34. Kim
T he antiseptic smell of the hospital waiting room burns my nostrils as I pace back and forth, my heart hammering against my ribs. Each step echoes off the stark white walls, a rhythm that matches the frantic beating in my chest.
"Damn you, Sam," I mutter under my breath. "You better pull through this."
My fingers twist the hem of my shirt, wringing it until the fabric protests. The image of Sam jumping in front of me, the sound of the gunshot - it all replays in my mind on a cruel loop. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories away.
How can he get hurt when I needed to tell him something? This is just like Sam. I give him a few internal curses for good measure.
I swear the longer I pace this room, the more it feels like my heart is going to pound out of my chest. I realize I love the bastard and he goes and gets himself shot.
"Mr. Warwick is out of surgery," a voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.
I whirl around, nearly colliding with a doctor in blue scrubs. "Is he okay? Can I see him?"
The doctor's lips quirk into an amused smile. "He's going to be fine. Though I must say, Mr. Warwick was quite... insistent about seeing you. He threatened to, and I quote, 'buy this whole damn hospital and fire everyone' if we didn't bring you to him immediately."
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, surprising even me. It's so quintessentially Sam - arrogant, demanding, and completely over-the-top. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a confusing mix of relief and lingering fear.
"That sounds like him," I manage to say, my voice thick with emotion.
The doctor nods, gesturing for me to follow. "He's still under anesthesia, but you can sit with him if you'd like."
We walk down a corridor that seems to stretch on forever. My heart races with each step, anticipation and dread warring within me. Finally, we reach a room, and the doctor pushes open the door.
The sight of Sam, lying motionless in the hospital bed, nearly brings me to my knees. His skin is paler than usual, making the dark stubble on his jaw stand out in stark contrast.
I approach the bed slowly, afraid that any sudden movement might somehow hurt him. My hand hovers over his, wanting to touch him but hesitating.
"Oh, Sam," I whisper, finally allowing my fingers to brush against his. His skin is warm, alive, and I let out a shaky breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "You stupid, reckless man. What were you thinking?"
"I told you," he wheezes, his eyes fluttering like he's answering me even though he’s unconscious. "I will never let anything hurt you."
I gasp, relief flooding through me as Sam's eyes flutter open. Without thinking, I throw my arms around him, pulling him close.
"Oof," Sam grunts, his breath warm against my ear. "Easy there, little dancer."
I try to pull back, worried I've hurt him, but his arms tighten around me, dragging me on top of his body. "Don't you dare move," he murmurs, his voice rough with pain and something else. "The only thing I can't stand is being away from you."
I snuggle into his side, glad because I can't stomach being away from him right now either. His hand slides down to my hip, and he frowns. "What the hell is digging into my side?"
I freeze as he reaches into the pocket of my dress, pulling out the small velvet box. His eyes widen, and he looks up at me, a question in his gaze.
"Kim," he says slowly, "why do you have this?"
My heart hammers in my chest. It's now or never. I cradle his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over the stubble on his cheeks. "Because I love you, you idiot," I blurt out. "You're completely insane, and I must be too, because I want to marry you. God help me, but I do."
For a moment, Sam just stares at me, his gray eyes searching mine. Then, his face breaks into a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He pulls me down, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that steals my breath away.
When we finally part, both panting, he grins up at me. "You know," he says, his voice low and teasing, "you were going to marry me either way."
I can't help but laugh, shaking my head at his arrogance. "You're impossible," I tell him, but there's no heat in my words.
"Impossibly in love with you," he counters, pulling me close again.
As I melt into his embrace, I realize that this is it. This crazy, infuriating, wonderful man is my future. And somehow, I'm okay with that.
I pluck the ring box from his hand, pulling out the stunning diamond that I instantly fell in love with. Sliding it on my hand, I hold it up in front of us, sighing softly.
"Looks fucking good," he mumbles, his hand tracing up and down my side.
I smile. "Sure does."
"That's not the only thing that does." I look up to see his eyes on me. Sam's hands slide up my back, pulling me closer to him. His lips find mine, and I can taste the desperation in his kiss. He trails his mouth down my neck, nipping at my skin. "Fuck, Kim," he growls, "I was so goddamn worried when I thought you were going to get shot."
I slap his chest, making him grunt. "I'm not the one hurt here," I remind him, trying to sound stern, but my voice comes out breathy.
"You're right," he concedes, his fingers tracing circles on my lower back. "You should make it up to me."
Before I can protest, his teeth graze my neck, and I have to clench my legs. I can feel him growing hard beneath me, and I know he's testing my resolve. "Sam," I scold him, "you're healing."
He gives me a wicked grin. "Then you'll have to make sure I don't move too much."
My heart races at the thought, and I can feel the wetness between my legs. I glance around the hospital room, suddenly aware of the risk we're taking. "We could get caught," I whisper.
Sam's eyes darken, and he smirks. "Then you'll have to be really fucking good to make it fast."
The thrill of the challenge sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. I lean down to kiss his chest, my fingers finding the waistband of his underwear, his other clothes already gone. He hisses as I pull them down, exposing his hard cock.
I kneel between his legs, my hands gripping his thighs. I glance up at him, my eyes meeting his. "Ready?" I ask, a smirk playing on my lips.
Sam's eyes are hooded, his breathing heavy. "Fuck yes," he growls.
I take him in my mouth, my tongue swirling around the tip of his cock. He groans, his hands tangling in my hair. I can feel his muscles tense beneath me, and I know I need to be quick.
"That's my girl." His hips jut up. "That's my fucking girl."
I moan at his words, and he grunts as the vibration surrounds his cock. I move my mouth up and down his shaft, my hand working in tandem. Sam's breathing becomes ragged, and I can feel him getting closer. I redouble my efforts, my tongue flicking against the sensitive spot just below the head of his cock.
With a growl, Sam comes, his fingers tightening in my hair. I swallow, my own arousal building. I pull away, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
Sam's eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Fuck, Kim," he pants. "A bullet was fucking worth it."
I smile, leaning down to kiss him. "Glad I could help," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sam chuckles, his arms wrapping around me. "You sealed your fate with that one," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. "I'm never letting you go."
I snuggle into his embrace, my heart swelling with love for this infuriating, arrogant man. Despite everything, I know I wouldn't have it any other way.