Sam’s been home for two weeks. He’s getting around much better now that he’s used to the brace they put on his leg. He’s able to use one crutch with ease. He gets a little careless with it at times, thinking he can move like he did before he was stabbed, but the pain quickly brings him back down to earth.
Sam and I spend every afternoon, evening, and night together. I was going to head back to work full-time after my two weeks of convalescence, but I decided to go back part-time only until Sam is at one hundred percent. Theresa was okay with that plan, and while I work in the mornings, Sam’s mom and sister take turns hanging out with him. He claims he doesn’t need anyone “babysitting” him, but I think he loves the attention.
Since returning to the store, the sales of my own pieces have increased. Theresa moved my pieces to the front of the store and that has helped. My sales are so much better that I can spend less time working at the store and more time making jewelry. Theresa’s very pleased with the new pieces, telling me she believes I could be designing full-time within a year. I hope she’s right.
I’ve been able to spend time with Bobby, too. We have lunch together a few times a week, and he walks the dogs with me. Theresa was kind enough to notify the dogs’ parents that I was going to need time off. Luckily, the dogs forgave me for my absence. Brutus can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Bobby and I’ve had some good talks and great laughs. He calls me sis, and I call him little bro. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel about Bobby and Sam and, well, everything. It’s like I have a real family again. I think Pops would be happy for me. No, Iknowhe’d be happy.
Speaking of my little family, Sam has invited everyone over to his place for dinner tonight. Lauren and Gill will be there along with Valerie and Perri. I’ve also asked Bobby, Theresa, and Diane. According to Sam, we’re celebrating. I’m not sure what we’re celebrating, but I assume it has something to do with his recovery, my recovery, and the fact the asshole who tried to kill both of us is dead. Plus, it’s Friday, the weather is fantastic, and Sam wants to grill steaks.
On the way home from work, I shop for the ingredients for a big salad, garlic bread, baked potatoes with all of the toppings, and a delicious dessert from Molly’s Cupcakes on North Clark. They’ve got the best cupcakes on the planet.
Passing the concierge in Sam’s building, I stop at the desk and hand him a cupcake. He’s a peanut butter cup kind of guy so I gave him the Ron Bennington. It’s chocolate cake with peanutbutter filling, chocolate ganache, and crushed butterscotch topping. Delicious.
“Thank you so much, Miss Parker. That’s very kind of you.”
“You’re welcome, Patrick. Have a good night.”
“You too, miss.”
The elevator opens immediately when I hit the Up button. Riding to the top floor, I start to wonder how much rent Sam pays for his place. We need to have a talk. So much happened so fast, and I moved in without us even discussing it. It occurs to me that the reasons for me staying at Sam’s are disappearing, one by one. My wound is almost completely healed. Sam’s getting better every day. The serial killer is dead. I guess that means I can go home. That thought makes me a little sad, but moving back home doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with our relationship. Sam and I are good. Our relationship won’t be affected if we don’t live together. Right?
The elevator door opens on the top floor of the building. As I turn to the right, I glance left at the other apartment door. It’s strange I’ve never seen any traffic in and out of that place. The first week I was here, Sam said they were renovating and it suresoundedlike that with all the hammering and banging that was going on. But no one seems to be living there yet. Maybe they were doing work to put it on the market? I shrug and slide my key into our lock and turn the knob.Ourlock—did I just think of this asourlock? I set the bags and box of cupcakes on the foyer table, shutting the door with my foot. I can see Sam lying on his huge sectional. I tiptoe over and grab a throw to lay over him and feel a palm slide up my bare calf to the back of my thigh. My whole body tingles. “You’re awake?”
“I heard the key in the door. I was only dozing.” He sits up and puts his feet on the floor, never taking his hand off the back of my leg.
“Oh, yeah? Eagle ears.” Wait. Do eagles have ears? I dunno. Better google that.
Sam lightly strokes my leg. “I saw my doc this morning.”
“I know. Your mom took you, right?”
“Yep. She said I was good as new.” His warm palm slides up a little further until he’s cupping my bottom.
“Did she, now?” I turn to face him and feel his right hand move up and cup my other cheek.
“She did. Good as new,” he mumbles as he presses his face into my stomach. “God, I’ve missed being inside you, Mac.” He’s taken to calling me Mac since the day he was stabbed. I like it.
“I’ve missed you, too. But it’s too dangerous. You?—”
“No. I asked. She said I’m well enough to make love to my woman. I just need to be careful how I do it. That means you’re on top, babe.”
I squeak, “On top? Me?”
“You.” My panties are pulled down my legs to my knees. He tugs them a little bit more until they fall to the ground. “Step out.”
He’s back to his old self. Bossy. “Sam,” I whine. “We’ve got company coming soon.”
He chuckles. “Not for four and a half hours. Plenty of time. I’m good, but I’m notthatgood.” He leans back, lifting his hips, pulling his sweats down to his knees. As soon as it’s free, his cock pops out, standing at attention. I moan because I’ve missed him inside me, too. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”
I do it without another thought. He runs his fingers through my folds. “Wet for me already, huh? You need it too, don’t you, baby?”
“Uh-huh.” I pant as he slowly slides his finger into me. “Oh, God. Sam.” I sound all husky and breathy like a porn star.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers as he slides his free hand under my top. It moves slowly up to cup my breast, tugs aside my bracup, and my nipple is hard and wanting. He brushes his fingers over me, and I moan. “How long’s it been? A month?” I say absently.
“Too long. I don’t think I can wait much longer, Mac. I need to feel you around me.” He busies himself with unzipping my A-line skirt. It slips right off me onto the floor. He cups my ass again, pulling me toward him. I straddle his legs and scoot closer, using his shoulders as support. “Take your top off.” He braces my hips while I pull the shirt up over my head.
I reach back and unhook my bra, slide the straps down my arms, and toss it over my shoulder. His lips begin sucking on my left breast in no time. “Oh, Sam. Yes.” His tongue sweeps over my hard nipple, and I arch into him. I run my fingers through his hair and pull. His hair has gotten really long in the last month or so. I love it.
