by April Wilson
Shane glances at Beth, who nods at him, smiling tearfully. “As you all know, Beth and I are expecting a son this summer. We’ve decided to name him Lucas Samuel, in honor of his guardian angel, Samuel Harrison.”
The sighs and gasps in the room are audible. Sam reaches blindly for my hand, squeezing it hard. Tension radiates through him, and his hand is shaking. He looks from Shane to Beth to me, his brown eyes glittering too. Hell, I don’t think there’s a dry eye in the room right now, including mine.
For once, Sam is speechless as he scans the eyes on him. Giving him my undivided attention, I swallow my anxiety and raise our clasped hands to my mouth and kiss the back of his hand. If I’m going to be his boyfriend, now’s as good a time as any to show him I can do it. The look on his face is priceless.
Someone starts clapping, and soon everyone has joined in. I hear a few hoots and hollers, at least some of which I know are coming from Lia.
Sam blushes, but his eyes are locked on me. “Jesus, Cooper,” he says, stunned by my actions.
“What?” I say, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal that I just kissed my boyfriend’s hand in front of a room full of people. That’s what he wanted from me, right? To act like a boyfriend. And that’s what I’m doing.
“Get a room, will ya?” Lia says, shaking her head.
* * *
Dinner proceeds with plenty of great food and lots of conversation. As usual, there’s a lot of joking and ribbing at the table. Lia and Sam, in particular, can’t help taunting each other—they’re worse than children. I sit back and enjoy watching everyone.
It’s nice to see Gabrielle Hunter again. She doesn’t often get to visit us because of her busy schedule at Rinaldo’s. As a sous chef, she works her butt off, hoping to be promoted one day to chef. Peter Capelli would be a fool not to promote her.
Jamie and Molly are for the most part wrapped up in each other, leaning close and talking. Jamie has his hand on the back of Molly’s neck, gently massaging it. He says something to her and she smiles at him, then kisses him.
Erin is telling a story about something that happened at Clancy’s, and I notice how Mack hangs on her every word. He tries to act aloof and unaffected by her, but he’s not fooling anyone. I feel for him. Shane has warned him more than once to keep his distance from Erin. She’s what—a sheltered, twenty-two-year-old virgin, and he’s thirty-five years old, former military, who’s been around the block more than a time or two. Shane’s made it perfectly clear that Mack will have to deal with him if he hurts Erin.
Erin, on the other hand, is completely oblivious to Shane’s threatening glances at Mack. She’s hanging on Mack’s every word and gazing at him with blatant puppy-dog longing. Poor Mack, he’d have to be a monk to remain indifferent to her.
Of course, I have no business judging Mack for the age difference between him and Erin. I have no room to talk—Sam’s practically half my age. I’m the true letch, setting my sights on a much younger man. But hey, the heart wants what it wants, right? Age doesn’t really factor into that. As long as everyone involved is a consenting adult….
Speaking of my much younger man, I’m keeping my eye on him as he smiles and chats with everyone at the table. He’s clearly a social butterfly, at ease with everyone, while I’m more comfortable silently observing.
I notice that he’s hardly touched any of his food tonight. He’s had two glasses of red wine, not to mention the bottle of beer he drank before we were seated at the dining table, but not much food other than a few bites of his salad.
I lean toward him. “Aren’t you hungry?”
He gives me a knowing glance, and I smile at him. I know exactly what’s on his mind. He’s anticipating the fact that I’m going to be fucking the daylights out of him in a few hours. “Got butterflies?”
Sam shrugs, but he can’t manage to hide the flush creeping into his cheeks. He looks at me, pretending to be shocked. “Who are you, and what have you done with Cooper?”
Once everyone is done with their meals, the caterers come by with a dessert cart laden with every sugary concoction imaginable. Sam eyes a bowl of chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream and chocolate curls, but ends up passing on it. Damn, he is nervous. He’s passing up chocolate?
As the evening wears on, he grows more and more quiet, and I start to get the feeling this is more than just bedtime jitters. I lean toward him, close enough to whisper, “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, not even bothering to make eye contact with me. Damn. Something is bothering him.
* * *
Dinner is followed by more drinking and lots of laughter and conversation. Sam crashes on one of the sofas with the girls, but he still seems kind of quiet to me. The guys are mostly hanging out at the bar. A lot of these folks live in the building, and the others came by Uber rides and will leave the same way, so finding designated drivers really isn’t an issue.
As the clock approaches midnight, folks begin to head home. It’s a Friday night, so most of them can sleep in tomorrow. Beth certainly will. She’s half asleep on the sofa right now, leaning against Shane, who has his arms around her and his hands clasped over her belly. Sam seems pretty subdued still, which doesn’t reassure me.
When it’s just the four of us left, Shane lifts Beth into his arms. “Time for bed, young lady.” Then he looks at me. “You’ll arm the security system?”
“Yes. Go to bed.”
“Goodnight, guys,” Beth says, making no protest when Shane carries her out of the room and down the hallway that leads to their suite.
I walk up to the back of the sofa and reach over to massage Sam’s shoulders. “How about you? Shall I pick you up and carry you to bed, too?”
He laughs. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I lean over the back of the sofa and kiss the side of Sam’s neck, making him shiver. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed while I lock up?”
“All right.” Sam rises from the sofa and walks around to meet me. He slides his hands up my arms, squeezing my biceps. Then he leans closer and kisses me gently. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being my boyfriend tonight.”
I smile at him, feeling a pang of guilt, as if he’s giving me way too much credit. All I did was touch him a few times and hold his hand and kiss the back of it. “I didn’t do all that much.”
“You did plenty. It made a difference.”
I pull him into my arms so he can feel my erection. I’ve been biding my time all evening, pacing myself, and now it’s our time. Now I can have him all to myself.
I thread my fingers in his upswept hair, holding him fast. “I can’t wait to get you into our bed.” I plant another kiss on his lips and reach around to swat him on his ass. “Now, go get ready.”
Chapter 20
Cooper
When the penthouse security is locked up tighter than Fort Knox, I head to our suite and rap lightly on the closed door before opening it. There’s no answer, but I wasn’t expecting one. He’s likely in the shower. There’s a single light on in the room—the lamp on the nightstand. The door to the bathroom is ajar, and I can hear the water running. I smile, imagining Sam getting ready for bed. I imagine his nerves getting the best of him. This is just our second time to have sex since reuniting, and the anticipation is likely killing the both of us.
The room is already tidy, so all I have to do is pull down the sheets. I’ll leave the nightlight on so he can see when he comes out of the bathroom.
I head for the closet to ditch my boots and socks in the closet, along with my T-shirt. I leave on my jeans that hang low on my hips because he thinks they’re hot.
While he’s in the separate shower room, I take care of business and brush my teeth. I already showered before the folks arrived for dinner this evening, so I’m fresh as a daisy and ready for my guy. Then I head back into the bedroom to wait for him.
The water shuts off before long, signaling that his shower is over, and I wait
for him to appear, perhaps with nothing more than a towel around his waist. I wait, and wait, but there’s no sign of him, which is odd. I sit on the side of the bed, giving him a little more time, but still he doesn’t show. After giving him another ten minutes, I know something’s wrong.
I find him seated on the wooden sauna bench outside the walk-in shower, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. He’s just sitting there, leaning forward, his elbows on his thighs, staring numbly at the tile at his feet. “Sam?”
He glances up at me from beneath his dark lashes, but he says nothing.
At the haunted look in his eyes, my heart rate kicks into overdrive. “What’s wrong?”
“This is all my fault.”
I crouch down in front of him, laying my hands on his knees to balance myself. “What is?”
“All the extra security on the building. I know Shane’s worried about Beth, and I don’t blame him. God, if anything happened to her because of me—”
“Whoa, stop right there, kid,” I say, looking up into his eyes. His gaze is anywhere but on me. “Sam, look at me. How is any of this your fault?”
“The only reason you went down there to confront those assholes was because I pushed you into it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is! I gave you an ultimatum. I told you if you couldn’t open up, we were through. It’s because of me that you went down there in the first place.”
I sigh. “Sam, this was something I’ve been needing to do for years. I just kept sweeping it under the rug because I didn’t want to face it. And honestly, I should have done it years ago. None of this is your fault.”
He lowers his head into his hands and grips his tousled wet hair, tugging on the strands.
“I’ll get your comb,” I say, patting his knees as I rise. I grab his comb off the counter and begin combing through his mop of tangled hair, gathering the long top layers into a bun and securing it with a hair tie I find lying on his pile of discarded clothing. When I’m done, I run my fingers gently through his undercut, smoothing the strands. I hate that he’s hurting because of me. “Honestly, baby, this is not your fault.”
“Shane probably thinks it is.”
I grasp his chin and force him to look up at me. “No, he doesn’t.”
His eyes fill with tears. “They’re planning to name the baby after me. I don’t deserve that. If anything happened to Beth, or to the baby—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to Beth. Shane will move her to Kenilworth if it becomes necessary. Nothing can touch her there.” I reach for his hands and pull him to his feet. “Come to bed. We don’t have to have sex. Just let me hold you, okay? This is our first night together in our bed. It should be a happy time, and I’m not going to let you beat yourself up for something that’s not your fault.”
His towel falls to the floor, revealing a body that’s nothing short of a work of art. As I look my fill at those long, muscled limbs dusted with auburn hair, his gorgeous dick starts to harden. My gaze sweeps upward, past abs and a chest that is cut with muscles that look like they could have been sculpted.
“Come on.” I lead him to the bed and, after shucking off my jeans, I climb in after him. “Come here, baby,” I say, pulling him into my arms. He lays his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him. Shane’s not the only one with someone to protect. If the shit hits the fan, I’ll hogtie Sam myself and send him to Kenilworth right along with Beth, whether he likes it or not.
Absently, I stroke Sam’s back, running my blunt nails along his spine. He shivers and groans, pressing his face into my chest.
He teases my nipple with the tip of his tongue, making it tighten. And when he licks the tight little point, the sharp pleasure draws a cry out of me. He comes up onto his elbow and leans over me to tongue circles around the peak before drawing it into his warm, wet mouth.
“Jesus, Sam!” I gasp, my back arching off the mattress.
“I want you to fuck me,” he says, shifting so he can kiss his way down the center of my torso. He skims his tongue down my abs, stopping to tease my belly button, then continues down to the thatch of hair at the base of my cock. He grips me firmly and licks his way up the shaft to the crown and over the tip.
I exhale a rough breath as heat and aching pleasure sweep through me. “Slow down, baby,” I gasp as he works me into a frenzy. “I’m already so close, and you’re nowhere near ready for me.”
Sam lunges up and opens the nightstand drawer, pulling out the bottle of lube, which he hands to me. “Make me ready. I want you.”
He rolls over onto his belly, wrapping his arms around his pillow and opening his legs.
“Are you sure?” I say. “We don’t have to—”
“Yes. Make me ready.”
I kneel between his open thighs and take my time lubing him up, stretching him slowly. I slide one slick finger into his body, relishing his groans as I make small teasing circles inside. When he’s ready, I add a second finger, gently opening him up and stretching those tight muscles. When my finger glides repeatedly over his prostate, he groans, pressing his face into the pillow to muffle the sound.
Impatient, Sam suddenly rises up onto his knees and presses me down onto my back. He grabs the lube and slicks up my cock. Then he throws his leg over my hips and hovers with his ass poised right above my erection. His expression is breathtaking as he reaches behind himself to position my cock at his opening.
I skim my hands over his thighs, murmuring encouragement as he sinks down on me, slowly working the head of my cock inside. When he starts to move, I run my hands up and down his chest, stopping to tease his nipples and piercings. I love watching him work himself on me, rising and falling on my shaft, his teeth gritted with a mixture of pleasure, tension, and a tiny bite of discomfort as he waits for his body to fully accommodate me.
“You okay?” I say, gripping his taut thighs.
He nods, breathless, now moving faster as his body gradually opens for me. He grips his own cock, stroking himself firmly as he watches my face. We’re both groaning now, both of us straining and close.
I sit up, wrapping one arm around him to hold him close to me. Then I turn us so that he’s lying on his back beneath me. His thighs open, cradling me as we lie missionary style.
He relaxes beneath me, and I sink deep with a satisfied groan. He answers my groans with his own, and soon we’re both breathing hard. I start to move, slowly at first. I withdraw and add more lube, just to be sure he’s comfortable. Then I feed myself back into him, all the way, and he exhales, forcing himself to relax as his body adjusts to being penetrated.
He pulls me down for a kiss, and I drink in his moans. I cup my hands around his head and gaze into his beautiful brown eyes, gauging his arousal. He slips his hand between us and pulls on his cock, stroking himself in time with my short, quick thrusts. I know when I’m brushing against his prostate because his eyes widen and his breaths shallow until he’s fairly panting.
With a loud cry, I rise up and arch my back, filling him with spurt after spurt of liquid heat. My thrusts turn slow and gentle as I lose myself in him. He tugs and strokes himself until he joins me, crying out as he comes in wild spurts on his stomach and chest. Once he’s finished, I pull out and sink down beside him, and we hold each other.
After a quick clean-up, I tuck him into bed with me, spooning behind him. I trail kisses along his shoulder and up his throat, feeling his pulse pounding beneath my lips. I smile, breathing in his intoxicating scent. “I love you.”
He cradles my arm tightly to his chest. “I love you, too,” he says, yawning.
* * *
The next morning, I leave sleeping beauty to his well-deserved rest and grab a quick shower before pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I head to the kitchen to start the coffee. The kids like using the Keurig machine and drinking their fussy caramel mocha lattes, but I’m old school. I like grinding my own beans and making coffee the old-fashioned way. It’s just about si
x a.m., so Shane should be coming out of their room any second now for his morning caffeine fix on his way out the door. He usually grabs breakfast at the café in the McIntyre Security building.
A half-hour later, when he hasn’t appeared, I glance down the hallway that leads to their suite and see the light on in his home office. I head down that way and quietly rap on the door.
“Come in,” he says.
I push the door open to find him seated at his desk, working on his laptop. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, sans tie, and his suit jacket is hanging on a hook on the wall behind his chair. “What are you still doing here?”
He leans back in his chair and motions me inside. “Have a seat. I have a proposition for you.”
I take one of the seats in front of his desk, leaning back and getting comfortable. “What did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking this morning that one of us should be here at all times, until Stevens is apprehended. I don’t want to leave Beth here without protection. She’ll be working here from home until further notice.”
“Sam will be here too, you know.”
“I know. But, technically, he’s not back to work yet.”
“He can still fire a gun.”
Shane nods. “I’m sure he can, but he’ll be concentrating on physical training. I’d feel better if one of us was here at all times. I imagine you have work to do this morning at the shooting range, so I’ll work from home for half a day while you take care of business at the range. Then you could come home for the afternoon.”
I nod. “That sounds good. I am a little backlogged at the range. I need to catch up on scheduling some assessments, and I can easily do that from home this afternoon.”
“Good. Why don’t we keep this schedule, working half days here at home, until this blows over.”
“That works. Hey, while I’ve got you, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
He looks surprised. “Of course. What is it?”
I scrub my hand over my beard, not sure exactly how to start this conversation. It feels awkward at my age to be asking these questions. “As you know, Sam wants me to act more like a boyfriend. The truth is, I’m not sure how to do that. I’ve never seriously dated anyone before Sam. It’s always been temporary hook-ups, you know, with no long-term expectations on either side. This is kinda new territory for me.”