Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
By the time Chuck knocked and she opened the door, the hallway carried the trace of people who were already on their way out—perfume, cold air pulled in from the stairwell, and the echo of doors slammed shut.
She felt something in her chest settle the moment she saw him standing there, looking handsome in a gray sweater and blue jeans while holding his black winter coat.
His eyes held no hesitation, only delight.
“You made it,” she said, stepping aside and ushering him in.
“I wasn’t missing tonight even if it was a blizzard out there.” The forecast was only for less than an inch of the white stuff, and it would melt as soon as it hit the pavement.
He hung his coat on the rack by the door.
The apartment felt different without Diane humming in the kitchen or Teresa talking too loudly on the phone—just candles, a record turning low, and the Christmas tree still lit in the corner, that they hadn’t taken down yet.
Cozy. Private. Intimate by default. And it was the first time Marie was there alone with Chuck.
One or both of her roommates were always around when he came by.
After she put the finishing touches on their pasta dinner, they ate on the couch, hip to hip.
Conversation came in between bites and sips of wine—how his mother was doing, Marie’s residency starting on Wednesday, and the kind of fears about their futures that they didn’t admit to anyone else.
Neither tried to make anything easier than it was.
That honesty had become its own kind of glue.
At ten p.m., they cuddled together on the couch and turned the TV on to watch Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve, live from Times Square in New York.
They both shook their heads and laughed at the reported 250,000 people waiting for hours in freezing weather for the ball to drop.
“Eighteen degrees with the wind chill factor,” Chuck said. “No, thank you.”
She agreed. “Note to self—no trips to New York in the winter.”
“Hey—here’s something we didn’t cover. What’s your ultimate vacation destination?”
“New Zealand.” She didn’t need to think of her answer.
“My uncle is a pilot for Pan Am, so he gets to fly places for cheap when he’s not working.
He took my aunt there for their anniversary a few years ago, and she couldn’t stop talking about it when they got back.
The photos they took—absolutely gorgeous.
So, it’s now number one on my travel bucket list.” She tilted her head back to see his face. “What about you?”
“Anywhere you are.”
Her smile spread, and she tickled his side. “Seriously.”
“I am serious. I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“And if I said I wanted you to surprise me and go anywhere other than New Zealand, where would you take me?”
“Hmm.” He bit his bottom lip, then licked it, stirring something inside her. “Okay, you’re going to think this is funny since we’re laughing about the people in New York right now, but someday, I want to visit Norway or Iceland to see the Northern Lights.”
“Oh, wow. Count me in. That would be worth freezing my ass off.”
His arm around her shoulders squeezed gently. “I’ll keep you warm.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Over the next hour, they watched the singers, bands, and crowds on the TV and talked more during the commercial breaks.
Near eleven-thirty, she sat up, tucked her legs under her, and turned toward him.
A bit of worry fluttered in her stomach.
“You know, once I start my residency, nights like this won’t happen often. ” No apology. Just a fact.
He didn’t flinch. “Then we cherish the ones we do get. I know how important this is to you, Marie, and I’ll support you all the way.
I love you.” When her eyes widened at his declaration, he tilted his head.
“That surprises you? I’ve wanted to say that since our first date, but I figured you’d run for the hills. ”
Something in her loosened at that—not hope, but relief. She reached over and linked their fingers together. “I probably would have on our first date, but now... now it doesn’t scare me. And... Her gaze met his. “I love you too. I think I fell in love with you that night, but I was afraid...”
“Afraid I wasn’t in it for the long haul? That when times got tough, I’d disappear?”
She nodded, unable to voice her fear.
Cupping her chin, he leaned over and brushed his lips across hers, which parted at first touch, granting his tongue entry.
On the television, the crowd of strangers in Times Square grew louder as midnight drew closer, but her own pulse in her ears drowned them out. The kiss was both sweet and passionate.
When he pulled away, only a scant inch, he whispered, “This is real, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. This is where our forever begins.”
Their lips met again, and the kiss went from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. The heat rose fast, scorching like a volcanic eruption. Her fingers curled into his sweater, and she let the want she’d kept contained show itself without apology.
She broke away and rested her cheek against his. “Come to the bedroom.” It wasn’t a question. It was time they took their relationship to the next level. She trusted him, loved him, and now she would show him how much.
Standing, she caught his hand, tugged him up, and led him down the short hall.
Her pulse was steady, not shaky—she’d made more complicated decisions for less reward.
At the doorway, she turned, backing into the room, drawing him with her, utterly ready to make love to him and unwilling to pretend otherwise.
The room was dimly lit by the glow of the street lamps filtering through her sheer white curtains. She didn’t bother to lower the shades. No one could see them anyway with the lights off.
Stopping beside the bed, she grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it up and over her head, dropping it to the floor. Chuck inhaled sharply, the sound rough and real, like she’d knocked the air out of him. His gaze roamed her body, desire flaring like a wildfire in his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
That seemed to be all he needed to hear.
A split second later, his sweater joined hers on the floor, and he closed the distance between them.
He reached her in two strides, one hand at her waist, the other in her hair, as their hungry mouths collided again.
The kiss turned deeper—hot and demanding, with no hesitation left between them.
She felt the weight of his body press hers backward onto the mattress, their breaths overlapping, urgency rising with nowhere else to go.
Her fingers slid over his shoulders to his back, mapping his skin as he lowered himself over her, bracing one arm beside her head. In that moment, nothing else existed. There was only his mouth, body, and hands, and the deliberate way he touched her like he planned to remember every inch of her.
He kissed his way down her neck, pulled the cups of her bra down below her breasts, and began to knead her flesh and feast on her sensitive nipples. She cried out in pleasure, squirming to work her hands behind her back to find the bra clasp. Releasing it, she tossed the black, lacy garment aside.
Resting his chin on her sternum for a moment, he said, “You’ll tell me if I do something that hurts you or you don’t like, okay?”
She swallowed hard, falling harder for him with each second that passed. “Yes, but I trust that you won’t.”
“God, you humble me.”
As she ran her hands through his thick, dark hair, he kissed and licked his way down her body with unhurried care that only made her pulse quicken. When he reached the waistband of her pants, he lifted his chin and met her gaze, waiting.
She didn’t answer out loud. Instead, she brought her fingers to the button and zipper and opened them for him.
He resumed his sweet torture, his hands firm and deliberate, easing the fabric down and replacing it with his mouth. Time slowed and sped up, alternating like she was caught in a vortex of sensation and passion that he controlled.
She sat up and tugged at his belt, needing them both naked. He shed the rest of her clothes and then his own before he climbed back over her, skin to skin, heat layering over heat. Instinct took over where thought stopped.
They were a tangle of limbs, alternating between him being on top and then her. Pillows were knocked to the floor, and the comforter and sheets became a wrinkled mess. Hands and mouths slid over salt-slicked skin.
Nothing about it felt fast. Nothing felt unsure.
This was a choice she was fully awake for.
His fingers went to the apex of her legs and found her drenched. Her back arched when he eased one, then two digits inside her. She panted and begged as he drove her out of her mind with intense pleasure. “Chuck... please! Oh, please!”
His lips brushed over her ear. “Please, what, Doc? Make you come? Make you scream? Ruin you for any other man?”
“Yes! Yes, all of that!”
“With pleasure.”
He moved down on the bed and settled between her legs. His tongue lashed her clit rapidly while he finger fucked her. The orgasm hit her with the force of a tidal wave, sending her spiraling. Her body shook, and she screamed his name, not caring who heard.
When she collapsed back against the sheets, gasping for air, her heartbeat was a violent drum in her ears.
The bed dipped, and she heard something thump on the floor.
Lifting her head, she saw Chuck’s wallet in his hand and guessed the noise had been his belt buckle.
He retrieved a condom from a pocket before setting the wallet on her nightstand.
He tore open the condom, but she snatched it before he could put it on.
She wanted the honor of doing that—to feel him quake beneath her touch.
With him kneeling between her splayed legs, she sat up and took his cock in her hand.
His sharp inhalation made her smirk as she glanced up at him.
She’d only had sex with three other men since turning eighteen, and each had been a boyfriend for a few months.
So she had enough experience to know how to please a man.
But she never knew what it felt like to make love until now.
When she squeezed his cock harder, running her thumb over the tip, he grabbed her chin and let out a low growl. “Put that thing on me because I’m hanging on by a thread, sweetheart. You can play later.”
Loving how he took command, she did as she was told.
Seconds later, she was flat on her back with him sliding inside her.
His mouth took possession of hers as his hips thrust forward.
Her body opened like a flower for him, and it wasn’t long before he found a rhythm that had her climbing in ecstasy again.
He sped up, losing control. They both tensed and cried out, climaxing as one into a sea of hedonistic bliss.
Afterward, they lay in the hush that follows passion—not awkward or rushed, just breathing in the same space.
He put his arm around her, pulling her close until her head rested on his shoulder.
The television in the other room kept talking to an empty couch.
Midnight had come and gone without either of them watching the year turn over.
She traced a line along Chuck’s arm, slow and thoughtless. He didn’t move away. He stayed, holding her close.
In three days, everything she knew about her life would tilt again—sleepless nights, pagers, and the constant strain of being watched, judged, and tested.
And here was a man with every reason to pull back—a dying mother, a successful career, and an easier life without someone whose work had to come first. Yet he still wanted to be with her.
That—more than the kiss or the sex or the steady way he held her now—was what lodged under her ribs. He hadn’t asked her to make room for him. He’d simply claimed the place that she knew was already his.
“This is going to get difficult,” she said quietly.
His hand settled at the small of her back, firm and comforting, and he kissed the top of her head. “We already knew that. And I’m still not going anywhere, Doc.”
She closed her eyes and let his words anchor her—not a promise of ease or a guarantee of forever, just a decision to try to make their relationship work. She didn’t know how long it would last or what it might cost, only that she had let it begin.
USA Today Bestselling Author Samantha Cole is a retired police officer and paramedic who now writes heart-pounding romance in multiple forms—MF, MM, and ménage. From military heroes to rugged cowboys and small-town heat, her stories blend passion, loyalty, and danger in perfect balance.