She dropped her purse and began tugging at his coat, pushing him against the door. He ripped it off without breaking the kiss. Her hands were sliding up and down his chest and arms. “Wow,” she murmured.
He untucked her blouse and slid his hands up her sides. She was thin but not too thin, and he was dying to get his hands on those tantalizing breasts. He stopped just under her bra and pulled back.
She groaned in protest. “What?” They were both breathing heavily, and her eyes were half-closed.
“Are you okay with this?” he asked earnestly.
“Yes. Oh yes. Touch me,” she pleaded.
He lifted her effortlessly and turned so that her back was against the door. She wrapped her legs around him and returned to kissing him stupid. He undid the hook on her bra and moaned in appreciation at the soft, natural breasts that fit his hands perfectly. He rubbed her hard nipples until she was moving against him, desperate for more.
She was trying to get into his pants but having a hard time with their bodies mashed together. He pulled back and looked her in the eyes. “Annie, unless you tell me no, I’m going to fuck you up against this door. Right now.”
“Oh, thank God. Yes, please. Do it!” She looked as desperate as he felt.
He reached into his back pocket and fished a condom out of his wallet. He didn’t bother taking his pants off but let her down just long enough to strip off her pants and panties. She’d already kicked off her shoes. As soon as she was naked and he was covered, he lifted her and thrust into her, pinning her to the door once more.
“Oh. My. God,” she cried.
He began to move in and out. She did her best to help, but it was difficult in the position she was in.
“Just hold still,” he murmured next to her ear. “I’ve got this.” Obediently, she stilled and hung on tight as he pumped into her over and over again, moaning with each thrust. He sensed the moment her orgasm hit and muffled her scream with his mouth. She broke away and tipped her head back, gasping for air. He panted into her neck and held her while she gradually relaxed.
When she came down off the high, she seemed oblivious to the fact that he was still rock hard. She unwrapped her legs, and he let her slide down the door, placing her gently on the floor and reconciling himself to the fact that he was going home to a cold shower.
“That was amazing,” she murmured. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I just did that.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him as she bent to retrieve her scattered clothes. Not knowing what else to do with it, he left the condom on and zipped up his pants. Which, in his condition, was uncomfortable as hell.
“Can I call you?” he asked. She was clumsily trying to re-dress while simultaneously attempting to keep herself covered. Little late for modesty. He waited until she’d covered up before repeating the question.
“What?” Her head jerked up and her eyes were wide. “I don’t… I’m not… uh, sure? Okay.” She was clearly freaking out, and he sensed a fake number coming up. She reached for her purse and scribbled a number on a scrap of paper. Doubting it was her actual number, he took it politely and stuck it in his pocket.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Annie. I guess I’d better get back to the cab before he leaves me.”
“Yeah, of course.” Her eyes darted around the room, looking at everything but him. “Look, I don’t usually… I mean, I’m sorry I… Oh, never mind. If you don’t call, I totally understand. No hard feelings.” She opened the door, seemingly desperate for him to go.
He didn’t look back as he made his way to the curb, but stole a glance once in the backseat. He thought he saw her looking out the side window, but couldn’t be sure.
Great job, dumbass. You finally find a girl you like, and you royally fuck it up. Brilliant.
CHAPTER THREE
Annie peeked out the side window and watched Sam walk back to the waiting cab. She hadn’t noticed he limped until now. Odd.
After the taxi pulled away, she felt her way to the couch in the dark. Streetlights and the glow from the kitchen appliances cut through the darkness enough for her to see vague outlines of furniture. She plopped into the soft cushions, lay her head back, and let her arms sprawl. She was in shock and still reeling from her encounter with Sam.
The unexpected quickie was way out of character for her. She’d never done anything so reckless or spontaneous. When the overwhelming surge of lust attacked from nowhere, she’d left all scruples on the cab’s floorboard and lost control, plain and simple. The sexual energy from merely holding his hand had her at a slow burn, and as soon as he’d put his lips on hers, she’d exploded, her body waking and aching for him.
He’d made her crazy with want. The ability to think rationally had failed her, and she’d done something so monumentally stupid she still couldn’t believe it.
She’d just had sex with Sam MacDonald. The Sam MacDonald. Multimillionaire, maybe billionaire—who knew? She didn’t keep track of his net worth—playboy, Sam MacDonald. The same Sam MacDonald she would report to on Monday morning when she started her new job. Would he fire her right then? Could she plead temporary insanity?
It had all happened so fast. When she saw him at the bar, she’d recognized him immediately. Who wouldn’t? But then he’d spoken to her, and she’d nearly fainted. Having worked for his company for years, she knew a lot about him but had never actually met him. She’d had him pegged as a total rich guy douchebag, but she was wrong. Not once did he bring up who he was or even mention his last name—just pretended to be a regular guy. He seemed genuinely interested in helping her, and she thought it was nice that he asked her to dinner after finding out her cousin had ditched her.
They seemed to get along well over dinner, and when he asked to share her cab, she thought nothing of it. Even after he held her hand in the cab, she figured that was normal for him. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined what came next. Came next?
Her eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright. “Oh, shit!”
In her post-orgasmic haze, she’d failed to notice that Sam was still raring to go when she’d gotten dressed and all but pushed him out the door. Was that why he was limping? Oh, God. This was bad.
He would be pissed when he found out she knew damn good and well who he was, and could she blame him? It wasn’t that she set out to deceive him, but he’d never believe that.
Sam was notorious for keeping his private life very private. He’d been sued a few times by women claiming he was their baby’s daddy and twice by women claiming sexual assault. He never settled though, which she admired. He fought them all and won them all. The claims magically disappeared when the accusers found out they were getting a fight instead of an easy payout. And in every instance, it had eventually come out that the women had made up the accusations.
Through the company grapevine, she’d heard that he’d turned into somewhat of a recluse after the last accusation. Guess that was one hazard of being so rich. Some people only saw you as a way to cash out. She could sort of relate.
When he didn’t mention who he was or what he did, she figured maybe he just wanted to remain anonymous or needed a night off from being Sam MacDonald. So, she gave it to him. Technically, she didn’t lie to him. Well, unless you counted lies of omission. Then she was in trouble.
What would she say if he called? Oh, who was she kidding? He wasn’t going to call. Especially not after she sent him home with a hard-on.
She was getting worked up over nothing. Bigwigs like him weren’t responsible for showing around the new hires. No doubt he worked from home and took a lot of vacations. It would surely be months before she ever saw him again, and by then he would have long forgotten her. Tonight had been monumental for her but probably meant nothing to him.
Well, there was no sense in worrying about it. She had enough actual problems. No need to invent more.
She heaved herself from the comfy couch and changed into pajamas. Lying in bed, she replayed the evening over and ove
r in her mind. After over three years of no sex, this was a hell of a way to break her dry spell.
She’d never felt such a strong sexual pull toward a man. The get-inside-me-now-or-I’ll-die feeling was foreign and so fierce it scared her. She wondered if it was Sam specifically or if she’d just gone too long and any man would have set her off. She wasn’t an experienced lover and wasn’t sure what to make of the new feelings.
She fell asleep knowing that while having sex with Sam MacDonald may have been one of the dumbest things she’d ever done, it was also, hands down, the most exhilarating.
***
Sam spent the uncomfortable cab ride home berating himself. He knew better than to have casual sex with someone local. She may not know who he was now, but it wouldn’t be long before she read an article or saw a news story and figured it out. Who knew what shitstorm would befall him then? Damn it. This was why he’d made the Rules. If he didn’t follow them, what good were they?
Sam, Jake, and Phil had come up with the Rules after a particularly nasty lawsuit several years ago. A woman who had aggressively pursued Sam tried to sue him in civil court for mental pain and anguish after their “breakup.” They’d gone out three times and had sex once. Ever since then, until tonight, Sam had religiously adhered to the carefully thought-out rules, devised to keep him out of trouble. The Rules were simple:
Rule #1: Do not sleep with any woman within a hundred-mile radius of home unless in a committed relationship or a release has been signed.
Rule #2: Do not date or sleep with any woman associated with the company or (especially) its competitors.
Rule #3: Do not date or sleep with any woman who does not have a net worth of at least two million dollars.
The Rules protected him to some degree, but they also made his love life a nightmare. Carefully assessing every potential date or lover was exhausting and took the spontaneity out of everything. He was tired of it. Sick of having to assume every woman was out to get him. Exhausted from being so cynical. How was he ever going to find love this way?
That was one reason he’d walked Annie to her doorstep. She seemed like a nice, classy, down-to-earth woman, and he wanted to get to know her. No one knew Jake and Sam were going to that particular bar. No one knew Annie’s cousin would be the woman Jake left with. Annie couldn’t have known he’d ask her to dinner, so there was no chance this was a setup. The evening seemed totally normal, and he didn’t get many of those.
Of course, walking her to the doorstep wasn’t what broke the rules. He’d planned to take it slow and only kiss her goodnight. He was unprepared for the raw, naked lust that had reared up and gripped him by the balls. She’d all but caught fire in his arms, and even though he was going home to a cold shower, it was still the hottest encounter he’d ever had with a woman.
He leaned his head back on the cab’s headrest and closed his eyes, replaying the evening. He was used to people sucking up to him and only telling him things they thought he wanted to hear. Women always laughed at his jokes, batted their eyelashes a lot, and hung on his every word. Dinner with Annie had been entirely different.
No coy looks. No courtesy laughs. She didn’t even crack a smile at what he thought was his best joke. Instead, she’d looked at him and raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is that all you’ve got? Best of all, she’d called him out on his shit and said something when she disagreed with him. And insisting on paying for dinner? It was irritating and refreshing at the same time. Nowadays, his family, Phil, and his business partner, Matthew, were the only people who spoke their mind around him.
He’d grown tired of playing by the Rules. He wanted to stick his neck out and see what he’d been missing. What if the woman of his dreams was waiting for him, but he’d never meet her because of the stupid rules?
Well, he couldn’t go back now. What was done was done. If there were consequences, he’d deal with them.
The driver pulled up to his gated neighborhood and tapped in the code to enter. In another half-mile, he did the same at Sam’s driveway. The gates swung open, and he eased his way through, stopping on the other side to make sure they closed completely before continuing. Maybe a second gate was a bit much, but better safe than sorry. Everyone and their dog had the code to the neighborhood gate, which rendered it essentially useless. Only a handful of people knew Sam’s code.
Ahead, the glow of porchlights lit up the mansion he called home. A cobblestone walkway led to an oversized portico, where an ornate chandelier hung above a forty-foot, rarely used, front door. Bright floodlights highlighted monstrous white columns that stood guard along the front of the house. All this space and just him who lived here. The thought depressed him. What a waste.
“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Steve. Jake left me high and dry,” Sam said as Steve pushed the button clipped to the taxi’s visor to open the multi-car garage.
“No problem. That is what you pay me for.”
He parked the cab next to a sleek, black SUV, and they both got out. Steve had been Sam’s personal driver for about five years. He was a retired state patrol lieutenant and Jake had introduced them saying they could help each other out. Steve had gotten the short end of the stick in a divorce and would benefit from a place to live and the extra income, and Sam had been complaining about downtown parking and wasting time in traffic for years. Sam had resisted the idea at first, thinking it was pretentious to have a personal driver, but hiring Steve had turned out to be a win/win for both of them.
“Been a long time since we’ve had this old girl out, huh?” Sam ran his hand along the hood of the cab. “I was actually thinking of painting it black and putting a ride share sticker on it. Would you rather be a fake Uber driver? Or a fake cab driver?”
Steve laughed. “Makes no difference to me. I’ll drive anything.”
“I’m not one of those weird, eccentric, rich assholes because I have my own cab, am I?” Sam asked thoughtfully. He’d purchased it on a whim after taking a few sketchy rides in real taxis.
“Nah. When you have me start tasting your food before you eat it, I’ll worry,” said Steve with a smile.
They were pretty good friends, but Steve knew better than to ask Sam about the woman. He was paid just as much for his discretion as he was for his driving skills.
“If I need to go anywhere tomorrow, I’ll drive myself. You don’t need to be on call.”
“Sounds good. Have a good evening.” Steve tipped his head and went out the back door. He lived in the guest house not too far from the garage.
Sam left the garage and walked through the covered walkway to the main house. Upon entering, the lights came on automatically, and a soft, feminine voice welcomed him home and asked if the temperature was comfortable.
“Temperature’s fine, Sophie. Turn KING 5 news on in the living room, please.”
“Very good, sir. Turning on KING 5 news now,” the voice in the ceiling confirmed just as he heard the TV come on in the next room. He grabbed a beer from the enormous, stainless steel refrigerator, used the handle on a kitchen drawer to pop the top, and went to veg out. He rarely watched TV but did try to catch the news every so often.
Plopping down on the smooth, leather sofa, he took a swig from the bottle and looked around. To his right was a wall of windows that showcased a spectacular view of Lake Washington. A fancy marble fireplace, high ceilings, and crazy-overpriced furniture filled the rest of the room. All this money. All this stuff. And no one to share it with.
Usually, he kept busy traveling, doing charity work, and, of course, working. Work had always been his primary focus in life. He’d poured his heart and soul into the company, and it was doing spectacularly, but it was no longer as fulfilling as it had been in the beginning. Lately, all the hustle and bustle seemed trite, and it was no longer shielding him from the loneliness.
He wanted a partner, an equal. But not just anyone. It had to be someone he could trust for sure, but also someone he could have fun with. He wanted a friend and a love
r, and if all that was tied up in an attractive package, even better. Maybe he was being unreasonable, but he wanted it all.
The news of his youngest brother’s engagement had caused Sam to do some soul-searching. For so long, his priority had always been his business, but at what cost?
“Sophie, am I going to die alone?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know the answer to that question,” Sophie answered politely.
“Hey, Sophie, do you think Annie liked me?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know the answer to that question,” Sophie repeated.
“Oh, never mind. Sophie, turn off the TV.”
The TV went silent. Sam sat in the dark. Making quick, decisive decisions was what he did all day, every day. Finding a mate was no different. Time to take the bull by the horns.
If Annie had given him a real phone number, he’d call her tomorrow, ask her out, and see where things went. If that didn’t work out, he’d let Phil sign him up for the matchmaking site. Simple.
“Sophie, start the shower in the master bath.”
“Normal temperature, sir?”
The image of Annie panting in his ear and screaming into his mouth as she came flashed through his mind. “Better drop the temperature five degrees, Sophie.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“You did what?” Phil’s mouth fell open.
“You heard me. I broke the Rules. Get over it.” It was Monday morning, and Phil was sitting on Sam’s office couch, his feet on the coffee table. Phil was not only Sam’s best friend, but his right-hand man.
“All right. Well, at least give me some details then. Was it worth it?” Phil set down the newspaper he was skimming and put his feet on the floor, giving Sam his full attention.
Catching Sam: Book 2 of 5: The MacDonald Brothers Page 2
