Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sam wanted to go home.
Which was ironic because he was technically at home. But Los Angeles didn’t feel like home because Lacey and Daisy were hundreds of miles away. It was just a house that was in desperate need of a leggy blonde on the kitchen counter and a yellow dog underfoot.
There was a blonde in his house, but it was the wrong blonde.
“What’s this soup called again?” Jenna asked, watching him suspiciously as he cracked eggs and added them to his measuring cup of lemon juice.
“Avgolemono,” he said, separating two egg yolks from their whites. “It’s Greek. You’ll love it.”
“But why are there eggs?”
“It makes the soup creamy and silky without using any cream,” Sam explained, whisking together the eggs and lemon juice.
Jenna’s face remained unsure. “It looks like you’re going to make a cake.”
“You need to learn to cook. ”
“That’s what Houston said.” Jenna twisted her new engagement ring. “And his mom. And his grandma. Basically everyone who showed up at the proposal had advice for me to be the perfect wife.”
The edge of anxiety in her voice cut through Sam’s concentration.
“Jen, are you okay?”
“Who? Me?” A weak, nervous laugh slipped past her lips. “I’m fine. I’m happy. I’m engaged.” She held up her left hand, the large oval-cut diamond sparkling in the kitchen light. Her tight smile told him not to reserve any time in June for a wedding. “How’s your relationship going?”
Sam removed the chicken thighs from the broth they’d been simmering in and added the rice, giving the soup a good stir before putting the lid on the pot.
How was his relationship going? If he didn’t count the strange tension that had appeared between them after the tree lighting, everything was great. Lacey had basically moved in, which was perfect for him because he got to fall asleep with her every night and wake up to her every morning. In the evenings, he got to hear about her day while he made her dinner. Sam never felt like he had much to contribute. She was instilling work ethic and confidence in children, and he was sitting in the basement strumming his guitar or banging on his keyboard, pretending to make music.
When he’d landed in Los Angeles, he tried to call his therapist. When he’d gone to Crane Cove, he’d let his sessions lapse, partly because he felt in a better headspace, and partly because Vanessa’s license didn’t extend to Oregon. Her phone went to voicemail, and the message said that she would be out of the office for the month of December and anyone having a crisis needed to call emergency services. Sam didn’t think his situation qualified as a crisis, even if it felt like a near disaster to him.
He needed to talk to someone, but his closest friends weren’t an option. If he told Jordy, Jordy would inevitably tell Annie, who would tell Eloise, who would tell Graham. If he told Graham, the same thing would happen in reverse. Despite having a motor mouth, Peter was a vault for secrets, but the situation would either disgust him because Sam had violated the sanctity of love, or he’d treat it like a movie plot. Because Sam couldn’t explain why being in love with Lacey was a problem without owning up to the fake dating scheme.
“I think I’m in love with her.”
Jenna’s jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God. Sam!” She hugged him tightly, compressing his rib cage until it became hard to breathe. “That’s amazing!”
“It’s not, actually,” he grunted. Jenna released him, and he took a deep breath, re-expanding his chest. “Lacey isn’t really my girlfriend.”
Jenna frowned deeply. “Not your girlfriend? I don’t understand.”
Sam took two forks out of the utensil drawer and started to shred the chicken thighs.
“Lacey and I agreed to be in a fake relationship.”
“Like a publicity stunt?”
“Umm, sort of?” A hot blush burned his cheeks. “Sometimes small-town life can be claustrophobic and I wanted some breathing room, so I made up a girlfriend.”
“And you asked Lacey to play the part?”
“Umm…” His cheeks grew hotter. “On accident. Someone asked me my girlfriend’s name and I said Lacey and…” He let his silence fill in the blank.
“Why the hell did she agree to this? Is she a fame hunter or something?” Jenna asked, her tone shifting from bewildered to aggressively protective.
“No, she’s not,” Sam assured her. “She dated a real fucking loser when she first moved to town, and dating me squashes any lingering doubts about her feelings for him.”
“I don’t know.” Jenna was skeptical. “I’ve gone out with some guys purely to get back at an ex. Are you sure she’s not trying to make him jealous?”
Sam snorted, unable to imagine a single scenario where Lacey would even let Mitch lick the bottom of her shoe. “Absolutely not. If you met him, you’d understand.”
“Okay, so you love her. Why is that a problem?”
“Because to her, our relationship is fake. It’s transactional. She reminds me of that all the time.” His stomach quivered at the carousel of memories. He hated that he found himself parroting her assertions in moments of anxiety, when it was easier to keep the status quo than risk pushing her away.
Jenna pointed to the chicken he’d shredded. “Do you cook for her?”
“Yeah.”
“And you don’t think there’s any chance she feels the same way about you?” Jenna raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Have you considered maybe using your big boy words to tell her how you feel?”
“No, Jen, that never crossed my mind,” he retorted dryly. “Of course I’ve considered it. But it feels like every time I’m about to say something, she brings up the fakeness of our relationship. It’s like she can read my mind and is cutting me off at the pass.”
“Do you want to vent, or do you want advice? Because I don’t want to waste my brainpower trying to fix your life if you’re going to be stubborn.”
Sam lifted the lid of the pot and stirred the rice, checking the doneness of the grains. “What would you do?”
She was quiet as he refitted the lid, then said, “I’d probably be a coward too. But that doesn’t mean you should be. If you’re not in imminent danger of her skipping town, you can think about it some more, but don’t wait forever.”
“What do I even say?” he asked, and took the lid off the pot again. He needed to temper the eggs so they wouldn’t scramble when he put them in the soup, so he began slowly adding hot broth to the egg-and-lemon mixture, whisking constantly.
“Have you tried ‘I pretty much hate everyone, but I don’t hate you. Will you be my real girlfriend?’”
“I don’t know why I invite you over,” Sam said. The gate bell rang in the front entry. “Can you go see if that’s Grim?”
“It’s because you value my musical contributions,” Jenna called over her shoulder, already halfway to the monitor. She pressed the speaker button and said, “Sam Shoop’s House of Whores and Horrors. What’s the password?”
“Butt plug,” Grim answered, his voice slightly distorted by the speaker. “I grabbed bread. Let me in.”
Jenna opened the gate, and then the door after Grim rang the bell. He was wearing another crochet granny square sweater monstrosity.
“It smells good. What did you make?” he asked.
“Avian lemon soup,” Jenna answered, completely butchering the pronunciation.
“Avgolemono,” Sam corrected, moving the soup off the heat to add the egg-and-lemon mixture, then the shredded chicken and remaining herbs.
Jenna shrugged. “Close enough.”
“So, what are your thoughts on the direction of the album?” Grim asked as they sat around the table. “Anything clear up since we last talked?”
After four days of being away from home, Sam could’ve kissed the pilot when he told them that they had a tailwind and would land a half hour ahead of their original estimate.
Lacey’s car was in his driveway, and a layer of anxiety melted away. He’d get to see her immediately, no waiting. Since he was earlier than he’d told her, he didn’t know if she’d be home when he arrived. Fuck, he’d missed her.
Daisy’s nails scrabbling to find purchase on the hardwood floors was the first sound he heard when he opened the door. The dog zoomed to the garage door, but her brakes failed and she skidded into the wall when she tried to stop. Sam chuckled and crouched down to give her some long overdue love.
“Sam?” Lacey shouted from the bedroom.
“Let’s go surprise Mommy,” he whispered to Daisy, who recognized the word “Mommy” and went sprinting to the bedroom. Sam followed, leaving his suitcase by the door.
“Sam?” Lacey called again, uncertainty creeping into her voice.
He entered the bedroom right as she was exiting the bathroom, wearing his robe and her hair in curlers, with the blow dryer raised in self-defense. Her face lit up when she saw him, and she dropped the blow dryer, running across the room to him.
“Sam!” Lacey’s brakes worked about as well as Daisy’s did, and she slammed into him, making him stumble several steps backward. He didn’t even get to say hi before her mouth was on his.
Oh yes. He’d missed her a lot.
“You’re early,” she scolded when she finally extracted her tongue from his mouth.
“We had a tailwind,” he said, reaching for the belt of the robe. Lacey smacked his hand.
“Not yet. Go take a shower first.”
Sam started to remove his clothes, hoping she’d change her mind if he got naked.
“Why is your hair in curlers?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” she said. “And my hair wouldn’t be in curlers if you’d gotten home when you said you’d be getting home , Samuel.”
Sam undid his belt. “My name isn’t Samuel.”
Lacey frowned. “It isn’t?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not a Samuel.”
“Samson?”
“You can keep guessing, but I doubt you’ll get it.”
“Is it one of those things where everyone calls you Sam but that’s your middle name?”
“Nope.” He pushed down his pants and was satisfied when Lacey’s eyes immediately went to his thickening cock.
“Was the answer ever revealed in a teen magazine?”
“No, it was not. Do you still want me to shower? I don’t mind the curlers.”
That made Lacey laugh. “Yes, but I do. They’re not comfortable when I lay down. I’m convinced my grandma slept sitting up her entire adult life.” She gingerly patted her hair. “Go take a nice, long, hot shower. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Sam’s cock perked up at that. It was highly unlikely the surprise would be something mundane like a vacuum, and very likely it would lead to Lacey being naked.
A hot shower did feel good. He soaped up his body and stood in the steaming stream, trying to judge exactly how long he was supposed to stay there. Was five minutes enough? Ten?
Plus he had his own surprise for Lacey sitting by the door.
“Can I come out?” he shouted over the water. No response. “Sunshine?”
Still no answer .
Sam turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, quickly drying himself off and wrapping the towel around his hips. Lacey’s rollers were in the sink, so he spent a few minutes putting those back into their case, then he crept out of the bathroom. There was no sign of Lacey or Daisy.
They weren’t in the hallway or the kitchen when he went to gather his bags, which meant Lacey had probably taken Daisy downstairs for some TV time. His cock throbbed in time with the beat of his heart, rapidly growing hard again.
The hollow thundering of bare feet running up the stairs echoed in the silent house. Lacey reached the top of the stairs, and her eyes widened when they met his. She hastily closed his robe tighter around herself. Her hair, which he so often saw up in a bun or a ponytail, was done in loose, bouncy curls. She could’ve given any pageant queen a run for her money.
“Sam! You’re supposed to be in the shower,” she admonished.
“I needed my luggage,” he said, pointing to his bags.
“You don’t need clothes. Trust me.”
Sam raised an eyebrow, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth. “But what if I wasn’t getting clothes?”
Lacey sighed defeatedly and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is not going how I planned.”
“Can I help?” he asked, still amused by the situation.
“Just…stay put for five minutes, okay?” She started walking quickly toward the bedroom. “Do. Not. Move.”
He looked at the clock on the microwave. “Is this an actual five minutes, or the five minutes you use when you’re almost ready to leave the house?”
“Sam.” Her lips pursed together in flustered silence. “Don’t be cute when I’m trying to be sexy. Stay. Put.”
It took a lot of effort not to laugh, but he managed it. Barely. Lacey was so cute when she was mildly peeved at him. It only made him want to annoy her on purpose. Sometimes it got him punished in the sexiest ways.
If a watched pot never boiled, then a watched clock did not move. Five minutes passed like five years. The anticipation was going to wreck his nerves. The mix of anxiety and excitement was almost too much to bear.
“Sam,” Lacey beckoned from the bedroom, and he had to force himself to walk and not run.
Soft light spilled into the hallway, and Sam’s pulse became supersonic. He took a few deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm himself as he reached the door. Lacey was standing next to the bed, still encased in his robe. Sam frowned.
“I couldn’t see that you turned down the lights?”
Lacey’s hands hovered over the knotted tie around her waist. “Look, this was going to be really sexy, but you got home early and threw off my groove, and I couldn’t decide what I wanted to do, so…”
She undid the knot and unwrapped herself like the early Christmas present of his dreams. The robe fell to the floor, and Sam’s jaw fell with it. Lacey was wearing a powder-blue lingerie set with the most delicate light pink bows. He would’ve counted them if he could remember any numbers. Sam’s eyes scanned her body slowly from top to bottom, desperately trying to sear this moment in his memory for all eternity. His mouth went dry when he hit her long, perfect legs: she was wearing white thigh-high stockings, held in place by tiny clips attached to silly little suspenders held up by a garter belt around her waist.
Lacey giggled. “Okay, it was worth it for the look on your face.”
Sam’s brain found enough function to say, “Wow.”
“So you like it?” she asked, her confidence rising like the sun.
“‘Like’ is not a strong enough word,” he said, doing his best not to drool as he spoke. “When did you get that?”
“This morning. I ordered it online.” Lacey grinned and crooked a finger at him. “Come here.”
Sam rushed toward her like his survival depended on fucking her. His towel fell to the floor in his hurry, and in a feat of strength and acrobatics he would never be able to achieve again, he managed to pick Lacey up, her legs instantly wrapping around his waist. He supported her weight by securing his hands on her ass. Their mouths crashed together, and he walked the last few feet to the bed until he hit the mattress and they fell forward.
“Fuck,” he moaned into her mouth. “Goddamn, I want to feel you around my cock.”
“Soon,” she promised, then sucked on his tongue. Pre-cum leaked from the head of his cock onto her stomach.
“Sunshine, I want to feel you, all of you, around my cock. Nothing between us.” He rocked his hips for emphasis, the friction sending shivers over his body.
Lacey pulled back a fraction to study him, a few different emotions playing across her beautiful face. Consideration, but mostly caution.
“Sam, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” she began, making her tone as gentle and appeasing as possible, “and this might sound kind of stupid since I’ve already had your cock in my mouth, but?—”
“You want a test first?” Sam offered.
Lacey relaxed and nodded. “I know I’m being paranoid?—”
“You’re not being paranoid,” he told her. “Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m more than willing to do it. Anything for you, sunshine.”
Sam would’ve told her he loved her then, except Lacey stole the words from his mouth by putting her tongue there, and then all higher function left his brain when she reached between them and began working his cock with her hand. She had no idea how much she had him in the palm of her hand, both literally and figuratively.
“I fucking love it when you’re hard for me,” she panted against his mouth. “You’re going to fuck me so good, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, and then pulled his cock free from her grasp. “But if you keep doing that, we’re not going to make it to the good stuff.”
Lacey pouted. “I don’t get to play?”
“Not until after I’ve had my fun with you.”
Sam kissed his way down her body, forging a trail from her mouth to her jaw, down her neck, across her collar bone, and over the small slope of her breast. He teased her nipple with his tongue through the sheer fabric, and Lacey arched her back with a whine. He repeated the process with her other nipple, and she whimpered plaintively.
“Sam…”
He took a small amount of pity on her and reached between them to stroke her pussy through her panties. Except instead of soaked fabric, he touched hot, silken, wet skin. His mouth popped off her breast to look down to see if his sense of touch was lying to him.
“Are these…crotchless?” he asked in wonderment.
Lacey had the audacity to giggle triumphantly, so Sam silenced her by swiping his thumb across her clit, which turned her merriment into a moan.
“Yes. I wanted to make things—oh fuck, Sam—easy for you.”
Fuck teasing her. Fuck drawing this out. A primitive, animal instinct overtook him, and Sam grabbed Lacey behind her knees and roughly forced her legs open and back so she was bared to him, open and glistening in the soft light. He buried his face in her cunt, licking and sucking and probing her with his tongue, tasting her like he was a starving man.
Her fingers sank into his hair and held his head in place, like there was any chance he’d stop eating her out. His house could have been on fire and he wouldn’t have stopped. He needed her high-pitched whines, her breathy sighs, and desperate moans. He needed the salty sweet musk of her on his tongue.
Her thighs trembled under his hands as he tasted her first orgasm. It wasn’t enough. He needed more.
Sam sucked on her clit, and Lacey squeaked like a mouse. He pulled back to blow on her cunt and noticed something he hadn’t before in his desperate dive for her pussy.
“Is that a butt plug?”
Lacey groaned. “I don’t know anymore. My brain is mush. Fucking hell, Sam.”
“You’ve made me fucking feral, sunshine.” He pushed her knees further back, tilting her ass upward. The butt plug was one of the ones with the fake jewel on the end, making her ass look like the treasure that it was.
“You’re so pretty like this,” he praised her, releasing one leg so he could twist the plug, gently tugging so the widest part stretched her asshole, then pushing it back in. “Dripping wet with your ass full.”
“I want to be stuffed,” she gasped, her voice catching as he manipulated the plug. “Please, please, please fuck me—with your cock, you loophole-finding bastard.”
“Such language,” he teased, pushing the plug back in. “I don’t know if you deserve to be fucked.”
Her hand shot out and grasped his throat. Pleasure rolled through his body like a wave. “If you don’t fuck me right now , you’re never going to see my pussy ever again.”
Goddamn, he loved a power play.
Sam grasped her dainty wrists and pinned them above her head. “You’re not in charge right now, sunshine.”
Lacey struggled against his grip. “Let go of me.”
Sam paused, but didn’t let go. “Red or green?”
Her struggling stopped. “Green.”
“If you don’t behave, I’m going to spank your ass so hard you’ll remember your manners every time you sit down for a week.”
Lacey’s eyes widened and her breathing quickened. She liked that idea. He could work with this line of thinking.
“I’m going to let you pick your punishment. My hand or the paddle?”
Lacey’s eyes grew wider. “You have a paddle?”
“Get on your hands and knees, ass up in the air,” Sam instructed and let go of her wrists.
Lacey hurried to comply, rolling over and pushing her ass against his groin. The jeweled end of her plug rubbed against the sensitive head of his cock, and he clenched his teeth to keep from moaning.
“Don’t move.” He moved off the bed and hurried over to one of his suitcases. Inside he’d packed some of his favorite tools and toys, ones he thought Lacey would enjoy as much as he did. If he’d known she wanted to be stuffed full, he would have packed his strap-on harness to give her the full double penetration experience with a single partner.
The paddle he selected was made of silicon, like a spatula, and shaped like a ping-pong paddle. It proved a nice, sharp sting, with a low chance of accidental injury.
Sam walked back to the bed and showed Lacey the paddle.
“We’re going to do this until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your lesson,” he said. Lacey wiggled her ass.
Smack. Thwack .
Sam spanked her twice in quick succession, once with an upward follow-through, and the second time he pressed the paddle against her skin at the end to dull the resulting sting.
“Yes,” Lacey moaned, her chest melting into the mattress, making her ass stick further into the air.
He shouldn’t reward her for outwardly enjoying what was supposed to be a punishment, but Sam had a difficult time denying Lacey anything she liked for very long. He repeated the process on her other cheek, then kissed her between her shoulder blades.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Not even a little bit.”
By the time Sam dropped the paddle on the floor, Lacey’s ass was red and her pussy was clenching around thin air. He wasn’t much better; his cock was so hard the slightest movement of air was agony.
Sam gingerly rolled a condom down his aching shaft.
“Are you finally going to fuck me?” Lacey asked, watching him over her shoulder with a languid, satisfied expression.
“For as long as I can,” Sam promised, and kissed her shoulder. “On your back, sunshine. I want to see your face when I enter you.”
With a soft sigh, Lacey rolled onto her back, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, lazy kiss. Sam didn’t know what would burst first, his heart or his balls.
He rubbed the head of his cock against her clit, and Lacey jerked.
“Oh, yes, please,” she moaned. “Give it to me.”
The bliss on her face when he pushed inside her was worth every minute he’d waited. Lacey arched and gasped, and her cunt clenched around his cock like it was giving it a hug. And as much as he’d wanted to pound her into the mattress earlier, now he wanted to make love to her. To put into motion all the things he couldn’t find the right time or words to say. Sam rocked into her, rolling his hips against hers, praising her or whispering sweet nothings with every thrust.
Despite his gentle pace, his orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. He’d ridden the edge too long and paid for it as his muscles tightened to a borderline painful point. Or maybe it was a reward. His oxytocin-flooded brain couldn’t suss out the difference.
When his soul returned to his body, Lacey was rubbing his back in soft, soothing circles, pressing tender kisses to his shoulder.
“You good?” she asked, and all he could do was nod.
They stayed like that for a while, until Sam became dangerously soft. He held the base of the condom as he pulled out.
“I’m not going to lie,” Lacey said, pushing herself up on her elbow to look, “I half expected that thing to be busted.”
“Why?” Sam panted, easing the condom off and tying a knot in the end.
“You came hard ,” she told him.
He stood on shaky, noodle-like legs. “How’s your ass?”
“Deliciously sore.” Lacey grinned triumphantly. There was something about a well-fucked partner that made him want to crow with pride.
After they cleaned up in the bathroom, Lacey changed out of her lingerie and into one of his T-shirts. Her voluminous hair went back into its usual bun. It was well past midnight for his Cinderella.
“I missed you,” Lacey said as they sat at the kitchen counter, sharing an open carton of Tillamook strawberry ice cream. Two spoons. No bowls.
“Are you talking to me or the ice cream? ”
She rolled her eyes. “You. I’ve had the ice cream every night.”
“I thought it looked a little low.” He winked and she blushed, trying to hide her grin with a spoonful of ice cream. “I missed you too.”