The VIP Room(25)

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Bed,” he said shortly.

“But I thought the guest rooms were in the other wing.”

“They are. But there’s a pull-out in my office. I’m sleeping there. You’ll be in my bed.”

I stopped moving, forcing Sam to come to a halt or pull me over. “Sam, I’m not taking your bed. I’ll just stay upstairs.”

“No.” He tugged on my hand again, but I refused to move. “I don’t want you that far away,” he said. “We have no idea who’s after you or how far they’ll go to get to you. I sleep like a rock. If something happened, and you were upstairs I’d never hear you. If you’re in my room, they have to go right past me to get to you.”

“But we’re safe here. You have excellent security and the neighborhood is gated. Who could get to me?”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “I’m not taking any chances with you, Chloe. You sleep in my room. I’m in the office. End of discussion.”

I opened my mouth to protest and Sam lunged forward, shoved his shoulder into my stomach, and picked me up in a fireman’s carry.

“Put me down,” I shouted. “I’m too heavy, you’ll hurt yourself.”

In answer, he swatted my rear end. “You’re not too heavy, for Christ’s sake. I could carry you all day. Now shut up.”

I didn’t shut up. Ignoring my protests, Sam strode down the hall to his bedroom door. When we were inside, the door shut firmly behind us, I said,

“What are you doing? When did you turn into such a caveman?”

“When did you stop doing what I told you to?” he shot back. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ve never done what you told me to.”

“True,” he admitted. “But you’re usually much more agreeable about it.”

That was true. I’d never followed Sam’s orders, not exactly. But I was generally fairly diplomatic when I disagreed with him. Part of that was him being my boss. But mostly it was just me. I could argue when I had to, but I was happier when everyone just got along. Maybe that’s why I was so spun by everything that was happening. All this conflict was freaking me out.

Choosing not to fight with me anymore, Sam went to his dresser and came back with a dark grey t-shirt with ‘Delecta’ across the front in elaborate cursive. He handed it to me, saying,

“We’ll deal with the rest of your stuff tomorrow, but you can sleep in this tonight.”

I took the shirt and looked up at him. He’d stopped right in front of me, so close our shoes were almost touching, and stared down at me with a funny look in his eyes.

“What?” I asked, reaching up to touch my face again.

Why did he keep looking at me like that? In answer, he gave a shake of his head. Before I could step back, Sam reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight into his chest. I stiffened in surprise, then relaxed into him. The scent of spice and citrus surrounded me as I rested my head against Sam’s hard chest, soaking in his strength.

He drew back after a minute, his arms still holding me close. I tipped my head up to look at him and wasn’t surprised to see that odd look back in his eyes. He lifted one hand to my face and curved his fingers under my chin, tilting my face to his.

“Chloe,” he whispered. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

Then, to my complete and utter shock, Sam Logan dropped his lips to mine. The kiss started slowly, mostly because I couldn’t quite catch up. When his arm tightened around my back and his lips opened mine, I gasped at the heat of his tongue. I should have pulled away, but a kiss from Sam was every secret day dream I’d had since I’d first started working for him. I had no idea why he was kissing me, but this might be my only chance. Maybe Sam was just worried about me. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to let his kiss pass me by.

Pressing into him, I reached up and sank my fingers into his thick, soft hair, pulling his face into mine. I didn’t have a ton of experience with kissing, but it didn’t seem to matter. I moved my mouth against his, my tongue stroking his, our lips rubbing together, heat spiraling through my body.

Sam groaned deep in his chest and began to move, backing me into the wall without breaking the kiss. I kept my grip on his hair, loving the feeling of his head in my hands as his mouth fed from mine in kiss after drugging kiss. His hands were everywhere, stroking my back, my sides, untucking my blouse and sliding beneath to brand my bare skin with trails of heat. When his palm rose to graze the side of my breast, I whimpered.

Like a shot, he was gone, stepping back, dropping his hands and shoving them in the back pockets of his jeans.

“Sleep well,” he said as if he hadn’t just been holding me to the wall kissing the life out of me. “If you need anything, I’m right across the hall.”

With that, he left. I stood there, leaning against the wall for a long minute before going to the bathroom to change into his t-shirt. I got into his bed, surrounded by his scent and tried to fall asleep, my head spinning from his kiss. What had that been about?

I’d never had any idea Sam might want to kiss me. I’d dreamed about it, but I hadn’t imagined those dreams might ever come true. Not that they had, really. In my dreams he didn’t kiss me breathless and then abruptly leave. What had he been thinking? Maybe he just hadn’t been laid in a while, I was convenient, and then he thought better of it. But that wasn’t like Sam. And anyway, I wasn’t the kind of woman who stirred men to uncontrollable lust.