by Laura Sutton
He pressed her clit hard against her pubic bone and Sam went rigid, muscles clamping down hard, and he lost the last shreds of his control. His climax hit him like a truck, hard and intense, leaving him suspended in blissful sensation for long seconds. When it finally ebbed, he collapsed on top of her, his cock pulsating with lingering pleasure and then softening inside her.
It took what felt like an eternity for Eli’s senses to return, and even then he barely had the energy to withdraw from Sam’s body and roll over onto his back. He made quick work of the condom, tying it off before throwing it in the vague vicinity of the trashcan by the bed, and pulled Sam to lie across his chest. He was still panting, his heartbeat still racing, but he wanted to sleep with her wrapped up in his arms.
“Wow,” Sam whispered, laying her head on his shoulder.
Eli opened his eyes and grinned down at the very satisfied smile on her face. “Wow is right, bimba. Now, I hate to do this, but I need to sleep,” he said, exhaustion slurring his words.
“Mmm, me, too,” she agreed and burrowed deeper into his chest.
Eli couldn’t stop running his hand up and down her side, though. He was exhausted, sated at last after what has seemed like an eternity of restraint, but he still couldn’t get enough of the feel of her skin.
“Sleep, Sam, and when we wake up, we can do this all again,” he murmured, and was asleep before she could even respond.
Chapter Eleven
Samantha
Sam stretched, coming awake slowly. She could tell it was at least mid-morning by the light slanting through the window of Eli’s hotel suite. She felt sore but relaxed, and flushed as her memory of the prior night came flooding back. It had been the hottest sex of her life, so much more intense than anything she had ever experienced before.
She didn’t have a ton of experience except with her ex and that one crazy night with those two hot cowboys, Jason and Dean. Sweet guys, but even that, while fun, couldn’t hold a candle to what she had experienced and shared with Eli. He had done things to her body last night, had taken her places, she hadn’t thought possible.
“Thank you,” came Eli’s voice, quiet, and then the door to his suite closed. The smell of bacon and coffee floated, tantalizing, to her nose.
“You awake, bimba?” Eli called out as he set a large breakfast tray on the table.
“I am,” she said, sitting up. She smiled at the sight Eli made as he organized their breakfast on the table, clad in a pair of light blue cotton pajama pants. The pants were loose and hung low on his hips, showing off the hard planes of muscle. She sank deeper into the pillow and simply watched him: he was beautiful, tall, all bronzed skin and dark hair, curly from sleep and her fingers the night before.
The floppy hair and relaxed stance made him seem younger, somehow. She knew, especially after what he’d revealed about his family and their lifestyle, that he wasn’t all that young, that what he’d been through with and because of his family had probably aged him. But just then, he looked youthful, happy and as always, so so sexy.
“Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to come eat some breakfast with me?”
Samantha jolted a little and flushed a deep pink at being caught, checking him out. Eli caught her gaze, a sly grin on his face, and sat at the table.
“Come on, bimba, get out of bed and eat with me. I know you’re famished. Roxy called and demanded you meet her at the pool in exactly two hours. I’m to make myself scarce– she needs, and I quote, ‘girl time,’” Eli finished using his hands to make air quotes. His smile sent warmth through her, and spark of desire, as well.
Sam broke eye contact first, sitting up and reaching for the fluffy white robe at the foot of the bed. It was the robe that belonged to the hotel, obviously, but Sam knew Eli had worn it recently: it smelled like him, and she couldn’t stop herself from pressing her face into the fluffy material and taking a deep breath.
When she’d huffed her fill of his addictive scent, Sam stood and donned the robe, but before she could take a seat, Eli seized her around the waist and pulled her into his lap instead.
“Hey!” she cried and wrapped her arms around his neck to maintain her balance.
“I’ve got you, bimba. I promise I’ll never let you fall in my presence.”
Sam searched his eyes, brown with flecks of gold, for some indication of what he was thinking. Even just yesterday he had kept part of himself hidden from her, but since last night that curtain had fallen away. Sam cupped his cheek, the stubble rough against her palm, and almost sighed out loud when he leaned his head into her hand like a cat in search of a petting. Instead, she kissed him softly. The kiss felt like a benediction. This was much, much more than just a vacation fling, and Sam knew it in her soul.
Eli brought the kiss to a close and leaned his forehead against hers.
“Bimba, if you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to drag you back to bed and make Roxy very mad at me, and I don’t want that at all. She frightens me a little.”
Sam threw her head back and laughed. Reluctantly, she untangled herself from his lap and sat in her own chair. She took the cloche off her plate, revealing the welcome sight of eggs, bacon, and waffles. There was even a bowl of fresh fruit.
“She’s not that bad, but you’re smart not to make an enemy of her,” Sam teased and took a bite of her bacon.
“I know a dangerous person when I see one,” Eli said seriously, but his eyes twinkled.
“Oh, yes, it’s why I was happy she befriended me. She scared me a little, too,” Sam teased right back.
Their breakfast continued much in the same vein, playful words and heated glances. Maybe a stolen kiss or five. Eventually, though, Eli was walking her back to her room to shower and change into her swimsuit. He kissed her goodbye with a promise to find her at the pool in a few hours, and then they could all figure out dinner.
Sam sighed when she closed the door, because she was in so much trouble. She was falling in love with Eli, and falling hard.
The next twelve days were nothing short of incredible. Sam didn’t spend another night in her room with Roxy; all of her nights were spent with Eli. Passionate, amazing nights. He made love to her with such intensity she was not sure she could keep up, but somewhere within her she found a well of stamina that let her match his enthusiasm every time. And, importantly, Eli seemed nothing but pleased with her in bed. A welcome change from Rick, who’d never done anything but find fault in her technique, her responses, her body.
And it wasn’t just the sex; it was the lazy days on the beach, or shopping in town, or going to a museum where he translated everything for her in an unbearably sexy accent. She felt a peace when she was with Eli she hadn’t felt before, a belonging, and Sam thought maybe he felt it, too.
Sometimes she would catch him staring at her, a small smile on his lips and an inscrutable look in his eyes, but he didn’t duck her gaze when she caught him. No, his smile got bigger and he would kiss her hand or her cheek, whisper ‘bimba’, and then the moment would be over.
Sam was afraid to ask what would happen when they departed Costa Rica. Her flight was the next afternoon and his the following day, but she needed to know. She pushed her food around on her plate for at least twenty minutes, trying to gather needed courage.
“Samantha,” Eli said, and she looked up, startled; he so very rarely used her first name that she was worried. “Bimba, you haven’t eaten a bite. Are you okay?” he asked and kissed her fingers before threading them with his.
“I am, I’m just…” she trailed off, unsure.
“You’re what?” he prompted with a soft smile, one she only half-heartedly returned.
“I’m wondering what happens after this,” she said finally, feeling herself almost cringe away from the negative answer she expected.
But he was smiling, a big, broad, radiant smile.
“Well, I was hoping you’d let me date you.” He said it so easily, so simply, that Sam didn’t know what she had been
so worried about.
“I’d like that,” she told him, smiling as relief flooded her.
He nodded, his dark hair falling in his eyes again. “Yes, we could–” Eli halted, and the blood seemed to drain from his face, his eyes growing cold in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“Eli? What’s wrong?” She turned to look behind her, where Eli’s gaze was aimed– and saw a well-dressed man in a dark suit and sunglasses heading their way.
“Sam, go into the hotel. Go to my room and wait,” he told her urgently, pulling her to stand.
She looked back at Eli, concerned. “I don’t underst–”
“Elias,” a cold voice cut her off and she turned again– now the man was standing right behind her. He was at least as tall as Eli, a little taller, maybe. They shared the same golden complexion and dark hair. His is even cut in a similar way, short on the side and a little longer on top, although his was slicked back, adding to the hard, dangerous look of him. He had tattoos on both his hands and fingers and even one on his neck, the same tattoo of the eagle and the spears Eli had on his chest. She couldn’t see his eyes, but something in Sam knew that if he took off his dark sunglasses, she would find eyes like Eli’s.
This was one of his brothers.
“Dante,” Eli replied, just as coldly, and Sam looked to Eli for direction. He looked apprehensive and angry, and she could guess why. He had left their family; to be hunted down like a rebellious teenager must have grated on him.
Eli turned to her and smiled. It wasn’t his genuine smile, the one that took up his whole face and shined through his eyes. This one was practiced and fake. This wasn’t her Eli. This was Elias de Ruggiero, a man she didn’t know at all.
“Sam, why don’t you go back to the room? I’ll be up soon,” he said, and she nodded. She normally didn’t like being dismissed, but she also really didn’t want to stay for the confrontation between the brothers, either. Some primitive part of her brain warned her to be afraid of this man.
“Now, Elias, don't be rude. Introduce me to the beautiful lady,” Dante said smoothly and smiled at her, a smile almost completely devoid of real sentiment. He reminded her of a shark, beautiful and powerful, but deadly. You couldn’t hate a shark for being what it was, and Dante was dangerous. She would know that even if she hadn’t known about their family already.
Sam looked back to Eli, hoping for some guidance about how to handle the situation, but it was as if a curtain had fallen behind his eyes. She couldn’t read him at all. The muscle in his jaw twitched; he was clearly holding back powerful emotion. Sam shifted on her feet, a nervous habit, unable to keep still in a situation so tense.
“Dante, this is Samantha,. Samantha, this is my brother, Dante,” Eli bit out coolly.
Sam gave Dante her most pleasant, practiced smile. She wasn’t the best of liars, and she was worried and a little scared, but she would not show her fear to this man. She would not churn the waters for the shark.
“Nice to meet you, Dante,” she said politely and Dante pushed his sunglasses up onto his head to reveal the same brown eyes Eli had. They were obviously brothers, both tall and handsome, but Dante’s eyes were flat, almost completely expressionless. She had to restrain herself from yanking her hand out of his when he took it and kissed the back of it.
“I’ve never met a woman my brother had an interest in before, and I must commend his taste. You are lovely, Samantha,” Dante said, releasing her hand, and Sam’s blood ran cold. There was menace behind his bland expression. She had to get out of there.
“Well, I will leave you two to chat,” she blurted, jerking her hand from his grasp, but Dante smoothly stepped into her path, preventing her from leaving.
“No, stay and chat. I would love to get to know the kind of woman that kept my brother from his own grandfather’s funeral.” His charming, empty smile turned bitter, his mellow tone showing venom behind his words.
“Dante, it wasn’t because of Sam that I didn’t go to the funeral,” Eli said, his voice low and quick and urgent. He grasped Sam’s hand, pulling her free of Dante’s grasp. She knew she was only able to step closer to Eli’s side because Dante permitted it. “It was because I’ve already said my goodbyes to the family. To all of you.”
“Hmmmm,” Dante said rubbing his chin, “I’m not so sure, brother. Besides, you don’t get to be done with family. Sam, certainly you wouldn’t be attracted to such a faithless man.” Dante spoke to her, but his eyes remained on his brother.
“I think loyalty is earned, and not through manipulation,” Sam said hesitantly. She was growing angry; Dante was vile. How could two such different men share the same genetic information? Eli had his dark places, Sam was aware, but Dante was all dark, all manipulation, no kindness or conscience at all.
Sam leaned up and kissed Eli softly, trying to pour all her love and caring into the soft, quick press of lips.
“I think I’ll head back to the hotel, the sun is getting to me,” she said when she pulled away, happy when the softness returned to his eyes. She turned to Dante and gave him a smile, too, one as cold as the one for his brother had been warm. “Dante, it was good to meet you. I will leave you both to talk,” she said, her words allowing for no argument.
Something like respect seemed to come to Dante’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly that Sam was sure she imagined it.
“Samantha, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in the sun. Of course you must go inside. It was lovely to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
She turned away, cupping Eli’s cheek for a moment and then heading into the hotel. She didn’t turn back and look at the men, so alike in looks but so different in everything else. Sam had met true danger now, and that wasn’t Eli.
She hoped she never saw Dante di Ruggiero ever again.
Chapter Twelve
Eli
Eli watched Sam walk away at a measured pace, never revealing the fear and tension he knew she was feeling. His girl was an open book to him and he could sense the worry coming off of her in waves, but it didn’t stop her from comforting him. That simple touch to his face and the expression in her eyes was enough. She was his light, his fucking guiding star. He wouldn’t let the darkness of his family touch her.
“She’s a sexy one. You seem… interested in her,” Dante drawled, his words like a bucket of ice on Elie’s soul.
Eli turned and found him himself pinned beneath Dante’s gaze. Fuck, he didn’t want his brother to know how much he cared for Sam. Giving Dante any kind of personal information was dangerous. His brother didn’t understand love the way most people did; he was too much like their father, equating loyalty with love, and in Dante’s eyes, Eli had betrayed the family by leaving.
Oh, Dante wouldn’t let anyone else hurt Eli, and by extension the woman he cared for. Eli was still a di Ruggiero, after all. No, Dante would do the hurting himself, and feel it justified as a deserved punishment.
“Psh, she’s nothing. A simple vacation hookup,” Eli replied, his words purposely flippant, but Dante’s eyes only narrowed. He laughed and sat at the table, gesturing for Eli to sit, as well.
“Elias, when are you going to learn you cannot lie to your older brother?” Dante’s voice was measured, the words cool, lacking any familial closeness. It was as if Eli was an employee or customer, and they were talking about the weather. Eli’s blood ran cold. Anger would’ve been better. Anything would have been better, besides this frozen hardness.
“Why are you here, Dante? Has something happened? Are Marco and Mattie okay?” Marco and Matteo, or Mattie as everyone called him, were his younger brothers. Mattie was only 21 and yet already neck-deep in the family business.
Dante waved his hand, dismissing his worries, and called a waitress over. He ordered scotch for both of them, charging it to Eli’s room.
Asshole, Eli thought as the waiter walked away.
“Then why did you follow me to Costa Rica? How did you even know I was here?” Eli’s concerns were mounting
fast.
Dante shook his head with a predatory smile. “Dear brother, if you don’t think I can’t find where you are at any moment of any day, you are seriously deluded.”
The waiter arrived with their drinks. Eli took a sip of the amber liquor, letting its burn in his throat ground him. He had known cutting ties would be difficult, but he had honestly thought the worst was behind him. He had believed he could move across the country and be free, could live a life of his own choosing. A safe life, a life he was imagining Sam part of, but Dante’s presence had changed that. His arrival at the resort proved Eli would never be safe from them. More importantly, he couldn’t protect Sam from the. He was them; they were his family. Inescapable, to the end.
Dante sipped from his glass and shrugged. “I had a business meeting in Panama. I won’t tell you about it. I know the business that paid for your fancy schools and kept you fed and clothed growing up turns your stomach now.”
Eli opened his mouth to say something, he felt he should argue, but it was true; the family business did, in fact, turn his stomach.
“Elias, it’s okay. I understand. You always were a bit more...” Dante waved his hand in the air, trying to find the word.
“Soft?” Eli offered, his voice full of scorn, and Dante’s sharp eyes narrowed.
“Cerebral,” Dante said instead, and Eli hid his surprise behind another mouthful of scotch.
“I don’t hate you, Elias. None of us do. I’m disappointed, but unsurprised by your choices.” His words confused Eli.
“I was so sure you hated me,” Eli said, stunned by how much it hurt to know he’d disappointed two of the most important men in his life.
“Never. You’re my brother,” said Dante, and Eli started to smile. “But I need you to handle Papa’s first appeal,” he continued, and the smile faded. Dante was Dante after all, a manipulative bastard. He knew Eli desired forgiveness, and this was his way to reel him back in.
