Rock with Me (With Me in Seattle, #4)(9)

“Come on. Run’s over.” She takes my hand and turns us back toward her apartment, walking quickly.

Could she be any more adorable?

We reach her building, and for the first time this week, she leads me in with her, waves at the doorman and pulls me into the elevator.

“This is a nice building,” I comment, watching her face.

I can’t get enough of her face.

“Yeah, I like it.”

She’s suddenly digging around in her bra, and unfastens her key from her tight sports bra.

“I do love your storage system.” And I want to dig around in there.

Sam smirks and leads me to her apartment.

I am not prepared for Sam’s apartment.

The space is open and surprisingly big. Light. There are large windows, offering in plenty of sunshine.

I smirk to myself. Appropriate.

But instead of the modern, sleek, cold home I was expecting, I’m met with big, inviting furniture in reds and blues, plants and flowers, fashion magazines on the coffee table, her laptop closed on the couch. There is a gas fireplace in the corner and filmy white curtains on the windows. A piano pushed upright against the far wall.

She plays?

“Come on in. We’ll go back to the master bathroom, that’s where my first aid kit is.” She smiles and throws her key in a bowl by the door.

“This is a great place.”


Her smile is wide and as inviting as her home. “Thank you.”

“Did you decorate it yourself?” It’s so feminine and sweet.

Like her.

“Yeah, it’s all me.” She laughs and looks around with me. She takes my hand in hers and leads me down a hallway, through her bedroom, all full of soft pillows and fluffy bedding and more reds and grays and white.

Her bathroom is the same. Soft and pretty, but not disgustingly so. It’s comfortable.

“Sit on the side of the tub and I’ll grab my stuff.” She turns her back to me, unzips and removes her pink hoodie, leaving a skin-tight tank over her yoga pants.

My hands clench into fists at my hips on the tub. Fuck, I want to touch her, cup her ass in my hands, push my face between her legs. She turns back to me, her hands full of supplies.

“Okay, this could sting a little,” she bites her lower lip and looks up at me as she squats in front of me, just inches from me. “I’m sorry.”

“Sam, I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt. It’s stopped bleeding.”

“I don’t want it to get infected. I’ll just clean it up.” She starts gently rubbing it with a warm cloth, cleaning the blood that has already begun to dry on my shin. Her sweet blonde head is bowed over me, concentrating on her task.

And my cock is stirring with every little touch from those amazing white-tipped fingers.

She grips my calf firmly in one hand to steady me, and I flinch, imagining her gripping my dick in the same way.

“Did I hurt you?” She backs away, eyes wide and glances up at me with worry.

“No, sorry.”

“I don’t think you need a Band-Aid or anything.”

“No, I don’t think so,” I murmur and chuckle. “See? It’s no big deal.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” she mutters.

“Sam, I’m fine. I’ve had much worse, trust me.” She sets the cloth aside, and I take her hands in mine before she can stand and move away. I like having her this close.

She smells f*cking amazing.

“Why do you flinch when I touch you?” I murmur and tilt her chin back to look her in the eye. She frowns and a light pink blush moves over her cheeks. I run my fingers down her face and trace her bottom lip with my thumb. “Tell me. I enjoy touching you.”

She swallows and briefly frowns again. “I guess I’m just not used to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I spend most of my time alone, Leo. Unless I’m around my family, which isn’t often, I’m not touched much.” She shrugs and looks down. “I’m just not a touchy-feely person.”

“Okay.” God, she breaks my heart and makes me want to scoop her up and keep her in my arms all the time.

That wouldn’t go over well with this independent, stubborn woman.

“I bet you’re touched all the time.” She smirks.

“Why?” I ask. We’re still face-to-face, inches apart. I don’t want to move.

“Fans. Groupies. People who want a piece of you.”

“The fans are great, and yes, can be a bit gropy.” I smirk. “I haven’t paid attention to the groupies in a long time.”

Her wide eyes find mine again. Does she think I f*ck every woman who comes on to me?

Okay, I used to, but I was a kid.

“Really?”

I run my fingers down her cheek again and smile down at her. “I let the roadies have them.”

“Perk of the job,” she returns with a chuckle.

“They don’t complain.” I agree. “You smell good,” I whisper. Her sweet, light scent is all around me. She smells like vanilla with a hint of lemons.

Sunshine.

Her breath catches and her eyes fall to my lips and I know I’m a goner.

“I’m going to kiss you, Samantha,” I whisper.