a moment of that when I was growing up?” He turns to face me, and I feel all the blood drain from my head. “I would have crawled through fire to have such a big family that loved me. To have siblings to fight with and defend when someone else tried to fuck with them. But do you know what I got instead?”

Oh God, I don’t know if I want to know this.

He begins to pace again, his eyes distant, and I realize that it’s not really me that he’s angry with.

He’s just angry.

“My folks died when I was twelve, and they didn’t have siblings, so there was no one to take me. Instead, I was thrown into foster care. The first place wasn’t too bad, but they couldn’t keep me for long, so I kept getting shuffled about, from home to home, until I was about sixteen. Most of the homes were okay. Some of the dads liked to hit, which I learned to deal with.” He shrugs and goes to look out my window at the busy street below.

“What happened when you were sixteen?” I whisper, my stomach roiling in anger and pain and sheer horror.

“I woke up one night.”

His voice is so low I can barely hear it, so I quietly inch closer.

“And the man I lived with was on top of me, trying to get my pants off.”

Holy fucking shit.

“I was always a tall kid, but by the time I was sixteen, I was strong, too, and I fought the fat fucker off of me. Blackened his eye.” He braces his forehead against the glass, lost in the horrific memories running through his head. “I woke up like that, almost every night for a week. He just wouldn’t give up. It got to where I would fight sleep, doing everything in my power to stay awake and sleep during class in the daytime, but I would inevitably fall asleep.”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Then they brought in this other kid, a few years younger than me, named Tom. He was weaker than me. He had the bed next to mine.”

“Oh God,” I whisper, my hand over my mouth.

“Yeah, he wasn’t as lucky,” he whispers. “But worse than that, Meg came along.”

“Don’t tell me…”

“No, the bastard preferred young boys, but I made it my mission in life to protect her and make sure that no one ever touched her like that.”

He turns to me, his face carefully void of any emotion at all. His balled hands are at his sides, and every muscle in his body is clenched.

“That’s what family does, Samantha. They protect each other. Instead of you giving your brothers, your parents, your friends the opportunity to help you, you shut them out.”

“I don’t need their charity,” I begin, but his face hardens once again, and I cringe. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t want them to feel obligated to help me.”

“They don’t feel obligated. They feel love, damn it!”

“I don’t deserve it!” I yell back at him. “I’ve never done anything to deserve to be in this family, with all of these wonderful, beautiful people.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, his expression completely confused.

“I’m not anyone special. I don’t have any amazing talents, I don’t make a ton of money, I’m not even a very nice person. The only thing I have is famous family members.” I shake my head and move across the room, my back to him. “Do you know that, aside from family and people I’m related to by marriage, I don’t have one person that I consider my friend? Not one. And that’s not a coincidence.” I turn back to him. He’s watching me like I’ve gone crazy.

He could be right.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because someone always wants something from me, Leo. In high school, they wanted to get close to Luke or Mark, so they’d pretend to be my friend so they could hang out at our house and try to get glimpses of them. When Luke got famous, it intensified by a thousand. Hell, a million.” I laugh ruefully. “I finally got smart and separated myself from it, found a career I like and am good at, and even that fucked me over.”

I brace my head in my hands, rubbing my forehead with my fingertips. “I learned a long time ago to look out for myself and not depend on others to take care of me. Fame is fleeting and, honestly, it’s just a lie.” I find his eyes and shrug. “Being famous doesn’t make anyone happy. It’s just…scary.”

“Sam, you deserve your family. They love you.”

“Yes, they do.” I nod and then shake my head. “And I love them more than anything. But I don’t deserve to have them pick up the pieces when my life falls apart. I’m in my thirties, for the love of Christ, Leo, I need to pick up my own pieces.”

“I notice you’re not including me anywhere in this equation,” he murmurs and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t need you to fix anything either,” I tell him firmly.

“No, you don’t need me to fix anything, but supporting you and being there for you are not fixing.”

“I don’t need your fame,” I mutter and turn my back on him, shuffling back and forth across my small living room.

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice tight with frustration.

But I don’t answer. I just continue to pace. “I don’t need your money,” I mutter again and push my hands through my hair.

“Okay.” He’s right behind me now, and I can feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, but he places his hands gently on my shoulders, and his touch is my undoing. “What do you need, sunshine?”

“You!” I spin and clasp my arms around his middle, press my face to his chest so I don’t have to look him in the eye, and let the tears come. “I just need you,” I whisper.

“Sam,” he whispers and wraps those warm, strong arms around my shoulders, hugging me close. “You have me, baby.”

“It pisses me off.” I lean my forehead against his chest. “I don’t like this feeling. In the car, I thought you were dropping me off and not coming back, and it killed me. I don’t want to depend on you.”

“Hey.” He tips my chin up so I have to look him in the eye. “You make me so angry, I just didn’t think I could talk with you without wanting to throttle you. Sam, you have to work on this whole not-feeling-worthy thing. Your family adores you, and you feel the same. You need to trust them.”

“I know.” I drop my gaze to his mouth and frown.

“And another thing.” He kisses my forehead. “You
are
a nice person, whether you like it or not. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. If you keep talking shit about my woman, I’ll have to punish you.”

“No more tosses into pools.” I smile.

“I’m sorry you feel like I betrayed you.” His face sobers, his eyes sad. “That’s the very last thing I would ever do.”

“I know, but I told you…”

“You know, one of the things that you’ll learn about me”—he kisses my forehead softly—“is that I will always have your best interests at heart. Your family deserved to know.”

“And I deserved to tell them.” I stand strong. “I need you beside me, not fighting my battles for me.”

A slow grin spreads across his face, and he cups my face in his hands before lowering his lips to mine. “Well put. As long as I’m in the picture.”

“Leo, you
are
the picture.”

He stills, his eyes searching mine, and then he kisses me, softly at first, and then demandingly. He bends and scoops me into his arms and carries me to my bedroom.

“I need to get you naked and lose myself in you. Is that okay?” he asks. His gray eyes have softened.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

I pull his shirt up over his head when he sets me on my feet. We quickly undress each other and tumble onto the bed. Leo rises over me, his leg resting between my own, and pulls his fingertips down my face.

“I love you, Samantha Williams. Every damn day, I love you.” His lips capture mine again before I can answer, and he contentedly kisses me, brushing his mouth over mine, letting me bite and pull on his piercing, his thumb tracing circles on my cheek.

His erection is pressing against my hip, but when I try to reach down for it, he captures my hand in his and kisses my fingers. “Not yet,” he whispers.

“What’s wrong?”

“We have all night. This isn’t a quick fuck, sunshine.” He nibbles the corner of my mouth and down to my jawline. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m going to lose myself in you. I’m going to make love to you, baby.”

“I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupts, and eyes on mine, he kisses me again. “You do know.”

I glide my fingertips down his sides to his ass, and my hands clench when his fingertip circles my nipple, tightening the sensitive skin.

“I love your breasts,” he whispers and pulls the nipple into his mouth, suckling gently. “So responsive.”

“I love your mouth.” I squirm beneath him as he gently bites the tight nipple. “Can’t get enough of it.”

“Good.” He chuckles and kisses my jawline again and up to my lips. He continues to kiss my mouth, his tongue teasing mine, as his hand glides down my torso, over my stomach, to my core, and pushes two fingers over my clit and into my folds.

“Oh God.” My back automatically arches, pushing me against his hand. “God, you have good hands.”

“I love how wet you get,” he whispers. “You’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

He nibbles down to my collarbones and farther still to my breasts, paying them both close attention. His fingers are moving rhythmically through the lips of my labia, almost tickling me.

“Haven’t we already decided that I’m not a guitar?” I ask.

“You’re better.” He licks my navel, pulls my piercing gently with his teeth and then kisses it sweetly. “This piercing will be my undoing.”

“All those piercings you have…” I gasp as one of his fingers dives inside me and brushes my sweet spot. “And my little navel piercing turns you on?”

“It’s hot as hell on you, baby.”

“I like yours, too, even the eyebrow.”

“Yeah?” His lips move lower down my abdomen to my pussy, and then he leans back and just stares at my core.

“What are you looking at?”

“I love how pink you are.” He grins wickedly and then leans in and licks me, from my anus to my clit and back down again. “God, you taste good.”

“Holy fuck,” I whisper as my hips begin to move like they have a life of their own.

He spreads my legs wide and pins them to the mattress with his forearms, and uses his hands to spread my pussy wide and buries his face in my core, thrusts his tongue inside me, then closes his mouth and moves that glorious piercing all over my lips and up to my clit.

“Dear God, that lip is awesome,” I mutter and feel him smile against me. “Is that why you got it?” I ask, panting.

“No, side benefit.” He does it again.

“Leo.” God, I can’t breathe. I can’t even open my eyes. He’s turning me inside out.

“Mmm…”

“Need you, Leo,” I whisper, not even sure if the words are actually coming out of me, or if they’re simply in my head.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Okay, so I spoke them aloud. “I need you inside me.” I shake my head against the pillow, going out of my mind with lust. If he turns me on any further, I’ll die.

Or burst into flames.

“I’ll get there,” he mutters and continues to assault my pussy with his mouth.

“Please,” I whisper and then whimper when he latches those amazing lips on to my clit and sinks two fingers inside me.

He’s trying to kill me.

I come like crazy around his fingers, my hips bucking and pushing against him, and finally he kisses and licks his way back up my body, rests his lower body against mine, and braces himself on his elbows on either side of my head, his hands in my hair and his face only centimeters from mine. My hands drift up and down his back and up over his shoulders so I can trace the tattoos on his arms.

“I love your ink,” I whisper and watch my fingers on his skin. “What does this one mean?”

“It represents the first song that I wrote that we recorded on our first album,” he replies, watching me intently.

“And this one?” I ask, tracing the other shoulder.

“That was the original artwork from the third album, but the studio chose to go with something different.” He brushes a piece of hair off my forehead and kisses me gently there.

“What about this?” I ask, touching his forearm.

“That one reminds me of Meg.”

“Really?” I ask with a smile.

He nods and nuzzles my nose with his. “If we keep this up, we’ll be here all night.”

“We have all night,” I remind him with a smile.

“Let’s continue the tattoo talk in a little while,” he suggests.

“Okay, what would you like to do in the meantime?” I continue to trace his ink with my finger.

“I can think of a few things.” He slowly sinks inside me. “Jesus, sunshine, I never get used to being inside you without a cover.”

“Mmm…” I agree and sigh as he keeps his hips still, seated completely inside me. “You feel so good.”

He links my hand with his, kisses my fingers, and lifts my hand over my head to rest against the bed. He clenches his hand firmly as he begins to move in and out of me, slow but steady. He rests his forehead on mine.

“I’ve never in my life felt like this,” he murmurs and continues to make love to me. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted, Sam. More than music. More than anything.”

Tears pool in my eyes at his sweet words, and I bite my lip.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers.