I don’t know if he’s right. But as I lie here with Samantha sleeping peacefully in my arms, I find I don’t care what it’s called.
I just know I don’t want to be anywhere else.
21
GRANT
Two daysin Los Angeles is two days too long.
I’m standing in a hotel suite, staring at the city lights sprawled below, and all I can think about is getting back to Colorado.
Back to her.
The meetings today were productive. The California tech mogul I’ve been courting for months finally agreed to let me invest in his AI startup. Forty million dollars, twenty percent equity, board seat included. It’s a good deal. A great deal, actually.
But I couldn’t focus during the final negotiation. Kept checking my watch. Kept thinking about Samantha back at the estate.
I took the helicopter out yesterday morning because the roads are still impassable. Left her sleeping in my bed, tangled in sheets that smelled like us. The image has been stuck in my head for forty-eight hours.
My phone buzzes with a text from Kai.
Kai: Hurry back. I’m bored, and Samantha keeps working. She needs a distraction.
Me: Behave until I get there.
Kai: Where’s the fun in that?
I set down my phone and loosen my tie. The suite is quiet. I ordered room service an hour ago, but barely touched it.
What I want isn’t on any menu.
I want Samantha in my bed. Want to bury myself inside her and hear my name on her lips.
And the wanting has been getting worse. More intense. Less controllable.
I pull off my tie completely and pour myself whiskey from the minibar, and I drink it in one swallow.
It doesn’t help.
I check my watch. Nearly midnight. Too late to call anyone. Too early to sleep.
The need is getting unbearable.
I strip off my shirt and pants and head to the shower, stand under water as cold as I can handle. But it doesn’t cool the heat building under my skin.
When I get out, I don’t bother with clothes. Just stretch out on the hotel bed, still damp from the shower. I should sleep, but my hand wraps around my cock.
I close my eyes and see Samantha. Her dark hair spread across my pillow. Her lips parted, her eyes dark with want.
I stroke slowly, building the fantasy. Samantha underneath me. Her voice saying my name. Her body arching into mine.
The image makes me stroke faster.
I’m buried deep inside her while she falls apart.
I come hard, my release spilling over my hand, her name on my lips. And then I lie there breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling, even after I’ve caught my breath.
This is getting out of control.
