He’d put lemon and honey in my tea, just like my mom used to do, and made me drink every last drop. He also made me take cough medicine and a vitamin. By the time I finished, my head lolled against his shoulder, and he held me close, keeping me warm.
I woke up the next morning, still curled in his arms, the shy September sun peeking through the windows. I snuggled closer to him. We’d slept on his couch, which probably hadn’t been the most comfortable experience for him. I enjoyed waking up next to him, my bare legs twined with his. At some point, he’d taken off his suit and now wore only an undershirt and boxers.
His lips immediately went to my forehead, like my mom used to do to check my temperature. “How do you feel?”
I kissed his neck. “Much better.”
“You were burning up last night, but I think you’re okay now.”
He sat up, reached for a thermometer on the coffee table, and made me take my temp. Satisfied I no longer had a raging fever, he let me get up to use the bathroom and gave me a spare toothbrush he had tucked in a drawer. Other than a small case of the sniffles, I felt fine. I washed my face and joined him back on the couch, pulling my knees up and resting my head on his chest.
“Thanks for taking care of me last night.”
He ran his fingers through my hair. It was a tangled mess at the moment, but it seemed to fascinate him.
“Honey.”
“Yes, dear.”
He laughed, and I heard the rumble against my cheek. “No, I meant the actual thing ‘honey.’ It wasn’t an endearment.”
“Why are you talking about honey?”
He stared at a lock of my hair, studying it. “The highlights in your hair remind me of the color of honey.”
“Those were earned, not bought. I worked as a lifeguard just about every summer of my life.”
He stroked my cheek. “Your skin reminds me of honey, too. The way it looks. The way it tastes.”
He kissed the tip of my nose and then put a finger on my lips. “And your mouth. Dear God, Sam, your mouth. I’ve heard the phrase ‘bee stung lips’ before but never knew what they were talking about.”
“Honey. Bees. I’m beginning to notice a little apiology theme going on here.”
“I love the fact you know the word ‘apiology,’ but I love your lips even more. So plump. So perfect. So sweet.”
He stared at my mouth, completely absorbed, as he traced the outline. I opened my lips just a bit and took his finger in, sucking on it gently. When I touched his finger with my tongue, he groaned. That was all the encouragement I needed. I climbed on top of him, straddling him with my thighs. He didn’t protest when I kissed him. He let me take charge. For once. And when I began rocking against him, he pressed back, giving me what I needed.
His hands slid under my t-shirt, caressing my naked breasts. The only thing separating us was the thin layer of my lace panties and the cotton of his boxers, and I was lost in the sensation. He was so hard, and I was very sexually deprived at the moment. I couldn’t have stopped. Not for anything.
He sat up, kissing my neck and panting, his breath hot on my skin. His hands found my hips and he guided me, our pace growing more and more frantic until we both cried out. Even then I rubbed against him, enjoying the fading pleasure, the way he touched me. It was what I’d wanted all along. I kissed the top of his head and he looked up at me with a sheepish grin.
“I just came in my pants. That hasn’t happened since eighth grade.”
He went to change his clothes, and I sat on the couch, waiting for him. He pulled me into his arms and I sighed contentedly.
“We almost had sex, Mr. Hunter.”
“That we did, Miss Barnes. Did you enjoy it?”
I pretended like I had to think about it. He tackled me, pushing me down on the couch and tickling me until I answered him.
“Yes.” My breath came out in gasps. “Now stop.”
He made me breakfast of tea and toast, still worried I might not be feeling well. I was great. Better than great.
“You’re glowing.” His hand shot to my forehead to check my temp again and I giggled.
“I’m not sick. I’m happy.”
He kissed me, his lips tasting like strawberry jam. “I’m happy, too.”
He took me home close to lunchtime. Students milled about in front of the Theta house, and I felt a little shy. Obviously, we’d had a sleepover. I had on my clothes from the night before and my hair was a wreck. It didn’t bother him. He swept me up into kiss that made my toes curl.
“The Sig party is tomorrow,” he said.
“I can’t come. I have a Theta function.”
“Can I see you tonight?” he asked as he nibbled on my lips.
“Yes,” I said between kisses.
“Dinner? At my place?”
After the discussion we had last night, this should have ticked me off, but I was still riding high on the afterglow of the orgasm I’d had this morning. The much awaited orgasm. The one that had been building for two solid weeks. And now there was the possibility of sex. Tonight.
I grinned at him. “Fine, Mr. Bossy Pants. Can I at least help?”
He was about to answer me when Zach McGaffrey approached, a knowing gleam in his eyes. The last person I wanted to see at the moment.
“Dylan,” he said, reaching out to shake hands with Dylan. He turned to me. “And Samantha. What a surprise.”
I gave him a tight smile. I hadn’t seen Zach since the night the frat got raided, and I was still mad at him for how he’d behaved with Gabriela. I also wasn’t ready for the world to know about my relationship with Dylan. I still hadn’t told Max about it. I knew I should have, but it never seemed like the right time.
“Zach.” Dylan kept one arm around my shoulder and greeted him with genuine pleasure as they did the super-secret Sig handshake. It wasn’t actually such a secret. Max showed it to me ages ago.
“Are you two coming to the party tomorrow?”
“I will,” said Dylan. “Sam has other plans.”
Zach’s lips curled up in a smile. “What a pity. See you later, my brother.”
He gave Dylan a pat on the back and took off. A dark cloud of foreboding filled my heart. I didn’t like this at all.
Dylan brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “What’s wrong?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Nothing. I just don’t like him very much.”
Dylan shrugged. “He’s okay. We pledged together. We’ve been friends a long time. I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”
I nodded and he gave me a small kiss on the cheek before he got in his car and drove away. I waved to him half-heartedly. Even Max thought Zach was a jerk, and Max was one of the worst judges of character I’d ever met. My shoulders slumped as I thought of him. It would be wrong if he found out about Dylan through someone else. I needed to tell him before Zach did. I decided to call him as soon as I got back to my room.
Max, happy to finally hear from me after a two-week dry spell, agreed to meet me for a coffee after I finished my afternoon classes. We chatted, the same easy, comfortable way we always had. I loved spending time with Max. He made me laugh, and we understood each other. He wasn’t handsome in Dylan’s chiseled, dark, sexy way, but he was cute, with curly brown hair and freckles on his nose. He’d wrestled in high school, and still had the muscles to prove it.
One of the Sig brothers, a tall blond guy named Jason, walked by and gave Max a high five. “Hey, Max. How are things going, Sam?”
I nodded at him and Max grinned. “What about that meeting this morning, Jason? I couldn’t stop laughing.”
“I know, man. Me, too.” Jason started to giggle. “Meep.”
They said goodbye, but Max couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face. “What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “I really shouldn’t tell you.”
“What is it, Max?”
“It’s brother stuff. You’ll get mad.”
I gave him a steady look. “Just
tell me. You know you want to.”
“Okay,” he said, leaning conspiratorially across the table. “Do you know Shannon? Big girl, dark hair?”
“I think so. Is she a DZ?”
He nodded, starting to giggle again. “Well, she hooked up with Joe last night at the Sig house. One of the pledges recorded the encounter.”
“What do you mean?”
“He put his phone in Joe’s room and recorded them having sex. It was dark, so you can’t see anything, but the audio…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I guess she was on top, and right in the middle of it, she farted. Honest to God. It sounded like what Jason said. Meep. Weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. And then she said, ‘Excuse me,’ all lady-like and proper, and can you guess what Joe did?”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“He said, ‘It’s fine. Just ride me, baby.’ And they continued on from there. It was freaking hilarious.” He was about to start laughing again, but froze at the look on my face.
“Not cool, Max.”
“Come on, Sam. It’s no big deal. Joe didn’t care.”
“I’m sure Shannon did. Do you guys do this all the time?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, but I could tell he was lying. I stared at him until he confessed. “Well, maybe once or twice. It’s just a pledge thing.”
“Did you ever record…us?”
He sat straight up. “No way, Sam. You know I’d never do that.”
“Joe didn’t do it. The pledge did it.”
“Look. You’re not like Shannon. She was just there for a hook-up. You’re special, and the other brothers know it.”
“Special, huh? That’s what all the boys say.” I took a long sip of coffee, staring at him over the rim of my cup. A moment of silence hung in the air as he studied my face.
“So do you have something to tell me, Samantha?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
I paused, my coffee clutched in my hand. “You know?”
He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. “Of course, I know. I kind of suspected you were seeing someone, but Zach confirmed it a few minutes before you called. He seemed very eager to share the news.”
“I’m sorry, Max. I should have told you sooner.”
“It’s fine. Honest. Although, I will miss our three a.m. booty calls.” I blushed and he gave me a pointed look. “Not that any of them were ever recorded by anyone.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thank heavens for small miracles, I guess.”
He reached for my hand, being sincere for the first time in a long time. “Are you happy?”
I had to ponder it for a moment before I could really give an answer. “Yes. I think I’m happy. I’m just not sure yet.”
Max stirred his coffee, sneaking a glance up at me from between his lashes. He had the most gorgeous lashes. Charcoal black, long, and thick. I’d told him many times no guy deserved to have lashes like that, and it was the truth. Between the lashes, the freckles, and his sweet, pleasant nature, Max was pretty adorable. I’d just never gotten used to all the pot smoking and drinking, and I never cared for him the way I did for Dylan. Max was a bubbly, fizzy soda. Dylan a long, rich sip of red wine, sophisticated and intoxicating.
“How well do you know him, Sam?”
Max never skirted around issues. He’d always been completely open with me, maybe even too open. Something about his words seemed odd. He was trying to be discreet, a new flavor for Max.
“I met him the night you asked him to walk me home. Why?”
He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, and alarm buzzers when off in my head. “Just be careful. Take it slow.”
“You’re the second person to tell me to be careful.” I decided to brush it off. “I’m leaving in a few months anyway. I’m not looking for something serious.”
“Does Dylan know that?” Max’s eyes searched mine. “If not, you need to tell him, and soon. He’s not…”
“He’s not what?”
Max sighed. “He’s a good guy.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”
He hesitated. I saw emotions churning on his face before he gave me a lazy smile. The famous Max Miller smile. The one he used to show he didn’t have a care in the world. I knew better. I also knew he had a stubborn streak. I wouldn’t get any answers unless Max wanted to give them.
“Maybe I’m just jealous.”
“You are?”
He laughed. “A little. I knew this would happen, eventually. I just didn’t realize it would be Dylan Hunter.”
“I’m stronger now. He’s not going to break my heart. I won’t let it happen.”
Max paid the bill and then stood to put on his jacket. He gave me a small kiss on the head. “For once, sweet Sam, it’s not your heart I’m worried about.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Dylan picked me up promptly at seven. He had on dress pants that hugged his bottom and a soft shirt with the top few buttons open. His dark eyes lit up when he saw me.
I grinned, feeling very sexy and mature in a silver dress I’d borrowed from Bethany and high, strappy heels. What Dylan couldn’t see was I also had on black lace undies and a matching push up bra. The dress was low cut enough it showcased my boobs in their currently very pushed up position. I had a decent amount of cleavage, but tonight my cups literally overflowed. I looked voluptuous.
Dylan froze when he saw me. “Sam…” he began, then he put a hand to his chest and exhaled slowly. “I couldn’t breathe for a minute.”
I ducked my head as shyness overtook me. I’d gotten the reaction I hoped for, but sometimes Dylan was too intense, his gaze too honest and probing. Part of me wanted to hide. The other part, the bigger, braver part, embraced it. Reveled in it. That part made me saunter over to him, slide my hand up his chest and around his neck, and pull his head down for a slow, sultry kiss. When I stepped away, he looked dazed. He actually shook his head to clear it before reaching for my hand and bringing it to his lips.
“I have a surprise waiting for you. I think you’ll like it.”
The whole way to his apartment I bugged him about the surprise. “Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?”
“All of the above.” He flashed me a grin. “No hints. You’ll see soon enough.”
I sat back in my seat with a huff, but I was just playing with him and he knew it. “Is it cake? I hope it’s cake.”
“It might be cake.”
I shot him a smile. “I guessed it.”
He gave me a noncommittal shrug as he steered the car into a parking place. The doorman greeted us as we walked through the elegant foyer. The marble floors sparkled as soft music played in the background, and everything, from the subtle lighting to the velvet chairs, screamed “money.” Dylan probably didn’t hear it. He’d been around it his whole life, so I had to guess he was used to it.
In the elevator, he pulled me close and gave me a hot kiss. His lips lingered on my neck, and then dipped lower to kiss the soft skin of my exposed breasts. I arched against him, wanting his mouth everywhere, wanting him closer. The elevator ride proved way too short for any kind of serious make-out session. Dylan grabbed my hand and led me to his apartment.
The lights were dim, and my eyes went immediately to his dining room table. He’d covered it with a black tablecloth and set it with white plates and cloth napkins. A bouquet of red roses sat in a vase in the center, surrounded by white candles.
“Oh.” I nearly melted on the floor like the wax from the candles. “This is the best surprise. Thank you, Dylan.”
He laughed. “This isn’t the surprise.”
He’d ordered a five-course meal from a local French restaurant and had it delivered. After pouring each of us a glass of champagne, he served the food, heating up each course in the kitchen. As he brought out the main course, he switched to red wine and my head got a little fuzzy. He watched me carefully, gently pushing the wine glass aside and handing me ice water. I sip
ped it gratefully. Getting drunk was not my goal tonight or the reason for this meal. I knew it and so did Dylan.
The grand finale was a decadent chocolate layer cake that made me groan. “This is so wonderful. Thank you, Dylan.”
His dark eyes stared into mine as he sipped the last of his wine. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and put it in front of me on the table. The box, imprinted in gold with the name of an expensive jewelry shop, made my heart stop.
I paused, my fork midway to my mouth. “What’s this?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “The steak was the animal, the salad the vegetable. This is the mineral.”
I put down my fork. “You got me a present?”
“Just open it, Sam.”
I opened the package with trembling hands. Inside was an elegant silver disc, hanging from a chain, inscribed with the words, She walks in beauty, like the night. Small stones, I suspected diamonds, sparkled next to the words like stars in a night sky.
Dylan watched me closely. “It’s my favorite poem, and it made me think of you.”
I swallowed hard. “Lord Byron.”
His face lit up. “You know it?”
“Yes. It’s my favorite, too.”
He came around the table I lifted my hair, allowing him to drape the necklace around my throat and clasp it. I walked over to a mirror to admire it, and he stood behind me, his eyes on the silver circle perched just above the valley between my breasts.
“It’s beautiful, but you shouldn’t have. It isn’t my birthday.”
He turned me around to face him. “Life’s too short. Why wait for birthdays?”
“But I don’t have anything for you.”
He brushed my hair over my shoulder and caressed my jawline with his thumb. “You’re my gift, Sam. Everything I’ve ever wanted.”
I twined my arms around Dylan’s neck, pressing my lips against his. He groaned and opened his mouth to me, his tongue sending shivers of desire racing through my body. Soon my breathing turned erratic, my hands tangled in his hair.
Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) Page 4
