by JB Heller
But as reality sets in, it dawns on me: I threw my three-dates rule out the window.
“You okay?” Sam asks, stroking my back with gentle fingers.
I swallow then nod. It’s okay. It was just one little rule. No big deal, right?
Sam’s hand stills on my shoulder. “Hannah, did I do something wrong?”
Licking my lips, I run my gaze over his concerned face. “I have a three-date rule. I don’t like to sleep with someone until we’ve been out at least three times, and I—” I sit, tugging the blanket with me and wrapping it around my mostly naked body. My legs tangle in my tights still wrapped around my ankles, and I kick and thrash, trying to dislodge them.
“Hey,” Sam says, taking my legs in his hands. “Let me help.” He tugs off my boots, dropping them on the floor with a thud, then removes my tights.
“Thank you,” I murmur, embarrassed by my little spack-out. Tucking my legs beneath me, I lift my eyes to Sam’s ridiculously handsome face. “Sorry. I’m not usually weird after sex.”
His brows furrow as he stares at me with so much intensity I have to look away.
A warm palm cups my jaw, turning my face to look at him. “I’m sorry for coming on so strong tonight. I had every intention of being a gentleman—that is, until my eyes landed on you.” A gentle smile curves his lips. “Everything about you throws me off center. And when I saw you tonight . . . the drive to claim every single part of you took over, and it was all I could think about.”
Well, when he says that, how can I be upset about it?
I lift my hand and place it over his, still holding my jaw so gently. Such a contradiction to the amazing sex we just had. “I’m not blaming you. I just have these rules, and they help me keep things straight in my head. I overreacted. It’s not a big deal that we rounded all the bases a little earlier than I expected. I’m definitely not complaining.” I grin, hoping like hell he understands.
Sam nods, and his thumb strokes my bottom lip. “If it makes you feel any better, we can count the night we met as our first date. That makes tonight date number three.”
My cheeks pull tight as my smile spreads across my face. Then, I throw the blanket to the side and launch myself at him. He falls back, and I end up straddling his incredible body. I run my greedy hands across his sculpted chest, marveling at every rise and fall of his muscles.
“You’d better stop touching me unless you’re ready for round two,” Sam warns me with an upward thrust of his hips. His dick glides against my butt, and I spin around. He’s getting hard again.
“Already?” I ask, shocked and delighted.
The grin that crosses his lips is downright wicked. “Apparently so.”
I scurry off of him and reach for the spent condom still covering his length. Discarding it in a tissue from my side table, I open the top drawer and grab a fresh one. Sam’s eyes follow me as I tear the package open, remove the condom, then toss the packet over my shoulder. He chuckles then chokes on the sound as I wrap my hand around his thick dick and roll the rubber to his base.
The buzzing of my alarm wakes me from a deep sleep. I slap my hand around until it lands on it, and I turn it off. I’m usually up before it even has a chance to go off, but not after last night. It’s official: Sam is a very talented lover with unbelievable stamina.
I’m not sure what time it was when he pressed his lips to my shoulder and murmured his goodbyes. I was so exhausted I think I was asleep before he was even out of my apartment.
Rolling out of bed, I snatch my phone and stumble to the bathroom. Dropping onto the toilet, I read a text from Sam as I relieve myself.
SAM ~I’m ready for date number four when you are. But this one’s on my terms.~
Warmth fills my chest, and I set my phone aside and get in the shower. My body is sore, but in a you-had-incredible-sex-several-times-last-night kind of way.
I’m still smiling when I arrive at work an hour later. I’m in such a good mood I don’t even care that the food-preppers are down a man, thus my girls’ breakfast is running late. I’ve never been one to sit still, so I start loading what has been prepared with my babies’ vitamins.
“You’re awfully chipper this morning,” Tami, one of the preppers, says, nudging me in the ribs with her elbow.
I waggle my brows back at her. “I’ve had four very good reasons to plaster this smile on my face recently.”
She bursts out laughing. “Damn, girl. Where can I get me a man who delivers like that?!”
“I don’t even know how I got him,” I tell her, shrugging. And the statement rings true. Why did Sam and Tom approach Amy and me in the first place? I don’t buy that Tom couldn’t get a table, but I didn’t even think to ask. And now it’s bugging me.
I finish stuffing the last chunk of tuna with a horse-sized vitamin then go scrub my hands in the huge stainless-steel sink. After pulling my phone from my pocket, I send Sam a quick text, asking him about it.
ME ~So, you never did tell me why you guys crashed Amy’s and my girls’ night…~
Violet approaches as I slide my phone away. “Morning, Vi.”
“Hey, Han. You busy? Wanna help me bring my guys in?”
“Sure.” We have to move the turtles into a separate area when we feed the sharks since we use the same method to feed them. We don’t want one of my girls getting a little overeager and taking a chunk out of one of Violet’s turtles if they swim on over, thinking it’s a snack for them.
Vi hands me one of the colored rods we use to signal the turtles, and we make our way to the top of the tank. It doesn’t take Mate and Sheela long to spot their rods in the water and come over.
“Thanks. It’s easier with two people. I’m on my own today. Leila’s down with something,” Vi says as she hands a cabbage leaf to Mate.
“Something must be going around. The preppers are out a man today, too. Anyway, let me know if you need a hand with anything else. I’m off to feed my babies.”
It takes four people just to feed my girls, then another to operate the shoots that release food into the water at the bottom of the tank to keep the bottom feeders happy. Plus two more who scatter food at the opposite side from where my girls are fed to keep everyone else away.
Walking back into the prep room, I scoop up the bucket labeled Tina. “Let’s go, people,” I call, and everyone nods as we file out of the room, buckets and feeding poles in hand.
There’s one feeder assigned to each shark. Tina is my main girl and the largest of our collection. She’s a ten-foot tiger with a little bit of an attitude. Then there’s Ruby, our blacktip reef shark; Lulu is a lemon shark; and Bertha is a bull. The girls have all been trained to feed from the same spot at the same time every feed.
My phone chimes in my pocket, and I pull it out. Sam has replied to my earlier text.
SAM ~We were hungry and two beautiful women were eating alone. It made sense to ask if we could join you.~
But that doesn’t explain them talking to Mike at the bar and him clearly pointing at me from across the room before they headed our way.
ME ~I totally saw the conversation you guys had with the bartender and him pointing at us. What was that about?~
My phone rings in my hand before I can put it back in my pocket. It’s Sam. “Hey,” I answer.
He clears his throat. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m about to feed a ten-foot tiger shark. You?”
I chuckle at his muttered curse before he replies, “Nothing so life-threatening. Are you free for lunch later? I think it’s best if I explain the bartender situation in person.”
My brows furrow. “As intrigued as I am now, I can’t. We’re short-staffed today.”
“Okay, how about tomorrow?” he counters.
I nibble my bottom lip. I don’t have time to talk right now; all the other feeders are waiting on me. “Crap, I’ve gotta go. I’ll text you later, okay.” I end the call before he responds.
“Sorry, guys, let’s do this!” I say,
forcing a smile I’m not quite feeling. Why does Sam need to explain in person? And why did he call it a situation? That makes it sound like it’s a big deal. An unwelcome feeling settles in my gut.
She hung up on me.
I stare at my phone in shock. This is another first for me.
Maybe I handled that wrong. Should I have acted like I didn’t know what she was talking about when she asked about the bartender? I lean back in my chair and look out at the cityscape beyond the floor-to-ceiling window of my office.
Last night was amazing. We were amazing together. And if I’ve fucked that, I’ll be royally pissed. But so far, I’ve been completely honest with Hannah, and I have no intention of lying to her now.
I don’t think she’ll be angry with my reason for seeking her out that night. From what the guys in the bathroom were saying, she should be right on board with what I want with her. We probably should have discussed it before last night happened, but it’s not like I planned to fuck her brains out.
Before I can dwell on it all for too long, Tom throws the door to my office open and struts in wearing the most hideous suit I’ve ever seen. I burst out laughing. “What the hell are you wearing?”
He flips me off. “This beauty is from Bobby James’s new exclusive line, thank you very much. It costs thirty-six thousand dollars,” he says, running his hands over the lapels.
I roll my eyes. “Just because it’s obscenely expensive does not mean it’s worth it. That thing is”—I examine the eggplant-purple atrocity—“an eyesore.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Sammy. It’s not my fault you lack the confidence to pull off a suit like this. Also, I simply pointed out how much it costs. I didn’t say I paid for it. Bobby asked me to be the face of his new line.”
“And you said yes? Was that before or after you saw it?” I ask, genuinely curious now.
Heaving a sigh, he drops into the chair across from me. “Before, but that’s irrelevant.”
It’s after eight when I finally hear from Hannah.
HANNAH ~Sorry for the late message. Work was crazy busy. This week isn’t going to work out for me. We’ve got a few people down with the stomach flu. I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you.~
After last night, I’m hornier than a teenager. I don’t want to wait a whole week before seeing her again. But she’s already called me a creeper once, so I’m not going to tell her that.
ME ~Okay. Next weekend then?~
HANNAH ~Sounds good. Let me know where and when.~
I send her the address of my favorite restaurant, Alejandro’s, then tell my secretary to make a reservation for next Saturday evening. I don’t actually have any intention of waiting until then to see Hannah, though. If she can’t get away from work, I’ll go to her.
Now that I know she knows it was no accident that brought us together, I have an overwhelming urge to explain myself.
Three days later, I got Tom to give me the security codes to enter the restricted staff zones behind the scenes of The Aquarium. He didn’t even ask why I wanted them; he simply gave me a knowing grin then handed them over.
After punching in the code on the digital lock at the staff entrance by the rear parking lot, I go in search of Hannah. A guy wearing a wetsuit steps in front of me, placing a hand on my shoulder, attempting to steer me back toward the exit. “You can’t be back here, sir.”
I dig in my heels, look at his hand, then pluck it off, dropping it away from me. “First, don’t touch me. Second, I can go where I please, and third, where’s Hannah?”
His forehead scrunches as he eyes me. “Who are you and what do you want with Hannah?”
A feminine voice comes from down the hall. “Sam? What are you doing here?”
I sidestep the guy and stride toward a similarly dressed Hannah. “Bought you lunch,” I say, gesturing to the takeout I picked up on my way here. “You couldn’t get away from work, but I could. So, here I am.”
She frowns at the brown bag in my hand then leans toward it, sniffing. “What is it?”
“Medium rare eye fillet with garlic sauce and a side of fries.”
Her eyes light, and she snatches the food from my outstretched hand. “Follow me,” she says over her shoulder as she walks farther down the hallway.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I’m on her heels, my eyes fixed on her ass swaying as she goes. It looks amazing wrapped in that skintight blue wetsuit. But I’m not the only one who notices. The guy who stopped me before is also watching her. I close the distance between us and curl a possessive hand around her small waist, walking beside her instead of behind her.
Hannah leads us to a room at the very end of the hall then closes the door behind me. I don’t miss the click of the lock or the seductive little grin on her pretty mouth when she does it.
Glancing around, I take note of the two couches pushed against the wall and the table with long bench seats on either side. When I turn back to Hannah, my mouth goes dry. She’s tugging down the zipper on the front of her wetsuit, slowly revealing more and more of her creamy flesh.
I swallow. “You don’t want to eat your steak?”
All I get is a shake of her head, then she’s on me. I trip backwards, landing on the couch behind me, and she quickly scrambles into my lap. Her lips press to the edge of my jaw, followed by a sweep of her tongue with a roll of her hips over my growing hard-on.
“Jesus, Hannah,” I groan. I came here to feed her and talk. As horny as I’ve been, I didn’t intend on fucking her at her place of work. But the way her hips keep rolling over me, that’s exactly where this is going.
I grip her waist, holding her still. “We should talk. I wanted to—”
She cuts me off with a swipe of her tongue over my bottom lip. Christ. I tried. That counts for something, right?
Dragging one hand along her now naked spine, I tangle my fingers in her damp hair and tug her head back. She squirms in my lap when I lift my mouth to her slender throat and suck. A moan escapes her, and her hands yank at my belt then undo my fly.
I let go of her to dig my wallet out of my pocket. Hannah takes it from me, snatches the foil package out, then drops the leather to the couch beside us. I’m transfixed as she wraps one hand around my length and slides the condom down my shaft with the other.
She strokes me, once, twice, three times. Then I lift her and swing, depositing her on her back on the couch. She helps me rip her wetsuit off, kicking it to the floor when it’s free of her ankles.
She is so damn beautiful spread out beneath me like this: hair damp and splayed around her head like a halo, nipples hard and peaked, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession. I glide a hand down her throat, over her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts, and across her taut stomach.
“Sam, just fuck me already!” she demands, reaching for my cock and tugging it toward her entrance.
I steady myself with a hand beside her head, but refuse to enter her until I’m sure she’s wet for me. “Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I instruct. When she complies, I reach between us, run two fingers through her folds, then push them inside her slick heat.
Hannah squirms. “Please, Sam.”
My cock jolts at her plea, and I remove my fingers, bring them to my mouth, and suck them clean before dropping to kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my tongue.
Shifting my hips, I align myself with her entrance and thrust hard and deep. I still for a moment, enjoying the feel of being inside her again.
She digs her heels into my ass. “Fuck me, Sam. Please fuck me. You feel so good,” she whimpers, wriggling her hips beneath me.
“Such a dirty mouth,” I croon, gliding my cock in and out in long, slow strokes. She squirms beneath me. “You want more, baby?”
She nods frantically.
“I’m going to need you to say it, Hannah. I like that dirty little mouth of yours.” I continue to taunt her with excruciatingly slow glides in and out of her. It’s killing me, too, but
I want words.
She moans, her heels pressing relentlessly into my ass, trying to force me to go faster. “Please, Sam.”
“Please what? What do you need, Hannah?”
A frustrated growl rips from her lips, her eyes blazing with fire as she says, “Fuck me hard and fast, Sam. Now!”
My lips quirk in what I’m sure is the most cocky grin I’ve ever worn. “As you wish,” I whisper over her kiss-swollen lips. Then, I give her what she wants. I pull out almost all the way then slam back in hard and fast just like she’s asked.
My day couldn’t possibly get any better. Sam surprising me with not only lunch, but a steak lunch. And then the quickie on the couch . . . I am so blissed out right now.
Sam is refastening his black suit pants as I lie here taking him in. I’m too sated to move just yet.
“What?” he asks with a raised brow.
I give him a lazy smile. “Nothing. Can’t a girl simply enjoy the view?”
He gives my thigh a playful smack. “Come on. Your steak will be getting cold.”
“A good steak tastes good hot or cold. And I’m willing to bet you didn’t bring me a subpar steak.”
Sam shrugs then offers me his hand, and I take it before sitting with his assistance. He passes me my discarded wetsuit. “Have you got something else you could put on, or is this your uniform?”
“I was actually on my way back here to get changed when I saw you,” I tell him as I walk naked to my locker then pop it open and grab a fresh pair of underwear and clothes.
I feel his eyes on me as I slide the black lace thong up my legs. Peeking over my shoulder, I give him a wicked grin.
He clears his throat. “You wear sexy lingerie every day, or are you trying to kill me?”
“Every day. There’s something empowering about wearing sexy lingerie under regular clothes. It’s like I have a secret that nobody else knows.”
“Well, now I know. And I like it,” he says, stepping into me from behind. “A lot.” He takes the clasp of my bra from me and fastens it himself before gliding his hands along my naked sides.