Falling to Pieces

by Michelle Louise

  It has been so long since Sam has touched me like this and I don’t want it to end. I am so afraid that I will open my eyes and he will no longer be here. That this will all just be some drug-induced fantasy.

  One finger sinks inside my heat, gliding in and out before being joined by a second. My hips continue to grind against his hand causing the heel of his palm to rub in a way that makes my toes curl. Our kiss turns frantic with much more force than before, both of our resolves breaking.

  Releasing my mouth from his hold, Sam tightens the grip on my hair, pulling back gently and pressing his lips to my neck. Sucking and nipping, he makes his way down my neck to my chest. I intake a sharp breath when his mouth latches onto my nipple and his strokes turn harder and faster. My core clenches tightly, ready for release.

  He shifts his mouth to my other breast causing a heated sensation to run rapid through my body. Slowing the movement of the two fingers inside me, he applies a steady pressure against my front wall as his thumb rubs in circles.

  My eyes flutter shut and I can’t take it any longer, the pleasure is too intense. He releases his mouth with a popping sound and a gasp escapes my lungs.

  “I can feel you tightening around my fingers. Are you close?” Sam asks, his breathing just as heavy as mine.

  I nod in response because I am unable to form words to express what I want to say. He lifts his lips in a confident smirk and applies enough pressure to push me over the edge. I am hit with a release so strong that I bury my face against his neck and bite down in order to drown out my moan. His rhythm slows as I clench around him and my whole body shudders with aftershock spasms.

  Sam wraps both arms around my lower back and holds me tightly against him, our bare chests pressed together and my arms wrapped around his neck.

  I rest my head on my arm, trying to get my breathing under control. After such an intense orgasm it is quite a difficult feat, but totally worth it. Sam’s hardness is pressed beneath me and I rub myself against him, causing his entire body to tense.

  “That is not safe, little red.” Sam laughs, lifting by my hips and setting me back a few inches on top of his thighs.

  My hands run up his jeans and they are halted just before reaching his button and zipper. I lift my head, looking at Sam in question. “Why are you stopping me? That looks painful.” I tease dropping my gaze to the bulge below.

  “This was about you, not me. You don’t need to worry about me.” Pulling my hands to his mouth, he places sweet kisses to my knuckles.

  “But I want to.” With anyone else I wouldn’t argue, but with Sam, nothing is as satisfying as watching him lose control and knowing that I was the one who did it. That is why at this moment I am pouting because he won’t release the grip on my hands, keeping me from what I want.

  “You better put that lip away.” Tugging on my hands, he pulls me closer, nipping on my bottom lip. “We need to get you something to eat. I have a feeling you didn’t eat last night and must be starving at this point.”

  “You’re right, I am starving and you are keeping me from putting you in my mouth.” I pull on my hands but his hold is too strong for me.

  Laughing, Sam presses a kiss to my lips and each corner of my mouth. When he tries to move me off of him, I encircle him with my arms around his neck and my legs locked at his lower back. Clinging to him tightly, I refuse to let go which only triggers more laughter. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Sam stands, holding me up with one arm beneath my ass. He walks over to my dresser before setting me down on my feet.

  “First things first, you need to put on some real clothes and then I am taking you out for food.”

  “You, sir, are being a party pooper.” I open my drawers and pull out fresh dry panties and a bra, before walking to my closet to grab my favorite skinny jeans and a tank top.

  Turning back around I watch disappointedly as Sam pulls his shirt over his head, covering his sexy body. Such a shame. Our eyes meet and he winks, catching me checking him out, which only frustrates me more. With an audible huff, I turn, march into my bathroom and slam the door. It may be a little overkill, but it felt good at the time and only caused Sam to laugh harder, which I could hear even through the bathroom door.

  Jerk!

  Catching my reflection in the mirror, I realize that Sam is probably really laughing at this horrid, hot mess on my head. Good Lord, I look like Medusa with my curls sticking out all over the place. I need to tame this beast before I go anywhere. It is still semi-damp, so I spray it lightly with water before scrunching the curls up with mousse. A little water and mousse can make a world of difference when it came to my hair.

  Looking down at my chest, I notice Sam left a few love tattoos. But, at least he was nice enough to leave his where they could be hidden. I bit him right where his neck meets his shoulder. After he put his shirt back on I noticed the discolored skin peaking out of the collar.

  Oopsie.

  A deep rumbling comes from my stomach, reminding me of the task at hand. I quickly apply a light layer of mineral powder and mascara before exiting the bathroom. My room is empty when I enter so I slip on my sandals and grab my bag before heading out to the living room.

  I barely make it out of the hallway when I am assaulted from the side and arms embrace me so tightly, I can hardly breathe.

  “Never, and I mean never, leave here mad or upset with me ever again. Do you hear me Cheyenne Thomas?” Sawyer squeeze fiercely with every ounce of strength she has in her.

  “Can’t…breathe…” I try to get out the words and thankfully she releases her vice grip and smiles apologetically. “I am sorry for being an asshole yesterday. It’s getting close to that time of month and stupid crap is just getting to me. You know I love you and I understand that you have Preston now, so I’m not your person anymore.”

  “Are you kidding me? Chey, you will always be my person. I don’t care if we are sixty and married with kids and grandkids. You will always be my person.”

  “I love you, friend.” I open my arms and Sawyer takes the invite, luckily giving me a lighter hug this time.

  “I love you too. Just don’t scare me like that again. I demanded Preston to take me to Chad’s so I could be with you, but he insisted that you would be well taken care of with that guy in there.” Sawyer jokes tilting her head towards the kitchen, where Sam is sitting watching us with humor in his eyes.

  If she only knew how well he just took care of me. I turn away from her, walking to Sam, in attempt to hide my flushed skin. The memory of what had transpired in my bed gets me all worked up. Sam is the first guy that has been in my room here and definitely the first to be in my bed. I refused to ever bring guys back here. For one, I didn’t want them to know where I live, you know, safety precautions. Second, I felt that they would taint the sanctuary feel of my room. But with Sam, like everything else, it just feels right.

  As I get closer, his smug smile falls and his eyes are filled with heat. Seeing the blush that masks my face, he knows exactly what I was just thinking about.

  I grab his hand, as I walk by and pull him behind me. “Come on, hot shot, I am starving and I owe you lunch.”

  Walking through the threshold of the doorway I feel his arms wrap around my middle and he stops me, pulling my back against his chest.

  “Hmmm…” He hums into my ear and shivers run down my back. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.” He whispers, referring to the nickname I gave him in high school after taking our baseball team to the championship.

  “Old habit, I guess.”

  Sam begins walking forward, still pressed against my back. At the sound of the door clicking shut behind us, I am whipped around and pressed up against him. With my arms held up above my head, and his hands around my wrists, his mouth lands on my neck as I lean to the side, giving him better access.

  Food can wait. We should go back inside. Right now.

  I attempt to push my lower half away from the door to make contact with him, but he rele
ases my hands and backs away out of my reach. I groan at the absence of his mouth on tender skin of my neck.

  He reaches for my hand and pulls me away from the door and down the stairs. When we get to his truck, Sam opens the door and makes sure I am settled and buckled before closing it and heading to his side to get in.

  Jumping in the drivers seat, he starts the truck and takes a deep breath before looking over to me. “You have no idea what you do to me, Cheyenne.”

  Shaking his head in thought, he returns his attention to the road and backs out of the parking spot.

  Though I don’t have the right words to say, I do have an idea, because he does the same to me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Throwing cash down on the table, Sam grabs my hand leading me out of the restaurant in a hurry. He had just hung up the phone with whom I could only assume was a frantic Mrs. Carter, and from the gathered bits and pieces I overheard, it was regarding Sam’s father.

  “Sorry to rush you out like that, hope you had enough to eat. I need to get home and get packed.” Sam says as we make our way to the parking lot.

  “It’s not a problem, I ate plenty. Is everything okay?” I ask, knowing it most certainly is not, especially if Sam agreed to get a plane ticket and fly to California immediately. His mom would meet him there the following day, so it must be pretty serious. Sam hasn’t been out to visit his father in long time.

  “My dad is in the hospital with multiple injuries. Mom says he’s in critical condition and the Doctor’s don’t sound positive.” His voice is steady, but it cuts straight to my heart.

  “Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry to hear that.” There wasn’t anything else I could say.

  The rest of the car ride remained silent until we reached my apartment.

  “Hope you are feeling better, sorry about everything. I will call you once I get there.” He reaches for my hand and leans across the seat to kiss my cheek.

  I turn my head and lay my lips sweetly across his. “I’ll be keeping you and your family in my thoughts. Give your mom a hug for me and just call me when you can.” I kissed him again. “Bye, Sam.”

  “Bye, Cheyenne.” And with the slightest smile he put the truck in gear as I closed the door and he was off.

  It’s a horrible situation and I had no clue what to do or say in order to help. I felt like an idiot for just sitting in silence on the car ride back, but Sam’s mind seemed to be a million miles away.

  Watching him pull away, I began thinking about the last 24 hours. Sam spent every moment with me to make sure I was okay and cared so deeply for me. And now in his moment of need, I wanted nothing more than to take his pain away. I too, cared deeply for him.

  It’s strange how a certain chain of events can open your eyes to something you can’t believe you have been ignoring or didn’t see. I wanted to be with Sam Carter, and only him. My feelings were stronger than they have ever been, and I wanted to be someone he deserves, someone worthy of his heart.

  Over the past few days I have been in constant contact with Sam, as he’s been keeping me up to date on his father. From what they have gathered of the situation, it seemed to have been a drug deal gone horribly bad. His father was nearly beaten to death, suffering from broken bones and internal bleeding. He is extremely lucky to be alive.

  Mrs. Carter had to get back to work and flew back home once they determine he was going to pull through and make a recovery. It would be a slow recovery so Sam decided to stay a little longer to help his father and possibly encourage him to seek help. His mom found a few rehabilitation facilities and got the proper paperwork together.

  It seems this may have been rock bottom for Mr. Carter, and he was more than willing to accept the help and signed all the necessary documents to get started. They would be transitioning him to the center later next week and then Sam would be heading home.

  Sam’s dad had been a drug abuser for most of his life. Mrs. Carter thought he had made a change when Sam was born, but it didn’t last long. The late nights and lies were enough to send her packing and she brought Sam to Redwood to make a better life. Apparently, even losing his family was not enough to overcome his addiction.

  I truly hope that for Sam’s sake, this really is the bottom and there is only one way to go from here.

  The weekend was here and I was ready to get out of town to spend some time with my dad. We had dinner plans with my grandparents but then the whole weekend was open for us to hang out together. I was really looking forward to it.

  The drive to Redwood wasn’t too long, but I was dreading doing it alone and knew the time would drag on. Four hours was a long time to be stuck in a car with no one to entertain you. This time, though, I must admit that it is not as bad with my new fancy car. My Jetta had a busted CD-player that had the same disc stuck inside since high school. Though, it was fun on occasion, when I felt like playing throw back jams or when I was trying to cheer up my best friend with the best love songs of the 90’s. The radio was also kind of busted and only worked half the time.

  This beauty, on the other hand, not only has a working radio, but is also fully equipped with satellite radio. So many channels to listen to! I spend most of my time just scanning and stopping on random ones. Surprisingly, there is some dirty stuff on the radio these days.

  The Audi also has Bluetooth so I am able to jam out to the playlists on my phone. My favorite thing however, is for sure the hands-free feature to use when I am talking on the phone. I am probably the most easily distracted driver on the planet, and I shouldn’t even talk on the phone while behind the wheel, but with my hands free, I can chat it up all day.

  My dad’s house was located in the only up-scale housing development in the town. Most of the homes in Redwood were situated on large amounts of acreage, like Sawyer’s family’s ranch, but of course, is not the way the Thomas families live.

  The development is made up of only eight houses, if you can even call them that. In my opinion, anything with more than three thousand square feet was considered a damn mansion. Dad’s was the second largest, not to be out done by my grandparents. Thomas Building and Construction just happened to be the builders for the entire neighborhood.

  Go figure.

  Don’t get me wrong, I loved my grand parents, we just had a difference of opinion on lots of things. They weren’t the picture perfect loving and nurturing grandparents that most children are blessed with. To my grandfather, nothing was more important than money and how to expand his business to make even more. My grandmother had more of a softer side, but only when it was just the two of us.

  Naturally, my grandfather made sure to spoil me over the years, the only way he knew how, by throwing money at me. Maybe that is why it became so hard for me to except such extravagant gifts, like the car from my dad. Sometimes, I just wanted a hug and to feel loved no matter what bad decisions I made.

  A trust fund was set up by my grandparents which I gain access to when I turn thirty and pretty much guarantees that I am set for life. Sawyer is the only person, other than my family, that has any knowledge about it. Just in my savings account alone, I had enough money that I could be comfortable without working for quite some time.

  Dad never understood the need for my job at the bookstore, but the way I saw it, I didn’t want to be that girl who mooched off her family and never learned to take care of herself. My schooling and housing were paid for in full by my family and even that was hard for me to accept. In ways, it just makes me feel like I am under the constant control of my grandfather.

  My mom taught me from a young age that we didn’t need anyone taking care of us. Just because we were women, didn’t mean that we couldn’t provide for ourselves or anyone else. After the divorce, she refused any alimony, and only allowed my dad to purchase a small two-bedroom house for us. She started working at an accounting firm in town, and it just so happens, that is where she met Bill.

  Pulling up to my dad’s house, I park my car in front of the garage bay farthest from the f
ront door. Typically this is where Dad always kept his antique cars, so I knew I wouldn’t be blocking him in. I left around ten this morning planning my arrival close to two because he was supposed to leave the office early. I haven’t heard from him otherwise, so grabbing my bags I walk up the steps and try the doorknob.

  Locked.

  Reaching into my purse, I pull out my extra key rings and locate the gold key to unlock the door. I push open the solid wood door with my hip and carry my bags inside, dropping them in the entryway. The house is eerily quiet making me wonder if Dad has made it home yet.

  “Hey Dad, I’m here.” I call out and wait for a response.

  Nothing.

  I guess I will take my stuff to my room and get settled before he gets here. Picking my bags back up, I tote them up the massive staircase to the second floor where my bedroom is located at the end of the hall. I have kept very few personal items here over the years, mainly because I didn’t spend enough time here ever feel at home. Once Dad re-married to his current wife, I dreaded having to spend weekends here, which really sucked because I missed my dad so much.

  When I open the bedroom door and walk inside, it appears just as I left it all those months ago when I was here last. Queen size canopy bed, covered in white linens and the matching cherry-oak dresser and armoire taking up little space in the huge room. As I look around, I begin to notice that my pictures are gone. On my dresser, I always kept an old photo of when I was a baby and my dad was holding me. The proud look in his eyes always made me smile and was one of my favorite photos. I also have a copy in my apartment. There were multiple pictures of Sawyer and I over the years and one with Austin and Sam the night we went camping and scared the boys. That one was on my nightstand and is also missing.

  Now, this just looks like a regular guest room.