by Aly Martinez
When we finally made it inside, Raíces was strangely empty. The place wasn’t usually packed, but it was never a ghost town. I had a sneaking suspicion Devon wasn’t paying for our dinner as he stood with the owner, swiping a black American Express.
I gave Levee a suspicious glance as she peeked up at me through her lashes, embarrassed. Tossing her a reassuring smile, I kissed the top of her head. It wasn’t like I was going to complain about some quiet time.
Two beers, three sangrias, and an order of mofongo and plantain chips later, I was sitting across the table from one of the biggest celebrities in the music industry.
But that wasn’t why my cheeks hurt from smiling. Or why my hands itched to touch her. Or why I had forgotten about the entire world outside that restaurant.
Of course I’d been shocked when Levee had pulled her sunglasses off, but really, I’d been just so fucking relieved that her life wasn’t nearly as hard as I had speculated over the last week. It was a huge burden off my shoulders for me to know that she had the money and support system in place to take care of her issues. She wasn’t some lonely woman navigating life alone. Kidnapping wouldn’t be necessary. I could focus on getting to know the real person behind the shades. The one I had so fiercely connected with over the last week.
“You can’t hold that against me. I mean, I like your music too. I was trying to be honest.” I laughed as her mouth hung open in mock horror.
Clinking her glass of sangria against my beer, she said, “I can’t believe you like Henry more than me! Well, I guess the good news is that Henry would probably prefer you over me too.”
“Hey! I’m not gay. I just said I like one of his songs. One.” I waved a single finger in her direction.
“Seriously, this is the story of my life. He’s going to try to woo you.”
I stabbed my thumb toward my chest. “Straight.”
“Oh please. Far bigger men than you have swapped teams for Henry.”
“Okay, slow down there, princess. No one is switching teams. I’m trying to woo you with cheap sangria right now. One step at a time, please.”
“I swear to God, Sam. Stop calling me princess,” she demanded, but one corner of her lips twitched. And I only noticed it because I was watching her mouth—intently.
“It’s just… Designer Shoes doesn’t have the same oomph to it.”
“You’ve spent the last week trying to get my name. Use it,” she snapped but hid her amusement by lifting the glass to her lips.
Reaching across the table, I pressed up on the bottom of her drink. “Clearly, with that attitude, you haven’t been wooed properly. You should have more.”
“Stop,” she laughed, spilling the red liquid down her chin as she fought to set the glass back down.
After nabbing my napkin, I wiped it off her face while she cleaned it from her lap.
“Great,” she said. “I’m a mess now.”
“Well, that just makes us a matching pair.” I pointed to my shirt where, earlier, she had accidently flung sauce on me.
“I told you I was sorry. That plantain chip went rogue. You can’t hold me responsible for that.”
I shook my head, sliding my hand across the table to intertwine our fingers.
Staring down at our joined hands, she whispered, “This is fun.”
I gave her a squeeze. She wasn’t wrong. It was, by far, the best night I’d had in as long as I could remember. Amazing. Yes. Surreal. Incredibly. I could easily go so far as to say great.
Conversation flowed easily. She made me laugh, and I made her scowl—then laugh. We didn’t talk about the heavy. I didn’t ask her why she was on that bridge every night, and she didn’t ask me, either. We just bullshitted like old friends.
It was great.
She was great.
I had an overwhelming need to keep her great.
“What’s your last name?” she asked, dropping her napkin on the table.
“Rivers.”
“Shut up. I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I dragged a rePURPOSEd card from my wallet and slid it across the table. “Just think how fun your name would be if we got married.” I winked.
She glared.
“What? Too soon?”
“By, like, ten years.”
“Ten years? The sangria is not that bad.” I feigned injury.
She barked a laugh. “So, tell me about rePURPOSEd?”
“I take junk, repurpose it, then sell it as new. Too easy. Rich people love it.” I paused. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“Guitar bookshelves?”
“Yep.”
She flipped my hand over and traced a finger around the cut on my palm. Tingles radiated out from her touch. I was done keeping my hands to myself. I desperately wanted the connection the table had been denying me all night.
Pushing my chair away, I gave her hand a squeeze. “C’mere.”
Her cheeks pinked as she stood and slowly closed the distance between us. With a quick tug, I pulled her off-balance and into my lap.
Tucking a stray curl behind her ear, I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip. I leaned in for a welcomed taste, and the sweet fruit from the sangria covered the mango I’d come to expect. “I want to see you again.”
A shy-schoolgirl blush tinted her cheeks even darker. “We do kinda have a standing date for tomorrow night on the bridge.”
“That’s not what I mean.” I glided a hand up her back, and as if she had been waiting for a sign, hers seductively slid under the edge of my shirt. Her smooth fingers teasing my skin stole my breath. I gasped and caught her wrist. “I want to see you again, but not on the bridge.”
“Okay,” she whispered, brushing her lips against mine.
She was squirming on my lap. I couldn’t be responsible for the stir of my cock—or the way she seemed to approve by shifting her weight to press against it. I scanned the room, suddenly aware that I was about to maul her in public, and caught sight of Devon escorting our waitress and the owner into the kitchen.
Maybe he is good for something.
With our audience gone, I took her mouth indecently. She responded by straddling my lap, her dress inching up as she planted her core directly over my zipper. I groaned and thrust a hand into her hair, pulling her head back and moving my assault to her neck.
“You drunk?” I asked between nips.
“A little,” she moaned, grinding a circle in my lap.
Fuck. Me.
“I see my wooing worked.”
She turned her head to the side, encouraging me to continue.
God, did I want to continue. Just not in the middle of a restaurant with a room full of people corralled in the kitchen. But how could I get her anywhere else without looking like a jackass who was just trying to sleep with the celebrity? I knew the girl on the bridge, and everyone knew Levee Williams. But I needed her to get to know Sam Rivers…fast.
Palming each side of her face, I dropped my forehead to hers. “I’m about to make things awkward. It’s kinda what I do. Just bear with me.”
She licked her lips, and I was forced to kiss her again. When I finally came back up for air, I continued.
“My name is Samuel Nathan Rivers. I’m twenty-seven. Aquarius. No criminal history. I have a clean bill of health. I’m a democrat, but for God’s sake, do not tell my mom. I own a furniture shop and clear six figures a year. I’m not interested in your money. I’ll show you my tax return if need be. I’m also not a super-fan interested in your fame. But, for the love of all that’s holy, I need you, Designer Shoes, to come home with me.”
Her eyes lit. “Devon would have a stroke.” She pushed my hands off her face in order to take my mouth again.
A frustrated growl rumbled in my chest. My cock wasn’t concerned in the least about Devon’s health.
“Levee,” I grumbled as she folded her arms around my shoulders, pressing her chest against mine. “Devon can—”
“But you can come home with me.”
>
God fucking bless America.
Suddenly, I rose to my feet with her still wrapped around me. “Check please,” I called out loudly, digging into my back pocket for my wallet with one hand while she clung to me, giggling.
I couldn’t help my smile as she buried her face in my neck and slid down to the ground.
“I’m going to the restroom. If you must, now’s the time to smoke. I don’t want you to have a heart attack before I get you naked.” She innocently batted her eyelashes at me as if she hadn’t just whispered sweet nothings directly to my cock.
I bit my lip, watching her ass sway as she walked away.
Scrubbing my face, I tried to get myself together while fighting the biggest shit-eating grin known to man. When I looked up, Devon was glowering at me with his arms crossed over his massive chest.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I told him as I tossed a wad of cash on the table.
“I don’t fucking like this,” he snarled. “She’s drunk and not thinking straight.”
“She’s tipsy,” I amended—just as much for him as for me.
She isn’t really drunk. Is she?
Whatever. I was a stand-up guy. I liked her, and judging by the way she had been rolling her body against mine, she liked at least part of me, too.
“Look, man. I realize this is the first time we’ve met, but Levee and I have been seeing each other for the last week…. Kinda. Or…something like that.” I scratched the back of my head. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Bullshit,” he growled.
I pointedly lifted my eyebrows. “You know what you do need to worry about though? Her going up that bridge every night. One of these days, she’s not going to come back down if you don’t do something about it.”
“Excuse me?” He took a menacing step in my direction.
I stole a glance around him at the empty hall Levee had disappeared down. “Look, you did not hear this from me, but I know for a fact that she’s considered jumping. I’m not sure if she’s suicidal or just depressed, but she needs help. I’m doing what I can to keep her walking down every night, but I need you to get word to her family or whoever she’s close to that she needs serious help.”
“No way,” he scoffed, but I could tell his gears were spinning.
“I like her, okay? A lot. Even before I knew her name. But I don’t know her like you do. I can only do so much.”
He narrowed his eyes and stared at me suspiciously, but the seed had been planted.
“Do not take her back to that bridge alone anymore. If I’m there, I’ll take care of her. I swear. But if I’m not, you drive her anywhere in the world but that bridge.” I held his stare, trying to transfer the truth. He had no reason to trust me, but he also had no reason not to.
Finally, his shoulders slacked and he thrust a rough hand into his jet-black hair. “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath.
I heard the door to the bathroom open, so I busied myself by digging my cigarettes out of my pocket. “She just needs help,” I whispered one last time.
“I’ll take care of it,” he responded, still notably shocked, but my anxiety melted away.
I was going to do whatever I had to do to make sure Levee never stepped off that bridge, but it was no longer my sole responsibility. I didn’t know where this thing with her was going. She could disappear on me tomorrow, but now, I could sleep easier knowing that someone else knew what was going on in her head.
I would have killed for that tip about Anne.
“Hey, beautiful,” I purred as Levee rounded the corner, her eyes flashing between Devon and me.
“Everything okay?” she asked with freshly painted-red lips.
“It is now.” After looping an arm around her waist, I pulled her against me and kissed her cheek, catching a whiff of fresh mango on her breath when she sighed. “I’m going to smoke. I’ll meet you in the car.” Tossing her a wink, I slid my hand down to her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze before sauntering out the back door.
Levee
I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I couldn’t even explain it to myself. But I knew that, if I didn’t strip Sam Rivers naked in the next thirty minutes, I was going to implode. I hadn’t been with anyone in well over a year, and while I could easily blame my insatiable desire on being hard up, that would have been a complete and utter lie.
I’d spent the last few hours staring at various parts of his body until I had been physically unable to take it anymore. Whether it was his inked forearms, which flexed each time he lifted that beer, the way those plump lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle, or even the way he purposely raked his teeth over his bottom lip each time he placed it back on the table, I had no idea. But watching that man drink a fucking beer, much less two of them, had been damn near excruciating. He’d talked and made jokes while I’d dreamed about his callused hands gliding over my skin. That had been the easy part though. He was rugged and gorgeous. I couldn’t help but to be physically attracted to him.
The hard part was when I envisioned Sam actually wanting to stay with me once the novelty was gone. My life was chaotic, and not just because I lived it in the public eye. I brought on most of the craziness myself, exhausting myself on stage, existing on nourishment from vending machines, and fighting back tears at the bedsides of dying children.
But that night with Sam, my life didn’t seem so overwhelming.
Maybe it was the sangria, but I thought it had more to do with him.
I wasn’t usually the type of girl to take a man home, but Sam did things to me, most of which started with his mouth, and as I watched his lean body strolling back to my car, I hoped they all ended that way, too.
I didn’t want to get laid just to share an orgasm with another warm body.
I wanted Sam.
All of him.
But I really just wanted to keep him.
“Fuck,” he bit out as I slung my leg over his hips the moment his ass touched the leather seat.
I silenced him with my mouth, gliding a hand up his nape and into his hair. His dick became beautifully thick between us.
“Levee, wait,” he moaned into my mouth, but he palmed my ass, rocking me forward. “Wait. Wait. Wait. Not here.”
“Yeah. Please not here,” Devon deadpanned from the front as he pulled out of the parking lot.
I laughed and rested my head on Sam’s shoulder. I wasn’t embarrassed. It was Devon. I’d done full wardrobe changes in the back of that SUV. He’d caught more than an eyeful of me, but never like that. When it came to transportation, though, I didn’t have any options. Huffing, I cursed my lack of a driver’s license and my inability to leave the house alone.
“Look at me.” Sam tipped my chin up to study my eyes. “How far away is your place?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Shit,” he huffed. “And, just so we’re clear, we can’t go back to my place? It’s, like, two miles away.”
I opened my mouth, but Devon got there first.
“Not a chance in hell.”
Smiling, I lowered my voice to a whisper, “He has a really scary vein on his forehead that’s probably twitching right about now.”
Sam rolled his eyes then sighed. “Put your head in my lap.”
My eyes flashed wide in surprise. And, okay fine…excitement.
“Jesus Christ. Don’t look at me like that. I just mean lie down and take a nap, something—anything—that doesn’t involve you straddling me. Mind if I smoke in here?”
“Yes. I do,” Devon snapped.
Shaking my head, I cracked the window and reluctantly crawled into the seat beside him. “Nah. Go ahead.”
I didn’t take a nap, but I did lay my head in his lap. Then I watched as he chain-smoked the entire way back to my house, perhaps while dragging a fingernail up and down the seam of his jeans. Maybe.
Definitely.
Chapter Nine
Levee
“THANK FUCK!” SAM said, swinging the door op
en before Devon even had the car in park.
“Oh, this isn’t my place. We’re just dropping Devon off. I’m about twenty minutes across town?” I tossed him a sugary smile then boldly shifted my hand into his lap, purposely brushing the bulge under his denim.
Grabbing my wrist, he narrowed his eyes and called out, “Devon, I’m gonna need to borrow a bedroom.”
I burst out laughing as Devon cursed loudly.
“Fine. This is my place. No smoking inside though,” I snipped as I climbed from the SUV.
“You better have some seriously exciting extracurricular activities to keep me distracted, then.”
“I have Ping-Pong!”
“Not exactly what I was thinking.” He mischievously cocked his head. “But I guess paddles and balls are as good a start as any.” Dipping down, he hoisted me over his shoulder. “Point me to the Ping-Pong table, my lady.”
I didn’t. I laughed hysterically as he carried me inside. Then I directed him to my bedroom instead.
I heard Devon locking up the house as Sam deposited me on the bed.
“Jesus. This view.” He pushed the curtains back. “Why the hell would you ever go up to the bridge when you have this here?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, pulling my earrings off and placing them on my nightstand.
Oh, but I knew. It might not have been what had originally sent me up that bridge, but it was why my feet carried me back every night. And that very reason was currently standing in front of me with entirely too much clothing on.
“You want a beer?” I asked, sliding my shoes off.
“Nah, I’m good.” He faced me, and I could tell something was off with his demeanor. He didn’t inch any closer. Instead, his lips were tight and his eyes uncomfortably flashed around the room.
It suddenly didn’t feel like Sam standing in front of me at all.
He felt like a stranger who had just come face-to-face with Levee Williams.
Damn it.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Are you about to freak out?” I whispered, nervously moistening my lips.
