by Rye Hart
“I’m not fucking opening them because it’s none of my damn business. If Sam doesn’t care to know, then it’s not my damn business to know. I’ve had weeks to think about this shit. She needs to do what she needs to do to make herself feel better. Fuck any of us and what we might want,” I said as I tucked the envelope into my jacket pocket.
I stormed out of Liam’s office and headed straight for my car. My ass was going to Los Angeles today. I slammed the envelope down onto the passenger’s seat and revved the engine, speeding out of the parking space. This is what Sam wanted, and I had to respect that. We all did.
I knew what this would bring. I knew what my brothers were afraid of. They were scared that if she signed these papers, she’d be done with us for good. She wouldn’t trust us anymore, despite what went on between us. I was petrified of losing Sam. She was the only girl I’d had eyes on for years. Logan could fucking throw my sex life in my face all he wanted, but it was all because of her.
I didn’t want anyone else but Sam. But more than that, I wanted her to be happy. Even if that meant giving her up.
I drove from Bakersfield to Los Angeles at eighty miles an hour, not once letting up. I pulled out my phone and called Sam, leaving her a message to meet me at a local hotel. I checked myself into a room and sent her a message with the room number, then I set the envelope on the desk in the corner and waited. For all I knew, she was deleting shit the second she got it. Not listening to a damn thing we had to say on her voicemail.
So I was surprised when she showed up.
“Sam.”
“I’m here,” she said.
“Come on in.”
I ushered her into the room and closed the door behind her.
“What’s so important?” Sam asked.
“First, I want to start by apologizing,” I said.
“For what?”
“For everything that went down with all of us. And this situation you’re in. But why did you leave, Sam? Of all the places for you to fucking go, why the hell did you come back here?”
I watched tears well in her eyes, and it caught me off guard. I’d never known Sam to be this openly emotional, and worry pooled in my gut.
“I’m embarrassed,” she said.
“About what?” I asked.
“Seriously? You’re seriously wondering?”
“Yes. I am. Because what happened between all of us that night was great. And hot. And passionate.”
“And whorish!” she exclaimed.
“No, Sam. Never. Not with us. You could never be that with us.”
“Yes, I can. And I am. None of this should've ever taken place. I never should’ve drunk that much, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about all of it.”
“Sam, look at me.”
“I can’t,” she said breathlessly. “I can’t look at you Levi.”
“Please.”
Sam started trembling, and I couldn’t stand there any longer. I stepped closer to her, reaching my arms out for her. I grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward me, then gently lifted her face with my fingers. I caught her tears on the tips of my fingers as I gazed into her eyes, getting trapped in her beautiful blue stare. There were no other words. Nothing I could say that would make her feel any less shameful for what she did. And I got it. I understood it. One woman fucking four men wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence. But it was her, and it was us, and we loved her. She was not just a sex object to us. She was a treasure.
“Sam,” I said.
“What?” she asked whispering.
I was drawn to her. Magnetized by her breaths. I leaned my lips into hers, drawing her face closer to mine. My fingers crackled against her skin. Colors burst behind my eyes when our lips connected. I slid my tongue across her salty lips, and she parted them automatically, her head tilting off to the side. Fuck. I couldn't believe it. I felt her pressing into me. Her hands curled into my shirt, her arms drawing me closer.
My body lit up with the fire coursing through my blood.
I tore off her clothes as I backed her toward the bed. My mouth was everywhere. Her cheeks. Her eyes. Kissing away her tears and raking my teeth along her bare shoulder. We toppled to the bed, and I slid down her body, suckling her nipples and dancing my hands down her curves. I yanked her pants off, nuzzling my nose into that sweet little pussy.
Her panties were damp, and I groaned at the smell of her.
I pushed my pants down my ass and grabbed my cock. My tongue licked up her slit as her hands twisted into my hair. She tasted divine. Salty and sweet, like her beautiful personality. She rode my face, ground down onto my lips. I felt her clit swelling against my ministrations as her thighs clamped around my face. I gripped my cock, stroking it and lubing it up with drops of precum. I felt her trembling. Shaking.
She was so wet for me.
I couldn't wait to bury myself inside of her again.
I pulled her closer. I drew in a deep breath and held it, sliding my tongue deep inside her. Her back arched, and her tits jumped, and she writhed underneath me, letting out choked sounds and muffled moans as she came around my tongue.
“Levi. Fuck. Your tongue. It’s so—it’s perfect.”
She pulled me up from between her legs and rolled us over until she was on top. She pressed her lips against mine, our tongues colliding as I fisted her hair. I shivered as she kissed her way down my body until her face was only inches from my cock. She dipped her head and licked up the inside of my thigh, causing my dick to jump.
She giggled against my cock, and I groaned at the sensation.
I leaned up and watched her. I stroked her beautiful blonde hair as her blue eyes connected with mine. Her mouth took me in, sucked me all the way back to her throat. Holy shit. Those pillowy lips sliding up and down my veiny cock was almost more than I could handle. She was nothing short of perfect.
“Sam,” I said with a groan. “Fuck.”
I guided her lips up and down my shaft, her gaze never leaving mine. My balls grew heavy with want, ready to release down her throat. I snapped my hips against her lips, my grip on her hair tightening. Her nails curled into my thighs, and I felt myself teetering on the edge.
But I wasn’t ready to be done.
Pulling her from my cock, I tossed her onto the bed and rolled on top of her. I threw her legs over my shoulders and slid myself effortlessly into her pussy. She cried out, her hands curling into the sheets as I fucked her senseless. Her head hung off the bed. Her toes curled against my ears. My tongue darted out to taste more of her on my lips before she rolled, pinning me underneath her decadent curves again.
A grin spread across her cheeks, and my heart stopped. A smile. Holy fuck, Sam was smiling. She wanted this. Truly wanted this. Her hands planted into my chest, and she bounced on my cock. I grabbed her hips and pulled her tightly against me, thrusting my cock as far into her as I could go.
“Levi,” she said with a moan. “Oh yes.”
I wrapped my arms around her and stood up from the bed and pushed her into a wall. I hooked my arm underneath her leg and pinned it against her chest, opening that tight little pussy up for me to see. I looked down at our connection. At her arousal slicking my cock. Her hands wrapped into my hair and brought me to her tits, my face pressed into her beautiful peaks and valleys.
I kissed and nibbled. Sucked and bit. Left marks behind she could revel in come morning, so she could remember me.
Remember how good this felt before she chastised herself anymore for it.
“Fucking hell, Sam. You feel so good. So perfect. So tight. Shit, and you’re dripping.”
“You do this to me,” she said breathlessly. “You’ve always done this to me.”
Her words were hot, and I felt her pussy vibrating. Pulsing. Ready to explode. I slammed into her. Snapped my hips against hers and watched as my sweat dripped onto her skin. She whimpered and arched to take me deeper and I happily obliged, burying myself to the hilt within her I pinned her into the wall, felt her shake agai
nst me as her pussy milked me for all I had. I gritted my teeth, staving off my want to release one last time.
“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming,” Sam said.
And holy shit, it felt amazing.
I fell back onto the bed before I rolled her over. She spread her legs, and my hands found hers. Our fingers intertwined, and I pinned them above her head, opening her entire body to me. I kissed her lips, sinking deeply into her as she trembled against me.
I rolled my hips. Slowly. Reverently. Basking in her gorgeous stare and her flushed skin and her puckered lips. She was beautiful. Sam was breathtaking. My heart ached in my chest, and my legs pulled taut. I snapped against her, watching her luscious tits bounce. Her fingers slipped from my grasp, and she raked them up my back. Clung to me as we rocked together, squeaking the hotel bed on its frame.
“Levi. Yes. Please don’t stop. You feel amazing.”
I peppered her neck with kisses as I ground into her. I captured her lips. Swallowed her moans as she lifted her hips to meet mine. Her nails raked down my skin, pulling a growl from my throat.
We fell over together, her pussy milking my cock as I painted her walls with my cum.
“Sam. Shit. Holy fuck.”
“I’m coming again,” she cried out.
I held her against me. Pulled her against me as I rolled off to the side. We were still shaking, still jumping with the white-hot ecstasy pouring through our veins. I couldn’t let her go. I didn't want to. I was scared of what would happen if I did. The moment was perfect. Sam was mine. All mine.
Like it should’ve always been.
Suddenly, I felt Sam jerk in my arms.
“Sam, no,” I said.
“Oh shit.”
“No, Sam. Listen. This isn’t wrong.”
She pulled away from me, and my cock quickly slid from between her thighs.
“I can’t do this,” she said breathlessly.
“Sam!”
I reached out for her arm, but she slid from my grasp. She yanked her clothes back on and shook her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“Sam, come on. Don’t fucking do this. Please?” I asked.
“Lauren. If Lauren finds out—”
Her hand fell to the doorknob, and she looked back at me with tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But none of this should have happened.”
Then she ran out the door, leaving me behind again.
I laid in bed all fucking afternoon kicking myself in the ass. Fuck! Of course, that would be the issue. Lauren was her best damn friend, and she’d tear Sam in two if she caught wind of what was going on. But that was bullshit. I cared about Sam. A lot. What the fuck was so wrong with that?
Either way, I wasn’t about to stay in some grimy Los Angeles hotel for the night. By myself. Smelling like Sam.
I put my clothes on and grabbed the divorce papers. I climbed into my car and drove to Sam’s parents’ house. I was relieved to see Sam’s car in the driveway.
I kept the car running and ran up to the porch. I set the folder of papers down on the ground and rang the doorbell, then took off toward my car. I quickly backed out of the driveway and sped down the road, making sure Sam hadn’t seen me as I looked back in the rearview mirror.
I saw her step out onto to the porch right before I turned the corner.
CHAPTER 12
SAM
I’d been staring at the envelope that held the damn divorce papers for a couple of days. And now that they were there in front of me, I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to do it. I had no idea who I’d married in Vegas, and that irked me. I was in control of everything in my life. It was paramount that I had it. I craved it, after the way I was raised. I had a plan for my life. A plan I’d enacted after my parents had practically disowned me.
And none of this was in the plan.
Growing up with my parents was hard. They were strong-willed and expected their daughter to walk a certain path. But when I gave up their expectations of me and went to school for fashion design and journalism, they cut me off. No money. No support. Nothing. I took out my own student loans, signed away my life and committed to years of monthly payments to do what I wanted. To reach the dream I’d had ever since I was a teenager.
To build and design my own fashion brand.
I had it all figured out. I graduated early, at twenty-one years old. I took summer classes and winter classes, never once stopping to take a break. I took a job with the fashion magazine I wrote for to start paying down my student loans, take care of myself, and save up for the money it would take to start my own line of clothing someday. I wouldn’t start dating until twenty-five, and by thirty I would be ready to put pencil to paper for the designs I sketched at three in the morning when I couldn't sleep.
That was the plan.
And Vegas had obliterated that plan.
I reached for the manila envelope and sat on the edge of the guest bed. That was what my room became when I went off to college and never looked back. A guest bedroom. Something strangers slept in. I drew in a deep breath and slid the papers out, but the second I saw “divorce decree” at the top, I stopped.
These papers would effectively end my marriage to one of the men I’d been in love with for years.
I set the papers down and closed my eyes. I allowed my mind to fall back to a time when things were easier. I remembered the first time I saw Liam. He was ripping weeds out of his mother’s flowerbeds, sweat dripping down his forehead. His hair had been soaked and droplets fell from his unshaven chin. Even in his early twenties, his muscles were thick. I could still remember the way they jumped with every pull he took.
Just like they had when he’d been fucking me in Vegas. And Luke. Quiet, beautiful Luke, with his sparkling green eyes and his quiet demeanor. I loved spending time with him. Whenever my parents did let me go next door to Lauren’s to hang out, he would always be there, reading a book or helping his brothers with their math homework. And when he’d look up at me and smile, my knees would quake. My bones would evaporate, and the entire world would stop.
Like it did when I straddled his lap in Vegas.
And Logan. The jokester. The one with the neatly-trimmed goatee. He always made me laugh. Lauren and I would sneak out and walk the neighborhood at night, and he would come along with us. Make us laugh and fight off the neighborhood dogs that got out of their fences during the night. He was always fighting with Liam about something, but watching Logan get angry was entrancing. His muscles would pulse, and the veins in his forearms would stand out.
Like they did when I was sucking his cock in Vegas.
Then, there was Levi. Crass, foul-mouthed, and every inch the bad boy people assumed he was. Clean-shaven, a serial dater, and the most passionate person I’d ever known. He knew what he wanted, and he never stopped until he got it. And his heat was magnetizing.
Like it had been in Vegas.
I shivered at the thought of every one of them, and my heart began to pound against my chest. If I slid those papers out, I wouldn’t simply know who I was married to. I’d know who I was divorcing. And that thought was painful. Getting married like this was not the plan, but neither was divorce. Lauren and I watched so many friends of ours in high school go through the rocky situations of homes splitting up and parents using their children against the other. I promised myself that when I got married, if ever, it would be right the first time.
And now, I was about to break that promise that I had made to myself so long ago. I was no longer sure what the right thing to do was.
“Sam!”
I cringed at the sound of my mother’s voice.
“Yes?”
“Come down to the living room please.”
I pushed myself off the guest bed and walked down the hallway.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you come down here and talk to your father and I for a second?” she asked.
“Are you still going to hammer me about the package I got?” I asked.
“Stop talking at me down the stairs. Come down here and have a civil conversation. We didn’t raise you to scream through the house like that.”
I sighed and walked down the stairs before I followed my mother into the kitchen.
“Samantha, we need to talk,” my father said.
“What is it?” I asked.
“What’s going on?” my father asked. “You haven’t been home in a long time and then all of a sudden showed up on our doorstep. Something must be going on. I’d like to know what it is.”
“Nothing. I needed some time away from my normal routine to think about a few things,” I said.
My mother scoffed. “You mean you needed time away from galavanting across the globe taking pictures and writing articles about half-naked people prancing down a runway?”
I bit my tongue. “Yeah, something like that,” I said.
“I can tell by the look in your eye that something isn’t right,” my father said. “Are you in some sort of trouble. Do you need money?”
I put my elbows on the table and rested my head in my hands.
“I’m tired. That’s all,” I said.
“Don’t come into this house and lie to us,” my mother said.
“Yes, Samantha, there is clearly something wrong and not telling us isn’t going to get it solved any quicker,” my father said.
“Dad, you don’t have to shrink me,” I said.
“I’m not ‘shrinking’ you, as you so wonderfully put it,” he said. “But we both know there’s something wrong, and we’re worried about you.”
“No. You’re waiting for me to tell you that you were right. That my plan for my life didn’t pan out and now I’ve come crawling back to tell you that I should have listened to you all along and I need you to bail me out of the mess I’ve gotten myself into. Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not the case at all,” I said.
“Now Samantha, we never wanted you to fail,” my father started.
“Are you sure about that?” I asked. “Look, I needed a place to stay for a few days until things blow over with Lauren. She’s getting married soon, and her bridezilla is coming out a bit.”