Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lacey bounced when Sam dropped her on the bed. She laughed, still giddy from her kitchen counter orgasm. It had been a long time since anyone had taken the time or effort to go down on her properly, and Sam’s obvious enthusiasm for the task made it even more delicious.
“Take off your pants,” she commanded, propping herself up on her elbows to watch.
He’d undone his pants in the kitchen, and now she could see what a mess she’d made of him. The dark wet spot by the head of his jutting cock was incredibly satisfying. She’d done that. She’d made him so hard that his cock wept. When Sam pushed off his pants and underwear in one go, his erection bounced like a spring, head glistening. Lacey licked her lips.
A blur of white and creamy gold fur catapulted onto the bed next to her, and Lacey shrieked.
“Daisy! No!”
Daisy crouched, rump high in the air, tail wagging furiously, and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, ready to play.
“Daisy, no,” Sam chastised, hooking his fingers under her collar and guiding her off the bed. “It’s not playtime for you.”
He waddled like a penguin for several steps before pausing to kick off his pants that were still around his ankles. Lacey admired his ass, which was surprisingly free of any tattoos.
“Let’s find you a nice, cozy, English murder in the countryside, hmm?” he said in a singsong voice, leading Daisy out of the room quickly. He looked over his shoulder as they exited and said firmly to Lacey, “Stay.”
Lacey let her knees drop apart, and she winked. Sam looked up at the ceiling, like he was thanking whatever higher power was up there, and then disappeared down the hall.
Once the jingle of Daisy’s tags had faded, Lacey sprang into action, scrambling to undress. If she’d known Sam was going to pick today to try and fuck her, she’d have prepared better. Cute underwear. Makeup. An expensive but visually satisfying Brazilian wax. The shower she’d taken yesterday hadn’t been an everything shower, it had been a most things shower. Legs and pits got shaved. She’d assumed she was safe to leave her pussy for a bit longer. The hair was sparse, but she preferred it smooth. Too late now.
She ran to the bathroom to brush her teeth because she couldn’t remember if she had and was startled by her appearance in the mirror. Her messy bun was more messy than bun, and there was smudged mascara she hadn’t quite managed to wash off last night under each eye. Did Sam need glasses? Or was he so desperate to fuck something that his standards had slipped to whatever low level she was occupying?
Lacey wiped away the leftover mascara and attacked her hair with a brush. Presentable and fuckable was attainable before Sam got back from distracting their dog with her murder shows. She grabbed her toothbrush—a nice electric one she couldn’t afford but had magically appeared next to Sam’s one night—and squeezed toothpaste on it, then bounced from one foot to the other while she brushed her teeth. There were little beeps when she was supposed to switch to a new section of her mouth, but Lacey always got bored and moved on before the beep. She’d never made it to the automatic shutoff feature at the end.
Spit. Rinse. Rinse out the sink.
As she turned off the water, a hand closed around her throat and Sam drew her back against his body, his cock pressing insistently against her ass.
“I thought I told you to stay put,” he growled in her ear, all bark and no bite. The play still sent pleasant shivers down her spine and made her pussy throb.
“I’m not very good at following directions,” Lacey said innocently, grinding her ass against him. Sam’s breath caught and his eyes fluttered before he could steel his expression again.
She liked how they looked together in the mirror. Sam’s dark hair contrasting with her blonde, his inked skin compared to her blank. The letters on his knuckles—AWRY—looked almost sinister against her throat.
“Can I take over?” he asked, his mask of dominance betrayed by his thumb stroking her pulse tenderly.
“Yes, please,” Lacey breathed, eager to relinquish the baton of control. “Red light, green light?”
Sam nodded. “Just red and green work too, sunshine.”
If his hand hadn’t been around her neck, she’d be a puddle on the floor. How the hell did he manage to make her feel so safe and cherished? It was a good thing she wasn’t his real girlfriend. She probably wouldn’t survive the experience.
“Since you can’t follow directions”—he nipped her earlobe—“I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“You’re such a brat.”
Lacey grinned. “And you love it.”
She thought Sam rolled his eyes right before he forced her to bend over the bathroom counter.
“Hands on the counter. That’s a good girl.” He rubbed the spot between her shoulder blades. “You’re going to get your ass smacked, and you’re going to count them. Understood?”
Lacey wiggled her ass. “Yes, Daddy—oh!”
The first two smacks were delivered consecutively, one right on top of the other. They stung so good her toes and fingers curled.
“You’re supposed to count,” Sam reminded her. “We’re going to start over.”
“I wasn’t read–y,” she protested, her voice catching on the last syllable because he’d delivered another smack to her other ass cheek.
“Stop making excuses. Start again.”
Smack .
“One.”
Smack .
“Two.”
Sam bent over and kissed her shoulder. “That’s better. Keep counting.”
Lacey sank into the feeling of Sam’s palm connecting with her flesh, embracing the sting and the warmth. She counted each hit, and every few smacks Sam would praise her with words and small kisses. The pleasant aura of her earlier orgasm seemed to return and she relished in the floating feeling.
Smack .
“Ten,” she moaned, her eyes falling closed. They snapped back open when Sam’s fingers began to rub her clit. She rocketed up onto her toes. It was like he’d touched her with a live wire. “Oh my god.”
“You’re so fucking wet,” he commented, his fingers sliding easily from her clit into her pussy. It was true; she was drenched. A shower would be required after this. Or at least a damp washcloth.
A witty retort died on Lacey’s tongue as Sam worked some kind of black magic with his fingers. Another intense orgasm built like an oncoming storm, and she braced for it.
Sam withdrew his fingers and she whimpered.
“What the fuck?” she complained, looking over her shoulder to glare at him.
Sam was unperturbed. “You need to clean up the mess you made first.”
She frowned. “What mess?”
Sam pressed his erection into the cleft of her ass.
Right. That mess.
“Go wait by the bed,” he instructed. “On your knees.”
Lacey hurried to obey. She arranged herself on her knees by the bed, tender ass resting gently on her heels. In the bathroom, the sink turned on, ran for a little bit, then turned off. When Sam came out, his hairline was a little damp.
“Good girl,” he said, and Lacey preened, sticking her chest out triumphantly.
Sam moved with the grace and authority of a jungle cat on the prowl. He made his way across the room to stand in front of her, one hand lazily stroking his cock.
“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out.”
She did, and Sam tapped the head of his cock against her outstretched tongue.
“Suck.”
Lacey eagerly took him into her mouth. This was something she’d thought about a lot since their date to the movie theater, especially when she got a chance to touch herself. She sucked with enthusiasm, bobbing up and down his shaft. Sam gathered her hair into his hand and wrapped it around his fist. After she gave him a tiny consenting nod, he used his grip to guide her, forcing her to her limit with every push of her head and thrust of his hips.
Sam pulled out with a pop . “Fucking hell…I’m going to need a minute.” He released her hair, then combed it with his fingers. “You did too good, sunshine.”
Lacey smiled even though she needed to catch her breath. “What show did you put on for Daisy?”
“ Midsomer ,” he said and sat down on the bed. “Wanted to make sure we had lots of time.”
“Got plans for me?” she asked, rising from her knees to straddle him, careful not to impale herself on his cock, no matter how tempting.
“ Midsomer might not be long enough.” Sam kissed her, and when his tongue slipped into her mouth, Lacey could taste traces of herself. Their hands explored the less scandalous parts of each other’s bodies, like their shoulders and backs, a tender respite in the middle of the intensity.
Sam eased Lacey onto her back, her legs locked tightly around his waist, like she was afraid if she gave him the chance he’d change his mind and run away.
“I can’t decide what to do with you first,” he admitted.
“Fuck me?” she suggested.
He patted her thigh. “Let go so I can get a condom.”
Reluctantly Lacey released him, and Sam stretched across the bed to reach into the nightstand. There were a handful of condoms in there, and she wondered when he’d stocked them because they hadn’t been there when he’d gone to New York. She’d snooped.
Sam put the condom on with practiced ease and speed.
“How do you want me?” she asked.
“On top. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
Sam settled on his back, and then Lacey straddled his hips. “Like this?”
“Perfect,” he said, his eyes roaming her body. “You’re fucking perfect.”
A flush raced across her body, settling in her chest and face. She didn’t feel perfect. But the way Sam was looking at her, she almost believed him.
The head of his cock nudged at the entrance to her pussy and Lacey slipped him inside easily. He filled her, touching places that made pleasure ricochet through her body, and they moaned in unison.
“That’s my girl,” Sam praised as she found a rhythm that felt so good she never wanted it to end. “Ride that cock like a good girl. Make us both come.”
She was too close, too primed, because as soon as Sam’s thumb found her clit, it took less than a minute for her walls to clamp tightly around his cock and her muscles to contract almost painfully. Her orgasm wasn’t gentle. She screamed and shuddered, and when she thought she couldn’t go on anymore, Sam fucked her from below so hard her brain rattled.
“Oh my god!” she shouted, and bit his shoulder to muffle the accompanying scream.
That sent Sam over the edge too. With a muffled curse and a grunt, he shuddered, his cock pulsing deep inside her.
They lay like that for a while, Lacey’s face buried in his neck, and Sam’s arms loosely wrapped around her, trying to catch their breath.
“Sorry it was kind of quick,” Sam finally said. “It’s been a while for me.”
Lacey was too high on her own brain chemicals not to laugh. When she caught her breath again, she said, “Efficient. The word you were looking for was efficient.”
“This is a really good grilled cheese,” Lacey said, torn between taking small bites to savor the sandwich or inhaling it.
“I think you’re still dazed from your afterglow,” Sam responded, wiping out the pan he’d used.
After they’d cleaned themselves up, Sam had wrapped Lacey in his luxurious robe and steered her toward the kitchen to make her the promised grilled cheese.
“This is the best post-coital experience of my life. Five-star service.”
“I aim to please,” he said, opening the fridge to look for something.
“The uniform really puts it over the top,” she continued, grinning. She’d gotten the robe, and Sam had pulled on a pair of black sweatpants that rode low on his hips. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, and Lacey was grateful. It was nice to be able to openly appreciate his body.
Sam brought two cold bottles of water to her spot at the counter and put one in front of her.
“You need to hydrate, sunshine,” he told her, then clasped the back of her neck in one hand and kissed her. She loved how he did that. It was gentle, yet commanding, and the combination made her dizzy.
“You’re bossy,” Lacey said, a bit dazed, when he released her neck.
“Yes.” Sam’s hand slipped into the neckline of the robe and cupped her breast. “You like that almost as much as you like bossing me around.”
She loved him.
The feeling crashed into her world like a meteor, wreaking havoc and destruction in its wake. There was no warning—or maybe there had been, but she’d ignored the wailing sirens by plugging her ears.
No, she didn’t. That was post-orgasmic bliss and a damn good grilled cheese talking. She couldn’t love him. She didn’t have much of a plan where her life was concerned, but falling in love with Sam Shoop was not on the list.
Except that her chest ached when she looked at him, like her heart was only just learning how to beat properly. And when she was away from him, she was only killing time until she could see him again.
This was horrible. This was a disaster.
Sam kissed her again, one hand in her robe, one hand on her neck, and her worries blew away like dandelion fuzz.
This was wonderful.
“I had an idea,” he said, withdrawing his hands to sit next to her. “More of a favor, actually.”
That cooled her jets. Nothing good had ever started with a boyfriend asking her for a favor. Sam wasn’t even her boyfriend, he was boyfriend adjacent, and it still made her wary.
“What kind of favor?”
“I’d like to take Daisy on the road with me eventually,” he began, “but I’m not sure how well she’ll travel. I’ve got some short trips coming up, and they could be good for a test drive.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Lacey asked, taking another bite of her grilled cheese to remind herself of Sam’s admirable qualities.
“I’d like for you to come with me so Daisy isn’t alone or with a stranger.”
That stung like floor burn. Sam didn’t want her company, he wanted a babysitter for the dog.
“I don’t think Daisy has ever met a stranger,” she pointed out, adjusting the neckline of her robe so it covered more, “and I have work.”
“You have a few weeks off for winter break. I saw it on the calendar in the office. I’ve got a trip to Vegas during that time. You could come on that, no problem.”
“Because sitting in a hotel room with a dog is everyone’s idea of a fun time in Vegas.”
Sam frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”
Lacey took another big bite of her grilled cheese. Chewing would give her time to cool down. This was why she shouldn’t have fucked him. Because fucking him had fucked with her head. It made her heart want to believe that she was in love with him, and being in love with him made her irritated that he wasn’t in love with her too. It was like standing on the subway platform in New York, watching the estimated arrival of her train say three minutes for ten minutes without a train in sight. She shouldn’t be shocked because it happened all the time, but she was.
She swallowed. “No, you didn’t. I’ll think about Vegas.”
“It seems like a win-win to me,” he said. “Daisy gets both of us, I get both of you.”
The frosty wall forming around her heart melted a little. “What do I get out of it?”
Sam smiled softly. “The hotel does have a world-class spa. So massages, facials, maybe a mani-pedi.” He shrugged. “You don’t have to spend the entire trip sitting with Daisy like you’re her nanny.”
“Do you think they’d let Daisy get a pedicure?” Lacey teased, starting to warm to the idea.
Sam’s face became serious. “Lacey, I am a respected, serious musician with a reputation to uphold. Of course our dog can get a pedicure at the spa.”
“So what’s happening in Vegas?” She stuffed the last of her sandwich in her mouth.
Sam became very interested in an invisible spot of grime on the kitchen counter. He rubbed at it with his thumb .
“A, um—it’s just an awards show. My team wants me to be more visible before we start working on the album.”
Lacey narrowly avoided choking on her sandwich. “Album?” She coughed, crumbs tickling her throat. “When did you write an album?”
A hot blush spread over Sam’s face. “Here and there. It’s fine, I guess. Grim can hopefully go in and fix all my bullshit, half-baked ideas.”
She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “Nu-uh. No, sir. We are not shitting on our hard work before it’s even done. If you’re not going to be nicer to yourself, I’m not going to fuck you anymore.”
His eyes widened. “So if I’m nice to myself, you’ll have sex with me?”
She nodded. A roguish smile spread across his face.
“I am the greatest musician to have ever lived. I am a literal creative genius?—”
Lacey began to laugh as Sam rose from his seat and loomed over her.
“Why are you laughing? You told me if I was nice to myself, you’d fuck me,” he said, barely fighting back his own laughter. “Was this not what you wanted?” His nose brushed hers.
It was on the tip of Lacey’s tongue to tell him that she loved him. The feeling had bubbled up again, intense as ever, but she bit it back. He didn’t need to know, and she didn’t want to spoil things.
“I could put on another episode of Midsomer for Daisy,” she offered, “Though if we’re going off your last performance, maybe something shorter? Like Scooby-Doo ?”
“You’re going to regret that,” Sam promised, eyes sparkling.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”