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I grab one and turn back to my special guests.
“See you soon, Emma,” I tell her as I grab my glasses on the floor. At what point did I even take out my contacts? I give a look to the guy, who finally is getting the hint.
I walk to the bedroom door and as soon as I open it, I see the door across the hallway open as well. My traitorous heart skips a beat, like every time it senses Sam around, but I keep my face blank. He’s standing tall, opening the door to his own one-night stand.
I lean against the door frame of the bedroom I’m in, try my phone again as if it would now turn on by some miracle and when it doesn’t, I cross my arms. Sam imitates me, crossing his muscular, tattooed arms across his chest and looking at me with that seriousness of his. He’s wearing black jeans and nothing else. Tattoos covering defined muscles, my tongue subconsciously wets my lips when my eyes fall on his pierced nipples. Having never slept with Sam, that’s the worst fuckery life has ever thrown at me. A constant tease, always short of attainable.
Sam’s eyes leave my face to watch as anonymous guy slides past me to leave. His gaze is dark. I want to say it’s jealousy, but it really fucking isn’t, sadly. That’s just how his gaze is; his eyes are so black they constantly look like they’re sucking at your soul.
I see a man squeezing past Sam to leave his bedroom. Looks like he had his own share of fun last night. I don’t miss the dotted bruise around the stranger’s neck. The British dickhead is quiet during the day and lets out steam at night. Preferably on men who welcome his brand of violence.
“Call me,” the tall, skinny stranger whispers to Sam. I watch him walk down the hallway on his way out.
Lucky cunt, I think before mentally slapping myself for drooling over Sam.
Our gazes meet again, across the hallway from each other, leaning on our respective door frames.
Emma walks out of the room, squeezing my waist and going on her toes to drop a kiss on my cheek but doesn’t say anything.
Sam looks at her, back at me and rolls his eyes. I want to laugh at his hypocrisy when a girl has to squeeze past him to leave his bedroom. Oh, this is just gold. I was wondering how far we could push each other.
Quite far apparently.
Once Emma and that last girl have left, he looks at me from head to toe and back up before addressing me. “Should I expect anyone else to come out of my guest bedroom?”
“I’m done if you are,” I reply with a smile. I put the Newport between my lips and look down at it as I bring the lighter to the tip. I don’t have to look up to know he’s crossed the hallway, his scent is already sending butterflies into panic mode in my stomach.
He grabs the cigarette from me, slowly.
“Not inside,” he orders in his low voice.
I roll my eyes before looking up at him. Fuck he’s tall. He’s so fucking tall compared to me and I’m five foot ten so I know what I’m talking about.
He tucks the cigarette in his back pocket and offers me what I know he considers a smile: a slight pull at the corner of his lips.
“Happy Birthday, Rose.”
I look into the black pools that are his eyes, allowing myself to get lost for a few seconds.
“I need to charge my phone,” I reply.
“You need to get home. Go get ready, I’m driving you back.” He turns around and walks back into his room, shutting the door on me.
We’re probably about ten minutes from my house when his phone pings, and his mood changes drastically. I mean, he’s always a serious dick, but not as much with me. Granted he’s usually in a mood when he has to drive me back – probably all that guilt for taking me away from a fairly normal life – but today he is especially moody, his eyes constantly checking his phone, careful that I don’t see the screen.
After a second ping he brakes suddenly, muttering a ‘shit’. He texts something back. Another ping, a mumbled ‘fuck’ and he turns the car around.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
He doesn’t reply, focusing on not getting us crushed in-between two cars.
“Care to explain why you’re being extra dickish today?” I insist.
“Care to explain why you have threesomes in my apartment?” he snaps back.
“You have threesomes in your apartment, no one complains about it.” I turn slightly to show him the mocking smile that has settled on my lips.
“It’s my place, I’m an adult, I can do whatever the fuck I want. I’m not some seventeen-year-old desperately trying to catch anyone’s attention.”
