Into the Blue

by Ann Cory

  "Shit.” He sighed. Of all the times to go off the wagon, Matt had to pick now. “Are you able to drive him?"

  Lee shook his head. “Can't. I hadn't planned on driving so I helped myself to the alcohol. Sorry."

  He understood. Besides, Matt was his responsibility. He'd lost track of how many times he'd bailed his friend out over the years. “Yeah, no, that's cool."

  "I'm just afraid he's going to kill himself and a bunch of other people if he gets behind the wheel,” Lee explained.

  That visual didn't work for him at all. “I'll handle it. Thanks for letting me know."

  He and Matt had been friends since they were kids. Poor guy had led a miserable life with abusive parents, and then he'd gotten involved with a gang. Things looked up when Matt had gone into rehab and cleaned up his lifestyle. Cole wondered what set him off this time.

  He turned his attention back to Samantha. He didn't want to spoil the mood by getting into it, but she was sure to dislike what he was about to say.

  "I hate to do this, but I have to go. Will you excuse me?” He ran his hand along the side of her cheek. A sexy glow radiated all around her.

  For a moment she was quiet, and then her brows pinched together. “I don't understand."

  "There's something I need to take care of, so I'll be gone for a little while. I'm sorry. Honest."

  A hurt look crossed her face, and it made him feel lousy.

  "Oh, I see. You're getting back at me for earlier. You want me to know what it feels like to be rejected."

  The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. “What? Oh hell no. That's not it at all. I just can't explain right now. I promise that I'll be right back and then we can spend more time together. Okay?"

  She turned away from him and slid off the raft into the water. “Sure. Whatever."

  Cole was torn but didn't have a choice. He climbed out of the pool and quickly dried off. He grabbed a pair of jeans and wrestled a shirt on over his head.

  Lee helped him get Matt into the passenger side of his car and belted in.

  "I'm fine to drive, man,” his drunken friend slurred. “Oh and by the way, great party."

  "Thanks.” Cole started the car and pulled out of the driveway. “I guess I'm the idiot for inviting you when I planned to serve drinks. What kind of friend am I?"

  Matt swung his head in his direction. “Nah, man. I've been to plenty of parties and not had a single drink. I just started up again two weeks ago after I lost my job."

  So that was it. He'd been occupied with other things and hadn't spoken to Matt in about the same length of time. Now he felt worse for not being there for him at a low point. “How exactly did you lose your job?"

  "I helped myself to the register."

  He tried to ignore the strong alcohol on his friend's breath. “Why did you do that?"

  "Because I asked for a raise, and they wouldn't give me one. So, I gave myself one."

  Cole stiffened. “You can't do stuff like that."

  "I know. I regret it now."

  He felt like saying it served him right, but didn't want to push his friend too hard. “I'll bet you do. I'm sorry about the job, but I'm more sorry you're back to drinking again. You were doing so well."

  He glanced at the clock on the dash and sighed. It would be at least another forty minutes before he would see Samantha again, and he didn't figure she'd be there waiting. Cole inhaled and smiled at the way her scent lingered on his lips.

  "I don't feel right,” Matt suddenly wheezed beside him. “I can't catch my breath."

  His friend gasped for air and then slumped over.

  "Shit, Matt.” He reached over and shook him but didn't get a response. “Stay with me, okay?"

  He banged his fist against the steering wheel and changed lanes. “Hang on, man. You're going to make it."

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  Chapter Three

  Samantha downed her third margarita and dragged herself onto a chaise lounge. Somehow, she'd screwed things up again. She'd been so used to being the one who ran from the bed after sex that she felt like she was on foreign soil with Cole. His abrupt departure after her orgasm left her with too many questions. And feeling like a complete idiot. Should she have pleasured him right then? She would have ... she should have. Or was it simply a game he'd played with her. Were any of the other women acting like a clingy possessive girlfriend? Doubtful. Samantha smacked her head. She was doing it again. Internalising everything. Taking things too personally. He didn't owe her anything.

  A warm breeze settled over her, and she felt her body relax. She couldn't get up even if she wanted to. She barely made out the conversations of the people around her. Their lips moved, but she didn't know what they were saying. Were they talking about her? Where was Chelsea? She hadn't seen her for hours. God, was she drunk? She'd never gotten wasted off three margaritas before. Talk about being a lightweight.

  "Hey girl, you don't look so good."

  Samantha looked up and was ecstatic to see her best friend. “Where have you been?"

  "Oh, you know. Practising what I preach. I can't talk long because I've got a certain somebody waiting, but I wanted to let you know that I'm proud of you."

  "For what?"

  "Please. I saw you on that raft with that stud and two other guys. Well done you."

  She waved her hand. “Oh that. Yeah, it was fun."

  Chelsea's smile faded. “What's the matter?"

  Her eyes welled with tears. “I don't know. I think I leaped before I looked and am just now processing things."

  "Well stop doing that. You really should read my advice column more often. Especially the parts where I suggest to just go with the flow."

  She knew her friend meant well, but nothing she could say would make her feel better at this point. This was why she'd avoided relationships all along. Well that and the fact her parents had horrible fights she'd had the good fortune of listening to every night until they'd decided to go through a nasty divorce and put her in the middle. “Yeah, I'm sure you're right,” she concluded and rubbed her forehead. Just because her night had turned to crap didn't mean she had to ruin her friend's night, too. “I'll be fine. I think a nap will do me good. It's probably a mix of margaritas, not eating, the heat, and a mind-blowing orgasm."

  Chelsea laughed. “I could handle a mind-blowing orgasm tonight, too. Here's hoping. Anyhow, you sure you're going to be okay?"

  "Yes ma'am, go have fun. The night is still young and all that stuff."

  Her friend patted her arm. “Okay. Take it easy."

  "Mm hmm.” She planned to. No more what ifs or wallowing in self pity. It only made her feel worse. Samantha closed her eyes and drifted off.

  When she opened her eyes again, it was slightly darker and only a few people remained. Soft romantic music played nearby, a classical violin and piano piece. The pool lights were on and made the water look even more inviting then before. Torches were lit all along the pathways and a string of miniature lantern lights hung from the fence. The breeze was still warm, and she decided it was the perfect time for a mid-summer night swim.

  She walked to the deep end and eased herself in. The water was just the right temperature. Not too warm and not too cool. She loved the feel of the water between her thighs. It reminded her of the soft flutters of Cole's tongue along her clit. She would never forget this day. Despite the way things turned out, she'd still had a fantastic time. More than she could have hoped for. But like all good things, it had to end.

  She considered leaving when Cole slid into the water beside her.

  "Mind if I join you?"

  She couldn't decide if she was angry with him or not. It hardly seemed to matter now. He was so close and swept her up in his eyes.

  "I don't mind."

  "Good.” He slicked his hair back from his face and stared at her with such tenderness. “I'm sorry I had to leave so quickly earlier. I had to take care of something that couldn't wait."

  Samantha shif
ted her glance away and focused on one of the torches. Anything to not look into his eyes. They promised too much, and she'd only get hurt. “It's fine, really,” she said and shrugged her shoulders as if to drive home her point.

  "Being the host and all, I felt responsible,” he stated. “A guest needed a ride home."

  Her mouth opened, and she just about swallowed a mouthful of water. “The host? You mean, this is your house?"

  He nodded. “Yes it is."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Very."

  "I had no idea."

  "And I had no idea I'd have to leave right after being intimate with you. I hurt you, and I feel awful about it."

  Whatever anger she'd held onto, disappeared. “You could have just said you needed to drive a guest home. I would've understood."

  "Well he, Matt—my friend, he had too much to drink and I ended up driving him to the hospital. Alcohol poisoning. I feel bad for leaving the way I did, but I didn't have time to explain. I hope you can forgive me."

  She felt terrible for jumping to all the wrong conclusions. While she'd never had any good role models for relationships, she still knew better.

  "Of course. I'm very sorry. Will he be okay, your friend?"

  "Yeah, he's just had it rough. Anyway, enough about him. I was worried you'd left before I had a chance to talk to you. I didn't want you to leave mad."

  He moved in closer, and all she could think about was the way his tongue had brought her to the most amazing orgasm she'd ever experienced.

  "Don't worry about it. I'm just bummed that we'll never know who won the raft game."

  He chuckled. “Everyone's a winner in the raft game."

  "Ah, makes sense. So, no more pool games?"

  "Not tonight. It was all just my way to seduce you anyway."

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?"

  He sighed and shook his head. “You really don't recognise me?"

  Samantha frowned. “No, why, should I?"

  "Well, we do see each other every day."

  Her heart hit her stomach and came back up. “Please don't tell me we work together."

  "Nope."

  She cocked her head to the side and studied his face. There's no way she would've forgotten those eyes. “Then, I'm not sure where we'd run into each other."

  "Maybe this will refresh your memory."

  He turned away from her and then didn't say anything. The water sloshed along her shoulders from the movement. Was something supposed to happen? Patiently she waited until she couldn't take it anymore.

  "Um, I don't get it. I thought you said no more pool games."

  He turned back and smiled. “It's not. I thought seeing me the way you usually do might help tweak your memory."

  Talk about riddles. “Clearly the heat has melted part of my brain. You're going to have to spell it out for me."

  "I'm your cab driver."

  Her eyes widened. “No way."

  "Yes, in the flesh. Literally."

  "But that's impossible. I—"

  Why wouldn't she have recognised him? She replayed her daily morning routine. Wake up late, a quick shower, tea with too much sugar, run out the door with heels in hand and usually a jam stain on her blouse. Like clockwork the cab was always parked outside her apartment, and she'd pour herself in along with her purse, briefcase, a change of clothes, and a gym bag—just in case. Had she never bothered to look at the man who drove her everyday? Was she that involved in her own little bubble of chaos that she couldn't be bothered to acknowledge the driver's existence?

  "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. I didn't even realise it was the same driver each time. I figured you guys switched out."

  "Nope. Same one."

  "Have you been driving me for long?"

  He grinned. “For about eight months, now."

  Samantha swallowed hard. “Eight months? There goes my excuse that I'm not usually like that. Apparently, I'm a total basket case in the morning."

  "At least, you reserve it only for the morning,” he joked. “You're usually much more subdued after work, but then you're still scribbling in your planner and chatting it up on the cell phone."

  She blushed. “I can't believe I've never taken the time to say hi or look at you. Wow. You must really think I'm a bitch, especially after the way I acted earlier."

  His expression turned serious. “Believe it or not, that would be the last word I'd use to describe you."

  Oh yeah, this guy was a charmer. “What words would you use to describe me?"

  "Well, for starters. Beautiful. Shy. Sexy. Focused. Successful. Sweet. Endearing. Soft. Delicious."

  She felt her cheeks burn.

  "I could go on."

  "Maybe you shouldn't."

  He smirked. “I'd be happy to."

  Samantha held up her hands. “That's okay.” She couldn't handle all the compliments. “So, to take the spotlight off me for a moment, why a cab driver?"

  "Years of being a designated driver, I guess. I drove my friends to and from parties. I'm not much of a drinker, save for an occasional beer. Add to it that desk jobs make me claustrophobic. Plus I know my way around here, all the side streets and shortcuts. It just made sense."

  "And then you get stuck with a freak like me every morning. Poor you."

  "Not at all. In fact, despite the reasons I just gave as to why I became a cabbie, I was ready to quit. Then you called in to be picked up. Your voice intrigued me, so I told myself I could do it for one more day. Right away, I liked you and wanted to know you better, but didn't have the nerve to say anything."

  Samantha laughed. “And eight months later, you finally made your move."

  "What can I say? I'm a patient guy. So, same question to you. Why a cab driver? Why not drive?"

  She hated relaying all her issues to someone she'd rather impress. “Let's just say it caused unnecessary stress that I didn't need. I honestly don't miss it."

  His smile widened. “Well it's to my advantage that you don't drive your own car, otherwise it would have been difficult for me to slip you the invitation."

  She'd been wondering about that for days. “How did you manage to pull that off?"

  He reached out and traced her collarbone, sending goose bumps all over her skin. “I set the invitation in the backseat on the floor. I was fairly confident you weren't going to know one way or the other if you'd dropped it yourself."

  "You're a smooth operator."

  His finger moved up the side of her neck and followed her jaw line. “I try."

  "Here you know all these things about me, and I don't know much about you."

  His voice turned husky, and he pulled her close. “We can change that."

  Her pulse raced. “What did you have in mind?"

  "I'd love it if you'd stay the night. I'd like to make up for ruining the mood earlier."

  Wonderful as it sounded, she had a pile of things to get done. “Oh, that's no good. I have work to do later tonight, and then some calls to make in the morning. Even when I have a day off I've still got a lot to do. I pretty much do the work of four people.” Samantha stopped and realised she was rambling at record speed. Was it really work or just nerves?

  He kissed her forehead then her nose. His hands trailed her chest and cupped her breasts. Her nipples crested the moment his thumbs swept over them.

  She raised a brow. “What do you think you're doing?"

  "Isn't it a little late to play shy?"

  He had a point. She decided to come clean. “Work stuff aside, I've never stuck around with a guy long enough to learn more than his name. This is new territory for me."

  "Ah. A virgin."

  Samantha laughed. “I think I prefer first timer."

  "Sure thing."

  Gently he pinched her nipples and heat barrelled up her body from her toes. She wanted to melt right into him. “It's really nice of you to offer. I'd like to say yes, but with all..."

  He leaned in and silen
ced her with a kiss. His lips were soft and moist. This time she did melt into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She welcomed the feel of his tongue as it slipped between her lips. He groaned into the kiss, and his warm breath fanned her throat. She pressed against him, enough to feel his erection. She imagined her legs wrapped around his waist, his cock deep inside her.

  When he broke away, she was left breathless. Oh how she wanted more of that. To lose herself in him completely.

  Cole released her and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Please, stay the night. In the morning you can go about your business, if that's what you want to do. I think it's time you gave up just a little bit of that control you're addicted to and let someone pamper you."

  She was still buzzing from the sensuous lip lock. “If you're going to keep kissing me like that, I just might have to."

  "I plan to."

  Samantha bit her lip. Part of her wanted to leave, just because it was familiar. “I should probably check on my friend."

  "Oh, she's being well taken care of. By the pool boy and his boyfriend."

  "Seriously?” She snorted. “Go Chelsea."

  He pursed his lips. “Did you want to join them?"

  She chuckled. “No. I'm content right here with you. I'm curious, though. What made you want to know me more?"

  "Who wouldn't want to get to know you?” he retorted.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Oh please, that is so cliché."

  He smiled and as usual it broke down her defences. “Okay, okay. It's not any one thing. Your energy excites me. It's contagious. It makes me want to be around you."

  She shook her head. “Really? You don't think I'm a wreck?"

  "Oh, absolutely. A wreck, a control freak, indecisive, and completely irresistible."

  Samantha rested her hands on his shoulders and shivered at the way her nipples grazed his chest. “You have a wonderful way with words."

  "I've always thought so. Plus a pool party was the perfect excuse to see you in a bikini."

  She grunted. “Don't go there."

  "Why not?"

  "You and I both saw the babes in bikinis who were here earlier. I don't compare."

  A frown marred his brow. “You're beautiful. I mean it. And I'll keep telling you that until you believe it. Anyhow, it's obvious you need a guy like me to help you let go. Today has only been a small sample of what I can do."