NEXT TO ME (A Love Happens Novel Book 1)

by Watters, Jodi

  “Oh, it’s the second box from the bulk case I bought at Costco.” He froze, the look on his face priceless, and she laughed at his momentarily stunned expression. “You deserved that.”

  His grin was cocky as he quickly slid the latex on. “Count on me using every last one of these, then. And more.”

  Stilling for a moment as if he was enjoying the view, his molten gray eyes licked over her body, pausing at her breasts and between her legs, and Ali nearly begged him to fuck her. The graphic thought was so unlike her, as was the absolute desire coursing heavily through her veins, making her entire body vibrate in need. She held out her hand, silently asking him to come to her, opening her legs wide in invitation.

  He was on her instantly and she welcomed the weight of his big body as he entered her slowly. Her gasp of admiration at his considerable size turned into a whimper, then a moan as he slid his hard length fully inside her, filling her to overflowing. Stretching her wide as her snug body accepted him.

  “Jesus, that’s good. So tight,” he groaned, his mouth on hers, their eyes connecting. “I’m not gonna last. Not this first time, anyway. You taste so damn good, I’m fucking lucky I made it this far without losing it.”

  His movements were smooth, his rhythm and angle perfect as she adjusted to him, but he was moving way too slow.

  “Sam, please. I…” Ali wasn’t used to all this talk during sex, but his hot, hushed words were fueling her desire, lessening her inhibition.

  “What? Tell me what you need, babe.” His hand gripped her hip and he pulled her tighter to him, their bodies moving in sync. “Tell me how you want it.”

  She wrapped her legs around him with a moan of surrender, pulling him even closer. “Faster,” she whispered against his neck, hiding her embarrassment. “Hard. Harder.”

  His lusty growl made her embarrassment fade and he shifted, pushing her knees up against her chest, exposing her to his hot gaze and his pounding thrusts. This was what she needed. It was straight up raw. Earthy and elemental. Real.

  “Good?” He ran his finger down the side of her cheek and kissed her temple, the touch tender and sweet, at odds with the unrelenting force of his thrusts.

  As if her repeated ooh’s and aah’s weren’t an obvious sign. “So good. The best ever.”

  Letting out a low growl, he dragged his hand down the valley between her breasts and over the quivering skin of her belly, fingers delving between her legs to flicker softly over her hypersensitive button. The simple touch, along with the substantial feel of him moving deeply inside her, set her off and her body clamped down on him in pulsing waves. Ali moaned at the unexpected bliss and bit his tattooed shoulder, whimpering in surprise and gratitude.

  One orgasm was fantastic, two was a record.

  Sam’s own long, harsh groan vibrated against her neck as his big body tensed and he stroked deep, deeper than ever, once, then again, before collapsing against her.

  Ali kept her eyes closed and happily absorbed his weight, listening as his breath came in choppy pants before slowly evening out. She slid a hand up his spine to rub the dark hair at the nape of his neck, pressing her lips against his earlobe and kissing him softly.

  His hips surged against hers at the touch.

  “No...” she complained, a few minutes later. Tightening her legs around him when he shifted to pull away. Stay here. Stay with me. Stay forever.

  “Have to, babe. This is gonna get messy soon.”

  Oh. Nothing like the details surrounding birth control to keep a girl grounded.

  The feel of him leaving her body, then leaving her bed to disappear into the bathroom, made Ali feel exposed. And more importantly, uncertain. How exactly did this usually go? Should she ask him to stay the night or say her thank you’s and walk him to the door? Maybe make an appointment for tomorrow? Pencil him into her schedule for a hot and sweaty bang, same time, same place, kind of thing?

  In any case, she wasn’t doing it naked. Quickly scrambling out of the bed, a lingering and delightful soreness already beginning between her thighs, Ali grabbed her panties and searched for her bra, remembering a second later that it was on the kitchen floor. Her face reddened in embarrassment.

  Dashing down the stairs, she saw the evidence of her wanton behavior lying like a scarlet letter on the floor next to Sam’s black t-shirt. She was stuffing herself into the ridiculously tiny contraption when she heard a whimper near the door.

  “Pete! Oh, my God, we forgot about you.” Disengaging the alarm, Ali slid the sliding glass door open a foot, just enough for the puppy to squeeze through, and watched him disappear down the wooden steps and into the darkness of the deserted beach. She hoped to high hell he knew how to find his way back.

  The temperature had dropped several degrees and she shivered, pulling her thin shirt on, hoping for protection against more than the chill in the air. The voice in her head mocked her, warning that the handsome man currently naked in her bedroom could end up being more dangerous to her well being than the soul sucking weasel she wanted him to protect her against. What had just happened with Sam was a watershed moment for Ali. She’d never been so caught up in sex that she could let herself go and not only enjoy it, but rejoice in the physical pleasure a man could give her. Revel in the closeness, the connection and the power that a woman felt when she took a worthy man into her body.

  No, not just any man. Sam. And only him.

  The red-hot consummation they’d just shared wasn’t anything Ali believed could ever happen to her. It was straight out of the naughty historical romances she would secretly read when she was sixteen, cautiously hiding the forbidden paperbacks from her mama. And she wasn’t just talking about the multiple orgasms, although that was a very welcome side effect. Maybe this was normal for Sam. Maybe all his bed partners were as blown away by his mad skills and equipment as Ali was. But for her, this went beyond a good time and straight into the unfamiliar time of her life territory. And just the thought of him with another woman left her feeling bereft and jealous. The hair-pulling, nail-scratching, slap-a-bitch kind of jealous. And those emotions had no part in this.

  Because this was all part of her plan.

  She should be happy, or relieved at the very least, to know that she had successfully completed step one, getting Sam Gleeson to sleep with her. And her intuition told her that he actually liked her. But this was vastly harder than Ali thought it would be. It felt dirty. And not just because she had used her body in exchange for something Sam was completely unaware she needed from him. It was because she had tainted the most explosive and unmistakably special sexual experience of her life. She wanted to get to know him, this gorgeous and funny and seemingly perfect guy. Did he drink orange juice straight out of the carton? Did he shave in the shower or over the bathroom sink? Did he instinctively smile at the sound of a giggling baby? Did this invisible connection that seemed to spark between them go beyond the bedroom? He might answer her if she asked him those questions, and any others, too. But then he would ask some of his own and Ali didn’t want to measure her words. She didn’t want to stretch the truth to suit the conversation and her purpose.

  She didn’t want to lie to him. At least not any more than she had already.

  A far cry from the heavily populated city of Chicago, Ali had been born and raised in a one horse town tucked into the panhandle of Oklahoma, where nobody was anonymous. And she had never in all her life stepped foot in the state of Michigan. Instead, she had studied her tail off throughout high school, earning a rare full ride scholarship to attend New York University, a college her hard working, middle class parents could never have paid for themselves. Yes, she wrote true crime books, that part was all true. It had just been a very long time since she’d done so. Danny didn’t think it was becoming of a proper lady. He also didn’t think she should promote the gory and unspeakable crimes of murderers, servants of Satan he’d called them, and demanded she write about topics more appropriate for the wife a corporate lawyer. Maybe closet organ
ization or party planning. Or better yet, give up her career altogether and find a pet charity to support.

  Wife. That little lie had rolled off her tongue with difficulty, but what choice did she have? There was no way she could risk telling Sam the truth. It was too likely he would run—

  “You’re dressed?”

  “Jesus!” She jumped at the sudden sound of his voice behind her. “Sam! Damn it, you scared the hell out of me.”

  “I called your name.” He held his hands out briefly and glanced around the room. “Who else would be in here? You keep this place on permanent lock down. And has anyone ever told you that you have the mouth of a sailor?”

  Hand over her racing heart, Ali gave a half laugh, her instant panic slowly turning into appreciation. Now that her near coronary had passed and her blood pressure returned to normal, she realized he was standing before her naked as the day he was born, walking around her house as if it was no big deal. The man could pull it off, too.

  The puppy bounded past her before she could utter another word, running back into the house at the sound of Sam’s voice, and he stepped around her to close and lock the patio door.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped around a small grin, “anybody could see you.”

  “There’s nobody out there, Ali. And I’m far more concerned with your naked body, or lack thereof, than mine.” Reaching out, he pulled her close to his warmth, tipping her chin up with a finger. “Don’t ask me to leave, babe. I didn’t plan on this happening tonight. Hell, I didn’t even bring condoms with me so you know it’s true. And despite the fact that it was just a short twenty-four hours ago that you were forced to tell me your name on the beach...” Her grin mimicked his. “I’m glad that it happened. Really glad.” He kissed her sweetly then, his lips clinging to hers before his tongue swept in, teasing her with his spicy taste. “I don’t want to go. But if you want me to, I will.”

  Ali knew she should send him home. If he left wanting more, it would help to keep him in line and sniffing around, waiting for her to give him the green light while she held all the cards and waited Danny out. Wasn’t that straight out of the Seduction 101 handbook? Unfortunately, Ali had zero ability to resist the man. With his buff and bare body lined up against hers, any grip she might still have on her convoluted reality went out the window.

  And a girl couldn’t be expected to say no to all that glorious beefcake, anyway.

  “Just so we’re clear,” she smiled against his lips as she returned his kisses, “I’m only saying yes because you’re naked. I can’t come up with any other reasons why I shouldn’t send you packing. And I sleep on the right side of the bed.”

  “None, huh?” He chuckled as he guided her up the stairs, pausing twice to kiss her senseless and remove the clothes she had rushed to put on. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to make an impression. I’ll even let you have the right side, too.”

  Ali snorted. “If you work much harder, I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. As it stands, you’re now the sole titleholder as the giver of multiple orgasms. And isn’t it convenient that you prefer the left side of the bed?” She bit him lightly, nibbling along his whiskered jaw line. “It’s like kismet.”

  He swatted her bare ass lightly in response to the sarcastic comment and moved her that much closer to the bedroom. “I didn’t say I preferred the left side. I said I would let you have the right side, and since that’s where I sleep, too, it works out just fine for me. You get to be on top.”

  A tingle spread low in her belly at the possibilities and this time, she was the one pushing him down on the bed.

  His grin was wolfish when he pulled her down with him, adding, “And if you think only two orgasms mean multiple, you’re about to be schooled, babe.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Well, somebody’s in a better mood than usual this morning.” Grady’s voice followed Sam as he walked through the small lobby of Scorpio Securities, passing the receptionist’s desk where Grady was currently loitering and heading toward his own office at the end of the wide hallway. Pete trailed happily behind him.

  Apparently he needed to have an uncomfortable discussion regarding the company’s sexual harassment policy with Grady again, who seemed to enjoy skirting the fine line between friendly conversation between co-workers and all out flirting. And speaking of skirts, his latest receptionist, sent by the temporary agency he and Ash had been forced to hire three months ago, was currently wearing one that was on the north side of too short. Sam couldn’t remember her name even though she had told him several times—Buffy or Heidi or Misty, maybe—but she’d been here for the last few weeks and had shown up each day wearing what could only be described as inappropriate office attire. A direct violation of the temp agency’s dress code, he was sure, but Sam wasn’t broaching that topic with a ten foot pole. And since Asher chose the chicken shit way out, which was to keep his eyes upward and stare only at her forehead as he rattled off what needed to be done like a seasoned Drill Sergeant, Sam was left to solve the problem. Making a mental note to call the agency later today and have them discuss halter tops in the workplace with Misty directly, he was beyond grateful that Caroline would be back next week, taking charge of the office again and maintaining the tight ship he preferred. And goddamn, it couldn’t come soon enough.

  Caroline Mendoza’s job title was receptionist slash office manager, but she preferred to think of herself as the boss around here. Sam didn’t disagree because she kept everyone and everything running smoothly, including him and especially Ash, which was why he’d been so pissed when she’d come waltzing into his office one day, a look of irritation on her face.

  “Well, he’s gone and done it again,” she’d said, as she handed him the flash drive containing the blueprints for the Bayside Beach Resort. The Governor’s daughter was getting married at the swanky hotel the following month and Scorpio had the security detail. “He got me knocked up again, Sam. Can you believe it? I think he’s cracking under the pressure of his Catholic mother. That’s who they should send when they need answers from terrorists. The torturous sound of that woman’s voice would make you beg to be waterboarded.” Before he could fully digest the implications of having her out of the office for several weeks in a row, she added, “I told Mike that this baby better be a girl or I’m gonna cut his balls off.”

  A fate much worse than waterboarding.

  Sam had said the appropriate words then, congratulating both her and Mike Mendoza, his long time friend and employee, when what he really wanted to do was bitch and moan about the fact that she wouldn’t be in the office for three months, and instead at home tending to her latest offspring. Not one to waste time, she had immediately marched across the hall to Asher’s office and told him nearly word for word the very same thing. All Sam heard Ash say was, “Christ, doesn’t that guy have any fucking self-control?”

  In the end, they had all managed to make it through the majority of Caroline’s maternity leave without a major incident, although he couldn’t speak for Mike, who should probably be walking around with his hands in front of his lap. Their latest addition was the same as the previous two. Another boy.

  Sam was just sitting down and firing up his laptop when Grady knocked on his open door, a large can of the latest energy drink in his hand as he walked in and plopped down in one of the chairs facing Sam’s desk, his expression curious. “Seriously. You’re smiling. What’s with the good mood?”

  “That stuff will kill you, you know.” Sam ignored the question, nodding toward the can. “That much caffeine at once will make your heart explode.”

  “Speaking of hearts, I’m thinking of asking that cute little heartbreaker out there,” Grady motioned toward the lobby, “to dinner one night.”

  “Not a good idea, Foster. Technically she’s your co-worker and you looked like you were about a wink and an ass slap away from a lawsuit when I walked in. Watch yourself.”

  “So, I probably shouldn’t ask her if she enjoys eating meat?” At Sam�
��s incredulous look, he added, “Hey, I can’t take a vegetarian to a steakhouse, now can I? I won’t get into the specific categories of meat if that’ll make you feel better. You know, chicken breasts and pork cutlets versus, umm, let’s say beef sausage?”

  Unable to hide his grin, Sam shook his head. “Glad you’re stuck back in the sixth grade, man. So how did it go with Dwayne last night? Is he the reason for that gut bomb you’re drinking this morning?”

  “Yeah, he is.” Reaching his hands up straight in the air, Grady stretched his muscled arms and yawned. “And by the way, I’m waiting until Caroline comes back next week before I ask Misty out. Happy, boss man?” At Sam’s quick nod, he continued, “And that punk Dwayne is a shithead. He may be a thousand yard receiver, but I wanted to kick his skinny ass all the way to the Mexican border last night.”

  Sam sat back in his leather office chair, sighing as he dug his fingers into his eye sockets. This was exactly the kind of shit he didn’t need this morning, because despite the potential human resources nightmare with Misty—and who the hell named their daughter that, anyway?—he was in a good mood. A great one, really. And it had everything to do with a girl named Ali.

  The sky had just started to lighten when she’d mumbled a lazy good morning against his scratchy neck, her lush and warm body crawling over top of his, providing him with the most amazing view as she slowly and thoroughly rode him. Without realizing it, she had ensured the sight of her beautiful bare breasts bouncing in tandem with her flared hips would be etched into his brain all day, distracting him from getting any real work done. He’d finally had to drag himself out of her bed just as the sun filtered brightly through the sheer curtains, untangling mile long legs from around his waist. With an unprecedented amount of reluctance, he’d left her house and walked to his own, needing a quick shower before heading to the office.

  When your day started in such spectacular fashion, a guy knew it could only go downhill from there. And Dwayne Jackson was Sam’s latest and greatest pain in the ass. A professional football player for the local San Diego team, Dwayne was talented, wealthy, and used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it. Whether that meant going to San Francisco for caviar and Cristal at midnight or going to Las Vegas for high stakes blackjack at noon, if Dwayne had a hankering to do it, then he did it, entourage in tow. These hankerings of his usually ended with him bellied up to the stage at a local strip joint, classy or otherwise, where he would spend an appalling amount of money on girls named Cinnamon or Bubbles. If these trips meant he missed out on attending his son’s little league game or his daughter’s dance recital—or his wife’s birthday party, for fuck’s sake—then so be it. Living large defined what Dwayne Jackson’s lifestyle was like and it was the job of Scorpio Securities to babysit him. To make sure he didn’t piss the wrong people off when a camera was nearby to record his bad behavior.