When the credits begin to roll, I turn off the movie and look over at her. She’s wearing a sad smile as she turns to me. She reaches out and places her hand on my forearm in sincerity as she presses her other hand to her chest.
“Thank you, Cameron. I’ve really enjoyed spending the evening with you.”
Hearing those words causes my heart to race. I nod once. I can tell she’s one of those women who cares about the little things—the gestures, and the small selfless acts that usually go unnoticed. Whoever she ends up with will be a lucky son of a bitch. I just hope he doesn’t break her heart.
“I have as well, but I think we should both get to bed. We have an early morning ahead of us.”
She presses her lips together and nods once. “Right, a morning full of pain and embarrassment.” She stands. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I whisper, watching her walk away. Once again my eyes fall to her firm, perky ass I watch her delicious hips sway back and forth with each step.
When she slips out the door, I groan and let my head fall into my hands as I rub them vigorously across my face. Finally, I stand and head for my room. I strip out of my now-wrinkled suit and crawl beneath the covers, drifting into a deep Samantha-less sleep.
My alarm goes off at five a.m. I roll over and silence it quickly, then push myself up, refusing to lie in bed any longer. I’ve never been a lazy, lounging-around kind of person. It drives me crazy to relax. I much prefer getting up and having an early start to my day. I step into the shower, washing my body quickly before thoughts of Samantha’s lips or ass can permeate my brain again. Once finished, I quickly towel off and shave before dressing.
Since it’s Sunday, I ignore the row of perfectly pressed suits and grab a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. I roll the sleeves up to my elbows, then pull on a pair of comfortable boat shoes. Even though it’s the weekend, I still always make sure I’m dressed well, something I picked up from my father. I look myself over in the mirror and spray on some cologne. Checking the clock, I see it’s now going on six. I open the door and step out into the hall, needing to wake Sam for her day of grooming.
I knock lightly before opening her door. The light from the hallway floods into her dark room, lighting up a small sliver across the floor, wall, and bed. Her fluffy black cat lifts its head and yowls at me; I swear it’s cussing me out for waking it.
I step into the room and place my hand on Sam’s exposed ankle, gently shaking it. “Time to wake up, Samantha. You have a busy day ahead of you.”
She jerks her foot away, grabs something off the nightstand, and throws it my way. I quickly dodge it, suddenly remembering her warning.
“Hey!” I shout, walking around the bed to take away whatever is left on the bedside table. “Wake up,” I tell her again, hitting the button on the remote to turn on the light.
“Ouch!” she cries, covering her eyes with her forearm.
“Get up,” I try again.
“No, give me that remote.” She begins to push herself up.
I take several steps backward. “Come and get it,” I tease.
Her eyes narrow into small slits and her brows pull together, causing a crease to form between them. She stumbles across the floor toward me, but I quickly sidestep in the direction of the bathroom. I pretend not to notice her erect nipples through her barely-there t-shirt as she lunges toward me. Her long, shapely legs are exposed beneath the oversized shirt, and I can’t help but quickly wonder if she has anything on underneath.
“There, you’re up. Now, go shower and get ready.” When she steps toward me in an attempt to get the remote, I gently push her toward the bathroom.
She shoots me a dirty look, but then walks into the bathroom and shuts the door between us.
“She wasn’t kidding, was she, Cocoa?” I say, tossing the remote on her bed and heading for the door.
The cat lifts its head to look at me once again before closing its eyes as if I don’t even exist.
I shake my head. “Typical. Why the fuck am I talking to the cat now?” I ask myself, stepping back out into the hall to go downstairs.
I go into my home office and turn on the lights and computer before heading back out to the dining room. The table is already set and covered with platters of food.
“Good morning, Mr. Styles,” Kathy, the maid, says.
“Good morning. How are you?” I ask, taking my seat while she pours me a cup of coffee.
“Very well, thank you. Are you ready for breakfast or just sticking with coffee for now?” she asks, handing me the morning paper.
I look over the selection. “I’ll take some coffee, orange juice, fruit, and toast. Thank you.”
She picks up my plate and serves everything I’ve asked for.
I’m done eating when Samantha walks into the dining room. She sits across from me and pours a cup of coffee. I fold up the paper and look directly at her.
“How was your shower?” I look her up and down and note she’s wearing the Gucci athletic outfit I bought her yesterday. The spandex material hugs every curve of her body so well that it looks like the outfit was made specifically for her. Her dark hair is sopping wet and pulled into a messy bun atop her head, and her face is completely bare of any makeup. It’s obvious she’s not a morning person.
She frowns. “It would’ve been better had I gotten up at noon instead of six.” She shrugs. “But, whatever. What’s for breakfast?”
I let out a chuckle. “If you want something you don’t see here, all you have to do is ask.”
She stands and puts a little of everything on her plate: a few pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, strawberries, and then a heaping serving of biscuits and gravy. She pours a cup of coffee and sits down, tearing into a slice of bacon. She closes her eyes and moans softly. “This is amazing,” she whispers to herself.
A soft laugh escapes my lips at the fuss she’s making, but it’s more to distract myself from my growing erection that soft moan of hers caused. An image of me licking every inch of her naked body spread out across the breakfast table bounces through my brain.
I clear my throat to bring my mind back to where it needs to be. “With all of the moving day excitement yesterday, I forgot to give you this.” I pull my wallet from my back pocket and open it. Removing the white envelope, I lean forward and hand it to her.
She takes it and looks it over before opening it. Inside, she finds a check for twenty-five thousand dollars and a key to the house. Her eyes grow wide with surprise, and I see her swallow.
“Wow. I mean, I knew what I was getting paid, but actually seeing it makes it so…surreal.”
“The key will let you in the front door and the entryway gate if for some reason there is no guard on duty or if the keypad isn’t working. I also had an email sent to you with the gate code as well as the garage and the alarm system codes.”
She nods and places everything back into the envelope before setting it on the table and continuing to eat. She picks at her food for a moment as she falls silent. I don’t know for sure what’s bothering her, but I’m sure the fact that I just handed her a check for her “services” has something to do with it.
I fold up my paper and place it on the table. “I’ll leave you alone to enjoy your breakfast in peace. There are some last-minute things I need to take care of before we leave for the week.” I stand. “My driver is on standby to take you to your appointments.”
“Cameron?” she asks, causing me to stop before I leave the dining room.
“Yes?” I turn back to face her.
Her eyes are downcast, staring at the food on her plate. “Will you come with me? I’m a little nervous.” The tone in her voice tells me she’s filled with uneasey. I can tell by looking at her that she isn’t the kind of woman who is new to the salon.
My smile cracks, but I’m not sure why. A part of me is screaming “no,” but something deep inside me is happy that she wants me there with her.
“Finish breakfast while I get some thin
gs done, then we’ll go together.”
Her eyes jump up to me and her wide smile takes over. “Really?”
I press my lips together and nod once before turning and heading for my office.
I take a seat at my desk and turn my attention to the computer screen. I check my email and send replies, then move on to confirming our flights in the morning. I go over my schedule for the month, RSVPing to every event—a way to show off my new fiancée—then shut everything down. I’m walking out of my office just as Sam comes down the stairs.
She motions toward her body. “Do I look okay or do I need to go back up and change? I mean, I realize that I’m wearing, like, two thousand dollars’ worth of spandex, but you are a lot more dressed up than me.”
I smile. “You’re beautiful.” I’m not sure why I chose those words to affirm that her outfit was fine for the occasion. “Shall we?” I hold out my arm.
She loops her arm around mine, and I lead her out the door to the awaiting limo. We both climb in the back seat. “Would you like something to drink? The car is fully stocked.”
Her brows lift with surprise. “Maybe a strong drink will help settle some of these nerves.”
I laugh and pour two glasses of champagne. “It’s really not as bad as you’d think. There is numbing cream. Really, it’s more awkward than anything else.”
“I hope so,” she whispers, lifting the glass to her lips and swallowing down a sip.
I sit back in my seat and take a sip of my own drink. “How about we keep your mind off it, huh?”
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
I didn’t mean anything dirty by it, but somehow, it’s been twisted that way. I can’t hold back my grin or the wink I send her way.
She laughs loudly, then smacks my bicep playfully. “Nice try, but it will take many more of these before that happens.” She holds up her glass. I’m taken aback by how free-spirited and confident she is in herself—letting her loud laugh fill the car without a second thought. The women I’m used to being around are insecure and constantly fishing for compliments and affirmation.
“Good to know,” I shoot back.
She rolls her eyes, but she can’t hold back her smile.
“So, what all are we going to be doing on this trip we’re taking?” she asks to change the subject.
I shrug. “I don’t really know. We’ll be staying on Mr. Smithfield’s estate, in his guest house to be more specific. I’m sure I’ll have a few meetings with him, we’ll have dinner, and they’ll probably take us out to show us how they spend their time—really drilling into my head that they prefer church services and square dances over clubs and drinking.”
She snorts. “So, I’ll need to be dressy-casual.”
“I’d vote to bring a little of everything. I’m nothing if not prepared.”
She nods her head just as the car comes to a stop.
“Shall we?” I ask, pushing for her to open the door and climb out.
She takes a deep breath and swallows the last of her drink. “Let’s do this.”
We arrive back home just as dinner is being placed on the table. Sam is being dramatic, walking with her legs stiff and bowlegged.
I laugh. “It’s not that bad,” I tell her, removing her jacket and handing it off to the maid.
“How would you know? Do you have a vagina? Have you ever had boiling-hot wax spread across your bits and then had your hair ripped out by the roots?!”
I snicker. “Well, no.”
“Then don’t tell me it’s not that bad.”
“The soreness will fade. Let’s have some dinner, then you can go up and soak in the tub. Epsom salt will help with the pain and aid in the healing process—just don’t use super-hot water, otherwise it could get infected,” I say, leading her into the dining room. I pull out her chair and she sits down. “You’re hair looks beautiful, by the way.”
This causes her eyes to brighten. “I do love the hair. It’s so shiny and smooth. I have to get that hair treatment more often. And I have to admit, the nails are pretty cute.” She holds up her hand to show off the manicure. “By the way, how do you know so much about waxing?”
Before I can answer, she throws her hands up in the air and follows up her question with a quick, “Never mind, I do NOT want to know!”
I smile and brush it off as I take my seat. “I know the waxing sucked, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like not having to shave for the next several weeks. And the more you do it, the easier it will become.”
She snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever do that again. But thank you for the day. Other than the wax, it was fun and relaxing. I can’t believe you got a mani-pedi with me.”
I laugh. “It’s the little things.”
We both sit and eat our steak with baked potatoes and side salads while drinking a bottle of wine between the two of us.
“The maid has spent her day making sure we’re both packed, and she agreed to take care of Cocoa while we’re gone. You have nothing left to do other than get plenty of rest so we can wake up bright and early.”
“On that note, I think I’ll excuse myself for that bath and try to get some sleep.” She stands and moves toward the door. “I’m sorry if I hit you with anything this morning.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow I’ll be more prepared and will move things before I try waking you. Maybe I’ll pull out my old catcher’s mitt and face mask just in case.”
She offers up a smile, then turns and leaves me alone. I sit back and watch her go, wondering what this feeling is. There’s some piece of me that’s connecting to her. Sure, she’s hot as hell. She’s funny, kind, and friendly. For some reason, I find myself wanting to make her happy—wanting to see her smiles and hear her laughs. It’s completely foreign to me. I’ve never had an urge to do something for the happiness of others. I’ve never thought of anyone but myself. Why is she making me rethink everything I thought I knew? I haven’t slept with her. I don’t have a long friendship with her. She’s nothing more than a woman I hired to play a part. But the closer we get, and the more I learn about her, the more this urge consumes me.
Chapter 9
Samantha
I walk into my room and throw myself down on the bed. Cocoa immediately jumps up, meowing in my face as she grazes my nose with her fur. I giggle and pull her against my chest, cuddling her closely. “How’s mama’s girl today?” I ask, and she purrs.
“I’ve had a long day, Cocoa. You think taking a bath is bad? Try having every hair on your body ripped out.”
She doesn’t respond or even look at me, but I continue. “But I have to admit, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. More awkward than painful. And I did enjoy the mani-pedi and hair salon.” I laugh. “Cameron isn’t the guy I thought he would be. He’s funny and actually kind of sweet. He’s not all business all the time either. In fact, had I met him before all this went down, I probably would have asked him out—well, if I didn’t know about his “love ‘em and leave ‘em” pattern, that is.”
Cocoa looks up at me, completely unfazed.
“I know, you don’t care about anything other than licking yourself.” I release her and roll to my feet. “You clean yourself and I’ll go clean myself.” Without another word, I head to the connected bathroom, ready to soak my war-torn bits for a while.
I fill the Jacuzzi tub as full as it will go, adding in some kind of expensive body oil I found under the counter and some Epsom salt, then slide down into the depths. The water covers my body completely, and the oil coats me like a second skin. It feels as if I’m drinking it up—like my body has been dying of thirst and it’s finally getting a drink of cool water. When I push the button and start up the jets, bubbles build a thick layer along the top. The sweet mixture of vanilla and jasmine wafts up my nose, and I melt into the sensation as I lay my head back and close my eyes.
The hot water helps to relax my tired muscles, and the smell of the oil calms me. Sleepiness settles over me as
I think back on my day with Cameron. I think about how he laughed out loud the first time his feet were touched during his pedicure. He’s so ticklish, he could barely hold still. His face turned red and his eyes lit up. I laughed so hard at him my eyes watered.
I think about how his hand grazed mine when he handed me a glass of wine before my wax. I can almost still feel the tingles that took over my body with his touch. It makes my stomach tighten in anticipation. My heart starts pounding harder and faster as I picture his sexy face. His strong, firm jaw looks like it could cut glass, and when he flashes me his smile, it looks like a row of sparkling white Chiclets in his damn mouth. If Disney created a prince mixed with an Adonis, it would be Cameron Styles. His dark eyes seem to intensify when I walk into a room. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I swear I saw it today. There’s desire burning behind them; I just know it. The only question is: does he want to change our contract? Does he want to be with me—not in a relationship, but for a quick fling? Just one night to let go of everything holding us back. Is that something I want?
I know without a doubt that I want to know what it feels like to have him between my legs, but would it change things between us? I like the Cameron I’m getting to know. I don’t want to put our friendship in jeopardy, especially if I have to live with him for the next several weeks. But we’re both consenting adults. Why can’t we have a little fun? No feelings or expectations—just some hot, emotionless sex.
I let out a long, deep breath as I push those thoughts away as the contract comes back to mind. I’m kidding myself. We aren’t actually friends; he’s just being friendly and cordial as any human in this position would be. I’m just a contract to him—a simple business transaction and nothing more. The sooner I remember that, the easier it will be to ignore the way his firm ass fills out his tailored suit pants. I still think it would be mind-blowing sex, but I guess we’ll never find out.
Claimed By Him: (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 77
