by JS Scott
November 14, 1996
I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to write for a while now. I’m doing all the double shifts at the nursing home that I possibly can, plus my classes. I have to have enough money to pay for my next semester. Sam took me to his apartment to study tonight, and he actually seemed embarrassed because it was a studio apartment that wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood. I don’t know why he should be embarrassed. He works so hard. His construction job is hard physical labor and I know that he usually works from early morning until evening nearly seven days a week. He’s trying to get enough money to bring his mom and his younger brother here to Tampa to live. Sam talks mostly about the future, probably because his past hasn’t been so good. I can relate to that. I’d rather think about the future myself. I’ve only known Sam for a few months now, but he’s become the best friend I’ve ever had except for Crystal, and she’s been gone for so many years now. I feel a little silly that I ever had doubts about Sam. He’s a very good person, the best man I’ve ever known. And he’s so supportive about all of my goals. I just wish he’d get over calling me his “Sunshine” and pulling the rubber band out of my hair because he says it’s a shame to confine such beautiful hair. Is the guy blind? My hair is absolutely tragic!
December 12, 1996
Sam said something to me today that I thought was strange. He said his friendship with me made him want to be a better man. I’m not sure what that was all about and he just shrugged casually when I asked him what he meant. How much better could he be? He works his ass off, tries to help his family, and is working to better himself by getting an education. Does he think being rich makes a man good? If so, I wish he wouldn’t think that. Sam Hudson is fine just the way he is. He’s perfect. I just wish he didn’t have to work so hard.
January 10, 1997
Sam and I don’t have any of the same classes this semester, but there is rarely a day that goes by that I don’t speak to him. I don’t know if I could stand not talking to him or seeing his handsome face. He makes me laugh when I’m tired and crabby, and I try to keep a tube of muscle relief cream around for when his body has been pushed to the limit from working so many hours. He tries to uplift my spirits while I try to relieve his physical pain. I guess that’s what friendship is about. He stripped his t-shirt off today so I could put the cream on his back for him. Every time I do this, it gets more difficult to keep my hands from shaking, and I hate myself for it. Sam and I are friends. He gives me so much support and I’ve come to rely on his friendship. I’m a nursing assistant, for God’s sake. It isn’t like I’m not familiar with the human body. It’s just…Sam’s body. His skin is always blazing hot and his muscles are tense. Sometimes he groans a deep, masculine groan of relief from his back pain when I apply the cream, and I flood between my thighs and my nipples get hard. I start thinking about other things than just his back pain. I know I shouldn’t. But I do. I know most women have done “the deed” at my age, but I haven’t. I’ve never wanted to. Not until I met Sam. But he’s just a friend and I need to remind myself of that fact every single day, even though my heart and body want so much more.
February 14, 1997
It’s Valentine’s Day and something happened today, something extraordinary. Sam Hudson gave me a single red rose…and then he kissed me. It wasn’t the usual peck on the cheek he gives me as a friend. It was a real, hot, wet, toe-curling kiss that made my heart pound and my body burn for more. We both came out of the kiss panting. I’m sure I looked dazed and confused because that’s how I felt. Sam looked horrified. He cursed and started rambling about how he hadn’t meant to do that and how I deserved so much better. He said I should have dozens of roses instead of just one. I told him that one red rose was so much better than anything anyone could ever do for me because it came from him. I cried. I couldn’t help it. So he kissed me again…and again.
April 10, 1997
Sam and I have been a couple for two months now and he still won’t do “the deed” with me. I want to. I’ve told him that. My body responds to his every touch, every kiss. I love him so much it hurts, but I haven’t told him because he hasn’t said it either and I’m not sure he wants to hear it. He says I purr like a kitten when he touches me, kisses me. Sadly, I think I do, but it’s rather embarrassing. Not that I have a lot of experience, but I don’t think any man can kiss like Sam. He knows that I’m a virgin. I told him. He says he’s afraid to touch me sometimes because I’m too pure, too good. If only he knew the dreams I have about him. He wouldn’t think I was so very good at all. I love him so much and I want him to be my first. My only. I want to tell him that I love him, but I’m scared. What if he doesn’t feel the same way?
May 12, 1997
I’m alone again, as I’ve always been. Sam and I were supposed to meet for coffee yesterday and as I approached the coffee shop, I saw them in the alleyway. The woman was beautiful—tall, thin, and pretty—everything I never have been and never will be. Sam’s back was against the brick building and the woman was all over him, her hands in his hair, kissing my Sam like he belonged to her. His hands were on her breast and her butt, holding her model-thin body against his, grinding against her. I froze and stood there like a damn statue. I’m not sure how long I watched, my heart ready to pound out of my chest, unable to believe that it was really my Sam kissing that woman. But, oh my God, it was. When they came up for air, his eyes immediately met mine, the look on his face unmistakable. Guilt. Satisfaction. In that moment, my heart shattered into a million little pieces, and Sam knew it. He knew it and he didn’t even try to explain. I doubt anything will ever put it back together again. I had to run away, and Sam just let me go without a single word. Was I really that stupid, that naïve? Did I really think that Sam Hudson was doing anything other than playing a game with me? Nobody has ever wanted me. Not as a child, nor as an adolescent. And not as an adult either. Most likely, no one ever will. I’ll cry some more and then I’ll sleep, and try to forget what it felt like to be wanted for a short time. It was all just a lie.
Dr. Madeline Reynolds chewed on her thumbnail, a look of total concentration on her face, as she flipped the pages of a medical file on one of her five-year-old patients at the clinic. It was seven p.m., way past time for her to get home and try to get some rest, but something about the case was nagging at her. She had to be missing something, something important. Timmy was tired, listless, having occasional vomiting and diarrhea, and it had to be more than a virus. The poor tyke had been that way for months.
Sighing, she leaned back in the chair of her office in the clinic, grimacing as she bit a little too hard on her fingernail. She’d need to consult a pediatrician, run more tests. Sending up a silent prayer that Timmy’s mother would show up at her son’s next appointment, Maddie closed the file. The poor kid didn’t have an easy life, and his mother wasn’t exactly consistent.
“Hello, Madeline.”
A husky baritone sounded from the doorway of her office, causing her to leap to her feet, ready to push the alarm button on the side of her desk. The free clinic wasn’t in a good neighborhood and poor Kara had already come close to getting shot there while she was volunteering.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
A cold chill ran down Maddie’s spine, but not from fear. She recognized the voice. Eyes narrowing, she focused on the body and face behind that smooth-as-velvet masculine tone. “How did you get by Simon’s security? And what in the hell are you doing here?”
Her friend Kara was engaged to be married to Sam’s brother, Simon. Unfortunately, during the last year, that had forced her to be in close proximity to the man who had broken her heart so many years ago. Those meetings had been brief and incredibly tense. Luckily, she had managed to avoid any significant communication with him…until this moment.
Sam Hudson shrugged and stepped into the room as though he owned it. Even dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a burgundy ca
ble-knit sweater, the man oozed power and arrogance, carried it on those wide shoulders like an elegant mantle. “They’re my security, too, Sunshine. They work for Hudson. Do you think they would do anything other than let me by them with a polite good evening?”
Arrogant bastard. Maddie’s heart raced and her palms grew moist. Simon and Sam were both billionaires, co-owners of Hudson Corporation. So, it was Sam’s company, too, but she tried to ignore that fact as much as possible. She wiped her hands over her denim-clad thighs, wishing she hadn’t showered and changed in the tiny shower in the back of the clinic before coming into her office. Maybe it would have been easier to face Sam in her professional attire, her hair confined in a conservative knot. Trying to push a flaming corkscrew spiral behind one ear, she stiffened her spine, trying to make herself appear taller than her five-foot-three height. “What do you want, Sam? This is hardly your neighborhood. And I don’t think you need the services of a hooker?” Her voice was hard, brittle. Damn it. Why couldn’t she act nonchalant? So many years had come and gone since that heart-shattering event with Sam. He was a stranger to her now. Why couldn’t she treat him like one?
Moving closer, he answered darkly, “Would you care, Sunshine? Would it matter to you if I fucked every woman in the city?”
“Ha! Like you haven’t already? And stop calling me by that ridiculous pet name.” She answered sarcastically, but her heart was racing and her breath caught as he moved close enough for her to catch a whiff of his enticing smell of musk and man, a spicy aroma that made her slightly dizzy. His scent hadn’t changed, and it was still as tempting as it had been all those years ago.
“Why are you still here? My security alerted me that you were here after dark. You should be home. This neighborhood isn’t safe during the day, much less at night,” he growled softly.
“Simon’s security.” Somehow, she couldn’t associate the two men, even if they were brothers. Simon was nice and had a heart of gold underneath his gruff exterior. Sam was the devil himself, Satan disguised as a GQ model with more money and power than any man had the right to have. Especially a man like Samuel Hudson.
“What if some thug got through security, found you here alone and vulnerable?” He moved closer, so close she could feel his warm breath caressing her temple.
God, he was so tall, so broad and muscular. Sam had worked construction when she had known him years ago, hard physical labor that had given him a sculpted, perfect body. Strangely, it hadn’t changed one single bit. How in the hell did a man maintain that awesome body sitting behind a desk? Backing away from his intimidating presence, her ass bumped against the desk, leaving her no space to move farther away.
“A man could take advantage of a woman alone in an empty office,” he continued, his voice low, dangerous.
Maddie pushed against Sam’s chest, trying to get free of her wedged-in position between him and the desk. “Move. Back off, Hudson, before I’m forced to send your balls into your throat.”
His muscular thigh moved over hers, annihilating the possibility of being kneed in the groin. “I taught you that move, remember? And never tell your attacker your intentions, Madeline.”
She craned her neck and looked at him, his emerald green eyes watching her carefully. Just as it had years ago, his handsome face took her breath away. He’d always reminded her of some ancient blond god, so damn perfect that his body and features should be carved in marble. However, at the moment, he might be as hard as marble, but he was far from cold. Heat emanated from his body in waves, his eyes just as fiery and molten. “Go fuck yourself, Hudson.”
Sam’s lips turned up, twitching precariously like he was trying not to grin. His hands splayed over her back, pulling her body completely into his as he whispered into her ear, “I’d rather fuck you, Sunshine. Much more satisfying. You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even more beautiful than you were years ago.”
Liar. He’s such a damn liar. If I had been so desirable he wouldn’t have done what he did. “Let go and get the hell out of my office.” The bastard was playing her, and it was intolerable. She wasn’t beautiful and she was nothing like the twiggy blonde models who he sported on his arm and took to his bed.
“Kiss me first. Prove to me that there isn’t something left unfinished between us,” Sam answered, his dark green eyes lit with sparks of fire, his voice hard and demanding.
“The only thing left unfinished is the fact that you never even said you were sorry for what you did. You didn’t give a damn. You didn’t—”
Maddie never got a chance to finish. Sam’s hot, hard mouth smothered her bitter words, never asking, simply demanding her response. His large, agile hands moved down her back, grasping her ass and lifting her to a sitting position on the desk, making it easier for him to devour her mouth.
Sam never just kissed: he branded, he claimed. Maddie moaned into his mouth as his tongue thrust and retreated, thrust and retreated, until she was breathless. Surrendering, her arms wound around his neck, her hands fisting his silken wavy locks of hair, savoring the fall of softness over her fingertips.
Wrapping her legs around his hips, needing to somehow find an anchor to keep her from drifting away in a tidal wave of lust, she allowed her tongue to duel with his, feeling his arousal against her heated core. Her hips surged against his erection with every hard thrust of his tongue.
Sam groaned, his hands delving under her sweatshirt, his fingertips stroking over the bare skin of her back, making her shiver with longing.
Maddie was drowning, lost in a sea of desire and need, slowly being pulled under the surface by a force stronger than her will.
I have to stop. This has to end before I’m completely lost.
Yanking her head back, her mouth disconnected from Sam’s, leaving her panting for oxygen and completely shaken. Sam pulled her head forward to rest against his heaving chest.
“Shit. Maddie. Maddie,” he choked out, one hand spearing into her curls, stroking her hair reverently.
Oh, God. No. She couldn’t be sucked in by Sam Hudson again. Not in any way. She shoved hard against his chest, twisting away and lowering her legs until her feet hit the floor. “Get off me.”
Fury built to a raging inferno inside her. How dare he use her, play with her because he was bored and she was the only available female in the building? Sam Hudson was a playboy, a man who took women to his bed and discarded them, finding another plaything soon after he was done with the last one. He was rarely seen with the same woman more than once. Did the man have a conscience? Did he care about no one but himself?
Maddie wanted to curl up into a little ball to protect herself, shamed by the way she had responded to Sam even though he was a complete dog. What kind of a person did that make her?
She shrugged away from him, turning her back to sprint for the door.
“Maddie. Wait.” Sam’s voice was husky, pleading yet demanding.
He grasped her arm, swinging her to face him before she was able to get to the door. Maddie turned to face him, her fury and fear battling for dominance. “Don’t touch me again. Ever. I’m not the stupid, naïve woman you once knew. I trusted you once, and I forgave myself because I was young. I won’t do it again. I don’t have the excuse of youth to even justify being that stupid.”
“You still want me,” Sam answered vehemently, his eyes raking over her body, settling on her face.
Looking him straight in the eye, she answered angrily, “No, I don’t. My body might respond to a gorgeous man, but it’s just physiological, a sexual reaction. You,” she poked a hand to his chest as she spat out, “mean absolutely nothing to me anymore.”
“You want me to fuck you until you scream. I can still make you purr, Kitten,” he told her arrogantly, a satisfied smirk on his face.
She shrugged, trying to force down her violent desire to slap the conceited look from his handsome face. “I wouldn
’t know. You’ve never fucked me. And you never will.”
Wrenching her arm from his hold, Maddie stormed through the office door, scooping her jacket from the hook by the reception desk and bolting through the lobby and out the front door of the clinic. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. One of Hudson’s security officers escorted her to her car and she drove away as if she were a convicted criminal with the law on her tail, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from Sam as she could possibly get.
Maddie drove in a daze, two words playing through her hazy brain like a broken record.
Never again.
Never again.
Sam Hudson walked slowly through the reception area of the clinic, lost in his own thoughts. What the hell had just happened? He’d stopped to see if Maddie was okay, concerned that she was still at the clinic so late—a quick stop to make sure all was well because he knew she was here alone. Damn. Could he ever see the woman and not want to possess her, make her want him as much as he wanted her?
You’ve never gotten over her. You probably never will. She’s haunted you for years. She got under your skin like a sliver of wood that’s always a little bit raw and irritated, never working its way out again.
Stepping outside, Sam closed the door behind him. He glanced at one of his security officers. “Can you lock up?”