Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
LOUISA
I wake up to the sound of birds chirping, which is unusual since my apartment is downtown. Typically, I only hear pigeons outside my window.
I rub my eyes and reach over to my nightstand to grab my phone. I feel around for it and bump into a glass, weird. I blink a few more times and realize I'm not in my room.
Fuck. Where am I?
I start to panic and look for my phone. It's plugged in next to a glass of water and some pills. I notice a sticky note on top of my phone that reads, 'B knows where you are. Text me when you're up. - Sam'.
I look around and see that I'm in a small bedroom that's very tidy and decorated in warm, neutral tones. I'm in a queen-size bed, and I can't tell if the other side has been slept in or if I just messed up the sheets while sleeping.
So many questions race through my mind. Is this Sam's room? Did he sleep in here with me? Where is he? How the hell did I get here ?
I look over at the nightstand again, pick up the glass of water, and take the pills. I only have a slight headache, which is shocking since I don't remember most of the night. Sam must have taken care of me and made sure I was hydrated before I fell asleep. I unlock my phone to read through my messages and look at my call history.
After piecing everything together, I guess that I called Sam while very drunk, and he came to pick me up. My keys were missing, so he brought me here, keeping B updated every step of the way.
I get out of bed and realize that I'm wearing an oversized shirt and shorts that are staying around my waist only due to the tightened and knotted drawstrings. I unplug my phone and walk to the door. I need to find a bathroom; my bladder is so full right now. I step out into the hallway and look around. I find the bathroom, relieve myself, and brush my teeth with a toothbrush he left out for me before going back out into the hallway.
I hear music playing from somewhere, so I follow it to the kitchen, where I find Sam making breakfast. He doesn't hear me walk in, so I clear my throat.
"Morning."
He whips around, slightly startled by my silent entrance. "Morning. How are you feeling?"
"Surprisingly, not too bad. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I'm really sorry I called you."
He gives me a questioning look. "Do you remember much from last night?"
"No, I don't even remember calling you, but I checked my messages when I woke up and put two and two together."
He nods and turns back to the stove .
"I hope I didn't embarrass myself too much." To be honest, I am mortified. I have no idea what I said or did.
"No, you were fine. Just drunk. " I don’t know how, but I can tell he's lying.
I walk over to get closer and hop up on the counter next to him. I just sit there and watch him make eggs.
He takes his eyes off the pan and looks over at me.
"You hungry?"
"Starving."
He gives me that adorable soft smile that melts me. "Good."
"So why were you at the spa with your mom yesterday?"
"She was having a bad week, so we spent the day together."
"That's so sweet. Did Quinn and Jacob join you guys, or are you the favorite son?"
He hesitates. "Quinn joined us later for lunch and a movie."
"Well, your mom is very lucky to have sons who will spend the day with her when she's having a hard time."
He just shrugs, and the corners of his mouth lift, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes.
When he finishes, he hands me a plate, and I dish up some eggs, bacon, and toast. He walks over to the stools by the island, and I follow, taking a seat next to him. I could have left an empty stool between us, but I don't.
I feel like I should be more nervous than I am, but after he saw me in such a drunken state last night, the ice has already been broken again. We eat, and he fills me in on the details I'm missing about how last night played out.
I just laugh because what else can I do at this point? He doesn't appear to be annoyed by any of it, which is a slight relief. I would say I forgot how kind and understanding he is, but I didn't.
Sam is the type of friend you call when your car breaks down because you know he'll drop everything to help. Maybe that's why I called him last night. Then again, it likely has more to do with the fact that I still have feelings for him and had just run into him that morning.
His arm is close to brushing mine, and I can feel the static between us. I want to touch him so badly, but I still don't know how he feels.
I glance over at him and catch him looking at me. At first, he looks away, embarrassed, but then he looks back at me, and I stare into those eyes.
They’re a mixture of blue, green, and brown. Not the kind that change color, but the kind where there are patches of each color speckled around his iris. They're like an abstract painting or a patchwork quilt.
So unique and so mesmerizing.
I break the tension by speaking. "This hit the spot, thank you."
He nods, still keeping eye contact with me. "It's no problem."
I'm the one to finally break the stare. I look down at the clothes that I'm assuming are his.
"Would you mind if I rinsed off before I leave?"
"Yeah, that's no problem at all. The bathroom is across the hall from the room you slept in, and the towels are in the hall closet next to my room."
I didn't sleep in his bed after all; that's a relief.
I go to grab my plate to bring it to the sink, but he beats me to it. I walk back to the hallway to grab a towel out of the closet. Most of the doors are shut, so it's a bit of a guessing game, but I eventually find the right door .
I go to reach up for a towel but stop when I spot a shelf full of games, and right up front, I see a little red box. It's the question game that we played together when we first started talking.
I smile to myself and grab it off the shelf. Fond memories flood my brain, and I want to read a few cards to bring me back there, back when I thought I was falling for Sam and that he was falling for me.
We talked about so many things and didn't just stop at the questions. We often got lost on tangents, talking about things that related to the cards but going way deeper, sharing way more. I look over my shoulder to make sure he can't see me. I turn back to the box and open it, taking out a few cards from the Level 2 section.
My brows scrunch together in confusion.
What is this?
The cards I picked up have writing on them. I grab out a few more cards and realize that almost all of them are covered in black Sharpie. I read the slightly messy handwriting and realize that it’s answers to the questions. My answers.
He had been writing down my answers to the questions. My heart starts to ache, and water pools in my eyes, making my vision blurry. I blink them away, and one falls on the card I was reading.
"Did you find it?"
I startle and turn to see Sam standing at the other end of the hallway, near the kitchen. He looks at me with that sweet face, standing there in his blue shirt and grey sweatpants.
He looks so good.
He must notice my tears because his face turns, and he looks concerned. His eyes wander to the box and the cards I'm holding.
My voice is slightly hoarse from choking back tears, but I manage to ask, "You wrote down my answers?"
He slowly nods his head, and he looks hesitant. "I didn't want to forget anything about you."
My chin quivers, and I focus all my effort on not letting any more tears fall. How did it go from this to ending so fast? I don't get it, and I'm even more confused now than I have been in the past eight months.
I can see his chest rising and falling, his breathing labored. He takes a couple steps down the hall, closing the distance between us, but stops with a few feet remaining. I can see his face better now, and it looks just as pained as my body feels.
I drop the cards on the floor and lunge forward the last few feet to close the gap. His arms reach out and catch me, pulling me in close to him. My arms wrap around his neck, and I plant my lips on his.
Our lips move wildly across each other's, and my hands work their way through his curls, pulling him even closer and pressing our lips even tighter together. My heart is racing, and I can feel his against my chest, keeping pace with mine. His hands slide down my back to my thighs, and he picks me up, wrapping my legs around him.
His tongue sweeps into my mouth and brushes up against mine. I moan and move my hips against him, unable to control myself. The next thing I know, he's carrying me down the hallway and into his bedroom. He walks blindly all the way to his bed without a single misstep. He puts one knee on the bed to stabilize himself and lays me down.
My legs are still wrapped around him, and I hold them firm when he tries to pull away. I want to keep him close to me; I don't want to let go. His full weight is on me, and I take pleasure in the compression of him. His hands, no longer needing to support my weight, still linger on my thighs. He runs them up and down, finally resting them on my ass.
He lets go and lifts himself up; this time, I release him. He kneels on the bed between my legs, and I lift myself up on my elbows, waiting for his next move. He lifts up his shirt that I'm wearing, enough to expose my stomach. He bends over and runs his lips across my skin, kissing from my sternum, across my naval, and lower to the waistband of the shorts. I run a hand through his hair and lay back, closing my eyes, soaking in every ounce of his touch.
He teases at the waistband, pulling it down only slightly and running his tongue along the sensitive skin on my hip. My body is begging for him, so ready to feel him again.
He stops, and I look down at him to see why he stopped. I find him looking at me, a question in his eyes. I nod. "Yes...please."
He continues, pulling down the shorts painfully slow and thoroughly kissing each new section of skin that gets uncovered. Finally, he's where I want him. He grabs the shorts, pulls them the rest of the way down, and throws them behind him.
For whatever reason, I chose not to keep my underwear on when I changed last night, and I'm glad I didn't. I can't take any more of this slow torture.
He licks up my already wet center and moans into me, sending a shiver up my spine. I echo his moans as he devours me like he's been starving for days. I'm so worked up that it doesn't take long for me to come all over his tongue. He didn't even have a chance to use his fingers this time.
I sit up slightly and lean forward to grab his chin, pulling it up toward my face. I kiss him while he's still got my come all over his lips, and I taste myself on him.
He looks winded in the best way. I bite my bottom lip, and he reaches one hand up to cup my cheek, running his thumb across my wet, swollen lip. I playfully bite the tip of his thumb, and he smiles at me, eyes hungry for the promise of more.
I wiggle out from under him, and he waits for my queue. I push gently on his shoulders, coaxing him up on his knees and then further onto his back. He swings his legs around and adjusts himself so he's more centered on the bed and takes off his shirt.
When I finally have him where I want him. I spread his legs and crawl between them. Then, with both hands, I grab his sweats and tug them down. He lifts up his hips to help me as I pull them all the way off, tossing them on the floor.
He’s also not wearing any underwear under his sweats, which was a bold move, knowing he'd be seeing me in the morning. It just proves that he wasn't expecting this at all, and that thought turns me on even more.
I run my hand up and down his rock-solid shaft and bend forward to position myself. I keep my eyes on his face because I like watching how much I can drive him crazy.
When I run my tongue up his length, his mouth falls open, his eyes close, and his head tilts back into his pillow. I put as much of him as I can in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down, completely soaking him. From this view, I see his abs flexing with every bit of pleasure I'm giving to him.
He reaches down and puts his hand on the back of my head, gently grabbing my hair. "Lou, you're going to make me come before I even get inside you."
I feel a flutter between my legs at his plea. I lift my head up to look at him, his cock slipping out from between my lips. He's panting even harder now with his eyes still closed. He opens them and huffs out a laugh. "Sorry, it's been a while."
I smirk at him to let him know it didn't bother me. "Where are your condoms?"
He sits himself up, and I move out from between his legs so he can swing his over the edge of the bed. He stands up and walks over to his dresser, opens a drawer, and pulls one out, but he doesn't open it yet.
He walks back over to the bed where I'm sitting up on my heels waiting for him and tosses it next to me. He grabs both sides of my face with his hands and lifts me off my heels to an upright kneeling position.
His eyes wander down to my lips and back up to my eyes, then he pulls me in to kiss me. It's soft and slow this time, not hurried and frantic like it was in the hallway. His hands leave my face, and I feel my shirt start to lift, so I raise my arms up as he pulls it over my head.
We're both completely rid of our clothes, and I'm pressed up against him, his hard length wedged between us. My hands on his chest move to his hair when he leans over and starts kissing my neck.
A large hand cups my breast, and his thumb grazes over my stiff peak. His lips travel further south until they're over my nipple. He sucks gently and runs his tongue over it, then moves to the other side and repeats it.
I need him inside of me, now.
I reach over, grab the condom, and unwrap it. He stands up straight and gently runs his fingertips up and down my arms as I roll it onto him.
Once it’s on all the way, he guides me onto my back again and positions himself above me. He reaches over and grabs a pillow, placing it under my hips. He runs a finger against my center and slides it in, making sure I'm still ready for him.
He confirms I am and looks into my eyes, asking that same question. I put my hand on the back of his neck, pulling his lips right over mine, and whisper, "Please just fuck me, Sam." He leans his head forward, resting his forehead on mine, then lifts his head and takes a deep breath.
He reaches down to grab the base of his cock and eases it into me. The stretch has me focusing on my breathing until I've adjusted to him. Once he's fully seated, he starts to thrust his hips, and I moan into his ear.
He continues to move his hips as I run my hands all over him, across his chest, down his arms, over his abs, and around to his back. When my arms are around him, he picks up the pace, and I sink my nails into him, moaning his name.
“Fuck…Sam.”
He reaches a hand down and gently guides one of my legs up and over his shoulder. This allows him to enter me even deeper and at a slightly different angle that sends me through the roof. I'm moaning and panting, and his thrusts get faster and harder. My pelvic muscles clamp around his cock, and it makes him come with me.
As we both finish, he grabs the back of my neck and presses his lips into mine, opening for me. As we fight for breath between kisses, he stays fully seated in me for a moment.
He pulls his lips from mine and looks at me. His hand comes up to brush the loose hair out of my face. He leaves me with one final, soft kiss before pulling out of me and lowering my leg that was over his shoulder.
He sits back and removes the condom while I lay there, still catching my breath. He lays down next to me and props his head in his hand, smiling down at me. A big grin stretches across my face; I can't believe this is happening.
I roll onto my side, facing him, and he puts his arm over me, rolling onto his back so I can comfortably lay my head on his chest. The hand that was holding his head now wraps around me, securing me to him. And his other hand gently strokes my side.
I close my eyes and take in his scent and the feel of him. We lay there for a while. I'm afraid to move, to ruin it, to lose him again.
I feel his chest vibrate under my head as he finally talks. "It’s taking you an especially long time to find that towel. Do you need my help?"
I laugh and bury my face into him. "Yes please."
We sit up, and he walks into the hallway, still naked, and returns with two towels. He walks over to the other door that leads to his attached bathroom and stops in the doorway to look back at me.
"You coming?"
I crawl off the bed to follow him into the bathroom.
It's gorgeous in here, just like the rest of the house. He told me about all the renovations he was currently working on last fall and the ones he had planned. From what I've seen of the house, pretty much everything he mentioned looks finished. He must have been working overtime this winter and spring to have finished it all.
The shower is tiled with no doors or curtains. The whole bathroom is tiled off as one big wet room, including a large soaker tub.
He sets the towels on the counter, walks over to the shower, and turns it on. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him .
"It looks great in here. The last time we talked, you were in the middle of this and your bedroom. When did you finish it all up?"
He pivots us so I'm under the stream of water and runs his hands over my head to push the now wet hair out of my face.
"I finished it in February. I actually finished the whole house."
"It looks really great."
"Yeah, but now I get kind of bored with no projects to work on."
I laugh, and he leans down to kiss my mouth.
"Well, if you need something to fill your free time, I know a girl." I wink at him.
"Oh yeah? What’s she like?"
He reaches behind me, and I hear plastic bottles rustling. His hands go to my scalp, and I can feel him massaging shampoo through my wet hair. It feels so good my eyes roll back, and I moan.
It's a good thing I still have my arms around his waist to steady me because I think my knees are about to give out. The only person who has washed my hair for me is my hairdresser, and it's not nearly as sexy as this.
"Well, she really likes whatever the fuck you're doing right now."
He boops my nose with his finger, leaving suds on the tip. I lean my head back into the water again and rinse it off. When my head comes back up, I have to blink away the extra water as it runs down my lashes.
"Well, she's incredibly sexy, and it makes me want to do things for her."
He runs his hands through my hair to rinse out the shampoo. I turn around and find the conditioner. I'm a little particular about my conditioner routine, so I put it in myself and tie my hair up to let it sit for a minute.
I take that time to fill my palm with body wash and turn back toward him. I rub it all over him in a more sexual way than necessary, but I can't help myself. I love watching him when he's turned on.
He never got fully soft after we finished, but now he's starting to get hard again.
He grabs the body wash and returns the favor, also lingering in places that don't need that much special attention in a normal shower.
Before things escalate too far, I rinse out my conditioner. When he sees I'm done, he backs me into the shower wall. The tile is cold on my back, but my body is a furnace right now, so I appreciate the temporary relief. I'm curious where he's going with this. My hips are significantly lower than his, so doing this standing is going to be nearly impossible. He must read the hesitation on my face.
"Do you trust me?"
Now I'm really curious.
"I do."
"I'm going to grab another condom, don't go anywhere."
I lift one eyebrow. "And where exactly would I go?"
He narrows his eyes at me in annoyance. "You know what I mean." He walks out of the bathroom and returns shortly with a condom.
He gets close to me again and rolls the condom over this thick length. Then he grabs my shoulders and turns me around so I'm facing the wall. I'm still curious as to where he's going with this because I don't see the solution yet.
He lifts me up under my arms, and when he sets me back down. I'm about half a foot higher than I was before. I look down to see I'm standing on a small ledge cut out in the wall. I didn't see it there before because I didn't look down.
I look behind me, and he gives me a cheeky grin.
"It's meant as a footrest for when women shave their legs, but it can serve alternate purposes."
My jaw drops, and I go back to facing the wall. He presses up behind me to support me, I suppose from slipping off the ledge. He reaches his hands between my thighs, and I part them as wide as the ledge will allow me.
His hand moves across my clit, and he sticks a finger in. When he knows I'm ready for him, he slides his cock into me from the back.
It's not nearly as deep as when I'm facing him, but it’s a new angle that hits a sweet spot, making my legs shake. He thrusts hard but controlled, trying not to let my knees bang on the wall. My calves are burning, but the pleasure is overtaking me, and I know I won't have to hold myself up much longer.
When I start to climax, I lean back into him, and he wraps his arms around me, kissing my neck. My whole body lights up with sparks, and I can't hold myself up any longer.
He eases me down from the ledge and turns me toward him, supporting my weight by throwing my arms around his neck. He grabs my thighs and wraps my legs around his waist, pressing my back against the wall.
"Are you okay to keep going?"
I nod, and with a shaky voice, I reply, "Please don't stop."
He leans in and kisses my neck, whispering in my ear, "Good girl."
He moves his hips, and the sound of our bodies slapping together echoes off the tile.
"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Lou."
He leans his forehead into my shoulder, and he comes so hard that I feel him pulsing inside of me, and it pulls another small orgasm from me. My body can't handle anything more than that; I'm too exhausted.
He sets me down on the edge of the tub, sensing that my legs would fail me. He wraps one towel around his waist and the other around my shoulders. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me back to the bed.