by Elle Everton
I slip on the green dress and trade my converse sneakers for a pair of stilettos. My feet are screaming but the heels are sexy as hell and totally worth the pain and discomfort. Plus I know Sam and Bennett will love them. Just thinking about them makes me smile.
I honestly can’t remember the last time I felt this happy. Not before Dad got sick, I’m sure. The was the last time I’d let myself feel at all carefree. Since then I’d been a ball of worry, a complete stress case.
I grab my make-up case out of my bag and throw on a little blush and mascara. No point wearing too much make-up — after a couple of hours with Sam and Bennett, I’m usually a hot mess anyway.
That thought thrills me too. Just thinking of the things Bennett and Sam and I get up to makes my sex tighten and my nipples pearl. Watching Sam fuck Bennett the other day was probably the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life ... and the crazy thing is, they seemed to feel the same way. It was a dream come true.
I grab my handbag and head out of the bathroom, studiously ignoring Heath’s lecherous gaze. I wait at the window, watching for Sam’s yellow Ferrari.
My heart leaps when I see him pull into the parking lot, but it’s Heath that lets out a low wolf whistle.
“Wow, look at Richie Rich out there. He must be lost, because no way is he coming in to Earl’s.”
I roll my eyes as I sling my bag over my shoulder.
“My ride’s here,” I say casually. “See you tomorrow, Heath.”
He gets it immediately, and it’s fun to watch his jaw drop. I push the door of the diner open and stroll out into the lot where Sam is idling the car, waiting for me. He hops out to pull the passenger door open for me, but not before planting a long and passionate kiss on my lips. Hope Heath caught that too.
I climb into the car and Sam hops back in the other side. He peels out of the parking lot, leaving half his tires behind on the asphalt as he does. We hit the highway and then head back into the downtown. We’re meeting Bennett for dinner near the Marina, and then Sam has promised to take us both out for a boat ride. The sun should be going down then and it’ll be nice to watch the sunset with them from out on the water.
Though how much attention we’ll be paying to the sunset is up for debate.
“What’s so funny?” Sam asks, catching my barely suppressed smile.
“Nothing,” I say. I comb my fingers through my hair. “Just thinking of how crazy this all is.”
Sam chuckles. “It is pretty crazy, I’ll give you that. Certainly never expected to find myself here … and especially not with Bennett. You, on the other hand …” he grins, glancing over at me.
“Me what?”
“You, I knew the second I saw you. That you were someone special. That’s why I kinda lost my mind a little bit during the bidding.” He’s grinning, but he looks almost bashful saying the words.
I grin back, but inside I’m touched by his admission. “Well, if you guys hadn’t both lost your minds a little, none of us would be here right now.”
He chuckles at that. “Yes, you’re right about that. And I think where we are is pretty great.”
“Me too,” I say softly. I gaze at his profile as he drives. He looks happy, I realize. Sam’s always had a quick grin, but it never quite reached his eyes. Now his whole face looks relaxed, more at ease, and when he smiles at me, the corners of his eyes crinkle up. I lean back in my seat and sigh happily. Sam puts his hand on my knee, stroking it gently with his thumb.
We get to the marina about a half hour later, and Sam pulls up in front of the restaurant, tossing the keys at the young valet who jogs up to meet us. He puts his hand lightly on my lower back and guides me into the restaurant.
My eyes are already scanning the place, looking for Bennett, but he’s nowhere to be seen yet. Sam speaks to the hostess and she leads us to a circular booth near the back. I catch the way she keeps darting her eyes back to check out Sam, but his hand never leaves my lower back. When he catches me watching, he winks and strokes his thumb along my spine.
Even that small touch is enough to make my tummy roll. It’s crazy how Sam — and Bennett — can undo me with just the simplest touch. Part of me wants to tell him to just screw dinner and take us straight to the boat, but I’m actually kind of hungry and I know I’m going to need my stamina for later.
Sam and I are seated and he orders us a bottle of wine while we wait for Bennett. He asks me about work and I tell him about the bus load of Chinese tourists and how fascinated they all were by my red hair, and he tells me about some new condo sites he spent the day scouting. Our jobs are very different, but somehow it’s easy to talk to him.
After a half hour, Sam and I have made it through half the bottle of wine and nearly an entire bread basket, but there’s still no sign of Bennett. I reach into my purse and pull out my phone to see if he’s texted, but there’s no message.
“Maybe I’ll text him,” I say to Sam. There’s no need to explain who ‘him’ is.
“Sure. He probably got lost,” Sam jokes.
Where are you? Waiting at the restaurant.
I add a kissy face emoji for good measure and send it off. I can see the dots appear right away, indicating that he’s typing back, but it takes awhile for a message to come through. When it does, it’s just one word.
Outside.
I frown at the phone. Why is he outside?
Well, are you coming in, silly?
I type, adding a tongue-out emoji.
I don’t know.
I frown again and then point the phone at Sam so he can read the exchange. His brow furrows.
“Tell him Sam said to get his ass in here right now because I’m hungry.”
I giggle and type exactly that, sending it off.
This time there are no typing bubbles. I set the phone down on the table, biting my lip.
“That’s weird, right?” I ask Sam.
He shrugs. “It’s Bennett. Who knows?” But his brow knits together.
I’m about to say something else when I finally see Bennett coming towards us. My face breaks into a smile and I stand up to give him a hug, but as he gets closer, my smile fades away.
He looks … different. His face is hard, though his hair is tousled. He’s wearing a well-cut suit but somehow it looks rumpled, or like he’s not carrying it off quite the way he usually does.
He leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek and I finally smell the alcohol wafting off him.
Christ. He’s been drinking. No, scratch that — he’s drunk.
He pushes me into the booth and then flops in beside me. He’s already reaching for the bottle of red wine and the empty wine glass we’d asked the server to leave for him.
I glance nervously at Sam, who’s frowning.
“Hey, maybe try some of this bread, Bennett,” Sam says, shoving the bread basket over towards him.
Bennett looks at the bread but not at Sam. Then he goes ahead and fills up his wine glass anyway.
Sam and I exchange a glance. I may not have known Bennett for very long, but this seems incredibly out of character for the man I do know.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, gently touching his elbow. My mind is turning through every possibility, wondering what could have happened.
“Of course everything is okay,” he spits. “Why wouldn’t everything be okay?”
He drains his wine glass and reaches for the bottle again but Sam whisks it out of his grasp. Bennett shoots him a glare.
“Why don’t we get a bottle of sparkling water for the table?” Sam asks, raising his hand slightly to try to catch our server’s attention.
“Why?” Bennett snarls. “So you can fuck me up the ass with it?”
It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Sam drops his hand and glares at Bennett.
“Bennett, seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he growls. “I already said that.”
“Well, you’re sure acting like so
mething’s wrong.”
I look back and forth between the men on either side of me. Sam is glaring at Bennett, all his earlier cheer completely wiped away. Bennett, on the other hand, is still staring intently down at the bread basket. I realize he doesn’t want to look at me — or at Sam.
I put my hand on his and squeeze. “If this is about the other day, we can talk about it. Sort it all out.”
Bennett whips his hand out from under mine. “What makes you think I want to talk about what happened the other day? What makes you think I have any desire whatsoever to bring that up again?”
“Um, maybe because you just suggested I fuck you up the ass with a bottle of Perrier,” Sam hisses. His eyes blaze with fury at the way Bennett is acting.
Tears are filling my eyes, just because his abrupt change in attitude is so startling. Everything had seemed fine when we’d left Orchid the other day. In fact, it was just a few hours ago that I was thinking about how happy we are. Jesus.
“Don’t feel you need to bother with the bottle, then,” Bennett spits. “I’m sure you’d be happy just to use your dick again. You and Lila would both like that, wouldn’t you?”
I try to blink back the tears but they’re spilling down my cheeks now, painting a line down to my chin. Why is he being such an asshole?
“Bennett,” I try to start, but he cuts me off.
“Shut-up, Lila. Just shut-up.”
“Don’t you fucking talk to her like that,” Sam blasts, standing up. He eases out the other side of the booth and then reaches his hand down to me, helping me out his side so I don’t have to go past Bennett. I clutch Sam’s hand as he glares at Bennett.
“I get that you’re upset,” he says. “It was a big step — for all of us. But you don’t get to be an asshole about it. And you especially don’t get to take whatever issue you have with me out on Lila.”
Bennett doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look up at us. He’s still staring at the bread basket, though thank God he hasn’t reached for the wine bottle again.
After it becomes clear that Bennett isn’t willing to discuss this, Sam sighs and throws some cash down on the table.
“Come on, Lila,” he says. He leads me out of the restaurant.
I sneak one look back at Bennett before we go, but he’s still sitting there with his head down, staring at the focaccia like it’s got all the answers in the world.
Chapter 25
Lila
We burst out of the restaurant. Sam’s irritation is radiating off him in waves. His hands have curled into fists and his chest rises and falls — he looks like he wants to punch something, and I’m glad that it didn’t come to blows between him and Bennett back there.
I put my hand on his elbow and look up into his face. He shakes his head, and then wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. I instantly feel comforted, pressed against his solid warm chest.
“I’m sorry, gorgeous,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell him honestly. “Bennett was the one being the ass.”
“Yeah,” he says, though his tone doesn’t sound convinced. I search his face and see … guilt.
“Sam, what’s wrong?”
He runs a hand through his dark hair and sighs.
“I don’t know,” he says finally. “I just worry we pushed him too far.”
I bite my lip. Bennett clearly thinks so, but he’s a grown-up. No one forced him to do anything.
I tell Sam that, and he forces a smile. “You’re right, of course. This whole thing is just … a little out of my comfort zone.”
“Mine too,” I tell him honestly. “That’s why Bennett should have just talked to us. I know he feels vulnerable but … we all do.”
Sam nods, then gives me another squeeze. “Let’s get out of here,” he says finally. “I could still take you out on the boat, if you want.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t really feel like going out on the water now.”
Sam nods, but there’s disappointment on his face.
“Do you think we could just go back to your place instead?” I ask, biting my lip and gazing up into his brown eyes.
He grins. “Absolutely.”
A little while later, Sam is leading me up the elevator to his penthouse apartment. When the doors slide soundlessly open, I’m expecting to be in a hallway, but instead we’re right in Sam’s foyer.
“Wow,” I say, unable to keep the breathless awe out of my voice as I drop my purse on the black lacquered console table. “You own the whole floor?”
He chuckles. “I own the whole building. It was a development project from a few years ago. I was supposed to sell this unit but I ended up liking it so much I kept it for myself.”
My mouth drops open, and I shake my head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to comprehend how much money you and Bennett have,” I say.
Sam stiffens at Bennett’s name, and I instantly want to kick myself. But Sam shrugs it off.
“Do you want a glass of wine?” he asks. “Since you didn’t get to finish yours?”
“Sure. That would be nice.”
He leads me through a huge open-concept living space and into a kitchen that looks like it belongs on the set of a gourmet cooking show. From a sleek white cabinet he pulls two gorgeous goblet-shaped wine glasses.
When he’s uncorked a bottle of red, he fills up both our glasses and nudges mine over to me. We tap glasses but don’t say anything — I guess neither of us are quite sure what to toast to right now.
The wine is delicious though, and I try to relax as I let Sam lead me back into the main living space and onto one of the two plush grey sofas that face each other. He sinks down beside me and we both sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping our wine and lost in our own thoughts.
“Well,” Sam says finally. He slides his arm around my shoulders. “No point in letting him ruin our entire evening, right?” He trails his fingers along my upper arm, sending a rush of shivers through me.
“Right,” I say softly. Sam plucks my wine glass out of my hands and sets it down on the marble coffee table in front of us. His hand goes back to tracing patterns along my bare arm and then his lips find their way to my neck.
I settle into his embrace, glad to have something to take my mind off Bennett. Sam’s mouth marks a trail along my throat before coming back up to my own lips. His tongue pushes into my mouth, clashing against mine. I tilt my head back, letting him claim me with his kiss.
My hands move instinctively to his shirt, fumbling with his buttons as his kiss intensifies. I can already feel my nipples tightening, craving the feel of his hands on me. He must be reading my mind, because he paws at the top of my dress, finding the zipper in the back and eking it down and tugging it gently off my shoulders. His big hands palm my breasts through the lacy fabric of my bra, and he moves his thumb across my tight nipples.
It sends a rush of goose bumps across my skin, along with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I try to ignore my misgivings and focus instead on his kiss, on his touch, on the way my pussy is already starting to dampen.
Sam shifts, trying to get more comfortable, and instead pins my hair against the back of the sofa. I yelp.
“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, cradling my head.
“It’s okay,” I smile. I return to kissing him, snuggling closer to him. I’m practically in his lap now, and I can feel his erection bulging out of his pants. I press my palm against it and stroke, savoring Sam’s sharp intake of breath and the way I can make him react with just a simple touch.
He cradles me and leans me backwards, so that my back is against the stack of throw pillows adorning the corner of the sofa. My dress is already half down and he peels it the rest of the way off now. His hand glides across my bare stomach, over my hip, down my thighs. His touch warms me, but it does nothing to dispel the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Still, my hands reach automatically for Sam’s
belt buckle. Slipping down between our two bodies, I undo the belt and then the button on his pants, until I can push his pants down off his hips. His cock springs toward me immediately, like a heat-seeking missile, already pushing up against my pussy. I squirm down, trying to get closer.
Sam stops kissing me long enough to grin at me and push my hair out of my face. I force myself to smile at him as he reaches down between us, grabbing his cock at the base and lining it up against my entrance. I reach down to help him and move the gusset of my panties aside.
Sam sinks into me. It feels good — amazing, really — and I clench my pussy around him as he starts to slowly thrust. I run my fingers through his dark hair and think about what a good man he is. Wondering whether he blames me for pushing him on Bennett. Wondering whether he’ll still want to see me when this month is all over… which, judging by Bennett’s behavior at the restaurant earlier, might be sooner than we think.
Just thinking about Bennett makes my stomach clench. The forlorn way he’d stared at that stupid bread basket. The way he couldn’t meet our eyes.
I’m so distracted by my thoughts of Bennett that I don’t notice that Sam has stilled above me.
“You still here?” he asks softly, running his thumb along my jaw.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m here.”
“No, you’re not. What’s wrong, Lila?”
I bite my lip, but then decide there’s no point in lying.
“Just thinking about Bennett,” I admit.
Sam sighs, and for a second I think I’ve made him mad, but then a small rueful smile crosses his lips.
“Me too.”
I let out a huff that’s part relief and part sadness.
“Do you think we pushed him too hard?”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he tells me, holding my jaw between his fingers and forcing me to meet his eyes. “Remember that, okay? I might have pushed him too far, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”