by Leslie North
There was one easy way to answer his question.
The valet pulled his car around. Trinity raised her hand to hail a cab, and Sam snatched her wrist out of the air. He pulled the door to his own vehicle open and dragged her in the backseat after him.
"Sam!" She laughed her protestation. "What on earth—"
Much as he loved her laugh, he couldn't listen to it and kiss her at the same time. And right now, his immediate need to taste her lips trumped everything else. Sam pulled the door closed behind them and carried her down into the backseat. "Sam!" she cried out again, but his lips closed over hers and she hummed into the kiss with frustrated appreciation. His knee came up between her legs, and his hands roamed everywhere as she dragged her fingers through a few buttons of his shirt.
"Are you ballroom dancing tonight?" he asked breathlessly as he pulled away.
Trinity chuckled. "Did you come up with a new code word I'm not aware of?"
"I thought I could drop you off." Sam deliberated. "No. That's a lie. I thought I could join you."
Trinity sat up on her elbows and appeared to consider him. A shock of her dark blond hair had sprung loose from her style and fallen into her eyes. "...I don't think it's a good idea, Sam," she said finally.
"You don't sound convinced of it."
"Work might get in the way again."
"Work won't get in the way again. I promise."
"You really hurt me the other night," she insisted. "And I can't keep getting my hopes up like that. Spending all this time together outside of our professional lives...I'm just not sure it's a good idea. I think I do want it to work. I just…"
Trinity trailed off uncertainly, but in the wake of her words Sam's heart soared. She wanted to make it work. She, Trinity, the woman of his dreams who he had once had and let go. He didn't have much of an imagination when it came to a lot of things, but he had lost track of the number of times he had conceived of her saying those words since he'd come back to New York. It had gotten to the point where he had been afraid of returning home without hearing them.
"Come to L.A. with me," he said abruptly.
Trinity blinked beneath her tousled hair. "...what?"
Chapter Nine
Trinity
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Trinity muttered under her breath.
"That's the third time you've said that since you stepped off the plane," Sam mused. "I'd say you're allowed to believe it by now."
Trinity glanced across the convertible’s passenger seat at Sam. How could he look so natural, so poised and cool, sitting behind the wheel in this heat with his sunglasses on and his hair slicked back? He didn't even have his sleeves rolled up! Probably terrified of wrinkles, Trinity mused as she shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun. "Jessica's going to kill me," she said under her breath. So far she had successfully ignored the slew of texts pouring in from her best friend by being on the plane.
"I don't remember which one of your friends that is," Sam commented.
Trinity sighed and melted back into the seat. "Of course you don't."
"I'm kidding. I remember Jessica. I also seem to remember she no longer approves of me."
"Got that right." Trinity crossed her arms over her chest and smiled with satisfaction. "I took her in the divorce."
"I'm glad you have such close friends," Sam said seriously. "But now that I have you to myself for the weekend, let's talk about us. If you like, we'll do what we discussed on the flight over and check out the office before we check you into your hotel.”
"Not really the 'us' talk I was hoping to have, but fine." For now, Trinity was content to bask in the sun, and to watch him drive. She couldn't get over just how utterly captivating her brooding old lover looked in these cheerful California conditions. She could swear the extra Vitamin D had already relaxed them both more than the New York rat race ever could, but a thought continued to niggle around in the back of her mind:
Who do you have, Sam?
Surely he had friends. And if not friends, coworkers—right?
If he did, he certainly didn't appear happy at the prospect of seeing them. The grimace on his face an hour later as they strolled into the office lobby broadcast his feelings loud and clear. Thankfully, no one was around to witness the lapse in his usually perfect composure.
Trinity nudged him. "Hey. Why so grumpy all of a sudden? I thought you'd be glad to be home. Getting back has been almost all you can talk about."
"Home?" Sam echoed the word dubiously. "I don't consider any one place home. And even if I did, just look how they rearranged everything while I was gone!" He indicated the lobby with a broad sweep of his hand. Trinity pressed her lips together in an indulgent smile and looked, despite the fact that she had never known the West Coast office to be laid out otherwise. The color scheme screamed feng shui, although she wasn't certain Sam would be familiar with the concept. She reached out to caress a palm plant in passing as they continued on the tour.
"My...general approach to things doesn't always gel with my surroundings here," Sam admitted. "You know me better than anyone. I demand rigidity. Structure. I demand it of myself, and I demand it of those around me. It's less a philosophy and more a requirement."
"And the West Coast loves philosophy," Trinity guessed. "Or so you've told me."
"Exactly."
Despite Sam's best efforts to convert her to his way of thinking, she simply couldn’t enjoy the tour he gave. The offices were bright and airy; almost every room sported an open window, and the revivifying air from the nearby beach wafted in through delicate, translucent curtains. Every hallway was lit with warm, natural light. She couldn't imagine walking into an ad agency on the East Coast that boasted as much charm and character as this one.
Seeing Sam in this new context was almost funny. He looked so stiff, so wholly out of his element, that she couldn't stifle the genuine affection that rose up every time she looked at him. She watched as he tugged on his tie, barely listening to his explanation of New York's superior elevators (and the general West Coast embracing daily steps and stairs). She wanted to raise herself up and kiss the naked patch of skin his rumpled collar exposed, but she tamped down the instinct quickly.
"You know," she began as they looped back around to his office. "I think the lighting might actually contribute to your office's heightened productivity. As much as I would love to credit your methods and your methods alone," she added quickly when Sam raised an eyebrow, "I think we could replicate this sort of atmosphere in New York. We can change the lighting fixtures, for one, and bring in a lot more tropical plants. At the very least I'd love to replace the plastic ones we have in the lobby. They aren't fooling anybody."
"And the standing desks," Sam mentioned. "As silly as they look, they've been proven to be healthier long-term alternatives to sitting in cubicles."
"Yes!" Trinity enthused. "Yes. We've been so focused on onboarding Eddie lately, and going after those high-profile, hard-to-win New York clients, that I think we on the East Coast have momentarily lost sight of how important atmosphere and overall employee health can be to the company."
"People rarely take sick days around here," Sam mentioned as he glanced around. He seemed to be gaining new eyes, and a new perspective, on his surroundings. Trinity grinned, and thought: to hell with it. She raised herself up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.
Before he could think to seize the moment, a knock at the door drew their attention away from one another to a thick-rimmed, deeply scowling face. Trinity thought she had never seen a hipster quite so serious as the twenty-something that leaned in the doorway.
"Sam. You're back. Can we do something about the coffee situation?" The intern rattled the bag of beans he held. "Whoever's in charge of stocking the cabinet should really get on the free trade train already."
Trinity burst out laughing, and quickly covered her mouth when the intern's flat gaze fell to her. "I don't see what's so funny," he said.
"Just something I said
earlier." Sam quickly jumped to her rescue.
"Oh. You tell jokes now?" The intern seemed genuinely surprised. Now Trinity really did laugh, a full-on belt with her head thrown back; after a moment, she heard Sam's reluctant chuckle join in.
"Oh God, Sam," she moaned. Twenty-four hours later in the hotel room and he had her singing a completely different tune.
Sam thrust into her leisurely. Trinity's leg was thrown back over his hip, and his every resolute movement jostled her on the bed. The silky sheets bunched beneath her, as cool and insubstantial as water. Trinity arched her back, relishing the stretch it gave almost as much as she relished Sam's engorged cock sliding into her from behind.
"Why did we never...fuck with the lights on...before?" she gasped. The smack of his hips driving into her was its own aphrodisiac. Every time he thrust a little harder, she would glance down, open-mouthed and halfway startled to see the full length of him driving into her. Watching him bury himself to the hilt every time was doing more for her than she ever would have dreamed.
"Ah!" The startled, breathy noise escaped her as he hit that sweet spot deep inside her. Trinity grabbed a fistful of the sheet and twisted the material around and around her fingers, hissing with pleasure as Sam redoubled his efforts. He grabbed the underside of her thigh and elevated her leg even higher, until her toe was practically pointed at the ceiling. "Oh, Jesus, Sam! Oh, fuck…!"
"How come you never swore this much before?" Sam groaned. "I had no idea you were so dirty, Trinity."
"Because maybe...I thought that...you wouldn't appreciate the filthy things I had to say!" Trinity ground out. She clenched her teeth so hard to hold back her shouts that her ears rang with the effort. The window to the balcony was thrown wide open; even though her room was facing the window, she didn't trust that their privacy was complete enough to risk giving herself over completely.
Then again, she might not have a choice in the matter. As Sam picked up the pace, bucking into her and forcing her leg even higher, she felt electric currents of bliss racing to the furthest corners of her quivering body. She couldn't remember ever feeling so divorced from her mind, so completely physical—no matter how hard they had railed in the past, work obligations never seemed far enough away from the bedroom. Now, Sam fucked her so soundly she could barely remember which coast she was on.
"I'm going to cum!" she moaned. "I can feel it. Sam…"
"I'm not done with you yet." His hand slid down her thigh, and she sighed with disappointment when he pulled it back. In the next moment, he delivered a light and unexpected swat to her rear. Trinity arched harder with a cry, and he took advantage of her position to maneuver her fully onto her stomach. One arm slid beneath her, tightening over her breasts and propping her up slightly above the mattress. His other hand clenched hard over her ass; he filled his palm with her, lifting and separating her cheek, and then…
Another stinging swat. Trinity cried out in wordless outrage. Sam had never spanked her before...she could barely convince him to use his teeth when she wanted that spark of pain with her pleasure. So what the hell was this? Was he always holding back before, the same way she had refrained from talking dirty in the sack?
And why did she like it so much?
His cock sank into her and curved upward. His hips collided with her ass, nearly sending her face-first off the bed; she again scrambled for something to grab onto, and settled for reaching back behind herself to hang onto his waist. "Sam!" His name had devolved to a shout on her lips.
"You like that?" His rough taunt was as unexpected as everything else he had surprised her with.
"No!" She wished she hadn't emitted the protest alongside a moan.
"I think you do." He stroked his hand along the curve of her rear. His gentler touch both tickled and eased some of the sting; he drew it back, and Trinity braced herself, heart racing with anticipation. When the third swat came, it was timed with a purposeful thrust. The force of Sam's entry drove her head down into the sheets, which was a good thing in hindsight—the shout that left her lips was probably loud enough to be heard all the way back in her home office on the opposite coast. Orgasm ripped through her; there had been no tell-tale build-up this time. One minute Sam was fucking her senseless, and the next thing she knew, the waves were crashing down around her, as high and wild as the California surf.
Trinity cried out into the mattress, muffling as much as she could of the involuntary sound as her body shook all over. For a moment she really couldn't remember where she was. All she knew was who she was with, and what he was making her feel…
Sam came in the next instant with an explosive groan. He rutted into her as he rode it out, and she eased back into each thrust as best she could. Even though she had already reached climax, she found herself still craving every last inch of him...and Sam was all too happy to oblige.
When he had finished, he slumped down onto her back with a sigh of contentment. Trinity stared out toward the open balcony. Her head spun, as if she had just been out partying after closing a massive deal. It had been a long time since she had let herself have such a fun, filthy romp with Sam.
Sam's head inched up her neck, and his blue eyes flickered up through a stray lock of sweat-soaked black hair. Trinity laughed at his expression and stroked it aside. "What?"
"I almost forgot the champagne."
Trinity laughed as he rose up from the tousled bedsheets to fetch the room service they had ordered hours ago. "I did forget the champagne," she admitted as he returned to her. She accepted the glass—an incorrect wineglass, Sam had noted to her before she silenced him with a kiss once the door closed.
She watched him take a satisfied sip. Even though his drink was lukewarm rather than chilled—even though the glassware was wrong and the bedsheets were wrinkled and they had yet to shower properly since touring L.A. for the better part of the day—he looked more content than Trinity could ever remember seeing him. L.A. was magic; she had no doubt about that now. Leave it to Sam to leave it to her to figure it out for herself. He probably had no idea how beautiful, how like paradise, the place he now hailed from was.
Still...when Sam looked at her the way he was looking at her now, Trinity thought he was capable of seeing beauty. She almost couldn't take the way his eyes traveled across her, dragging over her every curve with near adulation. It wasn't something he could express out loud easily, and Trinity wondered if he even needed to at this point. She knew what his look meant.
She knew what she was to him. And she knew what he had always been to her, despite her best efforts to forget and move on. Maybe seeing Sam now, in the extraordinary context of Los Angeles, was the new chapter she had been so desperately looking for.
"I love...I've loved the last few days we've spent together here," Trinity mentioned as they clinked their glasses together. Sam eased down beside her, and she inched closer in the sheets to be nearer to him.
"I've loved being together again too. Having you here, it's like I'm seeing everything again for the first time." Smile lines fanned out around his eyes, and Trinity realized he knew what she had really been about to say. Before she could summon the courage to try again, his phone buzzed on the mantle. Sam shot her a look of apology, and she shook her head. She wasn't threatened by the work interruptions anymore. Sam knew where she stood—the fact that he was even quietly asking her permission now was a huge leap forward. She watched as he set his champagne aside and thumbed his phone open. His contemplative expression bloomed quickly into one of sheer astonishment.
"What is it?" She trained closer to look, but Sam wasn't content to read the e-mail on his phone screen. He got up again to fetch his laptop. He flipped it open and clicked through a few Jameson security measures as she sipped her champagne and watched over his shoulder.
"William just announced two major expansion projects." Sam double-clicked the window to widen it for her to read. "I had no idea he was planning something like this."
Trinity craned forward. "Where?"
/> "In both the L.A. and Europe offices." Sam sounded out of breath. The news really had hit him out of left field.
She pointed to the recipients. "Look. This hasn't gone out to hardly anyone yet. This isn't an announcement...it's more like an invitation to interview. Hey, even I'm on the e-mail list." She grinned. "I wonder who they'll choose to run the Europe project? Can you imagine if William gave it to Eddie?" She laughed. "It would be the one big Eurotrip sequel nobody ever asked for!"
"No way in hell Eddie's going to get it," Sam replied. "Not if I want it."
Trinity's heart skipped a beat, and then another. She set her own glass down. She looked at Sam for a long moment, but Sam was gazing off somewhere else. She wasn't sure he even knew they occupied the same bed anymore. "Do you want it?" she asked eventually. She wished she could muster more than a whisper to convey her surprise.
Her terrible, awful surprise.
"I'm going after it. And I'm going to get it," Sam said with certainty as he rose from the bed. "This is what I've been working toward. I thought the onboarding project set me back, but this must be William's way of letting me know he's forgiven me for losing that client. He knows how badly I want out of L.A."
"I didn't know you were considering leaving the country, Sam," she said.
"It's better than I could have imagined." Sam closed the balcony doors and drew the curtain to block out the natural light. The room plunged into claustrophobic darkness as he crossed to the desk and yanked the lamp on. "Can you believe it? Europe, Trinity! No way I'm not jumping on this."
Trinity watched forlornly as Sam reopened his laptop and immersed himself in studying William's e-mail. Her heart clenched in an agony she couldn't express out loud. She had just been about to tell him that she loved him. The words had been right there.
