by Sarah Hegger
“You’re right.” He nipped her earlobe. “I’ll give myself wood if I keep going this way.”
“Sam!” And this time she sounded like she was begging him for more. Which she totally was.
Mathew pressed into Sam’s side. “Can I walk with you, Sam?”
“Dude.” Sam ruffled his hair. “I’d be gutted if you didn’t.” He jerked his thumb at Guy. “Because the big guy back there gets tired quickly.” Sam winked at Mathew. “He sits in the goal all the time. Doing nothing.”
“Don’t make me squash you like a bug,” Guy said.
Mathew giggled and breathed. “Best day ever.”
After a bit of speechifying, with Sam fidgeting worse than Mathew throughout, they set off. The crowd around Guy and Sam ebbed and flowed as people found an excuse to say hi and grab a quick selfie.
Throughout the walk, Sam kept a firm grip on her hand, not letting fans or haters nudge her out of the way.
Mathew grew tired about two kilometers in and Guy hoisted him on his shoulders.
Maddy chatted to Guy the entire time, about her studying—which was going well—about her family—which totally didn’t deserve her—and about Chris—who she was head over heels about.
Elizabeth didn’t mind the people or how they monopolized Sam. This was why she’d made him do this. His presence brought more people out to walk, meaning more money raised, and the selfies and videos of him walking were social media gold.
Also, Sam kept a watch on her the entire time and wrapped her in a sense of togetherness.
By the end of the walk, the weather had turned overcast and the temperature dropped. A cold wind coming straight off the Ottawa river discouraged any lingering, and after making sure Mathew was back with his family, she, Sam and Guy piled into her car.
Chris waited for Maddy. Now off duty, she grabbed Maddy and kissed her as if they’d been separated for days.
Sitting in her car and watching them, Elizabeth was so happy for Chris. She would never have pictured her with someone like Maddy, but there they were. Making their way through the parked cars with their hands entwined and their heads close together.
“Damn, Lizzie.” Sam shivered. “Turn the car on and let’s get some heat in here.”
“Wuss,” she said, but she could do with the heat as well.
People were still milling about on their way to their cars, and it took a while to weave their way to clear roads again.
Elizabeth glanced at Guy and then Sam. “Thank you for doing that.”
“Lizzie.” Sam cupped her nape. “We had a deal. All I did was stick to the deal.”
Like she believed that was all there was to it. “Sure. But thank you anyway.”
“You’re welcome, Elizabeth.” Guy squeezed her shoulder.
“Hey!” Sam glared at his hand. “What did we say about touching Lizzie?”
“Do it as much as I can?” Guy chuckled.
Sam rubbed his hands and held them over the heater vent. “Why don’t you drop Guy off first?”
He must have forgotten the ins and outs of driving around there. “But your mom’s place is halfway between here and Guy’s hotel.”
Sam gave her a hard stare.
Clearly, she was missing something vital here.
In the backseat, Guy cracked up. His loud laughter almost hurt her ears. “What?”
“Sam wants you to drop me off first so he can be alone with you in the car.” Guy chuckled.
Now she felt all kinds of stupid. “Oh.”
“Yup.” Guy stretched his huge arms over the top of the backseat. “Stage one is to get rid of all obstacles.” He pointed at himself. “That would be me. Step two is to make his move. Maybe invite you in for hot chocolate or tomato soup and grilled cheese.”
Elizabeth’s face was ready to explode.
Guy kept on chuckling and Sam turned to scowl at him. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Me?” Guy widened his eyes, an innocent man condemned for no reason. “I’m helping you along here, Stoner. Making sure Elizabeth gets where you’re headed, because your game is pitiful, my friend, pitiful.”
“Like you’ve got game.” Sam scoffed at his friend.
Guy sighed. “Sadly, you’re right. I have even less game than you.”
Elizabeth found that hard to believe, about both of them. They had to be knee deep in puck bunnies and wannabe Mrs. Professional Hockey Players. “You’re both bugging me.”
She took the road to Guy’s hotel anyway. What the hell! It was only ten minutes out of the way, and she preferred this road.
Her conscience smirked at her and raised its eyebrows.
Guy unfolded himself from her car with a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for everything today, Elizabeth. I hope to see you again, soon.” Then he chuckled. “Not as much as Sam hopes to see a lot more of you, but anyway.”
The cool air from outside did nothing to cool her cheeks and she sat a moment as Guy sauntered into the hotel lobby and disappeared.
Sam turned in his seat. “Come home with me, Lizzie. And not for hot chocolate or soup.”
Chapter 24
Now that she’d agreed to go home with Sam, the marbles clattered into her tummy. The sexual tension between them was undeniable and the best way to deal with it was to scratch that itch.
Right?
Right! Of course it was. She and Sam would do the nasty and then they’d both know and they could move on with their lives. As friends this time, and drop all the childish animosity.
She parked and got out of the car.
Sam looked at her as if he might say something. Then he turned and walked to the front door.
Standing in Danica’s entrance hall, where she’d been so many times before, Elizabeth didn’t know whether to leap or wait to be leaped on.
Instead Sam hung his hat and hoodie on the pegs and sauntered into the kitchen. “I know I said no hot chocolate but it’s cold as balls out there. Want one?”
“S-sure.” It took Elizabeth three tries to get out of her coat. The damn thing kept tangling on her arms and fingers. She hung it on a hook, missed, and bent and picked it up again.
She was losing it. She took a deep breath and then another and another. This was Sam and nothing would happen that she didn’t want to happen.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Sam walked down the hallway to the bedrooms. He flipped open a door. “Clean towels and stuff in there.”
Okay, this was happening. Sex was happening and she might ruin it all by puking on the floor. First you had a shower, so you were nice and clean and then—
“I’ll get you something warm to wear.” Sam smirked over his shoulder as if he could read her thoughts.
Leaving her shoes by the door, Elizabeth tiptoed into the bathroom he’d indicated.
Sam appeared in the door with clothes in his hands. He put them on the closed toilet seat. “Here.”
Elizabeth went for nonchalant “Yeah! Thanks.”
Then she stood there and looked at him.
He grinned. “You need to turn the shower on.”
“I know that.” Heat flooded her cheeks. “But I’m waiting for you to leave.”
Sam grinned. “Right.”
The hot water relaxed her a bit and she slipped on the track pants and sweatshirt Sam had left her. Along with a large pair of socks, the clothes looked like they might belong to Danica.
In the kitchen, Sam already had a pot on the stove. Damp hair clung to his head and his long-sleeve Henley found to all the fascinating dips and swells of his torso. He also had a pair of track pants on that framed his ass in a way that brought all her nerves rushing back.
She knew what the score was when she’d agreed to come home with him. Not that she was afraid Sam wouldn’t respect her wishes, even if she changed her mind.
It wasn’t that. The whole idea of Sam wanting to have sex with her stretched incredulity too far. He was gorgeous, famous and a sports star. He could, and frequently did according to th
e tabloids, have any woman he could.
Standing there like a tween wouldn’t work either, so she walked closer to Sam.
“I hope you’re making your mother’s hot chocolate.” She peered into the pot.
Sam nodded. “With a few improvements.” He flourished a wine bottle. “A touch of red wine and a dash of brandy.”
Her laughter sounded forced, because it was.
Still stirring with a wooden spoon, Sam looked at her. “You’re nervous.”
“Nah.” She tried for a dismissive wave and knocked a pot of cooking utensils over. They clattered, clunked and rattled over the granite island and to the floor. She dared to look at Sam. “What gave me away?”
“I’m perceptive.” He grinned. His expression grew more serious. “Listen. Let’s have our hot cholocate. Watch a little TV and not throw shit around the kitchen.”
That sounded like a good idea to her. Elizabeth gathered up fallen utensils. “Isn’t there hockey on?”
“Yup.” Sam fetched two mugs from the cupboard behind him. The look he gave her was ridiculously hopeful. “We don’t have to watch hockey if you don’t want to.”
“I want to watch hockey.” Elizabeth picked the remote up from the couch and flipped on the TV. Surprise, surprise, it was already set to the hockey channel.
Sam put the mugs on the table. “Want me to start a fire?”
“Yes, please.” Elizabeth took a seat and tucked her feet under her.
Sam got the fire going and came to sit next to her. He picked up his mug and stretched his legs out in front of him.
On the television, players whirled about on skates, but Elizabeth couldn’t tell what was happening in the game. Her awareness was focused on the hockey player next to her who smelled of soap and shampoo.
Sam grunted. “Shit! Where’s the defense?”
The humor struck her suddenly. Here she was getting her panties in a wad about something that showed no signs of happening. And Sam was watching hockey.
Not pretending to watch hockey, mind, but actually focusing one hundred percent on the game.
Not wanting to be that person, she checked out the score on the top left of the screen to see who was playing.
Sam grabbed her feet and put them on his lap. His huge hands almost entirely covered her feet as he held them lightly by the instep.
With the game only being halfway through the second period, and Sam totally focused, it seemed stupid to sit there and stress. Don’t get between a Canadian hockey fan and their game. Dad had taught her that much. Elizabeth grabbed her mug and drank her hot chocolate.
Rich chocolate with a slight bitter undertaste cutting the sweet flooded her mouth. “This is so good.”
“Told you.” Sam glanced at her and went back to the game. “Fuck!” He tossed his hand up. “What the fuck is Hansom thinking? Pass!”
She wriggled her toes in his grip.
His dug his thumbs into her instep, not too hard and not too soft.
Elizabeth hummed her appreciation and got more comfortable on her back with her head propped against the arm of the sofa.
“Want to tell me what’s got you jumpy?” Sam kept his attention on the TV.
That and the foot massage made it easier to talk. “A couple of things.”
Sam laughed and glanced at her. “Why am I not surprised?” He went back to his game and groaned as someone missed the net. “You don’t think you might be overthinking this?”
“It’s what I do.” She folded her hands on her belly. “It’s part of why we fought as kids. I overthink and you don’t think enough.”
“Hmm.” He worked his strong fingers over her feet. “You may have something there. So, a couple of things?”
“First off, I’m not sure what happens after…” Embarrassment won and she couldn’t finish that sentence.
Sam gave her a lascivious smile. “You mean after I rock your world and spoil you for other men?”
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes and made sure he saw.
Sam stopped massaging and turned to look at her. “I really can’t answer that at this point, Lizzie. I can only tell you I’m crazy about you and now that I’ve admitted that, I’m exercising a fuck ton of self-control to sit over here while you’re over there.”
“In a purely physical way?”
Sam gave her a hard stare. “You know better than that. If this was some random itch, I’d go and scratch it somewhere else. But this itch is all for you, Lizzie.”
“How flattering.” She giggled.
Sam shifted to his knees and crawled up the couch until he bracketed her. He lowered his head and kissed her cheek. “Is this okay?”
“Sam.” Now he was being silly.
“How about this?” He trailed his lips to her jaw and kissed beneath the hinge. Moving down to her neck, he whispered, “And this?”
Her thoughts scattered and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his broad, muscular torso.
Shifting his weight until he half covered her, Sam discovered her earlobe and sucked it into his warm mouth.
A soft moan got away from Elizabeth. His mouth, both gentle and firm, heated every place it touched, and the warmth radiated outwards.
Her nipples stiffened and pushed against the sweatshirt.
“That’s better.” Sam slid his hand under the sweatshirt and covered her ribs with one hand. His mouth lingered over hers. “Shall I kiss you, Lizzie?”
“Yes, please.” She speared her fingers through his silky, dark hair and tugged his mouth down to hers. The delicious weight and heat of him made her shift against him, seeking greater contact.
With a groan, Sam sunk into the kiss. His tongue sought entry into her mouth and demanded her response. He kissed her with the same intensity he chased down a puck.
One of his thighs slid between hers, pressing that rock-hard muscle at the junction of her legs. Having danced on the edge of arousal and need for days now, Elizabeth ignited at the touch. She pushed harder against him.
“Damn, Lizzie.” Sam broke the kiss. “You’re wearing far too many clothes.”
He gripped the bottom of her sweatshirt, and doubt crept into Elizabeth’s sensual haze.
“Wait.” She gripped his hands.
Sam stilled and stared at her. “What? You don’t want this?”
“No. I mean, yes I do. But I’m me, Sam.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I know exactly who I’m trying to get naked with.”
“I mean—” And she took a deep breath. “I’m not any kind of model or actress. I’m a normal girl, and I have lumps and things.” Her face was nearly radioactive by the time she’d gotten that out.
Amusement danced in Sam’s bright blue eyes. “Lumps and things?”
“Are you laughing at me?” She’d kick his butt if he was.
“Lizzie.” He chuckled. The pig. “I’m going out of my mind here because I want to see those lumps and things. And then I want to touch them.” He tugged at her sweatshirt. “And after that, I’m going to get my mouth on them. Maybe I’ll vary that order, but you get the idea.”
“Sam.” She gripped his hands tighter. “I’m serious. Under my clothes, I don’t look like those girls you normally have sex with.” She hated saying it aloud, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have a bit of muffin top, and my thighs touch.”
Sam stared at her for a long moment, then he sat on his knees beside her and pulled her up to a sitting position.
“First.” He raised his forefinger. “Those supermodels and actresses you’re talking about. Not as many of them as you seem to think. Secondly.” He added another finger to the first. “They also have lumps and things. Nobody’s perfect, Lizzie. But thirdly, and most importantly, you’re the sexiest woman I know, and I want every bit of you.”
“I’ve seen you.” They way he looked when he called her the sexiest woman he’d ever met made her want to wriggle closer to him and make him show her. “You’re perfect.”
“Really?” Sam hauled his s
weatshirt off.
Elizabeth lost the power of speech. Real men weren’t supposed to look like that.
Sam pointed low down on his belly. “Here! Appendix scar.”
“That’s nothing.” Elizabeth sneered. Compared to the rest of what he had going on, who even noticed.
“Okay.” He half turned and showed her a five-inch scar above his waist. “Clumsy kid got me with his skates.”
Elizabeth traced the scar with her fingers. “Did it hurt?”
“Like hell.” Sam caught her hand and kissed her fingertips. “I showed you mine.”
Enough of her nervousness dissipated for Elizabeth to pull off her sweatshirt. She sucked in her breath then stopped herself and pointed. “Muffin top.”
“Damn, Lizzie.” Sam’s gaze scorched as he studied her breasts and drifted lower to her stomach. He spanned her waist. “You’re even better than I imagined.” He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. “And I have a hell of an imagination.”
His mouth covered hers in a kiss hotter than the last one.
Slowly he slid his big rough hands up her ribcage and cupped her breasts. “Anything you want to tell me about these?”
Elizabeth’s breath came in puffs between kisses. “They’re real.”
“Thank you, Jesus.” He slid her bra cups down and rolled her nipples between his fingers.
Dear God, he did that so well, and Elizabeth moaned. “They’re under the influence of gravity.”
“Let’s see.” Sam unhooked her bra with one hand and peeled it from her shoulders. Drawing back, he watched his hands on her breasts. “I’m a massive gravity fan. You’re beautiful.”
With him looking at her like that, she felt it too. “My thighs are too heavy.”
“My shins look like they’ve been through the plague.” Sam ducked his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
His hot mouth sent a bolt of lust right to Elizabeth’s core and she gripped his head and kept him there. “Sam!” she cried. “That feels so good.”
Groaning, he moved to her other breast. He gripped the waistband of her sweatpants and tugged them down.
Elizabeth wriggled to help.
“Your heavy thighs make me crazy.” Sam slid his hand between her thighs and cupped her sex through her panties. “Are you wet for me, Lizzie?”