Seducing Sam

by Verdenius, Angela

  “Writing, I expect. Actually, she’ll probably see me in my manly, sweat-drenched gym clothes and want a piece of me. And who could blame her?”

  A sock flew over from the back seat and hit Alan right in the ear.

  “What the hell…? Okay, which dirty bastard threw that at me?” Grabbing the sock, Alan wound down his window and threw it out. “Shit, the things you pricks do.”

  “Hey!” Tim yelled. “That’s my sock.”

  “Then it needs to stay out there until it’s been fumigated. Cripes, you work with cows. You’ve probably got foot and mouth disease.’

  “We don’t have foot and mouth in Australia, you ignorant arsehole.”

  Marty looked at Sam over his shoulder. “Bloke hour. Think you’ll make it?”

  Sam smiled. “Yeah, no worries.”

  Because it was just what he needed, a relaxed time shooting the shit with his friends. His muscles were already a lot less tense.

  After a pleasant couple of hours at Alan’s home, Alan dropped Tim and Marty off at Tim’s home where Belle, Marty’s wife, was visiting Cindy, then he headed for Sam’s house.

  Sitting in the front seat, Sam rested his elbow on the window sill and gazed out at the passing trees.

  As they pulled into Sam’s driveway, Alan said, “Hey, Sam?”

  “Yeah?” Sam looked over at Carly’s house to see Ed kneeling by his Harley, but no sight of her.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Sure, why?” Sam looked at his friend.

  Unusual for him, Alan was serious. “Because you’re a little odd.”

  “Well, thanks. And still you’re my friend.”

  “Not that kind of odd, though when it comes to chicks…” Alan shook his head. “Anyway, apart from that. I mean, you’re a little off today.”

  “Well, we did just work a sweat up at the gym.”

  “Don’t make me taser you. You won’t like it if I taser you.”

  About to give another smart comment to avoid the subject, Sam saw Carly’s blue Honda roll into the driveway. She got out, and man, she was wearing that uniform and those black Mary Janes. He could just about feel his eyes glaze over.

  “Well, shit,” Alan said.

  Startled, Sam glanced at him to see his friend staring at him.

  “Get out,” Alan ordered. “Right now.”

  “What-”

  “Now, damn it. Hurry!”

  Bewildered, Sam opened the door and got out. Alan was out like a shot, slamming his door shut and tearing up the steps onto the veranda. “Come on, come on! Hurry up!”

  Clutching his gym bag in one hand, Sam jogged up the steps. “What’s wrong? You got the shits or something? At least hold on until you get to the toilet.”

  “Just unlock the bloody door!”

  No sooner had the door swung open than Alan was through it, but instead of shooting off down the hallway to the toilet, he diverted into the lounge room.

  Concerned, Sam dropped the gym bag on the floor and hurried into the lounge. “Are you all right, Alan? What’s wrong?”

  His friend was standing at the window, the curtain pulled back a little as he peered through it. “Carly, huh?”

  “What?” Standing in the middle of the lounge, Sam pushed his glasses up his nose.

  “She’s the one that has you in knots today.” Alan glanced back at him. “Don’t deny it.”

  “Well, I-”

  “Please, Sam. I’m a cop. I observe things.”

  “No, things just fall into your lap. You’re one of the luckiest bastards on the planet. Your partner is The Incredible Hulk, so nobody tries to beat you up.”

  “Funny, that’s also Soph’s nickname for Mike. Anyhow…” Alan looked back through the curtain. “Yeah, I can see why you’re in knots. She’s not a bad lookin’ chick.”

  Despite himself, curious to see what she was doing, Sam walked to the other side of the window and peeked through the curtains.

  There she was, Carly Miller, talking to Ed while he tinkered on his motorbike. She stretched leisurely and he nearly swallowed his tongue when that magnificent bosom was thrust out as she arched back.

  Generous bosom and big hips, and a sweetly indented waist. That thick, glossy black hair was up in a bun, and on her feet…

  “I don’t know what came over me,” he blurted out.

  Jerking the curtain to the side, Alan stared at him. “Holy shit. You had sex with her!”

  “I think it was the Mary Janes.”

  “Mary Janes? What the hell are they?”

  “Cute shoes. Girl shoes. Oh, and a bouncy ponytail. Oh God! I’m a pervert.”

  “What?”

  “I’m turned on by a pair of Mary Janes, a ponytail, and a uniform!”

  Alan glanced back out of the window. “Look there.”

  Sam looked.

  “Not at Carly,” Alan admonished.

  Looking at her was something he felt he could do all day.

  “See those school girls?”’ Alan pointed to the left.

  Sam followed the direction to see some school girls walking down the road. “Yes.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “How am I supposed to feel?”

  “Are you turned on by them?”

  Sam recoiled in disgust. “No!”

  “They’re wearing uniforms, have ponytails, and one is wearing Mary Janes.”

  “Jesus, they’re only about fifteen!”

  “There,” said Alan in satisfaction, “you’re not a pervert.”

  “But the Mary Janes…” Sam trailed off and stared him for several seconds. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe it’s the person wearing them?”

  “I think you need to start drinking.”

  “Why?

  “Then you’d have an excuse for being such a bone-head.”

  “Thanks, Alan, your support is always greatly appreciated.”

  “Hey, that’s what friends are for.” Alan dropped the curtain. “So now what?”

  “What ‘what’?”

  “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”

  Sam sighed. “I don’t know, all right? It all kind of happened suddenly.”

  “You’re a planner, Sam. You’re always in control. You always think twice.”

  “I don’t know what came over me. One minute she’s apologising for kissing me and the next-”

  “Wait a minute. She apologised for kissing you? When did she kiss you?”

  “At the poker game.”

  “Poker game?”

  “Last night I went to her house and played poker.”

  Alan’s eyebrows rose.

  “High stakes. I won eight hundred matchsticks.” At his blank look, Sam said, “Never mind. Anyway, Ed bet a kiss from Carly as part of my winnings, and I just got a peck, and she came over today to apologise and it sort of got out of control.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘ands’.”

  “It was a lot of action.”

  Alan’s eyes gleamed. “Do tell.”

  “You just want fodder for Soph’s books.”

  “Hey, I please her whenever I can.” Alan leaned against the wall. “So what happened? You had sex and then she ran?”

  “How did you know?”

  “You are shitting me!” Alan’s mouth fell open. “Carly ran out on you?”

  “Yeah.” Sam cleared his throat. “Debbie came over and-”

  “Carly ran out on you?”

  “Yeah, when Debbie came over she was calling out and-”

  “Carly left you?”

  “Yes! She ran and-”

  “Wait, wait.” Dropping onto the sofa, Alan had a look of delighted awe on his face. “Let me get this straight. You, Sam the Hottie, the man who has all these beautiful and not-so-beautiful women scheming to get him, had a woman actually run out on you?”

  Sam rolled his eyes.

  “After sex.”

  Sam sighed. Alan was deriving a lot of pleasure
from this, it was more than obvious.

  “Sex-pot, tongue-lickin’, Sam the Stud Muffin, had a woman run – actually run – from him?”

  “Yes, Alan, Carly took off. Happy?”

  “Wow.” Alan grinned slowly. “No wonder you’re in knots.”

  “It’s not because she ran off,” Sam retorted a little sharply, dropping down into the armchair and folding his arms across his chest. “It’s because she…”

  “Yeah?”

  “She…”

  Alan leaned forward expectantly. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Alan slapped his forehead. “It’s like talking to SJ after he got de-nutted by the vet. He had that same dazed expression when he went to lick them and found them gone.”

  “Look, it happened suddenly. It wasn’t planned. It-”

  Alan’s gaze sharpened. “You wore protection, right? You remembered to put on a condom?”

  “Geez, what are you, my father?”

  “Sam! Holy cow, how can you be so irresponsible?”

  “I got a condom on, okay?” Sam flung one hand in the air. “And this from the biggest chick chaser in history.”

  “And that’s why I know what I’m talking about. Anyway, now that that is out of the way, down to business.” Alan cocked one ankle across the opposite knee. “Now what?”

  Pulling off his glasses, Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I’m going to have a shower.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “But we need to discuss your next action.”

  Sam cast him a wary glance. “No, we don’t.”

  “Sure we do. Now, what have you got planned?”

  “Nothing! Nothing is planned, and that’s the whole problem.”

  “Why is it a problem? Spontaneity is fun.” Alan grinned. “Ask Soph.”

  Sam sighed. “I appreciate your concern, Alan, I really do, but I’m gonna have to think about this alone.”

  Alan sobered. “I can listen.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I need to sort myself out.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? This is uncharted territory for you. You’re normally the runner, not the chaser.”

  “Who says I’m chasing?”

  Alan studied him for several seconds before a small smile played around his lips. Standing up, he crossed the space between them, slapped Sam on the shoulder in passing and made his way to the door. “You keep telling yourself that, Sam.” Laughing, he walked out.

  As soon as he heard the front door shut, Sam got up and started towards the hallway. He hadn’t gotten far before he turned around and went back to the window, calling himself all kinds of an idiot as he pulled the curtain back a little and peeked out.

  Carly wasn’t in the driveway anymore, but a thin woman was talking to Ed while Crusher snuffled at her booted feet. Ed shook his head and spoke seriously to her, and the woman nodded. They both turned and walked into the house, Crusher dancing around their feet.

  Dropping the curtain, Sam shook his head and turned to see SJ sitting in the doorway.

  “You know that horror flick I was going to get? I’m going to get it.” Walking out into the hallway, he scratched his head. “Shit.”

  SJ past him on his way to the kitchen.

  “I don’t suppose you know where the car keys are?” Sam asked him. “Just as a matter of interest.”

  He could swear SJ was shaking his head as he disappeared into the kitchen.

  He knew the feeling.

  Chapter 6

  “Hey, Carly,” Ed called.

  “In here,” she answered.

  “I’m going out for awhile.”

  “You’re a big boy now, sweetie, you don’t need my permission.” Smiling, Carly looked up from where she sat reading a magazine at the kitchen table, only to start in surprise when she saw the woman behind her young Uncle. “Charlie?”

  “Hi.” Charlie gave a little wave, her smile uncertain but friendly. “Can I steal Ed for a little while?”

  “Sure.” A quick look at Ed’s face showed the smile in his eyes.

  “I’ll just have a quick wash and change my clothes.” He strode past Charlie. “Make yourself at home.”

  Walking into the kitchen, she sat down and placed her leather handbag on the floor beside the chair. “I hope you don’t mind me just turning up like this.”

  “Not at all. Would you like a drink while you’re waiting?” Carly gestured to the glass of cold water she had on the table.

  “No, thanks.” Charlie glanced around. “Nice place.”

  “We like it.”

  Carly watched her as Charlie folded her arms on the table and took a deep breath. Knowing she wanted to talk, she waited her out. It was an old trick of Carly’s father, to wait in silence until the person grew uncomfortable enough that they’d blurt out every sin just for something to say.

  It worked this time, too.

  Charlie looked up at her. “So I picked up my bike at Ed’s shop.”

  Encouragingly, Carly nodded.

  “We had a little chat.” Charlie rubbed her finger on a thin gouge in the old, wooden table. “I know a bit about what happened.”

  “A bit.”

  “Most of it, actually.” Charlie glanced up at her. When Carly only nodded again, she said bluntly, “Ed’s ex was a real bitch, wasn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she was.”

  “Telling him at their engagement party that she was leaving him was a shitty thing to do.”

  Carly nodded, waiting to hear what else Ed had told Charlie. “Very shitty.”

  “He’s a little shook up over it still.”

  “Not shook up. Hurt. Mostly embarrassed and ashamed he didn’t see it coming.”

  “She’d planned it for awhile.”

  “Yes.”

  Charlie studied her. “He told me everything.”

  Carly nodded.

  “How Mia took all the money from his home stash, sold the engagement ring, and ran up a huge debt on his credit card.”

  So, Ed had opened up about everything. “Yes.”

  Charlie looked down at her hands before glancing back up at Carly. “Do you think he’s over her?”

  “He’s over her, but not what she did. It hurt. He nearly lost everything.”

  “So he won’t find it that easy to trust again.”

  “I’d take things slowly with Ed. He comes across as happy and easy, but he’s a lot more careful than he used to be.”

  “I understand.” Charlie nodded.

  Carly leaned forward. “Charlie?”

  “Yes?”

  “I think you might be a nice girl. I hope so. Because if you hurt Ed like his rotten ex did, I’ll kick your arse from here to Christmas.”

  Charlie gaped at her. “What?”

  “Ed’s my uncle. He’s a great guy. I love him, and if you hurt him, I’ll come looking for you.”

  “I didn’t hurt him that night, Carly, I swear. His ex came in and started talking to him, they started to argue and I thought it best if I go. I didn’t know what was happening.”

  “I know. Ed told me. I’m talking about you now.”

  Ed chose that moment to appear in the kitchen doorway, a clean t-shirt on under a leather vest. “Hey, Charlie, you ready?”

  “Sure.” Slowly, her gaze fixed on Carly, she stood.

  Carly smiled and relaxed back in the chair. “Have fun, you two.”

  Ed ushered Charlie out of the kitchen.

  Carly had just started flicking through the magazine in front of her again when Charlie appeared in the doorway.

  “Forgot my bag.” Crossing to the table, Charlie retrieved her bag. Straightening, she looked gravely at Carly. “I won’t hurt Ed. You have my word on it.”

  Carly nodded.

  Charlie smiled widely. “I like you. You’re honest and to the point.” Turning, she left the room.

  Picking up the magazine, Carly looked to where Crusher sat on the floor lo
oking at her expectantly. “What?”

  His tongue lolled out, his little bug eyes looking towards the pantry and back at her.

  Knowing exactly what he was after, Carly retrieved the treat jar from the pantry and opening it, took out a rawhide strip and tossed it him. Crusher leaped into the air and caught it mid-toss, whirling around in delight before trotting to his basket in the corner and curling up to indulge in some lip-smacking enjoyment.

  Carly wished she could relax as easily. Every time she didn’t keep tight control of her thoughts, all she could see was Sam above her, feel his thickness and girth inside her, his hard muscles and smooth, hot skin against her body.

  A deliciously decadent shiver went through her. She certainly wasn’t going to lie, it had been the most mind-blowing, erotic, amazing thing to have happened to her. To think that Sam Willow, hot, surfy-handsome, gorgeous-bodied Sam had actually felt desire for her.

  She wasn’t like the other women who came knocking on his door. Every single one was out to seduce him, but all she’d expected was friendship. It had turned into so much more, at least for one very hot encounter that just the memory had her squirming a little in her seat.

  But it was one encounter. Did he regret it? Did he wish he hadn’t done it? Probably. May be he was over there right now, wondering what he’d seen in the fat little sheila living across the road.

  Scowling, she strode from the room. Demeaning herself was something she tried to never do, didn’t think about much, in fact. She knew who she was, a worthwhile person. She wasn’t perfect, but then no one was, regardless of what they thought. She’d accepted herself a long time ago, knew she wasn’t the kind of woman accepted by today’s standards, that many men didn’t spare her a second glance, and normally she was okay with it, had made up her mind just to be herself and stop worrying. So why doubt it now?

  Because Jonathon had given her confidence a beating.

  Because next to Sam, she felt…well, damn, he was prettier than she! He had this perfect body, and this perfect face, and the women he dated were perfect and…

  And she’d had sex with Sam Willow on his hall floor.

  And he’d wanted it, had initiated it. That had to mean something, right? It wasn’t as if a man like Sam just screwed every woman in sight for the experience. No, she might not know him like an old friend, but her gut instinct, which had stood her in good stead over her life, told her that Sam was a nice bloke, a decent bloke. He wouldn’t have used her as an experiment, a quick shag to amuse himself.