[Truyện Tiếng Anh] Blissful Surrender

Blissful Surrender
Blissful Surrender Page 11



I couldn’t take my eyes off her. From the moment I’d seen her across the club, I knew that I’d have her tonight. With my hand firmly gripping her hip, and the other braced on the wall beside her head, I caged her in, bringing my body in close to hers without touching. I focused on the heat raging between us, the unspoken promise of a night full of passion and satisfaction. This moment was partly to make it known that she was safe with me, but also to keep her off balance.

Moving my hand from the door, I pulled out my gold VIP key from my pocket and unlocked the door behind me. Wrapping my arm around her back, I eased the door open, guiding her body backwards into the room while slamming my mouth down onto hers. This time she met me stroke for stroke. We both lost ourselves in the kiss—sensual, erotic, and hot as f**king hell.

A growl rumbled in my chest as she tightened her grip in my hair, fisting the strands as if her life depended on it and I was her anchor. My lust soared and before I knew it the door was slammed shut behind us and her back was flat against it as I devoured every inch of exposed skin—her neck, her collarbone, that delightful spot below a woman’s ear that has them trembling every single time.

Mustering all the self-control I had, I ripped my mouth away from her, nipping a trail along her jaw before reaching her ear, deciding it was time to tell her exactly what I had planned for our time together. “You’re so f**king hot, baby doll. I can’t wait to have your ass warm from my hand. To have you laid out before me, begging to be f**ked.”

I trailed my tongue down her neck, sinking my teeth into the delicate skin of her neck. There was something about Mac that pushed all my Dom buttons. The moment that I felt her body melt into mine, submitting to me, I soared. I murmured my appreciation of her body, promising to make her come hard, multiple times, promises I had every intention of following through on. I slipped my fingers between the mesh fabric of her dress, sweeping it slowly down her shoulder, drawing out the experience for both of us, exposing the expanse of her creamy skin to my hungry gaze. I followed suit with the other shoulder until the dress pooled at her feet, following the trail of the material with soft nips and open mouth kisses down her arm and back up again until I could use my tongue to trace a wet line across the curve of her surging br**sts. Drawing out this part of a scene always amped up the anticipation for both of us, and Mac was as much about anticipation and delayed gratification as I was. At this stage she was gasping, her breaths coming out in short pants. It was f**king ***y to see a woman so responsive to my touch, my mouth, and it only bode well for the moment I sunk my c**k eight inches deep inside of her.

“Hands on the door. Don’t move,” I commanded as I dragged my hands up to cradle her bare br**sts, swiping my thumbs across her straining ni**les through the silky material covering them. Mac’s raspy moan echoed around the room like erotic music to my ears. “****ing beautiful, baby doll,” I murmured low and deep, hooking my fingers inside the corset and roughly pulling it down, exposing her naked br**sts to my feasting eyes. With a lack of control I could not rationalize at the time, I dipped my mouth to taste her skin before sucking the straining peaks deeply into my mouth, raking my teeth gently against the sensitive skin.

Arching her back into my hands and mouth, I pressed her hard nub firmly between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, increasing the pressure until I heard a gratifying moan. I pulled away, moving a few steps back and staring at her, my eyes half open and full of heat as I took the opportunity to take her in.

“We need to get these clothes off,” I spat out before grabbing her dress gathered at her waist and tugging it down her legs until she was left standing half naked in front of me. My mouth watered. Left in nothing but the ***iest corset I’d ever seen and strappy black heels, she was just as exquisite as I knew she’d be.

Then as luck would have it, my night got even better when she lost her head and pulled her hands off the door, forgetting my command to leave them there. Wrapping her arms around my shoulders, she pulled her body tight against mine. Unable to resist, I buried my mouth in her neck and trailed one hand down the side of her body, gliding past her hip before finding my target, the warm soaking wet crevice between her legs.

“Oh, baby doll, you’re so wet for me. Such a shame that you disobeyed,” I said, my voice low and menacing. “My hand is going to warm your ass until you’re begging me to be inside you.” She moaned encouragingly and I had to reel the desire to busy myself deep inside her then and there.

Not leaving her any time to absorb what I’d just promised to do to her, I grabbed her hand and led her over to the black leather, one-seater chair. I sat down, leaving her standing naked before me. My c**k was pulsing hard against my slacks and I didn’t miss Mac licking her lips at the sight. As her eyes traveled down my body, I cleared my throat, causing her eyes to snap back to mine. I couldn’t hold back a grin; my affect on her was written all over her face. She wanted this just as much if not more than I did, and f**k, if that wasn’t the ***iest thing I’d seen in a long time.

“Now would be the time to change your mind, Mac. Otherwise, in less than thirty seconds I’m going to have your bare ass lying across my lap, and my hand stinging from the hard spanking I intend to give you,” I stated, quirking my brow in an unspoken challenge.

What happened after that proved to me that Mac was every bit the submissive I’d hoped she’d be. She acquiesced beautifully, the giving over of her body and mind to me all the more gratifying. It was a gift that I honored every time we were together in the twelve months following.

She reminds me a lot of my Sammy actually. When Mac and I were together, she bloomed under my strong hand and commanding nature. She told me once that it was one of the most powerful releases she had ever had, and she relished the freedom she felt by walking into my private room at the club and leaving all decisions at the door. The only decision she had to make was putting her hand in mine the first night we met. Something she did willingly. It was ***y as hell.

What made me more proud was when Makenna called me over to her house to let me know that she had finally let herself fall for a man, something she had previously never allowed herself to do. Our relationship was never about a long term commitment. There were no feelings beyond friendship and healthy ***ual chemistry.

But now, seeing my Sammy has me contemplating taking my own advice, the same guidance I gave Makenna eight months ago.

“Whatever happened in the past belongs in the past. Learn from it, grow, and move on. Don’t let it determine your future.”

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If my parents’ deaths taught me anything, it was that life can change on the turn of a dime so you have to live it like it could be your last day on earth.

If only it were that easy.

Chapter 6: “Playing With My Heart”

Sam

I’ve had two glorious days off work after a six shift stint. Two days that included me sleeping off a rather large hangover in Helen and Rico’s guest room for half a day, then the other half of yesterday was spent having a mental health day on my couch watching television cop dramas. Yeah, I know. Don’t ask!

Now, it’s my second day off, my last before I return to work, and wouldn’t you know it, I can’t sleep in for the life of me. It’s 10 a.m. and I’ve been up for at least a few hours. First, I put on my running gear and go to work out in Lincoln Park. Then I grab a cleansing smoothie from my favorite café and get home thirty minutes later, planting myself on the wooden stool at my kitchen counter to read the newspaper. I know I can read it online, and a lot of people probably do, but there is something about the smell of a broadsheet newspaper … the smudging of the newsprint on your fingers, the folding of page after page giving you that indescribable smell that’s full of memories, moments in time you’ll never forget.

From my place in my small kitchen, I start hearing a weird vibrating type noise coming from my bedroom. I have a moment of sheer horror flash before my eyes then I remember that

a) I live alone.

b) I’m a thirty-two year old woman, so who the f**k cares that I have three vibrators, one vibrating egg, and a vibrating pair of underwear that Helen bought me on a dare.

c) I didn’t use my ******* collection last night because I fell asleep on the couch in the middle of Castle.

d) The noise is not going away by me sitting here considering all the different vibrating toys I have in my top right drawer.

Right …

I jump up and run into my bedroom just as the noise stops. What the f**k! Now I’ll never know. I scan my room for anything suspicious and come up empty.

Then the noise starts again. I drop to my hands and knees, crawling around looking for the source of the ghost vibration, and giggling because now I’m thinking of what happens to *******s after they die.

Helen would have a field day with this conversation.

I realize the sound is coming from my bed, so pulling back the comforter to an empty bed, I lift my pillows to find my phone vibrating like a kid at Christmas. I lunge for the phone and roll over onto my back at the same time, feeling pretty good about my ability to answer the call and do a side roll at the same time.

“Hello?”

“Sam, is that you?” I hear a deep male voice rumble down the phone. My heart stutters for a minute before he continues. “It’s Ryan. Sorry, did I disturb you? I called before, but there was no answer.”

I let out the breath I was holding in. Why was I suddenly hoping it was Sean? Why would Sean ring me anyway?

Oh ****, Ryan’s waiting. “Hey, Ryan, sorry, how are you feeling?”

“I’m a little better.”

“That’s great, Ry. Glad to hear it,” I reply, not hiding my happiness at his recovery. He definitely had me worried last time I saw him at the hospital. Unfortunately, it wasn’t his physical recovery I was most worried about.

“Yeah. Hey, listen … I’m at the hospital and they’re discharging me today. I need a favor.”

A lot of thoughts rush through my head. What if he wants me to look after him? Or needs me to do something illegal? Would he ask me to do something illegal? It’s bad enough that he told me in very vague terms that the break in at the club was most likely just something made to look like a robbery. What’s done is done though, and if I have information pertaining to a crime that may or may not have taken place, as an officer of the law it’s my duty to pass that information on. Which is exactly what I’ll do in the morning when I go and speak to the detectives investigating the case.

“You still there, Sammy?” he asks when I go silent.

“Yeah, Ry, just waiting to hear what you need.”

“I hate to ask but …” he hesitates, making me more anxious. I don’t realize that I’m gripping the phone tightly until the plastic exterior starts digging into my skin. “Um, are you able to give me a ride from the hospital? I, uh, I can’t ring Sean and I, uh, haven’t got my wallet or keys on me because everything was at the club when I got brought in.”

Oh, thank you, Lord!

“Oh, sure, Ryan. Of course. What time do you need me?”

“An hour? Is that okay?”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you in the waiting room in about an hour then?”

His voice loses its tightness and he’s back to sounding relaxed and worry-free (for the moment anyway). “Thanks, Sammy. I knew I could count on you.”

“See you soon, Ry.” I end the call and drop my phone onto my pillow beside me. Am I living in some alternate dimension all of a sudden?

Is this like Lost Season 6 where there was a parallel universe and there are really two Sams? ’Cause if there are and she’s in the past … god, there is some advice I’d like to give Alternate Sam on her future and the decisions she’s due to make.

For our first date, Sean had told me to wear something comfortable. It was a Saturday lunch date and he’d told me nothing about his plans, so I’d dressed in a pair of tight, black, hip-hugging jeans and a white graphic tee that I’d picked up from a vintage store a few weeks earlier. I finished off the look with a rainbow colored scarf draped once around my neck with the ends hanging down. Hey, cut me some slack, it was 2003 you know!

Sean arrived a few minutes early, knocking on my dorm room door just before lunch. When I opened the door to greet him, I had to take a few moments to catch my breath. He’d gelled his hair into a ***y as hell faux hawk and had paired a crisp green polo shirt with a pair of loose fitting khaki pants. Think Justin Timberlake in his early solo days and you’d be right on the money. Suddenly I wasn’t feeling nervous about the date, but I was keen to race out the door before my best friend and roommate Helen could see him and start drooling. And to be honest, I wanted to be seen in public with the man who looked like *** on legs.

You see, having been avidly pursued by Sean for the weeks beforehand, I was excited about the date. In fact, I’d been a bouncing hot mess of anticipation all week. Helen was about ready to lace my water with downers just to get me off my high. But nothing was bringing me down, not even calls from my mother wondering why I had only gotten an A- on a term paper could dull my shine.

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“Bye, Helen,” I called out to her from the doorway.

“Hey slapper, wait a minute. I want to check out that fine piece of … oh, ****! Hi.” Her face turned a hilarious shade of bright red as she rounded the door to come face to face with a now grinning Sean Miller.

“Hi. Helen is it?” he said, holding out his hand to hers. Even at twenty-two, Sean was all about manners and treating others right. It was the old fashioned values that his grandparents had instilled in him, following the foundation built by his parents before they died.

“Y-Yes. Hi. Sorry, I suffer from a debilitating con***ion called verbal vomit. Don’t hold it against me. Well, unless you want to …”

I whack her arm and laugh. “Helen!” I chastise but still can’t stop laughing. “Sorry, Sean, let’s get out of here before her con***ion worsens.”

“Bye. Have fun, children. Don’t rush home.” She smiled a **** eating grin, all the while waggling her eyebrows at me before I scoffed and shut the door behind us.

When we reached street level, Sean grabbed my hand and entwined his fingers in mine. Such a simple, straightforward, everyday gesture but it got the butterflies in my stomach excited all over again.

“Do you mind walking for a bit?” he asked assuredly. There is one thing that Sean never showed the world, and that was uncertainty. He was always so black and white, yes or no, left or right. It’s one of the things that made me give in to this date. He was stubborn and tenacious like a dog with a bone. He would not let up until I relented and agreed to a date.

We walked for about ten minutes, stopping outside Shedd Aquarium. “Oh, wow. Is this where we’re going?” I asked excitedly.

He chuckled and pulled my hand, drawing my body in close to his. “I wanted to wow you with a first date you’d never forget. First stop, the aquarium,” he replied with a smile.

“This is awesome. I’ve never been.” I couldn’t stop grinning as we walked inside, Sean paid for our tickets and we spent the next two hours exploring the stunning sea creatures and exhibits.

By the time we walked out, it was nearing 3 p.m. and my stomach was growling loudly. Embarrassing! Thankfully Sean was one step ahead of me, leading me into a Mexican restaurant nearby.

“I hope you like some heat,” he murmured suggestively as he pulled out a chair for me.

“Well, how hot can you handle it, Sean?”

Pushing in my chair, he bent down low until his breath fanned over my ear. “I want it as hot as you can give me.” I clenched my thighs as my breathing became stuttered and the room turned into an inferno.

Thankfully, a waiter interrupted our verbal foreplay, but the seed had been planted.

When he walked me to my door a while later, I was reluctant to end our date. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the sparks between us were strong and addictive, and every time I looked at the man I wanted to jump his bones.

Standing at my door, I turned around. “Thank you for this afternoon. I had an awesome day with you.”

Lifting our still joined hands, he pulled me toward his body, wrapping his other arm around my back and holding me close against him. Gasping in shock, his eyes bored into mine, piercing me in place with such passion that I was speechless. When his gaze dropped to my mouth, I was done for. No one else mattered at that moment. It was just Sean and I standing outside my door, about to kiss for the first time.

As he tilted his chin down and softly started to kiss me, I knew that there was no way in hell I was going to be able to say no to this man again.

I jump up off the bed, pulling my clothes off as I head into my bathroom. I turn the rainfall shower head on, one of the first things I installed when I bought my apartment, and do my daily ritual in the mirror:

1) Check for any new gray hairs. (sigh)

2) Make sure I’m not following the path of my grandmother with stray lip and chin whiskers (definitely not a family tra***ion I wish to follow).

When the glass fogs and the room fills with steam, I step into the shower. As I wash myself with my coconut body scrub, my mind wanders back to a time when Sean was my conductor and I was nothing but a violin in his orchestra. He’d been more than upfront with me from the beginning about his dominating ways when it came to ***. I wasn’t too surprised to be honest. It was something about the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, his voice and how it felt like it could reach inside you and play you like a puppet. We complimented each other beautifully but no more so than during ***. The man could light my body on fire like no one else. In fact, no one since has made me feel anything even closely resembling the intense passion that pulsed between us.

Without realizing it, my soapy hands had wandered, becoming acutely aware of my throbbing lady garden …

Yes, I said lady garden. Isn't it ***y?

Have you ever wondered what you’d call your vagina if you had a choice? Would you call it a name like Gretel or Elizabeth? Or would you give it a term of endearment like petal or sweetheart? Do you think like a man and call it a c*nt or a pu**y? Or are you like me who had a somewhat conservative upbringing with a controlling Army mom who wouldn’t hear of anything other than ‘lady parts’ and ‘man parts’. Yes, you read that right. ‘Never let a stranger tend to your garden, Samantha’ she’d say to me. Looking back, it’s a wonder that I ever got laid.

Subconsciously, my fingers stroke over my sensitized skin as I remember all that was good about my Sean of a decade ago. The way he’d let his stubble grow a day too long and how he knew how much I loved the rasp of the coarse hair against my skin as he worked his way down my body, drawing out shudders of pleasure as I relished in the friction, the way he demanded my attention the whole time he would go down on me, how we’d lock eyes as he dove his tongue-deep inside me, how he’d make me so crazy with desire I’d scream down the walls as I rode out my climax, usually multiple times. It’s when I remember those bright blue eyes boring into me, willing me to come. The flashback is too much and my body pulses with the waves of my orgasm as it crashes over me. God damn. Even in my mind Sean is just as good as he always was. I think my fortified willpower when it comes to strong, domineering men might be under attack.

I make a mental note to ring Tanner and arrange to meet up with him one night this week.

Once I’m dressed and ready to leave, I google Sean’s offices on my phone and pull up his number before pushing send and walking out my door to my parking garage.

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“Sean Miller’s office. How may I assist you?” an uppity voice answers.

“Hi. I need to speak to Sean,” I say quickly, sounding slightly more irritated that I want to be, but me and uppity don’t work well together. Miss Bouncy Bones (new name) replies, “Sorry, but Mr. Miller is working from home today. Can I take a message to give him tomorrow?”

“No, that’s okay. It’s Sam Richards from CPD. Just wanted to check in after the break in the other day. No doubt one of the detectives on the case will contact Mr. Miller once they’ve concluded their investigation. Thanks though.” I hang up the phone so damn fast that her ear might have gotten whiplash.

****! I check my watch and see that I’m running late after the extended shower session. I put my car into gear and head toward the hospital, still not sure whether getting involved in the life of the Miller men is a smart move or not.

Once bitten, twice shy.

At least one good thing came from this morning.

Now I know where I can take Ryan.

Chapter 7: “Loneliest Soul”

Sean

Sitting in my home office, I should be working on my complex takeover case. Instead, I’m staring out the window overlooking Lake Shore East Park spread out before me. It’s Thursday lunch time and the park is bustling with office workers escaping the confines of their tall towers for fresh air and sunshine. The thought that people feel like getting outside into the fresh air gives them a sense of freedom makes me smile. I used to be like that, an intern, then an associate, and years before my time, a partner. Now I can charge high, hit low, and generally determine whether a case sees the inside of a courtroom or not. It’s been hard going, but all of my work has paid off, despite the loss of my parents, the loss of my grandparents, the loss of …

Anyway, now the only thing, the only person I have to deal with is Ryan.

I look at the clock hanging on my office wall, Ryan must be released by now. I don’t know this because Ryan called me and asked me to pick him up, but from the billing clerk who called a few hours ago wanting details for payment. Of course, I paid it, I always pay where Ryan is concerned. Whether with money or with pride, someone always pays.

I lean back in my leather chair, lifting my legs up and resting them on the top of my desk, my ankles crossed as I grab my cup of coffee and reflect on where my life is going. I’m thirty-four years old in a month. Thirty-four with a million dollar view, a successful career and a nightclub that keeps rising in popularity but what else do I have?

What would my grandfather think of my life? He was a fair man, a good man who believed in reaping the rewards of hard work and who tried to instil the same philosophy in both of us, but Ryan was never the type of person who wanted to work hard to get what he wanted. Even as a young boy he sought instant gratification.

Maybe that is why gambling has become his addiction of choice. I know, he could have chosen much worse, but his addiction and his need to be saved encroached on my time and my business, then I had to cut my losses. Brother or not, he needs to save himself, stand on his own two feet and not have me and everything my hard work has earned propping him up.

But old habits never die and I’m wondering where Ryan is going to go. I put in a call to his landlord on Tuesday morning and paid for this month’s rent and the month he was in arrears. That’s not to say I won’t make him work his ass off to pay me back for it, but I’m not heartless enough to leave him homeless either. I’ve contacted his old therapist as well and she’s sending me details regarding local Gamblers Anonymous meetings for him to go to. I can’t force him to get help, but if he wants any help from me he’ll need to take action. Doing something about paying back his debts would be a good start, but once he’s recuperated and back home, I’ll swing by and have a talk.

My outburst at the hospital still stands true though. I’m sick of being stuck in a parent role instead of a brother role which means that something has to change. I’m just hoping that Ryan will take the initiative this time, with a little encouragement from me.

The doorbell snaps me out of my thoughts. I take a sip from my coffee and switch screens on my monitor, almost spitting out the contents when I see Samantha and Ryan standing at the front door to my condo. I stare at the screen in shock but not because of Ryan. It’s the fact that he’s with Sammy, my Sammy, that is the kicker.

I thought it was strange that she’d turned up at the hospital the other night to check on him, but pleased as hell that she had and I got the chance to see her again. I meant every word when I said I’d see her soon, but two days later with my brother on my doorstep wasn’t on the cards.

Making my way down into the living area, then down the wooden stairs to the entranceway, I hesitate for a moment, sucking back the anger I still feel for Ryan while trying to work out what the hell he’s playing at by bringing Sam to my doorstep. Not for my sake, of course, but for hers.

I open the door and her radiant eyes captivate me once again. “Samantha, nice to see you again. Twice in a week is a pleasant surprise.” I look past her to see a sheepish Ryan holding a bag to his chest. His eyes are glued to the ground, refusing to meet mine. “Ryan,” I say in a low, strained voice.

Samantha clears her throat and looks me square in the eye. “Look. I know you weren’t expecting us, but when I called your office they said-”

My head jerks back. “You rang my office?”

“Yeah, they said you were working from home, so when Ryan told me that he couldn’t go back to his place right now, I thought it would be okay to come here.”

I shoot Ryan a menacing look before ushering them both inside. Ryan goes first, followed by Sam. I don’t miss the opportunity that presents itself to check out her perfect, peach shaped ass. Images of rubbing my hands over the soft orbs flash in my mind and I have to think of cold showers and wrinkly old ladies to calm the blood that’s rushing south of my belt. Amazing that she still affects me like that.

When we reach the living area, I walk behind the kitchen counter, buying myself some time to will my body back into a more relaxed state. Ryan stops by the counter and drops his bag on the floor before taking a stool. To be honest, he looks worn out. He couldn’t have gotten out of hospital more than an hour ago.

“Would you two like a drink? Coffee, juice, wine maybe?”

Ryan looks up at me suspiciously, his brow raised in silent question.

“Beer, Ry?” I watch him lift his chin before I cut across to Sam who politely shakes her head and takes a seat on my black leather sofa. I grab a beer out of the fridge and pop the cap with an opener from the drawer before handing it to Ryan. I brace myself on the counter and take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for whatever I’m about to be told.

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“How are you feeling?” I ask when he finally meets my eyes.

“Better. Still sore, but the doc says I should be fine for work next week.” I nod in agreement before turning to Sam.

“Ryan, do you want to go first?” Sam asks. He shakes his head and takes a long swig of beer. I study him recognizing all the signs of a man who is yet to accept the consequences of his actions. Seems my ultimatum at the hospital had no effect. My mood starts to darken when I hear Sam’s soft voice filter through the silence again.

“All right. Well, Ryan called me this morning because he couldn’t call you. His stuff was at the bar, and he asked me to pick him up. I made the decision to call your office and when I was told you were working from home, I asked Ryan for your address and here we are.” She’s got her cop hat on. As much as her professionalism is honorable, it pisses me off when it’s directed at me of all people.

“How can I help then?” I bite out, gritting my teeth. The room is full of tension. I can see Ryan in my peripheral vision, his hand gripping his bottle like his life depends on it.

“Well …” She fidgets in the seat. “In the car, Ryan explained how he doesn’t feel safe at his apartment due to whatever is going on with him. He has explained that he has an addiction problem and that he’d like to get some help.” The more she talks, the stronger her demeanor becomes. She’s found her stride now and I couldn’t be prouder. “I think Ryan should stay with you.” I open my mouth to argue, but she doesn’t stop talking. “And when he’s feeling physically stronger, you can both sit down and discuss what his options are regarding therapy, Gamblers Anonymous or similar, and whether he still has a job.”

I stare at her. Everything I was going to talk to Ryan about so that he can get help for his addiction, has already been covered by Sam in the short trip from the hospital. The woman in front of me has miraculously achieved what I couldn’t in the past, which is to get Ryan to agree.

Turning toward Ryan, I notice he has visibly relaxed since Sam finished her spiel. I can’t help softening my stance when I realize that he was genuinely worried that I wouldn’t help him. Maybe he did take my words seriously the other night.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he pipes up, his voice croaky and full of unspoken emotion.

“Yes, Ry. You can stay here for a few days. Your rent is up to date and paid for the next month, and your landlord has recently upgraded the security system, so I’m sure you will be safe there, but you have just been released from the hospital with a few cracked ribs and a head wound. You can stay in the guest room beside my office until you’re back on your feet, but there will be no visitors, no computer, no cell. No access to betting of any sort. This is me giving my little brother one last chance since today you’ve given me a ray of hope that you can see this through this time.”

He nods. “Thanks, brother. I’m beat. I’m going to go lie down if that’s okay.”

“Good idea. I’ll wake you before I leave for the club. Maybe we’ll have dinner?”

“Great.” His voice is decidedly more upbeat when he answers. He stands and picks up his bag, turning toward Sam. “Thanks, Sammy, I really appreciate you picking me up.”

“You’re welcome, Ryan. I’ll call in a few days to check in on you.” The smile she gives him blinds me. I’m hit with memories of all the times she’d look at me like that. It’s like a sucker punch to my very being. I want that smile directed at me again, and f**k if I’m not going to use every weapon in my arsenal to make that happen.

Once Ryan has left, she stands up and I have to choose whether to let her go again or press my case.

I walk around the counter and casually lean back against it, never taking my eyes off her. She noticeably shudders under my gaze and drops her eyes before her body stills, realizing what she just did. She turns away from me and walks over to my floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the street and park.

“Surely this isn’t another coincidence, Samantha. The hospital was chance, this time you knew you’d be seeing me again …”

“I’m helping Ryan,” she replies a bit too quickly.

As always, she’s wearing her heart on her sleeve. She was never able to hide her emotions very well, something I know has been used to her disadvantage in the past. The demise of our relationship case in point. “And I appreciate that, but Ryan is a big boy who needs to stand on his own two feet. Something I told him the other night before I saw you in the corridor.”

“Sean, he needs help. He’s your brother, your only family—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that fact but it goes both ways. What I’m wondering is when do I say enough is enough?”

“When there are no other options.”

“Is that what you did, Sammy?”

“What?” she splutters defensively, turning around to face me.

I stand up straight, pulling my shoulders back, preparing for one of two scenarios to play out.

1) She bolts.

or

2) She stands up to me.

Either one will not deter me or turn me off if I’m to be honest.

“When you ended things between us?”

“That was ten years ago …”

“It was, yet seeing you again after all this time has made me remember what happened between us …” I leave the statement unfinished as I step closer.

Her eyes go wide, then dart toward the stairwell leading down to the entranceway.

I shake my head at her as I recognize her flight reflex threatening to kick in. “Uh-oh, Samantha. There’s no escape this time. I let you walk once, and I’m not too keen on seeing the woman who is still buried deep under my skin disappear for another ten years without some answers.”

“Sean, I-”

I stop a foot away from her, putting my hands in my pockets as I trail my eyes from her feet up her long, tanned legs, to her ***y as hell cut-off black denim shorts, her jade fitted tee, to an all too familiar emerald pendant hanging from a silver chain around her neck. I quickly try to hide my shock. She still has the necklace I gave to her on our one year anniversary. The same one I was given by my grandmother to give to her. A piece of my heart that she kept close to her own despite walking away from me, from us, all those years ago. Surely this can’t be a coincidence.

My perusal stops when my eyes meet hers and I can’t help but smirk when her eyes drop to the floor moments later, but not before I see that spark that I caught a glimpse of the other night, a flash of recognition that I see right through her defenses.

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Realizing she’s cornered, she changes tactics. “Look, I just wanted to get Ryan settled and it looks like he is so I better get going. I’ve got a lot to do before I start work again tomorrow.” She looks up at me, donning a fake smile that doesn’t reach her eyes before making a step to the side to pass by me.

I shoot my arm out and gently grab her bicep. “Sammy,” I murmur in a low, controlled voice. We both look down at my hand touching her bare skin, the electricity sparking between us like an arcing current buzzing between two power sources—the strength of the connection thrilling yet shocking. I watch her chest rise and fall, her breaths coming short and fast.

“You can continue to deny this, but I’m not going away this time. I’m not going to let you walk away without at least having dinner with me.”

“What?”

“Dinner. Two people meeting in a public restaurant where they enjoy a meal and maybe a glass or two of wine. They converse, they laugh, they share what’s been going on in their lives for the past decade. It’s a common pastime I’m led to believe.” I don’t try to hide the veiled humor in my voice. Her reaction tells me that she’s very much attuned to me and my nature, and that she’s fully aware of what she is, yet still trying to deny that fact. But she’s failed to hide her still existing attraction to me. That much is obvious.

“I’m very aware of what dinner is,” she snaps.

I grin at the sudden rediscovery of her backbone. “Then you’ll meet me this week for a meal? For old times’ sake. A toast to old friends.”

“We were never just friends, Sean.”

“No, we weren’t.” My reply is direct and forceful, my voice strong and unwavering. “But I’m hoping to find out where we stand now because Sammy …” I release her arm and step in front of her, our bodies so close that I can feel the heat radiating off her, but she just stares at my chest, her brows furrowed as she visibly tries to process our close proximity. “I fully intend to find out what you’ve learned in the years we’ve been apart. Whether your eyes still turn dark when I use words to caress your soul. Whether you’re as breathtaking as you always were when I turn you on and finally …” I stop and lift my hand between us, using my index finger to lift her chin until she meets my gaze. The desire I'm feeling reflects back at me from her eyes, and I bite back a groan when her tongue darts out, licking her parted lips. Our eyes lock together, neither one of us willing or wanting to pull away. It hits me that the pull this woman has over me is as strong as it ever was.

When I continue, my voice is low and full of grit. “I want to know whether you’ll still scream my name until your voice is hoarse when my mouth is on you …” I lean in to place a gentle lingering kiss on her soft red lips before kissing her cheek with the same treatment, then whispering in her ear, “Whether you’ll still tremble when my ****’s buried deep inside you, our bodies so close you can’t tell where yours ends and mine begins.”

Her eyes turn dark and her body unconsciously lean toward mine, and I realize that if I don’t end this now, I’ll push her too far, too fast. I take a step back and try to reel in the unbridled desire pulsing through my body. She looks down and sees exactly how I’m feeling right now, and when her eyes snap back to mine I decide to press my case, using all the confidence and bravado I’m known for in the courtroom.

“But these are all things we can discuss at dinner. I’ll call you with the reservation details. Now I must check on my impromptu house guest before I get back to my case. Do you need me to show you the way out?”

She looks at me a heartbeat too long before breathlessly answering, “No.”

**** if I don’t feel that deep in my groin.

I give a short sharp nod of approval before spinning on my heel and walking toward the hallway. The string may be stretching between us as I leave but not once do I feel it snap and recoil.

My week is suddenly looking brighter.

Chapter 8: “Can’t Remember to Forget You”

Sam

“What the f**k was I thinking, Helen? Dinner with Sean? That’s it. I’m calling to cancel.”

“No, you’re f**king not. You’re going to finish getting dressed, you’re going to go to that restaurant, and you’re going to show Sean Miller that you are even more of a knockout than you used to be. You’re going to sit down and have a friendly meal with the man. You’ll be cordial, witty, charming, and funny. All of the things we both know you can be. You’re not going to shut down on him, you’re not going to brush him off and, repeat after me, you’re not going to go to bed with him.”

“But … what?”

“You heard me …”

“Helen, like hell that is going to happen. This is a dinner between old friends.”

“You two were never old friends. You were made for each other. Well, I thought so until the lingering doubts in your head were fed and cultivated and you f**ked it all up.”

“Why am I friends with you again?” I ask, half serious and half deflecting. She’s right, of course, but I’m pushing back the need to admit that she’s one hundred percent right.

“Because you love me and I’m the annoying voice of reason at the back of your head that you need to hear when you’re thinking about being a dumbass.” She giggles and I struggle to hold back a smile.

“See! That’s what you needed to hear. A good ol’ Helen pep talk before the big game.”

“Game?”

“You and Sean. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in the restaurant. I just know the ***ual tension is going to be epic.” She claps her hands in glee. “I’m kind of glad there is finally a man with brass balls in your life again.”

“Helen!” I growl.

“What? You cannot tell me that Tanner is not a pu**ycat in the sack. I’ve seen that guy around and I’ve seen him around you. He’s a pu**y whipped sap who would let you spank his ass and literally bust his balls.”

“He is not a pu**ycat in the sack. He’s a pu**ycat out of bed,” I retort with a smirk.

I think back to last night when Tanner had turned up on my doorstep, disrupting me from my CSI New York episode. “Tanner,” I mumbled through a yawn as I answered the front door wearing a tank top, pajama shorts and purple fluffy slippers. Turning up unannounced was not an uncommon occurrence for him, but knowing that I had dinner with Sean the next night, I wasn’t in the mood for company. My mind changed when he presented me with a tub of Ben Jerry’s ‘Karamel Sutra’ ice cream. He had the cutest grin on his face, so I couldn't turn him away after that, could I?

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“Baby, you didn’t reply to my text so I thought I’d head over with dessert. That’s okay, right?”

Tanner, the sweet, hot as f**k, sensitive new aged guy who’s been a frequent inhabitant in my bed for the past few months. He caught my eye when I was at the academy working as a field training officer. I’d needed a work out and decided to join in with a bunch of recruits who were working their way through circuit training. When Tanner knelt in front of me and held my feet down while I did sit ups, it was one of those swoon worthy moments where our eyes met, the air crackled between us, and his huge white smile did me in.

Much to Tanner’s chagrin, I could only offer him a physical relationship, not an emotional one. We went out for a drink after work where I explained this to him. After the impromptu date, he was the perfect gentleman and walked me to my door. He then moved toward me, forcing me back until my body was flush against the wood paneling of the doorway and proceeded to kiss the **** out of me. It was soft, almost cautious at first, then the moment I opened my mouth to him, he went in for the kill. Long, languid strokes of his tongue explored my mouth with such enthusiasm and passion I was left a panting mess when he finally pulled away, resting his head against my forehead while he recovered. When I whispered in his ear asking if he wanted to come inside with me, he stood up straight and looked down at me. His eyes widened in surprise before he reached around me and pushed the door open. He gently moved me inside and shut the door behind us. I don’t think we made it to the bedroom that first time, or the second. By the third round, we were at the slow, lazy, sleepy *** stage and the bed was the most comfortable place to be.

That was the first night of many that Tanner and I ended up in bed together. We occasionally work out together, we share a meal once in a while, and we’ve attended work functions as the other’s plus one, but it’s always been a ‘friends with benefits’ situation. I didn’t go after an arrangement like the one we have, but it fits into my life perfectly. I know Tanner wants more, he’s always wanted more, and I don’t miss the looks of adoration he shoots my way when he thinks I’m not looking.

But Tanner, for all his fantastic qualities in and out of the bedroom, is not who my heart truly desires. He makes me hot, but he doesn’t make my blood boil. He has the stamina of a teenager and can provide encore performances over and over again, but he doesn’t have me panting with need, desperate to be touched and begging to be taken.

Only one man has ever had that effect on me. And my reaction to him as well as ideas that were planted in my head that I allowed to take root, is why I ran from him all those years ago. Not that he knows that.

Having already had a memorable visit with Sean earlier in the day, when Tanner moved close to me on the couch and started stroking my bare leg, moving his fingers in tender, wide circles higher and higher, I had to put a stop to it. There was no way I could sleep with Tanner when the only man in my head was a dark haired, blue-eyed dominant who had my body burning with spoken words and unspoken promises.

So here I am, 7.30 p.m. on a Friday night, putting the final touches of my makeup on while Helen acts as the good angel on my shoulder. Sean called me yesterday afternoon saying that he had an eight o’clock reservation for us. When I tried to probe him for more information, he chuckled and called my enthusiasm endearing.

For the record, Sean chuckling … actually, anything resembling laughter from him is as rare as a Sasquatch sighting. It happens, but the occurrences are so few and far between that it’s a beautiful sight to see and hear when he did. It’s not that he was so tightly strung that he couldn’t laugh, or didn’t want to. No, the Sean of my past had an intensity about him, a presence that you felt whenever he was in the room with you. He was like a silent assassin. He would sit back and study people, trying to get a read of them without uttering a single word. And from what I’ve seen of the Sean of today, that intensity has increased tenfold with a carnal edge that is just too much to take … yet so irresistible.

“Earth to Sammmmmm,” Helen calls out teasingly as I’m snapped back into reality.

I shake my head to clear Sean from my head momentarily.

“Sam, seriously hon. Don’t overthink this. Just go with your gut. As you said, even though I don’t believe you, this is just two friends having dinner and catching up on what they’ve missed. Just be careful, okay? And whatever you do, don’t let what you did in the past stop you from doing anything now. Regret is a pointless emotion unless you learn something from it. In your case, you—”

“I learned not to listen to everything I’m told and to make up my own goddamned mind instead of listening to others,” I finish for her.

She stands up from my bed where she has been lying down and walks over to the dresser where I’m getting ready. Standing behind me, she puts her hand on my forearm and looks at me in the mirror. Her gaze softens, her eyes full of understanding. “You know …”

“Yep,” I reply. “Figured that one out after the damage had been done. But by then, I’d already seen him at the dorm party with Jennifer Murray and the rest, they say, is history. You’d remember that night. You were the one I came crying to.” I smile half-heartedly at her and she gives me a gentle squeeze of encouragement just as my front doorbell rings.

“Well, there is no Jennifer hanging around now, is there?” She wiggles her eyebrows and we both crack up laughing.

Chapter 9: “Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word”

Sean

All day I’ve been willing time to speed up. When I last saw Sammy she was standing in the middle of my living room looking stunned, speechless, and turned on. When I rang her yesterday to confirm dinner for tonight, she sounded surprised that I’d called so soon. Strangely enough, she never asked how I got her number. I guess she assumed I got it off Ryan.

Speaking of my errant baby brother, he’s stuck to himself the past two days. We’ve arranged for him to return to work next Tuesday, and this weekend I’ll be sitting down with my PI to put some measures in place to protect myself in case things start to turn south. I’ve already asked him to look into Ryan’s affairs and try to find out exactly what and who we’re dealing with and I’m hoping he’ll have some answers for me when we meet.

Until then, I have the company of the delectable Miss Richards to look forward to. I’m not nervous about dinner. In fact, I’m looking forward to finding out all that has happened in her life since we broke up.

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It may seem like this huge mystery as to why Sam ended our relationship and never spoke to me again, but that is because it is a mystery, to me. But I hope to learn a lot more about that by reconnecting with her again. However, I meant every word I said to her yesterday. Seeing her again has reignited something inside of me, something that was snuffed out a long time ago. I need Sam in my life; she brings color to an otherwise black and white world. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy or depressed, I’ve got a successful career, a thriving club, and I’m never short on options for female companionship. The thing is, I never realized how much I was settling until I saw Sam again.

She is more radiant, more magnificent than she ever was. When I first met her, Samantha Richards took my breath away. Yesterday, seeing her in my house in painted on jeans and a tight tee, she was an instant f**king hard on wrapped up in fabric.

Now I’m in a town car headed toward her apartment. All of a sudden, my stomach tightens and for the first time in years I feel nervous as I walk up the few steps to her door.

She opens the door just as I reach the top step and I’m frozen on the spot as I take her in. Her sun-colored hair is tied back in a high ponytail, and I swear that her flawless face is more beautiful than yesterday. My heart stutters as my gaze moves down her body which is covered in a simple yet elegant red dress. Her matching red heels make her silky smooth legs look impossibly long, which just leads my heated stare back over the curve of her hips and the swell of her br**sts before meeting her eyes again. Then I see the impish gleam in her eye and it becomes glaringly obvious that she’s succeeded in her desire in driving me to distraction. All of it just reaffirms to me the fact I want Sam back in my life.

“You look gorgeous.’ My gravelly voice resonates between us as I try to recover my scattered thoughts. She unravels me and she doesn’t even realize.

Looking to the ground, she blushes, obviously uncomfortable with my compliment. It makes me wonder what kind of men she’s had in her life since me. I was taught by my grandfather that a man worth anything at all will tell a woman how much he adores her, showing her with his actions that he’s the luckiest son of a bitch on earth to be with her.

And right now, I want to be that son of a bitch.

“Your carriage awaits.” She looks up and past my shoulder at the car idling at the curb.

“Oh, right … just let me lock up.” I smirk, loving that she’s off balance again. “What can I say? Once a cop, always a cop.”

“It suits you, you know. It makes sense. I always wondered what you pursued after college.”

She turns and hurriedly locks the door, spinning back around to face me. I need to touch her again. The fleeting moment between us yesterday was not enough. All night, instead of focusing on my upcoming case, I was thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her. I dreamed of touching her, exploring every inch of her skin, tasting her …

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and I realize she’s taken a step toward me. “You were a million miles away.”

“Sorry. You’ve kind of thrown me for a loop.” I lean forward, placing my hands on her bare shoulders and slowly stroking down her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Our eyes stay locked as I move back to cup her shoulders and I clear my throat, trying to strengthen my resolve to get answers from her. “We should go before I make a whole new set of plans, and none of them involve dinner.”

“Yes, let’s go,” she replies quickly. I take her hand and give her a light reassuring squeeze before I lead her down into the car.

Once the car is on its way, she pulls her hand away and inconspicuously places it back in her lap.

I see her shoulders straighten as she turns toward me. “So, where are we going? You were rather mysterious on the phone.”

“Well, I remember a long time ago we talked about traveling, and you always said you wanted to travel around Africa.” I raise my brow, waiting for her affirmation. She nods and a sly smile graces her lips. “That’s why we’re heading to a great Ethiopian restaurant one of the partners recommended.”

“Oh, wow, if it’s the one I’m thinking of, I’ve wanted to go there forever.” I grin at the emergence of goofy Sam. Her true nature, the one I suspect she endeavors to hide away from most people, is one of her most endearing qualities. She was always one of the most ‘real’ people I knew. There were no pretenses and no falsities; what you see is what you get with Sam.

One of the biggest issues in our relationship was Sam’s submissive side; a wrongly perceived weakness that was preyed upon by someone who should have known better than to meddle in other people’s lives.

And tonight, I plan on finding out exactly why that happened.

Sam

My body is on fire. Ever since he picked me up, I’ve felt off balance. And now he’s being all thoughtful and even remembered that I want to travel around Africa. I mean, I haven’t seen him for ten years since we broke up, and it wasn’t exactly a nice break up either. It was a clean break, with no warning, and I had really **** timing too. To be honest, I’m wondering why he even wants anything to do with me. Does time heal all wounds?

His touch on my skin simply stoked the fire that has grown from a deep buried ember. I still know that there are huge fundamental differences between Sean and I. He is a dominant, he likes to control and manipulate women. I’m a woman that does not want to be controlled. See, insurmountable differences that I’m unsure a simple dinner can erase. But then there is the other part of me that relishes in his dominance. The way he takes control of a situation, like paying Ryan’s rent and making sure that he’s safe despite vowing to never bail out his brother again. Or turning up on my doorstep and telling me that I deserve a man who showers me with compliments and acts like a man who deserves to be with me.

Major swoon factor there.

Now we’re walking hand in hand (again) into one of the city’s top restaurants. So not where I thought I’d be two days ago.

The maître d’ shows us to a corner table near the back and Sean pulls out a chair facing away from the door. It goes against all my trained instincts, but I push them aside and sit down, unable to hold back the shiver that wracks my body when his hands graze my side, stopping just below my br**sts.

Once Sean takes his seat opposite, the maître d’ lights a single red candle sitting in the middle of the table. “Your waiter for the evening will see you shortly. Have a great night.”

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“Thank you,” Sean says, not taking his eyes off me. His presence still consumes me. He may be sitting a few feet away from me, but I can still feel his touch like an invisible brand that warms my skin and seeps through me. It’s confusing. My brain, the sane part of it anyway, knows that this is a dinner between two old friends. As much as Helen tells me otherwise, surely that is all it can be. It doesn’t matter the effect Sean has on me or my body, or the natural way he can bring out my passive side with a single smoldering stare. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact I’d rather be somewhere less public and more naked with him. No, that has nothing to do with it.

To distract my mind from these befuddling thoughts, I scan my surroundings, falling back on my habit of always being on the job.

Although it’s busy, the restaurant’s atmosphere is warm and welcoming. The worn wooden floors are polished to perfection, and multi-colored pastel draped curtains line the floor to ceiling windows along the street front. Then there are the table dressings. Crisp white tablecloths perfectly pleated with two crystal clear water glasses filled with a rolled, blood-red napkin. Every care has been taken, and the attention to detail is flawless.

“Samantha, would you like me to order some wine?” Sean’s deep voice rumbles through me. I look back over at him, giving him the gentlest of smiles.

“Sure, that would be nice.” He nods and picks up the menu, perusing it with a concentrated frown, only looking up when our waiter stops at his side.

“Would you like to order some drinks?” the young man asks us both.

“Yes, I’d like to order a bottle of the Indaba Sauvignon Blanc, please. And if I could order our meal as well, we’ll have the Messob Sampler.” He closes the menu and places it in the waiter’s outstretched hand.

“Your wine will be brought to your table shortly, sir.” He looks at me briefly, “Madam,” then leaves.

I stare at Sean in shock. In barely a minute he’s ordered our drinks and meal without even stopping to consider that I might want to order something different. There is being a gentleman and asking if he can order on your behalf, then there is steamrolling your dinner date and taking over. Sean is obviously a believer in the second philosophy.

“Did you think that I might want to order something myself?” I ask incredulously, unable to hold back my disbelief.

He looks at me with eyes dancing with amusement. What the f**k is funny with what I just said? “I’m sorry, Samantha. Old habits die hard. You always used to like it when I ordered for the both of us.”

I open my mouth to voice an objection but stop mid gape. Surely he can’t be serious. “Sean, that was ten years ago. People do change you know.” I point a finger at my chest. “For example, me.”

He chuckles and leans back in his seat, still amused at my reaction. “I’ve apologized already, and I’m not going to do it again. If you would like, we’ll change the order when the waiter returns. I simply thought you’d enjoy the choices that the sampler provides. It is a three course dinner with sambussa, messob and dessert. The full Ethiopian dining experience. I was just trying to cover all bases.”

Well, f**k! How can I argue with that? My previously squared shoulders relax as I give up the fight over a stupid dinner order. I don’t know what tonight is about, but I have a feeling from Sean’s confident demeanor that he has everything planned out. He always had to know what was going to happen and when. To put it plainly, he was a hard man *****rprise.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous I guess.”

“Nervous, Sammy?”

My eyes go wide when I hear his pet name for me. Ever since I saw him at the hospital, I have been Samantha. In two days he has made my world shift on its axis with promises of seeing me again, and yesterday’s declaration where he told me in no uncertain terms that he wants to taste, touch and hear me as I come, it has always been Samantha. ****, is it getting hot in here?

“A bit I guess,” I reply honestly. “But you were always one to keep me on my toes and I’ve realized that is something that hasn’t changed either.” I watch in fascination as his head falls back and roars with laughter, looking more at ease than he has all evening. His laughter dies down to a quiet chuckle as he grins over the table at me. “****, I needed that. Thank you.”

I shrug my shoulders but can’t hide the sly smile on my face as I look out the window of the restaurant, trying to appear unaffected by the nothing short of dazzling man across from me. But if I thought I was succeeding, the intense heated stare Sean gives me in response negates that. Thankfully we’re interrupted by the waiter returning with our wine. He uncorks the bottle, pouring a little splash in Sean’s glass before holding it out to him to taste. I watch intently as he lifts the glass to his mouth, pausing to smell the aroma of the wine before parting his lips and tasting the wine. He lowers the glass and locks eyes with me across the table, running his tongue along the inside rim which causing me to squeeze my legs together. I curse the gods for subjecting me to this scene. I’m feeling so hot I’m starting to think I am in Africa.

Dammit! I knew I should have taken the edge off before Sean picked me up. Now I’m ***ualizing everything the man does. I mean, he’s just tasting the wine and I’m picturing his lips tasting wine from another vessel … me. He shoots me a ***y knowing smirk. Damn mind reader!

He nods and holds his glass out to the waiter who proceeds to fill it, then shifts to my glass, pouring the cool, pale-yellow liquid before bowing slightly and leaving us alone once more.

Sean picks up his glass and holds it up. “To old friends and new beginnings.” I clink the crystal against his and bring the edge of the glass to my mouth, my senses scattered between the sensory assault of the wine and Sean’s words full of unspoken meaning.

“So tell me what you’ve been up to for the past decade. I was surprised but not shocked when you told me you were a police officer.” He rests his arm of the table, the other hand held close to his chest as he cradles his wine glass. He’s the poster boy for relaxed and carefree right now and it secretly irks me because inside I’m a contradiction of feelings—annoyance to lust, and regret to wonder at the difference a decade can make. He clears his throat, and again I’m brought back to reality.

“Uh, yeah,” I reply with a smile. “After college I needed a change of scenery and had always intended to look at enforcement of some kind. It just happens that the CPD accepted me.”

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He nods. “And you enjoy your work?”

I take another long sip of wine to quench my parched throat before answering. “Definitely. I wouldn’t do it otherwise. It’s so fulfilling. I like to think I’m making a difference.”

His expression turns from interest to one full of respect. “I can definitely see you relishing that role. And look how it has brought us back full circle. The two of us, together … having dinner … just two old friends reminiscing.”

“And errant younger brothers who never learn?”

He chuckles. “An unfortunate event that resulted in a positive outcome for at least one of the Miller men. The jury is still out on the fate of the other one.”

I smile and decide it’s now or never if I want to find out about the Sean of my past. “And how about you? After pre-law, you stayed in Chicago?”

“I kind of had to with Ryan and his never ending brushes with trouble. And after our grandfather passed, it just seemed right to stay in the house for a while. We still have it. I rent it to a nice family who take cares of it as if it’s their own.”

And just like that, the elephant in the room makes its quiet entrance.

Knowing it wasn’t intentional, I side step the pang of guilt that sucker punches me at the mention of his grandfather’s death. “I was sorry to hear about your grandfather’s passing.”

He nods but doesn’t speak, his eyes are a different story. They narrow and he tilts his head to the side as if he’s studying me. Feeling unsettled and under the spotlight I continue talking, chastising myself for being so paranoid and tense. “And corporate law? You were looking at criminal practice initially …”

“Mmm hmm. But things change, people change. Corporate law seemed to fit me better. Just like law enforcement seems to fit you.”

I murmur my agreement. I keep picking up on veiled hints of our past, and what I think are subtle barbs disguised as polite conversation. I’m distracted and mentally weighing his words when I’m saved by the bell, or in this case, saved by the waiter bringing us our appetizers.

As we begin to eat, the silence stretches between us. But by GOD is the food delicious. I swear I’m on the verge of a food orgasm. The wonderful mix of flavors are heaven sent.

When we’re finished the appetizers and our plates are taken away, I feel exposed and vulnerable. No, it’s not that I don’t trust the man in front of me. I always did, implicitly. No, I feel emotionally bare, defenseless and open for interrogation. And of course, Sean is not one to disappoint.

“So is there a special man in your life?” he asks, the twitch in his tightened jaw a dead giveaway that the thought grates on him.

Feeling emboldened by the wine, I decide to be completely honest with him, knowing that I’ll be goading a reaction out of him. “Do you think I’d be here if I did?” I reply with a sly smirk. He quirks a brow and I swallow hard before continuing. “There’s someone who I enjoy uncommitted benefits with, but I have no time or inclination for anything more permanent. My career is what is important to me right now.”

His eyes darken and I swear I hear a growl from his side of the table. “What’s his name?” he asks, his voice low and menacing.

“Tanner. Why?” A thrill goes through me at his reaction to another man in my life, and it confuses the hell out of me.

Our main selection arrives and I know this may be my last chance to find out the one thing that has been eating away at me since I first saw Sean again at the hospital.

“And how about you, Sean? Any special lady?”

He doesn’t even flinch at the question, answering without hesitation. “No. My heart was well and truly done for by one woman a long time ago. Haven’t had the time or desire to try for anything else since.”

I fill my fork with food and stuff my mouth with it, willing the earth to swallow me up whole. This conversation is f**king with my head and my emotions.

Thankfully, we’re soon too busy eating to continue the interrogation. It’s not to say that we don’t exchange pleasantries and light banter. That side of things was always easy for the two of us. Our issues stem from the deeper stuff, the wants and desires and hopes for the future. Or more importantly, my denial about my ***ual submissiveness. There’s also the fact that I let someone who should have known better poison my mind and belittle the love I had for him, twisting it into something I was told I had no business selling myself short for.

By the time our plates are cleared away at the end of the meal, and the bottle of wine has been long emptied, I’m too blissed out from the food orgy I’ve just experienced to notice a shift in Sean’s mood. He calls for the bill, and hands over his platinum card to the Maître d’ before standing up, holding out his hand and pulling me up until my body is flush with his.

“I had a good time tonight. But I’m still wondering why we had to miss out on ten years of spending time together like this. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to walk off some of this food stupor and talk honestly with each other about what happened back then.” He places his hand on the small of my back and pushes firmly. Without realizing, I’m soon moving forward and walking out the front door with him.

As soon as the cool night air hits my skin I freeze, realizing what just happened. This is what I’d been wanting to avoid. This is what I didn’t want to face. He watches me intently, not missing the moment my body goes rigid.

“I … uh …”

“Sammy.” There goes that name again. The one that has the power to turn me to mush in two syllables. I feel the tension in my body ease slightly and automatically lean toward him. His eyes soften as he continues, “I’m not going to tie you up and spank you, Sam … well, not until you admit you want me to. Even if the thought of your red glowing ass under my hand turns me on …”

That instantly gets my back up again. Who the hell does he think he is saying he wants to spank my ass red? That’s going too damn far.

I cannot deny that there have been times over the years when I have contemplated looking Sean up, but I’ve always stopped myself before googling his name because of the shame I feel when I think back to what I did. And now he’s standing here in all his dominant, commanding, handsome glory asking me to walk with him and talk about what happened.

I just can’t do it.

I feel the warmth of his body against mine and the slut part of my brain tries to reason with the rational side that there would be no harm, no foul if I just let Sean have his wicked way with me. Then a small sliver of clear thinking shines through and I realize that I need to get out of this situation and fast. I change from my ***y panties to my bitch panties, pulling back my shoulders and looking him straight in the eye.