Chapter 5
Squeezing in time together proved more difficult than Free thought. Although they spoke every day, and texted often, other than their fleeting meetings over coffee, Free hadn’t spent any time with Samantha. They were both swamped with end-of-the-semester assignments and work. But at least they’d been able to share some kisses over their coffee. Most days, they preferred that to conversation.
Free had had enough. He texted Sam to see if she would come with him to his rehearsal tonight. Then, they could go out, or stay in, and have some time together. Her response made her sound as excited as he was at the prospect of having more than fifteen minutes together.
Samantha was waiting in line at the coffee shop as usual. He crossed the room and kissed her cheek.
She pulled at the front of his jacket and peered down. “Who are you today?”
He smiled and opened his coat. “Han Solo.” He whipped out the blaster from his holster.
“Cute boots. From a distance, I thought maybe a pirate, but the hair’s a little wrong.”
“No Jack Sparrow for me. Smuggler, pirate, not too different.”
“Take off your jacket.”
“Why?”
“So I can take a picture to add to my collection.”
He did as he was told and she snapped a couple of pictures on her phone.
They ordered their coffee and instead of sitting, took it straight to his car. “So what made you invite me to rehearsal?”
“I want to spend time with you, and the play is going to fill my next two weekends. Then it’s the holidays.”
“I’m glad you did. I can’t wait to see you in action up on the stage.”
Although rehearsals were usually laid-back and there were often outsiders watching, Free had never invited anyone to rehearsals. He rarely invited people to come to the actual performances. His mother insisted on coming to every play he’d ever done, but she loved the theater. He was fine performing, but he didn’t like people he knew watching.
They got to the small theater a few minutes early, so Free gave Samantha a quick tour and then situated her in the audience. He changed into his costume and did a few warm-ups. He focused on the words he needed to say instead of on the beautiful woman waiting for him.
They ran through the play in one set, with few interruptions from the director. The cast and crew had been at this long enough that they were ready for opening night tomorrow. By the time rehearsal was over, Free wanted nothing more than a shower and a cold drink. Then he thought of Samantha and knew he wanted a whole lot more. He grabbed his bag and went to the audience to look for her.
She sat exactly where he’d left her hours ago. He should’ve checked on her during the performance.
“Hey,” he called as he crossed the row of seats to get to her.
“Oh my God. That was so interesting. I’ve never seen the behind-the-scenes stuff of a performance before. And you are an excellent Fred. I didn’t realize that this was an updated version of the story.” She stood and gathered her coat as she spoke.
“The writer thought Dickens was too out of reach for a lot of people, mainly kids, so he wanted to update the story without losing the feel of it.”
“Are you done?”
“Yeah. What would you like to do?” He swung his bag over his shoulder. “I’d like to take a shower, if you don’t mind. It’s been a long day with classes, the gym with Cary, and rehearsal.”
She walked down the aisle beside him. Pointing to his bag, she asked, “Do you have clothes in there?”
He nodded.
“How about we go to my place, then? You can shower and change and we can order in some dinner.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” He took her hand as they exited the theater.
On the drive to her apartment, she asked more about his costumes and Cary. They talked about how he decided on his costumes—his favorite characters who had simple clothes. She laughed when he talked about rarely being the Riddler because tights were not comfortable.
She surprised him by saying, “Riddler is my favorite villain.”
“Why?”
“His disguise might not have been the best, but he always made Batman think. Nothing was simple with him.”
He wasn’t surprised that intelligence impressed her.
She leaned over and ran a hand along his thigh. His dick twitched in response.
“Would you wear it for me?”
“What?”
“The Riddler costume.”
Christ. If she kept moving her hand up his thigh, he’d do anything she asked. “Maybe.”
She giggled and told him to park in her spot, which made him wonder about her car. “You don’t drive?”
“I can. I have a license and all, but no car right now. Living and working in the city, I found I don’t really need one. Public transportation works, and if I’m in a bind, I grab a cab.”
“Did you grow up in the city?”
She hesitated at the elevator before answering. “Lake Forest. How about you?”
She said it like she was embarrassed, as if coming from a wealthy suburb was a bad thing. “I grew up in the city. North side, until I moved in with Cary for college.”
Once they got in the elevator, Samantha stepped close to him and backed him against the wall. She pulled at the front of his jacket until he lowered his mouth to kiss her. Just as he deepened the kiss, the elevator stopped on her floor. Still gripping his jacket, she led him down the hall. She didn’t let go until they were at her door and she had to unlock it.
There was something sexy about being led around by a hot girl. Samantha had a plan for their night, and Free wasn’t about to interrupt it. She waited for him to walk through the door, then she shut it and grabbed him again. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted.
This time he pressed her against the wall because he enjoyed the feel of her under him. His dick got hard thinking about her naked. He couldn’t wait to strip all of her clothes away.
“I missed this,” he whispered against her neck.
She sighed as his tongue touched her pulse point. Her hips rocked against him. He wanted to have sex with her, but not down and dirty against her door. He pulled away and couldn’t help but notice her shallow breathing. “Why don’t you order dinner? I’ll take my shower.”
“Are you kidding? You’re stopping?”
Free braced a hand on the wall near her head. “That was simply my hello-I’ve-missed-you kiss. We have all night to explore other things.”
She ducked under his arm and walked away. Over her shoulder, she said, “I’ll hold you to that.”
He hung his coat on a hook near the door and picked his bag up from where he’d dropped it during their kiss. His dick was hard and uncomfortable in his tight pants. He couldn’t wait to get them off. “Bathroom?” he asked as he reached the kitchen.
“Around the corner on the left. Towels are in the cabinet.”
He entered the bathroom, and it was obviously a woman’s room. Makeup, perfume, and lotions were scattered across the top of the counter. He picked up the bottle of lotion and sniffed. The scent drove more blood south and his dick throbbed. He twisted the knobs in the shower and stripped while the water warmed.
Inside the tub wasn’t any better. Samantha’s scent surrounded him in her shampoo and soap. He used a bit of her body wash and cleaned up. He wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked. He needed some release or he wouldn’t get through dinner with her. He closed his eyes and imagined her standing in front of him, pulling him closer.
He pumped his hand faster, water sluicing over him. His balls tightened.
A knock at the door made him freeze, which was nearly as painful as being stuffed in his jeans.
“Find everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Be out in a minute.” Fuck. He slowed his stroke, needing to finish. He hoped she wouldn’t come in. She would think he was a total freak with no self-control.
“All right. Holler if you need anything.”
What he needed was to come. Her voice shot through him, increasing his need. He pumped his fist quickly and spurted his release. He swallowed the groan that crawled up from his chest. He immediately felt guilty for doing that in Samantha’s shower, but at least he wouldn’t embarrass himself with her later. Making sure he left no signs of what he’d done, he finished the shower in record time. After drying, he pulled on his clean clothes.
Shoving his costume in his bag, he carried it and his holster to the living room.
Sam looked up from her seat on the couch and couldn’t help but smile. Free came out of the bathroom with his hair wet and messy, wearing a T-shirt and jeans with his holster slung over his shoulder. He was totally adorkable.
And a huge part of her regretted not getting in the shower with him. He’d sounded surprised when she asked if he had everything he needed and he offered no invitation. Looked like she’d have to put out the invite tonight.
“I ordered Chinese. Hope that’s okay with you.”
“I’m starving, so you could feed me just about anything right now and I’d be happy.” He dropped his bag next to the couch and balanced the holster on top. He sat down beside her, stretching his legs into her space. “How was your week?”
“Okay, I guess.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbow on his leg. “What’s wrong?”
She hadn’t thought she let any of her depression slip, but Free managed to catch it. “It’s a sad time of year.”
“The holidays?”
“Yeah.” She quickly waved her hand. “Not for me. For the women and kids in the shelter. They don’t have much to look forward to.”
“I bet it’s hard.”
“The thing is, the kids, the women, they put on this brave face, like none of it matters. To a certain degree, I understand. For some of them, the lack of certainty about their lives is better than the violence they left. It’s their shot at freedom. But to have nothing . . .” Her throat tightened every time she thought about it.
“They have you and the others at the shelter for support.”
“Yeah, I know.” She still questioned how much good she was really doing. She wasn’t sure how well she could relate to these women. “We arranged with a local YMCA to do a giving tree. You know, where the women write down what gift they’d like to get for Christmas? Then anonymous donors grab a tag from the tree and buy that gift.”
“So they’ll have something on Christmas.”
“But they asked for things like dress shoes for work or cleaning supplies for their apartment. A new rug because the floor is cold.”
“Maybe the donors will get them something special in addition to the necessities.”
She hoped so. Although she didn’t believe that the holidays required big, expensive gifts, she’d never gone without and couldn’t imagine Christmas being just another day.
Free reached out and slid her hair away from her face. His finger stroked her cheek. “You can only do what you can. Have you talked to my mom?”
Sam nodded slowly, unwilling to break the contact with his hand. “I actually had her talk to the director so they can hash out the details. She sounded nice. Your mom.”
“She is.”
“This conversation is pretty depressing. Let’s talk about something else until our food gets here.”
His fingers trailed over her jaw and down her neck. Anticipation shot through her.
“I can think of other things we can do besides talk.”
“But then we’ll get interrupted.”
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly. As soon as their lips met, she wanted more. More of what she stole in the elevator. Definitely more of what he’d given pressed up against her door. She wanted more of him.
With a gentle hand on his chest, she pushed. “Tell me about your dad.”
“Huh?” His gaze was unfocused.
She scooted back on the couch to gain some distance and perspective. For days they’d been talking a lot, but mostly about her. He revealed very little about himself. “You don’t talk much about your family. Except Cary. I almost feel like I know him. What about your parents?”
He shook his head as if to clear it and turned his body to sit straight. “My mom’s an actress, or at least she used to be. She’s still involved with the theater as much as she can, but she doesn’t audition anymore. My dad’s an investment banker. He has his own firm.”
“And Cary works with him?”
“Yeah. Cary’s his right hand. As soon as Cary graduated from college, he started bringing in clients. He’s got a way with people. Everyone likes him.”
Sam felt the undercurrent of what Free wasn’t saying. Everyone liked Cary, not him. Her bell rang and she jumped up. “I think the best thing about living in the city is getting whatever kind of food you want delivered.”
She went to the door and paid the delivery guy. When she turned, Free was right behind her.
“I would’ve paid for dinner.”
“No big deal. You can get it next time.” The words slipped easily from her mouth. Although they’d only been on one date, she felt a connection to him. They hadn’t had a serious conversation about exclusivity, but ever since their date, she hadn’t thought about anyone else.
She handed the bag to Free. “If you take this to the living room, I’ll get us some pop to drink. Sorry, I don’t have anything else, unless you want water.”
“Pop is good.”
She took two cans from the fridge and grabbed some silverware and napkins. By the time she got back to the couch, he had the food spread out on the table, chopsticks waiting. It was all very comfy and cozy. And so different from what she’d had with her previous boyfriends. Wait until she told Jess about this.
They sat on the floor and ate out of the cartons, sharing food and chopsticks. She couldn’t quite figure Free out. He’d been pretty hot in the elevator and at the door, but now that they were alone and sitting on the floor eating Chinese food, he didn’t flirt or attempt to touch her in any way. He treated her like she was nothing more than a friend. He told her hilarious stories that had her crying with laughter.
Looked like it would be up to her to move things along. She scooted closer to him until her leg brushed his. “So. How do you feel about sleepovers?”
His eyes widened and he choked on his noodles. He continued choking, and Sam took the carton from him and set it on the table. His eyes started to water and he raised his hands high.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded, but coughed some more. He reached for his can of pop and took a gulp. He inhaled slowly, coughing a little more. He slapped his chest and laughed.
“Sorry about that,” Sam said with a smile. “I kind of thought that’s where we were headed.”
“No. I mean, don’t worry about it. And yeah, I was hoping we were headed there, too. You just took me by surprise.”
She pressed closer, her boobs pushing against his arm, and ran her fingers through his damp hair. “Does that mean you prefer to take the lead with a girl?”
“No. I’m totally comfortable with you in charge. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Good,” she whispered and licked the shell of his ear.
A shaky breath eased from his mouth.
Sam twisted and straddled him, squeezing between him and the table. It was a tight fit and she liked the way their bodies notched together. She leaned over and kissed him. The heat between them lay thick with need.
Free surged up, which caused her back to crash into the table. She winced.
“Shit. Sorry.” He bent his leg and gave the table a kick, but it didn’t budge. He released his grip on her and shoved the edge. It barely moved. “So much for my manly strength.”
She laughed and kissed him again. “It’s the carpet. The legs dig in and it’s tough to move.”
“You don’t have to stroke my ego.”
“I can think of better things to stroke.”
He groaned and pulled her hips closer. His hard-on pressed against her. Her clit throbbed in response.
“Let’s go to my bedroom.”
“Wait.” His fingers tightened on her hips. “I don’t have a condom. I’m not one of those guys who walks around expecting to get laid.”
Her smile was so wide, her cheeks stretched. “You knew you were coming to my apartment, right? And you still didn’t expect to get laid?”
“I tend to keep my expectations low.”
Oh man, did she like this guy. “It’s okay. I have some in my room.”
“Thank God.”
She eased off him and stood. When he joined her, he took her hand and she led him to the bedroom. He stood next to her bed as if he was unsure of his next move. She tugged at the hem of his shirt. Sliding it slowly up, she took note of the slim line of hair on his belly leading into his jeans. It was one of those things that never failed to turn her on. She pulled the shirt over his head.
The movement seemed to spur him into action. He pulled her blouse from her pants and started to unbutton it. His fingers fumbled on the first two. He sighed and closed his eyes.
She covered his hands. “Let me.”
Taking her blouse and pants off took no time at all. She reached around to unclasp her bra. Free’s hands stilled her. “No.”
“What?”
“I just want to look a minute. You’re breathtaking.”
Her skin warmed everywhere by both the compliment and his hot gaze.
He cupped her jaw and kissed her again, aligning his body with hers. The denim of his jeans rasped against her bare thighs, causing an enticing friction. While he trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck and across her collar, she reached between them and unbuttoned his jeans.
Free nudged her bra strap aside and kissed his way down to her boob. As his mouth greedily latched on to her nipple, she slid her hand into his jeans and allowed her cool fingers to stroke his hot flesh.
He growled with her nipple in his mouth and sucked a little harder. She gasped, but when he tried to pull away, she held his head in place. “More,” she added, in case he didn’t understand that her gasp was good.
He turned them so he could push her gently down on the bed. For a moment, they separated. She scooted across the bed to make room for him as he shucked his jeans and underwear. His dick was hard and bobbed as he moved onto the bed.
She spread her thighs. He nestled between them, the thin barrier of her silk panties almost unbearable. He tugged the cup off her still-covered breast and focused his attention on that nipple. Sam’s hips wiggled. She needed more.
With Free on top of her, there was little room, but she slid her hand between them and wrapped her fingers around his dick and stroked. He lifted his hips a little to give her more room. He was smooth and hard and hot.
She had just gotten started and he pulled out of her reach. His mouth returned to hers and his hand slid into her panties. He stroked her already-slick folds. She rode his hand and the tension built. “I’m close, Free. Get a condom.”
“Where?” His voice was low and scratchy and incredibly sexy.
“Bedside drawer.”
He lifted off her and went into the drawer. When she heard the wrapper being opened, she shimmied out of her panties and got rid of her bra.
Free returned and settled between her thighs. She felt the head of his dick prod her opening. Still cautious and hesitant.
She lifted her hips, causing him to enter. As soon as he inched in, he sank deeper with a groan. He started to move and she hooked her calves around his hips. He tilted and swiveled, and like a homing device, he managed to hit the right spot.
Sam threw her head back and dug her nails into his shoulders. Her heels pressed him closer. He buried his face in her neck. Everything pulsed. She held on to Free as she rode out her orgasm.
As she came down from her high, he stiffened and his muscles flexed. The world felt like it stopped spinning. Time ceased to exist for one glorious moment. They didn’t need to breathe or move. They could just be.
It was the one moment during sex that Sam loved the most, more than the stars behind her eyelids and the explosion of nerves. The feeling of weightlessness and freedom.
Then Free crashed against her and she discovered another feeling that she enjoyed: the weight of Free sprawled on top of her. She relished the feel of his body on hers, the soft tickle of his hair on her cheek, the racing of his heart against her chest.
Free propped himself on his elbows and looked directly in her eyes. He said nothing, just stared, and she felt it deep down inside. Then his face broke into a smile, and he dropped a quick kiss on her lips and jumped off the bed. “Be right back.”
For a guy who had a hard time with buttons, he moved sure-footedly through her room. She heard water running in the bathroom. Sam rolled to her side and kept her eyes on the door. This was when most guys came back into the room and started picking clothes up off the floor looking for an escape.
She wanted to see what Free’s reaction would be. Would he want to spend the night? She tried not to get her hopes up, but she wanted him to stay.
He came back into the room looking less sure of himself than when he’d left. He sat on the edge of the bed. “So about this sleepover . . .”
“It’s not a requirement.”
“Is it a real invitation?”
Her heart got tight. “Of course.” She patted the bed beside her and he crawled over.
On his way, he grabbed the blanket and covered them. He spooned her with an arm wrapped around her waist.
She relaxed into his embrace and hoped she wasn’t making the same mistakes she often did. But then she realized that even though they had spent a lot of time talking over the past few days, this was technically only their second date. Like that was any better than sleeping with a guy on the first date. She had a habit of thinking things were more than they actually were.
“What are you thinking about?”
The question startled her. He’d been so quiet, she’d thought he’d fallen asleep.
“I was just thinking that this is only our second date. And we’re in bed together.”
He shifted and turned her to face him. “Is that a problem?”
“I don’t want you to think that because I have my own condoms that I’m not into monogamy. I am.” She blew out a breath that puffed her cheeks. “I’m not seeing anyone else. Are you?”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I didn’t even come here with a condom. What do you think?”
She raised her eyebrow at him.
“No, Samantha. I am not seeing anyone else. I feel like we have a good thing going here.”
“We do.” She rolled back over. “And Free?”
“Huh?”
“Maybe you should start carrying condoms.”