Chapter 7
Clicking off the lights to the Employee Only game room, Sam asks, “Are you excited to dock tomorrow?” He weaves his fingers through mine, leading me out the door as he locks it behind us.
“I think so, but to be honest, I’d rather stay on the ship and avoid my family.”
“Why’s that?” he asks, guiding us down the hall.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, tell me,” he urges, planting his feet and tugging me back to him.
“We just…” I huff, not wanting to put a damper on the rest of the night from thinking about them. “We don’t get along.”
“Need me to kick some ass?” He wiggles his eyebrows, a devilish grin on his handsome face.
“No,” I reply. Then I think of Tyler and Liam, and how they’ll undoubtedly go out of their way to ruin the rest of my trip after last night. “Well…actually…” I quirk.
Sam’s hand grips a doorknob to his right, and my insides seize with anticipation. This must be his room. “Just say the word, pretty girl, and I’ll throw them from the stern.”
“Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes, attempting to hide my smile.
“You doubt me? I’m wounded.”
“Sure you are,” I say, thick with sarcasm. Something gleams in his eye as he twists the door knob and swings it open. A wall of obsidian shadow lays before us, swallowing up the light coming from the hall. “Where are you taking me?” I wobbly ask.
“I just have to grab some things from my locker, and drop off the keys. Care for a behind the scenes tour?”
I hesitate. Warning bells ringing in my mind. Maybe the night should end here. He gently tugs on our joined hands, but it's my feet that are planted in place this time.
Sensing my trepidation, he says, “What’s the matter? Scared of the dark or something?”
Scared of the dark? No.
Wary of dark places with men who are essentially strangers? Yes.
“No, I’m not scared of the dark.”
“Then it’s me you’re scared of?”
“Not exactly…”
“You should be scared,” he breathes, closing in on me.
“W-what?”
“Scared of every dirty, depraved thing I’m going to do to you once I have you all to myself.” His warm hand slips between my thighs, palming me possessively between the legs. And, fuck, it melts away the fear. My pussy prepping to take him all over again.
“Let’s go,” I rasp, mouth dry.
“What was that?”
“I said, ‘let’s go’.”
“Changing your tune so quickly? Why’s that?” He lazily grins, satisfaction painted all over his stupid gorgeous face.
“Shut up,” I grumble, stepping towards the darkness.
The guts of the ship are abandoned, footsteps echoing down each corridor as Sam weaves us through a labyrinth of halls. How he knows where he’s going when everything looks the exact same, I have no idea. I’m positive I’d be lost down here for days with my poor sense of direction.
“So, when did you get the tattoo?” Sam asks, breaking the comfortable silence between us.
“It was the first thing I bought myself when I turned eighteen.” With his fingers still threaded through mine, lower into the ship we descend. Until the fully finished areas are long gone and the smell of wet steel fills the air.
“And you’re what… twenty-one…twenty-two now?” Sam opens a heavy metal door, the hum of machinery filling the air.
It occurs to me that we never had that talk. The one where I make sure this fling is age appropriate. However, I also don’t care. He’s clearly older than me, and the chemistry is bananas.
The ocean waves slap against the ship, reverberating through the metal, as the rudder sound is near deafening. I nod my reply, choosing to refrain from yelling in case other coworkers of his are close by.
Sam pauses next to another door, releasing my hand to push it open.
It leads into a weirdly pristine white locker room, and I can’t help but wish the bathroom upstairs was this immaculate.
“So, those two from earlier didn’t know you had a tattoo, or what?
” He swings open a dark grey locker to the right of the door, grabbing a backpack.
He empties his pockets into it, along with some things off the top shelf of the locker.
“No, the only one who knows is Chelsea. Although, I’m sure my demon of a stepbrother told everyone about it by now.”
“Why hide it?”
“It just wasn’t worth the headache. I’m already the disappointment in the family, a tattoo is just another thing for them to complain about.” Sam nods, seemingly understanding me without further explanation.
Looking down to the bag hanging from his hand, he zips it up with the other.
His blue eyes raise to mine as he swings the sack over his shoulder.
He abruptly yanks me closer, crashing my chest against his.
“One more stop, then you’re all mine,” he growls, assaulting me with a searing kiss.
He links our fingers once more before dragging me out the door.
By the fourth flight of stairs I’m trying to hide my laboured breathing and the stitch in my side. Sam appears unaffected. Probably having made this trek countless times before.
“So…” Oh gods, he wants to talk now? “What’s the deal between you and your stepbrother? Long running sibling rivalry or something?”
I heave in a deep breath, slowing my pace even more while I exhale quietly. “Uh… It’s not so much a rivalry as it is a deep-seated hatred.”
Sam’s eyes sweep over me, respectfully ignoring the red flush of my skin and the drip of sweat running down my hair line. “Is there a reason for this hatred?”
“I don’t know what his problem is with me, he’s just always had one.
And I can’t stand what an asshole he is.
” Sam gives me this look. Like he knows there’s more to the story and I should just tell him before he has to try and coax it out of me.
I inhale and exhale another steadying breath, while we walk side by side.
Reaching the top of the flight, we turn to head up another staircase.
I die inside as my legs ache, thick thighs rubbing together beneath the dress.
At least I can see the calm ocean surface through the port holes now.
“He’s relentlessly bullied me since my dad and his mom got together.
” Despite the quiet tone of my voice, I can hear it echo around the metal stairwell.
“It got worse when they moved in. Then Liam showed up, became infatuated with Chelsea, and basically never left. Joining in with Tyler on my hazing to secure himself a spot next to Chelsea for as long as their friendship lasted.”
“He’s an idiot, they both are. You’re a joy to be around.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks heat further as a smile pulls at my lips. Sam swings our joined hands back and forth in an over exaggerated manner, skipping up the steps and forcing me to follow.
His goofiness lifts my mood, but his rolling question sends it shooting right back down.
“What about your mom?”
“She’s gone. Car accident when I was young.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay, not like you could have known.” This fucking walk is taking forever. Where the hell else could we possibly have to go? The moon? The climb seems endless. “Want to hear something fucked up?”
“Always,” he beams, clearly unaware I’m not steering the conversation away from this morbid shit.
“Chelsea thinks Michelle killed our mother.”
His puzzled face observes mine. “Michelle is your stepmother?”
I nod. “Step-monster.”
Sam chuffs a small laugh. “Why does she think this?”
“She was seven when they split, and claims to remember their fights. My dad was seeing another woman.”
“How old were you?”
“Five.”
“And you don’t remember anything?”
“I remember the yelling, and then drowning it out with cartoons.”
“What’s her theory?”
“That Michelle fucked with my mom’s car after my dad ended it with her.
Chelsea says the fighting became less and less, then stopped altogether.
Everything went back to normal for a short time, then my mom was just gone.
Police said she fell asleep at the wheel after working a double shift at the hospital, and collided with oncoming traffic. ”
“Shit,” he says, exhaling loudly.
We pause on the next landing, and he squeezes me in an overly tight hug. “I’m sorry.”
“You said that,” I joke.
Sam squeezes me tighter, forcing the air from my lungs. “I mean it,” he replies, voice heavy with something I can’t place.
This dreary presence hangs over us like a shroud, and I wish I could retract everything I just said, go back to being silly with Sam.
Wiggling against him, I gain enough freedom to glance up at him. He seems lost in thought, staring out the window. Salt water laps against the hull, its sound calming as I enjoy his embrace. “How much farther?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Almost there,” he responds, taking my hand in his once again, and leading us up the next set of steps.
My legs burn from the exertion of climbing from the belly of the ship to the captain’s perch at the top of the vessel. I wait outside the space while Sam slips in through the door, conversing quietly with the captain who regards me slowly…uncomfortably.
The cool breeze provided by the starry night sweeps across my skin, and I sway on my feet. I’m going to be a dead lay if I don’t wrangle myself up some energy.
Finally, Sam emerges. “Ready?”
“Yeah,” I reply around a yawn.
He wraps his arm around my semiconscious body, aiding my descent toward the main deck. Sam leans in close, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “If you fall asleep, I’m still going to fuck you.”
His words register in my sleepy brain, and my eyes fly open.
Lust shoots through my system as I whip my head in his direction.
He lets out a hearty laugh while my heart thumps in my clit.
“I thought that might wake you up,” he chuckles.
“Though…I expected to be smacked for it, not have you be into it.” His teeth shine in the moonlight as his eyes darken.
Fuck, I think I’ve found my perfect match.
“I’m not—” Sam cuts me off with a look. One that says, ‘yeah, right. I bet I could effortlessly slide inside you right now if I wanted to’. He’s right. I huff. “Make fun all you want, but you’re the one who brought it up.”
Casually, I follow his lead across the deck. Sam opens the door to the main hall, holding it open for me to pass through. Such a gentleman. “The only thing I’ll be making fun of is you squealing like a pig when I shove my cock so deep inside you it tears you from your dreams.”
My insides clench as I sweep my gaze down the hall. Thankfully, there’s no one around to hear the filth that pours from his lips. “You can’t just say shit like that,” I hiss.
“Why not?”
Because I’m ill-prepared. I’ve never experienced it before, and every time he drops a bomb like that it cinches something inside me tighter. But I don’t say that, instead I reply, “Because it’s inappropriate.”
“How so?” His grin is feral as he cocks his brow. “No one is around to hear me. So, tell me, Rosie. Why can’t I be honest with you?”
I flounder like a fish out of water as I pass by him. He makes a good fucking point and it dismantles any argument I had hastily scraped together.
“Perhaps it’s because you like it? Hmmm?” he rumbles, coming up behind me, whispering tauntingly. "In fact, I think you like it so much, it’s slicking up your thighs.”
“N-no,” I rasp. Even as I lie through my teeth, with each step the wetness coats my skin.
“Liar,” he breathes against my nape.
I shiver in his hold as his lips meet that sensitive spot below my ear. “Room 306,” he whispers. “Run.”