by Donna Hill
“I don’t need you to drive me home.” She stumbled over an invisible crack in the street and Adam caught her around the waist.
“I’m taking you home. End of story.”
“What about my car?” she mumbled, leaning her weight against him.
“I’ll take care of it. We get you home and in bed and I’ll come back for it.”
She looked up at him, a crooked smile on her chestnut-brown face, her gaze slightly cloudy. “Never had anybody to just look after me, ya know. Nobody besides my folks. You’re a nice man, Adam,” she said, her compliment one long word. She rested her head against his shoulder as they made their way to his car.
“If you’d let me, I’d take care of you all the time.” He kissed her forehead before opening the passenger side door and helping her inside.
He got behind the wheel and started the car.
“Are you going to spend the night?” she asked, the inquisitive tone of a curious child lacing her voice.
He turned to look at her and her head was already back, her eyes closed.
“What did you and your sister talk about in the ladies’ room?” Chad finally asked as they pulled up in front of Samantha’s house.
They’d hardly shared two full sentences between them since they’d left the club, and it was a question she’d anticipated him asking.
“Why she was drinking so much, for one…you, for another.”
Chad cut the engine. “The two aren’t connected, I hope,” he responded, keeping his tone light.
“Strangely enough, it seems as if they are.” She angled her head toward him, monitoring his needless actions: checking the car keys and the CD player, and making a point of adjusting the rearview mirror. “Did you sleep with Simone?” she asked point-blank.
“Let’s go inside, Sam.” He opened his door.
She jumped out on her side. “Damn you, answer me!” she demanded, slamming her palm on the roof of the car, the frustration of the past few hours bubbling over.
He walked toward the house, utterly conflicted about what he should say. This was getting entirely too messy. “I’m not going to discuss my private life, such that it is, out in the street.” His shoes crunched on something broken.
Samantha stormed up behind him, determined to get an answer once and for all.
“Wait!” Chad commanded, the force of his voice causing a shiver to run through her. He stepped closer. More crunching. He peered through the darkness to the layers of broken glass littering the entrance to her house. The curtain billowing out of the ground-floor window halted them both. “Get back in the car.”
Her heart started to pound. “Chad…”
“Go back, Sam, and get in the car,” he ordered, enunciating every word. He walked up the three steps to the front door and saw that it was partially open. He pushed it open farther with his foot, and total chaos spread out before him.
Chapter 24
“Looks like your garden variety B&E,” the officer said indifferently. He gazed around. “Anything missing?”
Samantha curved tighter into Chad’s embrace. “I don’t think so,” she said softly.
He made a note in his pad just as his partner walked in from outside. “A bunch of broken glass, but not much else,” he commented. “I’d board that window up if I were you.” He looked at the mess in the front room. “Really trashed the place, huh?”
Chad felt Samantha’s body jerk as if she were about to leap out of his arms. He held her tighter. “Will there be anything else, officers?” he asked through clenched teeth.
The first officer lifted his beaked cap and ran his fingers through thick red hair. He gave Chad a hard look from ice blue eyes. “Call the precinct in the morning and get your file number, sir. If you discover anything missing make a list and bring it in.”
“You’re that Montgomery woman, aren’t you,” said officer number two. “Always in the paper.”
“Ain’t life funny, Jimmy,” commented the first officer, heading for the door. “First ones to cry police brutality, down with the pigs, are the very ones who call us when they get in trouble.” He hitched his pants and tipped his hat.
The second officer’s face turned fire-engine red as he lowered his gaze and followed his partner out the door. “’Night, folks. Don’t forget to get your case number,” he mumbled.
They watched the officers leave, and it took all of Chad’s powers of restraint to keep from ripping the door off its hinges when he slammed it shut. He turned toward Samantha and was rocked to his core seeing the blank unfocused look in her eyes and her arms locked around her body as if she could single-handedly ward off whatever or whoever was out to hurt her.
Gingerly, he crossed the room and stepped up to her. He lifted her chin with the tip of his index finger. “Sam,” he gently said. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
She nodded numbly, looked around, shivered, then focused on something he could not see.
“Fine, let’s get you settled and I’ll try to clean up some of this mess.”
“Don’t call them,” she urged in a sudden whisper.
“Who?”
“My family…I don’t want them to know.” Abruptly, she grabbed his shirt. “They can’t know, Chad, promise me.”
He cupped her cheek, his fingers tangling in her locks, and his heart seemed to stumble in his chest when he saw the terror swimming in her eyes. “Sam, baby, it’s okay.” Gently he pulled her against his chest and felt her entire body tremble. He stroked her back. “Whatever you want. All right.” Her head bobbed up and down against his chest. “Come on, let’s get you settled. We’ll figure all the rest of this out in the morning.” He started to guide her toward the stairs when she stopped cold.
“Tomorrow… My mother’s coming tomorrow.” She pressed her hands to her face. “Oh, God…I can’t…she can’t know. She can’t.”
“Just calm down, Sam.” He pulled her hands away from her face and forced her to look into his eyes. “Listen to me. It’s going to be all right. We’ll work it out. If I have to stay up all night getting this place together, I will. If you decide you want to tell your family, it’s up to you, not me. But…I have to tell you, one way or the other they’re bound to find out.”
She blinked rapidly, pressing her lips together. Her entire body felt as if her skin were crawling, aware that something unseen was still out there, lurking, waiting. The fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up. She drew in a long breath. “You’re right.” A tear slid down her cheek. “They do need to know. They could be next.”
“Come on.” He draped his arm around her shoulder and led her upstairs.
It would be so easy to make love to her now, here, in her bedroom, the shadows of light and dark playing across her skin. Adam stepped closer to Simone’s bed. She looked so soft and peaceful. Vulnerable. A combination of all the things he’d never witnessed before in her.
Simone stirred gently between the sheets, her eyelids fluttering. She turned onto her back. “Adam,” he thought he heard her say. He moved closer.
Her eyes flickered open, closed, then slowly opened again. “Adam.”
This time he knew she’d said his name. He sat on the side of her bed and brushed her hair away from her face.
“Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Lousy hostess, huh?”
“Not to worry.”
“My car?”
“Took care of that already. It’s parked right out front next to mine,” he added with a teasing smile.
“Hmm. That sounds kind of nice…the thought… you know.”
“Yeah, I think I do.” He swallowed and slowly stood. “I better get going.”
Simone sat up in the bed, her hair a bit wild and unrestrained, her eyes bright and her skin glowing from the brief hour of sleep. She’d never looked more beautiful, more inviting, almost innocent, than she did at that moment, Adam thought. He knew he had to leave—then—or he wouldn’t be able to.
“Why?” she asked so soft
ly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her. Her gaze held steady as she waited for his response.
“Simone… I… You know how I feel about you. Don’t—”
“—Ask you this if I don’t mean it,” she said, completing his sentence.
He slid his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her again. “Exactly.”
“I don’t do anything I don’t mean, Adam. I think you know me well enough to know at least that much.” She laughed derisively. “Things don’t always turn out the way I expected, but I can always walk away knowing that I did it with my eyes wide open.” She raised her chin as if to dare him to challenge her statement.
“I stay and then what, Simone?”
“That’s what we’ll figure out…together.”
“This is a big turnaround from earlier this evening. That whole thing at the club.” He knew he was pushing his luck, risking the chance that, yes, she’d agree, this wasn’t as it seemed. But he had to know for certain. No games, no surprises in the fourth quarter.
She sat up farther and the sheet slid down to her waist. Her blouse was partly unbuttoned. The laced edges of a pale-colored bra contrasted enticingly against her honey-brown flesh. Adam forced his gaze to rise and settle on her eyes.
“I never had a chance to answer you before…they came in,” she said softly.
“And…”
“And I want to see what it could be like, Adam. I can’t make it any simpler than that. Do I still think about Chad? Yes. Does it do something to me inside to know that he’s with my sister? Yes. But you know what, that’s life and life’s a bitch. Simple as that. I can either spend the rest of mine kicking myself, or I can move on. And in between those four margaritas I decided to move on. And no, I’m not drunk, not even tipsy.”
He took in all that she’d said. Made sure he wasn’t only hearing what he wanted. He’d waited a long time to reach this point. The process had been a slow but relentless one. Inside he smiled.
“Mind if I use your shower?” he asked.
She tossed the sheet aside and stood. Her voice was low and inviting. “Let me show you where everything is.”
Chapter 25
Samantha wrapped a towel around her body, still damp from her recent shower, and padded across her bedroom floor, keeping her door slightly ajar. The sound of Chad’s movements below was infinitely reassuring.
Sitting in front of her dressing table mirror, she was stunned to see the strained look around her eyes, the fine lines, that she was certain had not been there weeks earlier. She pushed her locks back from her face, fastened them with a leather tie, and removed the ivory and wood earrings from her lobes. Gently, she applied a thin film of moisturizer to her face, mindful of the required upward strokes.
Her body felt weary and suddenly old, she realized as she screwed the cap back onto the jar. All her muscles felt tight, coiled, unused. She wasn’t sure if it was her fragile emotional state or her overworked mind playing havoc with her generally fit body.
She reached for her favorite vanilla massage oil and began at her feet, kneading each toe and the ball of each foot. Moving up, she rubbed the heavenly scented oil into the curved muscles of her legs and up her thighs, using her thumbs to press out the knots, loosen the muscles. She stood and released the towel that was tucked beneath her arms. It dropped into a pool of fluffy sea green at her feet. She poured a handful of oil into her palms and slowly ran her hands together before applying it to the tight rise of her behind, dip into the curve of her waist, across the taut terrain of her stomach, up to the high arch of her full breasts.
An unexpected sigh slipped from her lips, and her eyes squeezed shut as she tenderly rubbed the round globes in a slow circular motion. She nearly wept at the sudden pleasure of being touched, and felt the deep throb from between her thighs that caused her legs to momentarily weaken.
Her hand trailed downward, stroking, once again, her fluttering stomach. Fingers splayed when they reached the tangle of soft down—seeking…
He could have watched her forever—a majestic feminine beauty, illuminated by candle and moonlight. Her exquisite body glimmered in the light, the tight sinews of her form shimmering beneath her touch. Never before had he been so taken, so overcome with the sensuousness, the eroticism of touch, as he now experienced while watching Samantha.
Somehow, he felt the depth of her feelings, her need—not rushed, not demanded, but simply a desire born of knowing who you are, and not being afraid of that sexual soul. But rather, embracing it, welcoming it, succumbing to it.
He heard her soft whimpers, the steady escalation of her breathing, as she sought and found her pleasure. Blind desire roared through him as her pants grew more rapid, her once slow movements picking up their pace. He wanted to be the one to bring her release, to fill the need deep within her, and perhaps in some way he did—when “Chad” rushed up from her throat and her body shuddered in the final throes of ecstasy.
For several moments he stood there, mesmerized at having witnessed something so intimate—so surreal. And something inside of him opened, softened, welcomed the possibility of the experience. Standing there, watching her, connected with him in a way that a physical joining would never have achieved. Unknown to her, they traversed an invisible barrier and met on a higher plane.
Slowly he turned and eased back down the hall to the stairs, the feeling of having been enchanted following him.
Samantha gazed into the mirror, saw Chad’s retreating form and wondered if he’d felt it, too.
They were both wet. Thin streams of perspiration ran along their hairlines, hung from their lashes, coated their naked bodies. The rush of hurried, harsh breathing began to ebb. Heartbeats thumped, skipped, stuttered into a regular rhythm. Their bodies still hummed, almost vibrated and Simone was acutely aware of the void her body now felt with Adam no longer filling it. She moved closer, needed desperately to reconnect, to feel that feeling again.
Lying there with Adam made her so aware of how lonely she’d actually been, how needy, but refusing to accept that those weak emotions could be a part of who she was. To acknowledge that about herself was something she’d been unprepared and unwilling to do—until now. Until Adam.
Funny, she thought, sighing when his arms wrapped tighter around her, all along a chance at happiness, at fulfillment, had been shining like a diamond in the rough, and she’d been too blind, too obsessed with the past to see it.
Adam lifted her damp, curling hair from her neck and placed a kiss there, sending a series of shudders through her body. Smiling at her response to him, he pulled her closer, their spoon-fashion repose giving him easy access to the wonders of her form. He shut his eyes, let the languid sensation of satisfaction flow through his veins. Whatever he needed to do to ensure that Simone would remain a permanent part of his life, he would do. Whatever…
Vaughn wasn’t certain why she was so nervous. She’d barely been able to get her coffee down without her stomach rebelling. She’d changed outfits three times, put her hair up, down, then back up again. All during the night she’d tossed and turned, lingering between sleep and awake, until finally she slipped out of bed at five and went to the den to watch a mindless middle-of-the-night movie.
She peered at her reflection in the mirror. “What are you afraid of? Janice Montgomery is a woman, just like you.” She lightly coated her lips with a hint of cinnamon lipstick. “You’re a congresswoman for the United States, you decided policies, you dine with heads of state, the president calls you by your first name,” she continued to chide herself. What is it about this woman that has you questioning your worth?
She knew the answer. It was simple. Janice Montgomery had been married to her husband. She’d shared his bed, his hopes, his fears. He loved her once, and she loved him back. They had a life together, shared dreams…and a child. On that expansive playing field she felt that she could equally compete. All except one area. She and Justin had no natural children together. It was a connection he shared with Janic
e alone. And neither time nor distance would ever alter that. Janice had something with him she could not duplicate. And it scared her. Even though Samantha was an adult, Janice and Justin were still her flesh-and-blood parents. And times such as these, when they were forced to come together for their child’s benefit, drove that fact home.
“About ready, babe?” Justin stepped into the room, adjusting his tie.
Vaughn watched him in the mirror and her stomach seesawed and her heart pounded just as it always did when she saw him. She released a breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She reached for her watch and fastened it onto her left wrist.
“Ready as you’ll ever be? You’re not walking the plank, baby. Just going to the airport—”
“To pick up your ex-wife, Samantha’s mother,” Vaughn said, cutting him off.
Justin walked up behind her and clasped her shoulders. “What is it, Vaughn?” he asked gently. “You think I didn’t know you were awake half the night?”
She turned to him, frowning. “The least you could have done was ask me what was wrong.”
The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “And what good would that have done? You would have told me it was nothing and for me to go back to sleep. Like you always do when something’s on your mind and you haven’t sorted it all out yet. You tell me when you’re ready. Not a minute sooner.” He gave her a puppy dog look. “I’ve come to live with it.”
“Ooh, it just burns me when you go into your clever routine.” She stood, and barely a breath separated them. “So you think you know me, huh?” she quizzed in her throaty voice.
He put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Believe me, baby, figuring you out occupies all my free time and brain cells.”
He laughed. She swatted his arm.
“So…ready to tell me now, or do you need more time to work it out?”
Vaughn turned out of his embrace and crossed to the farthest end of the room. She sat on the banquette beneath the bay window. “Why am I jealous of Janice?” she bluntly asked, staring at Justin dead-on, hands folded neatly on her lap.
