CHAPTER 9
Kian
Samia resembles a stumbling newborn foal on roller skates when I watch her coming out of her bedroom hours later. The physio sessions have improved her balance because she scarcely reaches out to hold on to things anymore, fearing she might trip over.
She’s sleepy and gorgeous, cranky too, as she glances up and notes me sitting on the windowsill holding a mug of steaming coffee. She locks her eyes on me, trapping me in her grasp. Craving her closeness is a constant in my life. I accepted that long ago.
She’s decided to ignore me, I see. I don’t take it personally. Nothing Samia could say or do would put me off from pursuing her like a missile. If she’s embarrassed after making out with me earlier, then I have just the solution and the willing tongue to make her feel all better again. My mouth floods with moisture, needing her lips underneath mine again.
One long-awaited kiss and I’m an addicted prick who needs more.
Nothing about me says I’m a patient guy. But that kiss was worth all the agony.
“Morning, baby.” I greet, and she grunts, heading toward the kitchen. “Come here; I have your coffee.” I’d made it minutes ago when I caught a sound from the bedroom. She looks at me suspiciously, but the caffeine junkie will always go for her drug, and I know how to hook my Samia in when her eyes open. She needs the sweetness, and I offer it like diamonds as I watch her shuffling over, dressed only in the tiniest pair of sleep shorts and a tank top that doesn’t disguise the pebbling of her bare nipples.
My eyes sweep her up and down, lapping her with a violent stare.
The word stunning was invented to describe Samia Madsen.
And she’s all mine.
“Thank you,” she rasps, taking the cup and squeaks as I gently pull her onto my lap. “Kian, let me up.”
“Shhh, drink your coffee and find a good mood somewhere underneath all that crankiness.” I grin against her neck, kissing a slow path to heaven.
She sips, and I kiss. It’s not a terrible start to the day. This morning was better. And when I can’t take more of her coffee-induced moaning because I’m a jealous guy and I want those noises to be made because of me, I nip her bare shoulder.
“Hey,” she grumbles, snapping her gaze at me. “No biting.”
“Or what, dreamgirl? You’ll choke the life out of me again, hm?”
My amusement earns me a fierce glare that only results in making me hornier. There’s something hot about her little pops of bad mood that does it for me.
“I could have killed you if I wanted to.” She huffs, burying her mouth in the cup again, sipping with lady-like gulps. “You’re lucky to be still here giving me shit. You’re welcome.”
“So fucking lucky,” I agree, my mouth against her rampant neck pulse. “Never had a woman fall asleep while I was kissing her, though.” I share just to see the color flood over her face and neck. I don’t have to wait long, and that’s when Samia jabs my shoulder. Because I don’t want to be black and blue, I capture that hand and tuck it up against my chest, my palm covering it. “Be a good girl, and we’ll go out soon.”
“Go where?” her eyebrow lifts in question.
“I still owe you for the deal we made the day of your waxing.”
“Yes, you do.” Her eyes light up, and I know it will cost me. “I hope your pockets are deep.”
“Deep as you need, baby. Do you wanna get dressed? We have the entire weekend ahead.”
“For what?”
“To celebrate.”
That perverted fucker is hopefully being processed by the cops. His life splintered apart at the seams. And I have Samia’s taste in my mouth. I can’t think of two better reasons to celebrate.
Reluctantly, I let her slip off my lap.
When she sighs, it gives me a stab of irritation. It’s bad enough that I can’t race us to the finish line before she’s ready, but it will be one hell of a battle if I have to fight her for every second to be with me.
“Is it so hard spending a few hours with me?”
“Yes, it’s excruciating.” But then she smiles and sashays away from me, my eyes pinned to her swishing ass.
“Give me a shout if you want your back washing.” I’m so helpful that they should make me an honorary Boy Scout. Samia turns her scowl on me, and it’s so damn sexy I nearly pounce on her in the middle of the floor.
“Keep dreaming, MacNamara.”
“Oh, baby, I do.”
While waiting for my alert to shower with her, I make a few calls. Running a multimillion-dollar import business under the legal radar takes up much of my time. That time has been divided for the past months because my obsession needed me close, so I’ve usually conducted business while Samia was sleeping. The need to be hovering over her like a demonic shadow might have lost me a few million here and there, but I couldn’t give a shit. There’s always more money to make, but only one Samia. And one obsession.
Carter calls himself my executive assistant when he’s a well-paid lackey with an expensive car. He’s worked for me for the past five years, and like my right hand, he knows what will interest me by bringing deals to my attention.
After reading his email, I connect a call. His voice is groggy with sleep.
“Do ya know what fucking time it is?”
“Yep, do you?”
“Fuck knows, but it feels like the middle of the night,” he muffles as if he’s buried his head in a pillow. I hear the faint sound of a female voice asking what’s going on. “Nothing,” he tells his overnight guest. “It’s time to get dressed, babe.” I hear the back-and-forth conversation that follows. The woman is pissed she’s being kicked out of bed. And then, to me, “Hold on a second, Kian.”
“You rarely have women staying over,” I remark once he’s back on the line. I hear him taking a drag from a cigarette as he sighs. “I didn’t get home until late. She was waiting on the doorstep.”
“Food delivery services have improved.”
Carter laughs. “Now, why the hell are you calling so early? Some of us were working until four this morning.”
“You’re paid well, you little shit. Anyway. I saw your email about Rocco. Let him know twelve tonnes by Sunday next week and add ten percent for fucking me around so much.”
There’s a suck of air and then an exhale of smoke. “He’s gonna bitch like a little princess, you know that? The guy gives me an earache.”
“Not my problem. He can buy elsewhere if that’s the hill he wants to die on.”
You do business with the same men for long enough that they all try to outsmart me or rely on a so-called friendship, so I will allow shit to slide. They learn quickly enough that I’m not about that life. If you want me to provide certain items, my price is paid without delay. I’m taking all the risks and bribing officials left and right. Getting the message that Rocco, a long-time client, was late again with a payment pissed me off, but as soon as I caught a movement from across the room, my eyes turned to watch a striding Samia like a runway model full of sexy confidence. Her eyes clash with mine, and she offers a faint smile.
“Are you even listening to me?” I hear.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if you’re thinking of heading to the warehouse today?”
Holding out my hand, motioning with two fingers, she pauses briefly before sighing and coming toward me. That’s my good girl. Her fingers are clasped in mine, and her body is pulled into me before I reply. “Not yet. You can handle things, yeah?”
“I suppose I have to while you’re playing house with the little Mrs.”
“No one likes a jealous man, Carter.” My lips skim Samia’s forehead, and I let my hand drop to cover her tight little ass in the high-waisted cream pants. I expect a slap around the face, but she only braces a hand on my chest, fiddling with a shirt button. “Ask your overnight guest to play house with you.”
“Fuck that and fuck you,” he laughs and then hangs up. Suggesting Carter do anything monogamous is the fastest way to get the guy running.
“Who was that?”
“Carter. You don’t know him because I never let you meet him. He works for me.”
She pulls a face. “Is he as bad as you are?”
Smirking, her little jab earns her a kiss, and she moans into my mouth before I pull away to see how fast her eyes have turned glassy.
“I’m worse.”
“Oh, that much I know. So, where are we going?”
I have a few places in mind, but there’s nothing but time in front of us, so we start by going out for breakfast at a little place around the corner. When my girl is decidedly full, I hook up her hand and head back toward my parked car.
“Maybe we could go to my apartment today after we finish doing whatever we’re doing? If there’s time. I could air the place out.” Samia then asks, “Do you know where it is?”
Giving her a side glance, her face splits into a faint grin. “Of course, you know where it is.”
If only she knew the last time I was in her bed. Touching all her things, smelling her faintly on the sheets. It was at that moment I knew how sick and depraved I was. And, more importantly, how okay I was about it.
“We can go anywhere you want to, dreamgirl.” I lean into the car and buckle her in. She gives me the softest smile, and I hoard it like a dragon.
That smile is mine. I’ll do anything to have more. Stealing a kiss because she’s so fucking biteable, I swallow her gasp.
“Not sure it’s worth going, though.”
“What do you mean?” she asks once I’m seated.
She’ll find out soon enough. “I promised you anything, so let’s take you shopping, baby.”
“You’ll regret saying it, Kian.” She smiles deviously, choosing a station to play on the radio. Thank fuck it’s none of that country shit my sisters are into right now. I had to shell out for front-row concert tickets last month so they could scream at a guy wearing a Stetson and cowboy boots.
For the next few hours, in between shopping sprees, I make sure my girl rests and has something to snack on. Constant snacks and coffee breaks are the key to adjusting her crankiness meter.
With our cafe chairs together, my legs outstretched, and a hand locked around the back of her nape, she turns her head to look at me dubiously, some time later.
“You’re hovering like a mother bear, Kian. I’m fine, I promise, I won’t collapse.”
“Surely a daddy bear,” I suggest, rolling a growl against the bottom of her neck to make her laugh as she tries to push me away. She glances at the many boutique bags sitting near our feet. And then her smile is radiant and teasing. “Sugar daddy is more truthful. You’ve spoiled me.”
“Every day of your life, baby.” I rumble against her neck. I mean it; whatever she wants, she can have. Nothing is off-limits. Climbing to my feet, I lean down and tip her chin so she’s looking at me, her eyebrow arched in question. “I’m gonna run these bags to the car, so I have fingers free for your next shopping dash.” The grin Samia gives me makes me chuckle lightly.
“You were warned, MacNamara. I should make you sign over your car for the stunt you pulled in the beauty salon.”
“Is there a car you want?”
“Why? Will you steal one?”
I smirk, kissing her lips and lingering over the sweetness from the donut she had inhaled moments ago. The wink is answer enough.
“Don’t even, Kian. I was joking.”
“What my dreamgirl wants…” I leave it hanging as I grasp the shopping haul in one hand and hot-foot it out of the cafe, telling her I won’t be long.
It’s long enough that some soft bastard is sniffing around my woman when I return. My eyes slit to narrow lines, watching as the douche in a cashmere sweater grins and rubs a hand on my girl’s upper arm.
He puts a fucking hand on her as she laughs.
Samia’s back is to me, and she’s seated, but the guy is standing over her. I can only see the side of her face, and she doesn’t look distressed or bothered by him. As I eat up the ground beneath me, vibrating with possessive, deranged thoughts of pulling off all those fingers and shoving them down his throat, I catch him saying.
“I wish you’d called, Sam. I thought our first date went well, didn’t you?” it’s the second time he touches her arm, and that’s my end, practically seeing the violence of red bleeding into my vision.
“Sorry, I took so long, baby.” My hand curls around Samia’s nape, and I hear her gasp, twisting around to see me. Her face flushes as her gaze speeds to the looming preppy. I kiss her forehead and then angle an eyebrow, glaring at him. “Who’s this?”
“Brent, this is Kian, my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend. That’s right, my good girl. Some of my boiled anger simmers, and my fingers flex around her nape.
The guy is flustered, his jawline stained with embarrassed color, his gaze bouncing between us. “Oh, shit, I didn’t know. Sorry, Sam. Good to meet you, Kian.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, my man. I’m the lucky sonuvabitch here. You get me?”
“Yeah,” he says, looking at her with regret. “Yeah, I do. Anyway, it was nice to see you, if you ever…”
“She won’t,” I growl, my tone changing. There won’t ever be a reason for Samia to call any other guy for a date. That’s a guarantee carved in stone.
“You were rude, Kian,” she chuckles, and the noise surprises me. I expected her to scowl, at the least.
“The slobbering dipshit is lucky I let him leave on unbroken legs and not flying through the window.”
“Oh, my god,” she laughs now, climbing to her feet as I toss money onto the table to pay the bill. “Get going, troublemaker.”
“Me? I can’t leave for five minutes without guys hitting on you.”
“It was one guy I had a date with forever ago. A date I remember…” she’s the one who slips her hand into mine without me having to grab it, and it feels like success sluicing in my bloodstream. “Funny that, isn’t it, Kian?”
“Guys like that are forgettable, sweetheart. There’s a lot of me in your future to remember.”
“Slick,” she chuckles and then yawns. “I don’t think I’m up for more shopping, even though I wanted to do serious damage to your cards. Can we go to my apartment now?”
“There’s always another day to bankrupt me.”
It takes a while to reach Samia’s midtown apartment through gridlock traffic; she doses on and off in the passenger seat. I wake her with a kiss on the lips, and her hand curls around my neck before I can pull away. The kiss becomes feral, with Samia biting on my bottom lip. It takes the strength of my ancestors to drag me off her mouth so I can escort her inside. She drowsily leans into my body with my arm curled around her waist. She doesn’t even question when I punch in the security code or use my key to enter the building and her second-floor apartment.
Once in the hallway, I shut the door behind us and reset the alarm system.
And then I wait with my hands pushed down into the front pockets of my jeans, an arm resting on the wall, and feet crossed at the ankles.
It takes maybe half a minute.
And then I hear Samia yell. “Oh, my god, Kian! I think I’ve been robbed!” she rushes into the hallway, looking all sweet and worried, her eyes wide. “Some of my things are gone!” she runs from room to room, calling out what she can no longer see. “The bulk of my clothes are gone, Kian!” she yells, and I follow slowly. “Do you think I should call the police? I think I should. Shit, this is a nightmare.”
“No, baby, I don’t think you should.”
She blinks, and then her face darkens. “Are you high? All my jewelry is gone, Kian! I bought that diamond tennis bracelet with my first big paycheck, and now it’s gone. All the earrings and necklaces I got from mom.” That’s when she sinks to the corner of her bed, tears brim her eyelashes.
I can’t stand seeing her upset, so it’s time to set her straight. Striding forward, I crouch in front of her, resting a hand on her thigh.
“Dreamgirl, your things aren’t stolen. They’re at my place. Our place. Where we live together.”