She nods. “Okay, don’t be a stranger. Please.”
“I’ll try not to.”
The interaction between us feels too uncomfortable to become something more common, but at least I won’t be as scared to run into her around town.
I make my way to the receptionist desk to drop off the flowers, then quickly exit. Anywhere but here is where I want to be. It’s not just the people inside who scare me away; it’s the bad memories this place holds. Bad things didn’t happen here, but I learned of them within these walls. The smell, the color, everything makes me think of things I’d rather forget.
When I come out from under the awning, the rain is falling harder, drenching any part of me that wasn’t already wet. At least this time I can run since I have nothing to carry. I push the unlock button as soon as my car is in view and climb in so fast, only a few drops fall on the inside of my door.
For several minutes, I just listen to the rain against the car windows. The sound soothes me as I rest my head back on the seat. I don’t know what wound me up more—the fact that I ran into Cory’s family or that it went better than I’d expected. Preparing myself for the worst was almost as bad as actually facing it.
That’s something I’ve learned lately. Things are rarely as bad as I think they’re going to be. I’m resilient … much stronger than I ever thought I could be.
Just as I’m about to head back to the shop to clock out for the day, my phone buzzes. Picking it up, I realize it’s Sam. He must be off work already.
Sam: Can I cook you dinner tonight?
Rachel: I thought you didn’t cook.
Sam: I order a mean pizza.
This will be the third time this week that Sam has “cooked” for me. Not that I mind it. It’s better than an awkward meal at home with Mom staring at Dad’s empty chair.
Rachel: That you do. Getting off work. Be there around 6:30?
Sam: Or sooner.
Sam is all I need to motivate myself out of this parking lot. Spending the night cuddled on the couch with him, listening to the rain. He’s one of the best things to ever come into my life. I’ll always be grateful that my mom had the church ladies over that day almost twelve years ago.
The first couple times I came up to Sam’s apartment, it didn’t feel quite right. Now I walk right in like the place is mine. No knocking. No soft footsteps. When I reach the door at the top of the steps, my knuckles brush against the door, not for him to answer, but to let him know I’m coming in.
He’s always in the kitchen … that’s no different tonight. Blue jeans. A white muscle-hugging, long sleeve T-shirt. No shoes or socks. He’s truly a vision of pure, uncensored human sexuality. I’m relieved they didn’t teach us about the little tingles in the stomach that come with attraction back in Sex Ed because it’s so much better when it just hits you without warning.
“Hey,” he says, stalking over to where I stand frozen inside the door. The best part of his greeting is the kiss. He’ll grip my chin with his calloused fingers and bring his lips down to mine with his eyes open. Up until a few days ago, I always kissed with my eyes closed. I thought it was better that way, but Sam showed me how much more you can feel when you do it with your eyes and lips. I see deep inside him and feel him even more when I take in the warmth of his brown eyes.
Sam makes hours feel like seconds. He has this ability to make me get lost in him.
When he pulls back, a grin spreads across his face. “It’s kind of rude of me to kiss you before I give you a chance to say hi.”
“I’m okay with it. I like the way you say hello,” I say, biting down on my lower lip.
“Well, did I tell you how sexy you look? I know I screwed that up.”
“Don’t sweat it. I forgot to mention it, too.”
He grips my hips, pulling me closer. “Your eyes said it all.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Yeah,” he says, pressing his lips to mine. “But I’m okay with that. If I can’t see that sparkle someday, I’ll worry.”
This time, when our mouths meet, he wastes no time tangling his tongue with mine. He moves with expert motion, every bit of it felt in places besides my mouth. We stand hip to hip, as close as two people can be with their clothes still on. I feel everything, especially the way he hardens against my stomach. It’s not the first time I’ve felt it, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me crave more of him.
He slows his motions, ending with a soft peck on my lips. “Dinner is ready.”
“We could just skip it.”
“I didn’t slave away for nothing.” He winks, grabbing my hand to lead me to the kitchen. There’s nothing fancy about our dinners together; they’re usually spent sitting Indian-style on the couch. “I ordered a veggie this time since you mentioned the pepperoni was greasy.”
“What if I don’t like vegetables?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Seriously, baby? If that’s how it’s going to be, we’re moving to cereal.”
“If you do, I prefer whole grain.”
He rolls his eyes, opening the door of his tiny refrigerator. “What do you want to drink?”
“Water.”
“If you grab the plates, I’ll bring over the drinks.”
In a short time, we’ve settled into this easy, almost domesticated, rhythm. There’s not much I’ve found that irritates him, which makes it easier for him to accept my quirks … and I have a lot of them.
“What are we watching tonight?” he asks, setting two bottles of water on the coffee table.
“Let’s skip the show about unsanitary kitchens this time.”
“The slimy chicken is part of the reason I ordered veggie pizza.”
In the end, he settles on The Fugitive. By the time it’s over, our pizza is gone, our drinks are empty, and we’re lying side by side on the couch with our legs tangled. I turn in his arms, seeing an overwhelming intensity in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Remember when you asked me what I was afraid of?”
I nod against his chest, pressing my lips to his soft shirt.
His hands grip the side of my face, bringing my eyes to his. “You. I was afraid of losing you again.”
“I don’t think I ever left you.”
“You did,” he whispers, his voice edged with pain. “When you started seeing him, it felt like I’d lost you, because all I’d ever wanted was you.”
I swallow, wanting so badly to wrap him in my arms and tell him I’m not leaving him for anything. “I now believe things happen for a reason. If you’d asked me years ago to be with you like this, I don’t think we’d still be together. I made a lot of mistakes, but I learned from them. You’re getting a better version of me.”
“I liked the old version of you, and I like the new. That’s how I know this is something special I never want to be without. I’ve loved you for so fucking long, Rachel.” He tenderly presses his lips to mine, still holding my face in his hands. His teeth gently tug at my lower lip before releasing me. “Do you feel that when I kiss you?”
“What?” I whisper, staring down at his lips.
“It means something.” He takes my hand in his, placing it over his heart. “When I kiss you, it’s coming from here. I take my time because I plan on doing it with only you for the rest of my life; I’m not scared of losing you again.”
“Sam, you promised slow.”
“And I’m giving you slow,” he says, cupping my chin in his hand. His mouth traces the line of my jaw, down my neck, to the sensitive spot below my ear. It feels amazing, sending a warm tingle down my spine.
There’s this little voice in my head that says we’re taking things too fast, but my body is screaming a whole different story. I’m inclined to listen to that voice.
Before I even realize what he’s doing, I’m being hoisted into his arms and carried to his bed. Warning bells should be sounding, but they don’t. I want this. I want to feel what he does to me without all these clothes b
etween us.
He sets me down on my feet, the back of my knees hitting against the mattress. “I know you want this. I feel it in the way your heart beats against my chest. But if you want to stop, you need to tell me now. It’s not going to be possible to hit pause once I start.”
This isn’t just turning the page; it’s a whole new chapter. With Cory, I waited a whole year before I took this step and, even then, I wasn’t this sure of how I felt about him. For twelve years I’ve been getting to know Sam, his strengths and weaknesses, his thoughts and struggles. For twelve years I’ve loved him … not always in the same way, but I’ve loved him.
I’m in love with this beautiful boy, even if I’m too afraid to tell him.
I nod. “I want this just as much as you do.”
His fingers come up, making quick work of the buttons on my white blouse. His eyes hold mine in quiet contemplation. In all seriousness, the way he looks at me is almost enough to make me cry. Some girls wait their whole life for their fairytale to come along, and mine is standing right in front of me.
He slides his hands down my shoulders, taking my shirt right along with them. I stand in front of him in nothing but a nude bra—definitely not what I would have picked if I’d known this was happening tonight. “You’re so damn sexy. I’ve dreamt about this happening over and over, but even then, I didn’t envision you quite like this.”
I snake my fingers underneath his shirt, running them along his toned abs. When it’s not enough, when I want to feel more of his skin on mine, I pull his shirt over his head, fully exposing his strong chest and taut stomach.
His hands cup my neck, his thumbs coming up to caress my jawline. “When I look at you, I see everything my life is meant to be. It’s my turn to show you just how good yours can be.”
His lips slowly descend on mine, his hooded eyes fixed on me. He’s warm and tender, pulling each of my lips between his before fully covering my mouth. I’m not nervous about the intimacy of what’s about to happen—he’s familiar enough to me—but I’m worried about not knowing what he likes or dislikes. My experiences probably don’t match his, but I hope the level of feelings we have for each other is enough to make up for it.
Gaining more confidence from his warm touch, I slide my fingers down to the button of his jeans, fumbling to pull it loose. When I’m successful, I tug on his zipper and push his jeans down his hips. Turns out, he’s a black boxer-briefs man … it’s pretty much what I imagined, knowing as much as I do about him.
“You’re smiling,” he says, lightly brushing his knuckles along my collarbone.
“You make it easy,” I reply, standing on my tippy toes to kiss the cleft of his chin. He holds me there, placing his fingers under my chin to bring my lips up to his. There’s no need to show me how good life can be, I feel it. Deep down in my chest—it resides there.
He undoes my jeans, easing the tight denim down my legs.
His long fingers come back up, expertly dancing against my sides. “Lie down on the bed, baby.”
My chest pulses up and down as I sit back along the edge of the mattress, slowly moving backward against the soft cotton sheets. Sam stands at the foot of the bed drinking in my mostly naked body. We stay just like that for a while. Each of us staring. Each of us feeling. There’s no going back now.
My eyes stay on him as he walks to the nightstand and pulls a small foil packet from the top drawer. Maybe I’m a little nervous. This isn’t my first time but, in a way, it feels like it is.
The side of the bed dips as he crawls toward me. He might as well be moving on air because he’s all I see. “I’m going to kiss every inch of your skin, and then, baby, I’m going to make sure you feel me inside. Especially right here,” he says, kissing the spot on my chest right above where my heart beats.
Reaching up, I tangle my fingers in his hair. “Sam. Please.”
His mouth doesn’t just kiss me there. He makes love to my skin with every touch. He blazes a path down my stomach, inside each thigh … all the way down to the top of my feet. It’s slow, sensual, and has me begging for more by the time he makes his way back up to my lips.
The nerves have dissipated again, and when he sits back on his heels to pull his boxers down, only anticipation fills me. I watch as he rips open the package and carefully rolls on the condom. His whole body is so damn beautiful.
“I’m going to go slow,” he whispers, leaning over my body. As he kisses me, I feel him at my entrance. And when he finally breaks away, his eyes gaze into mine as he enters me. Slowly. Completely. I almost want to cry … it’s never been quite like this.
“Okay?” he asks.
I nod, lifting my head to brush my lips against his. It’s the reassurance he needed. So far, it’s perfect … one of those moments I’ll remember forever. He slowly pulls out until only the tip of him remains inside me, then slides back in, much the way he did the first time. It’s a pattern he repeats with soft kisses spread in between, but as my muscles relax, he thrusts harder, faster. I feel every movement, every emotion, communicated between us.
Just when I get to that point where I think I never want this to end because it feels too damn good, the tension builds in my core. Each time he buries himself all the way inside me, I come closer, the tingles intensifying. Before long, I’m having the strongest, most amazing orgasm I’ve ever had. Toes curling. Back arching. All control is lost. I’m all his, no one can argue otherwise.
“Oh my God, baby. Do you know how fucking amazing that feels?” He groans, and with three quick motions, he follows me to bliss. He buries his head into my neck and moans my name over and over. I didn’t know how sexy my name was until just now, rolling off his lips when he’s most vulnerable.
For what seems like forever, we stay just like that. Two bodies covered in a layer of sweat, shaking from the aftermath of amazing sex.
Sam slowly withdraws from me, holding himself up over my body. “I feel like we were always meant to get here, Rachel. It may have been a long road, but I’m glad we’ve finally made it. You were meant to be mine.”
I run my hands along his strong biceps. “I’m not going anywhere.”
SOMETIMES, AFTER YOU’VE SEEN all the ugly parts of life, it’s hard to believe beauty still exists. And if you live in the ugly long enough, you become convinced the beauty never really existed. Living in the darkness plays with your mind and drains your soul, and when the light finally starts to shine through again, it takes a little while before the trees become green and the flowers begin to grow. Darkness to light is like winter to spring.
With Sam, I’m blossoming again. He’s exactly what I need, and that feeling is etched in stone as his lips travel down my bare chest. They’re soft against my skin, like a rose petal tracing a path between my breasts.
“Rachel,” he breathes against my skin. “Do you know how good you taste?”
All I can manage is a moan as he continues his journey down, placing feather light kisses around my belly button.
“Your skin tastes just like a strawberry.” His voice purrs with lust, like a man who’s about to get a taste of something he’s craved for years.
My back arches when his warm mouth moves between my legs. I’ve been touched there many times, but not like this. It’s intimate, sexy, and frees me in a way I never thought possible. It feels like it’s just us, drifting on a cloud with no weight under or above us. I wrap his hair between my fingers, pulling just enough to reassure him that what he’s doing is well received. And when his tongue strokes my clit, I feel that cloud climbing higher. My body releases, walls clenching. He sees it through, punctuating it with the brush of his lips.
When his mouth lifts from my skin, I open my eyes and see him looking down at me. Even in the dark room, I see the desire within them. They burn bright through the dull light in the room.
“This time, when I’m making love to you, I want you to look at me. I want you to see what I feel. I want to see what you feel.” His lips come down on mine. He tastes
like me as he works expertly, making me yearn for the rest of him. Last night he showed me how good things could be, what I’ve been missing out on by not being with him. My true friend and soul mate.
“Sam,” I moan as he travels the line of my jaw. He continues his exploration down my throat, but instead of using his lips, his tongue draws a line back to my breasts, taking a little time to lap each nipple. He’s got me on edge, and I’m ready to jump because I know he’ll catch me. He always has.
With one long, slow movement, he enters me and, out of habit, I close my eyes. By doing it, I’ve always thought I’d be able to concentrate on the sensation of skin against skin … that it would make everything better. He proved that wrong last night.
The backs of his fingers caress my cheek. “Look at me.”
I obey, opening my eyes to him. It’s not until then that he starts moving, creating a delicious friction between our joined bodies. Those gorgeous brown eyes only leave me when his lips travel down my neck. He sucks, bites, and nibbles as he continues to thrust his body into mine.
When he’s done tasting, he braces his hands on the bed, looking straight down at me. “Do you feel how good we fit, baby? Your body was made for mine.”
I nod, arching my back to take more of him. There’s no way he can push any deeper, but I still crave it. When you love something, you want all of it.
My breathing accelerates. I’m so close, riding the euphoria that comes right before hitting the ultimate high. I grip his shoulders tightly, letting him know my walls are about to cave.
“Hold on, baby. I want to come with you,” he whispers, running his fingers up my forearms until they’re clasped with mine. His pace quickens, making it harder and harder for me to hold back, and he knows it. It’s as evident as the passion in his eyes.
“Sam, please,” I moan, squeezing his fingers between mine.
He leans in and kisses me, sucking my bottom lip between his. “Let go, but keep your eyes on me.”
With one more thrust, he groans, and my walls clench around him. I struggle to keep my eyes open and on him, and from the way his eyes widen, he’s struggling with it too.
Living With Regret (Rains Series Standalone Book 3) Page 20
