It may seem like this huge mystery as to why Sam ended our relationship and never spoke to me again, but that is because it is a mystery, to me. But I hope to learn a lot more about that by reconnecting with her again. However, I meant every word I said to her yesterday. Seeing her again has reignited something inside of me, something that was snuffed out a long time ago. I need Sam in my life; she brings color to an otherwise black and white world. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy or depressed, I’ve got a successful career, a thriving club, and I’m never short on options for female companionship. The thing is, I never realized how much I was settling until I saw Sam again.
She is more radiant, more magnificent than she ever was. When I first met her, Samantha Richards took my breath away. Yesterday, seeing her in my house in painted on jeans and a tight tee, she was an instant f**king hard on wrapped up in fabric.
Now I’m in a town car headed toward her apartment. All of a sudden, my stomach tightens and for the first time in years I feel nervous as I walk up the few steps to her door.
She opens the door just as I reach the top step and I’m frozen on the spot as I take her in. Her sun-colored hair is tied back in a high ponytail, and I swear that her flawless face is more beautiful than yesterday. My heart stutters as my gaze moves down her body which is covered in a simple yet elegant red dress. Her matching red heels make her silky smooth legs look impossibly long, which just leads my heated stare back over the curve of her hips and the swell of her br**sts before meeting her eyes again. Then I see the impish gleam in her eye and it becomes glaringly obvious that she’s succeeded in her desire in driving me to distraction. All of it just reaffirms to me the fact I want Sam back in my life.
“You look gorgeous.’ My gravelly voice resonates between us as I try to recover my scattered thoughts. She unravels me and she doesn’t even realize.
Looking to the ground, she blushes, obviously uncomfortable with my compliment. It makes me wonder what kind of men she’s had in her life since me. I was taught by my grandfather that a man worth anything at all will tell a woman how much he adores her, showing her with his actions that he’s the luckiest son of a bitch on earth to be with her.
And right now, I want to be that son of a bitch.
“Your carriage awaits.” She looks up and past my shoulder at the car idling at the curb.
“Oh, right … just let me lock up.” I smirk, loving that she’s off balance again. “What can I say? Once a cop, always a cop.”
“It suits you, you know. It makes sense. I always wondered what you pursued after college.”
She turns and hurriedly locks the door, spinning back around to face me. I need to touch her again. The fleeting moment between us yesterday was not enough. All night, instead of focusing on my upcoming case, I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her. I dreamed of touching her, exploring every inch of her skin, tasting her …
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and I realize she’s taken a step toward me. “You were a million miles away.”
“Sorry. You’ve kind of thrown me for a loop.” I lean forward, placing my hands on her bare shoulders and slowly stroking down her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Our eyes stay locked as I move back to cup her shoulders and I clear my throat, trying to strengthen my resolve to get answers from her. “We should go before I make a whole new set of plans, and none of them involve dinner.”
“Yes, let’s go,” she replies quickly. I take her hand and give her a light reassuring squeeze before I lead her down into the car.
Once the car is on its way, she pulls her hand away and inconspicuously places it back in her lap.
I see her shoulders straighten as she turns toward me. “So, where are we going? You were rather mysterious on the phone.”
“Well, I remember a long time ago we talked about traveling, and you always said you wanted to travel around Africa.” I raise my brow, waiting for her affirmation. She nods and a sly smile graces her lips. “That’s why we’re heading to a great Ethiopian restaurant one of the partners recommended.”
“Oh, wow, if it’s the one I’m thinking of, I’ve wanted to go there forever.” I grin at the emergence of goofy Sam. Her true nature, the one I suspect she endeavors to hide away from most people, is one of her most endearing qualities. She was always one of the most ‘real’ people I knew. There were no pretenses and no falsities; what you see is what you get with Sam.
One of the biggest issues in our relationship was Sam’s submissive side; a wrongly perceived weakness that was preyed upon by someone who should have known better than to meddle in other people’s lives.
And tonight, I plan on finding out exactly why that happened.
Sam
My body is on fire. Ever since he picked me up, I’ve felt off balance. And now he’s being all thoughtful and even remembered that I want to travel around Africa. I mean, I haven’t seen him for ten years since we broke up, and it wasn’t exactly a nice break up either. It was a clean break, with no warning, and I had really shit timing too. To be honest, I’m wondering why he even wants anything to do with me. Does time heal all wounds?
His touch on my skin simply stoked the fire that has grown from a deep buried ember. I still know that there are huge fundamental differences between Sean and I. He is a dominant, he likes to control and manipulate women. I’m a woman that does not want to be controlled. See, insurmountable differences that I’m unsure a simple dinner can erase. But then there is the other part of me that relishes in his dominance. The way he takes control of a situation, like paying Ryan’s rent and making sure that he’s safe despite vowing to never bail out his brother again. Or turning up on my doorstep and telling me that I deserve a man who showers me with compliments and acts like a man who deserves to be with me.
Major swoon factor there.
Now we’re walking hand in hand (again) into one of the city’s top restaurants. So not where I thought I’d be two days ago.
The maître d’ shows us to a corner table near the back and Sean pulls out a chair facing away from the door. It goes against all my trained instincts, but I push them aside and sit down, unable to hold back the shiver that wracks my body when his hands graze my side, stopping just below my br**sts.
Once Sean takes his seat opposite, the maître d’ lights a single red candle sitting in the middle of the table. “Your waiter for the evening will see you shortly. Have a great night.”