by Jaid Black
Sam had to wonder what Gwenyth would think about marrying when they’d only been reunited for less than a week. Something told him she’d never go for it. Gwen would have to go off to somewhere and “think about it”…probably until they were too old to enjoy the benefits of getting shackled.
“I can’t believe it,” Harry enthused, breaking Sam from his thoughts, “The Brian Goodman. Here. At my campaign dinner.” He shook his head. “Too much good fortune to believe.”
Sam frowned, his Southern lilt carrying a hint of annoyance. “Alright already. He’s not that great. In fact, I’m beginnin’ to like him less and less.”
“What did I do now?”
Sam turned on his heel, then grinned at his buddy Brian. Brian Goodman was probably the only other person on planet earth Sam trusted as much as he did the members of the Jones family. They’d been close friends for five years now, meeting each other when Bri had been traded to the Crusaders.
They’d had a lot of good times together, the two of them. Brian was the only guy on the team who got chased as relentlessly by the ladies as Sam did, so they understood each other at many levels. Of course, at six-foot-two and muscled as all hell to boot, the blonde ballplayer was a good lookin’ son of a gun, Sam supposed. Hell, he didn’t know. Other guys didn’t really notice shit like that. “What didn’t you do, is usually the better question when your name’s involved, Bri.”
Brian winked. He extended his hand to Harry and shook it. “Brian Goodman. It’s nice to meet you at last. I’ve heard a lot about you from Sammy.”
“Harry Jones. And the feeling is mutual. Sam’s told me a lot about you as well.” Harry grinned, immediately liking the pitcher on the spot. “You have to stay long enough to meet my sister.” He glanced over Brian’s shoulder and smiled. “She’s the one in the black dress, walking this way now.”
Sam’s ears perked up. It annoyed him to think he reacted to Gwenyth’s arrival as a dog would after being separated from its master all day. The woman was driving him crazy. Just call him Fido and toss him a bone. And when he spotted Gwenyth—lord have mercy—he realized he had more in common with Fido than he first thought. His mouth all but salivated at the picture she made.
Her dress was long, black, and slinky—the kind of dress men fantasize about taking a woman out of. As she strolled toward them, smiling and waving at people en route, he noticed the slit up the right side that opened when she moved, showing off a sexily tanned leg. The front of the dress was cut low, causing Gwenyth’s cleavage to spill out provocatively without looking trashy. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, falling in the sexiest, strawberry-scented ringlets Sam’s eyes had ever beheld. He was hard as a rock.
Brian whistled through his teeth. “That’s your sister? Damn! Introduce me!”
Sam shot the pitcher a look that could hurl daggers. Startled by his friend’s overt jealousy, Brian quickly took the hint, but he couldn’t stop the knowing grin that spread across his face. Sam Tremont was falling fast and hard for a woman.
Harry chuckled as he watched his sister amble toward the three of them. He hadn’t caught the look that signaled Sam’s intense interest in Gwenyth so he said what was on his mind. “My sister has that effect on men. The interesting thing about it is that Gwen honestly doesn’t seem to notice.”
Sam couldn’t stop the spurt of possessiveness that rose up from Harry’s words. “What do you mean she has that effect on men?” he bellowed.
Shocked by his burst of temper, Harry’s head snapped around to regard Sam. Sam took a deep breath when he realized Harry had guessed his proclivity right on the money. He could see it in his old pal’s eyes. The man might be a bit of a prude, but he was hardly stupid. Sam had never met a more intelligent guy than Harry Jones.
Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you sleeping with her?” he gritted out.
Sam shuffled on his feet and blew out another breath.
“Sweet Jesus, I don’t believe it!” Harry fumed in a heated whisper, not wanting a reporter to overhear their conversation. “Some best friend you turned out to be!” he hissed.
“Now wait a minute, Harry!—”
“No, you wait a minute!” Harry ran an agitated hand through his tawny hair so much the color of Gwenyth’s. “That woman over there happens to be my sister, Sam. My sister! She’s not some goddamn groupie you can just fuck and cast aside!”
Sam’s teeth clenched. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs, as angry as he was that Harry could believe he’d ever do that to Gwen. But no matter how pissed off Harry was making him, he’d never jeopardize his friend’s chances of going to Capitol Hill. “I assure you that where Gwen is concerned my intentions couldn’t be more honorable.”
That sentence alone caused Brian’s eyes to widen and took the sails right out of Harry’s steam. Neither of them had ever heard Sam say something like that about another woman. Not ever. Not even regarding Stacy.
“Are you serious, Sam?” Harry asked softly. “You plan to marry Gwen?”
“Yes!” Sam stated emphatically. And the more he thought on it, the more he knew the statement was true. So what if they’d only been reunited for less than a week? He and Gwen had known each other for over twenty-one years. “Just as soon as I can get Cupcake to say yes,” he qualified somewhat sheepishly.
Harry and Brian both laughed at that. Harry clapped him on the back. “In that case, you’re forgiven.” He raised his eyebrows in a teasing gesture of mockery. “And good luck with Gwen.”
Sam grumbled something unintelligible along the lines of thanks, I’ll need it.
Across the room, Gwenyth was morosely aware of the fact that the closer she got to Sam, the faster her heart began beating. And he looked oh so fine in his tux, so sophisticated and polished. As the memories of their heated lovemaking rose to the forefront of her brain, Gwenyth’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly. She turned to Candy for moral support, but then remembered that her best friend had gone off to the ladies room “to tinkle” as Candy had so eloquently phrased it.
Gwenyth apprehensively bit into her lip. She’d have to approach the trio of men alone. The two fair-haired men, including the one she didn’t recognize, didn’t frighten her in the least. But the dark-haired, sinfully sexy one in the middle certainly did.
Good grief. That flight to LA couldn’t begin boarding soon enough.
As Gwenyth drew closer, she smiled warmly at the three handsome men, leaning up to kiss her brother’s cheek once she stood before him. “Congratulations Harry. This evening is wonderful already.”
Harry smiled lovingly down at her. “Thanks for putting off the Vantrys long enough to be here, Gwen. It means a lot to me.”
Gwenyth nodded then turned her gaze toward Sam. There was something belligerent about his appearance tonight that reeked of danger, of possessiveness. He smiled down at her, but the gesture didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “You look beautiful tonight, Cupcake.”
Gwenyth could feel herself blushing. She’d never gotten embarrassed when Sam called her by his pet name for her in the past, but now that they had been sexual together, the name seemed to take on a more intimate meaning. “Thank you, Sam. You look pretty handsome yourself.”
Sam inclined his head, then motioned to the stranger standing beside him. “Gwen, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine. This is Brian Goodman. He’s the starting pitcher for the New England Crusaders. Brian, this is Gwenyth Jones.”
Brian held out his large, callused hand and grasped Gwenyth’s smaller one in it. He gallantly raised her hand to his lips and kissed it sweetly. “A pleasure to meet you, Gwenyth.”
Gwenyth grinned, already disarmed by the charming, handsome man. “Likewise. And please, call me Gwen.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed into menacing slits. Gwen only let people she liked call her by the shortened version of her name. Unable to control the primitive need to publicly brand Gwen as his own, Sam wrapped his well-muscled arm around her shoulder in a gesture of unmist
akable territorialism. “Are you hungry, honey? It’s almost time to eat.”
Gwenyth’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. Sam was all but declaring them a couple before her brother. She glanced nervously at Harry, but saw nothing condemning in his expression. In fact, he looked rather pleased. “Yes, I am a bit hungry,” she stammered out. “But we have to wait for Candy before we take our seats. She should be back any moment now.”
Sam caressed the nape of Gwenyth’s neck in a way any outsider would have taken as a symbol of normal affection for a girlfriend. Harry and Brian knew better. They realized it for the possessive action it was. “Whatever you want, Cupcake.”
Sam’s jealous.
That thought, as ludicrous as it would have seemed to Gwenyth only a few short days ago, now seemed the highly probable answer. The skittish side of her nature rebelled at the possibility that Sam was publicly staking claim to her. The romantic, hopeful side of her nature was giddy with excitement about it.
Gwenyth concentrated on steadying her breathing. She looked around the ballroom for Candy to distract herself from the butterflies in her stomach. “There she is.” Gwenyth stood on tiptoe and waved across the ballroom to her best friend.
Candy waved back, then glided quickly toward them. She was all black braids, dark caramel skin, and slinky red dress. And she had Brian Goodman’s undivided attention.
“Sam Tremont! Is that you?”
Sam grinned at Candy as she came barreling toward him. He’d always liked Gwen’s best friend. She was a feisty little thing, and as good a friend to Gwen as any person could ever be. “Well Candy Crawford, look at you.” He released his hold on Gwenyth’s neck long enough to hug the romance author. “You grew up to be as purdy as I don’t know what.”
Candy kissed him on the cheek then turned to Harry and offered him the same greeting. “Congratulations,” she murmured before turning back to face Sam.
“What?” Sam teased in mock horror, placing a hand over his heart. “Do my eyes deceive me or are you actually not chewin’ gum?”
Gwenyth giggled. “I made her spit it out before we walked in.”
“Ahh, that explains it.”
Candy glowered at him, though her semi-smile made it impossible for him to take her stern look seriously. “Married any emaciated women lately?”
Sam threw his head back and laughed. Candy always could dish it out as quickly as it was given to her. “Nah. Not lately, sweetheart.”
Sam stopped a passing waiter and offered glasses of champagne to everyone assembled around him. Harry accepted it and thanked him, then took his leave, needing to use every available moment to mingle with potential contributors and voters. “So, Can, how does it feel to be a famous romance author?”
Candy frowned. “About as interesting as it feels to be a famous baseball player I would imagine.”
Sam snorted. “That bad, huh?”
Candy considered that for a drawn out moment. “No, I like it most of the time. But sometimes I want to spread my wings and try other things.”
Gwenyth chuckled, bemused. “Sometimes?” She shook her head, grinning widely. “That black eye Webster Carr gave me was due to one of Candy’s attempts at ‘spreading her wings.’”
Sam smiled halfheartedly, not caring overmuch to talk about a man he planned to tear apart one day in the not too far off future. Still, he could hardly be rude. “How so?”
Gwenyth’s dimples popped out as she grinned at her best friend. “Candy decided to try out journalism so she talked me into following her into the woods to snap the now infamous photos of Senator Green and the NAMers.”
Candy winced. “I still feel guilty about that.”
Sam needed to change the subject. He didn’t want to think about Webster Carr. He could already feel his blood pressure rising. He inclined his head toward Candy. “I take it you gave it up?”
“Yeah. I decided that I was born to write novels. For now,” she added with a wink and a grin.
“You’re a hell of a good romance writer, Can. That last book you had out a few months back…” Sam whistled through his teeth. “Steamy.”
Gwenyth smiled up at Sam. “The Spinster Virgin was one of my favorites too.”
Brian’s ears perked up. He turned to Candy, his eyes widening. “You’re that Candy Crawford? You wrote The Spinster Virgin?”
Candy noticed Brian standing there for the first time. Her jaw went slightly agape. Good lord the man was gorgeous! “Y-yes,” she stammered out. “One and the same.”
“I don’t read much,” he sheepishly admitted, “but after seeing the movie I bought the book.”
Sam shook his head, vexed with himself. “Where are my manners? Candy, please meet my friend Brian Goodman, starting pitcher for the New England Crusaders. Brian, this here is my Gwen’s best friend Candy Crawford.”
My Gwen?
Gwenyth hadn’t missed that little two-letter “my” Sam had used to describe her with. The butterflies grew worse.
Candy and Brian smiled into each other’s eyes and shook hands. The tension radiating between them was palpable. Candy was the first to break through the haze. She discreetly turned from him and cleared her throat. “A pleasure, Brian.”
“Likewise, Candy.”
Gwenyth bit her lip and eyed Candy knowingly. For all her best friend’s talk, she was just as nervous around an interesting, good-looking man as Gwen was. Candy glared briefly at Gwenyth, no doubt wishing like hell she had a piece of bubble gum to chew on.
“Well then, shall we eat?”
Chapter 9
Harry’s campaign dinner was turning out to be a smashing success. With the election only two weeks away, Gwenyth could only hope that the momentum of the evening carried through to Super Tuesday. Sam sat next to Gwenyth throughout dinner, his manner toward her very proprietary. His arm had remained draped across the back of her chair the entire evening, straying occasionally only long enough to brush her cheek or rub the nape of her neck.
Granddad Willy had raised his eyebrow questioningly at one point, but after meeting Sam’s authoritative gaze, had acquiesced with dignity, inclining his head in approval of their courtship. A noble gesture on Granddad’s part. An extremely paternal gesture. A gesture that had Gwenyth worrying her lip half the evening. It seemed that everything was moving a bit fast.
Sam had lost his cool only once throughout the seven-course meal. Thankfully, that once had been obvious to no one but family. The incident had occurred after Trevor approached their table. The lawyer had kissed her cheek and gushed profusely over how gorgeous she looked. Trevor had ogled her chest embarrassingly. Gwenyth had immediately felt Sam tense in reaction, the muscles in his arm bunching up behind her neck. In retaliation, Sam had nuzzled Gwenyth’s ear with his teeth. Verlene had looked away, hiding a smile behind her raised glass of champagne.
Three hours later, Gwenyth shed her clothes and plopped into bed naked. She was too exhausted to worry about putting on a nightgown. Between having to stay on her best behavior for Harry’s benefit and the overwhelming feelings for Sam that seemed to grow more and more overwhelming with each passing minute, she was all wore out. Not to mention depressed.
Yes, damn it, she could admit it: the thought of leaving Sam tomorrow morning to get on a plane and go to LA was not as appealing as it should have been. She should have welcomed the respite, cherished the time away to collect her thoughts, but truth be told she was dreading it. Sam Tremont had managed to wiggle his way back into her every thought in the span of a few short days as if he’d never left them. Another depressing thought…
Gwenyth exhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes to go to sleep. She needed to get some rest. She could sort all of this madness out while she was in California. Tomorrow, after all, was another day.
* * * * *
Gwenyth awoke to the feel of Sam thrusting gently into her body. The muscles in his neck were corded, his biceps bulging, as he stroked in and out of her at a leisurely pace. When her eyelids flutt
ered open and she met his gaze, he crooked his face down to kiss her. “I missed you, Cupcake,” he whispered thickly. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensation of being inside of her tight pussy. “God baby, you feel so good.”
Gwenyth wrapped her thighs around Sam’s narrow waist, clinging to him as tightly as she could. When they were like this, making love, being a part of each other, she had no doubts as to how she felt about him.
She was in love with him.
Sam groaned softly then picked up the pace of his thrusts. His hands sought out her nipples as his hips rotated, grinding into her body until she climaxed. He continued to work at her nipples the way she liked best, grabbing them at the root and pulling gently but firmly to the crest, over and over. Never stopping. Never relenting.
Gwenyth orgasmed again.
Sam felt the second set of tremors course through her body, pulling him deeper inside of her, closer to her core. Knowing his own orgasm was coming on quickly, he kissed Gwenyth fully on the mouth, his tongue delving inside to meet with hers. She felt the vibrations of the low rumble in his throat as he thrust once more before spurting his cum deep inside of her.
They fell asleep together, clinging to one another, their bodies knowing the needs of their hearts far better than their minds did. Not that their minds weren’t learning. It was more a matter of accepting what their hearts already had.
* * * * *
Gwenyth smiled at the front desk clerk after the affable older woman handed her the card key to her hotel room. She nodded once in thanks then followed the bellhop to the set of polished silver elevators just off the main entrance to the lobby. Two minutes later, Gwenyth was shown into her suite and her suitcases were set next to the bed. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a ten to tip the bellhop with, but he held out a hand to forestall her. “The Vantrys have already seen to that.”
