16. Samuel
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Samuel
Discipline. Control. Order.
I built my life around those things.
I had to. Ever since my dad left and I became the man of the house at eight years old.
Running The Foundry, keeping everything steady, making sure Kai and Adam didn’t burn the place down with their impulsiveness—I felt like it all fell on me.
And I liked it that way.
I liked being the one with his shit together.
But Sadie?
She had a way of tilting my world off its axis. Had from the moment she walked back into town with that wary smile and those big, untrusting eyes.
And now?
Watching her storm toward the exit, her chest rising and falling like she’d just sprinted a mile, cheeks flushed from too much heat—whether from anger or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure—she looked like she was one sharp word away from shattering.
I didn’t like it.
Didn’t like the way it made my stomach tighten, the way my fingers flexed with the need to reach for her, to fix whatever had her looking like that.
“Sadie,” I said, low and even.
She blinked up at me, startled, like she’d forgotten I was there.
“Samuel,” she breathed, then grimaced, eyes darting to the bar.
I followed her gaze.
Todd Rivers, smug and easygoing as ever, was still at his post, tossing a towel over his shoulder.
His eyes flicked toward Sadie and then back to me, his mouth already curling into amusement, like he knew exactly why I was standing here, looking at him like I was about to put my fist through his obnoxiously handsome face.
My fingers curled into fists.
Sadie must have noticed because she suddenly grabbed my arm, tugging me outside, toward the alley beside the bar.
“No,” she hissed. “Absolutely not.”
I barely let her pull me two steps before I stopped short, my pulse thrumming. “What did he say?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, avoiding my gaze.
I let out a slow breath, tilting my head. “Sadie.”
She huffed, shifting on her feet. “He just made some joke about me and The Foundry and—” She shook her head sharply. “I just needed some air, okay?”
Some joke.
My jaw clenched so hard it ached.
Sadie sighed, dropping her forehead against my chest before I could process what she was doing.
“Just… don’t, okay?” Her voice was muffled against my shirt. “I really don’t need you starting a fight over this.”
Something in my chest cracked.
This wasn’t a side of her I saw often. Sadie was fire and stubborn pride, all sharp edges when she wanted to be.
But right now?
Right now, she just sounded tired .
I let out a slow exhale, my fists uncurling as I lifted a hand to settle against the back of her head.
“Fine,” I murmured. “No fighting.”
She let out a breath, sinking a little against me.
“But if he says one more thing, I will put his ass through that bar.”
She groaned. “Samuel?—”
“That’s my compromise. Take it or leave it.”
A pause. Then, finally, I felt her laugh, soft and breathy against my chest.
And just like that, my world tilted back into place.
I didn’t know how long we stood there, her forehead resting against my chest, my hand cradling the back of her head like she was fragile… precious.
Too long.
Not long enough.
Finally, she sighed and pulled back, her arms slipping away from where they’d lightly gripped my shirt.
The night air had a bite to it, but she was still flushed, her hair slightly mussed from where I’d touched it.
I didn’t let myself think about that.
“Let me take you home,” I said.
She hesitated.
Her instinct was always to resist. I knew that about her now.
Knew that even when she needed someone, even when she wanted to lean, she’d rather chew glass than admit it.
But tonight, she was tired. And maybe a little bit drunk.
She let out a breath, shoulders deflating. “Yeah. Okay.”
I stepped back, just enough to let her move first, and walked her to my truck.
She slid into the passenger seat without a word.
The drive to The Foundry was quiet, the kind of quiet that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but wasn’t easy, either.
Her fingers tapped against her thigh in a restless rhythm.
I wanted to reach out, still them. Instead, I gripped the wheel tighter.
Pulling up to the back entrance, I cut the engine.
“Oh,” she said with a soft smile. “You meant your home.”
“Is that okay? No one else is in…”
She hesitated again, her gaze flicking up to the windows above us.
I could see the push and pull happening in real time, and I got it.
Things were complicated.
But there was no way she could ignore the heat between us. It’d been there since day one.
Finally, she nodded. “Yeah. That’s okay.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and got out, coming around to her side just as she opened her door.
She climbed down, a little unsteady on her feet, and I didn’t think twice before reaching for her, my hand settling against the small of her back.
She stiffened for half a second, then relaxed into it.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t make some smart-ass remark about how she didn’t need my help.
Progress.
We walked toward the back entrance, and when we reached the stairs, she hesitated again.
Her hand hovered for a moment, then, almost absently, reached for mine.
It was barely anything—her fingers brushing against mine, the lightest of touches—but it sent a sharpness through my chest.
I didn’t question it.
Didn’t push.
Just curled my fingers around hers, loose, easy.
Like I wasn’t drowning in her. Like the feel of her hand in mine wasn’t setting me on fire from the inside out.
We climbed the stairs slowly, neither of us speaking, but the air between us was charged with the feelings we’d been ignoring for too damn long.
When we reached the loft, I pushed open the door and let her step inside first.
She took a breath, her gaze sweeping over the space, her fingers still loosely tangled with mine.
Then, finally, she let go.
And fuck, I felt the loss of it.
She moved deeper into the room, standing in the middle of the loft, arms crossing tight over her chest.
I didn’t move. Not yet.
But I watched her.
Watched the way her shoulders tensed, the way her lips pressed together, like she was holding something back.
She was pissed, frustrated… maybe even a little lost.
And I wanted her.
Badly.
I stepped closer, slow enough to give her the chance to back away.
She didn’t.
“You really want to talk right now?” My voice was low, rough.
She swallowed, her throat working. “I?—”
I didn’t give her the chance to finish.
Because the second she tilted her chin up, the second she looked at me like that—like she was daring me to do something—I was done.
I closed the space between us, my hand sliding to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair. I pulled her to me, and then…
I kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. Nor careful.
It was heat and frustration, restraint finally snapping.
Sadie gasped against my lips, but she didn’t pull away.
No, she pressed closer, grabbing the front of my shirt like she was holding on for dear life.
And just like that, we were moving.
I backed her up until she hit the edge of the kitchen counter. Her hands slid up, fingers skimming my jaw, my neck, clutching like she wanted me closer.
Like she needed this just as badly as I did.
I groaned against her mouth, nipping at her lower lip, swallowing the little sound she made in response.
God, she tasted like whiskey and temptation, like something I should stay away from but couldn’t.
Her hands dropped to my belt, tugging, and I growled against her lips. “Sadie.”
“What?” She was breathless, eyes dark, cheeks flushed.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I lifted her onto the counter, stepping between her legs, dragging my hands up her thighs.
She sucked in a sharp breath when I pressed into her, and I felt it—the way she trembled, the way she wanted this just as much as I did.
“Samuel…”
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, her fingers tightening in my hair as I dragged my mouth over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
I glanced up, watching her face, the way her chest rose and fell, the anticipation written all over her.
She was stunning like this: flushed, needy, on the edge of falling apart.
I pressed a slow kiss just above the waistband of her jeans before undoing the button, taking my time.
She shivered, her breath hitching as I slid them down her legs, my fingers tracing the curve of her hips.
“Samuel,” she said again, her voice trembling.
I smirked against her skin. “I know.”
And then I leaned in and tasted her.
Sadie gasped, her head falling back against the cabinet, her thighs tensing around me.
I gripped them tighter, keeping her open, keeping her right where I wanted her.
She was already unraveling, already responding to every movement of my mouth, every flick of my tongue.
I savored the way she writhed, the way she whispered my name like she had never felt anything like this before.
And then…
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Kai’s voice slammed into the moment like a wrecking ball.
Sadie went rigid instantly, her entire body tensing under my hands.
I barely had time to lift my head before I heard Adam let out a low whistle.
“Well, shit,” he drawled, amusement lacing his tone. “Looks like we missed the party.”
I exhaled sharply, my hands still on Sadie’s thighs, frustration simmering beneath my skin.
She let out a strangled noise, her hands flying to my shoulders as if she could shove me away and pretend none of this had happened.
Kai, on the other hand, looked like he was about two seconds away from either punching me or throwing Sadie over his shoulder.
Maybe both.
I stood slowly, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, my gaze locking onto Kai’s. “You gonna stand there and stare, or you got anything to say?”
Kai’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides.
Adam, ever the chaos-loving bastard, just grinned. “I mean… we could leave,” he mused, crossing his arms. “Or…” His gaze flicked to Sadie, heated, knowing. “We could stay.”
Sadie made a sound that might have been a curse, might have been a prayer.
And suddenly, the air in the room changed.
It got heavier—charged with a sensual darkness, a powerful danger.
Something inevitable.