Something Reckless
Page 41
From inside my very slutty panties, my girlie parts seem to be screaming, Yes, please, old friend! Stay awhile?
As if he can hear their desperate, horny-girl cries, Sam grins and brushes my cheek with his knuckles.
Is he trying to confirm my membership in Something Real because he wants to tease me about using the site or because he suspects I’m Tink24? I so badly want it to be the latter. I don’t like the idea of Sam being here with me now while planning to meet a stranger for anonymous sex in just a few hours. I feel almost jealous. Of myself. Which is ridiculous. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” His gaze drops to my mouth, and I could melt right here in his arms if my brain weren’t going two hundred miles an hour trying to solve this puzzle I’ve gotten myself into. “Why am I dancing with you at a wedding? Isn’t that what we do? Some of my best memories are of me and you at weddings.”
“After last summer. After Connor . . . you hate me.”
He’s quiet for a minute as he studies me. “I hated seeing you in his arms. I hated thinking about him touching you. I could never hate you.”
It’s the first thing he’s said about last summer, the first time he’s acknowledged out loud that he cared for any reason other than Della’s hurt feelings. “It was a mistake. But we didn’t have sex. We weren’t lying about that.”
Connor and Della broke up, and he’d called me over. His heart was broken. He needed a friend. And I had just watched Nate propose to my sister. I was lonely and wondering why I never gave Connor the chance he probably deserved. Add vodka and a little desperation, and voila—the makings of a mistake bordering on disaster.
Sam’s hand slides from my hip to my ass as he groans against my ear. “I don’t care if you’re using the clinical definition of sex or the Clintonian definition. You were naked in his arms. I wanted to cut off his dick.”
“Liz, can you help?” Hanna calls, saving me from trying to come up with a response.
“Bridesmaid duty calls.” I pull out of his embrace and meet his hot gaze for three thundering beats of my heart. When I walk up the stairs, I feel his eyes on me every step of the way.
I follow Hanna to the master bedroom at the top of the stairs.
“You sure you don’t want to run away to Hawaii?” I ask as I help her out of her dress. “I’ll watch the girls.”
“Not even a little bit,” she says with a grin. “There’s no honeymoon I want as much as I want two weeks with Nate home with me, Collin, and the babies. He travels so much. All I really wanted was some time for our little family to be together, everyone who matters all in one place.”
My heart tugs. I want that.
“I saw you dancing with Sam,” she singsongs. “Anything happening there?”
“Probably not.” Helping Hanna out of her wedding dress reminds me why I enrolled in Something Real to begin with. That whole thing where I want someone, someday, to look at me the way Asher looks at Maggie. The way William looks at Cally. The way Nate looks at Hanna. I want forever as much as the next girl.
But would it really hurt to put forever on hold for a night?
“Will says Sam really likes you.”
I nod and hang her dress as she changes into jeans and a sweater. “So true. He likes my tits, my ass . . .”
Hanna snorts. “Good point.”
When I turn around, she’s dressed and beaming. “Do you need anything else?”
She shakes her head and straightens her dress. “I think we’re going to sneak out. We don’t get much sleep these days and we’re both tired. But you guys can stay and party as long as you like.”
That she’s trying to blame her twins for the fact that she’s leaving her own reception early so she and her husband can fuck like bunnies? So cute. “Get out of here. Send me a text when you get to your room, or I’ll worry.”
“Sure thing.” She hugs me then rushes down to meet Nate.
I collapse onto the bed and close my eyes. Sam doesn’t hate me, which means he might not hate learning that I’m Tink24. Which means agreeing to meet him tonight might be the best decision I’ve made in months.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Sam: I have to get out of here. Thanks for the date.
My stomach sinks and dances all at once. He’s ditching me. So he can meet Tink24? Oh God. It’s true. I’m seriously jealous of myself.
* * *
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve done some crazy shit in my life, but this takes the cake.
I look at the message again and a shiver of anticipation races up my spine, followed by a healthy rush of what-the-fuck-am-I-getting-myself-into fear. Equal parts nerves and anticipation have my body fluttering all over, but I am nothing if not determined.
This is the address. Tonight is the night.
I’m not sure I should be here. Aren’t there rules for meeting people for the first time? I didn’t even tell anyone where I was going. Truth be told, I was too embarrassed to tell them. “Hey, I’m going to go meet a man I’ve been talking to online. No, I don’t know his name or really anything about him. Nope, not sure when I’ll be home, but I’m pretty sure he plans to tie me up and fuck me three ways to Sunday. Good plan, huh?”
This is stupid. So stupid. Even though I’m ninety-eight percent positive Sam is River, going in there without confirmation is a risk no female in her right mind should take. It seemed reasonable when he suggested it—it already feels like he knows me so intimately—and if he is Sam, God knows I know him intimately. But suddenly, I’m seeing my decisions as if through someone else’s eyes, and I’m not feeling very good about them.
As if he can hear their desperate, horny-girl cries, Sam grins and brushes my cheek with his knuckles.
Is he trying to confirm my membership in Something Real because he wants to tease me about using the site or because he suspects I’m Tink24? I so badly want it to be the latter. I don’t like the idea of Sam being here with me now while planning to meet a stranger for anonymous sex in just a few hours. I feel almost jealous. Of myself. Which is ridiculous. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” His gaze drops to my mouth, and I could melt right here in his arms if my brain weren’t going two hundred miles an hour trying to solve this puzzle I’ve gotten myself into. “Why am I dancing with you at a wedding? Isn’t that what we do? Some of my best memories are of me and you at weddings.”
“After last summer. After Connor . . . you hate me.”
He’s quiet for a minute as he studies me. “I hated seeing you in his arms. I hated thinking about him touching you. I could never hate you.”
It’s the first thing he’s said about last summer, the first time he’s acknowledged out loud that he cared for any reason other than Della’s hurt feelings. “It was a mistake. But we didn’t have sex. We weren’t lying about that.”
Connor and Della broke up, and he’d called me over. His heart was broken. He needed a friend. And I had just watched Nate propose to my sister. I was lonely and wondering why I never gave Connor the chance he probably deserved. Add vodka and a little desperation, and voila—the makings of a mistake bordering on disaster.
Sam’s hand slides from my hip to my ass as he groans against my ear. “I don’t care if you’re using the clinical definition of sex or the Clintonian definition. You were naked in his arms. I wanted to cut off his dick.”
“Liz, can you help?” Hanna calls, saving me from trying to come up with a response.
“Bridesmaid duty calls.” I pull out of his embrace and meet his hot gaze for three thundering beats of my heart. When I walk up the stairs, I feel his eyes on me every step of the way.
I follow Hanna to the master bedroom at the top of the stairs.
“You sure you don’t want to run away to Hawaii?” I ask as I help her out of her dress. “I’ll watch the girls.”
“Not even a little bit,” she says with a grin. “There’s no honeymoon I want as much as I want two weeks with Nate home with me, Collin, and the babies. He travels so much. All I really wanted was some time for our little family to be together, everyone who matters all in one place.”
My heart tugs. I want that.
“I saw you dancing with Sam,” she singsongs. “Anything happening there?”
“Probably not.” Helping Hanna out of her wedding dress reminds me why I enrolled in Something Real to begin with. That whole thing where I want someone, someday, to look at me the way Asher looks at Maggie. The way William looks at Cally. The way Nate looks at Hanna. I want forever as much as the next girl.
But would it really hurt to put forever on hold for a night?
“Will says Sam really likes you.”
I nod and hang her dress as she changes into jeans and a sweater. “So true. He likes my tits, my ass . . .”
Hanna snorts. “Good point.”
When I turn around, she’s dressed and beaming. “Do you need anything else?”
She shakes her head and straightens her dress. “I think we’re going to sneak out. We don’t get much sleep these days and we’re both tired. But you guys can stay and party as long as you like.”
That she’s trying to blame her twins for the fact that she’s leaving her own reception early so she and her husband can fuck like bunnies? So cute. “Get out of here. Send me a text when you get to your room, or I’ll worry.”
“Sure thing.” She hugs me then rushes down to meet Nate.
I collapse onto the bed and close my eyes. Sam doesn’t hate me, which means he might not hate learning that I’m Tink24. Which means agreeing to meet him tonight might be the best decision I’ve made in months.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Sam: I have to get out of here. Thanks for the date.
My stomach sinks and dances all at once. He’s ditching me. So he can meet Tink24? Oh God. It’s true. I’m seriously jealous of myself.
* * *
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’ve done some crazy shit in my life, but this takes the cake.
I look at the message again and a shiver of anticipation races up my spine, followed by a healthy rush of what-the-fuck-am-I-getting-myself-into fear. Equal parts nerves and anticipation have my body fluttering all over, but I am nothing if not determined.
This is the address. Tonight is the night.
I’m not sure I should be here. Aren’t there rules for meeting people for the first time? I didn’t even tell anyone where I was going. Truth be told, I was too embarrassed to tell them. “Hey, I’m going to go meet a man I’ve been talking to online. No, I don’t know his name or really anything about him. Nope, not sure when I’ll be home, but I’m pretty sure he plans to tie me up and fuck me three ways to Sunday. Good plan, huh?”
This is stupid. So stupid. Even though I’m ninety-eight percent positive Sam is River, going in there without confirmation is a risk no female in her right mind should take. It seemed reasonable when he suggested it—it already feels like he knows me so intimately—and if he is Sam, God knows I know him intimately. But suddenly, I’m seeing my decisions as if through someone else’s eyes, and I’m not feeling very good about them.
