Bringing Down Sam

by Leslie Kelly

  She crushed that voice ruthlessly, stomping it with mental stiletto heels worn by nearly every cell in her body that would swear he loved her.

  Chopping up some veggies with ruthless precision, she was startled into dropping the knife when a knock sounded on her apartment door. Her heart lurched, as did her stomach, but she forced the reaction away. She hadn’t even gotten around to giving Sam her address; it couldn’t be him.

  Wondering if one of her neighbors had decided to pop in to see where she’d been for the past few weeks, she wiped her hands on a dish-rag and went to the door. When she looked out the peephole, and saw the golden-brown haired man standing outside, emotion welled-up within her. Obviously, he had tracked down her address.

  She yanked the door open, tears rising to her eyes. “Sam?”

  “Are you speaking to me?” he asked, his whole body tense, his voice low and uneasy.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “I wasn’t sure. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see my face again.”

  Never see him again? That would kill her, it surely would.

  But the best way to convince him of that wasn’t with words. Saying nothing, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  “Ditto, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  Reaching down, he picked her up, holding her hips so she could wrap her legs around his waist, then walked into the apartment. He kicked the door shut behind him and they stood there, right in the foyer, clinging to one another. They’d made love like this once—him holding her with those powerful arms, driving into her as she arched mindlessly back, knowing he’d never let her fall. But this wasn’t sexual, it was filled with tenderness, fueled by emotion. They simply didn’t want to be apart for a moment more.

  Eventually, she lifted her head and looked up at him, seeing that his beautiful green eyes shone with moisture.

  “Did you really think I wouldn’t want to see you?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Crazy man. I’m in love with you, Sam,” she murmured, unable to hide that fact anymore. “The past couple of days have been the longest of my entire life.”

  “I am crazy in love with you, too, Eve,” he admitted as he moved his mouth to hers.

  Their lips came together in a soft joining, their kiss asking the most important question—Do you still want me?—and answering it—Oh yes.

  Finally, she let him go and he lowered her to her feet. Taking him by the hand, she pulled him into the living room so they could sit down and talk. But she didn’t want to be away from him, not even a few feet, so when she gestured toward a lounge chair and he sat on it, she made herself a place right on his lap.

  He squeezed her around the middle, saying nothing.

  Eve, sensing what had made him ask that crazy question about whether she wanted to see him, voiced her suspicion. “You know?”

  “Of course,” he said with a brief nod. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up all over the place, adorable and sexy. “I’m so damned sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Sure it is. I fell for you and made you a target of a spoiled, rich man who doesn’t care who he steps on as long as he gets his way.”

  Swallowing hard, she whispered, “I didn’t want to be a wedge between you.”

  His jaw fell and he stared at her intently, as if looking for the truth in those words. “You mean, that’s why you left and didn’t call or anything? Because you were worried about me?”

  “Yes. Why did you think?”

  He barked a hoarse laugh. “I thought you were trying to figure out whether you wanted to be involved with the son of someone so rotten.”

  “Uh, haven’t I told you about my father? Did you read that article?”

  His hands tightened around her waist. “I mean, I didn’t think you wanted even more drama and angst in your life.”

  “I want you in my life, Sam,” she said, her tone fervent. “I just didn’t want it to be at the expense of your family.”

  “It’s not,” he told her.

  “So you and your father…”

  “Oh, him I’m never speaking to again. But we weren’t much of a family, anyway.”

  She heard the pain through the flippant words. “Sam, you can’t…”

  “Of course I can. And I did. I thought about it all weekend, went in to the office this morning and turned in my resignation letter. Then I called my father, told him he was a manipulative bastard and that I was through letting him try to pull the strings on my life and hung up.”

  Her mind reeling, she tried to imagine that conversation. “He didn’t say anything, offer any kind of explanation?”

  “Oh, he stumbled and stammered a bit, tried to play innocent, but I told him to save it for someone who wanted to hear. Which I didn’t.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t say that—we’re the ones who owe you an apology.”

  She dropped her head onto his shoulder, gently kissing the side of his neck, rubbing her fingertips over his broad, hard chest.

  Sam reached down and lifted her face to him so they could kiss again. This time their mouths opened and their tongues met in a hungry exploration. Until Friday, they’d been together every day for two weeks; even the brief separation had left her hungry and restless.

  “Damn, I’m crazy about you,” he muttered against her mouth.

  Eve turned around to face him, straddling him on the chair, cupping his face in her hands as they kissed again and again. It tasted different, somehow, to kiss a mouth that had sworn he loved her, and Eve felt certain she would feel this combination of ecstasy and satisfaction for the rest of her life if only he was by her side.

  Eventually, his hands went to her waist and hers went to his top button. He pulled and she tugged and clothes went flying to the floor. He kissed his way down to her chest, plumping one breast with his hand and tweaking her nipple while covering the other with his mouth. He sucked gently, tenderly, and she almost cried at how good it felt.

  “I need you, Eve.”

  “I need you, too,” she whispered, lifting her soft skirt all the way up so her bare legs rested on his khaki-covered ones.

  He smoothed his hands up her thighs to her sex, his fingertips moving easily beneath the elastic edge of her skimpy panties. When his thumb skimmed over her clit, she jerked, desire exploding within her. Sam continued to explore for a minute, touching her gently at first, then more firmly as he slid one long finger into her wet channel and gently thrust in and out.

  She whimpered, feeling so good but needing so much more. Rising on her knees, she shimmied as he tugged the panties away. She had to grip the chair behind his shoulders when he moved his hand right back to where it had been, adding another finger to the mix as he pleasured her into a frenzy.

  “Gotta have you,” she said between hoarse, choppy breaths. Reaching for his belt buckle, she unfastened it, her hand shaking as she felt the rigidness of his cock. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Ditto.”

  He stretched out a little, reaching for his pocket. Eve put her hand on his, stopping him. “It’s been two weeks since I started back on the pill. And I trust you completely, Sam.”

  He smiled up at her. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Eve, I swear it. Making love to you without any kind of barrier has been my fantasy since day one.”

  “Mine, too.”

  He stopped digging for the condom and concentrated on pushing his pants and boxer briefs down and out of the way. She wouldn’t even give him time to get them all the way off, almost desperate to feel that thick ridge of masculinity inside her, skin to skin.

  Clutching his shoulders, she lowered onto him, easing down, impaling herself on him in one slow, deliberate thrust.

  He groaned, holding her tight. She stayed very still, savoring every sensation.

  Any sex with Sam was good. This was lovemaking—totally
natural, uninhibited and right. Good didn’t even come close to describing it.

  They began to move together, rocking, thrusting in a gentle give and take. But it had been three long nights since she’d had him. She’d missed him so much that within just a few moments, she was driving herself hard, slamming her body down onto his lap, taking them both spiraling to the utter pinnacle of human pleasure.

  “Yes, Eve, God, baby, yes,” he cried, his fingers digging into her hips, his mouth on her throat.

  One more twist and plunge and she came, hard, crying out his name. Sam thrust into her once, twice, then exploded inside her.

  She collapsed on top of him, boneless, breathless, totally fulfilled and happy. Sam held her close, kissing her gently, making no effort to disengage. She didn’t want him to leave her, loving the feel of his flaccid cock, still warm and wet within her.

  Her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, knowing she could easily fall asleep like this…and suspecting that when she woke up he would be hard inside her again.

  “You want to show me where your bedroom is before you drift off?” he said with a chuckle.

  She waved a hand toward the hallway. Sam—so strong, so powerful—rose off the chair, holding her, and carried her back to her bedroom. He followed her down onto the bed, still wrapping her in his embrace, still inside her body.

  “I love you, Sam,” she said right before the sated lethargy washed over her.

  She fell asleep hearing him whisper, “I love you too, Eve. And I always will.”

  When they woke up from their brief nap, Eve launched into a hundred questions, all of which Sam tried to answer.

  She was primarily concerned about him quitting his job. Sam wasn’t. He had other options, his books being enough to support him just fine for now. He could freelance, he could sell another book, and he could probably pick up the phone and have a position with another men’s periodical within a day if he wanted one. No, the job thing wasn’t worrying him at all.

  His family situation? Well, that was a little more difficult.

  “Come on, let’s go have something to eat,” she said, finally rising from the bed. “I was making a salad when you got here.”

  “If you’re going to keep having your wicked way with me, I think I’m going to need a steak,” he said with a grunt.

  “Wicked?”

  He leered. “Oh, yeah. Most definitely wicked.”

  They worked together in the kitchen to prepare dinner, then sat at her small table, eating a meal by candlelight, drinking red wine and making plans for the future. Good plans. Great ones. Plans that included him moving here, or her moving to the city…them living together being the most important part.

  Finally, once they’d finished eating and sat back to finish the wine, Eve licked her ruby-red lips and said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you find out, anyway?’

  Not understanding, considering she’d left the papers right on the coffee table for him to find, he replied, “I saw the article. Didn’t take much to put together who’d done it.”

  “Saw it where?”

  Now really confused, he replied, “On the table at my place…where you left it.”

  Eve’s eyes rounded into circles and she slowly lowered her wine glass. “What?”

  “On the coffee table.”

  She still seemed astonished. “It was on the coffee table? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I probably got home not long after you left and figured you’d torn out of there in a hurry. I do wish you’d left me a note, though. I was really worried.”

  “But I did!”

  Now it was his turn to be confused. “Huh?”

  “I would never have just taken off like that without a word. I swear to you, I left a note that I had to leave unexpectedly and asked you to call me in a few days.”

  Huh. Strange. “Maybe Quigley…”

  “Did Quigley also go to Kinko’s and make a copy of that article?” she asked, her tone seguing from confusion to suspicion.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Sam, I did not leave that article in your apartment.” As if needing to prove it, she got up, went into the other room and came back carrying a manila envelope. “This is the only copy I had, and I most definitely took it with me.”

  Sam leaned back in his chair, staring at her, knowing the cogs in her brain had to be whirring just as hard as his were. Certain something strange was going on, he asked, “Where, exactly, did you get that article, Eve? Who gave it to you?”

  She didn’t hesitate before replying, “Robbie. Your cousin.”

  Robbie? Had he been playing henchman for Sam’s father? If so, why hadn’t he said anything when Sam had run into him at work that morning? Sam had told the other man he’d resigned and that his father’s schemes were to blame. Robbie hadn’t actually come right out and admitted he knew about the blackmail thing, but he’d sure hinted at it broadly enough, confirming Sam’s suspicions about what had happened.

  “He asked me not to tell you,” she admitted. “Said he didn’t want to get caught in the middle.”

  “Too late,” he snapped, his anger rising.

  He heard her emit a tiny gasp as something occurred to her. “Sam, did you ever get your key back after Robbie cat-sat for you when you were on your book tour?”

  He thought about it, remembering his cousin had come in every day for a week. “No, he kept it in case of an emergency. I have one to his place, too.”

  Eve crossed her arms tightly over her chest, rubbing her hands up and down, as if she were cold. “Then it had to be him. He must have had two copies of the article.” Sounding bemused, she mumbled, “He wanted you to know. He pretended he didn’t, acted like he didn’t think I should tell you, but that’s what he really wanted me to do all along. He figured I’d have a wronged-woman reaction, that I’d melt down and demand that you defend me against your father.”

  “How did he know you didn’t?”

  “He must have been watching the apartment. When I hurried out of there with my bags packed, he went back inside using his key, saw that I hadn’t left the article behind, and planted it there for you to find.”

  “And took your note to make sure I was appropriately furious as I pieced it all together,” Sam said, the whole thing coming together in his brain like a movie scene.

  “Right.”

  That made sense, logistically. But he just couldn’t think of a reason behind it. He’d never had any problems with Robbie. Sure, there’d been some childhood jealousy, a few arguments. His cousin had once laughingly admitted he thought it was unfair that Sam was considered the golden child when Robbie, the one who always stayed right there by his father’s side, was overlooked.

  But would that be enough to set this whole thing up? To make sure Sam saw that article, but not the note?

  “Oh, my God, Sam…”

  “Yeah, I’m right there with you,” he admitted, concern churning inside him. “If he went this far, maybe he was the one behind the article in the first place.”

  “Exactly. Isn’t Robbie in line for that job your father wants you to take? And if you don’t take it, if you cut your father out of your life for good, doesn’t Robbie slide right in and take your place?”

  His heart pounding, he slowly nodded. It sounded crazy, and was incredibly manipulative. Not to mention risky. So many things could have gone wrong with the plan. “Did he really think I wouldn’t find out that you’d left a note, or that you hadn’t left the article?”

  “I suspect he was desperate,” she said, her brow crinkling as she thought it over. “He was sweating and stammering, so nervous he could barely speak. I’d bet this was a wild, last-minute scheme born out of desperation and he wasn’t considering all the things that could go wrong.”

  That sounded like Robbie, who’d never been great at long-range planning.

  Eve went on. “He was hoping if you got mad enough, you’d just cut your father off without ever speaking to him again. />
  He winced. That was essentially what had happened.

  “By the time anyone figured it all out, and you two got back together to compare notes, months could have gone by. Or years. Your father’s not a young man, Robbie might have thought you would never find out. Maybe he was even hoping to get some kind of inheritance your father would otherwise leave to you.”

  That, Sam knew, wasn’t far-fetched. Because Robbie had said something like that once. Robbie’s late father, Sam’s uncle, had been a gambler who’d gone through his half of the Kenneman fortune when Robbie was still a kid. His cousin had bemoaned that fact more than once.

  “He’s been playing dutiful nephew for a long time. When it looked like my father and I might reconcile, and I might take the job he wants…”

  “He sabotaged you.”

  Sam sighed deeply. “Even worse. It worked.”

  She reached out and put a hand on his arm, stroking him tenderly. “You couldn’t have known.”

  Thinking of the brief, angry conversation he’d had with his father, he mentally kicked himself again. “I should have given my dad the chance to explain.”

  “Yes, you should have, but you can’t be too hard on yourself. His track record was enough to make you believe the lies Robbie was telling. Your father’s trick with the magazines, his strong-arm tactics designed to make you do what he wanted, they all primed you to believe the worst.”

  Yes, they had, which made him incredibly sad.

  He and his father hadn’t been close for several years, but he should still have offered him the benefit of the doubt, even with all the other things that had happened.

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “Definitely,” she said with a nod.

  He glanced at the empty wine bottle, knowing he couldn’t make the drive back tonight. As much as he wanted to have the conversation in person, he knew he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.

  “I’ll be in the bedroom,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Take as long as you need.”