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“Good, good. We are getting out of here too. Take care, Marcy.” As his footsteps recede, I hesitantly open my eyes to find Sam observing me with an inscrutable expression. I absentmindedly run my hands over my face, suddenly recalling the makeup I'm wearing. Can this night get any worse? I’m sure I look like a…well, who the hell knows what I look like at this point.
Once Sam steps into the elevator, I try to reason with him again. “You don’t need to be doing this. I’m sure I can walk,” I mutter with more confidence than I feel. He’s probably really doing me a favor because at this point my surroundings are still spinning out of control. Actually, I might have to puke again because my stomach dropped as soon as the elevator did. My saliva starts to thin and I know it’s coming. I also know that I will absolutely die if I get sick in Sam’s arms or perhaps even worse, on them. I’m talking about faking my own death and moving to another country to live out my days in vomit exile.
As the doors to the elevator open, I risk more humiliation as I jump from his arms barely catching myself on the bellhop standing there. An expression of sheer horror marks his face as the unexpected shower of vomit tarnishes his clean attire. My hurried apology barely registers as I scramble towards the lobby doors, the only thought consuming me is the urge to distance myself from this mortifying scene. The cool fresh air hits me in the face, making me sigh in relief. I’m not sure how it’s possible but by a miracle Charles is standing there waiting for me with the door to the limo open. It’s almost over, I just have to make it to him. A feat easier said than done. As I begin to stumble my way toward him, I feel a hand wrap around my upper arm pulling me back.
“What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” Anger coats Sam’s face as he looks down at me. I open my mouth but no words seem to form. I stand there speechless, for once, not sure if I should be pissed off or thankful. To be honest, I’m questioning several things at the moment.
Sam steps closer to me, reaching up to grab my chin with one hand. “I think you need some manners about respecting your elders,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Now, get in the car before I bend you over my knee right here.” I gasp as the effects of his wicked words course through me. My teeth graze my bottom lip causing him to groan.
Releasing my face, he escorts me to the limo then lifts me into the seat. Before he moves, the buckle comes around me and clicks into place. My body is burning up from all the places he’s touched me leaving a lingering effect. Leaning my head against the seat, I close my eyes ready for this night to be over. I hear the door shut then the other side open. I think it's Charles until the seat next to me dips down. My eyes startle open and I see Sam sitting next to me with a smug smile ghosting his lips. My heart pounds in my chest at his proximity but I don’t have the energy to figure out what the hell he’s doing here. My eyes close on their own accord and don’t open until I feel Sam brushing the hair from my face.
“We’re here,” he whispers.
I pull myself up by the handle on the door and look out the window. This isn’t my apartment. Panic starts to course through me but before I get too far down that road, Samuel speaks up. “I brought you to my place so I could watch over you tonight. You had a lot to drink and shouldn’t be alone.”
“What? I-what? You aren’t my caretaker! I’ve made it thirty-six years on this Earth, I don’t need assistance now.” His expression turns dark as he clenches his fists by his side.
“You aren’t in your right mind and don’t know what’s best for you, but I do. Now, get your ass out of this car.” Sam steps out of the limo and slams his door shut. I cross my arms over my chest because at this point I’m ready to stand my ground. My door opens and he’s there unbuckling me pulling me from the car.
“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I curse at Sam. His irritation with me grows and I feel both proud and nervous that I’ve tempted the beast. I look to Charles for some assistance but he must know Sam. Of course he does. He works for the Knights for fuck’s sake.
“Thank you, Charles. I can take it from here,” Sam declares as he puts his arm around me, hoisting my body up beside his. My mind is getting so foggy that I don’t have the energy to fight back at the moment, but he will be getting an earful tomorrow. He can’t treat me like I’m still a child. He hasn’t been back in my life but only a few hours and he has the audacity to think he knows what’s best for me. Fuck that. And I intend to tell him when words are again able to form in my mind.
“Very good, sir,” he replies as he closes the door behind me.
Sam is mostly holding me up which makes less work for my legs that seem to be getting heavier by the second. But that’s not the only thing getting heavier. I can barely hold my eyes open at this point and I doubt very seriously that I could have made it to my apartment safely. I hate being wrong but even more when it’s a man that proves me incorrect.
Suddenly I become more lightheaded and the last thing I remember is leaning against Sam murmuring something about how he always smells so good. Then everything goes black.
Chapter 9
Samuel
I knew she needed me the moment I saw her collapse at the table in the corner. Her friends had since left but she was still there for whatever reason. As I made my way to her across the rooftop, I saw her become ill with none the wiser. I was all she had to truly look after her at this point and I wasn’t going to let Matthew down by leaving her there. I didn’t expect her to fight me along the way. That’s a new development in her personality. She always did what she was told and what was expected of her when she was young but somewhere along the way she grew into Miss Independent. I won’t lie and say that it wasn’t sexy as fuck for her to speak to me like that.
I got her down to the car with minimal inappropriate comments. I couldn’t help myself by taunting her beautiful ass with punishment. The thought of having my handprint on that perfect peach is a sight I might never be able to erase from my mind. I have to adjust myself thinking about it.
Once she passed out in my arms, I lifted her to my chest and brought her to my penthouse. I laid her on the bed and removed her boots one by one, enjoying the feel of her silky calves in my hands. I warred with myself on whether I should put her in something more comfortable or not. I finally decided to dress her in one of my old Army t-shirts. The sheer amount of will it took for me to not gawk at the beauty before me was a true testament to my code of honor. After I got her tucked in, I placed a glass of water on the bedside table for when she wakes.
As I sit on the edge of my bed watching Marcy sleep, in a totally non-creepy way, I take in all her splendor. No one could deny that she is absolutely stunning. Her long red locks lay gently over her pale freckled skin. The sheet falls over her body showcasing the mouthwatering curves she has. I rake my eyes over her body, wanting to explore every inch of her delectable figure. Brushing a piece of hair away from her face, I watch as my beautiful obsession sleeps.
Marcy Hillary is in my bed. I would never have believed it were true if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes. “You always smell so good” repeats over and over in my mind. How long has she thought that? Did she believe that when we were kids?
The sounds coming from the television are sure to upset Matt’s parents but they aren’t home at the moment. This new game came out today, erasing any plans we had. We haven’t left the couch downstairs in hours as we battle it out on the Xbox. The front door opens then slams shut.
“Matt, get up here. I need help in the garage,” Matt’s dad yells down the stairs. He groans but jumps from the couch to head up the stairs.
“This shouldn’t take long,” he calls back down.
The door opens and closes again. Thinking it’s Matt, I resume the game in single player mode. Soft cries reverberate down the stairs, making me pause the game. The haunting melody pulls me away from the virtual world. I set down my controller, the game forgotten, and follow the sound. The stairs creak under my weight as I ascend, taking two at a time.
Marcy is scrunched at the top with her head buried in her legs. Her red hair spilling in all directions as she whimpers. Anger courses through me at the sight of her like this, making me want to find who is responsible.
I kneel down beside her but I guess I’m not as quiet as I hoped. Her red blotchy face looks up at me but I see the instant embarrassment overcomes her. She wipes her cheeks, murmuring a sorry as she tries to scurry off.
Unfortunately for her, I’m not letting her get away without telling me what happened.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I declare, pulling her ass right back down to where she was.
