Page 47 of Unmasking Her Shadow

She nods, and I cradle the back of her head in my hand and tug her lips to mine.

“Good.”

“I’m starving,” Taylor announces, flipping her hair upside down to finger-comb it. Ryker grabs her arm to steady her when she stands upright again, lightheaded. Food is a great idea. “Stop touching me,” she grumbles, tugging her arm free, and he huffs out a laugh.

“There’s no need to worry, Taylor. I don’t fuck drunk girls.”

“Oh, goody,” she replies sarcastically and orders a shot, tossing it back before walking away towards where I’m assuming there is food.

I almost choke on my laugh, slap him on the shoulder, and then follow the crazy train. We sit at a booth, and Taylor orders them another drink. Sam shivers when I lean in closer and speak softly in her ear, “You can’t consent to all the dirty things I’m going to do to you when we leave here if you’re drunk.”

“Why does being drunk matter when I’m already yours?”

“Baby girl, just a few hours ago you disappeared because you needed space. So, no, I will not fuck you if you are drunk.”

She presses the glass to my lips with a smirk. “Then share it with me.”

I part my lips and she tips the glass a little too much, and liquid dribbles out of the corners of my mouth. The alcohol sends warmth through me, but dims in comparison to her touch. Before I can wipe my mouth, she kisses me, licking away the alcohol.

“Mmm…te-ki-la,” she jokes, and I tug her onto my lap.

“Aww…you two are so cute,” Taylor coos and turns towards Ryker. “Don’t get any ideas.”

He looks at her, a fake bored expression masking his amusement. “No ideas are being had.” The waitress places our appetizers on the table, and Taylor squeals, silencing their conversation with a large onion ring. While they fight over the dipping sauce, I slowly glide my left hand up Sam’s bare thigh, and she stills.

“Ki,” her voice trembles.

I press my lips to her shoulder and trail my finger along her inner thigh over the fabric. “If you say stop, I’ll stop,” I whisper against her neck. The music in the background hides our quiet conversation. Slowly, I slip underneath her bikini bottoms and pause at her entrance. Her breath stutters, and I’ve barely touched her. I bite back my smile when she moves her hips forward ever so slightly, giving me the green light.

“Are the fries good?” I ask, leaning forward and grabbing a few, allowing my fingers to impale her simultaneously. A soft whimper breaks free from behind her lips, and she clears her throat.

“Eat,” I command, wiggling my fingers in a come-hither motion, careful not to show movement. She shoves an onion ring in her mouth and I slide my fingers up to her clit.

“Mmm,” she hums, snatching another one and dipping it a bit too aggressively into the sauce. “So good.” Her voice comes out higher than normal, and I avert my gaze from Ryker in case he noticed. He did. And with a wicked grin, he nudges her legs further apart with his foot, and she loses it. She reaches out and snatches her glass, her hands trembling as she attempts to drink while climaxing in a poor attempt to hide it, coughing when she almost drowns herself in tequila.

* * *

“You have to do shots with me,” Taylor demands, placing a shot glass in front of Ryker. “Samster won’t do anymore.”

He tilts his head back and groans. “Taylor, I have to work tomorrow. This is the third time you have come over and said that exact same thing to me and gave me a drink.”

“What’s one more?” She shrugs, tipping her head back, swallowing the shot as if it were simply water. “Seriously?” she groans when he doesn’t follow suit. A ghost of a smile disappears behind his glass when she drinks it too, and then smashes her lips to his. He coughs, liquid spewing from his mouth. “You are cut off,” he rasps, wiping his mouth and gawking at her.

“And who’s going to stop me?” she challenges, dancing seductively back to the dance floor with fire behind her bloodshot eyes.

He clenches his jaw and looks to us for help, but Sam’s breath against my ear has my attention elsewhere. Watching her dance in her little red sundress has been pure torture, but I wanted her to have her sister time before I stole her away for the night.

She kisses a torturous trail up my neck to below my ear. “I want to go to our room now.” No need to tell me twice. I stand and thread my fingers through hers.

“Here’s the key card for you and Taylor’s room,” I state, sliding the card across the table to Ryker. He gives me an exasperated look.

“You’re such a dick,” he grumbles, snatching it off the table and shoving it into his pocket. “Go have fun while I’m stuck being a babysitter.” He waves us off, turning his focus to the gorgeous woman about to climb on top of the bar when “Cherry Pie” by Warrant blares through the speakers. “Fuuuck,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Come on,” I laugh, tugging Sam towards the elevator. When the doors close, I grip her ass and lift her into my arms, loving the way she fits perfectly against me. A faint trace of tequila lingers on her tongue. The doors open, but I keep her in my arms. Her laughter fills my ears and every dark corner of my heart as I carry her to our room. If this is the last time we are ever together, I’ll make it a night that will burn its image into our core so a piece of her always remains with me, and I with her.

31

Sam