Staying On Top(37)

Just a mark.

“I’m almost finished,” I managed, turning back to the sink under the guise of rinsing one more time. In reality, my face felt as though it were melting off, and the self-satisfied smirk on Sam’s face said he knew exactly why.

“Trust me, I can tell when you’re almost finished.”

I choked on the water, then covered it up with a cough. Despite the air I liked to give off at Whitman, and in general, my experience with super-aggressive men was less than some girls. Another side effect of keeping to myself, and of my father being a large, intimidating man. Handling a confident guy such as Sam Bradford would take a skill set I had to admit I might not have. Which was maybe another reason I’d blown him off from the beginning.

Once I felt more under control I laid down my toothbrush, turned off the water, and spun to face him. He was still gorgeous, but this time I was ready for it. Instead of swooning like a damn Delta, I gave him the sauciest smile I could muster. “All yours.”

“What is?”

“Whatever you want, of course. Isn’t that how your life works?”

I left the bathroom before he could come up with an answer, feeling pretty proud of my comeback in the face of his incessant dirty talk—which I secretly loved.

My self-satisfaction crashed when I felt his hand on my elbow. He spun me around, then gathered me flush against him. With the knot at the top of my towel barely holding, the majority of my breasts were smashed against his bare chest, strands of hair tickling my skin in a delicious way. His eyes—light brown, like maple syrup—stared into mine with an intensity that spread goose bumps all over my body.

Sam lifted a finger, tracing my bottom lip. “First of all, I don’t take what I want unless it’s being expressly offered. Second, don’t offer unless you mean it.”

“Mean what?” My voice sounded breathless and far away.

Now that I’d kissed him and touched him, had imagined having more of him, it was like a drug. I knew I shouldn’t do it, that sleeping with him needlessly complicated everything, but that moment on the train had bashed a hole in the dam, and desire seeped through everywhere.

“I haven’t made a secret of the fact that I want you, not since the first day we met. Then, it was because you’re hot as shit and I spent hours imagining your ass in my hands.” He paused, studying my reaction.

Which was probably somewhere between surprise and take-me-now.

“Now it’s still those things, but it’s also because you drive me insane. Because you’re a mystery I want to figure out, and because nothing but you is going to make this ache go away. But what do you want, Blair? Because you’ve gone from despising me to kissing me like your life depended on it in half a day and I’m trying to keep up.” He used a hand to guide me onto my tiptoes, bringing our lips within inches of each other, his eyes still searching mine.

I wanted to close the distance. I wanted to feel his lips on mine, to drop the towel, tug him to the bed, to feel his everything on mine, but the words stuck in my throat. My body felt frozen and alight at the same time, which didn’t seem possible.

Yet, I recognized the feeling. It wasn’t new for me to want something, but not be able to have it because of my father. Because of my life. Because of my fucked-up head.

This was the first time that I’d wanted something for me that aligned with what my father had asked, and it made me feel slimy and dirty, and nothing like a girl who Sam deserved, even for only a little while. I wanted him, but it bothered me that this was all a sham. Pretend.

Even if my feelings weren’t, he wouldn’t see the distinction once he learned the truth.

“I don’t know,” I finally replied.

Disappointment fell over the eagerness on his face. He dropped his arms and I shivered, feeling not only cold but cast away. But this was my life. I didn’t get to have what I wanted without consequences—in this case, feeling at best like a liar, at worst, some kind of prostitute.

Before I could decide whether or not to explain or what I could possibly say, Sam went into the bathroom and closed the door.





Chapter 10




Despite being more tired than I could ever remember being in my life, I’d spent the last three hours tossing and turning in the bed, which turned out to be a little too soft.

Except it wasn’t the bed. It was this stupid trip. It was me and Sam, and the fact that an ache had lodged between my legs and throbbed every time I thought of him in his shorts, him with his arms around me, him asking what I wanted.

Saying that he wanted me.

I thought about taking care of it myself in order to get some sleep—not to mention it might be days before I had a room to myself again—but I didn’t want to get off. I wanted Sam.