Sam's face grows suddenly serious and he leans into me.Holy shit, he's close.It feels real hot in here.Is it hot in here?I feel hot.
"Oh, I like sober Rory a lot. I just like hearing you tell me what you're thinking. And I told you, don't pout, it's too adorable," he says softly, no more than a couple of inches from my ear. His fingers inch up to my shoulder and he twists a lock of my hair between his thumb and forefinger before tucking it behind my ear.
"You think I'm adorable?" I practically gasp.
Sam smirks. "You know you're gorgeous. You're not fooling me," he whispers my own words right back to me, and I suck down an anxious swallow.
"I tell you what I'm thinkin' all the time," I counter his earlier comment. "I tell you all kinds of things."
"You tell me things," he agrees. "But usually not what you're thinking. Not in the moment, anyway. It's refreshing."
"Tell me what you're thinkin'," I challenge. "Drunk or not, it's only fair." I bat my eyelashes at him and wonder where this bravery is even coming from.Oh right, the alcohol.
Sam's lips twist up into a half smile. "I'm thinking... you look beautiful," he breathes, and my heartbeat takes off, but not in panic. My whole body is flushed, inside and out, and I feel it - that unfamiliar feeling.Desire.
"Carl and Tina did a good job makin' me up," I whisper back.
Sam bites his lip to suppress his laugh. "Not just tonight, Rory."
I stare into captivating midnight blue, breathing so hard my chest is practically heaving, when we arrive at our hotel and the valet opens my door. "Oh!" I yelp in surprise, and quickly compose myself to climb out of the car. I stumble.Damn, I'm drunker than I thought.
"Hold on there, Ror." Sam rushes around the car and slings his arm around me. "I got you." He guides me into the elevator and doesn't let me go as we ride up to the top floor. "Come on, give me your keycard. I'll open your door," he offers.
"But I'm not tired," I grumble with another pout.
Sam brushes the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip and a shiver shoots through my entire body. "I told you not to pout."
"Okay," I breathe, not sure what I'm even agreeing to. I'll agree to anything he says right now.
"Give me your purse." I hand it over without question and watch as he digs through it. "Where's your room key? It's not in here."
Oh, shit.I slap my hand to my forehead. "I may have left it on the writing desk... in my room."
Sam sighs. "This is why we should have left our adjoining doors open." He leads me one door over to his own room. I follow him in.
"I was worried we might end up in bed," I admit without thinking, then slap the same hand that just smacked my forehead to my mouth.Did I just say that out loud?
I peek over at Sam and he looks horrified.Oh, shit.He thinks I meant sex.
DidI mean sex?
He walks right up to me, and I may be drunk, but it seems like he's mad. "I would never take advantage of you like that, Ror.Jesus, how could you think-"
I press two fingers to his lips to stop his words. "No, Sam, I wasn't worried aboutyou, I was worried aboutme," I admit. Sam furrows his brow. "You look so cute when you do that," I add, sliding my fingers to the small crease between his brows, gently feeling the soft skin.
"What are you talking about? What do you mean you were worried about you?"
We stare at each other, barely a few inches apart. I want him. I can't help it. I've never felt this way before - emotionally, physically - and I doubt I ever will again. I only ever felt anything close once, and I never explored it - I never had the chance.
My fingers move of their own volition to the back of his neck, I lean up on my tip toes, and before my intoxicated mind can remember why this isn't a good idea, I press my lips to his. After a sharp gasp of surprise, Sam responds almost instantly.
His lips move over mine, slowly, gently.God, they're soft, and somehow also firm. I push my hands up, into his hair, and tug lightly, like I've wanted to for so long. Sam moans, the sound rumbling from deep in his throat, and it's an incredibly sexy sound.
I'm on fire, like I'm possessed, wanting like I've never wanted before. Sam grabs my face and he takes control, picking up the pace of the kiss as his thumbs reverently brush over my cheeks. His lips tease mine, and when his tongue licks the seam of my mouth, I open for him, welcoming more. Desperate for more.
Sam's tongue works its way into my mouth and I revel in it. Having a part of him in a part of me. His hands caress down my neck and shoulders until one threads through my hair, holding my mouth to his, and the other slides around my waist until he's pulling my body flush against the hard planes of his own.
I tentatively move my tongue with his, twisting and licking, loving the exploration of his mouth, the taste of him - a delectable mixture of mint gum and scotch.
