by Alexa Wilder
I finished my muffin and stood, taking our mugs and plates to the sink. Daniel and Sam stood as well. It was late, well past my usual bed time and I was tired. Daniel said goodnight to both of us and headed out of the kitchen, down the hall to the garage before taking a set of stairs to the lower level and his suite of rooms on the opposite side of the house from Sam’s wing.
When Sam had built the house, he’d planned for Daniel to stay in the main level of the house and use those rooms for guests, but Daniel had had other ideas. Claiming he and Sam both needed their space, he’d taken the guest rooms as his own.
Which essentially left me alone with Sam. I couldn’t tell you the last time I was uncomfortable around Sam, but with the way he was being weird and our arguments over Nolan, I felt a sense of unease, as if everything was off kilter. He stared at me in silence as if considering something. Or maybe I had muffin crumbs on my lip. I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth, but it came up clean. Sam’s eyes narrowed.
“Time for bed,” he said, reaching out to grab my hand once more. Still confused by his behavior, I let him. I wasn’t expecting him to lead me down the hall I knew went to his bedroom.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Bed,” he said shortly.
“But I thought the guest rooms were in the other wing.”
“They are. But there’s a pull-out in my office. I’m sleeping there. You’ll be in my bed.”
I stopped moving, forcing Sam to come to a halt or pull me over. “Sam, I’m not taking your bed. I’ll just stay upstairs.”
“No.” He tugged on my hand again, but I refused to move. “I don’t want you that far away,” he said. “We have no idea who’s after you or how far they’ll go to get to you. I sleep like a rock. If something happened, and you were upstairs I’d never hear you. If you’re in my room, they have to go right past me to get to you.”
“But we’re safe here. You have excellent security and the neighborhood is gated. Who could get to me?”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I’m not taking any chances with you, Chloe. You sleep in my room. I’m in the office. End of discussion.”
I opened my mouth to protest and Sam lunged forward, shoved his shoulder into my stomach, and picked me up in a fireman’s carry.
“Put me down,” I shouted. “I’m too heavy, you’ll hurt yourself.”
In answer, he swatted my rear end. “You’re not too heavy, for Christ’s sake. I could carry you all day. Now shut up.”
I didn’t shut up. Ignoring my protests, Sam strode down the hall to his bedroom door. When we were inside, the door shut firmly behind us, I said,
“What are you doing? When did you turn into such a caveman?”
“When did you stop doing what I told you to?” he shot back. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’ve never done what you told me to.”
“True,” he admitted. “But you’re usually much more agreeable about it.”
That was true. I’d never followed Sam’s orders, not exactly. But I was generally fairly diplomatic when I disagreed with him. Part of that was him being my boss. But mostly it was just me. I could argue when I had to, but I was happier when everyone just got along. Maybe that’s why I was so spun by everything that was happening. All this conflict was freaking me out.
Choosing not to fight with me anymore, Sam went to his dresser and came back with a dark grey t-shirt with ‘Delecta’ across the front in elaborate cursive. He handed it to me, saying,
“We’ll deal with the rest of your stuff tomorrow, but you can sleep in this tonight.”
I took the shirt and looked up at him. He’d stopped right in front of me, so close our shoes were almost touching, and stared down at me with a funny look in his eyes.
“What?” I asked, reaching up to touch my face again.
Why did he keep looking at me like that? In answer, he gave a shake of his head. Before I could step back, Sam reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight into his chest. I stiffened in surprise, then relaxed into him. The scent of spice and citrus surrounded me as I rested my head against Sam’s hard chest, soaking in his strength.
He drew back after a minute, his arms still holding me close. I tipped my head up to look at him and wasn’t surprised to see that odd look back in his eyes. He lifted one hand to my face and curved his fingers under my chin, tilting my face to his.
“Chloe,” he whispered. “I should have done this a long time ago.”
Then, to my complete and utter shock, Sam Logan dropped his lips to mine. The kiss started slowly, mostly because I couldn’t quite catch up. When his arm tightened around my back and his lips opened mine, I gasped at the heat of his tongue. I should have pulled away, but a kiss from Sam was every secret day dream I’d had since I’d first started working for him. I had no idea why he was kissing me, but this might be my only chance. Maybe Sam was just worried about me. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to let his kiss pass me by.
Pressing into him, I reached up and sank my fingers into his thick, soft hair, pulling his face into mine. I didn’t have a ton of experience with kissing, but it didn’t seem to matter. I moved my mouth against his, my tongue stroking his, our lips rubbing together, heat spiraling through my body.
Sam groaned deep in his chest and began to move, backing me into the wall without breaking the kiss. I kept my grip on his hair, loving the feeling of his head in my hands as his mouth fed from mine in kiss after drugging kiss. His hands were everywhere, stroking my back, my sides, untucking my blouse and sliding beneath to brand my bare skin with trails of heat. When his palm rose to graze the side of my breast, I whimpered.
Like a shot, he was gone, stepping back, dropping his hands and shoving them in the back pockets of his jeans.
“Sleep well,” he said as if he hadn’t just been holding me to the wall kissing the life out of me. “If you need anything, I’m right across the hall.”
With that, he left. I stood there, leaning against the wall for a long minute before going to the bathroom to change into his t-shirt. I got into his bed, surrounded by his scent and tried to fall asleep, my head spinning from his kiss. What had that been about?
I’d never had any idea Sam might want to kiss me. I’d dreamed about it, but I hadn’t imagined those dreams might ever come true. Not that they had, really. In my dreams he didn’t kiss me breathless and then abruptly leave. What had he been thinking? Maybe he just hadn’t been laid in a while, I was convenient, and then he thought better of it. But that wasn’t like Sam. And anyway, I wasn’t the kind of woman who stirred men to uncontrollable lust.
Had he kissed me as a distraction? So I’d stop thinking about Nolan? If he had, it hadn’t worked. Now I had two things to worry about. My head ping-ponged between unsolvable problems, and I tossed and turned for hours before I finally managed to drop off into a restless sleep.
5
Sam
What the fuck was that? I left Chloe alone in my room as calmly as I could, then strode across the hall to my office. Thank God I kept a decanter of whiskey in here even though I rarely opened it. Filling one of the crystal glasses with a good three fingers of liquor, I threw myself onto the leather couch and tossed the alcohol back, relishing the burn in my throat as I swallowed.
What the fuck had I been thinking? The idea was to seduce her. Slowly. Subtly. To make her see me as more than just her boss and her friend. If I could come to her rescue and be her knight in shining armor while we looked for her brother, that had to help my cause. Attacking her in my bedroom, shoving her against the wall, and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe was not part of the plan.
But fuck, that kiss. She’d frozen at first, holding back as I’d pulled her closer. Once she’d gotten into it, she’d been like fire in my arms. Making little whimpers in the back of her throat, burying her fingers in my hair and pulling my face to hers. She’d wanted me to kiss her. If I’d stopped there, it might have been o
kay.
Instead I’d had to back her into the wall and get my hands all over her. Chloe was just too much temptation. That soft body and even softer skin. Her heat, her mouth, it was all too much, and I lost my head. The feeling of my palm stroking the side of her breast was almost enough to make me come in my jeans.
How sad was I? Totally out of control from one kiss. I’d been imagining kissing Chloe for months. To finally be doing it, my hands on her bare skin, the weight of her breast teasing my palm. Just thinking about it was killing me.
I tossed back the rest of the whiskey and got up. Acting before I could think better of it, I locked the door to my office and crossed the room, unzipping my jeans as I went. My cock was a steel bar, had been since well before I’d laid a finger on Chloe. I wanted to strip naked, go back into my bedroom and slide between the covers with her. Peel off the t-shirt I’d given her to wear and feast on her body.
I’d start between her legs, kiss her pussy like I’d kissed her mouth. After I made her come, I’d move up and spend some time on her breasts. A week might be long enough. And after that, when I’d had my fill of her breasts, I’d fuck her. Right then I thought I could fuck Chloe forever.
In reality, if I was really in bed with her, I’d probably last about a minute, I was so turned on. But that reality wasn’t going to happen. At least not tonight. I couldn’t afford to be distracted for long, so I stepped into the three quarter bath attached to my office and turned the shower on cold. Maybe between the icy water and my hand on my cock I could get my head back in the game.
With the sound of Chloe’s whimpers in my ears and the memory of her breast in my hand, I gripped my cock and began to stroke, the slick soap against my skin giving me just the right friction. Not as good as her pussy would be, but it was enough for now. Pressing my forehead to the cool tile of the shower, I pictured Chloe’s dazed eyes after our kiss, her ragged breathing, and the way her round, full breasts had looked the day we’d been caught in the rain.
The images swirled together into a dream Chloe, half naked, wet from the shower and eager for me. My eyes squeezed shut, I saw her as she dropped to her knees and took my cock in her mouth, soothing my need with hard, quick sucks. I wasn’t sure if the real Chloe had ever had a dick in her mouth, but my dream Chloe sucked me like she wasn’t afraid of my size. She took me deep and swallowed, letting the head of my cock into her throat. At the thought of how she’d look on her knees, her hungry eyes meeting mine, I came, my knees going weak as my orgasm painted the wall and was washed away.
I’d been stroking my cock to images of Chloe for months. But never after I’d just had her in my arms. If I didn’t fuck this up, maybe the next time I’d get the real thing. I finished my shower, pulled my boxers back on, and unlocked my door, leaving it open so I could hear if Chloe needed anything.
Then I pulled out the sofa bed and put on the sheets. When I was finally ready for sleep I did two last things. First, I called Axel and filled him in. He promised to get to work on finding Nolan immediately.
After I hung up, I left a message for Lola, my personal shopper. Like a lot of guys with busy jobs, I had a need for a professional wardrobe and no desire to shop. At the suggestion of my friend Dylan, I’d tried outsourcing my shopping to Lola at Neiman Marcus. She was a miracle. And she’d recently outfitted Dylan’s girlfriend with a whole new wardrobe.
Like Chloe, Dylan’s girl had curves. And Lola had known exactly how to dress them up. Chloe needed her. I didn’t care about the cost; I wanted Chloe to have whatever she needed. This was step two in my courtship.
I planned to use the excuse that she didn’t have anything at my house to wear. I left Lola a detailed description of Chloe, including her sizes, which I’d taken from the tag on her suit jacket and the shoes she’d abandoned in the kitchen. Sometime tomorrow I’d get a real start on my pursuit of Chloe. And maybe she’d forget all about tonight’s fuck-up. I could only hope.
6
Chloe
When I finally fell asleep, I tossed and turned, haunted by vague dreams in which Nolan came home, beaten and scared, and then Sam showed up to take me away before I could find out what was wrong. I didn’t really pass out until just before dawn, then didn’t wake up for hours. Usually I was up with the sun whether I wanted to be or not. Normally, my body sensed day break and switched itself on, even if I’d just gotten to bed.
Sam’s room had heavy curtains along the wide, tall window. Very heavy curtains. They must have tricked my brain into thinking it was still night, because I slept until eleven. Sleep fell away slowly, and I rolled over in bed trying to get my bearings for a few minutes before I noticed the time. Realizing it was almost lunch, I bolted out of the bed and into the bathroom.
The heat of the shower soaked into me, calming me down as I rummaged through Sam’s shower for what I’d need. I’d found an unopened razor blade in a drawer, along with an unopened toothbrush. But I’d have to make do with his shampoo and other bath stuff. Squirting the shampoo into my palm I realized I had the source of the citrus side of Sam’s scent. Looking closer at the bottle I saw it was a combination shampoo/conditioner/body wash. I smiled and shook my head as I massaged in the lather.
Sam was rolling in money and he couldn’t be bothered to buy a separate shampoo and body wash. He’d grown his company into a huge success over the past ten years. By the time I’d joined Desert Vistas, they were already handling large scale developments in both Nevada and California. But Sam was still the same down-to-earth guy he’d always been.
Daniel had told me once that it didn’t seem to matter if he was in a tract home or his ten million dollar architectural marvel, a tux or his jeans. He was still Sam. He might have been able to afford the most expensive soap on earth, but he still bought the normal stuff everyone else got at the grocery store.
I dried off and tried not to enjoy smelling like Sam. I hoped he’d be back to normal today. We had a lot of things to do. Meeting with Axel, probably. We had to go back to my place to see if anything had been destroyed. And I wanted to look for the number of one of Nolan’s work friends to see if he knew anything. At some point we’d have to go in to the office. He had contracts to review and I didn’t even want to think about his inbox. Or mine.
Teeth brushed and hair combed, I looked around for my suit and blouse only to find them missing. I’d taken everything off the night before and laid them over the arm chair across from the bed. Now it was empty. Not sure what to do, I looked through Sam’s huge closet and found a robe hanging on the back of the door. It was huge, dragging on the floor behind my heels, but at least it covered me.
Resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to find anything better, I tied it tight and went looking for Sam. His office door hung open, the pull-out still unfolded, the sheets half pulled up, as if he’d thought about making the bed and then changed his mind. I found him sitting on a stool at the bar in the kitchen, working on his laptop and sipping a cup of coffee. Seeing me hovering at the end of the hallway, he smiled.
“Finally awake?” he asked. “I thought you never slept in.”
“I don’t,” I said, tucking my wet hair behind my ear. Without my hair pins, which had disappeared along with my suit, my hair was springing into curls and waves as it dried. I liked to keep it contained, thinking it more professional, but little strands were always falling out, no matter what I did.
“Are you hungry? Marte made you breakfast. It’s in the warming oven. I ate a while ago.”
He was smirking at me for sleeping in, but I ignored him. It seemed like he was back to normal. Good. As wonderful as that kiss had been, I couldn’t afford for it to happen again. He was my boss, and I didn’t want to leave my job. I found a plate of french toast stuffed with cream cheese and a bowl of sliced fruit. Yum.
I shouldn’t eat it, but I was going to anyway. I’d been dieting lately - it felt like I was always dieting - but I was a stress eater, and with Nolan missing it didn’t seem like that big a deal to eat the Fren
ch toast. I was making myself a cup of coffee when I asked,
“Did she take my clothes to wash? I can’t find my suit. Or my hairpins.”
“No. I threw them out.”
“What?” I almost spilled the full coffee cup in my hand when I whirled to face him. Sam was still studying his laptop screen and hadn’t bothered to look up.
“What do you mean you threw out my clothes? You can’t throw away my clothes. I need them.”
“No you don’t. Pick something off the table in the dining room.”
I put my mug down on the kitchen counter and stormed past the bar and into the dining room. Like the model home I’d been hiding in the night before, Sam’s house was an open plan on the main level. The great room, with its panoramic views of the Las Vegas strip, flowed into the kitchen on one side and the dining room on the other. I strode through, without admiring the view of desert and city, to find the long table completely covered in clothes. One end was stacked with shoe boxes and a chair was pulled out and covered in scarves and purses.
“WHAT IS THIS?!” I screeched. I’m not usually a screecher. Really. Not even a yeller. The stress of the past few days had me a little more emotional than usual, but I’m generally a pretty calm, level headed woman. This was just too much. I didn’t even know what it meant. “Where did all of this come from?”
“I asked Lola to drop it by. It’s for you,” Sam said from right behind me. I jumped, glad I’d left my coffee in the kitchen or I would have spilled it all over me. He could move quietly when he wanted to.
“Why, Sam? I have clothes.”
“Now you have new ones. Pick something to wear and I’ll explain.”
I surveyed the table, realizing on closer inspection that the clothes had been laid out as outfits, with accessories and shoes nearby. It was a dizzying array. I knew who Lola was, had even met her a few times when I needed to pick up a suit for Sam. She was elegant, with impeccable taste. I could see her hand in the wardrobe laid out on the table.