Page 87 of A Matter of Time

“Yeah.”

“My mother fed you?”

“Yes.”

“And she took you for pie?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And you know what, if Regina Rappaport was my mother, I’d have T-shirts made.”

“You knew who my mother was?”

“Yeah, of course. Everybody knows.”

“You’d be surprised who doesn’t know.”

“She’s so beautiful,” I told him.

“You’re beautiful,” he assured me, fingers lightly tracing my black eye. “Even beat up, I know women that aren’t as pretty as you.”

“I don’t think⁠—”

He chuckled, and I had to smile in spite of myself.

“I know you don’t, baby.”

I shoved his hands away, and he laughed as I tried to smother him with my pillow.

“We had a good time,” I told him as I scooted away from him to the cold part of the bed. “She invited me for Sunday dinner.”

“Did she?”

“Yessir.”

“You with my entire family. I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

“Why?”

“Well, because I don’t feel like explaining you to everybody right now.”

“And why would you? I didn’t tell her anything about why I was here. All I said was you were helping me out. That’s all you gotta say to anyone.”

“That simple?”

“Sure.”

“Come here,” he said softly, reaching for me, tucking me back against his side, his hand moving to the small of my back. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

Sam liked being the one in charge. He was a very demanding lover, and being with him was heaven for me because of it.

“Look at me.”

I lifted my chin, and he leaned in and kissed me. It was slow, sensual, and I felt the heat roll through me.

“You can’t get enough of me,” he said, arrogantly pleased. I didn’t need to answer. “What’re you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’m lucky.” I shifted, rising over him.

“Yeah, you are lucky. You… Oh. Goddamn.”