“Yes,” Kate gasped.
His finger barely pushed inside her tight ass. “Like this?”
“Like that,” Kate agreed breathlessly. A few seconds later, she demanded, “More, I want more.”
“More,” Sam groaned as he gently pushed another finger inside. He didn’t go deep but instead stretched the delicate muscle.
Being completely filled with Sam, Kate’s climax was swift and intense. She tried to ride him through the waves but was so overly sensitized she could barely move. Sam swiftly rolled her to her back and thrust furiously until he found his release. He stayed inside her for moment before pulling out and rolling over to his side.
“Good Lord, woman, you’re insatiable,” he teased.
Kate smiled coyly as her fingers traced a line against his chest. When her fingers reached his waist, Sam grabbed her hand and said, “No.”
“Why not?” Kate pouted. “I want more,” she said and tried to reach for him with her other hand.
“No,” he said more firmly, grabbed her other hand, and scooted his hips out of reach. “I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but you’re starting to worry me a little bit.”
“You wanted to fuck me for six months. Now you can—any way you want,” Kate simpered.
“Wow, that is very generous of you,” Sam said, looking cross. “First, you let me make love to you in the shower with the lights on without so much as a flinch, and now I don’t think a jackhammer to your pussy would be enough to satisfy you. I think that fucker may have slipped something in your drink.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Kate protested.
“I’m serious, Kate,” Sam said quietly and stroked her cheek. “I’m loving the new, horny Kate, but this isn’t you. You’re not acting like yourself, and I don’t think one Xanax is strong enough to alter your personality.”
“Oh,” Kate said blankly and then started to giggle. “Well, it could be because I took four of them.”
“What!” Sam yelled as he sat up.
“Or five, I lost track,” Kate admitted with a silly grin.
Chapter 13
The layers of sleep slowly unfolded like the sweetest rose. Cocooned in a cloud wrapped in satin, Kate couldn’t think of a better way to wake up. If it wasn’t for her throbbing head, the morning would be perfect. Her vagina wasn’t exactly feeling in tip-top form either, but other than her head and crotch, everything else felt wonderful. Still half-asleep, Kate rolled over to Sam’s side of the bed to snuggle against his warm body, but discovered it empty. That was strange as she always woke up before him. Her eyes opened with the tiniest slits as her brain mentally prepared to face the light. It took her a few moments, but eventually she found him. He was sitting beside the bed, leaning forward with his face in his hands and his elbows rested on his knees.
“How do you feel?”
His question sounded simple enough, but something in his tone sent a chill of apprehension down her spine. “Fine,” she mumbled through a yawn. “Why are you already out of bed?”
“I haven’t gone to bed yet,” he answered coldly. “I spent the night watching you sleep.”
“That’s flattering, yet slightly creepy,” Kate muttered as she stretched.
Sam sat up. The impatient tick in his cheek gave him away. Kate knew something was wrong, very wrong. Her brain flashed through the events of the last night. Okay, maybe it hadn’t started out on the best note, but she thought they worked everything out. Apparently not. He was furious. Was it something she said? Something she did?
“You don’t even fucking remember, do you?” Sam growled. “Let me give you a recap. After your confession, I called Dr. Markson at two-thirty in the goddamn morning. He said, given the dosage it would probably be safe to let you sleep it off as long as you didn’t have any preexisting conditions, which by the way, he wouldn’t know because you didn’t reschedule your appointment—you fucking cancelled it.”
“Sam, please,” Kate groaned as she pulled the blankets over her head. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet. Whatever happened to doctor/patient confidentially? I thought there were laws preventing him from talking about it? Can’t we discuss this later?”
Sam yanked the blankets back. “Do I look like I want to talk about it later? Dr. Markson is the most esteemed cardiologist in the state of Texas, and he happened to be one of my father’s old gulf buddies.”
“It was a one-off, a stupid accident,” Kate pleaded.
“It was stupid accident that killed my mother, or did you forget that, Kate?” Sam yelled.
“Last night, I was really nervous…” Kate started to explain.
“I don’t give a fuck how you felt last night,” Sam interrupted. “What you did was grossly irresponsible. Had you not vomited, I would have had to take you to hospital to have your stomach pumped. You could have killed yourself. So, sorry I can’t be the understanding boyfriend and consider your feelings,” he spat sarcastically.
She felt both confused and ashamed. At the time, she hadn’t been trying to harm herself. Just the opposite in fact; it had been horrible week. Without a doubt, it had been the worst week of her life. She was only trying to feel better, but one pill hadn’t been enough. On the prescription bottle, it plainly read, ‘Take as needed,’ and she needed more than one. It wasn’t as if she gobbled down all four at the same time. She had spread them out over a few hours, but Sam wouldn’t let her explain. He just kept looking at her like she had done it as some sort of backwards, contrived attack against him. She could only meekly reply, “It won’t happen again.”
“I know it won’t happen again because I flushed the rest of the pills down the toilet,” he answered.
“You what?” Kate groaned and started to sit up but quickly fell back on the pillows. “Sam, you don’t understand. I need that medicine. What happens when I have another panic attack?”
“No, you don’t understand…” Sam started with a lethal, cool calm, “…while I spent the night watching over you to be certain you didn’t stop breathing, I realized I can’t do this. I can’t sit by helplessly and watch you die.” He suddenly stood and started towards the bedroom door. Before he left, he turned back around and explained, “I’m leaving now. Once I’m gone, I need you to decide; it’s either me or those pills. It’s your choice. If you chose the pills, I will never contact you again. When I come home, if you’re gone, I’ll know what you decided.”
“Sam, don’t leave,” Kate cried.
Closing the door behind him, Sam ignored Kate, leaving her alone and miserable. She spent the better part of the morning crying in bed but decided she was being ridiculous so she got of bed and took a shower. The decision? Yeah right, as if she had a choice, of course she would choose Sam. Did he really believe she would pick anything over him? He was her everything. This past week was just a shining example of how she functioned without him. She didn’t. She started talking to the television, angry when the actors didn’t reciprocate the conversation. In the whole span of her life, he had been in it such a short time, but he had played the best part. He was the lead male role in the comedic drama entitled Kate. She couldn’t very well ax him out of the show without ending the series.
But what would she do when she had her next panic attack? Grin and bear it? Or hopefully, Sam would relent by then? Surely he wouldn’t expect her to suffer through it. Kate was determined to win back his trust, to prove she was responsible, and that she didn’t have a drug problem. The whole notion was absurd. Anyone who knew her knew she was the very last person who would be addicted to anything. For goodness sake, she had never even smoked a cigarette. Last night, well, last night she had been both incredibly stupid and irresponsible, but everyone was allowed to make a few mistakes every now and then. And it was just that—a mistake. Once Sam realized that, everything would be fine, and just to make him feel better, Kate decided to reschedule her appointment with Dr. Markson. She was certain nothing would come of it, but maybe the good doctor might be able to convince
Sam she wasn’t a pill popper. But if Sam thought she would be the only one making a few concessions, he had another coming.
He came home a little before noon with a bag of bagels, cream cheese, and a cup of coffee. He sat down on high stool beside the counter that separated the kitchen from the sitting room, and didn’t offer to share either.
“So?” he questioned as he took out the cinnamon-crunch delicacy from the paper bag.
Kate looked down, disgruntled at her runny eggs and burnt toast. “I’m here,” she grumbled. “Are you going to share?”
“Sorry, I didn’t know if you would still be here when I came home, so I only bought enough for one.”
“And on the off chance that I might actually chose you over the medication prescribed by a licensed medical doctor, you didn’t buy a few extra?” Kate retorted sarcastically.
“I was being frugal.”
“Right,” Kate clicked, “because you only have millions stashed away in your bank accounts—why waste a few dollars.”
“Exactly,” Sam agreed with a smile.
As he was looking through the paper bag for a creamer, Kate reached over and switched their plates.
“Hey,” Sam grumbled, “I don’t want your nasty eggs.”
“But I made them especially for you,” Kate pouted.
“No, you didn’t. You made them because you didn’t know about the bagel option,” Sam said and pushed the plate to the side to reach for another bagel. “I would have offered to share, but I didn’t want to ruin your sour mood.”
“Nothing like being woken up with an invention to brighten your day,” Kate answered before she snatched his coffee.
“Sounds almost as fabulous as spending the night watching over your girlfriend to be sure she doesn’t die in your bed,” Sam retorted.
“If we keep this up, we can start our own reality TV show,” Kate teased.
“Kate and Sam—What a Drag,” Sam offered as a title.
“I love it,” Kate answered, then took a sip of the coffee and handed it back to him. “We could even do a holiday special.”
“I do have the sexiest Mrs. Claus outfit I haven’t pulled out of the closet in a few years.”
“Could I wear it?”
“Hell no,” Sam teased. “You could be an elf. All you’d need is a pair of green tights and some pointy shoes.”
“I don’t want to be an elf,” Kate protested as she sat down on the opposite side of the counter.
“Why not?” Sam asked. “You’d make an adorable elf, and the ratings would soar.”
“No, the ratings will soar after the episode when I bring you home to meet my family.”
“Don’t forget our friends. They’ll make for intriguing side dishes.”
Kate grimaced at the thought. Not because of her friends—his, which reminded her of something important she wanted to discuss. Maybe it wasn’t the best time, but was there ever a really good time to say, ‘I detest the evil bitch you’re so fond of,’ probably not.
“While you were off on your three and half hour bagel run, I started thinking about some things,” Kate started, sounding very serious.
“I imagine you did.”
“And I realized that I hate Hannah,” Kate confessed.
Sam narrowed his eyes ponderously before slightly nodding his head. “I get that.”
Kate took a deep breath before continuing, “And I realize that you may not be aware of all the consequences of what you are asking me to do.”
“If by consequences you are referring to you not dying of an accidental overdose, I thought it through last night.”
“I wasn’t,” Kate said drily. “I know you don’t believe this, but I do happen to need those pills.”
All traces of their earlier levity washed clean from his face. She could see the gathering storm in his smoky eyes. His relaxed posture tensed as if he was getting to strike.
“But…” Kate said sharply to avoid the coming strike, “…I am willing to give them up if that is what you need, but I don’t think it is fair that I’m the only one who has to make concessions. You know how I feel about Hannah, and you know why. I don’t want her to be a part of our life together.”
Sam stared blankly for a second before he softly shook his head in denial. “Kate, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” he answered quietly.
“Can’t or won’t?” Kate demanded.
Sam stood suddenly. He gathered the paper bag and started wiping down the counter. “You don’t understand. What if I asked you to write-off Jenner?”
“There is slight difference. Jenner isn’t a psychotic bitch,” Kate hissed.
“I thought…” Sam started and slammed his lips shut. He paced about the kitchen for a few moments before he turned back towards her. “…Hannah is sick,” he said.
“Sick how? Sick as in dying?” Kate questioned, hoping she didn’t sound too hopeful.
“No, not that kind of sick,” Sam said as he walked over and leaned down beside her. “Think about the worst possible sort of childhood you could imagine and multiply that by a thousand. That was how Hannah was raised. She was abused and exploited in every way possible. I know you won’t believe me, but a long time ago Hannah used to be a very sweet, loving, generous, very tenderhearted soul until those monsters destroyed her.”
“You’re right,” Kate agreed. “I am having a hard time picturing her that way. If that happened to her, it’s horrible. I would be the first person to say so, but haven’t you done enough for her? Why do you have to stay and be dragged down in her ugliness?”
“I’m all she has left.”
“So, I was right. She is in love with you,” Kate stated despondently.
“No,” Sam chuckled and pushed away from the counter. “Hannah is incapable of loving anyone but Hannah and even that is questionable. Obviously, I’m not a mental health professional, but in my opinion, Hannah is a sociopath.”
“A sociopath?” Kate shrieked. “It isn’t safe for you to be around her.”
“She never does any physical damage,” Sam denied. “It is a mental game. Besides, I’m probably the only one that is truly safe from her. A true sociopath never strikes against those closest to them. It’s a defense mechanism, I suppose. I honestly thought she was better. I never would have brought her around if I had known she was still playing the game.”
“Better,” Kate scoffed. “Where have you been the last six months? She insults me every time we’re together. There hasn’t been a single time when she hasn’t made some snide remark about my weight.”
“Hannah wasn’t insulting you,” Sam denied with a slight smile. “She’s always been attracted to curvaceous women.”
“Is she a lesbian?”
“I don’t know,” he answered ambiguously. “I never asked.”
“But you must know,” Kate said. “I know you made love with her. Well, not with her, with her, but with her,” she explained as she waved her hands in a wide circle.
Sam looked perplexed. Mocking her hand movement, he asked, “What does this mean?”
Kate growled in frustration. “I heard you talking in the studio. I know you had at least one threesome with her.”
“I have not,” Sam stated firmly.
“There’s no point in lying about it now. I already know the truth,” Kate grumbled.
Sam sat back down beside the counter. Kate, close by, watched the emotions etch onto his face. First, he appeared mildly uncomfortable, followed swiftly by a grimace of pain like when a doctor says you’ll only feel a little pressure. The little pressure is accompanied with a big shot of ouch. Whatever he was about to admit, Kate knew for certain she would not enjoy hearing it. Her brain shouted for her to brace herself so she tightly gripped the granite countertop in front of her.
Sam covered his face with his hand before he groaned, “Hannah liked to watch. She never participated.”
“I…” Kate started to mutter, “I don’t understand.” Like to watch what—Sam having sex with othe
r women? Why? What sort of crazy weirdness was that? In Kate’s mind, it went a step beyond sexually adventurous towards something more taboo. After she fully processed what he was trying to say, Kate answered with a scowl, “I have been a very tolerant girlfriend. I have never once voiced a single complaint about you going around in bras and heels, but if you have any more fetishes lurking in your closet, I want to know now.”
“I told you, I wasn’t always so discriminating,” Sam gritted through his teeth.
“Indiscriminate to me is a few one-night stands, a couple of hook-ups, and maybe after a night of heavy drinking and one insane impulse, a three-way with you friends. Is there more?” Kate demanded.
“There were orgies,” Sam shouted. “There were nights when we brought home four or five different women and I would fuck them all every way possible while Hannah watched. Does that make you feel better?”
“No,” Kate revolted. It didn’t make her feel better—it made her feel repulsed. Her stomach turned as if she had just taken a chug of soured milk, but it did amaze her that he could still shock her. It was hard, but not impossible, to imagine that Sam. Not only had they come from different backgrounds, they also seemed to have had very dissimilar morals as well. His past drug use Kate had attributed to being very young and stupid. Sam had failed to mention that on his path to sobriety he substituted the cocaine for sex, imagine that.
Sam must have seen the disgust on her face. His anger evaporated until she could only see guilt shining in his eyes.
“In my defense, I never imagined I would meet someone like you, much less fall in love with a woman like you,” he tried to explain.
“That’s because women like me don’t participate in group sex,” Kate hissed and then glared at him, “and you called me a slut last night.”
“Do you think I forgot about that?” Sam questioned. “All that stuff happened before I met you, but last night…” he explained as traces of hurt reflected on his face, “…you liked him, Kate.”
“Of course I did,” Kate answered defensively. “Eric is a very funny man. He wants to be a stand-up comedian. You would like him too.”
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